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zevrra · 4 days ago

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𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 ⋆˚꩜｡

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩: your vacation is coming to an end but your dad wants you to leave texas with a bang. so he plans to throw a giant lake party, inviting anyone and everyone he knows. including his best friend— joel miller. who you’ve already had the pleasure of meeting once before; but now things were a little awkward and far more complicated than it had been. surrounded by prying eyes, secrets threatening to spill out of the seams— you had to be careful. but when it comes to joel, the man you’ve been dreaming about for days, how careful could you be?

𝐟𝐭. dbf!joel x fem!reader

𝐰𝐜. 16k

𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐬: smut, mdni, no outbreak!au, plot with p, jesse is reader’s childhood friend, SIGNIFICANT AGE GAP, reader is in their 20s, joel is in his 50s, so much sëxual tension, oräl (m & f receiving), unprotected sëx, p in v sëx, riding joel, forbidden romance if you squint, joel’s pov a couple of times, joel is a yearner, joel is jealous & possessive, mention of alcohol, mention of drinking, mention of swimming/wearing a bathing suit, no use of y/n, joel uses pet names (baby, sweetheart, darling), lil bit of angst if you squint, eventual smut, dirty talk, p//ssy drunk, c//ck & p//ssy worship if you squint, joel has a dad bod (& happy trail)

𝐚/𝐧: this is a continuation fic from THIS post! please read the first part before this one (i’d appreciate it! <3)

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“Are you sure you want to invite…everyone you know?” You ask, folding a beach towel as you speak.

“Why not? It’s my little girl’s last few days before she leaves! I want the party to be one to be remembered!” Your dad hums, shoving his own bag full of goodies for the lake.

You manage a smile but shake your head nonetheless. “You’re acting like I’m going to leave forever.”

Your dad laughs, struggling to zip his over packed bag up. “To me, it sure does feel like forever!” He says with another laugh. “Either way, it’ll be fun! Swimming, good food, and camping one last night before you leave. It’s like you’re still thirteen!”

“But I’m not thirteen anymore dad. Plus, Mrs. Felton is bringing her famous tuna and pecan salad.” You say exaggeratedly, rolling your eyes. “Which you and I both know…the entire block hates. So that good food you promised…?” You tease, zipping your own bag closed.

You watch as your dad visibly shudders at the mention of the tuna salad, making a fake gagging noise. “Well it’s a good thing your dad knows how to cook or else you’d be stuck with that delicious tuna salad too.” He fires back, hauling his successfully closed bag, and your own finished bag, over his shoulder, heading for the front door.

You playfully sigh, shaking your head as you follow after him. You grab the massive cooler by the door on your way out, hauling it into the bed of his truck.

“Plus,” Your dad starts, helping you with one hand to lift the cooler into the bed of his truck. “Joel and Tommy are gonna be there. And I know damn good and well Joel can cook too.”

You freeze a little at the mention of his name but you manage to quickly gather yourself before your dad notices. One hand planted on the bottom of the cooler and you give it a shove to push it further into the bed. You laugh a little, trying your best not to sound awkward, as you turn around and grab hold of a couple of lawn chairs to add to the back of the truck.

After that brief moment of summer’s heat getting to the two of you, or so Joel called it, he had left you to shower and clean up; working on your car for a couple of hours. Leaving you to sit in his house like a lost soul; only entertained by your phone and the sound of silence.

You two did not speak about “it” after he finished working on your car. He simply came into his home, handed you the keys— making sure to avoid touching you at pretty much all costs— before saying goodbye and driving home.

You two didn’t speak to each other after that day. You had waited, hopeful, for something; anything. Waited for a call or a text, but after the third day of sitting idly with your phone tightly gripped in your fingers, you figured he had planned to never talk to you again. Even though it stung a little, you couldn’t really blame him. It was an impulse, driven by desire and lust to quench a thirst brought on by the heat.

And you definitely never mentioned that day to your dad either. Would feign that you just ‘simply forgot to tell him’ if it was brought up.

Although, the mention of his name still makes your heart pound; forcing you to swallow the memories of the two of you…tangled up. There was a time and a place for everything…and standing near your father was not one of those times to get all flustered.

You shake off the memories clouding your mind. Taking a step back and watching your dad throw in the giant tent he bought two years ago…and never used.

“I’m surprised they’re coming.” You mumble after your dad closes the tailgate to his truck.

“Why wouldn’t they?” Your dad asks, leaning against his truck briefly.

You freeze again. Having meant to wonder inside your head instead of speaking out loud.

“Hmm,” You sigh, putting your hands on your hips. “Just didn’t think senior citizens liked to swim, that's all.” You finally say, sarcasm dripping in your tone just to cover your ass from the real reason.

Your dad takes the bait.

He laughs, hearty and full, reaching out to pinch the tip of your nose. “Now you better be nice to your dad or I’m leavin’ ya at the lake with only the tuna salad for lunch and dinner.”

You yelp at the pinch on your nose, rubbing the sore spot before playfully smacking your dad across the arm. “Better be nice to your daughter or you’ll end up in a nursing home next year.” You tease, shooting him a glare.

Your dad laughs again, waving you off as he walks back over to the front door to lock up the house.

You take the time to get up into the passenger side of his truck. Buckling up before you check to make sure you have your essentials. Phone, tucked into the pocket of your linen shorts. You remember putting your wallet and keys into your tote bag so you can ignore the anxiety of forgetting them for now. Everything else you could think of was packed inside your bag, so now all you had to do was sit back and enjoy the ride; and somehow enjoy being around a man you wanted more than you’ve ever wanted anything else in life.

But maybe with the amount of people going to be there, thanks to your dad inviting the entire neighborhood and then some, you wouldn’t notice him at all.

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That was just wishful thinking.

The second you and your dad showed up to the lakeside, your nerves set in. Every vehicle that pulled up as you helped your dad set up for the day, sent a strike of lightning along your spine. Your heart pounds hard against your ribs and your fingers tremble as you expect to see his truck every time you stopped what you were doing and looked up.

Every car that pulled up forced you to freeze. Every single time. But then you realize it’s not him, and that you’re not looking at his truck, so you try your hardest to return to normal.

You do your best to keep yourself busy. As much as you possibly could anyway. Helping your dad prepare for the cookout, setting things up inside the large shelter sitting above the lake’s shore.

