#I’ve never written about his games before

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble II

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut. Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (plot wise). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,142

A/N: I was giggling and kicking my feet while writing this🤭 holy shit I’ve never written something so damn corny before… I LOVE IT TEEHEE. Ugh I love me some good fluff.

[I][III]

“I gave a second chance to Cupid, but now I'm left here feelin' stupid. Oh, the way he makes me feel that love isn't real. Cupid is so dumb,” - Cupid (Twin Ver.), Fifty Fifty

When Saturday arrived, you dressed yourself in a formal dress. You could only assume he’d want me to dress fancy since he always seemed to wear a suit. You didn’t think you’ve ever see him wear something casual.

The clock marked seven and you patiently waited in your room. You wore a black skin tight dress that reached your knees. It wasn’t from the most luxurious and high brand but it was still quite beautiful. The sleeves were actually a cape draped over your shoulders in a thin sheet of mesh fabric. Even your heels matched your dress. You’ve never been one to dress immodest on the first date. Your hair was done tied down and your makeup was light but not too boring. Everything looked just right.

Leon leaned against his car, his eyes focused on the door of your apartment building. He had been there for a while now, waiting patiently. He was dressed in one of his nicer suits, this one a deep navy blue. Although he didn’t bother to wear his signature red scarf or gloves.

He glanced at his watch, it was a minute before seven. He pushed himself away from his car, his eyes never straying from your door. He’d known Mafia Bosses who had to be punctual at all times, and now, it was a habit.

The neighborhood your apartment was in was on the side of the working class. You didn’t live in the richest part of town so his car stood out like a sore thumb.

Leon suppressed a sigh as he checked his watch again. Seven o’clock, on the dot. He started walking towards the door, his steps slow but steady. When he finally stood in front of your door, he took a moment to straighten his suit before raising his hand to knock, his knuckles rapping against the door three times.

He could already imagine your flustered reaction to seeing him again. He almost smiled at the thought, but his expression remained neutral, his face a stony mask. He waited.

Upon hearing the sounds of the knocking, you quickly made your way to the front door and opened to find Leon dressed so formally. He looked really good, your breath hitched and your heart skipped a beat.

“Leon,” you said with a soft smile, “You made it.”

Leon’s eyes roamed over you as you opened the door, taking in your appearance. The light makeup, the black dress, the tied-up hair, everything about you looked absolutely perfect. He couldn’t help but think that you looked even prettier than the last time he saw you.

He returned your smile with a small one of his own, his eyes softening slightly at the sight of you.

"Of course I did," he said, his gaze never leaving yours, "I said I would, didn’t I?"

He was so gentle, like an innocent lotus that blooms above water. Hence why you couldn’t help the smile you had, “You did,” you whispered as you maintained his eye contact.

You closed the door behind you and walked down the steps to stand in front of him. Even with heels he stood above your height.

“You look very handsome,” you complimented as you gestured for his own outfit. His suit seemed rich and expensive, made with only the best craftsman. Leon’s eyes darkened slightly at your compliment, a small smirk tugging at the edge of his lips. He was used to compliments, but coming from you… it was different. It sent a flutter through his chest, something he wasn’t used to feeling.

"You're one to talk," he replied, his gaze roaming over your figure again, "You look absolutely stunning."

He extended his arm out towards you, his gesture a silent invitation as he waited for you to take it.

His words were sincere, no lie detected. As if he was truly honest, why would he lie to a woman? He didn’t seem the type to try and hook up on the first date. He had manners and etiquette. You gently wrapped your hand around his bicep as he offered his arm to you. You’ve only ever seen this in movies, you didn’t think people still did it in real life.

“Thank you,” you replied softly, staring up at him as the lights from the stars above you twinkled in your eyes. Leon felt the warmth of your touch on his arm, the way your fingers wrapped around the material of his suit. It was a simple touch, but it already felt too intimate. He knew this was dangerous terrain, getting close to you like this, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes met his, a warm sparkle in them as the reflection of the stars danced across them. You looked almost enchanted by him, like a doe staring up at a wolf.

But Leon was no wolf. He was so much more dangerous than that.

Leon led you to his car, his arm still intertwined with yours. His steps were steady, his gaze focused on guiding you to the vehicle. The night was cool and yet, he wasn’t even paying attention to the cold.

His mind was occupied with other things, specifically the thought of how to keep your attention on him. Most of the women he’d dated before didn’t stay for long. He figured they were only interested in his money.

But you were different. It somehow felt like you were truly interested in getting to know him, and not his bank account.

When you neared his car, he actually held the door open for you until you sat down and closed it. Such manners! As he began to drive, you couldn’t help but marvel at his car. Even the interior looked expensive, “Nice car,” you commented softly.

Leon gave you a small shrug, slightly amused by your compliment. He was used to women swooning over his expensive assets, his cars, his houses.

But you didn’t do that. And it was refreshing to say the least.

"It's not bad," he agreed, his eyes on the road. He wasn’t looking at you, but he could still sense your gaze on him. He glanced over at you briefly, a small smirk on his lips.

"You’re not very impressed by the car, are you?" he asked bluntly.

Your cheeks flushed a bit and you shook my head, “I actually don’t know anything about cars,” you replied abashedly, “But I like it. It looks nice. Very comfy.”

Maybe he was used to hearing women compliment his assets and his bank account but you weren't used to such a lavish life so you didn’t know much. But it was all still impressive, not because of the price but because the car genuinely looked like it was taken good care of.

Leon chuckled softly at your answer, the sound low and warm. He could tell he managed to make you flustered again, a slight pink tinge on your cheeks that he found endearing.

"You’re the first woman I’ve met who didn’t swoon over the car instead of the man driving it," he said bluntly, his eyes on the road still.

He found it interesting, your lack of reaction to his worldly possessions. Most women, in his experience, fell over themselves just to ride in this car.

Okay maybe it was a bit weird reducing his car to just ‘comfy’ but it was fresh and real. It was an unexpected response but it seemed like he liked it.

You stared out the window, shaking your head once again, “Why would I put a car over a person?” You muttered before you glanced at him driving.

“A car won’t love me back. It won’t wipe my tears off my face,” you continued, “All it does it take from point A to point B. Why would I choose a car over someone?”

Leon's eyes left the road briefly to look at you, his expression unreadable. Your answer seemed simple and honest, genuine even. Most of the women he’d met cared about how much he could spoil them. They wanted fancy jewelry, expensive clothes. They never cared about the little things, the soft spoken words and the caring touches.

"That makes sense," he replied softly, his eyes focusing back on the road.

“In any case,” you muttered, unaware of how your words affected him for the better. You, in fact, did care about the little things. The lingering touches, the stolen glances—you lived for all of that.

“I think if you love someone,” you continued, staring at the road in front of you, “You understand them. You don’t lust after them, you don’t judge them, and you don’t compare them. To love someone, is to love so innocently but also very intimate in the sense that it isn’t sexual.”

“No car can replicate that type of love,” you whispered and glanced at him. Maybe you were being a bit indirectly forward, but you wanted him to know that you didn’t care if he was the richest man on earth or the poorest man, it was his morals and values that mattered.

Leon’s fingers tightened their grip on the steering wheel as he listened to your words. Your explanation of love was sweet, pure. It was almost like hearing a child’s view on the world, innocent and untainted.

It was so far from his own views on love. Love was a weakness, a risk that only ended in more pain and hurt. He had seen it many times, how people would do horrible things, all in the name of love.

But hearing your idealistic explanation of love… it sounded almost alien to him.

Your words felt almost like a revelation to him, a realization that love was supposed to be innocent, and intimate, and so much more than just material things.

He took a deep, steady breath, his mind quietly processing your words, the way they seemed to touch a part of him he thought was long gone.

"You have a way with words," he said, his voice laced with a hint of admiration.

A shy smirk reached your lips and you looked down at your hands on your lap, “Not really,” you muttered, “I just really like to read romance.”

“I’ve read Anna Karerina, Lorna Doone, and Forever Amber,” you listed softly. You loved romance novels, reading about predestined love and star crossed lovers often resulting in a battle of emotions was all so interesting to you.

Leon's gaze briefly flickered towards you, a hint of amusement in his eyes. It was endearing, your passion for romance. It was almost cute.

"Ah, a romantic at heart," he commented, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips, "I've heard of those books. Bit tragic, aren’t they?"

He remembered the brief details he’d heard about those stories, tales of love, passion and despair. It all seemed a bit cliché.

“Yes,” you agreed, “It is tragic but what is love if there aren’t consequences? The true enemy of love is not hatred, it’s indifference and doubt.”

“I like to think that love is a double edged sword, a line so thin that divides happiness and depression. It’s our choices that make that sword tilt either side,” you commented quietly.

Leon’s grip on the steering wheel tightened even further at your words. They were deep and profound, making him think of things he’d never pondered before.

“And what happens when that sword tilts the wrong way?” he asked, his voice a little cold.

He'd seen the darker side of love, the way it could make people do things they'd never thought they were capable of. He'd never been a stranger to that kind of love. The kind of love that consumed and destroyed.

“Then you let it tilt until it’s back straight. It’s a rotation, a cycle. Eventually… love will be the right way,” you said.

“Love can destroy and create, not so different from a god. You can create to destroy or you can destroy to create. You can hate to love or love to hate. But in the end, it’ll always be there,” But your view on love wasn’t all happy, it wasn’t all sad either. You’d like to think you had a balance of understanding the good and bad about the subject of love.

Leon chuckled darkly, a bitter, almost sarcastic sound. The cycle of love you described was something he had never believed in.

"Love can’t just fix itself," he replied, "Once it's destroyed something, it can never bring it back. Nothing can."

You smiled and looked at him, “Sure it can,” you replied, “Love *can* be fixed as it can fix others.”

“It’s everywhere. It’s in the trees, in the sea, in our blood—love exists and it hasn’t died. It can’t die. If there is no love, what will there be?” You said softly, “There will be people that hurt you and no matter how much love you give them, it’ll never be enough.”

“But that doesn’t make it the end of the world. It’s a temporary wound in your heart that feels too deep to heal but like all injuries… it slowly heals. Love is time. And you have time to love,” you muttered softly, still staring at him, “And with the right person, you’ll learn,” you said as you hesitantly rested your hand on his shoulder. Leon didn't look at you, his gaze stayed forward, watching the road. But he could feel the lingering touch of your hand on his shoulder, a stark contrast to his cold demeanor.

"You speak so kindly of love," he said softly, his demeanor softening, "As if it hasn't hurt you before."

He was softening, it’s like he couldn’t stay mad forever. “It has,” you whispered, squeezing his shoulder and giving him a small smile, “But I’ve learned to accept that the pain wasn’t just a setback. It was a step for the future.”

Leon's expression softened ever so slightly as you squeezed his shoulder and smiled at him. Your words, your optimism, it made him feel almost guilty for his cold demeanor.

He inhaled a breath, his body relaxing a little. You were a rare one, he had to admit that. In his line of work, he never encountered people like you, who spoke of love with such gentle wisdom.

As you neared the restaurant, it was busy with late night goers. People dressed in nothing but their bestest dresses and suits. It was quite fancy.

-

You had been sitting at your table that he had reserved, spending the time talking about your interests and telling stories. You don’t think you’ve ever laughed as much as you did tonight. He was funny, charismatic, kind, and patient. It was like he had cracked your introverted shell.

Leon's eyes lingered on you as you laughed, a small, warm smile tugged at the corner of his lips. You looked cute when you laughed, he had to admit. He was enjoying your company more than he thought he would. It wasn't just mindless banter, there was an ease in their conversation that he wasn't used to.

Leon raised his glass of wine, silently gesturing for yours to clink against.

"To a lovely evening," he said, his gaze never leaving yours.

You raised your glass of wine and clinked it against his with a smile, “To a lovely date,” you added before you sipped my glass. Once you put my glass down, you sighed softly and looked at him, “Thank you for this date. I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy before on a first date,” you said with a small laugh.

The corner of Leon's mouth twitched into a small smile again as you thanked him. He was glad to see that you were enjoying yourself as much as he was.

He took a drink from his glass as well, his eyes still studying you, studying that beautiful smile on your face.

"No need to thank me," he said softly, setting his glass down as well. "This night is just as much for me as it is for you."

You leaned forward and rested your arms on the table, “Are you always such a gentleman?” You inquired with interest, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you act differently.”

"Perhaps," he replied, his gaze fixed on you, "I've always been taught to treat women with respect."

“It’s nice,” you whispered with a smile, your cheeks pink from drinking wine, “It’s way better than what modern dating is.”

"Modern dating?" he repeated, arching a brow, "Not into that whole 'Netflix and chill' nonsense?"

You chuckled and shook your head, “Oh, god, no!” You said as you rested your elbows on the table, your chin resting on the palm of your hand, “That’s like asking someone if you want to have sex. And I don’t do it like that.”

“I’d never ask anyone if they want to ‘Netflix and Chill’,” you muttered, “If anyone said that to me, I’d think they were a walking red flag.”

Leon chuckled at your reaction and shook his head as well. It was refreshing to meet someone who wasn't into the casual 'Netflix and chill' culture.

"I'm inclined to agree with you there," he commented, a hint of amusement in his voice, "It's a little too shallow for my taste. I prefer spending time getting to know someone before... well, anything else."

He took a sip of his wine, his gaze still on you, studying your expression. There was something so genuine about you. It was quite rare in his usual line of work.

“I agree with you on that,” you muttered softly as you watched him sip his wine, “I prefer to love than to lust.”

Leon's eyes widened ever so slightly at your words. Your honesty and your perspective on love and lust were a breath of fresh air.

"Love rather than lust, huh?" he replied, his voice almost a whisper. He set his glass of wine back down on the table.

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the table, his gaze intense and focused on you, "Quite a profound way of looking at things," he added, a hint of intrigue in his tone.

“Well, yes,” you said, you could feel yourself enter a state of rambling. Of digressing, if you will, “Everyone is so obsessed with instant gratification that we often forget that the process to reach that state is far more rewarding than the feeling itself.”

“It is like walking up the steps of a mountain and your only goal is to get to the other but in order to get to the other side, you must take calculated steps otherwise you’ll slip and fall. And that’s what life is about. To slip and fall but to also pick yourself up in order to achieve a goal, whether it is eternal happiness or a momentous fleet of bliss, the process in which we get there feels more satisfying than the actual feeling of being at the top that can only last a few seconds,” you rambled.

“Love is cherishing all the moments in which led you to be where you are. If we don’t appreciate what we have, someone else will,” then, your cheeks turned a bit pink as you realized you rambled, “Sorry. I went on a tangent there,” you said with a small and awkward laugh.

Leon simply sat back in his chair, a small smile playing at his lips as you spoke. He found himself listening intently to every word you said, captivated by your passion and eloquence.

"Don't apologize," he said, the hint of a smirk on his lips, "I find it endearing when you get carried away like that. You're quite the deep thinker. I like that."

You chuckled softly and nodded once more. You were indeed a deep thinker, a philosopher at heart. Everything that dealt with life, you loved to hear about.

“I just have a lot of thoughts in my mind,” you muttered quietly, “What about you?” You asked suddenly.

“What do you like to do?” You asked as you tilted your head slightly to the side, almost curiously.

Leon chuckled at your question. It was only fair that he be asked about himself. He took a moment to think before responding.

"What do I like to do?" he echoed, a hint of amusement in his voice, "Well, I'm a man of many interests. I enjoy reading, going to nice restaurants, taking walks... and gambling."

He paused, a sly grin slowly spreading across his face, "And you know I'm a pretty damn good poker player."

You rolled your eyes despite your lips curling into a smile, you weren’t all truly annoyed. He was a really good player that beat various times whenever you played for the first time together. The one where you met.

“Yes,” you nodded your head slightly and sat back, crossing one of your legs over the other, “You are a good player. I’m still grateful you forgave what I owed you after the rounds.”

"You know I have a soft spot for pretty girls," he said with a small chuckle, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary.

He reached across the table and gently patted the top of your hand, his gesture both affectionate and reassuring.

"It wasn't a big deal," he continued, his expression growing serious again, "Besides, I knew you weren't just some rich kid wasting your parents' money. That you were being responsible."

Your face softened and you didn’t move your hand away, the action seemingly affectionate and it warmed your heart. He was so gentle, wasn’t he?

“Just thought of spending a few dollars hoping I’d get more, but I learned my lesson,” you whispered before your hand hesitated a bit. You turned your hand over, essentially putting your palm up against his palm.

Your heart was beating fast, just the simple touch from his hand was enough to set your heart ablaze, “I’d never spend my parents’ money… you’re right on that,” you added, your voice quieter as you stared down at your hands together. Leon's eyes flickered down to where your hands met on the table and lingered there for a moment. He inhaled a tiny breath, his mind momentarily distracted by the feel of your skin against his.

The touch was simple, but in his line of work, he'd nearly forgotten the sweetness of physical affection. He gently curled his fingers over yours, holding your hand in a firm but gentle grip.

The touch was gentle, intimate, and tender. A softness of the warmth shared between you as your fingers gently played across his hand, your thumb rubbing his skin in a setting to wake a trail of warmth.

You didn’t know what took over you to do that but for some reason it felt natural. As if you were meant to hold him like a dream. That’s what he was, a dream personified right before you.

Your eyes drifted from your hands back to his eyes, watching as the dim and orange light of the restaurant play across his features in a harmonious and seraphic light. As your gazes met again, he couldn't help but be entranced by the way the soft candlelight from the restaurant played across your features. It was as if they were crafted to perfectly fit the curves of your face, enhancing your natural beauty.

His thumb gently returned the gesture, rubbing against the base of your hand. A silent, gentle agreement.

Unspoken words and unanswered questions lingered but for now, you’d just enjoy the company of each other. As the date progressed, the night became darker and the restaurant slowly became lone.

After paying, you walked out of the said place and strolled through the sidewalk as you made your way to his car. In the middle of crossing a bridge, the moon’s light reflected on the water beneath you, a shine so bright that you had to stop by the railing and stare at the full moon. Leon's footsteps slowed to a stop as you paused to stare at the moon. He stood beside you, leaning against the railing, his gaze fixated on your face as you looked out at the reflection of the moon shimmering on the water below.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked quietly as you kept your eyes on the moon, a soft breeze blowing by you two.

He glanced up for a moment, taking in the sight of the full moon in the inky black night sky, "It is," he agreed quietly. But as he looked back at you, he found himself thinking that there was a sight even more beautiful right in front of him.

You didn’t even notice his lingering gaze, eyes spoke so many volumes. It’s what makes humans vulnerable, the eyes never lie.

You stood there for what felt like an hour but really it was just a couple of minutes. Your skin chilled with goosebumps as the night breeze brushed over you, once again reprimanding yourself for being cold.

It was a pattern, huh? You being cold and him bringing you warmth. A balance between you. The irony didn't escape him. In any other circumstance, he would consider himself the colder one, and yet, standing beside you right now, in this moment, he could only think of you as the warm one.

He shrugged, then, without missing a beat, he gently draped his coat around your shoulders, the warmth from his body transferring to the fabric.

A smile plastered on your face as you felt the fabric with an all too familiar scent of his cologne. One that you didn’t even realize you had missed so much.

“Thank you for tonight,” you muttered softly, bringing his coat closer to your body, “It’s one of the best dates I’ve ever been on.”

He nodded his head in response, a small smirk playing at the corner of his lips, "It was my pleasure," he replied, his tone genuine.

He paused for a moment, his gaze lingering on you once more, "And in all honesty," he continued, "I had a good time as well. I hope there'll be more nights like this soon."

You nodded and your smile widened, just the thought of seeing him again on a night like this made your insides flutter with joy and excitement. A candid and innocent feeling.

“Yes, I hope so too,” you muttered and stared up at him. It was just the two of you, standing under the moonlight as the sound of water splashed underneath you from below the bridge. Leon couldn't help but smile softly. Your expression was full of innocent excitement, your eyes sparkling in the moonlight.

The sound of water below you two and the soft sounds of the night's insects and the rustle of leaves echoed in the air around you, but all he could focus on was you. You, standing there with his coat draped around your shoulders. You, who, in that moment, seemed more beautiful than ever.

His heart skipped a beat in his chest, and he couldn't help but reach out and gently cup your cheek in his hand.

Your breath hitched, his touch was that of a soft caress. Of an artist admiring their piece of art that had been inspired by their muse. To which in this case, he was the artist and you were his muse.

The night ended perfectly. You had gone to his car to take you back home, although you didn’t really want to leave him just yet. The night felt young but you didn’t want to be selfish and greedy. The drive back to your apartment was quiet and peaceful. There wasn't an ounce of awkwardness, just the comfort of each other's presence. Even as Leon parked the car in front of your home, a part of him wished the night could have lasted just a little longer.

“This is it,” you whispered as you remained sitting in his car while he parked in front of your apartment. You didn’t want to say goodbye, what if you didn’t see him again?

He turned off the engine and turned to you, watching as you spoke the words neither of them wanted to say.

"I guess it is," he replied quietly, his thumb absentmindedly tracing circles against the steering wheel.

You took off his coat and gently placed it in the cupholder separating our seats. Then, you glanced at him. Goodbyes weren’t easy when you didn’t know if you’d see each other again.

A thought occurred to you, you rummaged through your purse and pulled out a small piece of napkin, which had your lipstick stain on it, along with a pen. You wrote your number on the piece of napkin and then handed it to him, but not before you stole a kiss on his cheek. Leon's breath caught in his throat as he felt the surprise kiss against his cheek, the heat of your lips sending a shiver down his spine.

“Call me soon,” you whispered as you stepped out of the car, rather anxiously and a bit hastily. He took the napkin, his gaze flickering to the numbers written on it. He held it in his hand, almost like a lifeline, watching as you stepped out of the car.

"I will," he called out, a hint of something in his voice, as if he was reluctant to let you leave, "I'll call you soon," he repeated, a promise, an assurance to you, and himself.

As soon as you entered your home and closed the door behind you, you let out a breath you had been holding in after kissing his cheek. It was bold for you and it probably caught him off guard but you didn’t regret it one bit.

You felt your heart quicken, now that he had your number, you can definitely keep seeing each other more often. All was not lost tonight.

Leon sat in his car for a moment longer, staring down at the napkin holding your number with your faded lipstick kiss next to it. His mind was racing, his heart still thudding against his chest.

Your kiss was bold, unexpected, yet it sent a spark through him that he hadn't felt in so long. It was like a promise, a declaration that something had shifted.

He folded the napkin and put it in his pocket, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He started his car, heading back home with one thing in his mind. Soon, he'll call you. Soon.

-

For a couple weeks, you’ve gone out on more dates. Dinner dates, walks along the beach, even taking you to a carnival. He was always such a gentleman; holding the door open, carrying you in his arms bridal style if your feet ached from your heels, always stubbornly paying for your food.

And you had no say in anything, he was assertive but gentle. As if he only wanted to take care of you and not make you work or move a muscle. You didn’t mind, of course, but you always made sure to offer to pay for dates (even if it made him reprimand you).

For the first time in my life, you felt happy. Genuinely happy. He was everything, the only reason you woke up all happy was because of him. You were no longer your old self, he converted you into this happier version that you didn’t know you could be.

“Eyes locked on the target, Sir.”

“Good, go on right ahead, bring the captive alive.”

The worst thing imaginable had happened. A man broke into your house, the window crashed and you left your room to investigate.

When you made it to your living room, a figure from behind you suddenly pressed a piece of cloth right under your nose, forcing you to inhale whatever was on that.

Your vision blurred and you slowly felt your body become weak and disoriented. The man kept his grip around your arm tightly, preventing you from moving. When you had finally passed out, he gently laid you down on the floor to communicate with another person.

“Target acquired, returning back to base,” the man said before he picked up your body and threw it over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

-

Leon was slowly falling hard for you. Seeing you happy, laughing, smiling was becoming an addiction for him. Every passing day that he spent with you, he found himself getting more and more attached.

He would do anything for you, pay for everything, pamper you, as long as you were happy and content. Seeing you smile because of him, brought him more joy than anything in the world.

He was falling in love, even if he didn’t quite realize it yet. His heart belonged to you now, whether he admitted it or not.

“Boss,” the voice of a man rang out in Leon’s office. As he had gone on dates with you, he didn’t neglect his duties as the mafia lord.

“Kyle was found dead in the casino. The arms case was missing as well,” he said to Leon. But it wasn’t just a random death. No, it was the act of an enemy mafia group just from the other side of the city. One that had many times tried to assassinate Leon and take over his empire.

Leon's expression darkened as he listened to his underling's report. The news of Kyle's death and the missing arms case was nothing but a nuisance, but the fact that his enemy mafia was behind this bothered him even more.

"Damn it," he muttered, his fists clenching at his sides, “Those bastards are getting bold."

He pushed himself up from his chair, his gaze hardening as he listened to his underling, "Any leads?"

The man shook his head, “No, sir. The body was missing so we couldn’t find the cause of death. But we found a card with the initials of Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi.”

Santo ‘The Suit’ De Lucchi was a long time enemy of Leon. He was the man that had been targeting Leon ever since he became a Mafia boss. Santo was given the nickname ‘The Suit’ because he always played a tricky game.

He was obsessed with card decks, often always leaving behind a suit card on a bloody crime scene after murdering his own enemies. He’d leave the four types of cards behind depending on the message he tried to convey. This time, he had left an 8 of Spades card, meaning that he had a powerful group of men at the ready.

Leon's jaw tensed at the mention of the name. Santo 'The Suit' De Lucchi. He knew that name all too well, and it was never for a good reason.

The mention of the 8 of Spades card made his eyes narrow. It was a warning, a declaration of war. And it was personal.

"How nice of The Suit to leave a calling card," Leon said, his voice laced with anger. "He really wants my attention, doesn't he?"

“What do you want us to do, boss?” The underling asked Leon. War between mafias wasn't uncommon. Almost everyday, there were news of men found dead in the streets from crime and mafia activities. But to prevent panic among the citizens, the police simply said they were civilian disputes. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Leon paused for a moment, his mind racing with thoughts and plans.

"I want you to gather more information about his men, his operations, his every move," Leon ordered, his voice sharp and commanding, "But more importantly, I want to know why he's making a move now. This isn't just some petty feud, it's a message."

Leon's eyes narrowed as he thought, "He's playing a game, and I need to be ten steps ahead if I want to win it."

“On it, boss,” the underling then left Leon’s office, leaving him alone to think to himself.

It was suspicious how The Suit made a move now after years of feuding with Leon. What changed? Who was their next target? The Suit wasn’t going to stop there, no, he won’t. It would only be a matter of time before he went after something Leon cared so deeply about.

As the door closed behind his underling, Leon let out a sigh, leaning back in his chair.

He knew The Suit’s next move wouldn’t be a direct attack at him, no, that was too risky for someone like The Suit. He’d want to hit Leon where it hurt the most.

Leon’s thoughts immediately turned to you. His chest tightened at the idea of you being hurt, being targeted somehow. He had to make sure you were safe. Protected.

[the-sun-and-the-sea]

So I’m finally writing about Finnick’s Games!

[lovelybucky1]

Oooohh i have a request!:

Playing “never have i ever” or something like that with logan and wade (maybe along the lines of a boring friday night with nothing else to do) and you admit to never having an orgasm by anyone but yourself

Flash forward you’re in logan’s arms and wade is eating the fuck out of your pussy, and then they switch 👀👀

i’ve written something similar two the second part here, but i love the never have i ever idea! // divider from @strangergraphics

boredom isn’t something heroes are used to. there’s always something happening somewhere, someone needing to be saved. but tonight, everything is quiet. the three of you were suspicious at first, but you checked every police scanner, news outlet, and all of your contacts and came up with nothing. the bad guys had decided to take an evening off, and now you were stuck with nothing to do.

you, wade, and logan all sit around in the living room with bottles of beer. you and wade stare at the mindless gameshow on tv while logan rests his eyes. you’re definitely bored, but wade is restless. it’s like he’s itching for something to do, like his body is physically unable to handle the inactivity.

“why don’t we play a game?” wade asks, startling logan awake.

the two of you look over at wade. “what kind of game?” you ask.

“i don’t know, ‘never have i ever?’”

logan rolls his eyes, then shuts them again. he’ll deny any “old man” comments, but he really is one. you elbow logan in the side and he opens them again.

“come on, it’ll be fun,” wade pleads.

“it’s not like we have anything better to do,” you say to logan. reluctantly, he agrees.

you reposition yourselves in the living room. you sit on the couch, leaned against the arm with your feet in logan’s lap, who sits on the other end. wade sits on the floor by the coffee table, his beer on the table without a coaster next to him.

“this is your game, wilson. you start,” logan says before taking a sip of his beer.

“no, don’t drink! you only drink if you’ve done the thing i say,” wade scoffs. how can logan be so old and still know nothing about fun? “okay, okay. never have i ever… gotten arrested.”

you furrow your eyebrows at him while logan takes a drink. you’re almost certainly wade has been arrested before. “i don’t think you’re playing this game right,” you say. “you have to say things you’ve never done.”

wade scoffs. “i haven’t been arrested, thank you very much. all the cops who’ve tried have mysteriously ended up with broken noses.”

you roll your eyes at him. “my turn now? never have i ever… cheated on a partner.”

both of them take drinks, wade with more shame than logan. ugh, men.

then it’s logan’s turn. “never have i ever worn a dress.”

you figure it’s targeted at you, just because logan’s a dick, but to your surprise, wade drinks too. logan raises his eyebrow at him, silently urging him to elaborate.

“you wish you saw that, huh, peanut?” he taunts instead. logan makes a face at that.

“i’m thankin’ god i didn’t have to.”

you play a couple more rounds, all three of you exchanging stories and sipping from your bottles. it takes a lot to get them drunk, but you’re starting to feel it. there’s a collection of empty bottles, mostly beer, but halfway through the game, wade decided to up the ante with some liquor.

it’s wade’s turn again and he says, “never have i ever been with two guys at once.”

he means it as a joke. he doesn’t expect anyone to drink. there’s no way logan would do something like that, and you’re too innocent. that’s why his eyes practically pop out of his head when you throw back the shot.

the game turned sexual a few rounds ago, but it was pretty mild stuff. talk about doing stuff in public, kinks, freaky shit like that. nothing as interesting as this.

both wade and logan turn their full attention to you, eager to hear this story.

“what?” you play dumb.

“two guys at once?” wade asks. you shrug.

“it wasn’t anything.”

“nah,” logan says, sounding interested for the first time all game. “you gotta tell us.”

you sigh. “it was a while ago. i met this couple at a bar and they said they were looking for a third. i had nothing better to do and they were both hot, so…” you trail off, shrugging again.

“give us the gory details. how’d you do it? daisy chain?eiffel tower? double cowgirl? triple spooning? come on, tell us,” wade rambles.

“you’re a fucking perv,” you tell him and he doesn’t deny it. “it was just normal dp.”

logan raises an eyebow. “that stands for double penetration,” wade tells him.

“i know that. i’m just wondering how you took it all,” logan says.

you’re used to this kind of talk from wade. the man thinks with his dick so much that you question if he even has a brain. you’re not, however, used to this from logan. he’s no prude, but he usually doesn’t participate in these kinds of conversations with wade.

“must’ve been a tight fit,” logan adds on.

you look between the men and their interested faces. you’re still pretty bored, the game having grown stale a while ago, and now you’re a tipsy. you want something exciting and right now, you’re feeling bold enough to persue it.

“do you wanna see?” you ask them.

wade and logan share a glance, but it only takes a second before they’re replying “yes” in unison.

[sunsburns]

good luck, babe!

pairing: tashi duncan x fem!reader x patrick zweig x art donaldson

summary: patrick zwieg invites tashi duncan and art donaldson to join him at your engagement party. you think they came to celebrate you and your new chapter and put the past behind you, rebuilding lost friendships, but tashi hopes to stop you from marrying a man you never wanted.

—or: the trio crashes your engagement party

word count: 10k+ (i have a serious problem)

contains: SMUT 18+, smut with a lot of plot, post-challengers movie, fluff & comfort, angst, tashi’s pov but lowkey get's mixed up around the end, foursome, oral (fem receiving), oral (m receiving), p in v, unprotected sed (wrap it before yall tap it), homewrecking, cheating but also not cheating but also a worse third thing, three-way make out, four-way make out, dom!tashi, patrick being nasty, art being a loser, no use of y/n, situationship that lasts 13 years.

author’s note: this fic is based on this request with inspo from the greatest song on earth: good luck, babe! it was supposed to be a quick smut blurb but at this point, you all know i can’t write smut without some kind of angsty plot. everyone is super messy and there is some of the dirtiest smut i’ve written so far (it’s only going to get worse from here). this one is a roller coaster.

It didn't make sense to any of them, how you could've possibly ended up with him. 

Tashi remembered him from Stanford vividly. He came from a white-collared family, with daddy's money that bought him everything he could've ever asked for, yet he still wanted more. He played golf and polo and even dabbled with tennis but never had enough guts or skill to take it seriously. But his dad funded most of the programs and events at the school, so everyone had known him, his charm, his family, and his inability to stick to one thing even outside of sports. He clung onto a new girl every other week, a new girl wrapped around his finger only to be ultimately tossed aside like the rest of them.

"What a dick," Tashi remembered you saying once, stabbing your fork into your salad while glaring daggers at him from across the cafeteria as he bragged loudly to his fan club about how he beat you in a game of tennis. 

Which he didn't. 

You let him win. 

His parents had been paying you to coach him, paid you extra every time you let him win a set or two against you, even if it was off the record. God knows you needed the money.

"I think I'm gonna quit." You said, turning back to glance at Tashi.

"About damn time," she snickered, shaking her head. "I told you you're wasting your time with him when you could be doing something better. Like training with me."

You had rolled your eyes and poked her arm with your fork, "If I'm still trailing after him this time next week, shoot me in the head and put me out of my misery."

Almost thirteen years later, you're walking around with his ring on your finger at your engagement party. A party where your fiancé announced your upcoming retirement after a tennis career run that Tashi would’ve killed for: a six-time US Open winner; two-time gold medalist at the Olympics; and brand deals that would ensure you and the next four generations of your family lived happily under your trust fund.