Even with the sticky feeling of jumpiness clinging to you, you managed to say your hellos to those that you knew— and even to the ones you didn’t know. Telling everyone who showed up where they could find refreshments of every kind; water, sweet tea, soda, and beer. Doing your best to be a good host.

You had just settled into your skin once again when he finally showed up. You saw his truck a mile away. Right out of the corner of your eye. Watching as it rumbles down the road, turning your insides as hot as the pavement he steps out onto.

You swallow hard, choking on the humidity of it all, as you try to ignore him. Turning your attention quickly to whoever was standing closest to you, initiating friendly conversation.

You didn’t want to see him or how good he looked. And you certainly didn’t want to remember that moment; his lips on yours, or his calloused hands brushing everywhere along your body. You tried your hardest to forget the feeling of him slotted against your core, the taste of his name on your tongue…

But it was no use.

The thought of it leaves you breathless and fuzzy. Remembering the feeling of him all too well and you blame the summer’s sun for making you damn near hallucinate.

You hear your dad laughing behind you and you pray inside your mind that he just forgets about you. Just continues to rattle off his stories and not call you over—

“Hey kid! Come over here for a minute!” Your dad yells over the soft roar of people and the music he had put on.

Dammit.

You excuse yourself to whoever you briefly stopped to speak to. Shoving that queasy, anxious feeling in your throat down into your stomach. You turn on your heel to make your way to where your dad stands, right next to the grill— right next to Tommy and Joel.

The sound of your heart pounding in your chest was almost as loud as the sound of your flip flops echoing with every step you took, drawing closer and closer to the trio.

“You remember my daughter, huh boys?” Your dad says, loud and proud. His hand pats on your shoulder as he reintroduces you to the Millers.

“Hiya,” Tommy is the first to speak up, his hand lifting in the air for you to shake. You take his hand welcomingly, shaking it in greeting with a small smile on your face. “Nice to see ya again.” Tommy adds before he takes his hand back.

You had tried your hardest not to look at him.

Now it was unavoidable.

You turn to Joel, who stands about as rigid as you feel.

And fuck if Joel doesn’t look so damn good, just like you knew he would. He’s wearing a simple gray t-shirt, breathable and light for the summer’s sun, and god was he wearing swim trunks? Did he plan to swim? You can’t help but imagine him standing in the shallow end, water rolling down his bare chest, dark green swim trunks clinging to his thighs, making everything you desire just a little more pronounced and proud. The image of water clinging to his thighs makes you suck in a deep breath and you have to force yourself to remain indifferent as you stand next to your father.

Thank god you had a good poker face.

Tommy finally elbows Joel, knocking him— and yourself— out of the wind that had wrapped around the two of you.

“Howdy,” Joel says, low and easy. He shifts around the simply wrapped box— a present for you?— and the six pack of beer in his hands, before he manages to stick his hand out for you to shake.

You can already feel your fingers trembling as you lift your hand to meet his. Your fingers smooth down into his palm and your entire body hums with heat beneath your skin. You do your best not to shudder— or to remember the feel of his calloused hands on your body days ago.

Thankfully though, before your mind can begin to replay every second of that day, Tommy laughs, patting his brother a little harder than he probably should have.

“Forgive my older brother. He’s losin’ it.” Tommy hums, emphasizing the word “older” as he speaks about Joel.

You jump at his voice and snatch your hand back quickly, laughing the interaction off with him. Trying your hardest to keep your heart inside your chest.

Joel in response rolls his eyes and shakes off his little brother’s hand, taking his hand back down to his side. “You’re one to talk.” Joel gruffly says, elbowing Tommy back.

“C’mon boys, you’re both pretty!” Your dad jokes, laughing loudly as he joins in to the bickering of the brothers.

Their playful arguing falls onto deaf ears as your mind shifts back to that day. Back to him. You’re close enough that you can smell his cologne again. He’s only an arms length away, maybe less. If it were just the two of you…you’re almost sure you’d reach out to him again. Pull him in as he lifts you up, kissing him like it was meant to be.

You realize you’ve been staring at him for far too long, when he glances at you.

Big eyes roam down the length of your body, taking in every revealing bit of skin that shows with the tank-top and pair of shorts you had slipped on over your bathing suit.

You watch his jaw clench and his lips form a thin line as he stares into your eyes; as if he wants to say something but the laugh of Tommy and your dad echoing in the background, stops him. You two were not alone, and it would be best to remember that. Doesn’t stop the build up of heat bubbling under your skin, threatening to burst with his gaze settling all over your body though.

Thankfully, out of the corner of your eye, a familiar face is saving you from the desire— or maybe it's embarrassment— threatening to swallow you up.

“Ahaha,” You laugh awkwardly, a little too loudly, pointing over your shoulder in the direction of said familiar face. “Look! There’s Jesse, I’m gonna go say hi!”

Your dad waves you off, letting you go without so much as a thought as he continues his chit-chat with his friends.

You flee under Joel’s gaze, rushing to Jesse’s side before you can think about it.

“Jesse!” You shout, grabbing his arm and dragging him out from beneath the large shaded patio and around the corner of the building, out of sight.

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Fuck, she looked good.

Joel had tried his hardest to worm out of not going to the party. He wanted to enjoy time with his friend and his brother at a nice lake party but god knows he wasn’t gonna be able to focus on fuckin’ nothin’ with her around. It was bad enough he hadn’t talked to her since that day, he really tried to…just didn’t know how. Was scared he’d fuck something up…but by now, he surely has anyway. Lord knows he didn’t need anymore help fucking things up.

But in the end, Tommy had convinced him to show up. Told him it would be all kinds of fun and a good day to take a break from their usual hardworking days; so Joel went, under the guise of just taking it ‘easy’.

It was anything but easy.

The second he stepped out of his truck, his skin turned hot to the touch, and not because of the sun. And just when he thinks the shade of the patio will cool him off, he sees you.

Called over by your father, trotting up with tension only Joel probably notices.

Fuck, she looked so damn good.

His eyes travel along your body, that he didn’t want to admit he hadn’t stopped thinking about since that day, staring at any exposed skin that dared to show. You wore shorts and a light tank-top, but all he could think about was getting to see more of your thighs; or the way your tank-top dipped low enough to reveal some cleavage— peeking just over your swimsuit hiding beneath—that he hadn’t gotten a chance to see last time.