Clearly, you weren't marrying him for his money.

It made Tashi anxious, because, in some way, she could see that the marriage you will have with your fiancé is far too similar to how Tashi's would have been if she and Patrick stayed together. 

Okay, maybe that was a reach.

Or maybe it's how it would've been if neither of you had gone up to Art and Patrick's hotel room that night. Or maybe it would've been Tashi's ring on your finger instead.

She couldn't shake the bitter taste in her mouth as she watched you laugh with him, your eyes lighting up in the way they always did when you were truly happy. It used to be her who made you smile like that. She remembered the late-night practices, the shared victories, and the quiet moments shared in the comfort of her dorm room. She remembered the promises you both made and dreams of dominating the tennis world together.

But she shouldn't dwell on the past, she shouldn't think about what-ifs. At least that's what Art tells her with a hand on her shoulder. Tashi glances at his hand, noting the wedding band that rests on his finger. The squeeze he gives is meant to be reassuring, but instead, it feels suffocating.

"I'll never know how he bagged her," Patrick tuts from her other side, a drink already in his hand. He holds it close to his mouth, biting the rim of the glass before taking a swig, his eyes never leaving you. His gaze is shameless, tracing the way your dress hugs your curves, how your hair shines under the chandelier lights, and the way your lips move as you speak.

"Lucky, lucky man..." Patrick shakes his head, a bitter edge to his voice.

A waiter passes by, offering hors d'oeuvres, and Patrick takes enough for the three of them for himself, setting his empty glass on the platter. As he stuffs an appetizer in his mouth, he begins to walk away, his eyes fixed on you.

"Where do you think you're going?" Art asks, his hand slipping from Tashi's shoulder.

Patrick spins around, mouth full, and shrugs. "To congratulate the future bride."

Art and Tashi stand there, watching, almost dumbfounded when they see Patrick sneak up behind you, wrapping his arms around your middle and lifting you into the air. You shriek, champagne spilling from your glass, but once you see who it is, a wide smile breaks across your face.

"Patrick!" Tashi can hear you from across the hall. Patrick lifts you again, hoisting you into the air. You wrap your arms around his shoulders as he spins you around, your laughter ringing out—a sweet melody that draws the attention of everyone nearby. "You made it!"

Tashi feels a pang of surprise. 

You and Patrick had been in closer contact than she imagined. It stings, a reminder of the distance that had grown between you after her injury, much like the distance that had grown between Art and Patrick. She never knew you had turned to Patrick for comfort. Though it made sense—Patrick was the one you invited, not her, not Art. Patrick was the one who had to ask if he could bring two guests instead of the traditional plus-one. 

But surely, you must have known that if you invited Patrick, Tashi and Art would come too, right? 

Right? 

The question churns a pit of dread in her stomach as Art starts to lead her closer to you out of courtesy.

Patrick's arms are wrapped tightly around your torso, his hand resting too low to be innocent, but you seem happy nonetheless. Happier in Patrick's arms than in the arms of your future husband. You embrace him close, the ring on your finger glimmering under the chandelier lights as you hold onto the back of his neck, your laughter finally subsiding as the spinning stops.

As Tashi and Art approach, the reality of the situation hits her harder. She's watching from the outside, a spectator to your happiness, feeling the sting of what could have been. She forces a smile; your engagement to the worst person in the world can't possibly be the thing that makes her break. Not after everything she's built since she started coaching.

Art tries to catch your eye, offering a polite smile once you let go of Patrick. "Hey."

"Hi," you say breathlessly, a bright smile across your face while Patrick swings his arm over your shoulder. You seem happy, almost relieved that Tashi and Art were here as if you doubted their attendance. "Wow, it's been so long. You guys look great."

"Thanks," Tashi finally says, the words weighing on her tongue like lead.

"You look beautiful," Art tells you, and it's rushed as if he's been trying to keep it to himself but couldn't help it once he was close enough to you.

Before you can get a word out, another arm wraps around your waist, discreetly pushing Patrick away from you to slide into your side. Patrick lets out an annoyed groan, stepping aside as your fiancé squeezes you tightly and says, "She does, doesn't she? Hey, killer."

You turn to him, about to say something, maybe greet him back, maybe introduce him to everyone. But he doesn't let you, he's leaning closer until his lips lock with yours. It takes you by surprise—you flinch at first before finally letting him kiss you properly, his hand cupping the back of your neck, pushing you as close to him as humanly possible.

Art lets out a low, awkward sigh while watching it happen before him, and Patrick rolls his eyes, stepping back in search of a waiter for another drink.

He holds onto you like you're a prize he's won. Almost as if he's been competing with everyone in the world to finally hold you and show you off. As if that's all you had to offer.

You blink, clearly embarrassed, as you clear your throat to disperse the awkward tension in the air. "These are some, uh," you stumble over your words before nodding towards Art, Tashi, and Patrick, "some old friends from college. I'm sure you remember—"

He's interrupting you again, reaching out with the hand that's not on you to shake Tashi's hand. He holds it tightly, his thumb pressing against her wedding ring. "Tashi Duncan, how could I ever forget? Still beautiful as ever."

She has to force herself to smile, for your sake. "Good to see you too—"

"You know," your fiancé starts, cutting her off, "I still remember the time you told me to suck a bag of dicks 'cause I took up your court time. Best day of my life."

"Yeah," Patrick laughs. He's found another glass of champagne to sip on, and it's by his lips when he says, "who doesn't love getting cussed out by Tashi."

You wince. "Patrick—"

"No, no. He's right. It's one out of a million. I took it as a compliement," your fiancé says, glancing at Tashi again, his eyes darting up and down, lingering on her wedding ring once more before she finally pulls her hand out of his grasp. He spots the arm Tashi has been clinging to. "Art Donaldson, I'm a big fan."

Art stiffens as if taken by surprise. "Really?"

Your fiancé is nodding, and when Art glances your way for a split second, he tugs you closer. "You're incredible. Watching you play, it's like, woah! He's killin' it out there. Too bad you've retired though, would've loved to see you play longer."

There's a faint redness to Art's face when he nods. "Oh, thank you."

"I've always wondered if I'd turn out the way you did if I stuck to tennis." Then he laughs, nudging your side. "If only this one put me to work like Tashi did to you, maybe we would've competed in the US Open a few times."

You snort and shake your head, the idea of watching the two of them even standing on the court together amusing you. "You couldn't beat Art if you tried."

Your fiancé shrugs. "Maybe Patrick."

"Stop kidding yourself. You can't even beat your nephew and he's twelve."

He hums, turning so that he'll face you. He holds your waist with both hands, caressing you gently. "You sure know your way into a man's heart, baby," he says lowly before kissing you again. It's rough and messy, his tongue forcing its way into your mouth. You shriek and press your hands against his chest. He doesn't let go immediately, peeking a glance towards the trio while kissing you.

Tashi feels a knot of disgust tightening in her stomach. The audacity of him to touch you like that in front of them, as if he’s marking his territory, sets her blood boiling just a little bit. God, did no one teach this guy any kind of etiquette?

She catches Art's expression out of the corner of her eye—his jaw is clenched as he turns to look away. Patrick's lips curl in a sneer, the glass in his hand trembling slightly. He fights the urge to throw it.

Your fiancé reaches down and gropes your ass over your silky white dress before finally separating from you.

You stand there, looking flushed and embarrassed, letting him whisper something in your ear before he walks off, joining a group of men who whistle and catcall at him as he nears them. Each jeer and hoot feels like a slap to the face.

"Uh, sorry," you apologize, unable to meet their eyes as you blindly wipe at your chin to fix your lipstick. "That was... I don't know what's gotten into him. He's not usually like this. He's, uh... he's great."

Patrick scoffs, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Yeah, real great."

Tashi can’t help but frown, her heart aching as she watches you fumble. "You can't possibly want to marry him," she wants to say, but the words get stuck in her throat. She can't bear to hear the answer, especially if it's the one she fears.

Art steps forward, his face a careful mask of neutrality. "If you’re happy," he says, but there's an edge to his tone, a challenge. The unspoken words hang heavily in the air: "Are you?"

You nod quickly, too quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as them. "Sure, sure. I mean, what’s not to be happy about? His family loves me. I'm retiring this year, and gonna spend more time with my family. Hopefully more time with some old friends?"

"Old friends?" Tashi repeats, the words tasting bitter on her tongue. The casual way you say it, as if years of distance and silence can be bridged with a few meetings, stings more than she cares to admit.

"Yeah, before I get busy with the baby."

"Baby?" Patrick's voice is sharp, almost disbelieving. "You’re pregnant?"

"What? No!" You quickly sputter, shaking your head. Then you pause, a thought crossing your mind and you lighten up a little bit, a hopeful smile gracing your face, "But I do want kids one day. I want three."

"Does he want kids?"

"We've talked about it, but he shuts it down all the time."

"You poor thing." Patrick puffs out, pinching your arm before reaching for your hand and leading you toward the bar. "Let's bring this conversation outside, ladies. I need a smoke. And you all need a drink stronger than his champagne."

The idea of fresh air and a strong drink is appealing. After grabbing a bottle of finely aged wine, the four of you make your way to the garden outside the grand hall. The shift from the stuffy indoor atmosphere to the cool night air is a relief. 

The moonlight casts a silvery glow over the meticulously maintained garden, illuminating the path with a soft, ethereal light. You glow in your pretty white dress, the fabric shimmering as you take a seat on a patch of grass near the rose bushes. The scent of roses mingles with the crisp night air, creating a tranquil yet poignant backdrop. You glance up at the three of them who stand there, watching you.

Tashi raises a brow as you take a long swig of the wine. She didn't remember you to be much of a drinker. 

"It's not that big of a deal," you say, passing her the bottle when she finally sits next to you. 

It's as if her movement had woken the two guys and then Art takes a seat on your other side while Patrick lies down on the grass a few feet away to light a cigarette. 

You pout, "If he doesn't want kids, then we won't have kids."

"But you want kids," Tashi reminds you, but it's more of a question as if she's wondering if that's truly what you want. Don't get her wrong, Tashi loves being a mother, she would kill anyone for Lily, but you wanting kids barely before confirming your retirement threw her off a little bit.

"Of course I do." You hiccup, reaching for the bottle again. "I'm not getting any younger. It's just... he'll come around."

"And if he doesn't?" Art asks, his voice gentle but probing.

"Can we not talk about that right now? I just want to get shitfaced and party."

"Now we're talkin'!" Patrick interjects, his grin wide as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The embers glow briefly in the dark.

"Come on, everybody gather." Patrick flicks his cigarette off to the rocky pathway and snags the bottle from Art's hands. He raises it, nodding at you with that same smirk he's had for years. Snarky, cocky, and yet endearing. "To celebrate new beginnings. Even if your future husband's a dick and can't make you cum nearly half as hard as I can. Good luck, babe."

The rest of you all make a noise of annoyance, rolling your eyes. "Seriously?"

"Shut the fuck up, Patrick," Art scoffs, though there's a faint smile tugging at his lips as you let a giggle slip out past your fake annoyance.

Patrick's smile only widens at the sound of his friends' protests. It reminds him of the good old years when his biggest worry was which shorts he'd wear to his next game. "Cheers!"

As the bottle is passed around, Tashi can't help but feel a pang of nostalgia mixed with bitterness. The comradery of the past clashes painfully with the reality of the present. Is this how things are going to be like now? Is this night a call for a truce, waving the white flag so that all of you could be friends again, now as adults, making plans for brunch and getting the kids together for birthday parties?

You take another sip from the bottle, your gaze drifting towards the moonlit sky. "To new beginnings," you repeat softly, though the hope in your voice is tinged with uncertainty.

Tashi leans back, her eyes lingering on you, a mix of longing and regret pooling in her heart. Art sits quietly beside her, lost in his thoughts, while Patrick’s laughter rings out, masking deeper sentiments beneath his forced cheerfulness. The chatter and music from the hall spill into the garden, the warm lights casting a golden glow over the scene. Patrick talks animatedly about the seasons he thinks he has left in him, and to Tashi's annoyance, you encourage him.

She shakes her head at the way Patrick's eyes light up, glancing at her with a knowing look. Despite her irritation, she can't deny the comfort of slipping back into their old dynamic.

Suddenly, Art hums thoughtfully. He has been mostly quiet, listening to the conversation with occasional quiet laughs. Now, as he puts down the empty bottle of wine, he looks at you, his eyes more alive than they have been in a long time. "I had a burger for the first time in years," he announces, a smile spreading across his face as if he is proud of it.

You gasp, perking up as you reach over to hold his hands. "How was it?"

"Amazing," Art says fondly, "like heaven inside a bun."

"You should've seen him," Tashi smirks, shoulder to shoulder with Patrick, playfully kicking Art. "He was drooling just looking at the menu."

He rolls his eyes, "I wasn't drooling." When you fall silent, he looks at you again, frowning. "You haven't had one in a while, have you?"

You shake your head, "No, I think the last time I had one was when we graduated."

Patrick scoffs, "Bullshit."

You laugh, "It's true! I've been very strict with my diet. And now that I've retired... I don't know..." You shrug, suddenly getting shy as Art starts tracing stars against the back of your hand. "There are so many options, I wouldn't know where to start."

"It doesn't have to be anything fancy," Tashi says.

"Pretty sure I saw an old diner on the way here," Patrick suggests. He stands, stretching and groaning before bending over to take Tashi's hand and help her up.

You sputter, watching them all start to stand before you. "Shut up, we're not driving, you're drunk."

"But sober enough to see how badly you want this," Patrick teases, waving a finger near your face and smirking. "You're drooling."

"No, I'm not!"

"Sure you are," Art joins in, pulling you up to your feet. He swipes a thumb at your chin, "Look right there, by your lip."

"Oh," Tashi grins, "I see it."

"Shut up, Tash, no you don't." The words fall from your lips before you can stop them. The old nickname fits too smoothly as if it hasn't been years since you've called her that. Tashi smiles, feeling like a teenager again, messing around with you. She starts to walk off, Art and Patrick following her while you stand there, dumbfounded and a little breathless from their teasing.

"Where are you going?"

"To get a burger?" Tashi shrugs, and she smirks at you, a mischievous smile that makes you wonder if any of you have ever grown up at all. "You coming or what?"

You try to be reasonable, "I can't just leave."

"We'll bring you back before anyone notices," Patrick bargains, jogging back to your side and taking your arm to lead you to the exit. "Lighten up, when was the last time you had some fun?"

You don't even look back.

You find yourself laughing, nodding as the four of you make your way out of the garden. The moonlight guides your steps, casting long shadows on the path.

The walk is a blur of laughter and shared stories, the kind of carefree joy that you haven't felt in years. Before long, you arrive at the diner. The neon lights buzz softly, casting a nostalgic glow over the parking lot. You can smell the greasy, comforting aroma of burgers and fries even before you step inside.

The few people in the diner stare, watching as what seems to be a runaway bride and three wedding guests stumble and giggle over each other, lips a little purple from the wine you've all had and ordering burgers to go.

Once you have your food, you all find yourselves sitting on the curb of the diner's parking lot, the warm night air wrapping around you like a comforting blanket. Patrick hands out the burgers, his eyes twinkling with a mischievous light as he makes a show of presenting yours to you. "First bite in... how many years?"

"Too many," You take the burger with a chuckle, unwrapping it and taking a bite. "Oh my God," you mumble around your mouthful, "this is amazing."

Tashi watches you, a soft smile playing on her lips. "Told you."

Art takes a bite of his own burger, nodding in agreement. "There's nothing like it."

You shake your head, going in for more, "This is the greatest thing I've put in my mouth."

Patrick, already halfway through his, lets out a loud laugh, "Yeah, I bet."

The parking lot felt like a little bubble of the past, untouched by the years that had separated you. It was strange how easy it was to fall back into the rhythm of your old friendships, how natural it felt to banter and laugh as if no time had passed at all.

Tashi rolls her eyes, though you don't even seem phased by Patrick's joke. "I can't even get mad," you say, swallowing, "I feel like I'm eighteen again."

"Tell me about it," Art agrees. Then he pauses for a beat, chewing on her burger a little slower before turning to you. "You know, this reminds me of that time... when, you know."

"Oh," You snort and nod, scrunching up your face at the memory. "Yeah. It kinda does."

"What?" Patrick looks between the two of you, raising his brow in interest. "What time?"

"It was a long time ago," you tell him.

"Like back in Stanford," Art explains, and then he points between Tashi and Patrick with his burger, "when you two were still a thing."

Tashi sits up straight now, her full attention on you and Art. "Oh, really?"

"It was that time Patrick came for a surprise visit in the middle of our girls' night," you say, nodding your head at her, hoping she'd catch up with the memory. "And you kicked me out of your dorm so you and Patrick could... you know."

Tashi nods. "Have some alone time." She finishes for you.

She remembers that night well: you were both nestled in the haven of her dorm room, the soft glow of the television casting gentle shadows on the walls as the movie played on. You were curled up under her covers, your bodies intertwined, legs tangled together in a comforting knot. The world outside ceased to exist in those moments, leaving just the two of you in your little cocoon of comfort.

Tashi can still feel the sensation of your fingers running through her hair, the tender, rhythmic motion soothing her in a way nothing else could. The warmth of your touch lingered on her scalp, your fingers traced lazy patterns, and she remembered the way her body instinctively relaxed into yours.

But then came the knock on the door, and she felt her heart jump at her throat as she swung her legs out from under the covers and padded softly to the door.

When she opened the door, there stood Patrick, his presence almost surreal. He was holding a bouquet of carefully picked-out flowers, their vibrant colours contrasting sharply with the dim light of the hallway. His smirk was both nervous and charming

"You kicked her out?" Patrick gasps, and Tashi gives him a blank stare. He's acting as if he wasn't even there, as if he didn't stand by her desk while watching her scramble to clean up the mess the two of you made in her dorm and shove you out the door before locking it.

Patrick shrugs, that stupid smirk painted on his lips again before he finishes his burger. "Would've let you stay if it were up to me," he tells you, "The more, the merrier."

"No way," you poke your tongue at the inside of your cheek. "She wanted you all for herself."

"Please, I would've been too distracted with you to even give him my time of day," Tashi admits. "I did you a favor, Patrick. Saved you from blue balls."

He holds a hand to his heart. "I'm so honored."

"But anyway," you start, "while I was walking back to my dorm I bumped into Art, who got stood up on a date."

Patrick blinks, turning to Art. "You got stood up?"

"Was it that girl from marketing?" Tashi asks.

Art's cheeks start to turn red, the flush growing from his neck and up to his ears at the attention. "Yeah, she, uh, she bailed on me last minute."

"I remember you telling me the date went well," Patrick says. "That you guys went out late, bought takeout... you made out in your car," Then, to fuck with him, he adds, "You came in your pants 'cause she kissed your neck. Remember?"

"And that did happen," Art confesses begrudgingly, glaring at Patrick while Tashi laughs. "It’s just... it wasn't with her..."

"It... it was me," you admit.

Tashi wishes she could say she's surprised, but it's nearly impossible because anyone who knew you back in college knew very well about the big crush you harboured for a certain blonde. She knew the way you swooned after him, even if you never tried to admit it because it was too embarrassing.

"Wait, so," Tashi starts, poking at your side and drawing a nervous giggle from you. It makes her smile. "Is Art that guy you told me about, with the puppy eyes and pretty smile?"

"Okay," you puff out, blushing, "I did not say puppy eyes."

"You think I have puppy eyes?" Art asks you, his gaze softening.

When you take a few seconds too long to answer, Patrick claps his hands together and swings his arm over yours and Art's shoulders, pulling the two of you closer to him. "Aw," he teasingly coos at the two of you getting all flustered, "you think he has puppy eyes."

"It was so long ago," you say, running your hands over the soft fabric of your dress. "I don't even remember."

"I'm so sure you don't," Patrick hums, a knowing look in his eyes before he presses a sloppy kiss against your cheek.

You groan, shoving your hand in his face to push him off before you stumble to stand on your feet again, wiping your cheek from his spit. "You're disgusting," you huff, but there's no real bite in your words because there's a faint smile threatening to appear at the corners of your lips. 

You stand there for a beat or two, brushing off your dress and feeling the weight of the night settling in. You stare down at the three of them sitting on the curb, the neon lights of the diner buzzing behind you. You can see the hall where your engagement party is from where you stand; you almost don't want to go back.

"Okay," you tuck your lower lip between your teeth as you hesitate, "this... this has been fun."

"Don't leave yet," Tashi says while Art's smile drops, his face falling in disappointment.

"Yeah," Patrick rushes to stand, reaching for you, "the party was just getting started."

"I really have to get back," you step away. "If anyone finds out I left, I'll hear about it for days. This has been great. Like, seriously, I don't think I've ever laughed this hard since before..." You trail off, your tongue getting tied as you glance at Tashi, then at her knee, covered by the length of her dark purple dress. You clear your throat. "Well, uh, I better go. But thank you again, for the beer and the burgers and the memories. I hope you guys can make it to the wedding."

You start to walk away before they can say anything. Like, on purpose, as if you know that if they tried to make you stay and ditch your party, you would. You would cave to their defences.

The sound of your heels is deafening. Tashi watches you go, she watches how you wrap your arms around yourself, and it all feels too similar to how she watched you go all those years ago and never chased after you. 

"Don’t marry him," Tashi stands from the curb. She's shaky on her feet, taking long strides to walk past Patrick and hoping to catch up to you. She sees you freeze in your steps, barely out of the parking lot. You turn to look at her quickly, face falling in shock at her demand.

"What?" Your voice is quiet, hoping that your ears are betraying you.

Tashi slows down once she is close enough, the distance between you is almost nothing but the gap feels like miles. The red and blue lights from the neon sign blend into a deep purple against your skin, casting an ethereal glow that makes this moment feel suspended in time. She watches your face, sees the way your brows knit together, the flicker of anger and confusion in your eyes.

Her heart is pounding, the blood rushing in her ears almost drowning out her voice. But she forces herself to speak, her voice low and urgent. "Don’t marry him," she says again, each word feeling like it's being ripped from her chest. Her resolve, which had held firm all these years, finally crumbles.

Getting Patrick back into her life had been one of the most complicated, tangled pains she had ever undertaken. The late-night calls, the awkward meetings, the painstakingly slow rebuilding of trust between herself and Art. 

None of it had been easy.

Yet, even with Patrick back, there had always been something missing—a void that only you could fill.

She looks into your eyes, her gaze unwavering, despite the tears welling up. "Please," she pleads, her voice breaking. "Please, don't marry him." The words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea that carries years of longing and regret. She knows that having you back won't make up for the lost time, and won't magically fix all the mistakes and missed opportunities. But she can at least try, can at least fight for the chance to make things right.

"Tashi, you can't possibly be asking me to—"

"It’s not worth it," she tells you anyway, her voice trembling with the weight of unspoken truths. She knows it’s a risk, a gamble she's taking by laying her heart bare, but she can’t hold back any longer. The years of resentment, of silent longing, bubble to the surface, fueled by the sight of you with someone else's ring on your finger. It's a bitter pill to swallow, the realization that she resented you not for leaving, but for never coming back. 

Why didn't you come back?

Tashi's words hang heavy in the air, a desperate plea born from years of unspoken desires and regrets. "Both of you want different things anyway. You don't love him," she continues, her voice raw with emotion, "it's not gonna last. One day you're gonna wake up in the middle of the night and realize I'm right. You'd hate to admit it, but I will be right. I am right. He doesn't deserve you. He's no good for you."

You scoff, "And you are?"

"You said it yourself," she presses on, her voice barely above a whisper, "You've never laughed the way you do with us. And you kept in touch with Patrick, so that's gotta mean something." It's a feeble attempt to grasp at straws. "Marrying him will just be another excuse, another stupid reason. I thought you were better than that."

Then she remembers that night before you left for London, back in 2012. It's like a distant memory now, a flicker of what could have been. The air was thick with anticipation, the tension palpable as you stood on the precipice of something new. She remembers the way your eyes met hers after your exchange with Art at the hotel bar, a brief greeting with an old friend, both of you at the peaks of your careers. It is a silent exchange of longing and regret. For a moment, it felt like time stood still, like the world was holding its breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

She remembers the smell of your perfume, the bitterness of the drink you were having and how she could taste it when she kissed you; tongue running over your teeth, nails clawing at skin, hair tangled between fingers, hot breaths and unkept promises and false apologies and a night of regret.

And then the morning came, and with it, you had to leave. And she never stopped you.

"Tashi… I can't just throw this all away for you. For any of you. You were the one who told me to leave."

"I know."

"Because you know everything, right? Because you know he's not good for me, you know it all."

"I know you."

"No, you don’t," you say, your voice tinged with hurt. "Not anymore.”

Tashi huffs, shaking her head before she reaches out, cupping your cheeks gently in her hands. Her lips hover over yours for a moment, a silent plea hanging in the air between you. She waits, her heart pounding in her chest, for you to make a move—to kiss her, to push her away, anything.

You gaze into her eyes, tears glistening in the dim light, before finally closing the distance between you. The kiss is tender, and bittersweet, a culmination of years of unspoken longing and regret. It's a brief moment of solace amid chaos.

Your hands dig into the nape of her neck, where the short ends of her dyed hair tickle the skin of your wrist. The heat of your engagement ring nearly burns her, the edge of the diamond scraping against her skin.

When you pull away, breathless, Tashi fears this will be the last time she will see you. 

"Tashi, this doesn’t change anything," you say, your voice trembling.

"It changes everything," she whispers, her fingers tracing the line of your jaw. "You know it does."

But you step back, breaking the contact, the distance between you growing with each passing moment. "I have to go," you murmur, the weight of the decision heavy on your shoulders. "I need to think."

As you walk away, Tashi watches you go, her heart heavy with uncertainty. She clings to the memory of that fleeting moment, a glimmer of hope in the darkness. 

Back in the hotel room, an uneasy silence settles among the trio. Tashi steps out of the shower, her mind a whirlpool of conflicting emotions. The press of your lips still lingers on her own, a persistent buzz that crawls under her skin. 

As she rubs lotion into her arms, she takes her time, methodically moving over each inch of her skin as if she could somehow rub away the confusion and yearning. She finishes her skincare routine, staring at herself in the mirror, almost meeting the eyes of the eighteen-year-old girl who had her whole life ahead of her. It's a constant chant in her head not to dwell in the past. 

She has to focus—she needs to find a way to pull Patrick Zweig out of the top 200 ranks and get him qualified for the US Open by the time the next season starts.

Speaking of the devil, when Tashi steps out of the bathroom, she finds Patrick lounging on the loveseat by the open window. Naturally, his shirt has found itself a home on the floor, and a cigarette dangles from his lips.

He perks up when she walks out, sitting up to greet her, "Don't beat yourself up."

Tashi rolls her eyes and climbs into the bed, letting herself sink into the soft comforter. "Shut the fuck up, Patrick. And put that shit out."

"I'm just saying," he shrugs, taking one last drag before flicking the cigarette out the window, grinning when he hears Tashi scoff. "She's a stubborn little shit," he says as the hotel door clicks open and Art walks in. Patrick hums, "Probably only marrying him to piss us off anyway. Been trying to talk her out of it for months. Never listens."

"She might listen to Tashi," Art says, turning to his wife with a hint of optimism in his voice. "Lily's asleep, by the way."

"Right, because my word is stronger than both of yours," Tashi retorts, pulling the blanket over her legs.

Art and Patrick glance at each other before nodding, "Yes."

"Well, yeah."

They all sit in silence for a while, each lost in their own little bubble. The hotel room is quiet except for the faint hum of the air conditioner and the occasional rustle of the bedspread. 

Art joins Tashi on the bed, absently flipping through the channels on the television, the remote clicking softly in his hand. Beside him, Tashi pretends to read a book, her eyes scanning the same sentence over and over again without really absorbing the words. Meanwhile, Patrick rummages through the mini fridge, the sound of bottles clinking and wrappers crinkling breaking the stillness.

A quiet knock on the door makes the three of them freeze, their heads snapping up in unison. They exchange hesitant glances, each wondering if they imagined it. Then three raps against the wood sound again, more insistent this time. Patrick scrambles to the door, Art and Tashi close behind him, their curiosity piqued and their hearts pounding.

Patrick swings the door open, and there you are, a sight for sore eyes. You're still in the same dress, though one of the straps has fallen off your shoulder, and your makeup is smudged around your eyes. You hold your phone close, dropping it from your ear.

"I tried calling," you say, turning your phone so they can see Patrick's contact, a simple 'pat' with a cute tennis ball emoji next to his nickname. "You never answered."

"My phone died." He shrugs.

You let your hand fall to your front, where your fingers pull on each other nervously. Tashi can't help but notice the lack of a ring on your finger all of a sudden. She raises her brows at you, a knowing look flashing across her face before she tells you, "Something's changed."

You roll your eyes and step into the room, sliding between Art and Patrick easily. "A lot has changed." You walk until you reach the middle of the room. 

It's a big hotel room, not nearly as big as the ones Art and Tashi are used to staying in, but big and luxurious nonetheless. You fit in perfectly with your white gown and styled hair, a vision of elegance even in your dishevelled state.

You turn, facing the three of them again. "I hope whatever offer you guys were hinting at earlier still stands... I don't exactly have anywhere else to stay, unless I want to hear my mother telling me how she was right the entire night."

Tashi smirks. "You know I'm about to tell you the same thing too, right?" She closes the space between the two of you, tucking a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. Her nails brush against your jaw in a feather-light touch until her fingers pause below your lips.

"Yeah, I know."

You don't seem too upset about it. Instead, you're grinning, letting Tashi push her thumb between your lips. The gesture is intimate, charged with unspoken emotion. You're standing face-to-face when she says, "I told you so."

She leads you to sit on the bed, and you let her, nearly tripping over your heels before you land on the soft duvets. Tashi leans down, her nose brushing against yours, and you swallow your heart racing.

"You were right," you murmur. It's hard to maintain eye contact when your skin is buzzing with heat and when there's so much going on in the depths of her eyes that it dizzies you. "I hate it, though."

Her nose is cold against yours, a sharp contrast to the warmth of her breath. You let your eyes fall shut as she slowly traces patterns under your chin, pressing her thumb harder into your mouth before pulling it out. She catches the side of your face with it, making a mess with your spit.

She smiles, "I know you do."

Instinctively, and embarrassingly, there's a shiver rolling down your spine.

Tashi releases a small chuckle, and then, after a final moment, her lips fill in the small gap between you both. You sink into it immediately, heart rejoicing as her lips, warm and smooth, explore your own.

It's a little fumbly, nervous and making you tremble under her hands. Tashi loves every second of it. Her fingers grip your face tighter, mouth pressing to yours with more hunger as you wind your fingers into her hair and sigh. Between gasped breaths and soft sounds of enjoyment, she slips her tongue along your lower lip, and so you open your mouth a little wider.

Tashi ends up straddling you, making out like you're both teenagers again, putting on a show for Art and Patrick. The exhilarating butterflies twirling in your stomach match the memories, too. 

You moan softly as she pulls away from your mouth, her attention shifting to your neck. As you watch Patrick and Art make their way to sit next to you on the bed, the bed dipping, you tilt your head to the side and open up your throat to Tashi. You whimper as you feel her lips drag over your exposed skin. She nibbles and sucks until she finds the sensitive part that makes you cry out.

"Fuck," you whimper. You tug on her air-dried curls, coaxing her back up to your lips so you can enjoy the feeling of her mouth on yours. Tashi sighs, and you can feel her smiling into it while beckoning Art and Patrick to join in.

Their lips are on you in a split second, with Art pressing soft, ticklish kisses against your collarbone, and Patrick sliding his tongue from your shoulder to the back of your ear. He's moaning at the taste of you, sucking a bruise under your jaw while digging his hand into the back of your hair. 

He slowly starts to bring his sloppy kisses to your mouth, lips brushing against Tashi's and your own before she draws back. You whine, pouting as you watch her take a few steps away before making herself comfortable in the cushioned seats by a small dining table. You can't pout for too long, because now Patrick is kissing you, tugging softly at your hair until your back arches.

His tongue presses against yours, pressing as far back as he can reach, swallowing your every moan and whimper. You bring your hand up to scratch at his beard, then run your nails over his scalp. This is when Art starts to get a little bolder by running his hands up and down your thighs, pulling and pulling the long skirt of your dress until he reaches the end of it and he can touch your skin and take off your heels, tossing them aside somewhere.

Patrick traps your lower lip between his teeth, watching it bounce back into its place as he leans back just the slightest bit. You break apart with a whimper. Your half-lidded eyes meet his, then flick down to the trail of spit strung between your glistening lips. He stares at you, cheeks a little red as he smirks, "I've missed this. Missed you."

You smile, breathless as Art's hand makes its way up higher and higher and closer to your heat, his mouth is relentless with its attack at your neck. He grinds his crotch against the side of your leg and you cradle the back of his head with your other hand.

"You saw me last week, Patrick."

"Last week?" Art pulls away. His lips are parted, eyes a little dazed but focused enough to stare between you and Patrick in confusion. Tashi smirks from where she sits and shifts in her place.

"We're not all perfect, Art." You groan, rolling your eyes as Patrick laughs, reaching over you to start pulling down Art's pants who shifts in his place to let him. Once they're off, he looks at you, and it's embarrassing how fast you tangle together, melding together into a pathetic heap on the bed for Tashi and Patrick to see. 

Your lips move in tandem, his soft, pouty lips slitting against yours with ease as you lead his hands to your chest and shove them under your dress.

Art squeezes and fondles your breasts over your bra, his hips jerking against your leg again, almost desperate as his boner presses against the fabric of your dress as it has fallen down again.

Tashi startles you as she settles behind, one knee on the bed while her other long leg steadies her on the carpeted floor below. You let her tilt you backward, parting you from Art and she draws you into an upside-down kiss. The salacious kiss leaves your legs parting for the two men beside you. 

Patrick makes quick work of taking that damn dress off of you and you sputter out a pathetic moan when Art's soft hands tease your hardening nipples once Patrick gets half of it off.

Your dress eventually falls into a heap on the floor in front of the bed, you’d matched with it a white paired set underneath. 

"No fucking way," You peek one eye open slightly to see Patrick scowling while Art runs his hands everywhere he can reach, across your stomach, your thighs, under your boobs, down your back. 

Patrick tilts his head and groans, "I can't believe you wore this shit for him."

Your hand cups Tashi's jaw to deepen the kiss as you both ignore Patrick, only Art snorting out a laugh as he tugs his shirt over his head. 

Patrick slots himself between your open legs, stopping just a breath short of your aching cunt to nip teasingly at your soft inner thigh before dragging his mouth up to your neck again. He revels in the moans he's able to draw from you as he finally comes to caress your face. 

You pull away from Tashi and gasp in a breath. "Kiss me, Pat," You bite your lip, feeling your heart race as he eyes you up so openly. 

"Beg me," He counters with a quirked brow, challenging you. 

Your nose crinkles, "I'm not doing that."

"I'm not kissing you, then."

"Shut up and kiss her, Patrick," Tashi groans, attached to Art. She holds his face the same way she did with you, pulling him closer and letting the man crawl to her. But she's glaring at Patrick with venom behind it you know she can’t mean when she's trembling under Art's gentle touch as he slips off her silky nightgown.

"Come here," You beckon Patrick closer with a fiendish look in your half-lidded eyes.

"Yes, ma'am." Patrick nods, dazed as he obliges. "Anything you want, beautiful," His voice slightly slurs as the space between you diminishes once again. "I'll do anything for you," His husky voice drapes around your name like velvet as it's whispered against your plush lips.

Your hands easily find themselves tangled in Patrick's curly hair and tug him to your lips with aching want. You dive in immediately, lips meshing against and, eventually, catching against his chapped lips. 

A moan escapes from your throat and he uses it as an opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth. From there, it's another flurry of saliva, tongue and entirely too much white-hot pressure building below. 

When you break for a breath, a string of saliva stretches between each of your red, puffy lips. Patrick groans at the sight and pulls you in for a slower, raw kiss that leaves you slick and trembling for more. When you pull apart again, Patrick plants a sweet kiss on Art's mouth before focusing back solely on you, his hand slowly approaching your white thong.

When he starts to rub, you moan into his mouth and start trailing your hand to his crotch, palming his dick. Patrick reciprocates easily and tugs at your lower lip with an impish look in his eyes. 

Lips attack your neck again, pulling you higher up on the bed. You hear pants and clothes being shed from every angle around you before you're surrounded again, hands everywhere.

While Art pulls Patrick into a kiss, Tashi cups your face again and draws you into a gentle one as you settle between her legs, your back to her chest. You rest your head on Tashi's shoulder as you heave out another breath, her hands travelling from your navel to tracing shapes on your clit, over your wet panties, spreading your legs apart with her own. 

"Please, Tash," you whimper as her fingers curl around the edge of the fabric and tug so it strains against your leaking cunt perfectly. She then decides to skim a whisper of her touch against your pulsing ache. 

You gape as Patrick wraps his hand around Art's dick, stoking it, and he lets out the prettiest little whine. Patrick slowly works his way down Art's body, running his tongue between each curve of his muscles, collecting the sweat that's been building on his skin before wrapping his mouth around him, taking all of it in one insatiable bob of his head.

Tashi's nails tickle lightly up your stomach, then in the valley between your breasts and then back down again. It has you spiralling, arching your back as she presses a kiss at your neck.

"You're being so good," she coos into your ear. Your name is only a breath out of her mouth, and she's edging your clit with a gentle roughness that could only come from a woman of her calibre. Tashi pulls your panties aside and flicks and flits about your dripping cunt like she already knows how to make you come undone.

It makes you tremble. You'd sworn up and down earlier about how Tashi didn't know you anymore, and here she is, proving to you that she still does, that she knows every curve and divot of your body, that she still knows what makes you whimper and twitch.

Your hand quickly reaches behind you, between the heat of your back and her body and finds her clit and you try to emulate how she's making you weak. Each quiet gasp you earn from her has you moaning back tenfold under her saccharine trance and she quickly starts pumping two fingers into you.

One particular flick of Tashi's thumb on your clit coupled with her lips gliding against and sucking your own in a wanton kiss sends you over the edge. You moan and cum, back arching as you relentlessly force Tashi's hand against your cunt, searching for more delicious friction. 

She takes you all, and lets you ride it all out on her fingers while swallowing every moan you let out in a lewd, wet kiss. Art and Patrick moan appreciatively at the two of you, then focus back on each other.

Before you're able to come down from your high, Art's shoving his come down Patrick's greedy throat. He swallows it all, pulling off Art's red-tipped cock with a vulgar pop that creates a trail of saliva in its wake. 

Patrick smiles down at you and leans closer, and you think he's about to kiss you but then he swerves and kisses Tashi instead, who removes her hand from your cunt and slowly works it up his thigh until she cups his balls and gives them a gentle squeeze. He moans into her mouth, winking at you amid his impromptu make-out session you were tempted to join.

You shimmy back and turn on your stomach, positioning yourself between Tashi's long tanned legs. "Can I eat you out?" You ask while kissing up her leg, and you want to hear how much she needs you. You bite at your bottom lip as you nuzzle into her juicy cunt. "Tashi?" You look up at her from where your face is pressed against her. Her sweet smell makes you sigh as you tease your tongue with her hip bone. "Please, Tash, let me taste you." 

"Yeah, go for it," Comes her breathless plea.

You finally pull her lips apart, revelling in how she squirms against your hold on her hips. 

You're on your knees, trapped arching between Tashi's long legs when you hear Art clear his throat. You give one long lick up Tashi's twitching cunt before turning around with her slick dribbling down onto your chin to where Art has sidled up behind you.

Art crawls closer to you, "Can I touch you, beautiful?" He tilts your chin up as he awaits your answer. 

When you nod, he easily descends upon your lips, placing a sure hand behind your head as he deepens the kiss into something absolutely filthy. As soon as you break apart, he kisses your shoulder, then down your spine.

Tashi guides you back to her. You allow her nails to tangle in your locks as she forces your head back down against her arching hips.

"Shit," Patrick huffs, rough hands reaching for the globes of your ass while Art's smoother ones trail up your spread, inner thighs. Tashi tugs at his dick a little harder, which has him panting against her lips.

Tashi gasps as you flick at her clit then quickly move to tease her entrance with the tip of your tongue. You flatten your tongue, dragging it across her length and repeat the motion until she whines for you to stop. 

You slurp the combination of drool and slick as you pull away with a pussy-drunk smile. She meets it with a panting, dazed one and removes her hand from your hair to push her own out of her eyes while Patrick sucks at her neck.

"Ah!" You startle forward into Tashi's tits as Art finally breeches your entrance with his index finger. 

"Eat our girl out, Art," Tashi motions for Art to lie down under your spread form to get a better angle. You can't deny that the new nickname drives you a little crazy. "Show her she's ours."

Art's soft hands draw another moan out of you as they assuredly grip your hips to keep you in place while he unleashes teasing licks against your pussy.

Tashi draws you back to her. You'd know that look anywhere—she's ready to cum.

"I want you," Her breath hitches around your name while your tongue steals the rest of her coherent words until she's a withering mess under your touch. 

Her pornstar-worthy moans ring out across the room like a beautiful symphony. Tashi's wanton noises coupled with the wet whines you're unleashing against her folds until the two of you create the lewdest duet this hotel's ever heard. 

She arches against the bedframe as she tells you her near release, tugging at your hair as she draws closer and closer to the edge.

Panting, she draws you against her lips for a sloppy, uncoordinated kiss. 

"Fuck, Tashi," You groan against her plump lips, feeling your own impending orgasm drawing near. "You're so fucking hot, I-"

She cuts off your rambling with another wet kiss. Her tongue flicks out to tease yours before sucking it into her mouth with a lewd slurp. Your hand works alongside hers to leave her shaking and whimpering against your lips as she comes undone by your hand. You smack her cunt lightly, eating the groan she feeds into your open mouth as she rides it out.

Tashi eats your moans as they echo against your messy tangling of lips and tongues.

Art's fingers start to pick up a pace as Patrick, feeling left out, starts thrusting his throbbing cock in the middle of your sapphic kiss with Tashi. You eye the two with half-lidded eyes as you share Patrick's cock with her. After only a few moments in your mouth, Patrick pulls out and releases across Tashi's and your expectant tongues.

"So fucking good to me," Patrick pants as he splatters the last of his come across your faces with a shaky groan. "Best fucking orgasm ever, swear it," He says as he encases his lips around yours, swapping his cum between your mouths before moving to Tashi to do the same.

Art moves out from under you, offering your knees relief as he lays you back against Tashi's stomach to fuck into you.

It's a slow and cruel pace, only made crueller by how Patrick and Tashi touch you like they already know where you want to be touched. Each brunette takes a side, Patrick sucking your tit into his mouth while Tashi's mouth draws you in for a kiss. Her nails tickle at your other erect nipples until you're arching off of her and into Art's thrusts, making him whimper.

"Just like that," Art whines your name. "You're so fucking tight."

It's when Patrick and Tashi move their attention down to your clit that you know you're fucked. Patrick spreads your folds with two fingers, watching as intensely as Art does as his cock disappears in and out of your hole.

"He could've never made you feel like this, right?" Tashi rasps. "He has no strategy, no real game. Just a fucking waste of space. Could never make you feel this good, this loved."

You don't need her to say his name, you know what she means. You're panting, shaking your head against her shoulder. "Never."

"Told ya," Patrick laughs into your skin. "Make her cum, Art. C'mon, man." 

"Fuck- please," You whimper, nodding. "I need to come, baby-" Without warning, you arch off of Tashi. Neither she nor Patrick stops their jerks against your clit as you gasp, eyes rolling back in your head with the thrum of a second wave creeping up on you with a steady building heat. Waves of pleasure roll over you as the tantalizing sensations become too much. You come loudly, arching pathetically off the bed as you desperately reach for Art, to hold him.

You're wriggling in Tashi and Patrick's arms as Art pulls out and releases across your expanding and retracting stomach as you pant out the remnants of your orgasm. 

"Shit," He moans, and his voice sends waves of aftershock across your body while his steady hands draw you against his naked chest for a toe-curling kiss.

You'd never been happier to have invited Patrick Zweig to your engagement party.

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[simpjaes]

CUNNILINGUIST ― s.jy (ft. p.sh)

Unfortunately for you, no man has ever given you some good head. Fortunately for you, your best friend is more annoyed by it than you are. It’s just a favor, right? or the one where your best friend jake eats you out as a way to admit his own feelings for you, also, apparently sunghoon existing is an issue.

minors dni! | kindly leave feedback and reblog to give bestie jake conflicting feelings

WORDCOUNT― 16.1 k

PAIRING― jake x afab reader (ft. sunghoon)

CONTENT― a lot of waiting, like to the point it even annoyed me, very fluffy stuff , typical best friends to fuck buddies to “actually, I had feelings this whole time”, jealousy, jake is whiny and needy when he’s horny, reader thinks it’s cute. angst if you’re a baby about it

OTHER CHARACTERS― sunghoon as the mutual friend who bangs reader

NOTE― this was originally written by me on my other blog [@/ncteez], if you’ve read it before, that’s why!

smut tags under cut:: 

smut tags― BIG DICKED BESTIE, pussy eating (he gets IN THERE), masturbation in the form of dry humping a mattress and then into his hand, finger fucking, cum eating, sunghoon hook up, morning sex, lazy fingering, lazy fuck, dirty talk , unprotected sex, awkward build up,raw grinding, no blowjob in sight sorry lmao, deep penetration, cream pie, kind of cum stuffing but like not entirely intentional, cheesy love stuff 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What? Again?” Jake says, leaning back against the couch with a groan and a smack to his own forehead.

“Yeah, so basically he went down on me for less than a minute but expected me to, like, go long enough to ‘swallow’ or whatever.” You continue the story in a frustrated huff, shaking your head in self-pity.

Jake groans louder, leaning himself forward again and swiping his drink from your coffee table to take a long and thoughtful sip. 

“How many times is that, then?” He says between sips, glancing around the room as if he’s in deep thought. “I can’t help but think you pick these kinds of guys on purpose at this point.”

You look at him in mock pain, grabbing his drink and taking your own thoughtful sip of it.

“I dunno, they always talk big game during phone sex and stuff. I figure eventually one of them will live up to it.” You drone on, internally marking your recent date’s name off of your call-back list. 

“Be honest with me, have you ever actually gotten good head? Like how would you know if they’re bad if you have nothing good to compare them to?” Jake asks, letting you mindlessly drink his beverage.

It’s not weird to be having these types of conversations with him, if at all, something would seem off if you didn’t. He’s the only person in your life that you’ve ever felt this close to. At this point, you think he’d have to chase you down with a bloody hatchet for things to be awkward. Which is…kind of interesting, you guess.

“Well, I mean,” You think for a moment too long for his liking, but he gives you the space to finish your answer. “It feels good and all but it’s not like I’ve ever gotten off by it.”

“Correction –” Jake starts, blinking right at you. “You’ve never been given the chance to get off on it.” His bright  smile shows through his words, and you’re sure he’s mocking you at this point.

“Yeah, yeah. Yada, yada. I have terrible taste in sexual partners but to be fair, it’s not like the pool is that big to choose from.”

He nods in agreement, humming as if to end the conversation and still watching you sip at his drink.

“Would you be opposed to–” He pauses, making eye contact with you. “Y’know, I could do it for you.”

You pause, nearly dropping his drink out of your hand but thankfully your grip actually tightens on it instead. You swallow as you look at him, searching his face to see if this is some kind of joke.

“Jae-fucking-yun,” You deadpan, sitting his cup back down on your coffee table and leaning toward him, staring him down. “You’d really do that, for me?”

You bat your eyelashes at him, mostly playing it off as a half-joke just to see if he’s fucking with you or not. 

“How else are you gonna experience it?” 

You stare him down harder.

“You say that like you’re some sort of pussy-eating-god,” You narrow your eyes. “Are you?”

He shrugs casually with his little smile, leaning back on your couch and stretching his arms out. One of his hands lands behind your shoulder and you lean into it. 

“I’d let you be the judge of that if you’re up for it.”

Finally, you decide that he’s definitely not joking and you’re definitely gonna do it because like, that’s your best friend. Experiencing your firsts with him comes almost as naturally as walking. You had your first kiss with him, albeit it was a dare. You experienced your first concert with him, your first break up, your first failed exam, and even your first legal drink in a club. What’s so bad about letting him eat you out?

“Right now?” You ask, quirking your brow and tilting your head.

“Now, tomorrow, next week. Whenever.” He runs his hands through his hair as he says it and only now are you starting to really tune into his features that you’ve already found handsome.

Day after day you’ve seen him on this couch and in other states of dress without really thinking twice about how his lips would feel on you (despite that short first kiss). You’ve seen him kissing all up on other people, you’ve seen him in the club with wet lips from alcohol, you’ve seen him all messy and eating spaghetti at his parent’s house– but for some reason, his lips seem different now. His sleepy eyes seem different, his messy hair seems like something that should be tugged on, his fucking jawline– 

“Why’re you staring at me like that?” He looks at you up and down as if he’s judging. “You wanna go right now?”

You nod slowly, letting the traces of any lusty thoughts you’ve had about him in your life come to the front in waves. Then you quickly shake your head.

“Wait, no,” You roll your eyes more at yourself than him. “I haven’t showered since my date, maybe I should, uh…”

“Uh – yeah. Please do.” He grimaces, that same dopey smile coming back after a moment. 

“Fair.” You roll your eyes. “Gonna go shower then.” 

Part of you wonders if like, he’s being totally legit. For all you know, you’ll get out of the shower and he’ll be too busy doing something else, or like, he’ll go home or something. No hurt in seeing though.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

In the bathroom, you can’t help the feeling in your chest at even the thought that this may be about to happen.

Excitement. That’s what you feel. Not because it’s Jake. Well, maybe a little bit because you wanna see what his tongue is all about but more so because you’re about to get some presumably good head.

You shower thoughtfully, cleaning every part of your body and feeling little goosebumps rise and fall with each sensation of your air conditioning snaking its way past your shower doors. When you get out, you lotion your body so you’re all nice and soft and brush your teeth just in case things go a little further. You’re not expecting it to, but y’know, nothing wrong with having fun if it comes to it. 

After all, he’s doing you a favor by going down on you, the least you can do is smell good, be soft, and totally prepared for if he were to suggest more, right? Right. Anyway, you’re all showered up and opt to just let your hair do its own thing as you throw on your shirt and shorts. You ignore the panties at this point, because why not?

When you get back to the living room, Jake isn’t there. Naturally, you check your bedroom and there he is, still his normal self and lounging against your headboard while flipping through videos on his phone. 

“And she’s back,” he comments, reaching a hand out as if to invite you to your own bed. “Change your mind yet?”

“Not even for a second,” you smile as you take a spot in front of him, your entire body facing him as you pull your knees up and lay your chin against your arms. “Have you?”

He seems to fall into a more serious tone now, locking his phone before tossing it to the side and flicking his eyes up to look at you, scanning your legs in the shorts. 

“No,” he chokes back, shocked to see straight between the gap of your shorts and actually lay eyes on the point of this whole situation for the first time. “And you’re not wearing anything under those shorts.”

You watch his face and the way it turns from your best friend into something you’ve seen time and time again from men you’ve gone home with. It’s sexy on him though, for some reason.

“Figured I’d save you the trouble?”

He smiles, now moving himself toward you and reaching a hand behind to cradle your head. 

“Lay back,” he says softly, in a voice you’ve only heard a few times from him, “you could have left the shorts off too though.” He adds with an even softer laugh.

For some reason, it makes you feel shy. His hand guiding you to lay back all while grabbing the pillow from behind him and placing it under your head so that you’re nice and comfortable.  You watch him look at you and honestly, it’s in a way you can’t remember him ever looking at you before. If this is how he looks at other women, you may be a little jealous. 

It feels more intense right now than you thought it would.

“You’re being weird.” You say offhandedly, looking away from him and trying to keep the heat from flushing to your cheeks. 

“You’re letting me eat you out, how am I being weird?” He leans up from you, putting two hands on your knees but still waiting for your eyes to meet his again. “You want me to act like the other dudes? Dip my tongue in then wrap it up?”

You groan, rolling your eyes back to him and analyzing the way his big hands drape over your knees. 

“Okay, fair.” You admit defeat, feeling his warm palms move down the back of your thighs and to your ass. 

“Lift up,” He says, quickly pulling the shorts off of you when you do as he asks. 

“Oh–” He gasps quietly. “Damn.”

He stares directly between your legs, bracing his hands back at your knees and spreading your legs a bit. He angles his head in different ways to really look at you, seemingly enamored with your pussy as a whole. 

“Look who’s staring now.” You chuckle, instinctively hiding your face from him despite knowing he isn’t looking up at you.

“Yeah– I am,” he admits, now adjusting himself on the bed to lay down, his head easily slotting between your legs as he rests his chin on your lower belly and looks up at you. “You can pull my hair or do whatever, I’m just gonna…like, start I guess. Tell me if it’s something you don’t like.”

As normal as this isn’t, he’s speaking similar to how the two of you had taken on projects before. He typically takes the lead but offers you control more often than not. All you can do is nod at him, trying to comprehend that it’s your best friend’s head between your legs right now.

When he pulls his head back up with one last nod of confirmation, the first thing you feel is his fingers slipping up your folds, the other braced on your thigh and holding your legs open. You release a short sigh of relief at the feeling and he instantly smirks at it. 

“I haven’t even started yet,” He whispers, glancing up at you before fixing his eyes back on the expanse of your pussy. He uses his ring and pointer finger to spread your lips open, and the middle finger to rub against your hole only for a brief moment before he licks his lips and releases his own sigh of relief. “God, Sunghoon would be so jealous right now.”

You look down at him, wanting to ask him what the fuck he’s talking about and why he’d bring up Sunghoon right now, but you find yourself staring at him instead. Breath caught in your throat with the way his eyes meet yours before letting his tongue hang from his mouth as if presenting it to you in a cheeky way.

He’s so fast with it too, with the way he replaces his middle finger with his tensed tongue, forcing you to swallow your words and hold your breath even more. You can feel him lick and nibble against each of your lips before moving inward, flattening his tongue to lick one long, languid, and wet stripe up until meeting your clit. 

He wraps his lips around it, sucking once, hard, before releasing it and pulling back to look at you.

“This okay?”

Goddamn him for making you have to talk right now. You’re still trying to comprehend the fact that he said Sunghoon, fucking Sunghoon of all people would be jealous that he’s doing this right now. That’s definitely a question for later, because yeah, it’s fucking okay. 

More than okay. 

You nod to him, throwing your arm over your eyes and instinctively bucking your hips up towards his hovering mouth. 

“Oh, that was hot,” He groans out his compliment, watching the way you hide your face before he pulls his eyes back down and uses his fingers to spread your pussy open wider, enough to see your hole pulsate when he dips down to blow against it, “I can see how wet you’re getting, Is it because of me or is it just because someone is playing with your pussy?”

You half groan half moan at that, mostly because hearing these words from him is something that feels entirely too sexual. As if he hasn’t already tasted you, as if you’re not spread out by his fingers right now. You ignore his words, yet, your brain holds onto them with white knuckles and your hips buck toward him again.

“Not a talker, got it.” He notes, watching your hips chase his breath. 

He watches for much longer than you’d like for him to, and you’re about to lift up and accuse him of being just like the other guys but he shuts your thoughts off so fucking fast when you feel his lips on you again. 

His tongue explores every part of you, licking and sucking against areas you didn’t even know would feel good until his mouth lands against your clit again. This time, you can’t help it, you grind up and he hums at it as he braces your legs open just enough to skew his head and move his tongue back down. 

He’s slurping. Lost in the moment as he does it. Tasting you in full and getting a warm, pleasant feeling each time your legs try to close and your hips buck up for more. He…can’t believe this is finally happening. Fucking finally.

Unsure if you’d let him, he tries anyway. He stiffens his tongue, circling your hole before pressing just a bit, giving you just enough pressure that you feel frustrated. So frustrated that you’re the one who ends up finishing his attempt at something new. You reach down and lace your fingers in his hair, and let out a soft, needy little moan for him. 

That sound forces one from his chest too, he can’t help it, really. With the way you’re grabbing his hair and holding his head in place, pressing yourself against his mouth so much harder than before. Ah, he really, really loves doing this for you. 

To think any man would already be done? To think anyone could like, not wanna eat you out? Insanity. Stupid, stupid fucking men.

He can taste how wet you are now, truly taste it as he stretches your hole as much as he can with his tongue and another groan of his own. It’s probably embarrassing, truly, but he doesn’t care. 

Both of you are moaning at this point as you hold his head in place and grind your hips harder than you think you are. He loves it, you love it. So much that you really are barely comprehending that your best friend could do this the whole time?! And never told you until now?!

Jake is just as drunk on the moment as you are though. Totally lost in the scent and taste of you as he continues to lap away, constantly trying to prove that you can and will get off from his mouth alone. And honestly? It’s at the point that he figures he can use his fingers now too considering you let him spread you open with his tongue. What’s a little more gonna hurt, anyway?

The taste of you alone has him in heaven, cursing any man who didn’t take advantage of your pussy against their mouth. He can easily slip a finger into a hole this wet and needy, gasping in awe before glancing up at you. 

God, the way you immediately ride his finger, no huff or sound of irritation that he’s pulled his tongue back now. Your face. Fuck. 

He watches as you shamelessly chase the small amount of pleasure he can offer in terms of just head and fingering. He can imagine how hot you’d be without that shirt on, with your legs around his hips, with your mouth wrapped around him. You look blissed out, soaking his finger and keeping your hand in his hair, mindlessly grabbing and scratching at him. 

Making quick work, he goes back for your clit, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves and noticing how you ride his finger harder. He can’t help but smirk against you when you do it either. 

The movement of your hips constantly humping against him is enough, and he can’t help but groan at the sound of your slick squelching out of you and warming his chin, he can’t fucking help but grind his own hips forward when you act like this. His cock is so painfully hard for you right now, at the taste of you, that all he can do is chase the mattress beneath him. Tensing his muscles and moaning against your clit shamelessly at the jolts of pleasure he gets from it. 

He slips another finger in with ease, feeling how much wetter you’ve gotten in the way the slide is filthy and audible. You groan out at that too, feeling his tongue flick relentlessly against your clit and only now moving your free hand from your face and trailing to your stomach. 

You can’t even talk, so you don’t. You lift your shirt up until you can at least rub against your nipples, just to heighten the pleasure your best friend is so graciously giving you.

His eyes roll back when you do that, only to fall back on you and get a frustrated grunt from him. He’s a bit annoyed that the shirt is still covering you despite your hand under it, fondling yourself. He’s thinking with his cock, so fucking aroused that he doesn’t think twice when he aggressively lifts your shirt up to your chin and watches the way your fingers poke and prod at yourself.

He inhales a sharp breath at the image, and his hips fuck harder against the mattress at that. His fingers speed up and now he’s focused. You feel him all over you from the waist down, his tongue flicking and lips sucking against your swollen clit, his fingers relentlessly fucking into you, your fingers heightening those sensations by playing with your own tits– then, oh, then you notice. 

Jake, you’re best fucking friend, is so goddamn horny that he’s dry humping against your bed and whining out moans against your clit. Probably to avoid asking for more, to avoid making you feel obligated to get him off too, to avoid anything you may not want or consent to. And that’s why he’s your best friend.

It doesn’t take long after that, your hips come to a stop as you watch him get himself off all while getting you off, and you find your orgasm bubbling up much faster than if you’d have imagined solely because of the image in front of you.

“Jake, you’re fucking whining.” You groan almost as needy as he does, rolling your hips up in a stutter. 

He was almost gonna stop, because yeah, he is whining. Gasping for air but only tasting you, only swallowing up the moans you give to him, only inhaling the dull scent of the fruity soap you used when you showered. But, you moan louder after you say that. You like it. You like seeing him act so desperate. So he continues, shamefully reaching one of his hands between himself and the bed and quickly shoving it down his pants, circling around his cock and continuing to fuck into it. 

If he thinks hard enough, you’re what he’s fucking right now, and technically, he is. With his fingers and mouth at least. When your hips stutter more, he fucks harder against his hand and holds his fingers inside of you as deep as he can get them. There, he sucks against your clit until you’re the one whining louder. 

You’re shocked at how quickly you’re getting off. Releasing a splash against him in a breathy, choked up sob. Nearly squeezing his head between your thighs to the point he almost misses the way you breathe out strings of praises toward him. But he hears them. 

He definitely heard you say that he looks sexy with your hand in his hair, and god, did he ride off of the fact that you encouraged him to get off with you. Regardless of if you knew if he could or not, regardless of if you knew his hand was providing just enough pleasure for him to do just that. 

There, as your orgasm subsides with his tongue still flicking your sensitive clit, you watch him writhe his hips against your mattress, his eyes slammed shut, and his breath coming out in pornographic moans. So this is what Jake looks like when he cums. It’s desperate, but somehow, it feels passionate too.

You’re all dazed after the fact, pussy pulsing and tingling from the loss of his lips and fingers once he pulls back and lays against your bed with a lazy smile. His pants are uncomfortable, but he doesn’t mind as he wipes his hand across his shirt and watches the way you catch your breath. 

“So,” He tries to say, clearing his throat. “I– um– hope that’s what you needed?”

You’re shy. You’re never fucking shy, especially towards Jake, but god. 

“Um, yeah,” you sigh out, lifting from the bed and looking back at him. Part of you wondering if that’s what it’s supposed to be like when someone gives you good head, or if that’s just…what it’s like when Jake gives head.

For some reason, you genuinely don’t think another man would ever eat you out to that level again. There’s no way, based on experience. 

“It was definitely what I needed.” 

He nods in a shy way, reminding himself that his pants are fucking nasty right now. So, he goes to stand up and extends a hand out to you. 

“Let’s go clean up.” 

You shake your head, not at all wanting to move from this bed. He nods again, pulling your shirt back down for you and leaning to look at you. 

“I’m gonna bring you something to clean up with, and I’m gonna shower.”

You smile at him, a bit dazed as you make yourself comfortable on your messy sheets as you think hard about the fact that this dopey motherfucker really never told you how good he was at this? Rude.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Jake looks all proud of himself when he comes back to your room and cuddles into bed with you much like he always has. 

“I didn’t expect to sleep over, I have work in the morning.” He whispers in a rasp against your back, curling around you like the perfect big spoon. 

You’re quick to turn on his work alarm on your phone, like you always do when he crashes during weeknights. Because, what best friend doesn’t have alarms set for each other anyway?

After a few more long moments of silence, you try to talk. Mostly because your brain is swimming with the fact that, like, you’re not sure but it’s just– wow. 

“Hey, um–”

“Hmm?” He hums out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” His sudden louder voice causes you to jump, but you relax back into his gasp. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” He responds with mock-confidence, shifting a bit and hugging you closer to him, as if to hide the way he’s trying to make this sound like a joke. For his own comfort, really.

You smile.

“And don’t tell other dudes my secrets.” He adds.

“I won't.”

Jake has his own smile from behind you, wondering if he really is just that good at eating pussy. The truth is, he’s done it a handful of times but he was just really really interested in doing it for you. For…reasons.

・・・・・・THIS WAS ORIGINALLY TWO PARTS, NOW IT’S ONE. YOU’RE WELCOME・・・・・・

“Hey, um,”

“Hmm?” Jake hummed out in a sleep-heavy voice.

“Did you actually enjoy doing that for me?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I literally came in my pants.” He responded in a sudden, louder voice. 

“Oh,” You think hard. “Is this gonna change stuff between us?”

“Probably, but not in like, a bad way. More like in the can-i-eat-you-out-all-the-time-way.” 

You remember the conversation that happened after he went down on you like it was yesterday, and he’s a goddamn liar. Nothing changed in your friendship with him, and he certainly doesn’t ask to eat you out all the time either. If anything, you’ve felt disappointed time and time again with the aftermath of that night.

It’s weighing on you in a strange way. At first, the weeks following the first and apparently, only time Jake went down on you, you almost expected him to ask for a repeat. You wanted to return the favor. You wanted him to ask but he never did. Even when he came over to hang out, even when you tried to lay down hints.

Nothing changed.

In fact, he doesn’t even talk about it. He doesn’t look at you as if he’s tasted you, and he doesn’t act like he came in his palm against your bed, right in front of you. He’s just…Jake. Sweet, caring, aloof, Jake. And you’re just you. Except you want to be someone else at this point. Someone that he does feel differently around after that.

Maybe you weren’t a memorable event for him when it comes to intimacy. Maybe he prefers to pretend it never happened? Maybe he was really just doing you a favor and intending for it to never go past the initial act. Even with his sweet words after the fact. Maybe, that was just to reassure you so it wouldn’t be awkward. 

You’re a version of you who wants to know what the fuck he’s thinking about. Did it taste bad? Did he get cold feet about it all? Arguably, if things did get weird after what happened, you’d feel more comfortable than you do with the situation as it stands. 

It is weird now, but only because it’s not weird for him. 

Even now, as you lay across the same bed where he had his head nestled between your legs, you can almost feel the tingle of what it felt like. The way his hair tickled your thighs, and the way his fingers laid against the flesh of your legs. The sun is beaming in through your windows and it still doesn’t feel as warm as it did when he cuddled against you that night. It’s been weeks and your heart is sick for him by this point. Sick with confusion, angst, lust, maybe even love if you think hard enough. 

You miss him a lot more than before as you throw your hand up to your face in a gentle slap as if to knock yourself out of it. This is insane. Every day you wake up feeling this way, thinking of him, and where you stand with him. It wasn’t like this at first, you truly expected him to come back for more and now you’re just sitting here with a loop of reasons as to why he never did. 

Insane. You’ve gotten head from so many people and didn’t think twice about them the next day, Jake is different though. You knew he would be too.

Why is Jake any different? Why do you miss him so badly right now? Why couldn’t he pick up on it either? Even worse, why do you feel like doing that with him was a mistake?

He’s with his parents for the weekend, and you’re here still thinking about shit that should have been released with your orgasm. 

You haven’t gone on any dates since that day, you haven’t met up with any one other than him to hang out, and at this point you’re starting to feel a little pathetic for falling in so deep. It’s entirely one sided, he makes that very clear.

So, naturally, you hop up with the confidence of a damn lion and decide that today, it ends. You will stop making it weird between the two of you, if he has even noticed anyway. You’re gonna get dressed, look hot as fuck, and sit on your couch swiping left and right until you find a hot piece of man that’s willing to take you out tonight.

That’s when something dawns on you. You remember Jake briefly mentioning Sunghoon to you, which seemed more like an implication if anything at the time. 

Why would Sunghoon be jealous of what happened? You can admit to being attracted to him but it’s not like the two of you hang out often or anything, and it’s also kind of a rule for yourself that you don’t fuck within the friendgroup. Jake was an exception, solely because that’s your best friend. Or, well, was your best friend. 

Now though? Who cares about these little rules you create for yourself? You need a confidence boost. You need your mind to be taken off of this little spiral you keep falling into. Most of all, you need to be proven wrong that you can still get off without it being him. 

So, texting Sunghoon? Easy. 

Thankfully, Sunghoon texting you back at lightning speed seemed even easier for him. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Well, Sunghoon sure did a great job at getting your mind off of Jake for the past couple of hours. 

You lay here in his bed, feeling your body tingle from the sensation of just how well he lived up to the promise of a good time. For hours he touched you, licked against you, fucked you. And yeah, you did fucking enjoy it. 

But why now? Why did you only just decide to give Sunghoon a shot? Why are you lying in his bed, with his heavy arms thrown across you as he snores gently behind you, feeling the need to cry? Why do you wish it was Jake, your best friend who seemed so eager to please and then suddenly leaped ten feet back as if he never suggested it in the first place? 

Your brain is confused despite your body relaxing itself from the state of bliss you were able to experience. You really did enjoy this time with Sunghoon and think that maybe, if you continue to make late night visits to him, the need for your best friend will weaken in time. 