It made his mouth water.

Licking his lips a little as his eyes flutter while he looks over you. And he really wants to say something; anything. To tell you how pretty you look or to try to and make sense of what happened between the two of you but Tommy’s elbow is digging into his ribs and he’s quickly remembering where the two of you are at.

He mumbles the softest of greetings, clearing his throat as Tommy teases him about his age. Joel rolls his eyes, remarking how Tommy is in the same damn boat he is, before her dad steps in.

Joel tunes out most of the banter though, and returns his attention back to that pretty girl standing beside him. He just can’t seem to take his eyes off of you.

Joel stares again. God, what he wouldn’t give to be alone with you right now. The way you slightly look up at him, your eyes skimming over his lips, he’d devour you right then and there if it was just the two of you. To lift you up into his arms, holding you as close as he could, whispering your name and his apologies like there was no tomorrow; if it meant he got to hear you call his name again.

He can feel that scorching hum under his skin again, building up more and more, just like it had back in his kitchen a week ago— threatening to snap.

Joel is pulled out of his…not so innocent thoughts at the sound of Tommy’s voice calling for him. His lips form a thin line as he realizes he’s been staring for too long.

He licks his chapped lips, slowly blinking, finally gathering the nerve to strike up a friendly conversation with you, to ease into maybe getting you away and alone, but you’re turning away from him. Yelling after a tall, dark haired boy and running off. And before he knows it, you’re gone. Slipping right out of his grasp, leaving him behind. Forcing him to watch you drag…that boy…away, dragging him along awfully close right behind you.

Jealousy pits in his stomach. Turning that sweet burn you set alight in him into a sour, puff of smoke.

And he didn’t like that at fucking all.

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Jesse laughs as you yank him around the pillar of the patio; hiding out of sight, out of mind. “Oh hey dude, what’s up?” Jesse playfully hums, stumbling behind you as you jerk him around.

“Ugh,” You groan, pressing your back against the stone of the patio wall. “So awkward…” You mutter under your breath, rubbing a hand over your face.

Jesse lifts a dark eyebrow, peeking around the corner from where you had just dragged him from. “Your dad?” He asks.

“Yeah…” You lie, yanking him back away from the opening of the door. “I just…can’t believe he invited this many people.”

“This is nothing,” Jesse hums with another light hearted laugh, his arms crossing over his chest. “You were at my graduation. Now that was a party.”

You roll your eyes, pinching his arm playfully, chuckling alongside your childhood friend.

You had met Jesse when he and his family moved in two houses down from yours, when you were just five years old; and ever since, the two of you have been really close friends. Lived on the same street your entire childhood, went to the same school, everything— up until you left for further schooling and later your job.

“C’mon…this is still a little too much. He’s acting like I’m gonna leave forever.” You sigh, glancing in the direction you had just fled from.

You didn’t tell Jesse about your little…moment with Joel last week. Normally, you would’ve called him and spilled all of the details of what happened. Would’ve talked for hours, since Jesse was into that kind of gossip too, but this wasn’t just gossip. It was something that you needed to dissect alone.

“I see you met Joel and Tommy too.” Jesse says as he moves to lean against the building beside you. “I’ve worked with Tommy a couple of times, he’s pretty cool.”

You nod your head a little, picking at the hem of your beach shorts. “And…Joel?” You ask cautiously. Praying you don’t sound too intrigued, didn’t need Jesse’s keen ears picking up on what you were really asking.

“Met him a few times too. Heard more stories from Tommy ‘bout him than anything. Seems like a good man though.” Jesse answers truthfully; unsuspecting.

You nod again, picking at your shorts a little harder. You didn’t need to hear it from Jesse to know Joel was in fact a good man; you had witnessed it first hand after all.

Although, you had hoped to hear…juicer details about Joel instead. Like what was his type? How did he like his coffee? Did he even like coffee? Was he seeing anyone else? You remember him telling you he’s divorced, and that it’s just been him and Sarah ever since but…after what the two of you did, did he not call you because he decided to find someone else?

Your stomach drops at the thought but it’s quickly swept away— he most likely would’ve shown up with a partner today, if he had a new one, to solidify that he was no longer…thinking about you.

You still had a chance.

“You wanna get in the water?“ Jesse offers, cutting through your thoughts. He can clearly tell you’re distracted by something; thank god he can’t tell exactly what you’re distracted by though.

“Please,” You sigh, nodding your head to his question, pushing yourself up and off the stone wall. “Anything to keep me away from my dad for a little bit.”

You stumble back into the mouth of the lake shelter, ignoring your dad and…company, as best you can. Quickly, you dig through your bag you had brought and fish out a towel, turning swiftly back to Jesse and joining him in the short walk to the edge of the beach. You shed out of your shorts and tank-top, leaving you in your pretty, black and white bathing suit.

You wade through the ripples of lakewater, pushing yourself forward until water sits just above your belly button. You groan softly at the coolness of the water, rubbing a hand across the back of your neck. God, this was much needed. After your brief run in with Joel, who easily set every inch of your body on fire, and standing in the Texas sun; the chill of the water was more than welcoming. Helping out your previously flushed body to return to normal, simmering the very bones beneath your skin.

You and Jesse both take it easy once in the water. He asks you about your school and job, you ask him the same, before you two begin to retell stories from your childhood. That god awful teacher you both shared in seventh grade who almost failed the two of you because you purposely failed your math homework by writing the teacher’s name in every box. Not that you couldn’t pass it, just wanted to piss him off. You remember being grounded for a month. Or the time you and Jesse got into a fight with another group of kids in eighth grade; your dad was proud of you for that one.

So many stories bounced back and forth before a voice cut through your laughter and happy memories.

“Y’all wanna share with the class what’s so funny?” Tommy asks from his spot on the beach. His arms are crossed over his chest, his shirt discarded, and he dawns a smirk the size of Texas itself.

“Nothin’ you’d find funny, old timer.” Jesse replies with a softer laugh, standing up and moving slightly closer to the edge of the shallow end, holding out his hand for Tommy to shake.

Tommy takes his hand and shakes it, a grin still settled on his face as he lets go, and walks into the water beside Jesse.

“Well shit, I wasn’t born yesterday kid,” Tommy teases as he stands beside you and Jesse. “Doubt you’ve done anything as bad as I have when I was your age.” He says, far too proudly than he probably should be.