God, if only Jake would just talk about it.

And you fall asleep thinking about that. About how you’ve let your feelings weaken you to the point that it’s genuinely hard to enjoy being pleasured by someone who actually has the capability. 

And, well, you wake up much the same, except Sunghoon was quite quick with his fingers upon waking up himself. Showing you that even if the person you want doesn’t have a thing to do with you, he sure does. 

“Good morning,” He rasps in a sleepy voice, fingers already traveling down your stomach as he hugs up against you from behind. “Glad you finally came through for me.” 

You quirk a brow. Right, Jake is the whole reason you're here. If not for mentioning him, at least.

“I finally came through?” You chuckle, your body jolting at the ticklish sensation of his lips brushing the back of your neck. “You knew I was single, why didn’t you call me?” 

You feel a harsher kiss against your neck, and his fingers only travel further down now. 

“Bro code.” He whispers, dipping his fingers between your still naked thighs. “I’m not overstepping if you’re the one asking for it.” He slides his fingers gently back and forth between your legs, trying to work you up. “And you did.” 

You think hard about that. Bro code, overstepping limits, not coming onto someone unless they do first solely because someone must have asked him not to. And you’d think even harder about who that someone might be, but instead your brain is quickly thrown into the morning sex routine Sunghoon must offer to all of his lovers. 

You enjoy it too, the small moments of bliss where you’re not in your head about what you could have possibly done wrong with Jake for you to end up feeling this way. It’s a brief moment of numbness though, feeling his fingers pleasure you gently can only do so much to quiet your thoughts. 

“Are you saying one of your friends had dibs on me or something?” You laugh in a half-joke, arching your back to rub your ass up and against the bigger and warmer man behind you. 

“You could say that, I’m assuming he missed his chance though–” Sunghoon whispers snidely, now satisfied with how you already drip for him and sliding one of his fingers into you. His other hand, being used to hike one of your legs up and against his hip to open you up for him. “You wouldn’t be here doing this if he didn’t.” 

You clench around his finger unintentionally, pretending you don’t know who you’re both referring to. Mostly because there’s no way in hell it’s your best friend, seeing as how he’s acting like you don’t exist outside of platonic friendship with him. Then again, who else could it be? Jay? Heeseung? Fucking Jungwon? As fucking if. 

“I guess he did miss his chance–” You breathe, now allowing yourself to give into the lazy and slow pleasure being offered. “Deeper.” 

And he listens. Sunghoon goes deeper and deeper with one finger, then two, then three, up until you slip his fingers out of you and plead through your body to have more. Deeper still, holding you from behind, plunging in as if to intentionally fuck the confusion out of you. As if to, maybe, prove that Jake isn’t the only man who can please you now. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

When you eventually find yourself walking through your front door, you do feel better. Sunghoon did have some type of capability to make you feel as desired as Jake did. After all, it’s not often that you sleep over with a man, better yet get fucked again as soon as you wake up with him. 

Even so, you know Jake will be back tomorrow, wanting to hang out yet again as if nothing happened. Thankfully, with Sunghoon around, maybe you can pretend alongside him. Maybe even forget it ever happened. 

You can argue that for the first time, you’re even a bit annoyed when you see his name pop up in your notifications with a call as if you’re not right in the middle of texting Sunghoon. It’s not that you were trying to go back over to his house or anything, but man, he sure is trying to get you to come back for a third round already. 

Maybe you just like when people are eager to please you, or maybe you don’t like to feel as if you’re the one chasing another person. Still, you answer Jake, seemingly releasing all of this resentment you’ve built up for him in an instant. 

“What?” You huff into the phone, feeling it vibrate with another text from Sunghoon and wanting nothing more than to see what his fourth reason would be for you to come over not even two hours after you left. 

“What?” Jake responds in confusion  to you. “What do you mean ‘what’?” 

“I mean what do you want? I’m busy.” You huff again with a roll of your eyes, flopping back on your bed. 

“Oh god, something happened.” Jake groans, though he was simply calling you because he missed your voice. “What’s wrong?” 

“No, not really. Was just trying to figure out what I’m doing tonight when you rudely interrupted me.” 

Something is off, Jake can feel it. Your voice has a bite to it, one that feels like you’re mad at him. Not to mention, he knows what you mean when you say you’re trying to find something to do for the night. He tries to reserve his feelings though, despite wanting that something to be him. 

“Oh, I know there’s an event at one of the clubs downtown tonight I think. Jay mentioned it–” He pauses briefly to hear another annoyed breath from you. “You’re not gonna go with him?” 

“Nah,” You wave off dismissively. “I think I’m just gonna go hang out with Sunghoon.” 

You don’t notice at all the brief and panicked silence for a solid second and a half before Jake reacts.

“Wait, what?” He says quickly after managing to process those words, trying not to sound as panicked as he knows he feels. “Sunghoon? Why?!” 

God, he knew he shouldn’t have said anything about Sunghoon that day, but his confidence was overflowing and he couldn’t help but boast at the time. It’s come back to shoot him in the dick, knowing full well that Sunghoon has been trying to get you into bed since he fucking met you. Hearing you ask for him in this context is something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Relax, I was with him last night. It’s kind of like, maybe gonna be a normal thing now.” 

You refuse to pick up on Jake’s tone. He had all the time in the world to make you feel something other than confusion, and this is just fucking petty at this point. He clearly doesn’t want to have anything with you, so why in the hell should you just sit around hoping? Waiting? 

“Sunghoon? You want to fuck Sunghoon?” He asks in a lower tone, trying to convince himself that he has to be mishearing you. You can hear him shuffle around and close a door behind him, showing that he doesn’t want his parents to hear him. But the frustration showing blatantly in his voice is somehow…satisfying. 

“I already did. I figured he would show me a good time since no one else can, and he did.” You shrug with slight disobedience. Resentment bubbling up in your gut to the extent that you almost want to grill him for having any type of opinion about it. 

Jake hangs on those words for a second. “Since no one else can.” 

He really thought he was the one who could do it for you. 

“Yeah, but–”  Jake starts, feeling like a child almost in the way he protests despite not being in a position to have a say in who you sleep with. “You know what? Nevermind. Do what you want.” He adds blankly, hanging up before you can get another word in. 

Honestly, he doesn’t know what he’s doing wrong because you acted like he was fully capable of doing everything right. Hanging out with him consistently after the fact, not making it weird, flirting with him, asking him to sleep over. 

He wasn’t sure if he should ask you for more or if he should ask you to be his girlfriend first. The whole reason he’s with his parents right now is because he felt the need to run home to his Mom for girl advice. Embarrassing? Yes, but he really wanted to do things right. He cares about you. 

He needed just one single weekend away, and the second he’s gone you’re out fucking other dudes? Fucking Sunghoon? 

By now, that asshole is probably feeling like he’s on top of the world for getting to touch you. Not even he has done what Sunghoon managed to do with you by now and he can’t help but feel pissed about it. 

Whether you’re his or not, Sunghoon never should have been a fucking option. 

So, he calls you right back, pushing back the feeling of how pathetic it seems considering he’s the one who hung up on you. Then, when you don’t pick up, he immediately feels his stomach drop. 

You must be talking to Sunghoon, you must be setting up a time and place to meet with him. And Jake has heard that Sunghoon knows how to fuck. Other people have said he’s good in bed. Surely, if you’ve already been with him once and you’re still wanting to go back to him, those other people weren’t lying. 

To Jake, it feels like he’s losing you to his own friend with each passing second, and it’s weighing so heavy that spamming your phone with calls to interrupt whatever it is you’re doing right now feels like the right thing to do. In fact, it feels like it is the best thing in the world to do. 

He calls again. You don’t answer.

Again.

“What?!” You answer, annoyed. 

“Why would you even want Sunghoon?! Is he really that much better than I am?” He doesn’t think before he says it, because if he did, he wouldn’t have been able to say it at all. 

It’s his turn to experience that awkward silence because in all fairness, you don’t know how to respond to that. You feel annoyed now, you feel confused and quite frankly, blind sided. Since when did he care? 

“What’s that supposed to mean? You came onto me once and then never followed up.” You dead-pan at yourself in the mirror across your bedroom, speaking into the phone with a voice that seems scolding. “I don’t see why you’re mad that I’m hanging out with Sunghoon. We aren’t dating, Jake.”

“Since when? Who said I didn’t want to do it again?” Jake argues back in a whispered voice, showing you that he still can’t be as loud as he’d like to be. He chooses to ignore that last sentence though, pretending as if it doesn’t strike him in the center of the heart. 

“Nobody! That’s the thing, you haven’t said anything about it. Not that you want to, not that you don’t. You’re just being you and it’s driving me up a fucking wall.”

Pause.

“You’re mad because I didn’t make it weird?” It’s like his brain clicks. 

“Pretending it didn’t happen somehow makes it worse.” You lower your voice, ignoring the string of texts Sunghoon is sending you and listening closely to what Jake might say next. Your heart is racing through this hushed argument, and it feels good to admit that you kept thinking about it, even if he hasn’t.

“I wasn’t pretending that it didn’t happen,” He pinches the bridge of his nose with a sigh. “I just wasn't sure what the next step was.”

You’re fucking appalled.

“Jake, I have been flirting with you since it happened because I couldn’t stop thinking about it. You’re the one who didn’t make any moves, so I figured you wanted it to end there.” You sigh loudly, but somehow feel a bit lighter. “Do you have any idea how that fucked with my confidence?”

Jake sighs along with you on the other end of the line. 

“That’s why I was annoyed earlier, and that’s why I’m going to Sunghoon’s tonight.”

“What?” Jake’s voice raises a bit higher. “Still?!” 

It’s the fact that he’s trying to explain himself. Had he known that you were confused by his lack of, um, touching you, he would have done it every day since it happened! Yet, you’re still considering Sunghoon an option? Knife to the heart, honestly. 

Or maybe he’s not being clear enough with you about this. 

You, on the other hand, nod your head as you hum a confirmation to him, smiling and wondering if this conversation will turn into an event that would, perhaps, have you cancel the hook-up with Sunghoon.

“Why? Are you jealous?” You pry.

“You really called him, and now I’m just sitting here in my old room trying to find a way to get to you before he does….again.” An inhale. “ Yes! I’m fucking jealous!” 

You remain silent, trying to pretend that your pettiness isn’t solely to confirm what he seems to be implying to you. Then, an unintentional chuckle leaves your lips. 

“Why are you laughing?!” His voice is raised again, and he doesn’t seem to stop spilling what he needs to say. “I wanted to do that for you for years and you somehow still didn’t know?” He pauses. “I always made it weird between us, what? You thought I treated all of my friends like that?”

You just listen, feeling your heart beat in time with each word he speaks. Strings of sentences like, “I’m going to kick his ass.” and “You thought I’d just eat you out as a friend?! You’re insane.” and “I would have come home last night if you wanted to feel good so badly, why did you have to go see him, of all people?” 

The confirmation of Jake being the friend who forbade Sunghoon from making a move on you is right there, clear as day. 

“Ah, so the Jake I know isn’t the Jake everyone else knows?” You respond, trying to force the tingling feeling in your gut to calm itself. Hearing him be so blatant to you has your heart doing flips, and it’s not an easy task to make it stop.

“Of-fucking-course not!” He rolls his eyes, you can definitely tell. “You had me wrapped around your pinky from day one.”

“And you really thought that, with the way you seemed so uninterested–” You pause, processing his words. “I would have asked you to come home from your parent’s house to get me off? For what? Funsies? You thought I'd be brave enough or selfish enough to ask such a thing?” 

Jake sighs deeply, seemingly fed up with the situation. 

“It wouldn’t be because you are selfish.” He breathes out, almost angrily. “And for the last time, I’m not uninterested. I was just trying to do things right. I don’t just want to fuck you, you know.” 

“And you didn’t think to tell me until weeks after you ate me out?” You smile harder, trying to contain the heat flushing over your cheeks. “Until after I thought I had a pH imbalance and maybe you were just grossed out by me?!” 

“I’m genuinely shocked you didn’t know already. Made me think you weren’t interested enough to like–” He pauses, not wanting to be too telling. “I guess waiting and being polite isn’t really your style. I should have known that though.”

You let him continue, because you can tell he’s simply taking breaths and small pauses to figure out how to express his thoughts to you. 

“You can’t tell me that over the years, you never once noticed how often I stared at you.” He lowers his voice again, softening it to an extent that you actually feel the butterflies fly from your belly to your chest. 

”The fact that I jumped in head first and offered to do that for you? I didn’t think I had to tell you at this point…”He breathes out a chuckle through the line this time. “And for the record, I couldn’t get enough of it. I was just trying to like– I don’t know.”

You listen to him breathe deeply, again. 

“I didn’t want you to think I was in it just for the sex, I guess.”

There. There it is. You’re nearly kicking your feet, feeling him confirm feelings and erase any hint of doubt within you. Despite never truly noticing that he treats you differently compared to his other friends, despite never thinking too hard about the way he looks at you. 

“You acted like it wasn’t a big deal, Jake. I’m not joking. If that’s how you act when you like someone, you shouldn’t blame me for not noticing.”

“I literally tongue fucked you.” He dead-pans. “Friends don’t just do that.”

“I thought we were friends who could do that.” You argue. “But I guess you’re not quite looking to just remain friends, are you?” 

“No,” Jake sighs. “Mom told me I needed to take you out on some extravagant date and express my undying love for you with a handful of red roses, but I guess this is just how it’s gonna be. After all, this is you.” 

“And this is you.” You confirm. 

“I was going to come home tomorrow and try to lie our way to the restaurant, which I still can, if you want. You kind of fucked up my plan though.” 

You pause at his words, suddenly feeling like shit for not realizing sooner. In your defense though, if he really did like you from day one, you didn’t exactly have a chance to see how he would have acted without feelings. The Jake you know is your best friend, and someone you trusted with everything, you thought he treated everyone as well as he treated you. That’s why, when he didn’t change, you couldn’t read him anymore. 

Then again, all of this could have been fucking avoided if he had just voiced it to you. 

“Romance is dead and it’s your fault.” Jake tries to joke, his soft tone somehow coming out even softer as he waits for some type of response from you. 

“So, are we done fighting?” You ask meekly, tapping your finger against your phone and looking up at the ceiling with a smile that by now, you can’t escape. “Since you’ve just expressed your undying love for me and I very much wouldn’t mind going on a date with you so we can work this out face to face?” 

“Are you still going to fuck Sunghoon?” 

You laugh. 

“Oh yeah, for sure–” To his silence, you immediately take it back. “Oh my god, relax. It’s a joke.” 

“Get better jokes, asshole.” 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

“What the fuck?” Jake deadpans into the phone, his heart beating far too fast for his health, but vibing with it anyway because by tomorrow night, he’ll be next to you again. “You seriously had sex with her?!” 

“Hey, she’s the one who called me.” Sunghoon shrugs as he listens. “To be fair, Jake, I did tell her that someone else had dibs on her.”

Jake slaps his forehead and rolls his eyes. 

“You’re such a dick– I told you at least three hundred times that I like her! I don’t have dibs.” He gripes, trying to pretend that he’s not imagining Sunghoon with you, the person he wants the most. 

“Damn right you don’t, because she seemed to have a great t–” 

“Sunghoon, stop. I don’t want to know what happened, but like, stop texting her.” 

Sunghoon’s brow raises in curiosity. 

“Ah, did you finally make a move?”

If there’s anything Jake knows Sunghoon won’t do, it’s go for a woman that is actually unavailable. He has his fun, and he’s not one to turn anyone down if he has an interest in them, bro code be damned. And yeah, he’s still a little pissed at him for hooking up with you…but, it is true, Jake made you feel like he wasn’t even an option in his attempts to be a gentleman. 

Still, boundaries need to be set now. Real boundaries.

“I did, and I would really appreciate it if you back off. I’m trying to make something out of this, you know?”

Sunghoon lightens up, sighing at his loss of a would be fuck-buddy that seemed more promising than some he’s had in the past. 

“Jesus, you’re serious about her aren’t you?” He smirks as he speaks, feeling proud of Jake for finally stepping up for himself. “I mean, I can totally see why. Please excuse me as I mourn that sweet, sweet, pu-” 

“Sunghoon.” Jake warns. “Shut the fuck up.” 

“Relax, jesus.” Sunghoon plays it cool, though he actually is mourning it a little bit. “Good on you though. I’ll back off, don’t worry.” 

Jake rolls his eyes yet again, his love-hate relationship with Sunghoon becoming more fond than ever by this point. Only because the confidence he had in himself before all of this wasn’t entirely where it needed to be. It’s true that he wasn’t exactly a pussy eating god before, nor could he even say he’s amazing at sex but, when it comes to you, he can’t help but be excited. He wants to do it all, be it all for you. 

Never in his life has he eaten pussy like that, and never in your life have you felt a mouth so eager to please between your legs. 

Sunghoon could have been something, but he couldn’t have been Jake, ever. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The day couldn’t go by any slower than it already has. 

Jake comes home tonight, and by home, you mean to your apartment where he doesn’t live. 

Your mind goes in loops on what could possibly happen. Scenarios of him getting cold feet and ignoring that any of this happened at all again. Scenes of him unlocking your door, closing in on you, and kissing you before you can even say “hello”. Images of his hands on you, his mouth on you, what it would feel like if he were to…well, oh.

You snap yourself out of it, every bad scenario in your head gets replaced with one where you’ve got Jake working himself on and inside of you. It’s making you feel hot, insane, and entirely too horny for the proposed date night full of talking that needs to be had first. 

Then you freeze, your hand on the handle of your mug as you wonder a bit too hard. 

What if he doesn’t show up at all? 

You did run off the second he left the city and fuck one of your mutual friends. Arguably, you were equally as bad at communicating with him as he was to you during the past few weeks. Sure, you flirted, but was that even enough when he literally put his tongue inside of you “as a friend”? 

God, he’d have every right to not show up. To move on, to never speak to you again. 

You’ve been so stupid. Both of you have, stumbling together but apart into something neither of you could even begin to navigate. For you? Sex is easy. Feelings though? That’s where it gets complicated. Yet, still, you find yourself more willing than ever to let these feelings roam free if he accepts them at face value. 

Solely because of how shitty it felt when you were trying to pretend that Jake was nothing but a one time thing for his sake. 

And when the time comes, after hours of brooding, getting worked up, and feeling insane, you’re looking like a mess when he knocks on your door. So much for looking good for him. You’re an absolute fucking wreck when you open that door and dead-pan stare at him and his bags. 

“Hi,” He smiles, not quite making eye contact because he really is kind of embarrassed by all of this. “I’m here.” 

You step back from the door, eyes remaining on him. 

“You’re here.” You say quietly, watching him step into your apartment and drop his bags. 

You feel his breath before you hear his voice. So much closer than just moments before, right up against your ear, and his arms wrapping tightly around you. 

“Felt like I was gone for too long–” He whines slightly against you, breathing in a breath and taking in your scent. “Didn’t know I could miss you like that.” 

You fucking melt. Out of all of those scenarios and fantasies in your head, this wasn’t one of them. Which goes to show that Jake is the one person in this world who can surprise you time and time again. You’ve hugged him like this hundreds of times, but this one, oh this one. He feels so close after feeling so fucking far away.

“You were gone for two days,” You smile, nuzzling against him and gripping his waist in your own hug. 

“Two days too long, though.” You feel him smile, that little upturn of his lips pushing his cheek up and against you as he chuckles and pulls back.  “We don’t have a lot of time, but we can still make it to the restaurant if you still want to go? I can shower when we get back.”

You pull back, offering him a small nod and feeling a bit let down. You wanted more, especially after that hug. The fact that he can contain himself right now feels isolating. Are you the only one who has a vibrating brain right now? He really wants to have the conversation at the restaurant? 

He really wants to do this the right way?

You look like shit, but arguably he might think he looks worse considering the long trip back to you. Still, the restaurant is the chosen option to have this conversation, and you’re ready to get it over with so that finally the two of you can take a step forward. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

The restaurant is nice. There’s a buzz of conversations surrounding the two of you but most of it feels muffled because the only sound you can truly hear is Jake’s hushed and awkward attempts to get the ball rolling. 

“So, I guess that’s why I went to my parent’s house. It’s embarrassing, I know–” He says before you cut him off. 

“Tell me how you felt the past few weeks when we were together.” You say boldly, wanting so badly to have the confirmation that he really does want this, and that he suffered much like you did.

You watch a fan of rosy tint cross his cheeks as he breaks eye contact with you, looking to the table and then back up at you. 

“Okay, um–” He stiffens a bit, glancing around to make sure no one is looking or listening in. “When we weren’t together, it was a lot easier for me to think, but when we were together, I could only really think about one thing.” He admits, nodding to himself. 

You look at him curiously before you see his eyes light up in panic.

“No! No, no. Not like, sex…” He looks down. “I mean, yeah maybe sex too but mostly I just couldn’t stop thinking about ways to make you want me more than anyone else.” 

Your heart swells at his panicked save, and then the words that follow. 

“I think I already did want you more than anyone else.” You admit back to him. “Even if I didn’t know I had feelings until you did that to me– I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

He smiles, reaching over the table as if to ask for your hand. 

“What about you? What did you think about when we were together after that night?” He asks for his own confirmation now. 

“Sex. Mostly, I guess. I felt like no one else would ever be able to make me feel that good again.” You look away, feeling ashamed and seen. “Goddamn, I sound so dramatic.”

Jake snorts, laughing at how he should have expected this but the confidence boost is a happy surprise to him. 

“To be fair though, Jake, I think I had my feelings and my lust for you mixed up.” You continue. “But that doesn’t change the fact that I still feel both of those things every time I see you, or even think of you.”

“Feelings and lust?” He nods with a smile and wiggling his eyebrows, his eyes glistening in the warm lighting of the restaurant. 

You nod in confirmation, side eyeing the waitress who walks over to take down your order. 

Both of you are somehow dissociated outside of each other, there’s no way you’re not because you don’t recall what you ordered, nor what he ordered, and he appears to be feeling much the same. The moment she walks away, he’s continuing. 

“I was really that good, huh?” A smirk from him, and a nod from you. 

“What about right now then? How do you feel when you look at me?” He follows up, looking down at the table. 

“Both of those things.” You dead-pan, squeezing your legs together as you look at him and feel the warmth radiating from even this far away. The confirmation of feelings is enough by itself to have your thoughts in the gutter about him, especially after weeks of wanting him. 

Especially after having to be in this stupid fucking restaurant in the first place.

He quirks a brow before lowering his voice, his eyes drooping a bit. 

“Do you have any fucking idea how badly I’ve wanted to get my mouth on you?” 

God, there he is. That same bold best friend who originally suggested eating you out in the first place. Not entirely unfounded that he said it, but fuck, your cheeks are searing. 

“Jake, we’re in public.” You warn, knowing damn well that you’ve not been able to think of anything else either, but for the sake of the foundation of this relationship, you want to tame yourself a little bit.

“Since we started hanging out, every fucking time.” He continues, ignoring your warning. “I would get so mad when you’d go to your little hook-ups. Sometimes I even wondered if you did it intentionally to piss me off.” 

Your cheeks are still hot, but now there’s a bit of guilt filling you. 

“You really had no idea how badly I wanted that to be me?” He continues with his streak of confidence, unintentionally dirty talking to you solely because he, genuinely, cannot deny his attraction or his feelings for you by this point. “Even right now, I want nothing more than to have you to myself.”

You pause, the guilt leaving you in an instant as it’s fully replaced with Jake’s eagerness to have you in full, finally. 

“Why–” You sigh, dropping your head into your hands to hide your face from him. “Why are we at this restaurant again?” 

You feel his hand reach back over to you, removing your hands from your face and dipping down to look at you. 

“It’s so fucking hard to contain myself right now. I can admit that.” He whispers, blinking at you. “If you feel satisfied with where we stand, I’d be more than happy to leave this table now and prove everything to you.”

An instant nod from you, and an instant confirmation from Jake. 

You’re both out of the restaurant before a single sip of water, before a single visual inspection of the forgotten food the two of you ordered, and before any doubt could creep in to ruin the electrifying atmosphere you were indulging in with him. 

For Jake, his self control wavers with each passing moment as you sit next to him in the car. You look so calm as he drives as quickly and safely as possible back to your apartment, shaming himself for ever considering the two of you go in the first place. Still, the outcome is somehow more satisfying. Both of you wanting to leave just so you can truly be alone together? He couldn’t ask for a better night. 

Still, your calmness contrasts the way his insides vibrate the closer he gets to your place, and he wonders how the fuck you manage to do it. If you were to simply glance at him at the right moment, you’d see his entire body melt in the fantasies of what the two of you may be willing to do tonight. 

Years worth of pining in his head and heart are bubbling up now. You’re inviting him in, you’re accepting him, you’re wanting him back. 

What he doesn’t know though, is that you are quite literally imagining yourself wrapped in chains to this seat. Why? Because if it weren’t for those astral chains, you’d be on top of him in an instant, reassuring him that if there’s anything in the world you’ve wanted within the past few weeks, it’s him. You’d be apologizing for never taking note of his feelings before, and kissing away all of the moments he wished he could have had with you before, replacing them with very real, firm, hot kisses. 

Thankfully though, you manage to tame the beast from within and somehow, so does he. Up until you get through your apartment door and the electrifying atmosphere sizzles away in an instant. 

You expected to have the confidence to, quite literally, jump on him as soon as your door closed. Instead, you find yourself standing in awe at the entryway. 

Jake, on the other hand, would love nothing more than to have you right this moment, speeding and parking crooked be damned, he will not allow it just yet. 

“Listen,” He reaches out to you, pulling you up and against his chest. “I need to shower before I let myself do anything.” 

You breathe a sigh of relief, noting that the awkwardness came from the fact that Jake’s energy is seeping out of him, lust and worry for possibly not being as clean as he’d like to be for this. 

It feels strange, actually. You can imagine you’ve had many hook-ups with men who wouldn’t even consider a shower before inviting you over. 

“Hurry up then, before I decide to call Sungh-” 

“Don’t you fucking dare make that joke right now,” Jake squeezes you tighter against you, hating himself for constantly bringing up reasons to wait. 

“If we are going to like,” He pauses, struggling to say it out of pure nervousness that you might change your mind. “You know, be exclusive, Sunghoon’s name is forbidden.”

You chuckle against him before shoving him back in a playful way. 

“Deal. Now, can you fucking hurry?” You roll your eyes playfully, internally a little thankful for the short moments you will have to prepare yourself for this. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

Damn this shower for feeling so good. Jake could fall asleep under the warmth if it weren’t for the fact that he’s been half-hard this entire time and truly fighting with himself on how to approach this situation.

It’s kind of awkward, actually. Knowing exactly what the two of you are about to do but having to wait even for fifteen minutes makes it seem like you both have a scheduled hook up and nothing more. 

It’s not a hook up though. Jake is finally where he’s always wanted to be with you, in your shower priming his body to go absolutely fucking insane on you. Before, when he ate you out, he really was controlling himself. He wanted to do more with you so bad, and now? God…

He’s flushed as he finally makes his way out of the shower, length still stiffening and softening with each thought that passes. He can barely look at himself in the mirror without wanting to laugh at how embarrassing he truly is. 

You’d probably laugh too, and he’d love the sound of it. 

Then, he’s faced with a dilemma. 

You, on the other hand, find yourself lying quietly in your bedroom after doing your best to fix the mess of yourself for whatever Jake may offer. Waiting for him, and ultimately wondering what the fuck is taking him so long when you finally hear the bathroom door open.

Faintly, you can smell your shampoo and body wash that he used as you hear him make his way to the living room and not find you. 

Then, you hear him making his way to your room. He doesn’t open the door any further than it already was and instead, stands behind it quietly before muttering out. 

“Um,” He starts, putting his hand on your door and only peeking his head in. “I wasn’t sure if there was a point to putting my clothes on–” 

Fucking pause.

God, he must sound so stupid saying that, especially after looking into your room and seeing you lying against your bed changed into the exact same pajamas you put on the night he initially made a move on you through the guise of friendship. 

Well, now it’s not even a question and he was right to assume that all he needed to do was wrap a towel around his waist and come to you. 

You watch his eyes travel your body curiously, a smile forming on his face.

“If you’re wondering if I put panties on this time too,” You smile, reaching a hand out as if to invite him to open that door and come have at it. “I didn’t.”

That’s all it takes, really, to have him pushing the door open and not-so-calmly making his way to your bed. 

Seeing his naked and damp chest is one thing, but smelling your scent all over him is another, especially when the first thing he does is practically envelop you with his body and plant his lips straight on your own. 

The first real kiss. Despite his lips having been on you before, you melt into it and find yourself forgetting how differently he’s acting now compared to before. He was so confident, so cocky, and now he’s almost docile. Meek. 

“I’ve wanted to do this for so long,” He leans back to whisper, adjusting his body so that he’s more comfortable and leaning down on one arm while the other holds your cheek. “Can’t believe you let me eat you out before ever letting me actually kiss you.”

Your face heats up at the comment, making you feel more scandalous than you ever truly tried to be. But he’s not wrong, and you regret making him feel like eating you out was the only way to get to your heart.

Strangely though, it was the way to your heart. Him doing that for you practically threw you into the deep end in search for more, from him, specifically. 

“Can’t believe you decided that you should just eat me out rather than admit your feelings for me.” You counter with a smile, lifting your head to kiss against him again and pretending you can’t feel the weight of his length under the loosely knotted towel on his waist. 

“Well, it worked, didn’t it?” He says through the kisses, quickly losing the ability to speak when you lick against his bottom lip and, ultimately, take control of the act.

He wonders what your mouth could do to him. His entire body reacts to the way your tongue flicks and licks against his own, it takes everything in him to try and control himself from pushing too far too soon– until he realizes that there is no reason to control himself now. 

Never has making out gotten him this turned on, and it’s not a surprise because it’s you. 

He half moans, half chuckles into your kiss when he does it, pressing his hips down and against your thigh much like he did previously to the very mattress he’s got you lying against. 

“There’s so much I want to do,” He finally admits, pulling back from the kiss and hanging his head to feel how his cock reacts to the flesh of your thigh. “Please, let me do all of it.” 

You sigh, somehow feeling a pang of arousal radiate between your legs despite not yet being touched there. The weight of him on you is enough, and all you can do is nod and await the ways he intends to relieve himself with you.

Hours of head, he could give. Even more hours of burying his cock between those pretty lips and watching you return the favor for him. His confidence grows as your body moves under him, waiting, waiting, waiting for what he will do next. 

First, he plants another kiss to you, pressing his hips hard against your thigh with a breathy sigh before moving his lips down, against your neck. 

At the same time, his hands work their way up your loose shirt, cupping one breast in his palm and easily teasing your nipple with his fingers. He works his lips down the center of your clothed chest, down to your stomach, and then up again. His nose nudges your shirt up with each kiss, until his lips replace his fingers and he’s sucking your nipple into his mouth.

You’ve never felt so wanted in your life with the way he appears to be savoring you. Leaving his own pleasure neglected once again, his entire focus is on you. You arch your back up a bit, hands shooting to his head and cradling it there against your breast. 

He groans when you scratch against the nape of his neck, wiggling your hips under him and chasing the sensation that his mouth manages to send to your clit. He groans again when your nipple remains firm between his lips, and he begins to nibble. 

And this time, he moans when he manages to trail one of his hands down just to see how much it will take of this to get you wet. He tucks one hand under your shorts, only to find that you’re already dripping, soaking his fingers with a mere single slide up your folds.

“Fuck,” He sighs as if it’s a compliment when he pops his mouth off of you, flicking his head up to look at your already dazed eyes. “Already?” 

You glance away, embarrassed by how badly you want the man who was once your best friend, and is now….more than that. You can feel his fingers graze and gently play around with the heat your body has already released for him, rolling your eyes back each time he pretends he’s going to offer pressure to your clit. 

He’s fucking teasing you, and you know it.

He knows it too, because of fucking course he is. After years of torture, wondering if you’d ever manage to get wet at all with the thought of him, here you are, dripping under him when all he’s done is kiss you and fondle your nipples. 

Briefly, he remembers how needy your hips were when his tongue was seeping into you. He remembers the taste of each thrust you pressed against his face, and the smell of how badly you needed him at the time. 

As used as he was by you that night, he wants nothing more now than to pull those same desperate moans from you, to taste the wet inside of you that no man ever managed to release for you. 

“I feel like I’m going insane,” He finally breathes out, still toying with your folds and keeping an eye on the way your eyes glare back at him. “I want you so fucking bad–” He stutters now, instantly sliding his fingers into you and scooting down on the bed at lightening speed, pressing your loose shorts to the side just to get the taste of you against his lips again.

Your legs instantly shoot over his shoulders, and one of his hands reaches up to hug your thigh against him as his tongue immediately laps at every dip and crease of your cunt. His eyes nearly roll back at being able to experience this again, his fingers holding firm without a single movement just so he can feel your body confirm that you want him just as much. 

The clench around his fingers are enough, and he licks around them only for a moment before returning his lips to your clit and giving you all he’s got. 

All he can feel is your legs tightening around his head, nearly lifting your ass up and off of the bed, all he can hear is his own moans vibrating through him each time he hears you react. 

Arguably, even after that brief moment of teasing from him, feeling his mouth so eager, much like before, sent you straight into a blissed state and made you forget about the restaurant, the shower, the weeks of pining before this. His mouth is so warm, and his vibrating moans sooth your clit through its desperate attempts to beg for more. 

You can’t help the fact that your legs hug his head, or the way your hands shoot down much like before, scratching through his hair before dropping down and spreading yourself open with two fingers solely to expose your clit in full to the assault of his tongue he’s giving you. 

He missed you so much, he missed this so much. Never again will he leave you wondering, from this point forward, you should be well aware that if you so much as pushed him to his knees and lifted a leg over his shoulder, he’d be eating like a fucking king. 

Still, even with his immense love for kissing your pussy until your legs shake, there’s more to be experienced here than just this. His pace slows with the reality of that, and only now does he move his fingers with intent, and he pulls back to see how you’re spreading yourself for him, even as your legs fall from his shoulders.

“Fuck.” He rasps, lips glistening with a mixture of his own saliva and your slick. 

You lend him a drunken smile, nodding slowly as you focus in on the way his fingers scissor you open. Within a blink though, his face is right there hovering above you, staring intently at the way you react to his fingers. 

“You look so good right now, you know that?” He compliments, leaning down again to plant a kiss against you, only pumping his fingers in faster when your kiss appears to be more hungry than his own. “God, I can feel you squeeze my fingers–” 

And it’s true, he’s seeing stars solely because he can feel the clench of your pussy walls pushing his two fingers together, almost pushing against his attempts to scissor you open and curl them into the spot inside he knows you have. He can only imagine how good that would feel if he were to…

His eyes squeeze shut in a drawn out moan at the thought, his own kiss growing more hungry as he releases the towel from his waist and quickens the pace of his fingers inside of you. 

You can feel him press his cock against you, and the weight of it only becomes heavier when his fingers pause inside of you just so he can slip them out and use those same slick-coated digits to hold his length down and against you before he slides it between your lips. Now coating himself in the same wet sensation. 

You listen closely to his moan, knowing that he seems fond of neglecting his own pleasure to the point of doing near-embarrassing things to get it back when he needs it the most. It’s strangled, almost. You can hear him swallow around it when he slides up harshly, bumping your clit and causing your shorts to stretch against the crease of your thigh. 

He seems so…desperate. Yet, he can have anything he wants. 

“Keep it spread open–” He mutters when he feels you try to remove the hand that had been holding your pussy out on display for him. “I want to feel all of it.”

God, you’ve never heard him say something so sexy. Easily you do as he says, now using both hands to hold either side of your pussy open for him, and feeling the underside of his length slide against your hole. 

You let out a pleased sigh, despite your shorts becoming a nuisance at this point. It’s easy to forget you’re still wearing them though, because they only become drenched more and more as the moments pass with Jake.

You can genuinely just assume that his cock must be aching as he does this, leaking all over you. That’s something you don’t mind at all, because the stimulation is far beyond what you could ever ask for. 

“Jake–” You try to speak, only to be cut off by his hand sliding under your head and his lips attaching yet again to you.

There, you can’t help it when you remove your hands and shoot them up to his face. Holding him there, feeling the way his jaw moves when he licks into your mouth in a desperate attempt to get as much of you as he can in this moment. 

His hips fuck forward much like they did into his palm all those weeks ago, and the anticipation of if or when he finally plunges it into you drives you to kiss him just as hard as he does you.

There is nothing but the sound of kissing in the room save for muffled moans from both of you, entirely tangled up together as he does nothing more than grind himself against you. His hand cradling your head and the other still pressing his length down and against you as close as he can manage. Yours, cupping his cheeks as he kisses you, up until you run one hand down to take over for him.

In that moment, with his free and now shaking hand, he pulls back entirely and just looks at you.

He’s out of it, entirely gone from this world as he stares down with his hair drying by the minute from that shower, messy as all hell with darkened hooded eyes. He continues to stare, each thrust against you becoming pointed to the extent that it almost feels like he’s already fucked you for hours. 

And then, you feel it. The weight lifting, your shorts being stretched until they’re sliding down your thighs and off of you, and then the warmth as he adjusts his hips just barely enough to line up with your quivering hole, practically begging for him to stretch you out for the first time. 

His eyes falter only for a moment when he realizes that this is a moment he will never forget. The way you look up at him with glassy and needy eyes, out of breath, seemingly loving him as much as he’s always loved you. 

“Yeah?” He whispers, not breaking eye contact even for a moment. 

“Please.” You mutter out, not fully intending for it to sound so broken.

And as broken as your voice was in that instance, he grows much weaker by it. Dropping his head with a deep sigh, a smile, and then a chuckle.

“You really, really, can’t look at me like that and expect me to be gentle…” He pauses to look at you again. “For your sake, please tell me to slow down.”

You can barely comprehend a word he’s saying when you can feel the head of his cock teasing where you need it the most. 

“Please.” You rasp out again, wrapping your legs around his waist and forcing his body forward, ultimately sliding the tip of his length into you yourself. 

“Oh, fuck–” He chokes out before sucking in a breath and letting out a moan at the feeling. His body jerks at the sensation, the sound of your voice, the way you pulse around him. “Fuck, so good.” He continues to mutter, controlling himself for only a few seconds longer just to see if you have the ability to understand that he truly and honestly will not have the ability to go easy on you at this point. 

“Deeper.” You plead, squeezing your legs tighter around him, uncaring of his attempt to control the situation. 

That’s all it takes. Your broken voice already had him shaking, and now he’s giving up any and all control that he could have possibly hoped to have. 

Right there, with your legs hugging his waist, your hands gripping the pillow behind your head, and his hands finding purchase on either side of your shoulders, he sinks himself into you as deep as he can go and feels as if the life is being choked out of him over how fucking good it feels. 

He throws his head back in an erotic and attractive moan of relief, allowing you a glimpse at the expanse of his stretched neck, naked of any marked territory. Still, your vision goes white when the stretch hits you.

So big, so strong on top of you. You can imagine he really could fuck you hard, you hope he doesn’t go gentle on you at all, actually

“Shit, please,” You moan brokenly again, releasing your pillow and gripping his forearms. “Jake, god–” You have no words to describe how good he feels inside of you, you couldn’t begin to fathom trying to explain to him how perfect he is. 

It feels deep, deeper than you ever could have imagined. His length alone should have been enough to tell you that, but you hadn’t yet factored in the girth of it. So heavy inside of you, touching each soft and sensitive surface your pussy has to offer. 

Your body jolts in adjustment, knocking the breath out of you despite him not moving just yet. 

“Shh–” He soothes, not at all actually wanting to hush your cries for him. In fact, he’s simply saying it because he could quite literally release at any moment if you continue to speak and clench him like this. And when he finally looks down at you, he can’t fucking help it.

His hips move at their own volition, and he was right in believing there is no gentle fuck to be had here. He slides out only slightly, with the intent to fuck you as full of him as he can. He wants to stay deep, because you asked, and he wants to keep you feeling stretched around him because he can truly never get over the way you look and sound right now. 

You shake at the feeling of him pressing impossibly deeper into you, keeping his hips flush against you before snapping his hips back more now. A slightly empty feeling inside of you being filled once again within a second. 

His moans sound beautiful, he feels beautiful, and all you can do is stare up at him with watery eyes and a slack jaw, wondering why it took him so long to do this with you.

Wondering why it took you so long to want it at all, when now, you think you could never feel this good with another person again. 

His arms flex in your grasp with each thrust, and his eyes land on each visible part of your body before he weakens his stance and lowers himself to you, hips still fucking you open at a pace that’s only becoming more and more rapid, more and more fucking blinding. 

“Yeah, yeah–” Jake suddenly chimes with out of breath words, kissing you before you can comprehend or respond to those words. “No one has ever reacted like this for me–” He continues, pointing his thrusts harder into you. “Feels so good, so tight around me.” He chokes up at the last few words, stuttering his and picking up a different pace.

This time, those harsh thrusts pull back further, emptying you before slowly pressing into you again. 

“I want you to remember how this feels,” He continues, seemingly rambling against your lips with each slow thrust. “No one will ever fuck you like I will.” 

Your hooded eyes shoot open with arousal at his confident boasting. Those words feel so final, as if it isn’t even a rule, but a logical fact that only the two of you could ever find to be true. 

You can’t even manage a response, and instead moan before tucking your lips up and against his neck, using one hand to grip his hair and skew his head. 

That once naked and markless neck is no more. He is yours, and you’re lucky enough now to know that this is exactly how he wants you to feel. 

“Ahh, you like that?” He questions your reaction to his words, feeling your hips make attempts to meet him halfway with each thrust. “You like when I talk?” He continues to urge your sucking lips to speak out to him, to answer him, to boost his ego just a bit more. 

“So much,” You nearly whimper against his neck, moving your lips to another spot. “Love when you’re confident like this–”

He’s in heaven hearing those words. As if it’s a confirmation that he wasn’t just talking dirty. You both truly take those words and will fuck by them from this point forward. He truly doesn’t want anyone else, and hopefully, you’d never give another person the chance to make an attempt to fuck you the way he does. 

And then the room falls silent again, as if Jake is focused on reminding you with each passing second that he’s never been more sure or right of something in his life. Despite you already believing him, the way his cock pulses inside of you is enough of a reminder even if he had never said it in the first place. 

His pace quickens again, and then slows, and then stutters. Only to fall back into a good rhythm before his entire body starts to shake through the act. 

You wonder if this is it. Is this how his body reacts when he’s about to cum? Is this what his face looks like? Is this what his eyes do? Did his arms strain like this the first time? Did his moans come out as choked and desperate? 

None of that matters, because as quickly as it started, he buries himself into you again and stays in that one spot, shaking and timidly looking down at you. 

“Don’t move, please, don’t move.” He practically begs, losing himself to the way your hips chase the feeling of constant stimulation. “Stop moving.” He pleads again, pulling his chest from you and sitting up on his knees, keeping his cock in place deep within you. 

You watch him, unable to keep your hips still, and he watches you– trying to keep his orgasm under control before seeing your fingers trail down your stomach and to your clit.

There, he loses himself, watching you rub the soft spot just above where his cock stuffs you full. 

“I can’t,” He chokes out, snapping his hips back and allowing himself to get lost in the feeling. “Fuck, I really can’t.” He continues to mutter out, pressing his strings of cum ever deeper inside of you as he feels every muscle in his body tense. 

It feels so sensitive, but he can’t stop moving, feeling his cum fill you up to the point it’s surely being pressed out of you by his desperate length wanting nothing more than to stay inside of you.

You moan through it with him, encouraging him to lose himself inside of you, and he’s so beautiful when he does it. The fact that he does it at all has your body tensing on its own. Teetering on the edge of your own orgasm with the way your fingers almost aggressively chase after the feeling he appears to still be releasing inside of you.

And then, emptiness. You are left empty and dripping, fingers still chasing your release before–

“What the fu–” You moan, squeezing your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue instantly back on you. As if he’s looping back to the beginning of it all, uncaring of tasting himself solely because through it all, he can still taste you. “Jake, Fuck–yes, right there.” You continue to groan when he replaces his tongue against your hole with his fingers, fucking into you as quickly as he can before nudging your fingers away and taking over the chase of your orgasm. 

You’re entirely amazed by how eager he is to pull it from you, and that alone is enough. The desperate ways in which he decided to pleasure you right in this moment, it’s enough.

Your hands instantly reach for his hair, gripping so tightly that you can hear the pained sound he lets out at the sheer force behind it. You very nearly rub his nose in the mess he’s made of you out of the sheer arousal you feel through your orgasm. 

You’re seeing white, feeling his fingers expertly work you open and somehow don’t feel disappointed at all that you didn’t get there before he pulled out of you. You can still feel him dripping out, fingers squelching and sliding through the mixture of both orgasms inside of you. And his tongue, good lord his fucking tongue, licking up every bit and eagerly flicking your clit at a pace much faster than he offered before.

And now, you find your legs nearly kicking him across the room. As soon as the orgasm subsides, your body goes into overdrive with the overwhelming sensitivity between your legs and all he can do is laugh at the way you practically do kick him.

Right off the bed, actually, he tumbles. 

You lay there, staring into space as you attempt to bring yourself back to reality when you see his messy hair and glistening eyes peek from the edge of your bed at you. His shoulders huffing with each deep breath he takes. 

“Jesus fucking christ.” You manage to gasp out, spread eagle and almost completely naked on your bed save for the forgotten shirt that’s still pushed up to your collarbone. 

He makes his way back up to you, pressing your legs together, lowering your shirt, and planting his heavy dead-weight right on top of you. 

A solid ten minutes pass as the two of you lay there in the mess you’ve both created. Heavy breaths turn to easy, balanced breaths together. You can barely hold your eyes open when he finally rolls off of you and right up against your side. 

“Can I ask you something?” He mutters, throat dry and stomach growling embarrassingly loud. 

“Hm?” You hum out, entirely ready to just sleep in the mess.

“Are you always like that?” He questions, a little hint of doubt breaking his confidence. “Like, did Sunghoon see you act like that too?” 

You crack your eyes open and instantly turn to face him. 

“You’re insane if you think Sunghoon is that good. I’ve never used the word ‘please’ in my life.”

Jake glances away, thinking to himself and letting those words sink in.

“Well,” He starts, pausing and feeling that little pit in his stomach return. “That’s a lie because I’ve heard you use your manners at least twice in the years I’ve known you.” 

You smile, loving that the two of you can still be somewhat catty and playful even after the fact that you just realized how insanely in love with him you are. 

“Jake, no one has ever made me act like this in bed.” You try to reassure him. “I don’t think anyone else could, besides you.”

He smiles with a nod, running his hands down your body before pausing at the half dried cum that managed to make its way up to your stomach. And then? He groans. 

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

It’s insane really, that all it took for you to fall in love with the person you think you were always meant to love was him admitting it. Even more insane that he decided to take the route that involved faux playful head, with no feelings attached despite his feelings being deeply fucking attached. 

Still, the route taken to get to this point, he thinks, is fitting for the two of you. Especially now that he can look at Sunghoon without wanting to strangle him, and he can look at you knowing you’d very much invite him to strangle you, you know, considering the fact that you’re now trying to explore every sexual realm in the fucking universe with him.

Even with the desperate need to have you under him any chance he gets, and the fucking, and the arousal, none of it shines brighter than the small intimate moments he has with you that aren’t weighed down by pining or lust. 

As playful as the two of you are together, there is so much love here. So much love to still be discovered too, and he can’t help but feel excited by it. 

Romance isn’t dead, despite how the two of you tried to fucking butcher it. 

[shellshocklove]

brat! | joel miller

pairing/AU: joel miller x brat!female!reader – no outbreak

summary: joel is having a brat summer.

warnings: this is an 18+ fic so mdni! age gap, enemies to lovers vibes? swearing, drinking of alcohol, smoking of cigarettes, reader wears a dress, heels and lipstick but otherwise no other descriptions, use of pet names, brat tamer!joel, dom!joel, manhandling, a little exhibitionism? fingering, choking, spitting, a little dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), cock worship, spanking, degradation (whore, slut), some sub space territory, unprotected sex (don’t do it!!), creampie, one use of the word ‘daddy’, no use of y/n

a/n: this was fun! and naughtier than i thought it was gonna be 💀 i’ve never written a reader so far removed from my own personality lol and i’m kind of obsessed with how this turned out. anyways stream brat by charlie xcx and happy reading! <3

main masterlist / series masterlist / ao3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸 this account stands with palestine. the creator of tlou is a zionist, and the second game is largly based on israel/palestine. please, everyone who interacts, educate yourself about the genocide happening right now, and support/donate.

Blitzes of red, green, and blue danced before your eyes. The beating in your temples in tune with the bass vibrating in your chest. Around you the faceless bodies moved in slow motion. The heat rose around you as the sweat clung to your skin.

You’re sure you’ve lost your friends. Well, not lost lost. They were in the dancing crowd somewhere. Behind you, the same ugly guy had been rubbing up against you for a minute too long. You knew because you’d tipped your head back once and his borderline bowl cut hair, polo shirt with deep sweat rings under his arms, and tan chinos, were not it.

His breath stank of tequila when he leaned into your ear, “Hey,” he slurred, “wanna get out of here?”

And that had been your cue to leave.

With a scoff, you turned around to get a good look at him. You’d sized him up, made a show of it, and laughed in his face. Then you pushed your way through the crowd, coming up for air by the bar.

The earlier buzz you’d been sailing on, had weaned off a long time ago. It had been last minute, you weren’t even going out tonight, just having dinner with your childhood friends while you were home for the summer. But then one of them had ordered shots for the table just as the last plate had been cleared, and soon you were at the club cruising on a couple of glasses of wine and a lousy shot. Not that it mattered, usually you ended up twirling some sorry man around your finger long enough to get yourself a couple of rounds, before you’d excuse yourself to the ladies’ room and leave with your friends.

Looking down the bar, you searched for tonight’s victim.

To your right a group of girls huddled around the edge, waiting for their own drinks by the looks of it.

Not them.

Down to your left, a boy with a face full of acne fumbled with his card as he paid for a round of beers. He didn’t even look old enough to be in here, but that wasn’t your problem. You had to hold back a laugh as you watched him struggle to figure out how to carry the five beers he’d ordered back to his friends. He ended up gathering them in a circle to wrap his hands around, and you’d seen this go wrong plenty of times to feel the pull of an amused smile on your lips.

When he’d vanished into the crowd, your eyes flicked back to the bar, to the man sitting there– and he was a man. Probably somewhere in his fifties you reckoned, but he looked gorgeous. A real dilf. Your interest was piqued.

You slid down the bar.

He didn’t look particularly amused where he sat at a bar stool, nursing a beer in his hands. Who sits at the bar in the club? He looked nice. Brown hair, dark jeans, and a grey t-shirt stretched deliciously over his chest. When you got closer you could see a flannel resting beside him on the bar.

Is this what older men wear to the club these days?

He didn’t seem to notice you as you sat down next to him – either that, or he ignored you. You kinda wished for the latter, it would make it more fun.

You gave him a few more minutes of silence, of your presence, to see if he’d say something to you. When he didn’t you asked him over the music, “Aren’t you gonna buy me a drink?”

You said it innocently, but like it was obvious and he hadn’t caught on yet. His head turned towards you, still unamused, but with his eyebrow raised.

Okay, you could work with that.

You didn’t say anything as he studied you, drank you in like you’d done to him from afar. You felt his gaze over your clinging dress, your bare shoulders, before they found your eyes.

Something tickled in your core, and you were reminded of how long it had been since you’d been properly fucked– fucked by someone who wasn’t some drunk guy at your college’s parties, but fucked by someone who knew what they were doing.

The man turned towards you; a smile tickling the corner of his mouth.

“Does that usually work f’you, sweetheart?”

You weren’t expecting his rebuttal, but you liked it. He wasn’t some boy who’d trip over himself for the privilege of being in the presence of you. The boys – they made it too easy – but this man would make you work for it.

Putting on your most saccharine smile you slid closer to him, “You looked so lonely over here– thought I’d keep you company.”

A scoffing laugh escaped him, and his head dipped, “’s that so?” His eyes found yours again.

“Haven’t seen you here before,” you ignored his question, and brushed your heeled foot up the length of his calf.

“Ain’t ever been here before,” he kept his eyes on your face, his drawl pulling at the words and twisting up your insides.

“So, a virgin, huh?” you teased, and that seemed to amuse him.

“What– you’re here to pop my cherry?”

This time an amused smile pulled at your face. You liked this man. “Not without a drink first,” your foot slid down his calf, “what do you take me for?”

A bright sense of pride filled your chest when you made him laugh, filling you up with confidence.

“D’you want me to answer that?” he rebutted.

He didn’t say it with any malice, it was teasing and playful, and it pulled at the veil inside you. A genuine smile pulled at the corners of your mouth, “Probably not.”

“What can I getcha, then, sweetheart?”

“G&T?” you said, and bit down on your bottom lip coquettishly.

Turning away from you, the man got the attention of the bartender. You watched his profile, followed the line of his jaw, the shape of his nose. You decided then and there that your night was gonna end in this man’s bed.

“Sooo,” you sang, when you’d gotten your drink, “first time here, huh?” The man just nodded, before he sipped his beer.  

Not much of a talker, huh?

“You here alone, or? With the wife maybe?”

That pulled a laugh from him. “I’m here with my lil’ brother… bachelor party,” he shook his head, like he couldn’t believe he’d gotten dragged in here, “he’s gettin’ married next month.”

“Ah,” you nodded and took a sip of your drink. “So, where are you heading next? A strip club?” you teased.

The man just shot you an unimpressed look, and you thought about how you’d never seen a man look so out of place, ever.

“What? The wife won’t let you?”

A sharp huff escaped him, “Ain’t got no wife no more,” he said matter-of-factly.

You took another sip of your drink to hide the smile from forming.

Bingo.

“I take it you’re a man who does what he wants, then?” you said it innocently, and subtly slid your hand over his knee. His eyes caught yours at the touch, and you swore you saw something change in them.

You’d hooked him now, all you had to do was reel him in.

He turned his body towards you – he did it slowly, like every muscle he moved had been calculated beforehand. Then he leaned in closer, his hot breath huffing against your ear.

“Takes one to know one, ain’t that right?”

Under your skin, you buzzed, your heart beating out of your chest at the new proximity. You had to stay cool, play it off, act unbothered. So, you pulled away slightly, and turned your head to meet his eyes.

“What?” he challenged with a raise of an eyebrow, “Ain’t used to people talkin’ back?”

When you didn’t say anything right away, a smug grin coated his lips, “Yeah, I know girls like you.”

“There’s no girls like me,” you argued back, his confidence both pissing you off, and turning you on at the same time.

“Oh, but there are– Spoiled daddy’s girls who ain’t had anyone tellin’ them no their whole life. They do what they want, and play with who they want– I know a brat when I see one.”

Your eyes narrowed at him as he pulled away, that infuriating smug grin not going anywhere. The worst part was that he was right, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction.

“But you like that don’t you?” you challenged, “I bet you live in some sad house in a sleepy suburban cul-de-sac, go to the same boring job every day, and wish your wife never left you.”

A flash of hurt could be seen across his face as those last words left your lips, and you thought you’d maybe gone too far. A beat of silence passed between you, the buzzing beat of the club music keeping the tune of the tension building.

You were about to apologize when he finally spoke, “You’re a rude one, aren’t ya?”

His voice didn’t sound as hurt as you’d thought, and you realize he was playing your game. You almost had him.

“And what are you gonna do about it?” you challenged, hammering the final nail in the coffin.

“That depends on you, sweetheart.”

Outside the club, Joel (the man had finally introduced himself) leaned against the bricks of the alley as you fished a cigarette from your purse. According to your phone, your uber would be there in ten minutes. The fresh air had sobered you up slightly, exchanging the buzzing alcohol in your veins with excitement.

You didn’t know what you were in for.

Over your skin, you felt his gaze roll over you, and you let him look. Let him study your body filling out your sheer, white, almost see-through dress. You didn’t offer him a cigarette; he’d have to ask for it himself, or take it, if he wanted a drag.

“So,” you took a drag of your cigarette, savoring the first tar-y breath, before exhaling through your nose, “where are you taking me?”

Joel shifted his weight against the bricks as his arms crossed over his wide chest. “Whatchu call it? My sad house?” he said, his voice bordering on cold if it wasn’t for the smug smile covering his features.

You gave him a sultry look as you stepped closer, crossing one heeled foot in front of the other, slowly.

“Mmm,” you hummed, as you tilted your head with an uninterested face, “Sounds fucking boring to me.” Your finger climbed up his chest, eyes traveling from his chest to his face. His stern face gave nothing away, as you took another drag of your cigarette and blew the smoke in his face.

Finally, he’d had enough. His large hand wrapped around your wrist, and tightened, before he turned you around and pushed you up against the wall. You let out an exaggerated huff as your body hit the bricks, your cigarette slipping from your fingers. He pushed himself up against you, and you couldn’t contain the satisfied grin on your face, pleased to have pushed his buttons enough to finally act.

“Oh, I’ll show you boring, brat.”

A rough hand danced up the side of your thigh and under the hem of your dress. Challenging him, you squirmed against the grip of his other hand around your wrist.

“Nuh-uh,” he shook his head, and he was so close now you felt his breath ghost over your lips. With a twist of your arm, he pinned it behind your back, Joel now completely in control, and a buzz of arousal spread through your body at the thought.

“You listen’ up now, and I’m only gonna say it once: you’re gonna do as I say, when I say it, and no talkin’ back, we clear?” His voice was stern, but his dark brown eyes gave him away; how they’d widened with lust, blown out and dark. Your panties already soaked at the thought of what he had in mind for you tonight.

“Yes,” you said playfully, biting down at your bottom lip through a smile.

“Yes, sir,” he corrected as his rough hand on your thigh slid closer and closer to the seam of your thong. “Good girls who do as they’re told get rewarded, you understand?”

You nodded, sucking in a breath as you felt his fingers brush over your clit lightly. He was testing you now, teasing you, and pushing your buttons. You felt like you were on fire, burning from arousal; it licked up your thighs and flickered bright in your core.

Where was that fucking uber?

“But you ain’t no good girl,” he snickered, sliding his hand past your panties, “teasin’ me– tryna provoke me,” he shook his head, and a slick sound of your arousal could be heard as he worked two thick fingers through your wet folds.  

His finger poked at your hole where it ached for him. The thick tension between you weighed heavy with arousal as Joel leaned in closer, his breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.

“Imma have to punish you for that, baby, put you in your place.”

A gasp left your lips as he pressed two fingers inside. The stretch stung slightly, but you welcomed the pain, liked it. A satisfied grin blossomed over your face as he started moving his fingers. They felt so good inside of you, so thick, almost like a cock, and the way his palm rubbed against your clit– it gave you just enough stimulation to push you towards the edge of an orgasm.

“Look at you, slut,” his breath was hot as he whispered in your ear, “so desperate to get fucked.”

A strangled moan escaped your throat, and you couldn’t help but grind against his fingers to chase the pleasure he was giving you. The degrading words and humiliation only made you wetter. Joel couldn’t get any more perfect– so far, he'd played his part to the T.

“In your– fuck!” You moaned as the pad of his fingers brushed up against your g-spot. Just a little more now, and he’d have you coming on his fingers.

“Didn’t hear you, sweetheart, y’need to speak up,” he taunted, continuing the pace of his fingers.

“In your d-dreams, old man,” you tried to spit out, but the pleasure he gave you was taking over, making you stumble over your words.

Quickly, Joel withdrew his fingers, sliding them up the front of your cunt, giving your clit a slap, before he backed off completely. You gasped; face pulled tight in a disappointed frown.

“What the fuck!?”

And then he fucking laughed, fucking laughed at you.

“I already told you, sweetheart, only good girls get rewarded.”

He stepped closer again, his hand cupping your cheek while the other pressed the fingers coated in your arousal to your lips. “Clean up your mess, and we’ll see ‘bout that reward.”

Parting your lips, he stuffed his fingers inside your mouth. They tasted of you, a sweet-salty taste. You closed your lips around them, and sucked, letting your tongue tease around his fingers the way you’d tease his cock. “That’s it, good girl,” he grinned, and it sparked a small flame of pride in your chest.

When he was pleased with you, he slipped his fingers from your mouth. He let them glide over your lips, smearing your lipstick and coating your lips in your own saliva as a set of headlights illuminated the street. Then, he patted your cheek, nodding towards what you assumed was your uber as it rolled to a stop in front of you, “Go on, get in the uber.”

In the uber Joel was quiet, ignoring you as were forced to make small talk with the driver (you’d give him a bad review just for that). When you thought the small talk had been torture enough, Joel slid his hand up your thigh, resting his big palm right at the seam of your leg as he looked out the window. If your panties weren’t already soaked from what he’d done to you in the alleyway of the club, then they definitely were now as the anticipation only grew.

Joel’s house wasn’t sad at all. It was quaint, and suburban, but homey. Nice. No expensive designer furniture, but sturdy and of good quality either way. He had no rare art, but a decent amount of family photos and what looked like a child’s drawings. You stopped in the middle of the stairs to admire them. In one of them Joel looked as old as you were now, with a baby in his arms, in another he had his arm around the shoulders of another man who looked a lot like him, just with darker hair. His brother probably, the one getting married. The little baby was a little girl, and she grew up in front of you; birthday parties, first days of school, soccer uniforms. Your eyes landed on a photo of her in a graduation cap with Joel and the other man at her side, grinning wide with a college diploma in her hands. This man wasn’t who you’d thought. He had a family– a daughter your age. The wall of memories squeezed at your heart, made something inside you always kept hidden break forth–

“You comin’?”

Joel waited at the top of the stairs for you, his face pulled into a confused frown. You skipped up the stairs, happy to have left your heels by his door. When you got to the top, you pushed at his chest, “Just looking at your sad things.” With a roll of his eyes, he led you to his bedroom.

“Get on the bed,” he ordered, but his voice was distant, the bite from the club was gone.

It felt like the perfect opportunity to play with him.

“No,” you blinked innocently, your eyes wide as you watched him unbutton his green flannel, “you’ll have to make me.”

He let out a laugh that sounded more like a sigh, “I’m serious, sweetheart, I need to talk to you first.”

Talk?

“You can’t get it up, is that it? You’re too old?” you teased but sat down at the bed either way.

“You really are mean, aren’t ya?” His laugh sounded like a surrender. “A man wantin’ to be a gentleman and establish boundaries before he ruins her, and this is what he gets?”

Shaking his head, he walked closer, and cupped your head in his hands. “I plan on bein’ rough with ya, sweetheart, and I think that’s what you want too, isn’t it? Get fucked so hard you can’t think?” You nodded your head in his arms, the velvet bass of his voice going straight to your core.

“Listen’ closely– if I do anythin’ you don’t like, you say ‘red’ and we stop, and if you can’t speak then you pinch me, you hear?”

You nodded again.

“Words, baby, need y’to say it with that pretty voice.” His thumbs brushed over your cheek.

You nodded again, “Yes, sir… if I want you to stop, I say ‘red’, or pinch you.”

“Good girl,” he praised, “Anythin’ else?”

“Um…” Your front teeth caught on your bottom lip, “I’m on birth control– you can come inside me if you want.”

A noise rumbled in Joel’s chest. “Such a naughty girl,” his thumb brushed over the plump of your lips, “letting a stranger come inside her, huh?”

You nodded again, a wicked smile breaking against his thumb before you opened your mouth, and bit down. Not hard, just enough to pull a reaction from him, and you did.

Like a switch, the warm whiskey eyes faded into a deep black. The grip on your chin slid downwards, where it found your neck. He didn’t squeeze, but his grip wasn’t gentle either, holding you in place like a warning.

“You ought to treat me with more respect, brat…” he spat, his thumb digging into the column of your neck, “Apologize for your rude behavior.”

Against his hand, you shook your head to the best of your abilities, his grip tightening with your movement. You wished he’d choke you properly, make your head all fuzzy and empty– filled with nothing except for him.

“No.”

His face turned to stone above you, and you felt a giddiness flutter in your stomach.

 He didn’t like that.  

In one quick motion his hand was ripped from your throat as he stepped away. He didn’t look at you as he sighed, his hands falling to his belt buckle, sharp metal clinking.

Taking advantage of the moment, you admired the man before you. How big and broad he was. How his t-shirt stretched tight over his broad chest, biceps bulging against the woven fabric. You studied his hands as they fiddled with his buckle, thought about how good they’d felt inside you earlier, the pleasurable sting as they’d stretched you out.

“Get on your knees,” he ordered, voice cold.

When you didn’t move, he took matters into his own hands.

“Get. On. Your. Fuckin’. Knees.”

His grip around your wrist was tight, as he pushed you down. The hardwood floor dug into your knees as he manhandled you, sure to bruise tomorrow. He stood his ground in front of you, legs slightly parted as you were now eye level with his inviting bulge. He was big, and you felt your eyes widen. Even hidden away in his jeans you could see it, see the length of his hard cock strain against his thigh – it made your mouth water as you squeezed your thighs together.

“Look me in the eyes,” he told you, and your eyes flicked upwards – obedient for once. “Eyes up here at all times– Don’t you fuckin’ dare look away.”

He made it hard to do as he’d ordered, popping the button on his jeans, and pulling the zipper down. You wanted to see his cock, touch it, feel it inside you. He couldn’t possibly expect you to not look when it was right there.

"Disobedient slut.” 

The slap came quicker than the stolen glance, and your hand came up to graze your cheek on pure instinct. It stung under your palm, like a thousand little knives.

“What did I jus’ say?” He spat out the question, his hand gripping your chin to force eye contact.

“Look away?” you tried, your voice rising an octave.

“Open your fuckin’ mouth,” he sighed, leaning closer, “I ain’t wanna hear any more of your fuckin’ attitude.”

His grip tightened on your chin and your mouth dropped open by itself, “Open your mouth– that’s it… wider, just like that.”

Then he spat, right into your mouth.

You flinched at the suddenness of it, but Joel’s grip on your chin held you still– kept your mouth open, as you felt his spit slide further and further into your throat. You had a feeling you shouldn’t swallow until he told you, so you didn’t, your head pliant in his hand as you let him study you. A wide grin spread across his face as he moved your head from one side to the other, his rough fingers denting into your skin as you waited for your next command.

“Swallow, brat.”

He let go of your face, and you closed your mouth, swallowing down his spit with an audible gulp. “Good girl,” he muttered and stood tall, hooking his fingers into the waistband of his jeans.

The rough sound of denim against skin filled your ears as he freed himself. You were on your best behavior now, gathering your hands in your lap, sitting pretty for him as you locked eyes with him coquettishly.

“That’s better,” he said, “Actin’ like a proper good girl now,” he praised.

It took everything in you not to look, as he stepped closer.

With a fist tight around his cock, he brought the head to your mouth. He tapped it on your lips, smearing the precum beading at the tip and ruined your lipstick.

You wanted to taste him so badly, but he couldn’t know that. Pinching your lips together, you shook your head with wide coquettish eyes. His eyebrows pinched together in a frown, eyes narrowing at you as he pushed his cock against your lips.

“Open that pretty fuckin’ mouth, f’me,” he ordered.

Pretty. He called you pretty, and it was enough for you, you gathered, and stretched your mouth open for him.

“That’s it, wider.”

You twitched in surprise as he slapped the length against your tongue. It was heavy on your tongue, the salty taste of his precum mixing with your saliva as he rubbed the head over your tongue, in and out, in and out – coating his big cock in your saliva, “just like that, baby, get it nice ‘nd wet.”

Closing your lips around the mushroom tip, you ran your tongue around it in circles, teasing the underside and the slit, before you tipped your head back. His cock bobbed in front of you obscenely, a frown formed on his face again and you knew he was about to tell you off.

Gathering a blob of saliva in your mouth, you spat on his cock instead. A low humming laugh rumbled from Joel’s chest, as he collected your spit and rubbed it in over his shaft in slow strokes. The spit dripped down, down over your front where you felt it darken the fabric of your dress. Subtly, you reached your hands behind your back to pull at the zipper.