You chuckle at his words, shrugging slightly as you and Jesse share a glance; before Jesse goes into detail about the time he pranked his senior teacher by leaving dead fish in his yard.

You don’t mean too, but you’ve tuned out the boy talk again. Just nodding your head as they speak, swapping their own stories, but every word bounces off your thick, inattentive skull.

Couldn’t help it, not when you knew if Tommy was near…Joel was somewhere close by too.

“She’s not even listening…”

You hear the words ever so faintly, echoing in the back of your mind, but before you can fake your way into making it out like you were actually listening, a wave of water splashes against your upper half. Jerking back a little at the water droplets hitting your face, you blink rapidly at the culprit who just splashed you– Jesse.

“Oh it is on, Jesse.” You hiss, knowing his intentions of wanting to start a war. Your hand just dips under the surface to break the water and send a wave crashing at him, but he holds up a hand to stop you in your tracks.

“We settle this like men. Chicken.” Jesse dares, his eyes narrowed.

You roll your eyes at his challenge, hand still at the ready to splash him. “We’re not twelve, dude. Who’s gonna lift us up?”

Tommy claps Jesse’s shoulder, claiming his stake in this game of war. “Might hurt my back a little, but I’ll do it.” Tommy laughs, joking about his back as if he were a grandpa of several years.

You stare at the two men, clearly outnumbered and a little irritated about Tommy, who so easily jumped at the chance to join up with Jesse. “What about me then?” You ask with a sarcastic tone.

Tommy doesn’t skip a beat. He hooks a thumb over his shoulder, grinning as wide as he can, as he gestures towards the other participant awaiting lakeside.

Joel.

Joel stands in the sand at just the edge of where the lake water meets the sandy beach, watching you with a gaze you can’t quite read from your spot in the water. His shirt is still on but now he holds a beer in his hand. Two fingers casually wrap around the bottle's cool neck, but Tommy’s words and your eyes on him has him freezing in his spot…as if he had settled with just watching you mess around. Keeping his distance, but close enough he could continue to yearn for you from afar.

Joel coughs, trying his best to avoid your eye, embarrassed how Tommy basically just ratted him out. “I dunno Tommy…I’m too old for this shit anymore.”

Tommy and Jesse share a laugh but you barely manage to breathe, staring at Joel as he stays still.

“You got one thing right,” Tommy hums, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “You’re old!”

Joel rolls his eyes and you feel your stomach drop at his irritation.

“C’mon now, grandpa! You promised to have some fun! Now come here and have some damn fun!” Tommy says, motioning for Joel to join them.

Joel remains quiet. His fingers anxiously shift along the beer bottle. You can tell in his mind he’s weighing his options; he could refuse, but then he’d seem like the biggest asshole ever after what happened between you two…or he could join, and fight to keep his thoughts “innocent” while your body was on his once more.

“If it’s alright with her.” Joel finally says, nodding his head in your direction.

If you hadn’t been holding your breath before, you were now.

The thought of him touching your body after everything that has happened in the short time since you both arrived— it made your skin boil in anticipation. You had wanted it so badly, to feel him touch you again, but this time it would be nothing but friendly with the sea of eyes on the two of you.

But it would be enough.

You slowly nod back and that’s all it takes.

Joel sticks his beer upright into the sand, keeping it nestled just enough to stop it from spilling while it’s unattended, then he grabs the hem of his shirt. He tosses the gray cloth into the sand next to his beer before greeting you in the water.

It was hard taking your eyes off of him. Jesse, while your childhood friend, was still very easy on the eye. Can’t even deny Tommy being just as handsome as well but Joel? Fuck, he was different, in every way. Your heart beat faster around him, body hummed with electricity like you had never felt before. And he certainly was the most attractive man you had ever laid your eyes on.

He stands tall over you, eyes narrowed down the curve of his pretty nose. The tease of gray in his dark beard shimmers under the Texas sun, along with the curls at the nape of his neck. He looked just as good as the day you met him on the side of the road. Looked even better when those big brown eyes of his were full blown, lusting after you.

And again, if the two of you had been alone— you would’ve kissed him right then and there, drawing out that lust that you had encountered a week ago.

“You ready?” Joel asks softly.

You wet your lips before giving him another sure nod.

Joel smiles reassuringly, sinking just below the water’s surface, holding his hand out for you to use to stabilize yourself as you get up on his shoulders.

You take it hesitantly, pressing your fingers gently into the curve of his palm before you seat yourself quickly along his shoulders, retrieving your hand. Once seated and okay, Joel lifts you and himself out of the water, returning to stand up and prepare to play the game.

You run your fingers through his wet hair, under the guise of keeping the soaked tips out of his eyesight. Briefly imagining what it would be like if he just turned his head a little to the side; his lips brushing your inner thighs as they sit snug atop his shoulders.

A rush of pleasure strikes your core at the thought of him eating you out. Pushing your bathing suit to the side, his tongue dancing against your clit. Would he finger you too? Could he please you with just his tongue? You don’t have time to think of an answer when Jesse is calling your name, ripping you out of your endless thoughts once again.

“3, 2, 1…go!” Jesse shouts, he and Tommy both lunging forward to take on you and Joel.

Focusing on the game now, your hands raise to grab ahold of Jesse’s hands as he seeks to throw you off first. You lean back but hold tight to him, and thanks to Joel’s hands settling on your shins, he keeps you from falling.

You push back against Jesse’s weight, which almost does nothing to move him. Joel helps though, hefting you forward and causing Tommy to stumble back this time. A smile cracks your face as you take the upperhand.

It doesn’t last long though once Tommy regains his footing. Jesse and you struggle back and forth for several minutes; taking every chance you could get to try and win. You’re putting up a damn good fight, and if Joel wasn’t the one keeping you upright, you’re sure you would’ve lost a long time ago.

You two made a really good fucking team.

You pull your elbows in tight, tensing every inch of your muscles and giving Jesse one final pushback. And with that last shove, Tommy’s footing slips beneath him and Jesse goes crashing into the waves below. You laugh, raising your arms up in victory just as Jesse comes up for air.

“Hell yeah!” You cheer, laughing as Jesse wipes his face and gasps for air after his tumble into the waves. “I’ll always be the Queen when it comes to a game of chicken!”