“Yeah, that’s right, get those pretty tits out f’me.”

He let you maneuver out of your dress while he stroked his cock slowly in front of your face, and finally, you could get a good look at him. He was bigger than you’d thought from his bulge. Veins lining his thick shaft as you watched the way his fist moved up, massaging the tip gently, and down again in a slow, steady rhythm. At the base unruly curls of dark hair shone in the spit gathering, and you let your eyes wander downward to his balls where they hung heavy.

You wanted to taste them, too.

With your dress discarded on the floor beside you, you sat up slightly, spreading your legs and tucking your calves up to your thighs. Almost naked, safe for the thong splitting your cheeks, you arched your back slightly, making sure he got a good view of your ass.

A groan rumbled in Joel’s chest, and a hand came down on your head, “You want my cock, don’t you, slut?” he spat, slapping his cock on your right cheek, spreading your spit on your skin.

“Do you make all your girls wait this long or is it just me?” you tutted, almost rolling your eyes at him.

“There’s that fuckin’ attitude again.”

Slapping his cock harder against your cheek, he leaned forward letting a blob of spit drip from his own lips, coating both his cock and your face as he rubbed it in with his cock.

It was obscene, degrading, and you’d never been wetter.

In desperation to taste him again, you opened your mouth and stuck your tongue out. The hand he’d used to stroke himself, wrapped around your skull, caging his cock between his hand and your face as he started thrusting against your face, his heavy balls rubbing against your chin with every slow push.

It was messy, sloppy, and wet. He held your head steady with his other hand, while he continued rubbing his cock over your cheek, nose, and forehead. His spit mixed with your own as you lapped at the underside of his cock; trying to taste as much of him as he’d give you.

“You dirty little whore,” he smiled, “You like that don’t you?”

Under him you whimpered, clit pulsing with want as he made you his plaything, did what he wanted with you.

“Yeah,” you moaned unabashedly, licking greedily at the underside of his cock.

At that, he laughed, and the grip on your head loosened as he pulled back. You only had time to take a deep breath before he stuffed his cock down your throat. It was abrupt, and harsh – the hefty length of him making room for himself inside your mouth.

You couldn’t fit him all inside, gagging as the head of him hit the back of your throat. He held you there still, one second, two seconds, three seconds. Your hand found his thigh where you tapped at him, and finally he pulled away.

You gasped for air, your breath wet with spit as small tears pricked at your eyes. His hand landed on top of your head again, grounding you to the moment as he searched your eyes, checking in.

No, you tried to convey, you’re not too rough.

Pleased, his cock bumped against your lips again, and you dropped your mouth open for him again.

“That’s it,” he murmured, thrusting his cock back in your mouth, “let’me fuck that throat open.”

Dropping your jaw, you tried to make room for him in your mouth. It wasn’t easy, your lips stretched wide around the girth of him as you tried to calm yourself, to open your throat for him to abuse. His cock was easily the biggest cock you’d ever sucked, and you told yourself you needed to relax.

He pressed himself deeper, and you let out a whimper. “Work with me, slut, hold still.”

Trying your best to obey, you breathed through your nose, staving off your gag reflex the best you could as the head knocked at the back of your throat. His other hand cupped your chin, keeping your head still between his large hands. A tear rolled down your cheek when he rutted into your mouth, testing the waters.

“Good girl,” he praised, fucking gently into your mouth. Saliva gathered in your mouth, drooling down your chin with each thrust. “Such a fuckin’ mess– Look me in the eye as I fuck your throat.”

Your hand wrapped around his wrist, keeping you steady as you locked eyes with him. It was difficult, tears clouding him in a vignette, but you did as you were told. He studied you closely, tested your boundaries, completely in control.

You gasped for air when he finally pulled back again. A wet string of saliva connecting your lips to the tip of his cock. A proud smirk coated his lips, while his hand stroked your head in praise.

The small moment of relief passed quickly, and soon his cock was back in your throat, bruising it in a steady rhythm.

“Take that fuckin’ cock all the way down your throat, whore,” he spat, his thrust a little rougher now that he knew you could take it.

He had you at his mercy now as he ruined you. Ruined your throat, ruined your body, ruined you for other men. Tears mixed with snot, which mixed with spit as it ran down your chin, dripping lewdly onto your tits where it made a mess.

Over you, Joel rambled.

“Good fuckin’ slut.”

“Choke on that big fuckin’ cock.”

“You love it don’t you?”

And you did, you loved it. Joel made you feel useful for once in a life – a fucked up thought, but then again you never said you weren’t fucked up. Joel’s words were filthy and dirty, and as humiliating as they were he made you feel wanted.

You just wanted to be wanted.

Another gasp of air filled your lungs as he slipped from your mouth. His grip on your head was tighter now, his cock throbbing in front of you. As much as you wanted him to fuck you, you wouldn’t complain if he came down your throat. He’d given you so much already.

“Fuck,” he whispered and let go of your head.

You took the opportunity to catch your breath, sniffling as you wiped at the snot that clogged up your nose. His hand came down to squeeze at the base of himself, clearly staving off his orgasm.

“What,” you croaked, your voice hoarse after his assault on your throat, “you’re so old you can’t come now?”

His eyes darkened as they locked with yours, and a giddy bouncing feeling twisted in on itself in your tummy. You wanted to see what he’d do to you– how he’d fuck you, and if you’d have to push his buttons to see it, you gladly push the big red button.

His hand wrapped around your bicep, digging into the skin as he dragged you to your feet and pushed you towards the bed.

“Still a fuckin’ brat I see,” he spat, “We can’t have that can we?”

Putting on your best puppy dog eyes, you bit down on your bottom lip. “Who me?” you said innocently.

“Bend over, slut,” he ordered, his voice coated in a tone that said he was fed up with your bullshit. Strong arms turned you around, manhandling you, and pushed your front down on his bed, “’nd spread your fuckin’ legs.”

With a kick to your ankles, he forced your legs open. Tipping your head up, you locked eyes with your reflection in the window, like a camera lens capturing your ruin at Joel’s hand. He hovered over you, his eyes trailing over your naked body, laid out for him to take.

The first smack came quickly, hard, and brutal on your ass cheek. It made you jump, the muscles in your ass clenching as you tried to reel yourself in. Joel’s rough hand soothed over the burn immediately, and you turned your neck to find his eyes.

“I wanna hear an apology from you, brat,” he said calmly, one finger hooking into the lace of your thong.

You shook your head. Stubborn. “No.”

His head fell between his shoulders, while his finger hooked in your thong tightened its grip, and with a hard tug, he ripped it in two.

“Then I’m gonna have to punish ya.” He said it with a deep sigh, like he had no other choice.

You couldn’t hide the excitement that filled you at those words, your cunt now dripping with need. A need for Joel.

With the scrap of your thong now discarded his hand danced over your ass. You tried not to hold your breath, but he drew it out, and you couldn’t help it. The tension in the air so thick, you couldn’t focus.

Smack!

He spanked your other cheek hard, and the tension was released with a whimper. A tickling feeling of pins and needles spread through your cheek.

Smack! Smack! Smack!

They came in quick procession, your hands gripping the sheets for a lifeline as he put you in your place. Moans fell from your lips without abandon, and you felt yourself drip down your legs.

Smack!

“Look how wet you are,” he noticed, running a finger through your seam, “You like it? Only desperate whores like to get spanked.”

He leaned over you, his soft belly (when had he removed his shirt?) pressed against your back, coarse hair tickling your skin, as you felt his hard cock rub up against your sore ass.

“But that’s what you are, ain’t you? A desperate fucking whore.” His breath in your ear, had goosebumps erupt down your spine, and you sobbed out a whine.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he whispered, and pulled away – taking his warmth with him.

Smack!

Tears pushed their way behind your eyes, not because you didn’t like it, but it stung like a motherfucker. Joel wasn’t all brutal, he rubbed your skin between hits, but fuck if it didn’t also hurt with pleasure.

“Say you’re sorry,” he demanded.

Turning around you shook your head, big wide eyes watching him as he spanked you again.

Smack!

“You’re tearing up, little girl– It stings doesn’t it?” he asked, voice laced with fake pity.

You nodded.

“Well, maybe you should be a good girl then– say you’re sorry.”

Smack!

“I’m sorry!” you blurted out, voice cracking.

Finally.

Joel stopped immediately, his hand twisting around your waist to flip you on your back. His eyes danced over your body, almost tenderly but still full of lust. His hand moved up and down your sides, down the thick of your thigh before they gripped your ankles and tugged.

A squeal escaped you as he manhandled you, his large hands cupping your face while he fitted himself between your legs. “Good girl,” he cooed, thumbs stroking your cheeks, “That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You shook your head in his hands, popping your lip out in an innocent pout.

“No,” he cooed, removing a hand to fit between your bodies.

You gasped when you felt the head of his cock bump your clit, the first real stimulation you’d had since you’d left the ally by the club. Your hips bucked by themselves, chasing the friction of his touch.

“Who owns this cunt?” he asked you, dark eyes staring into yours as he dragged his cock through your soaked folds.

“You do, sir,” you sighed immediately, your whole body aching for him.

A wide wicked grin spread across his face, “Lookit you bein’ such a good girl– finally know your place, huh?”

With no warning, you felt the blunt head of him press at your opening, and then Joel pushed inside you. Your mouth parted in a gasp at the intrusion; eyes glazed over in bliss as you felt yourself get split in two around the girth of his cock. He was so big, filling you up inch by inch, a heavy pressure poking at the deepest part of yourself.

“There you go, baby– you jus’ take it. Take all that cock inside,” he grunted, eyebrows pinched tight.

All you could do was moan as you felt him bottom out inside you, “Shit,” you gasped, “So fuckin’ big.”

“I know, baby, you’re doin’ so good f’me,” he praised, starting to rock his hips into you.

He picked up the pace quickly when he was sure you could take it, splitting you open on his cock as he made you takeit. Under him you could feel yourself float away in the pleasure. His hand came up to wrap around your neck and a big smile spread across your face.

You felt so warm. Joel felt so fucking good.

He reduced you to a puddle, a puddle of pleasure and ecstasy. It was better than any drug you’d ever taken. Better than the first day of summer vacation. Better than anything you’d ever known. The sound of skin against skin faded away into a tranquil rhythm of pleasure. You belonged to him now, lived only for him and the way his cock felt inside you.

“Feel how deep that is?” he asked you, somehow having maneuvered your knees to press into your chest.

You couldn’t do anything other than nod, desperate and whiny. You needed to fucking come. Inside you, his cock bumped into a spot no other man had reached before, and a fluttering feeling coiled itself in your core.

You were so close now.

“Joel,” you gasped, searching for the words as he continued his pace, balls slapping hard against your ass.

“No,” he told you, teeth gritted, “You hold it, slut, you hold it ‘till I give you permission.”

Later, a thought of how he’d had you so close to coming without even a tap at your clit would graze you, but in this moment your thought were only filled with Joel. A hand found his bicep, you needed something to hold on to or you’d burst, and squeezed. Above you Joel’s groans and moans got louder.

“Hold it.”

Tears streamed down your face, as you heaved for breath. You were right there, right on the edge now.

Please, Joel, please, sir, please.

“Come.”

Arching your back off the mattress, you shook as you finally tipped over the edge of bliss. The sounds escaping your throat weren’t your own, they were someone else’s, someone possessed with pleasure.

A “Thank you,” fell from your lips, but you don’t think he heard you. Above you, Joel’s movement became more and more erratic, thrusting himself deeper and deeper before a loud groan vibrated through his chest.

“You take it,” he growled, “take all that fuckin’ cum inside.”

He slammed his hips hard against you, pushing himself as deep as he could inside you, and came with a loud primal groan. His cock twitched within your walls as he emptied himself inside your cunt, the warmth of him filled you up as he painted your walls with cum.

“Good fuckin’ girl,” he mumbled, burying his face in your neck, “That cum feels so good inside, don’t it?” he cooed, and you nodded, your hands tangling in his hair. He pulled back and thrusted inside you again, fucking his cum deeper inside.

He stayed inside you as you both caught your breaths. His weight felt good on you, you were safe, as you floated somewhere between reality and a space you’d never been pushed to before.

And you missed him when he pulled away, sliding his half-hard cock from your fucked out cunt, dragging you with him up the bed. You reached for him, laying your hand open against his sheets, but he didn't see it, eyes mesmerized by his spend dripping out of you. His fingers slid through the mess, pushing his cum back inside as his eyes found yours.

Then something in the air shifted, and whatever had come over you, was gone. His fingers left streaks of wetness down the inside of your thigh as he pulled away. For the first time in your life, you didn’t know what to say.

You were ruined now – he’d ruined you for everyone who wasn’t him.

You sat up, turning your head over your shoulder to watch him, watch how his eyes trailed your body.

“Smoke?” you asked, your voice more unsteady than you’d thought.

Joel shook his head as you slung your feet off the bed to find your purse. He sat up against the pillows resting against his broken bed frame. Your eyes raked over his naked body as you fished a cigarette from your packet; drank in his strong arms, his wide chest and followed the dark hair of his happy trail down his belly to his soft cock between his thighs, still coated in your combined cum. Between your legs you could still feel his thick spend leak out of you.

You brought the cigarette to your lips, and just as you were about to light up Joel’s rough voice spoke, “Out the window,” he ordered with a nod in the direction of the window.

Everything was back to how it was before.

A dramatic huff escaped you, “All right…” you muttered.

You felt too heavy– he’d messed with your head; made you show him the real you. He couldn’t see that. So instead, you put your mask back on, turning to face the window to conceal the mischievous smile threating to spill across your face.

“Daddy.”

Behind you, as you cracked open the window, you heard the bed creak. You played it cool, lighting your cigarette and blowing the smoke out the window.

Joel’s breath teased at the back of your neck and over your bare shoulder, making goosebumps dance down your spine, “Thought I’d fucked the attitude out of ya,” his voice was stern.

“Guess I was wrong.”

part two -> here!

i hope someone liked this? a comment telling me your favorite part is always welcome, and my ask box is always open to chat <3 other than that thank you for reading!!

© shellshocklove, 2024 i do not give any permission to repost, translate, feed to AI or redistribute any of my writing, with or without credit!

[theostrophywife]

thinking about theo glaring at you while you argue with him, pouting and crossing your arms about something so trivial. you know that you’re making a scene in front of all your friends, but you didn’t care one bit. this is what theo gets for telling you no.

theo never told you no. you were his pampered little princess, so used to getting his affection and attention any time you wanted it. but now, he was making you wait until after quidditch practice? that wouldn’t do.

so, you put on your tightest crop top and shortest skirt, making a show of chatting up fred weasley out on the field. theo spotted you right away, his jaw clenching as you threw your head back and laughed at whatever that redheaded twat said. it wasn’t long before theo landed beside you, discarding his broom on the grass like it wasn't worth a couple hundred galleons.

your boyfriend shoved fred out of the way and loomed over you. “you’re playing a dangerous game, principessa.”

you huffed, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “you’re the one playing games, theo. fred was only keeping me company because you’re too busy practicing to pay attention to your girlfriend.”

“you’re being a fucking brat and you know it.”

“so?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to glare at him. “what are you going to do about it, theo?”

the taunt didn’t sit well with your boyfriend. without a word, theo dragged you underneath the stands, pressing you against the wooden poles. you squirmed as he caged you in, squeezing your thighs together as theo yanked you by the hair. you whined, pupils dilating from how turned on you were.

“you wanted my attention,” theo growled as his fingers wrapped around your throat. “now you’ve got it.”

you smirked in return, having gotten exactly what you wanted. theo was incensed at the sight of your gloating. “don’t look so smug, bella. i’m going to make you pay for your attitude.”

theo traced your jaw before reeling back and smacking your cheek. you could already see the red handprint bruising your face. the force of it stunned you, but more importantly, it made your core ache, your pussy throbbing and aching for him. your boyfriend smirked, knowing he had the upper hand now.

“open,” he commanded.

you kept your eyes on him as you parted your lips, eagerly awaiting his punishment. theo spit into your open mouth, wet and messy as he claimed you with the degrading gesture.

“swallow,” theo said simply.

shivering at the show of dominance, you did as you were told. theo’s eyes darkened with lust, filled with a hunger that you’ve never seen from him before.

“that’s what I fucking thought.”

theo unbuckled his pants, dropping them around his ankles before roughly shoving your skirt up your waist. your boyfriend gave no warning before he thrusted his cock into your pussy, making you gasp at the sudden stretch. you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as he fucked you roughly against the wood.

“not so bratty now, hm?” theo taunted with a dark chuckle as you whimpered in his ear. you felt dazed as his balls slapped against your ass, rattling your brain from how hard he fucked you. “all that talk and yet you’re bouncing on my cock, fucked dumb and speechless. how pathetic.”

“please, theo — need more —“

“please,” theo said mockingly. “that’s all you had to say, principessa. but you don’t seem to have any manners, do you? so used to me giving you everything you want. maybe i’ve spoiled you too much. you have to learn that some things need to be earned.”

theo pulled out suddenly, making you whine. he shot you a warning look before bringing you to your knees. the carnality written all over his handsome face only made you want him that much more.

“now suck my cock like the good little whore you are and i’ll think about letting you cum.”

[jjunieworld]

THE PLAYER’S GAME ˒˒ 엔하이픈 ❨ 𝓈𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝓂𝖺𝗌𝗍𝖾𝗋𝗅𝗂𝗌𝗍 ❩

─── “there’s no winner in the player’s game. it’s best to know that before it’s too late.”

they say that all is fair in love and war, but how much more can you take? how much more are you willing to take? limits will be tested and they know just what buttons to push until you find out. do be careful of ending up with a broken heart… it’s highly unlikely that they will be there to pick up the pieces. must be read in order for each story to make sense .ᐟ

genre﹙📖﹚⸝⸝⸝ written series, ??? to lovers, smut, a lot of angst, fluff, beach au, summer fling/summer romance, lifeguard!jake and lifeguard!jay, surfer and stoner!heeseung, love triangle, please refer to full genres in each part…

warnings ‎⸝⸝⸝ the boys are very toxic, player!jake and player!sunghoon, fwb!heeseung, jealousy, manipulation and gaslighting, possessiveness, corruption kink, alcohol and drugs (weed), a lot of unprotected sex (don’t do this!), soft dom!jake, mean dom!jay, hard dom!heehoon, please refer to full warnings in each part…

kipo’s note ‎⸝⸝⸝ so surprise!!! a lot of people were asking for part two of meet me at our spot and i’ve granted you a whole written series in return! the updates for these will be slow as i am a slow writer. each part will be long and that will take some time to write, so please don’t rush me. things on this mlist are subject to change as i get more things planned and outlined! i hope you enjoy and remember, do be careful of ending up with a broken heart. all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

∿ [ total wc: 49.5k so far ] ⋆ [ status: ongoing ] ∿ [ continue on to . . . series tag , playlist , masterlist ]

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏YOU HAVE NOW RECEIVED A MESSAGE FROM . . . ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏͏answer now or ignore it?

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

▸ THE TOWN’S RENOWN PLAYER, JAKE SIM.

[ PART ONE: ] MEET ME AT OUR SPOT

with the news of your grandma’s depleting health, life has you moving to your mother’s seaside hometown for the summer to your aunt’s. while there, you meet the illustrious player—jake sim—that everyone can’t seem to stop talking about. what you never expected was to gain his attention and spend the three months you’re there falling for him.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 jungwon, lifeguard!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ angst, smut, fluff, strangers to temporary lovers, beach au, summer fling/summer love, lifeguard!jake, blonde!jake, kindaaa slow burn, h2o jokes references (i had to), slice of life, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies, reader is jungwon’s cousin please check actual post for full warnings!

∿ [ 22k ] ⋆ [ click here to be added to series taglist! ] my permanent taglist will already be added! minors, ageless, and blank blogs will not be added.

[ PART TWO: ] THE SALT UNDER THE SEA

the death of your grandma has you returning back to your mother’s seaside hometown—the same town you left jake in a year ago—for good. now that you’re back, so are the feelings you really desperately wished to leave behind. it doesn’t help that now you’re caught in the crossfire of two guys with a rough past who want to be with you.

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ sim jaeyun x reader, park jongseong x reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 cousin jungwon, bestfriend!jay, player!sunghoon, and oc hana (jake’s ex)

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ exes to lovers, bestfriends to ???, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jake, ex player!jake, bestfriend!jay, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding inaccuracies, love triangle, slice of life, some h2o references, beach au, summer romance please check actual post for full warnings!

∿ [ 27.5k ] ⋆ [ click here to be added to series taglist! ] my permanent taglist will already be added! minors, ageless, and blank blogs will not be added.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

▸ THE ONE WHO GOT PLAYED, JAY PARK.

[ PART THREE: ] JADED DAYLIGHT

synopsis is pending . . .

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ park jongseong x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 surfer and stoner!heeseung, mentions of jake’s y/n, lifeguard!jake, mentions of oc hana

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ strangers to lovers, grumpy x sunshine trope, jay is kinda mean lmao, angst, smut, fluff, lifeguard!jay, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies please check actual post for full warnings!

status ‎⸝⸝⸝ in progress . . . ⋆ wip post

∿ [ 0.0k ] ⋆ [ click here to be added to series taglist! ] my permanent taglist will already be added! minors, ageless, and blank blogs will not be added.

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▸ THE HEAD GAMEMAKER, PARK SUNGHOON.

[ PART FOUR: ] THE ONLY HEARTBREAKER

synopsis is pending . . .

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ park sunghoon x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 lifeguard!jake

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ friends with benefits to lovers, angst, smut, fluff, player!sunghoon, reader treats him as a rebound and he’s -sort of- okay with it, hoon is a real asshole, he fell first and he fell harder please check actual post for full warnings!

status ‎⸝⸝⸝ in progress . . . ⋆ wip post

∿ [ 0.0k ] ⋆ [ click here to be added to series taglist! ] my permanent taglist will already be added! minors, ageless, and blank blogs will not be added.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

▸ THE UNDERCOVER PLAYER, LEE HEESEUNG.

[ PART FIVE: ] NO STRINGS ATTACHED

synopsis is pending . . .

pairing ‎⸝⸝⸝ lee heeseung x fem!reader 𓄵 iηcℓudᥱs 𓈓 lifeguard!jay

genre﹙📓﹚⸝⸝⸝ strangers to friends with benefits to lovers, angst, smut, fluff, surfer and stoner!heeseung, lifeguarding & surfing inaccuracies please check actual post for full warnings!

status ‎⸝⸝⸝ in progress . . . ⋆ wip post

∿ [ 0.0k ] ⋆ [ click here to be added to series taglist! ] my permanent taglist will already be added! minors, ageless, and blank blogs will not be added.

͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏ ͏

∿ [ continue on to . . . series tag , playlist , masterlist ] all feedback and reblogs are welcome! ♡

🏷️ 1﹙ want to be added to my permanent taglist? click here ﹚ @jjunberry @gothgyuu @gyuuberries @beargyuuzz @kittyhyuka @dani-is-tired @riaawr @yeonjunsfox @nxzz-skz @chaconadine @rapmonie2047 @soobieboobiedoobiedaboobie @aaa-sia @jeonghaniehaee @todorokiskitten @onlyhyunjin @un06 @nenesz @branchrkive @dreamiestay @lilyuwon @lilactangerine @kaykay11sworld @kirinaa08 @cherlv @zl-world @cloud-lyy @sunpov @samouryed @immelissaaa @y4wnjunz @who-tf-soddhi @minaateez @jajenoric @americanojake @in-somnias-world @ghstzzn @bobaikeu @cupidscourt @nctsshoes2 @helenngxz @jakeswifez @usnve @won4me @sakanelli-afc

© jjunieworld - all rights reserved. please do not repost on any social media sites, translate, or modify any of my works.

[pawnshopbleus]

On Top

Young!Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Plinth!Reader

Warnings - Smut, Penis in vagina sex, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Abortion is mentioned once, Angst with a happy ending. Not beta read :0

Authors Note - I think this is the first time I’ve written p in v sex so please bear with me.

Standing in front of the door to the Snow residence, you made sure you had everything. The basket you brought over for Coriolanus and his family was filled with food, gifts, and roses for Grandma’am. You wanted to celebrate Coriolanus’s historic win in this year's Hunger Games. Well, Lucy Grey won, but she wouldn’t have done without your Coriolanus. 

Your knuckles tapped the door three times and you patently waited until the door opened to reveal Grandma’am’s signature snow-white hair. She smiled at you and embraced you. She stepped aside and let you enter the home you had become so familiar with over the years. 

“Grandma’am, I wanted to bring this little gift for Coriolanus’s big win. The flowers are for you, by the way,” you winked and placed the basket on the table. “Speaking of, where might he be.” 

Grandma’am's eyes softened at your comment. “He’s with the dean,” she said, “He will be here any moment. You can wait for him in his room if you’d like.” Grandma’am rushed over to examine a particularly pretty white rose. 

You sat on Coriolanus’s bed tracing hearts on his pillow for what seemed like hours before his door opened. He looked frantic as if someone found out something they weren’t supposed to find.

“Come on, Coryo, you’re supposed to be smiling. Lucy Grey won. Aren’t you happy?” 

“I cheated,” he sighed. 

Your heart stopped. He what? Never in a million years did you think that he would do such a thing. With strong women like Tigris and Grandma’am raising him, you would have thought that he had the decency to break up with a woman before he did that.

Coriolanus shook his head as soon as he realized that you might have been taking his comment in the wrong way. “I cheated in the games. Not on you. I would never do that.” 

Your body relaxed and then it shot back up again. “Wait, what do you mean you cheated in the games? Is that even possible?”

Coriolanus explained what he did in order to get Lucy Grey to win. The compact mirror that used to belong to his mother had been packed with rat poison, poisonous to anyone who came in contact with it. He also put his father's handkerchief which was covered in Lucy Grey's scent in the snake's cage. If the snakes were familiar with her scent then they wouldn’t kill her. So it wasn’t her singing that saved her, it was Coriolanus. 

“What are they going to do to you?” Your eyebrows scrunched together with worry. You couldn’t lose Coriolanus for his stupid, yet chivalrous actions. 

“I don’t know yet. I don’t want to think about the future. Right now, I want to live in the moment with the prettiest girl in all of Panem.” Coriolanus smiled at how your face heated up so quickly, but deep down he was hurting. He knew what his punishment was. Twenty years of service as a peacekeeper in the Districts. He would leave the Capital and everything he’s known since he was a baby. That he could deal with, but losing you would be the hardest thing he would have to deal with. 

He knew that you would run to your father and beg him to get Coriolanus out of serving, but he didn’t want you over-exhausting your father's resources. He was a big boy and he needed to learn how to deal with his consequences. He would be fine. After all, Snow lands on top.  

He wanted to live in this moment with you. He wanted to memorize every inch of your body. He wanted to hold onto that memory and make it last. 

Your smile calmed him. “Can I kiss you?” he asked, eyes focused on your lips.

You nodded your head and smiled into the kiss. It was soft and sensual, vastly different from the kisses that the two of you usually share. Your lips brushed together as your bodies got closer to each other. By the time the two of you broke apart, you were under him, his forearms caging you underneath him. There was no need for him to do that. This is where you wanted to be, with Coriolanus. The toxic and tyrannical world that you lived in was long forgotten as she swooped in for another kiss. 

His lips traveled down to your cheek, then your jaw, and settled on your neck. He spent the majority of his time kissing and nibbling at the skin on your neck. There would be pretty little marks on your skin later, reminding people that you belonged to him. Coriolanus doesn’t remember when he got this territorial, but he sure loved the fact that Strabo Plinth’s beautiful daughter was his girlfriend. His girlfriend to mark and fuck and love whenever he wanted (with your consent of course.) 

You laughed as Coriolanus licked the sensitive patches of skin that he nibbled raw. “My parents are going to kill me when they see what you’ve done.” 

Coriolanus kissed your lips one more time in response to your comment. He then resumed his exploration of your body. His hands traveled down to the hem of your shirt, lifting it up to reveal the bra that he unclasped in less than five seconds. He threw it on the floor of his bedroom, letting it get hooked onto the pile of books in the corner. 

Coriolanus kissed in between the valley of your breasts. He flicked his tongue over your sensitive nipples. It was cold in the Capital of Panem and unfortunately, the Snow’s didn’t have indoor heating. Maybe it was because they didn’t want to melt. 

You sighed in pleasure as Coriolanus continued to explore your breasts. After five minutes of teasing, he began to travel south to the part where you needed him the most. He hooked his fingers into the belt loops of your pants, “may I?” 

You nodded, “Ever the gentleman.”

With your permission, he ripped your pants off of you and threw them on the floor. They were lost in the pile of clothing that had gathered on the floor. Coriolanus had shed some of his clothing as well. His ripped body was adorned in nothing but his white underwear. 

Coriolanus spread your legs apart, “Look at how wet my girl is.” He traced a finger down the cotton of your underwear and slowly slid it up your legs. He wanted to drag this on as much as possible. You let out a grumble of frustration, getting tired of his constant teasing. Coriolanus gave in and got rid of your underwear. 

The same finger that was used to skim the fabric of your underwear was now being used to gather your slick and spread it across your sensitive pussy. You took a deep breath of air into your lungs. The feeling was new, but not unwelcomed. Coriolanus flicked his tongue over your sensitive clit. Your clit was pulsing with need. You needed Coriolanus to drop the act and eat you out like he was a starving man.

“Coriol-” Your word was cut off by a moan as his mouth did exactly what you wanted it to do. Coriolanus delved into your pussy, tracing shapes onto your clit with his tongue. Your back arched off of the bed again. Coriolanus’s fingers teased your hole, trying to find the perfect time to ease into your channel. 

Coriolanus’s fingers weren’t thick, but they were long making it easier for him to tease your G-spot. He fucked his fingers in and out of you as he sucked your clit. You had to bite your lip in order to keep quiet. Your lips were sure to be chewed raw after this, but they would serve as a reminder that you had a man who was willing to do this for you. Many high-society women told stories about their husbands not pleasuring them when they had sex. It sounded like a horrible life to lead, but they were rich and beautiful so they needed to sacrifice something. 

Coriolanus curled his fingers up, letting them knock against your G-spot. He continued to kiss and lick at your clit. You were close. By the way you were clenching down on his fingers, he could tell that the waterworks were coming. Your naked chest rose and fell as you played with your nipples, increasing the pleasure that you felt. Your head fell even deeper into the pillow as a chill ran down your body. That chill eventually led to where Coriolanus was currently still working. He ate your pussy like a starved man, just the way you liked it. 

Without warning, your juices painted Coriolanus’s face. He wasn’t surprised that you came so fast. The last time you had sex was two months ago. You were burning for him and he was burning for you. 

Coriolanus wiped his face with the back of his hand and laughed. That was the first time he had actually made you squirt. It had always been a personal goal of his after Tirgis explained to Coriolanus how a woman's body works. At first, he was traumatized. He didn’t want to have the sex talk with his dear cousin, but when he laid eyes on you for the time, he wanted to do everything Tigris said and more. 

His cock was hard. You could see the outline of it through his white underwear. You would tease him about his tighty whities later. Right now, you were laser-focused on the fact that Coriolanus hooked his thumbs under his waistband and lowered them, exposing his cock to the cold air. His hard cock slapped against his lower stomach. He jerked his cock off, spreading his precum all over his length. He wanted to make sure that it went in as smoothly as possible. The last thing he wanted was to hurt you. 

He lined himself up at your core. He slid his tip up and down your pussy, gathering your slick with his dick before he pushed into you. Your insides welcomed him with little to no problem. The stretch felt good. You were all slicked up and ready for him.

Contraceptives weren’t a problem for you. Coriolanus was always careful and made sure to come somewhere that wasn’t your vagina. You didn’t want to have a kid just yet. First, you wanted to study at the University and travel back to District Two if you were given the chance. Then you wanted to get married. Pereferabbly to Coriolanus, but you didn’t know if that was possible yet. With his fate still undecided, your plans to marry the love of your life dwindled. Besides, even if you were to get pregnant your father would have enough money to get you an abortion

Coriolanus’s head fell forward as he buried his cock in your tight pussy. Two months and he had forgotten how good you felt. Your insides fluttered around him as he bottomed out. 

Coriolanus began to thrust his cock in and out of you. He was methodical with everything he did. Coriolanus set a rhythm as he fucked into you. He fucked you hard and fast. The side of his bed slapped against the wall and his mattress cracked and groaned as he fucked into you. You prayed to the heavens that Grandma’am and Tigris were in a deep sleep. Or that the walls of the Snow residence were thicker than Coriolanus’s cock. 

Coriolanus peppered your mouth with kisses in order to muffle your moans. He kept his pace as he did this. Your breasts jiggled as he fucked into you. Your hands found their way down to your extra-sensitive clit. You circled it with your fingers and moaned in pleasure at the feeling. 

His balls slapped against your ass as his strokes became more deep and labored. He was going to come soon. He needed to come soon. He couldn’t hold on much longer. Two months with no sex had gotten to him. “Fuck,” he said under his breath as your pussy clenched around him. “Where do you want it?” He asked, his voice was strained from trying to keep his composure. 

“Inside me,” you said. You were close too, the feeling of your finger frantically rubbing your clit and the feeling of Coriolanus's cock buried deep inside of you spurred your orgasm to come out from the woodwork.  

You have come a second time, your pussy fluttering and squeezing Coriolanus cock that was still inside of you. A string of curses fell from Coriolanus’s lips as he came inside of you. His pulsing and throbbing cock pushed his come deep inside of you as he continued to fuck you as he came. His thrusts were slow but intentional. He would have lasted a few more seconds, but with the way that your pussy squeezed his sensitive cock, he came instantly. 

Coriolanus slowly eased his cock out of you. The both of you were breathing heavily as Coriolanus went to grab a towel from his closet. He eased your legs open one more time as he cleaned you up. He was slow and gentle with it. He knew that you were still sensitive after two orgasms.

His come eased out of you and onto the towel. The sight almost caused him to get hard, but he didn’t feel like tiring you out even more. 

Once he was done cleaning you up, he tucked you into his chest and covered the two of you with the blankets on his bed. He kissed your forehead and your cheek. Coriolanus’s love language was kissing. He loved kissing you. He loved doing anything with you, but kissing was his favorite. 

Your eyes closed, but you weren’t falling asleep. Not yet. Sex might have been a clever distraction, but now that you were coming off your high you needed to know what will happen to the future of your relationship. 

“Coryo, what is going to happen to you? I know that you know what your punishment is. I'm not stupid.” 

Coriolanus sighed as he tried to keep his voice from waving. He rarely cried, but in moments like these, he did. Just you and him shielded away from the rest of the Capital were his favorite. “Twenty years as a peacekeeper.” 

You let out a shuddering breath as you tried not to cry. Your body ran cold as you repeated those words in your mind. Twenty years as a peacekeeper. Twenty years without your Coriolanus. Your Coryo. 

“My dad can-” 

“No,” Coriolanus said. “I don’t want your dad to get me out of this one. I need to learn how to do things on my own.”

“What if I had a crazy elaborate plan to get you out of it?”

“Nothing could be crazier than this.” Coriolanus got this crazy idea. It has been sitting in the back of his mind ever since you agreed to be his girlfriend. “Marry me?” 

This isn’t how he wanted to propose to you. He had already gotten your father's approval months ago. You were perfect for him and you deserve a perfect proposal. He wanted to take you to a fancy restaurant, get down on one knee, and ask you that way. Traditional and expected of Capital people, but things never go as planned when you’re a Snow. 

“Seriously?” You were in disbelief. Of course, you wanted to marry him, but this all seemed a bit rushed. “I mean, yes, I’ll marry you, but Coryo. You’re about to leave.” Then, your brilliant mind comes up with the perfect plan. 

You’ll marry Coriolanus, making him one of the heirs to the Plinth fortune. Thus making him more valuable to the Capital. This way you get to marry the love of your life and keep him within arms reach. Were you being possessive? Maybe, but it was better than the dean having to deal with an angry Plinth. 

And your plan worked. You and Coriolanus got married a week after he proposed to you. It was a bit rushed, but the two of you were ready. He was going to be a loving husband, and you, a loving wife. Coriolanus’s punishment would be reduced to two months of training in District Two. He would then return to the Capital as a peacekeeper. He would keep the peace during the day and return to you at night. 

Turns out Snow does land on top.

---------------------

Time to study up on straight people sex!

[gojotojis]

When the Party’s Over pt.3

Part 1 Part 2

summary: you and sukuna are now dating, only you’re keeping it a secret but secrets eventually come out.

pairing: college! sukuna x college! fem reader

content MDNI: slight angst ?, bestfriends brother, frenemies, secret romance, soft sukuna, squirting,oral (m receiving) , unprotected sex, vaginal sex, riding, cum eating, fingering, fluff, aftercare, dacryphillia, oral choking, praise kink, overstimulation

This ended up being so fluffy, pls don’t beat me up. Soft sukuna just has me in a chokehold! Also this is my favorite smut I’ve written thus far!

Choso insisted on you coming over for a John Wick marathon, of course Yuki was there, which you didn’t mind. Yuki’s actually really nice to you and her music taste is so similar to yours, you’re constantly making eachother playlists and sending eachother songs you think the other would like. You’ve never had a girl friend so it’s nice.

You sit on the couch next to Yuji whose eyes widen everytime John fires his gun, while Choso and Yuki sit cuddled up on the other side of the sofa.

You have to admit, Johns incredibly sexy. You’d happily sit through four movies soley about him but your eyes keep drifting towards the stairs.

All you want to do is crawl into Sukunas bed and sleep but you can’t. You’re scared for Choso to find out, scared that it’ll ruin your friendship. Sukuna doesn’t care, he doubts Choso will give a shit and maybe he’s right but you’re not ready.

You and Sukuna have only been dating for three months now and you love being in your own little bubble with him. You also love the thrill you get from sneaking around, the way he sneaks you into his house after hours just so you can fall asleep on him.

You’re not sure the separation anxiety you feel is healthy, he’s the only thing on your mind, the first thing you think about when you wake up and the last thing you think about when you go to sleep. He’s your first boyfriend, your first everything and you hope he’s your last.

It feels so good to be utterly obsessed with someone and them to reciprocate it. It’s also a rush knowing your boyfriend hates everyone but you, that he’s mean in public but when he’s alone with you, he’s on his knees telling you how much he loves you.

You feel like you’re going insane, you need to feel his skin against yours. You’re never not clinging to him like a monkey, making him carry you everywhere. You’re just so obsessed with him, it makes you want to rip your hair out, definitely not healthy but you don’t give a shit.

You anxiously start eating the popcorn Yujis holding, fighting the urge to run up stairs and tackle Sukuna. This is different, so different, whatever you felt for Choso doesn’t come even a fraction close to how you feel about Sukuna.

“I’m so tired,” you fake yawn, stretching your arms up and Yuji scoffs.

“It’s only been an hour,” he says and you yawn again for emphasis.

“I had such a long day, I’m sorry guys,” you say innocently and Choso shakes his head. “Just go to sleep in one of the guest rooms, I can take you home in the morning,” he says and you nod standing up.

Yuji looks at you suspiciously but all you do is offer an apologetic smile before you’re climbing up the stairs. Your fingers wrap the handle to Sukunas door and open it. He’s sitting at his desk, engrossed in a game of call of duty while he curses out someone on his headset.

You lock the door and peel your clothes off till you’re naked. You pull your hair from its ponytail and let it fall to your hips before you walk toward him. He looks to you and then back to the screen before looking at you again with wide eyes and you giggle.

“I gotta go,” he says over the headset.

“We’re about to fucking win!” you hear someone yell at him as you turn the chair to face you. You climb onto his lap and reach for his hand as his teammates scream at him through the headset.

He watches you take his hand and press his fingers against your pussy, covering them in your arousal before you lift them to your mouth and lick them. He throws his head back and closes his eyes.

“I really gotta fucking go,” he says before closing the game, and the shouting stops. He quickly removes his headset and sets downs his controller.

“Hi,” you smile innocently.

“Hi baby,” he breathes before his lips find yours. Your lips brush and tongues lap against eachother. His hands slide over the curve of your waists and up to your tits. His large hands splay across them and he squeezes them hard.

“Does my good girl need some attention?” He asks, his tongue licking the sides of your breasts and you nod.

“How bad?” He asks, rolling a nipple between his fingers as you grind down against his bulge.

“Really bad,” you say creating a bouncing rhythm. He can feel the wet patch you’re making on his crotch. Your fingers reach for the hem of his shirt and he lifts his arms up, letting you take it off.

You’ll never get tired of his body, the ridges, the muscles and the defined v at his hips. Your nails graze his abs before they start tracing over the tattoos on his arms. His body is hot to the touch, and he shivers under your cold fingers.

“You gonna ride me?” He asks. You’re a pillow princess, you love just laying down and taking it while he does most of the work but you’ve never done that before, yet it sounds dirty and you like it.

“Yes,” you say confidently. You’ve only ever done missionary, he knows it’s your favorite, it’s just so intimate, being able to see his expressions and watch where your bodies connect as he fucks into you.

He knows he’s gonna be helping you by the end of this but he pats your ass and you sit up, letting him slide his pants off and his cock springs free. Your mouth waters at the sight and you slide down to your knees.

Your hand wraps around it and he hisses. You watch the way his abs contract when you spit repeatedly on it till it’s nice and sloppy, just how he likes it. You press several kisses to the tip letting precum smear against you lips, teasing him before you lick up the sides.

He groans as you feel the veins against your tongue. He stands up so he can get a better look at you when he slowly inches his cock into your mouth. Your mouth widens as you breathe through your nose like he taught you, tears gather in your eyes, looking up at him until his dick is pressed against the back of your throat.

“Gonna fuck the shit out of this mouth,” he groans and your pussy throbs. His fingers thread through your hair and slowly pulls out of your mouth before plunging back in. His dick is so fucking warm in your mouth, he groans when you lick the underside. He starts thrusting into your mouth, not breaking eye contact as he watches you cry and it turns him on so fucking bad watching the tears flow down your cheeks.

You’re gagging on his dick, your hands gripping his thighs praying nobody can hear you choking.

“So good for me baby,” he grunts, forcing more down your throat and your eyes widen but you try to relax. He’s buried in your throat, your nose touching his pelvis. He thrusts in out, beating the back of your throat, saliva smearing all over your face and dripping onto your chest.

Your fingers find your pussy and you force your middle and index finger inside of you, desperate for a release as you bounce on your fingers. Your mouth cries against his cock, and it’s enough that he’s pulling out. He watches you fingering yourself and loses it, cum hits your face in thick ropes and then your chest, you fingers leave your cunt and you swipe the cum off your lips, sucking them off before you stand up and push Sukuna back down into the chair.

He watches you glide your fingers over your nipples, scooping up cum before you swallow it. You’re a fucking freak, not even close to what he dreamed of, but better.

You straddle him as he leans back, letting you take control. You grip his cock and line it up at your sopping hole. Your eyes close as you slowly sink down onto it, the stretch one of your favorite parts.

Little tremors hit you as your pussy swallows him until your ass is flush against his thighs. He’s so fucking deep, you think you might cum if you move. His full attention is on you, hands gripping the arms of the chair.

You pull up, feeling his cock slowly leave you before you bounce back down. You moan as quietly as you can as you bounce up and down his cock. This feels so good but it’s so much work, work you’re not use to and you look at him with those big doe eyes. He was waiting for this.

“Help me,” you whisper and his hands slide to your ass, lifting you up and slamming you down on him, hard.

Your teeth sink into his shoulder as he slams you up and down his cock over and over, sweat starts to coat your body and your tits bounce with each thrust. You hear gunshots downstairs from the tv, praying they don’t hear Sukuna drilling into you.

“The sweetest fucking pussy,” he grunts as you grind against him, you feel your stomach knot and your pussy clamps as he batters your cervix. You start to shake against him and liquid gushes from your cunt but he doesn’t stop, he never does.

He fucks into you like he wants to touch the tip of your skull, your head lulls to the side, tongue sticking out as you gasp for air feeling your boyfriend demolish your cunt until you’re squirting again and dripping down his thighs.

“Too much ngghh, too much Kuna,” you cry when his thumb rubs at your clit and your eyes roll back. His mouth finds yours and he swallows your screams as you cum together, feeling him flood you with his seed.

You slump against him as he carries you to his bathroom. He turns the shower on and steps inside with you still wrapped around him. You whine when he lifts you off of him and sets you on your feet, your knees are wobbly as he reaches for your pink loofah and lathers his body wash onto it.

He begins scrubbing your body while you turn your face so the water hits it, washing away his cum. You reach for your face wash you left and start massaging it into your face as he gets on his knees.

You shiver as he gently washes your sore and abused pussy. He press’s kisses against your belly as you grab his rag and pour body wash on it. He stands up and you start scrubbing him, at least the places you can reach till he has to take over.

Once you’re done and he’s dressed you in his clothes, you climb on top of him in bed, resting your head on his chest.

“My little spider monkey,” he calls you, the way you cling to him. You look up and smile before kissing his jaw as he scrolls through Netflix.

You all but squeal at the smell of fried food, the flickering multicolored lights and the sound of screaming. You fucking love the fair.

Sukuna fucking hates it, he hates the screaming and the guaranteed vomiting. He still hasn’t forgiven you for throwing up on him in the Gravitron once the ride ended when you were twelve and him fourteen.

In your defense you housed about six funnel cakes, a super size coke slushee and eight fried Oreos that day before you got on the ride. You learned your lesson that day.

Even though he hates it, it’s the smile on your face that makes it worth it as you lace your fingers together and walk around.

You immediately guide him toward the flying swings, the tendant scans your wristbands and you take the seat infront of Sukuna as more people get on.

Sukuna waits for what he knows is coming, he listens to you burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. You laugh manically when you ride rollercoasters and etc, people look at you like you’re deranged while you laugh like the Joker.

It’s fucking hilarious as you look back at him. He can’t help but laugh at the way his girlfriend sounds like a fucking maniac. Even when the rides over you’re clutching your sides laughing. It’s the adrenaline no doubt.

You spend the night riding almost every ride, nearly breaking your neck on the bumper cars when some kid drove straight into you until you were slammed into the wall. Sukuna threatened to kick his “little ass” out the car and he broke down crying which ended in you both banned from the bumper cars.

“He was a pussy,” Sukuna huffs as you lick at your Icecream cone.

“Baby, he couldn’t have been older than eight,” you say and he shrugs leaning down to lick your Icecream. He watches you take a bite with your front teeth and stops walking.

“Only psychos eat Icecream like that,” he says making you laugh.

“Congrats, you’re dating a psycho,” you say taking another bite until your eyes land on something.

Sukuna clutches his ears as you threaten to burst his eardrum with your screaming.

“Fuck!” He says loudly with his finger in his ear. You ignore it as you finish your icecream and tug him toward the booth full of Sanrio plushies. “I want them all,” you say to the worker and she hands you a basketball.

You look down at it with a frown as she points to the hoops behind her. Sukuna hands her money as you toss the ball, watching it bounce off the rim.

You have two more shots and she hands you a ball, you throw it and miss. Sukuna can tell you’re getting frustrated with the way your hands form into fists.

He walks who behind you as you take the last basketball. He presses his hand flat against your stomach and the other one stretches out behind your hand that holds the basketball.

He pulls your joined hands back and lifts you up with one hand so you can throw it and it makes it through the hoop.

“I did it! I did it!” You jump up and down, technically you both did but he doesn’t care to correct you.

“That’s cheating,” the worker says arms crossed.

“Give her the fucking toy,” Sukuna says making the girl get up and walk to the wall of plushies.

“Which one baby?” He asks and you point to a giant My Melody one dressed up as a watermelon, she hands it to you. The things nearly the size of you as you hug it, you beam up at him as he holds your hand.

He brings your joined hands up to his lips and kisses the back of your hand as you walk around. There’s two rides you haven’t gone on yet, the Ferris wheel and the Gravitron.

Sukuna absolutely refuses when you walk him toward the Gravitron. You actually feel bad that you gave him childhood trauma because he plants his feet to the ground and doesn’t budge no matter how hard you pull.

“Please Kuna, we can stand on opposite ends of the ride. I promise I won’t throw up on you,” you beg but he doesn’t budge. You sigh and look down at the ground, like a kicked and dejected puppy.

“You’re fucking annoying” he sighs, pressing a kiss to your temple and grabbing your hand. You smile, leaving your plushie with the machine operator as you both step inside. You giggle as he leans against the wall two mats over.

Everyone gets in and the ride starts, you feel the pressure of the zero gravity at work as your body’s stuck against the wall. The machine ride spins, Sukunas watching you and the expression your face makes. You’re not laughing, not even close.

You feel sick, absolutely sick and dizzy. Your eyes squeeze shut until the ride ends and you’re running out. You lean over the railing, prepared to vomit as you take several deep breaths. Sukuna rubs your back and holds your hair but luckily nothing comes up.

“You’re never going on that ride again,” he says and you nod, you can’t help but laugh once the queasiness leaves you. “You should’ve seen your face, you thought I was going to throw up on you,” you say, pretending to puke on him and he glares, carrying your plushie.

“You’d be walking home if you did,” he says and you roll your eyes knowing damn well he would never let that happen.

You stop him and stand on your tippie toes, pulling him down for a kiss. You smile against his lips, you’ll never get tired of this.

You rest against his chest as you both stare at the tv.

“So he calls her baby girl and she calls him chocolate thunder but they’re strictly platonic?” He asks and you nod laughing as you watch criminal minds.

“You’re into some freaky shit,” he says making you sit up so you’re straddling him. You push your ass against his dick and smile.

“Very,” you say before you lift your shirt up, revealing your bare chests. He sits up and starts kissing you, oblivious to the feet running up the stairs until his doors being slammed open. You scream and climb off of him, clutching your chest.

Your face reddens, the urge to cover it but your hands are hiding your tits. He moves to block your body and hands you back his shirt. Yuji and Choso’s faces are burned into your brain as you slip the shirt on. You don’t lean over Sukuna, terrified.

“What the fuck!” You hear Choso say and you slightly peak over Sukunas shoulder.

Choso storms out of the room and you jump out of the bed.

“Choso wait!” You say as he jogs down the stairs and out the front door.

You walk back to the room to see Yuji sitting next to Sukuna giving him a fist bump.

“No way you bagged y/n, She’s pretty bad,” Yuji says and you slap the back of both their heads.

You sigh pushing your food around. It’s been a week and Choso doesn’t answer your texts, he doesn’t sit with you at lunch and he switched seats in the classes you share so now you’re forced to sit next to Mahito who you hate.

“Has he said anything to you?” You ask Sukuna as he steals one of your fries.

“Nah, he’s been staying over at Yuki’s. Who cares anyways” he says eating another fry until you’re pushing your tray towards him.

“I do and you should too, he’s your brother,” you say and he sighs.

“So what do you want me to do, I can beat him until he talks to you,” he offers genuinely, you try not to laugh at his violent and insane behavior.

“No, but I told you this would happen,” you say and he shrugs, holding a fry up to your lips until you eat it.

“Good girl,” he says as Yuki sits infront if you making you sit up. You’re prepared for her to yell at you but she doesn’t.

“I know Choso’s being stubborn, he told me everything. It’s really not his business on what you two do with eachother which I expressed so now he’s not talking to me,” she says taking a fry.

“He’s being a fucking diva,” Sukuna says making you laugh at him using such a word. “Break up with him and see how fast he comes running,” Sukuna concludes. The idea sounds absurd but Yuki’s pulling her phone out and tapping away at the screen.

“Oh you guys are cruel,” you say and she hits send.

“So what exactly is this?” She asks, pointing between you two.

“We’re dating, three months now,” you smile, being able to say it so openly feels nice.

“Oh that’s pathetic,” Sukuna says as Choso enters the cafeteria and walks towards your table. He holds his phone up at Yuki.

“Are you serious?”.

“What use is a boyfriend that won’t speak to you?” She asks and you take notes. She’s so nonchalant about it, serves him right.

“Fine, you want to talk let’s talk,” Choso says taking the seat between you and Yuki.

“You’re fucking a guy that told you the only jobs you’d get were either on a pole or your back and you’re fucking a girl that prayed to God for three weeks that you would catch Syphilis,” he says, Yuki covers her mouth to conceal a laugh.

“Well, she only does one of those jobs and I’m syphilis free,” Sukuna says and you pinch his ass through the opening in his chair making him squirm.

“He fucking hates you and you just…spread your legs for him?” Choso asks making your breathing hitch.

“Shut the fuck up, and choose your nexts word wisely,” Sukuna warns.

“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t get it, you’ve been lying and fucking my brother. It’s weird, and what’s suppose to happen when it’s over?” He asks.

“Nothing, because it never will be,” Sukuna answers, seemingly bored of this conversation.

“Choso, you’re my bestfriend and you always will be but what I do and who I do it with is my choice. I’m not sorry that it’s Sukuna or that I love him. But I am sorry that you feel the need to be mean and avoid me. When you got with Yuki, I accepted it. It’s caused us to make adjustments to our friendship that I’ve happily complied with, there’s no reason you can’t do the same,” you say with a level head and he nods.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt,” he sighs and you smile.

“I promise you, your brother takes good care of me,” you assure.

“In every aspect,” Sukuna adds making Choso cringe and Yuki laugh.

“This conversations boring me, come home and stop being a bitch” Sukuna says.

“Fine but no more sex jokes, and please lock your fucking door” Choso says.

“Fine, now beat it. I need a word with my girlfriend “ Sukuna says making Yuki and Choso dip. He pulls your chair toward him and leans in till your forehead is pressed against his.

“You love me?” He asks and you nod.

“I love you more than I ever hated you, so much fucking more,”.

I know some of you wanted Choso’s reaction, I rewrote it so many times but I honestly don’t think he cares that much. He has no romantic feelings for her. But I do think the idea of her and his brother who is an absolute ass would seem quite disturbing.

Also she’s not pregnant! Thank y’all for the endless support on this. Gojo Tinder piece coming up next!

@whosmarjj @getoxmahito @xra1 @swoozleee @lillycore

@carefree-flowerchild

[wandixx]

Danny, the Young Justice member snippet nr 3 GIW made a lot of mistakes and the biggest one was going against Young Justice part 1

As you can see by the title (I need better ideas, you're all welcome to share yours), this is kinda part of "Danny, the Youg Justice member" but as something I have more of actual idea about. So while I encourage people adding their stuff to other snippets, please let this one be. I will be adding to it. It's even partially written :D

unrelated snippet nr 1, unrelated snippet nr 2

"Hey guys" Danny greeted clearly winded, phasing through the wall. Whole Team turned towards him, some giving him a side eye “Sorry I’m late” 

“You’re good, my dude” Wally answered, patting him on the back as soon as halfa landed, turning into his human form. They gave him a moment to catch his breath(just how fast he tried to fly there?) before grabbing their bags. Dick jumped and threw himself over the speedster's and halfa’s shoulders.

“Happy Harbour, we’re coming!” he yelled.

He fixed his grip when he caught Danny’s quick wince under the pressure as they left the headquarters. Judging by look on his face, Kaldur caught it too.

“So what’s on the agenda?”

“There is an amusement park in city, so we’re going to enjoy our free time there” M’gann explained with excited smile “I can’t wait to see it, I heard it’s fun”

Artemis nodded with a grin.

“I bet I can win more plushies than all of you. No powers,” she demanded after a moment, slamming her hand n a random tree for better dramatic effect.

“Stakes?” he asked, competitive like always. While blonde shared her idea of ‘no locker room duties for a month’, Danny explained all the questions M’gann asked about what even bet was and what stakes meant. Dick was sure she knew the answers to all of them but he didn’t say anything. He was trained well enough to catch Conner listening intently, despite his clear effort to hide it.

It turned into a whole Team competition.

It was going to be an aster.

***

M’gann was having a blast. Everyone already had two to four plushies, stomach full of unhealthy food and manageable nausea from the roller coaster. Wally and Danny were throwing popcorn to each other's mouths, Robin challenged Conner and Artemis to the next game. It really was fun just like she was told!

It was much less fun when literal blast shot a few feets away from them. Ground where it hit was burned. Halfa squealed, projecting a strong wave of distress. Without second thought he threw his hood on and changed his posture, frantically looking for a hiding spot.

Few children started crying, their families scrambling to get away before attackers started shooting again and hurt them. Workers, already used to working in less than ideal circumstances, quickly, but without panic warranted by recognised villains or outright invasion, shut down reinforced blinds and probably walked out to inform someone. At least they didn’t have to worry about potential civilian casualties. 

“Do you know who they are?” M’gann asked, quickly establishing the Mindlink.

“Don’t worry about it” he answered, putting on crazy big sunglasses that Wally won some time before.

“My dude, we just got shot at. We have every right to worry”

“Calm down, Wally. I got shot at, you’re just close by. I’ll handle it” With a ruffle of his hair and a piece of popcorn thrown in his mouth,he turned around, just moment after the next blast almost caught his arm. He plastered a smile on his face.

“Hey, I’ve seen guns like these in laser tag! But I’ve never found them cheap enough to get without selling my kidney!” he yelled enthusiastically.

When the rest of them turned around, M’gann saw ten people in sunglasses and pristine white, holding guns straight from the mad scientist’s lab. THey stood still, projecting surprise bordering on shock. She could also feel hunter's happiness underneath it, intense enough that she considered breaking the ‘don’t mess with people’s brains’ rule. As a treat.

“Don’t worry guys, they won’t harm you. Act like you  don’t believe you’re in danger. Like they're a bunch of LARPers or something” It was easier said than done, especially when Danny, who nearly always underestimated the danger, was so terrified. 

“Who are they?!”

“Wally throw me a bit of popcorn, please” Halfa asked, ignoring Artemis almost yelling in their minds. In turn, he was ignored by the speedster. Three of the men turned to check something on weird sort of scanner. Danny's false smile went from cheerful to embarrassed. 

“Dang me and my poor communication skills” he said, loud enough for men to hear but not enough to sound like he was talking to them, before asking louder “I meant to ask, where have you brought it and how much does it cost?”

This seemed to actually shake men out of their shock. They got furious.

“You won't trick us this time, ghost scum” one of the guys with a scanner snarled. Danny pursed his lips in childish gesture of displeasure.

“Rude much” he muttered as if he wasn’t shining with terror like a lighthouse. Robin perked up as if something got him curious.

“Wait, ghost? What do–”

“What are you cosplaying?” Artemis blurted out. Men got visibly angry but Danny smirked.

“Don't antagonize them,” Kaldur commended. 

“If shit goes south I'll get you out of there, half a second flat” Wally offered.

“Thanks dude. Good job Artemis, they hate to be treated like a joke they are” halfa praised but out loud asking:

“Ghostbusters? No, they had different uniforms. But who else got a thing for ghosts?”

“Quit joking around, we caught you Phantom! You ran far from Amity Park but-”

“Who is Phantom?” Robin interrupted rudely (they deserved to be rude to them).

“Where is Amity Park, Utah? Cali?”  Conner asked, adding fuel to the fire of chaos with barely contained glee. He liked messing with anyone even slightly resembling Kadmus staff and these guys marked almost all of the boxes.

“Illinois” provided chubby man who looked and felt like he didn't want to be there almost as much as they teens did. Danny relaxed slightly.

“Agent W you have no clearance to share this information“

“You were in Illinois and didn't tell me, Tommy?” M’gann finally spoke, jokingly punching his arm.

“I wasn't, I swear! I've never set a foot outside of this state in my life!”

“Quit messing around, you freak!!!” the guy, with the biggest ego and probably the leader, screamed.

“Can I please mess their heads up?”  M’gann asked, pushing hope through Mindlink as hard as she could.

“Again, rude. What did I even do to deserve that?”

“Like you–”

“Operative K, I think they really don't know anything “ Agent W, the nicest out of the batch, interrupted “Maybe it left some ectoplasm on this boy to throw us off?”

“They called you it, Danny” Conner seethed, looking like only Kaldur’s hand on his shoulder was stopping him from punching all of them straight to the sun. M’gann was already reaching for their minds.

“We need to run a scan to be sure. Come here boy”

“Now, who are you?!” Robin got defensive, sliding to shield Danny from asiliants. Conner and Artemis joined him, so clearly furious that M’gann almost retreated from Mindlink. She wasn’t any calmer, it just felt overwhelming to be backed up by five other people.

“It’s classified”

Kaldur took a photo with an obnoxiously loud sound effect. Wally appeared right behind Danny, ready to evacuate him. Artemis barely kept herself from tackling the nearest ‘agent’ to the ground.

“What are you doing, boy?” Operative K splurted, absolutely flabbergasted.

“Calling the police”

“Why?”

“Robin, throw some laws, please”

“Oh, that’s easy,” the boy jumped in gleefully “You assaulted our friend and refused to state why you would have credentials to do so or even who are you. You carry modified weaponry openly in public and I doubt you have a permit, carelessly use it  against minors, endangering innocent bystanders while we’re at it. You disturb public peace. I think that’s enough to get you arrested. Wait you know what, call ‘Supervillain emergency hotline’ instead, this is serious attack”

“Right ahead of you, already calling them”

It wasn’t that big of a problem even if someone tried to qualify this as spam. Young Justice Team was first to respond to all threats in Happy Harbour anyway.

Danny let out a low ‘uuuu’ with a smirk. Someone powered up a gun. Wally slightly raised halfa of the ground, ready to bolt.

“It’s okay young man,” the nice agent started, raising his hands in a placating gesture “We’re searching for a dangerous supernatural entity and may have overreacted. In our defense, Phantom is known to be tricky and we wouldn’t be surprised if it used human disguise to hide from us. Your friend gives off the same type of energy like what we use to track it so we assumed they’re the same. We’re sorry”

“Agent W you don’t have clearance to disclose that to-”

“Operative K, after the last few incidents we have to be more throughout before jumping to assumptions. Agent Gamma wouldn’t be pleased if your temper caused the next scandal,” Agent W look at them again, with a forced ‘warm’ smile “We’re really sorry for bothering you. We have reasons to believe Phantom is somewhere around but don’t worry about it, we will be on the lookout. If you see it, please contact us and we will take care of it” M’gann grabbed the ‘WANTED’ poster from man’s outstretched hand. She barely restrained herself from doing something irresponsible, like turning every man in white into a brainless vegetable.

“Later M'gann”

“But Robin…” she whined before sending a small laugh so they knew she wasn’t serious. She knew that Conner and Danny were anxious about this use of her powers.

Agent’s left and everyone relaxed. Wally put Danny back down and leaned back, jokingly rolling back his arms as if he got tired. Halfa stopped with a loud thump to sit on the ground. He was paler than usual.

Artemis shouted, alarmed.

“That was way too close” he started, aiming for a cheerful tone but missing by a mile “I’m fine, just need a moment to cool down. Sorry for that, guys. I thought I lost them over Ohio”

“That’s fine, personally I don’t care, we knew better than to expect a whole day without something going wrong, but who were they?” Wally asked, already back to eating popcorn.

Danny sighed, so deeply M’gann felt it in her bones even though she didn’t try to read him.

“I think this is the talk we should have in the Mountain”

[bettysupremacy]

idk if you write for finnick.. but could you write something where it’s the beginning of the quarter quell and he can’t find her? Just pure panic as he runs around the cornucopia?

I’ve never written for him before but I love him! idk how I feel about this but I hope truly that u like it.

Icy hot terror is all Finnick feels when the timer hits one. Loud and disorienting, the bang ripples against the water in vibrations that rumble under his feet.

Where are you?

The sun blares disgustingly into his eyes and skin, an obvious manipulation of the gamemakers sick amusement, but he ignores it, plunging into the only water he’s ever dreaded to tread. You’re not in sight. He’d told you to stay away, to swim, to run as far away from the cornucopia as you could. Don’t risk it, he’d shaken your shoulders, listen to me I’ll find you.

The water is warm and gross against his skin. It’s not as refreshing as the district four that he’s familiar with. It’s hot and fake. He comes up gasping for air, letting the terror settle into his bones as he pushes against the current of a manipulated riptide. Katniss climbs the stone so he does too; pushing his feet deeper into the ground with every step he takes. His breathing is labored, jagged as he runs. He can’t find you, but he will. He can’t find you, but he can find a weapon.

The cornucopia glistens in the sun, never lacking the weaponry he’d expected from it. Bows, arrows, knives, he eyes a backpack stuffed with supplies. Could he lug it with him? Probably not. He diverts his eyes to the trident beside him. Perched in its stand, it gleams in artificial sun as the grip molds to his fingers. He squeezes the deadly lifeline.

The sound of metal on metal scrapes behind him. Katniss. He turns quick, flashing the bangle around his wrist tauntingly. “Good thing we’re allies, right?”

She breathes hard in front of him, eyebrows pulling as she pauses in bated confusion. The weapon doesn’t lower. “Where did you get that?”

“Where do you think?” He gravels, quick enough to be considered panicked. “Duck.”

She listens, dropping to the floor hard enough to sting the weeping palms she balances on. The sick squelch of his trident in the fallen tribute is covered by her hands tight over her ears as she waits for the boom. The gong sounds, and then a scream. An unmistakable scream. It settles in his stomach and throat thickly, sweating his already wet hands. You didn’t listen.

“Finnick!” The voice screams. Sobs. “Finnick! Finnick!”

The sound is nightmare-ish. Something the gamemakers could never manipulate that accurately, and deep down he knows it’s the sound you’ll wake him up from if you ever gets out of this arena alive.

“I’m coming!” His feet hit hard against the gravel as he sprints. His breathing dries his throat quick. “I’ve got you!”

“Finnick!”

“I’m coming-“

The moment skids to a halt as he finds you. Trapped in the arms of a larger, broader tribute, you struggle for air as he headlocks you. He considers doing something rash, but Katniss behind you shakes her head. Like she can see it in his eyes. It’s a slow, quiet moment, hunter quiet as she stalks closer. Finnick eyes her wary to give her away.

“We can talk about this.” Finnick rationalizes slowly. “It’s the beginning of the game.”

“So?” His arm tightens around your neck. Your squeak breaks Finnicks heart.

“Finnick.” You strain.

“Give the viewers what they want.” Finn pleads. “A show. You can’t kill her so quick.”

“I don’t see a bargain being made.”

A bargain? It’s the first ten minutes and he stands next to a gleaming cornucopia filled with sharp armory. He could get something better than a simple metal trident. Throwing knives, poison, a machete. Finnick suspects the victor is doing what he pleaded. Giving the audience a show.

“Take my trident!” He nearly crashes, cool demeanor dropping as he watches you tap the man’s arm in panic, your air slowly constricting. “Give me her.”

It sickens Katniss; the ability to kill someone for views. To feed into the capitals agenda. This is a necessary kill, she reasons, this isn’t for her own survival. This isn’t a selfish homicide; this is Rue in the net, Prim on the stage. This is the girl she could save. Katniss’ fingers loosen, letting the elaborate metal fly from her grip. It hits the nameless career in the back. Her target.

The moment slows in Finnicks eyes. Katniss stands far, arms hanging limply at her sides. She stares at him, grateful for the thankfulness in his eyes that eases her burdened chest.

“Y/N.” He gasps as the man falls hard on you. He runs, helping you from under the heavy weight. “I’ve got you now.”

“Finn.” You weep, hands in his as he lifts you. You stumble, crashing into him hard. He hears a sob in his tribute suit. “I’m sorry.”

“I told you to listen to me.” He doesn’t anger, but this feels close to it as he grips you tightly. “I told you to run.”

You heave, greedy for fresh air, but your lungs are infiltrated by the heady scent of salt water. His hand calms the coughs that rake through your chest, guilty for his scolding. It’s a quiet moment in the calamity of the bloodbath, a stolen moment that he can’t afford to prolong another second.

“Cmon,” He eyes you, hands cupping your face, then falling as he looks up to Katniss. “Let’s go find Peeta.”

[chukys-mouthguard]

What if?