Tommy and Joel both chuckle at your victory, even Jesse cracks a small smirk as he admits his defeat.

You’re too wrapped up in cheering for your win to notice Joel getting just that much closer to the water. And with just a little toss, Joel sends you to meet the ripples of water beneath.

You’re swallowed up by the lake water, tumbling under the surface briefly as you try to regain your footing— before breaking above the water’s surface. You flail around for a split second, still caught entirely off guard from your betrayal, trying to take in your surroundings.

When you finally gather your bearings, Tommy and Jesse both laugh from their spots on the sideline.

“You ass!” You yell in Joel’s direction, wiping your hair out of your eyes.

“Mmm, hey now,” Joel drawls, lighthearted and warm like the sun. “You kinda deserved it.” He adds, a smile splintering on his own lips.

Ah, it was a little normal again.

Joel takes a moment to retrieve his beer, taking a hearty sip from the bottle before wading back out towards you.

He holds his hand out to you, the simple gesture sending your heart abuzz once again, but instead of accepting it right away, you splash him. Sending water up against his chest and face. He stumbles at the surprise and you take the opportunity to give him a little taste of his own medicine– yanking on his hand and sending him down below the water’s surface while you rise to your feet.

When Joel returns from his own dip, he stares up at you, spitting out water he likely inhaled in his fall.

You laugh but the smile forming on his face, canines peeking over the curl of his lip, surely meant trouble for you.

His hand scoops forward and he sends a wave crashing in your direction but you dodge it, seeing it coming. He’s quick onto his feet for a man his age, chasing after you to get his sought out revenge, another splashing war beginning.

You flee, wading through the water that comes up to your stomach, stepping off to the side, around Jesse and Tommy in an attempt to stop Joel in his tracks.

“C’mere sweetheart!” Joel calls, damn near right behind you.

You glance over your shoulder to see Jesse and Tommy parting, letting Joel sweep between them to get his pay back. He’s close enough now to send another splash against your back, sending chills across your shoulders and down your spine.

“You guys suck!” You yell at the two bystanders, breaking out in a giggling fit once Joel’s hand grabs hold of your arm and he easily tugs you back towards him.

He tosses you over his shoulder, hand tightly wrapped around your thigh to keep you from squirming out of his grip. Your hands slide down his damp back, half assed pushing against his skin to try and escape.

Won’t admit the butterflies dancing around your stomach as he hauls you around like it’s fucking easy to him.

Joel carries the two of you out a little deeper into the water, attempting to toss you back into the water but you drag him down with you at the last second.

Both of you sink below the surface, hands grasping at each other to try and keep the other under water even longer. You manage to slip away somehow, rising out of the water and back onto your feet but Joel just continues to chase you. You laugh, soft and sweet, as the two of you playfully mess around. Taking turns in splashing each other or chasing each other around the water.

It was as if the two of you had never been separated in the first place. As if things were normal, enjoyable, between you both. Truly, as if you were just…better off together.

You don’t know when it happens, sometime in your struggle to get to the shore probably, but Joel sits against the sand in a more shallow spot; while you sit snugly in his lap.

He laughs with you, easy and hearty— a true, genuine laugh. A large hand settles on your hip, thumb rubbing into your skin. His gaze is heavy and hot, hotter than the sun, as his warm eyes flick from yours to the plump of your bottom lip. Joel stares at your lips, making it obvious as to what he wants, his own lips still curled up in a smirk. His thumb presses heavy into your skin and you’re suddenly made aware of every touch the two of you share.

His hand grasping your waist. Your own hands pressed against his chest that once kept you from falling, but now just tenderly brush against him. Could feel his erratic heartbeat beneath your fingers; a little happy that it matched your own wild beating heart. You feel his strong thighs against the back of yours as you sit in his lap. But the most prominent feeling was the tent, slowly growing between your slightly parted thighs, rubbing up into you.

You shiver at the feeling. This time, the water does nothing to cool you off.

And just as suddenly, the both of you realize what’s going on…what shouldn’t be going on in front of others. The world around the two of you comes crashing down like a giant tsunami.

You scramble from your seated position, quickly backing up into the depths of the water and back up onto your feet. Joel does the same but in the opposite direction. His eyes are wide and his grip tightens around the beer bottle, most likely full of lake water by now, as he tries his hardest not to look at you.

After a few, intense heartbeats, he clears his throat. He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, turning away from the entire group staring at him. “I’m gonna go get another beer.” Joel mutters, sharp and curt like a knife cutting an object. He doesn’t wait for anyone else to speak before he leaves the water, stepping up the hill without another word.

And he’s gone before your eyes, disappearing into the patio.

After a few more agonizingly, hard and thrashing heartbeats, Tommy clears his throat. You avoid his gaze as he walks past you and out of the water, grabbing Joel’s discarded shirt, and following after his brother.

“So…older men, huh?” Jesse’s voice cuts through the blood pounding in your ears.

You jump at his voice. Shaking your head, putting up your hands in an attempt to divert Jesse and his questions. “Jesse, please don’t.”

“Oh please, Shorty,” Jesse says, rolling your childhood nickname off his tongue. “We’re not gonna talk about what just happened?”

“I’d rather not.” You shakily breathe, running a hand over your damp hair as you make your way to land. You park yourself against the sand, back facing the patio where the brothers had walked off to, feet barely still in the water when Jesse is already at your side the second you sit down.

He sits briefly in silence next to you, digging his fingers lightly into the sand beside him. He stays quiet, letting it stretch between the two of you; the sound of laughter and the soft crash of lake water filling the gaps.

“Well,” Jesse finally says after what feels like maybe two minutes of silence; it was all he could give you— he couldn’t wait any longer to know the details. “Figured you’d be into guys…your age.” He teases, his shoulder knocking against yours.

“Ugh, Jesse,” You whine, hands pressing against your face. You can feel your face flushing a dark red, hot beneath your fingertips. “You’re so nosey.” You grumble. Embarrassed beyond embarrassed under his gaze and questions.

“After that!? Yeah, I’m gonna be fuckin’ nosey dude!” Jesse laughs in disbelief. As if he can’t really believe that someone he had known for so long and called his best friend, just basically dry humped a man twice her age.

“So, give me the details.” He adds, knocking his knuckles gently against your knee.

You groan, lowering your hands into your lap after a second. You anxiously pick at your nails, glancing over at Jesse. “It’s nothing really. Literally it was just a one time thing—“ You start to retell but Jesse interrupts you.

“One time!?” Jesse barks and you shush him wildly, hitting his bicep to try and keep him from screaming your secrets to the rest of the world.

“Shhh! Shut up!” You shush him again, embarrassment turning the tips of your ears a dark red now. “Oh my god, Jesse! This isn’t public knowledge for the entire fuckin’ neighborhood to know about!” You hiss under your breath so no one around can hear you, just like you hoped they hadn’t heard Jesse.

Jesse laughs again, his eyes wide as he glances over you and then over his shoulder, surveying the area before returning to the conversation. “Fuck, seriously, what haven’t you been telling me!” Jesse muses with a smirk. “Move to a big city and suddenly you can’t tell your best friend about the man waiting back home for ya and that you’ve been sleeping with him? Shit dude!” Jesse laughs again, shaking his head.

“Jesse,” You groan, hitting his arm again. “I told you, it’s not like that. It was a one time thing. It happened last week—“

“Last week! God, you hate me don’t you. You don’t wanna tell me nothin’ anymore, huh?” Jesse says in feigned shock, shaking his head.

“Ugh.” You sigh, rolling your eyes at the dramatic man. “I don’t hate you. Again, it wasn’t supposed to be a known thing! A one time thing.” You reiterate with a defeated glance towards Jesse, who is still smiling away.

You watch as Jesse tries his hardest to put together any dots you may have left out. You take the second of quietness to calm yourself, wondering exactly what you could tell him and what you really shouldn’t.

Jesse beats you to it though. “So…” He starts after the brief silence. “Was he a good fuck?”

“Jesse!” You shout, flamed cheeks once again as you hit his shoulder. You don’t know how many more times you could yell his name before he stopped asking you the most embarrassing questions known to man.

“Ok, ok! I’m done!” He laughs, rubbing his arm after that last hit.

You take his word, ignoring his cheerful gaze, turning to stare out at the ripples of lake water. You don’t really want to continue talking about it but you know Jesse won’t give up until he gets all the details— so you wait for him to keep asking you questions.

After a moment, he finally speaks up again. “Does he know that it was just a one time thing though? From the looks of it, he’s still waaaaay into you.” Jesse points out, his face turning a little more…sorrowful, as he looks at you; as if he feels bad about your current situation.

“Huh, could’ve fooled me.” You respond, pressing your fingers into the wet sand. You semi-play with the sand beneath you, sighing heavily as you remember the ghosted feeling you sat with for days. That loneliness that cradled you, the emptiness without him.

“It really wasn’t planned. Just happened. And then…we didn’t talk. It’s obviously a little complicated.” You croak, kicking at the water splashing around your feet.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Fuck. Shit. God dammit.

He had gotten too carried away.

The awkwardness between the two of you had faded so quickly, he just couldn’t help it. Falling into a smooth rhythm of laughs, stolen glances, and soft intimate touches; until you were in his lap.

It just happened. Wasn’t planned at all he just— fuck felt so goddamn comfortable with someone in that way for the first time in so fucking long.

Like it was…just easy.

Joel stumbles up into the patio, dodging people and ignoring faces he didn’t know or care about, heading straight for the cooler. He tosses the water filled bottle into the nearby trash can before digging into the cooler for another beer. He’s just fishing another bottle out of the ice and popping off the cap when Tommy is coming up quickly to his side.

“What the fuck was that?” Tommy retorts, an eyebrow hitched in confusion towards the sky as he stares at his older brother.

“Nothin’.” Joel responds, lifting the bottle to his lips and taking a heavy chug off the bitter beer.

A lie that made his heart ache with regret as soon as he spoke. At this point, it definitely wasn’t just nothing to him. Or to her.

Fuck, he’d rather be shooting whiskey.

“That didn’t look like nothin’, Joel.” Tommy scoffs under his breath, casting glances over his shoulder to make sure a certain someone’s dad didn’t come over and hear the conversation.

Joel finishes the beer far too quickly, tossing his trash away and reaching for another he’ll leisurely sip on now that a buzz, not created by you, sets in under his skin. He slams the lid to the cooler shut, turning to face Tommy but he’s unable to truly look his little brother in the eye. “Tommy, don’t. I said it’s nothin’.” Joel grunts, another lie that made his heart ache, stepping to the side to try and go around Tommy.

“When I told you to have more fun…didn’t expect you to be messin’ around, big brother.” Tommy teases, stepping in front of Joel as he tries to flee.

Joel rolls his eyes, already sipping on the new beer. He’d need at least 10 more to get any kind of real buzz to deal with Tommy and his prying eye.

“I’m not messin’ around. It’s just, fuck, I dunno, complicated.” Joel finally huffs, tilting his head down so his eyes settle on the concrete of the patio. “Just drop it, a’right?”

Tommy laughs, shaking his head as he stares at Joel; who is trying his damn hardest not to be seen. “Alright, alright. Just hope you know what you’re doin’ old man.” Tommy teases, lifting a hand to light heartedly tap Joel on the shoulder.

Joel shakes his hand off. Annoyed with his little brother but his irritation wouldn’t get to last long when her father was coming over to the both of them. A smile on his face as he stalks up to his friends.

“Look what the water spit out!” He says, chuckling as he takes in Joel’s soaking wet appearance. “Go for a lil swim? Water alright?”

Joel nods curtly, responds really only with another good sip off his beer.

“Oh the water is certainly alright.” Tommy sarcastically rolls, answering for Joel, laughing alongside her father.

Joel narrows his eyes at his little brother. Knowing that if he was a little younger, and somewhere else, he and Tommy would’ve traded brotherly punches instead of words, for the shit he was pulling.

“Well enough playin’ around boys, foods ready!” Her dad says, patting both Tommy and Joel on the back briefly before he heads off to fetch the rest of the crew.

“Keep your mouth shut, Tommy. I’m fuckin’ serious.” Joel curses under his breath at his brother, who simply laughs in his face at his threat.

“Don’t worry big brother,” Tommy starts, donning a large smile on his face. “My lips are sealed.”

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Jesse doesn’t say anything after you admit that Joel never bothered to give you the time of day after what happened. He just frowns and actually gives you the moment of silence, letting everything soak in; for you, and him.