Genre: fluff

Word count: 3,229 words

Featuring: matt rempe x female reader

Warnings: drunk guy being an asshole at the bar, aggressive/protective Matt

Note: okay, this is the first thing I’ve written in years, please be kind 😅 I just got a thing for this man now idk…feel free to send in some requests or let me know if you want more to this story? Not sure if it will be a one off or a little series

“Okay, how do I look?” You walk down the hall of your apartment, stopping to pose for Matt so he can give you his stamp of approval. He eyes you up and down, as if he is going to deliver some harsh critique. Your outfit is nothing crazy; jeans, a gray long sleeved bodysuit, black heeled boots, and a small cross body bag. With the New York City weather still chilly out, you figured it would keep you warm along with the alcohol you’d be consuming.

“Beautiful as always. But let’s try and keep the collecting of guys' phone numbers to a minimum tonight huh?” You laughed as you playfully smacked Matt’s arm. Making your way to the fridge to grab your High Noon you’d started sipping on before getting dressed. “Don’t tell me you’re jealous Matthew Rempe.” He shot you a cocky smirk as he leaned on the kitchen island next to you. “Me? Jealous? Never. Because I’m the one in your apartment and not them.” You rolled your eyes as you swallowed down the last bit of seltzer before unplugging your phone from the charger nearby. “Okay Mr. Chauffeur, let’s hit the road.”

You loved having Matt in NYC playing with the Rangers. The two of you had been best friends since you were teenagers, though you’d lost touch a bit once you moved to New York. Matt’s stint in Hartford allowed the chance to slowly reconnect, but having him now with the Rangers was even better. The two of you often spent nights at each other's apartments, going out to dinner, and of course you attended every home game you could to see Matt play.

You’d always had a soft spot for Matt. Sure he was a bit intimidating being practically 7 feet tall, his knuckles cut up or bruised half the time, and a black eye never seeming to catch you off guard anymore. But you’d gotten close enough to see the side of him most people don’t experience. Though you never imagined your relationship being anything more than what it was. Friends, and nothing more than that. But you couldn’t deny the way you had paid attention to how he’d grown into a man. He had outgrown his awkward phase, and you now looked at him and saw him as handsome, not cute or adorable like he was when you were growing up.

You constantly find yourself thinking, what if you weren’t just imagining things? When he spends the night and walks into your room wearing just a towel after a shower. The way he hugs you and lingers longer than just a friend would. The way he takes care of you when you’re drunk. Or nights like tonight, where he’s willing to stay up late to be your designated driver when he’s got an early morning skate and a big game tomorrow night.

Just one day, one day you’d love to kiss him and see what happens. Or flirt a little extra and see if he takes the bait. But you also don’t want to lose your best friend in the process, or be turned down and embarrassed for thinking he’d ever feel that way about you.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?” Matt asks as he puts a hand on the back of your seat as he looks over his shoulder, backing out of his parking space. It’s such a cliche action, but boy does he look good doing it, and your heart certainly skipped a beat.

“The typical routine. Start at Tucker’s. Then move on to 1989. Then finish-“ “At Coop’s?” Matt smirked as he looked out at the road. One hand on the wheel with the other resting on his thigh. He was literally in jeans and a hoodie yet somehow he looked just as good as he does in a suit on game day. “Either that means I go out too much, or you’re finally starting to pay attention when I tell you things.” “Definitely not paying attention, it’s you going out too much.” He laughed as you playfully punched his arm, pulling out your phone to text your friends that you were a few minutes away.

“So Cooper’s closes at 2:30, but I honestly don’t think I’ll last that long. Especially because someone has a big game tomorrow! And I wanna be well rested. So let’s plan for like 12:30/1? Is that okay?” You looked at Matt a bit apologetic, knowing he’d have to be up early for morning skate. But he was always adamant about driving you, no matter what time it was.

“Of course, you know I’ll be here no matter the time. I’ll plan to be at Coop’s around 12:45. I’ll come in to get you too, it’s gonna be cold and dark out. I don’t want you walking to find me.” You put a hand to his cheek as you make a joking pouty expression. “Aww, such a gentleman Matty.” He smiled at your touch, almost leaning into your hand as he looked back at you, “Anything for you. Now go on, I know the girls are waiting. Text me if you need anything, and I mean anything y/n. I’m not that far of a drive.” You let out a sigh as you undid your seatbelt, “Honestly Matt, nothing to worry about, I’ll be fine.” You blew him an air kiss as you exited the car, heading into the first bar of the night. Matt sat and watched you show your ID to the man at the door, waiting until he saw you get inside safely to drive away.

As promised, Matt arrived at Cooper's around 12:45. He was thankful that you and your friends chose to end your nights at a bar that wasn’t too crazy, but also not too crowded that he might be recognized. Just to be safe he threw on a hat to shield his face as much as he could, though the bar was so dark he doubted anyone would be able to make out his face in the crowd.

He handed his ID to the bouncer before making his way inside. He texted you a simple “I’m here”, you would know his typical meeting place and where to go. You were in the restroom when Matt texted, quickly replying “bathroom, be right out” before you sighed as you stared blankly at the wall. The line in the girls restroom always 100 times longer than it was for the guys.

Matt didn’t mind waiting, he checked some scores on his phone. Assuming that the line was long since girls love to use the buddy system when going to the bathroom. He scanned the crowd and enjoyed people watching, nodding his head and smiling softly as your friends gave him a wave from across the bar. He checked the time again, before glancing over towards the hallway to find you pushing past a crowd of girls to exit the restrooms. He chuckled to himself as he saw the frustration on your face, knowing you probably waited 20 minutes just to pee. He started to walk towards you but fell back as he noticed a guy stop you in your tracks.

“Can I help you?” You looked at the man a bit confused, you’d recognized him from the crowd of people, but hadn’t interacted with him much. He was out with a group of guys for someone’s birthday. You only knew that because they mentioned it to you and your friends at least 30 times. Definitely trying to help the birthday boy get laid. “I noticed you’d left your friends, I thought maybe my shot at getting to buy you a drink was gone.” You chuckled to yourself, why does this have to happen in front of Matthew?

“Oh, yeah, I’m actually on my way out. So, maybe another time. Sorry.” You try to excuse yourself but he moves with you, cutting you off. “Oh come on, one more drink isn’t gonna hurt anyone. Or if you want we could go somewhere else, just the two of us and get a drink.” He had a cocky grin on his face as you looked at him in disgust. He was clearly drunk, and wasn’t keen on taking no for an answer. You looked at Matt standing just a few feet away, a concerned look on his face as he wasn’t sure what was going on.

“Look, I’m not interested, okay?” He scoffed as he seemed to be a bit insulted by your comment. “Not interested, you and your friends were dancing right up against our group all night. I saw the way you were eyeing all of us guys, I’d say you were interested sweet heart.” You gagged at the smell of alcohol on his breath as he got closer to you. “Yeah news flash buddy, it’s a small fucking bar. My option was dancing right next to people or on the bar.”

As you tried walking past him to get to Matt, you felt a tight grip on your wrist pull you back, “That sounds hot, can you put on a show just for me?” His hands attempted to grab more than just your wrists but before you could react Matt was already stepping in, pulling the guy away from you and pinning him to the wall by the collar of his shirt. “Don’t you dare fucking touch her like that.”

You were a bit taken aback at the way Matt stepped in. Sure he’d protected you from dumb drunk guys before, but never like this. His jaw clenched as his grip tightened on the collar of the man’s shirt. “And what the fuck are you gonna do about it huh? What are you her little brother or something? Ain’t no way you’re banging a bitch like that.” Matt’s grip tightened on his collar as he pushed him harder into the wall, “what did you just call her?!” His voice louder, drawing a bit of attention, thankfully none yet from the bouncer.

“A bitch, and what are you gonna do about it?” The drunk dumbass laughed in Matt’s face and you knew this wouldn’t end well.

Before you could step in, Matt’s fist connected with the guy's jaw, causing him to stumble to the floor. Before pulling himself together and running off to the restroom.

“Fuck!”

Matt shook his hand as he winced, immediately realizing he fucked up but his anger got the best of him. “Come on, let’s get out of here.” You grabbed his arm and pulled him toward the door. Thank god no one seemed to really notice the altercation that just took place.

The walk to the car was quiet as Matt was still fuming, you simply climbed into the passenger in silence. He gripped the steering wheel tight with his good hand as he peeled out of the parking lot. You sat next to him, studying his face to see when it might be a good time to say something. Blue and purple started to appear across the knuckles on the hand that threw the punch as he let out a large sigh.

“I’m sorry.”

You let out a soft laugh as you rested a hand on his thigh, softly holding his bruised hand, careful not to hurt him. “Sorry for what? You didn’t do anything wrong? You stepped in as I would’ve hoped you would the second that guy put his hands on me. Don’t be sorry for that!” He seemed to relax at your touch, so you kept your hand on his, slowly brushing your thumb over his skin to attempt to calm him down.

The rest of the car ride was quiet, the two of you heading back to Matt’s apartment since he had to be up early for practice. You kept your eyes on him, studying the look on his face, wishing you were in his head to know what the heck he was thinking. He took your hand in his as you two walked through the quiet parking garage, then headed up the elevator.

You knew your way around his place, first going to his room to grab an oversized t-shirt to throw on before heading to the bathroom to take off your makeup. Matt was sweet enough to go out and buy you your own toiletries to keep at his place. Including your makeup remover and even your 4 step skincare routine.

Matt came to join you in the bathroom as you brushed your teeth. He smiled at the sight of you as he leaned against the wall: your hair in a messy bun, his oversized Seattle Thunderbirds t shirt covering you up enough while still giving him a good view of your legs. “What?” You chuckled as you tried not to choke on the tooth paste threatening to fall from your lips. He just shook his head, “Just glad nothing bad happened to you tonight. I’m glad I was there.” He took your hand, his fingers fiddling with yours, “I just kept thinking what if i wasn’t there, I couldn’t handle it if anything would’ve happened.”

You looked at him in the mirror, relief and exhaustion covered his face. “I’m really glad you were there too, but I really hope we don’t end up with a possible scandal on our hands.” You started laughing as you exited the bathroom, Matthew following suit. “New York Rangers rookie Matthew Rempe gets in a bar fight over a girl.” You spoke in a sarcastic newscaster voice as you made your way to the freezer, grabbing a bag of frozen peas to tend to Matt’s fist bearing the proof of his heroic actions at the bar.

Matt chuckled along with you before wincing at the feeling of the cold bag on his hand, “If it happens, so be it, I was ready to knock that son of a bitch out after what he said to you.” You shot him a glare, “Matthew Rempe. Absolutely not, I am not worth you getting in trouble with the team because of a dumb bar fight.” He walked over to you, now the one shooting you a glare. His arms rested on either side of your waist as he gripped the edge of the counter. “Y/n, yes you fucking are.” You shot him a look as he swiftly picked you up and sat you on the island in front of him. A cocky grin coming across his face at how caught off guard you were, gripping his biceps tight as his hands now moved to rest on your thighs. “I’d fight 20 guys at the bar if they put their hands on you and said shit like that guy tonight.” His tone now more serious, his smirk fading as you two stared at one another for what seemed like an hour. The voice in your head screaming at you, this is your what if moment. Take it or leave it, but it may never come again. What if he’s trying to confess his feelings, what if he’s trying to make a move but he’s too scared. What if you just beat him to the punch. What if-

Before your brain could even rationalize a thought or an action, you felt Matt’s lips crash into yours. His hands cupping your face as yours snaked up his neck to grab a handful of his hair. The kiss like fireworks and a weight being lifted off your shoulders all at once. He began to smile into the kiss, before pulling away with a slight laugh.

“Oh yeah, that’s exactly what every girl wants. The guys she’s been dreaming of kissing to pull away laughing!” You rolled your eyes and frowned at him as a look of shock washed over his face. “Been dreaming of kissing huh??? I knew it!” You immediately turned red, covering your face with your hands, though Matt found it extremely cute.

His hands gripping your thighs before lifting you off the counter, “It’s okay, i get it. I’m sure there’s lots of girls out there who dream of kissing me.” “Matt! Shut up!” You laughed as he carried you down the hall into his room, tossing you on the bed while he finally changed out of his jeans and sweatshirt. “Hey, listen…if you’re interested, maybe we could work something out so that you can be the only girl who gets to kiss me from now on. How does that sound?”

You barely heard him, too busy staring as he stood in just his underwear in front of you. Your eyes tracing every detail of him before his laugh interrupted your thoughts. “Damn, one kiss and all of sudden you’re just head over heels huh?” You pull a pillow over your face out of embarrassment as you feel the bed sink beneath his weight. Matthew now hovering above you as he pulls the pillow away from your face.

He brushed some hair from your face as your fingers play with his chain hanging from his neck, “you really want to kiss me and only me from now on?” You blushed as he shook his head laughing at you, “of course you goof! That’s all I’ve wanted for like the last 5 years, probably even longer!” You felt yourself trying to fight a smile, though you were sure your cheeks were bright red, letting Matt know you liked his response.

He laid next to you as you continued to play with his chain, now resting on his chest. His thumb tracing circles on your thigh as you smiled like a dork to yourself, your heart bursting with excitement that all your what ifs had come true.

“So if I agree to this-“ you say up, trying to pull a serious face as you looked down at him. His hands still glued to your thighs, as if he couldn’t get enough of touching you now. “Do I get a cute custom Rempe jean jacket or something to wear to your games? Like I wanna be decked out and I want people to know that I'm the only girl you’re kissing from now on.” Matt rolled his eyes and laughed at your change of tone, as you babbled on and on about your ‘conditions’ should you agree to this. But he loved the thought of you in a Rempe jacket at his games, getting to see afterwards and kiss you like crazy after a big win, to have you be his biggest fan cheering him on every night. Even though you already were, now it would be more special.

“Listen.”

Matt cut you off as he pulled you into his lap, his hand pulling your face to his as he kissed you. This time the kiss was soft, as he took his time to really take in the feeling of finally getting to kiss you and be this close to you. “If you be my girlfriend, I’ll get you whatever jacket you want, I’ll get you the best seats at the Garden for my games, you name it. Just make me the happiest guy ever and be my girlfriend!” You laughed at how he begged like a little kid who couldn’t contain their excitement.

“Yes-“ you peppered his face with a hundred kisses, “Matthew Rempe, I would absolutely love to be your girlfriend.”

[arlestial]

❝lavender haze❞

synopsis : Rin begged Ego to let you assist to one of his training games. But he wasn’t quite fond of your interactions with a certain player..

pairing : Rin Itoshi x genderneutral!reader •— Blue Lock

tw : A mix of fluff and comfort, with the slightest bit of angst (jealousy themes, possessiveness)

word count : 2700~ words

author-note : Hi !!! It's been so long, I missed writing so much... I finally passed my final exams, and I'm now in vacations; I’m going to Austria today. My blog is like- a blue lock obsession at this point lmao but ngl i like it that way. Btw, I’ve seen the movie and I'm just plain disappointed ? It was short asf, and the animation... well, we don't wanna talk about it. Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated :) sorry if it’s bad btw !! Anyway, take care of yourself ♡

A rare, smug smile appeared on RIN ITOSHI’s lips; a smile that immediately triggered his teammates, who looked at each other, dumbfounded. They weren’t used to observe him with such an expression written on his usual stern features; as soon as he left the locker rooms, whispers emerged in the sweaty air, begging for an explanation.

"No way he did," Isagi contested with a frown and a disapproving tone, much to Bachira’s dismay.

"I’ve seen it with my eyes," The other retorqued, "Believe me. He smiled, dude. I’ve never seen him smile before."

"We’re gonna get fired from Blue Lock. I swear— he wouldn’t be happy if it wasn’t terrible. He’s a sadist."

"No worries, my dear Isagi. We’re going to elucidate this mystery together," Bachira replied with a proud smirk of his own; Isagi sighed at his friend’s antics.

"Maybe it’s personal."

"It’s never personal enough for us not to be nosy !" The dual-haired boy nearly gasped, "Our duo is unstoppable."

With more or less desire to intrude Rin’s life, Isagi joined Bachira into a rather quick — and disappointing — mission, to solve the mystery around the cold-hearted guy’s smile, a smile they had the chance to witness.

"Ah. Itoshi asked Ego to let his partner see the next training game. I didn’t know he would be this enthusiastic once Ego accepted."

Anri’s revelation should’ve been a relief for the two men — they wouldn’t be expelled of the program. Thus, Isagi had been surprised and confused when he noticed Bachira’s quiet attitude.

"Aren’t you supposed to be delighted you discovered the truth ?", The raven-haired boy asked, curious, as they walked in the corridor to join their rooms again.

"I didn’t even have time to feel the thrill of the investigation," the other whined.

"At least we know he has a partner. It’s… let’s just say it’s surprising someone like him could ever get someone."

"Someone like me ?"

The sudden third voice scared the two men off, and they jumped. Of course, it was Rin. Always there at the worst moment. Isagi gulped.

"H-Hey, I didn’t mean it like that—"

"What Isagi was trying to say, is that we’re not picturing you as the lovey-dovey type of guy, you know ? Not a good boyfriend or something."

If Isagi could facepalm right now, he would, "Thank you for your help, Bachira, it’s even worse now", he replied in a murmur.

"Who said I couldn’t be the "lovey-dovey type of guy" ?", Rin huffed in his usual cold tone, "and a good boyfriend ?"

"Everyone," the two others responded at the same time. Rin rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"So, y’all just sat down and talk about who could be a good partner or not ? That’s probably why you’re still fucking losers at soccer."

Bachira held Isagi back, amused by his eagerness to show Rin "who’s the real loser between them". Rin walked away confidently, and above all, enlivened by Ego’s answer. He would be lying if he said he wasn’t looking forward to it, the butterflies already flying eagerly in his stomach in anticipation.

RIN ITOSHI’s belly butterflies died in an instant. It wasn’t fair. At all. He had been longing for you since weeks now, months even; he negotiated with Ego for who-knows-long, trying to find a way to make you come to a training game of his — so that he wouldn’t have to search for you in a huge crowd of exasperating, futile, and bland people. And here he was, watching you from afar talking with Isagi Yoichi. He cursed under his breath. This dude had nothing to do with you. He was nothing compared to Rin; a mere guy, with limited soccer skills and knowledge and experience and — why were you talking with him anyway ? When he was right there, waiting for you. The training have haven't even started yet, and playing with Isagi left a bitter taste in his mouth. He threw a hard glare in your direction, which you immediately noticed; you waved at him with a smile, and it nearly made him melt. It would've if he wasn't this upset in the first place. Bachira called for Isagi, and the raven-haired boy returned to the field with a smile. If he could, Rin would definitely wipe the smile off this random guy's face.

RIN ITOSHI tried not to let this affect him. But the prominent and everlasting burning sensation in his chest clouded his mind, making him loose his focus each time his eyes would fall on either Isagi, or you. And god knows how much he had missed you, how he needed to touch you now, to feel your skin just against his — to kiss you endlessly, and his gaze softened by pure reflex as he noticed you were staring at him. He felt guilty, to entertain such hideous resentment towards you, while you were just there for him, as beautiful as the day he left you in your shared apartment to join Blue Lock again after his short break. Was he jealous? It couldn't be. Why would he be jealous of Isagi? He was better than him in everything. Atter 45 minutes, when they all got a short break from the match, Rin refused to say a word. He was always rather quiet - but now, it felt a bit weird. He just stared at Isagi with a cold gaze, and the other boy frowned. When they had to join the field again, Isagi stopped Rin, a hand laying on his shoulder.

"Hey, is everything okay? If it's about the score of earlier, I already said -"

"Look," Rin cut out quickly, his tone slowly shifting to an irritated one, "I don't want to hear your fucking voice."

Isagi's brows were now even more furrowed in confusion,

"What the.. I did nothing bad, dude. If you're upset, that's not my problem. Deal with your childish feelings alone, I don't know."

Childish feelings ? It was deeper than that. Much to Rin's own surprise, he grabbed Isagi's collar, dragging him closer with a menacing look. He didn't know, did he ? How much Rin loved you, how much he required your whole attention. Maybe it was childish indeed, selfish even, to desire to be your whole world. The only one you would ever think about. If he could make you his forever, he would; and at the same time, you had every right to talk to other people, be friends with anyone, you were free after all. But that wouldn’t rub out the aching feeling in his heart, seeing you smile with someone else, having a good time with someone who wasn’t him. Maybe because in the very end, he was scared of losing you. Of you, finally realizing you deserved far better than what he could give you. He was distant, sometimes. He hurt you too much, argued with you on futile things, left for Blue Lock for months, he was a huge mess, and still, you wanted him. It was a mystery for Rin, but he wouldn’t ever complain. He was too engrossed in your love and affection, and somehow, even if he knew it was fundamentally wrong, he’d never wish for you to realize what you truly deserved. Because it wasn’t him. And he couldn’t bare to see you enjoying your life with someone else other than him.

"I’m going to end your pathetic and meaningless existence so quickly you won’t have time to take another breath," Rin spat sharply, "I’ll politely advice you not to approach them ever again — don’t want your disgusting germs to infect them, understood ?"

With these words, Rin yanked him away and joined the field, leaving a widened-eyed Isagi behind him. As soon as the game ended, the whole Blue Lock team began gathering their water bottles, heading to the locker rooms. Rin stayed behind, since he wanted to spend some time with you before your departure. When you both were finally alone, you walked down the stairs, and Rin immediately engulfed you in his arms. One hand was grabbing your side, the other resting on the back of your head, pulling you close. He sighed, inhaling your familiar perfume — it was his favorite, the one he gifted you recently — and pressed a delicate kiss to the crown of your head.

"I missed you so much," He declared, or more precisely, complained, and you chuckled, embracing him just as tightly.

"And I missed you even more," you responded, loosening your embrace to look at him. He could die for this fond look in the depths of your irises. You didn’t have to ask; his hands reached for your cheeks, tilting your head backwards to kiss you gently, yet, eagerly, a pleading for your tenderness. You kissed him back, amused by his move. He was usually the reserved type, especially in public — even if the whole stadium was empty now. Your lips parted to welcome his tongue inside, deepening the kiss even more, a slow dance mimicking his need for you. He kissed your forehead softly when you two broke away from one another.

"What happened earlier ? With Isagi. I thought you were gonna fight."

The question tensed him. Of course you had to bring it up. He stroked your cheek delicately, as if you’d shatter if he wasn’t careful enough.

"Nothing, love, don’t worry. I was just—"

"He told me about it, Rin."

You cut him, and he winced. Ah. That was a problem. He swore he discerned a tint of disappointment in your eyes, but it faded away too rapidly for him to search for it again.

"I thought we said no lies between us."

"I know, darling", he could only mutter. You gently took his wrists, then his hands, intertwining your fingers together.

"Am I not reassuring you enough, Rin ? I won’t ever leave you. Especially not for a guy I just met. You know that."

"More than enough," the memory of your smile and laugh when Isagi cracked a joke made him sigh, "it’s hard to believe sometimes. That’s all."

You nodded; with his lack of self-esteem, how was he supposed to believe you, anyway ? It was a constant fight against the insecurities crawling in the pit of his soul, however, you would never let them win. He suffered enough alone, now that you were there with him, you’d be in the frontlines.

"But it’s still true. I’m lucky to have you, Rin. Maybe one day you’d finally recognize that."

At this moment, he wanted to tell you he was lucky to have you, but he didn’t dare, especially not when he saw you reaching for him again, your arms around his neck. He let himself drown in your arms and comfort, soothed by your heartbeat — at this very precise instant, he swore his heart was beating for you. And if you wanted it on a silver plate, he’d gladly do so.

"I’m sure his joke wasn’t even that funny."

You chuckled, "maybe not better than yours, I must admit."

Not far away, two boys were spying on the scene; their investigation had been more successful than what they ever hoped for, "maybe he’s not that bad, after all."

"I thought he was going to choke me to death."

"Oh, he could."

RIN ITOSHI was a possessive man. Somewhere, he wanted you to rely on him, and him only — to be the only source of your happiness. He never had something to call his; you were the first. And he fully intended you to be the last.

[enwoso]

Hi, I love your writing! I was wondering if you could write a fic where Rooney and Russo are recording there new podcast and they mention a funny story to do with you. With Alessia x reader pairing. You can make the story up but I thought it would be funny

THIRD WHEEL — alessia russo

sorry to whoever requested this as it’s took me so long to actually finish it, but it’s finally here!

navigation

"hello! and welcome back to the tooney and russo show with me y/n l/n, and before you all ask don't worry i'm not stealing vic's job she's just poorly" you said down the microphone, getting yourself comfy in the big chair opposite the couch that alessia and ella were sat on.

"thank god we only have to put up with you for one episode!" ella says rolling her eyes playfully as you gasp, the two bursting into laughter.

"hey!"

"anyways i'm here with two of football most famous friends, alessia russo and ella toone!" you cheered as the two opposite you clapped as well as the people behind the cameras.

"are we the most famous friends?" ella turns asking alessia who shrugs, you clearing your throat to get the brunettes attention back.

"they've just written that on the script to boost your ego" you smile quickly before looking back down to the ipad as the ella starts laughing as does less.

“i’m not lying it’s on here!” you hold the ipad up in there direction showing them, “you really know how to make someone feel good about themselves don’t you, y/n!” ella jokes as you nod you head.

“it’s my speciality — ask lessi i do it on the daily for her!” you say winking jokingly towards less who shakes her head at your silliness.

“whatever helps you sleep at night love” alessia sighs, not wanting to disagree with you knowing the ramble you would go into.

"anyways before we get sidetracked anymore, the fans want to know a bit more about your routine when playing, asking if you find it hard to sleep before a big game?" you read out the question that was on the ipad in front of you.

"speaking on behalf of all three of us here, but we all sleep like babies!" ella says as you and alessia nod in agreement humming.

"yeah what's the saying, can sleep on a camels back" alessia blurts out making you make a confused face, as you mouthed a what to ella who shook her head also having no idea what the blonde had just said.

"that's not a saying babe, you've just made that up!"

"i have not, search it up!” the blonde defended her self as you still looked at her with a confused face trying to understand what she meant from her try at an inspirational message.

“um yeah moving on.. i sleep good all the time to be fair. but do either of you remember the night before the euro final?” you asked them both, ella nodding while less say shaking her head.

“oh yeah, i remember that night. do you not?” ella agreeing with you as she directed the last part of her sentence the blonde sat next to her, who shook her head while mumbling a no into the mic in front of her.

“so obviously we was staying in this really nice hotel, the tottenham hot spur hotel it was i think, and everyone was asleep and um in the night the automatic blinds kept coming up” ella explained as you nodded along.

“i never even noticed to be honest, but i remember you complaining about it in the morning” alessia pointed over to you.

“yeah and i only noticed them because you’d took all the blankets from me and i’d woke up freezing, and then-“ you began as the blonde across you cut you off with a gasp as her mouth went wide open.

“you say this all the time, but i don’t hog the covers!” the blonde said in a defensive tone, ella watching with a smirk on her face at the bickering between the two of you an occasional giggle coming from her.

“how would you know if you do or don’t? your asleep less?” ella commented as you hummed your eyes going wide, “exactly!”

“and then the stupid blinds kept me awake and then less had her alarm set for dead early and she didn’t even wake up — honestly worst night sleep i’ve ever had.” you grumbled carrying on with your small story as alessia mumbled into her mic about you being overly dramatic.

“oh i hate alarms me, i’m the type who had to wake straight up as soon as it goes off” ella says as you hum, “cause once you start snoozing, it’s game over”

“lessi is the worst for snoozing”

the podcast carry’s one as you talk along with the two girls, about random things that start a different conversation until you get up to the fan questions section of the pod.

“so we are up to when you guys at home get to know ella and lessi more off the pitch as they answer your questions where nothing is off limits, i’m excited for this bit” you smile down the camera before smirking to the two girls as they look at each other scared. you continuing to scroll through the ipad.

“first one is weirdest thing your both scared of?” you say giggling to yourself knowing what both of their answers are going to be.

“probably bananas” ella says pulling a face of disgust as you ask why. “i dunno, i just really don’t like them.

“um turkeys or just birds in general” alessia shrugs as your mind takes you back to the world cup of when there was loads of them there.

“there definitely both weird, the next one is directly for you lessi — this fan has said: alessia your half italian but can you actually speak it” you say reading the comment word for word off the ipad, looking up to see the blondes blank face as you begin to laugh along with ella.

“well i can understand it, i tried to learn how to speak it and i can speak a few words..” less trails off her words getting quieter and quieter with each one she spoke.

you raised your eyebrows humming in amusement, “yep and by tried you mean one duolingo lesson?”

“pretty hard to try and learn it when you have someone distracting you every five seconds wanting attention!” alessia argued, taking a sip of her water which was next to her.

“sorry for showing and giving my girlfriend some love?” you scoffed jokingly as you placed your hands in the air in defence. “next time i won’t bother” you added sassily.

the blonde pouting, mumbling along the lines of that you know that she loves giving you her attention you humming at her response, the blonde holding her hands up in an attempt at a heart with her fingers getting a small smile from you.

as ella dry retched down the mic, “do you have to do the lovey dovey stuff every where we go!”

“okay this is a good one, who’s the better driver” you ask, putting the ipad to the other side.

“well i think we can both agree who it’s not-“ alessia smirked pointed between her and ella who nodded in agreement knowing what the blonde was going to say.

“who?”

“you- do you not…” alessia began before you cut her off, “hang on the question wasn’t to include me, and i know the story your gonna tell and it’s gonna be completely wrong but carry on” you sulked, sinking further in the chair you were sat in opposite the two best friends.

“no so you were in a really tight parking spot, which can i add i told you not to park in-“ alessia began to tell the story in between laughs as tooney listened intently, you sat across from them with a frown on your face.

“—and there was this bollard to the right of the car and i told you that you were gonna hit it if you carried on but you were adamant you weren’t gonna hit it. and of course who was right cause then the back of your car ended up with a massive dent in the back along with scratches along the side”

“yeah but in my defense right, since i did move slightly the way you told me to and if i hadn’t i definitely would have missed it” you defended yourself as alessia rose her eyebrows not totally convinced.

“is this the day you came to england camp sulking?” ella asked as alessia nodded her head slowly in response for you, you not wanting to admit it.

“and now i’m banned from driving lessi’s car-“ your frown deepened.

“i mean i’m not surprised!”

“and that’s all we have time for today, before i get outed anymore!” you perked up once again, the two girls straightening themselves up as you looked down the central camera.

“like you haven’t been outing us for the whole ep love” alessia commented as you waved your hand at what she said.

“thanks for joining me, less and tooney as i third wheeled-“ you began again but got cut off by ella. “no i was, as always!”

“bye!”

[wqnwoos]

seventeen & touch-starved s/o (hhu ver.)

an / entirely written for a friend of mine but here. also whoever is reading this i love u have a good day 💓💕💖💗💞💘💝💖💞💕💗

vocal unit ver.

SEUNGCHEOL.

bear hugs that are somehow simultaneously gentle but also tight

props his chin on your head/shoulder

murmurs in your ear a couple times to make sure you’re alright

“hello?”

“hi,” you say softly into the phone. “um. it’s me.”

you can hear the smile in your boyfriend’s voice when he replies. “hi, baby. everything okay?”

“yeah!” you respond, too quickly with a voice pitched slightly too high. “everything’s fine! just… gonna go to bed now, i think.”

“i’m on my way home right now.” cheol answers the unasked question with ease. “don’t worry, baby, you’ll get your cuddles.”

which is why he’s unsurprised when you’re waiting by the door the moment he arrives home, clad in your pyjamas with a freshly-washed face, flinging your arms around his neck the moment he crosses the threshold.

WONWOO.

will quite literally let u do anything

most patient man fr

his hands, his hair, his thigh — it’s free real estate (but only for you)

it’s nearing 1 in the morning when you start missing wonwoo’s touch.

he’s not far, just on soonyoung’s couch. dinner had turned quickly into drinking games — you’d sat out, instead volunteering to clean the kitchen with vernon and jihoon. which was nice and fun and whatever, but as you sidle up to where wonwoo’s sitting on the sofa, you feel the sudden intense urge to just… cling.

that’s how you end up next to him, with his large hands in yours, you fiddling with his fingers, tracing his palm lines — comparing hand sizes and stroking his knuckles. he doesn’t even flinch, just listening to jeonghan’s story and nodding in all the right places; at some point, he even raises your joined hands to his lips and brushes a kiss over your knuckles, leaving you blushing with the slightest smirk tilting his lips.

MINGYU.

will drop everything to give you the hugs that you need and deserve (and i mean EVERYTHING)

good luck trying to get him to let go

the things i’d do to be hugged by him… those arms probably feel like the safest place in the world

it’s been one of those days — long and tiring and just wrong. which is why when mingyu hugs you in greeting as you step inside, it takes you all of two seconds to burst into tears.

“baby? are you — oh, sweetheart,” he gasps, as you start to shake into his chest. “don’t cry. c’mere. my baby, what is it? what happened?”

you can’t do anything but blubber helplessly, but he doesn’t mind in the slightest, pressing loving kisses everywhere he can reach. his arms stay around you the entire time, as he guides you to the couch, pulls you into his lap and soothes you with gentle touches and quiet murmurs. before he eventually starts cracking jokes — “i’ll buy out your company and never make you work again, if you want.” — and ordering your favourite takeout.

VERNON.

lets you do anything to him (2)

he’s so funny i feel like sometimes he’s just calling you dude but also he might just come out with the smoothest shit right when you don’t expect it

probably fiddles with your hair when he hold you

“vernon?”

“mm?” he glances up from him phone to find you standing in the doorway of the bedroom with round, pleading eyes. he knows immediately that you want something, and also knows immediately that he’ll grant you whatever it is. he always does, when you look at him like that.

you hesitate. “can i get a hug?”

as if he’d ever deny you that. he slides off the bed in one fluid motion, opening his arms and dropping his phone. “of course. come here.”

about a minute later, he attempts a pull away — you whine and tighten your arms, speaking into his shirt with a muffled plea. “just — a little longer? please?”

“as long as you want. i’ve got all day for you, baby.”