Before he can console you in some type of Jesse fashion, a booming voice cuts between your gossip.

“Come eat y’all!” Your dad’s voice rings out over the roar of the crowd; calling anyone and everyone back to the patio for food.

“Let’s go eat.” Jesse hums, standing up and offering you his hand without a second thought.

You smile a little, accepting his offer and letting him hoist you to your feet once more. You both turn in sync towards the patio for the food your dad calls out for.

You suddenly realize how hungry you are. If you were in a damn cartoon, you’re sure the smell of food would be carrying you off on a thick fog, straight to the source.

As you begin to climb the small incline, Jesse leans in close to whisper a final thought about the situation. “From your reaction though…he definitely was good, wasn’t he?” Jesse mumbles under his breath.

You gasp, preparing to shove Jesse for his statement but he’s already running away, laughing loudly as he goes. He leaves you behind with another flush spreading across your face. But, thankfully, the tension that had taken hold of your shoulders eases, and you remember why he’s your best friend.

“Asshole!” You shout, laughing as you chase after him.

⋆✴︎˚｡⋆

Hours pass by, the feeling of normalcy returning to the air around you. Somewhat, anyway. Joel certainly avoided you after what happened in the water— didn’t need another…incident happening where your father could see and complicate everything just that much more.

And you did your best to avoid Tommy too, even under his amused, prying gaze across the room.

On any other day, you’d probably laugh at the sight of Tommy trying his hardest to get Joel to talk to you. Like a mother bird trying to push her children out of the nest to learn to fly and live. But it wasn’t that simple this time.

After everyone finished eating, you and Jesse helped your dad out before running off to do whatever else was needed. Passing out drinks, ice cream, anything anyone may need before you both ended up, tucked away at a corner table in the patio, playing games. Started off with card games, some puzzles, before you both decided on playing a few board games.

Your dad had gone off to set up the tent since it was getting late, while you and Jesse stayed behind and shared a couple of drinks and laughs.

The rest of the evening goes by quickly. Jesse doesn’t ask for any further details about your little run in with Joel, for now. You know that once you leave, he’ll be calling your phone and making you spill before you ever step off the plane.

After a nice buzz settles in, the moon hanging high up into the night sky, Jesse says goodnight, planning to head to his own tent.

“Don’t stay up too late now.” Jesse warns sarcastically, smiling as he waves goodbye.

You roll your eyes before flipping him off as a way of saying your own goodnight, watching as he leaves you in solitary. You clean up any trash left around the table or inside the patio, tossing it in the nearest garbage can. Packing the games up next, shoving them back into your bag before setting it on top of the table for you to grab later. You walk over to one of the openings of the lake shelter, staring out at the moon and the stars hanging above the dark curtain of water.

Deciding that yeah, after the long ass day you’ve just had, you could use some quiet time by the water; especially now that the beach was completely empty.

You leave behind your belongings and walk to the edge of the lakeside once more, sitting down on a stone ledge somewhere further off to the side, solely so your feet could still touch the water.

After eating, you had changed out of your swimsuit and into some fresh clothes. So you didn’t plan to go into the water this time, just wanted to let your feet soak for a little while. Without the sun's warmth, the water has turned just a little too chilly for your liking anyway.

What a day.

Running into Joel, feeling that energy you both had felt the first time you had met. The hum that draws you to him, like he was a damn magnet.

You think back on Jesse’s words about Joel and how he clearly still had…some feelings for you. And you almost want to believe it but you’d rather hear it straight from the source. Or experience that feeling of need and want once again.

“Want some company?” A southern drawl echoes behind you, pulling you from your thoughts of everything that happened today.

And suddenly your body crawls with a summer’s heat, as if the sun still shines down onto your skin.

You slightly turn to face the man, glancing over your shoulder in the direction of his voice. And there he stands, the man you couldn’t keep your damn mind off of; Joel.

He has also changed out of his bathing suit. Now standing in just his simple gray shirt and a pair of jeans. How he always wore jeans in this Texas heat, you don’t know. But you couldn’t imagine him really just wearing shorts either.

He holds that simple little box you had seen him show up with too. Your gut feeling was right, it must’ve been a gift for you. Maybe it was a parting gift; his last goodbye.

At least he’d look good walking away.

The moon bathed him in a sweet glow. Making the silver in his hair catch strays of light, glittering in the darkness like he was a star himself.

You manage to smile at him then. It was just the two of you, and if he finally wanted to talk…you wanted the closure too. So you give him a nod, scooting further along the stone ledge you sit on, making room for him.

Joel discards the boots he’s wearing, rolling up the bottom half of his jeans too before sitting down next to you. Making sure his jeans don’t get wet but he could also join you in just relaxing in the water.

Neither of you say anything though. Not for a while anyway. You two just sit there, soaking up the silence and the soft lull of waves while Joel strums his fingers along the top of the box. Debating on whether to give it to you or not.

Joel’s the first to break the built up silence with a clear of his throat.

“So,” He starts, gruffer than usual. He was trying to steel himself…trying his hardest not to feel too many things. “How are you?” He finally asks.

Startled by the question, you tear your eyes from the lake to glance at the older man. And you can easily read the nervousness wrinkling his face. It makes you laugh, seeing him fret like it was all too much. Breaking into a fit of giggles as your own anxiety is semi washed away.

“What?” Joel asks with a worried, confused look. As if he’s second guessing what he said, thinking maybe he said something wrong.

You laugh just a little bit longer, wiping a few tears from the corners of your eyes, before finally calming down. “Nothing, nothing,” You say, giggling just a little more before sucking in a breath. “It was just…unexpected is all.”

Joel sighs before giving you a smile, the tension easing out of his shoulders as he relaxes. He managed to chuckle a little with you even.

“You laugh all pretty like, ya know? Reminds me of wind chimes.” Joel hums, catching your gaze.

You blush at his compliment. You want to hide your face from his tender gaze but something inside of you keeps your eyes on him; you didn’t want to look away, especially if this was going to be the last time you saw him.

Joel shifts a little awkwardly as silence threatens to swallow the two of you up again but he didn’t want to allow that to happen.

“Uh, made you this.” Joel softly says, holding up the box for you to take.

You eye the box curiously, searching the present and then his face, before you timidly take the item out of your hand. Forcing yourself not to shiver as your fingers brush against his.

You turn the gift over in your hands, slipping the plain white ribbon off of the container and lifting the lid to examine its contents.

Inside sits a small wooden bird, barely the size of your palm. You remove it from the nest of newspaper Joel likely shredded to keep it from knocking around inside the box too much, taking a better look at the wooden bird. It was delicate and small. Well made and clearly hand crafted, as if Joel had carved it himself.

“It’s a swallow.” Joel hums, his eyes watching over you. He doesn’t even look at the craft he made, could care less about it. He just wants to look at you.

“You…made this?” You ask tenderly, eyebrows furrowing as you stare at the craftsmanship.

Joel nods, his lips a thin smile. He leans forward, rubbing the palm of his hand with his thumb, continuing to stare at you. “Mhm. Had more than a few sleepless nights this past week so I just…made it. Figured you'd like it darlin’.”

Tears prick up in your eyes, threatening to spill over the second he admits to making the pretty bird for you. You have to force yourself to hold the tears back, nodding just slightly back to him in thanks. You bite down to keep your lip from wobbling as you gently tuck the small swallow back into its nesting box, closing the lid and setting it right beside you.

After a few seconds of silence, you sigh deeply. The joy of your shared laughter slowly disappears as the tension of anxiety returns.

“Joel,” You murmur his name, short and sweet, bringing your knees up to your chest. “What are we?” You finally ask. Needing an answer, no matter the outcome.

Would it hurt if he pushed you away? Oh fuck yeah. It would hurt like hell. And for a long time but you’d eventually get over it. But it wasn’t like you two were together now. There was just…such a strong connection between the two of you, like you had never felt before. Like you were meant to be together. Maybe it was something like love at first sight but no matter; you’d move on, eventually.

But on the slim chance he made things official…well, you’d be more than happier to give it all a try. No matter if it was “taboo” or not.

Joel winces at your words. As if he had been trying to avoid the topic for as long as possible. As if he wanted to stay in this little fantasyland with you for just a little longer.

“Darlin’,” He rasps, reaching out a hand towards you but he stops short on actually touching you. Fingers just hanging into the air, itching to hold you. “You know this is… not a good idea.”

“I don’t care.” You argue, narrowing your eyes at him. You can feel your brow tilt in irritation. You knew he’d try his hardest to get you to see it “his way” but that didn’t mean you’d just accept it lying down.

“I know you don’t,” Joel sighs, taking his hand back and wiping it across his face in slight annoyance. He knew this wouldn’t be an easy conversation. “But you should. Whatever this is…I just don’t want to hold you back. No matter how badly I want it sweetheart.” Joel whispers, soft but firm.

Knowing Joel wants you just as bad as you wanted him— the thought rushes every ounce of blood to your head. You shake your head quickly, turning more of your body to him. “Hold me back, how? From what?”

“You know how,” Joel says, avoiding your gaze as you stare at him. His resolve would crumble almost immediately if he looked into your eyes right then and there. “I’m older, darlin’. You’re young and pretty. Should be partying and havin’ the time of your damn life. I wouldn’t be able to keep up with ya. Not like that young, tall fella would.”

You can hear the jealousy dripping in his tone. The sour taste of his words in your own mouth as you repeat them inside your head.

“Fella? What, who?” You puzzle, racking your brain for names of every man you’ve ever met. One look at his tensed face reveals to you exactly who he means; the man who you had been with the entire day. “Jesse?” You bark out, laughing in disbelief at Joel’s suggestion.

“Yeah him,” Joel bitterly says, rubbing his thumb a little harder into his palm. “He’d treat you right and I saw the way he talked to you all day long. His energy, jokes, all of it, he’d be better off for ya than I—“

“Joel!” You interrupt in the middle of his ranting, shaking your head at his attempt to set you up with your best friend. “Jesse is already promised. He has a girlfriend he definitely plans on marrying one day. Plus, we’re just friends. And I’ve never seen him more than that.”

Joel’s jaw clenches as he realizes his jealousy has gotten the better of him. Couldn’t see past his bitterness to think about how maybe the two of you were really just friends. And you think maybe this is it, the moment he finally gives in, but it more or less just takes him further from your grasp.

“Doesn’t matter. Still too old for ya and you’d be happier with someone younger. You’d forget about me in a month anyway.” Joel dryly chuckles. Lying through his damn teeth.

And it pisses you off.

“Ugh!” You groan, pushing yourself up and off the ledge. Sending yourself splashing into the very shallows of the lake water. “Quit treating me like a child who can’t make her own choices! I’m not fuckin’ thirteen!” You shout but only loud enough for just the two of you to hear.

Joel watches you as you jerk to your feet. His once tense face drops to a more concerned and shocked look. He definitely had not expected this outburst. Figured that you’d both say what needed to be said, then go your separate ways, licking your wounds and moving on.

“I’m not tryin’—“ Joel starts but you silence him with just a look as you turn to face him fully.

“I know what you’re doing.” You snap softly, pointing an accusatory finger in his direction. “And I don’t care. Your age doesn’t matter to me. I can make my own choices and my choice is you. I want you, Joel. And I know you want it too.”

Joel’s breath catches in his throat at your words; at his name. It throws him completely back against a wall. His entire argument quickly crumbles down to nothing but dust. You watch him worry on his lip in a last ditch effort to keep himself from entirely giving in.

You take one step towards him, returning from your anger to the softness you usually were. “You can’t tell me you don’t feel it too.” You whisper, fingers trembling, chest quickly beginning to rise and fall, as you take one more step forward. Placing yourself between his parted legs, lifting your hand to press gently against his chest. “That hum beneath your skin. Like we’re meant to be. You can’t deny that.”

Joel swallows, hard. Hard enough you can see the bob of his Adam’s apple; even as you stand above him now. Your eyes trail along his face, from his eyes to the easing of the wrinkles in his face. The slight twitch of his lips as he tries to find any words to say to get you—

No, himself to change his mind.

Finally he settles on just three easy words; “Say it again.” He mutters under his breath. His entire body tensing as he sits on edge, waiting in anticipation for you to repeat your confirmation of wanting him.

You stand firm between his thighs, squaring off your shoulders to give him the visual that you meant business. Your hand skims across his chest, pushing your fingers up and around to the back of his neck. You caress him there gently, thumb brushing along his jaw.

“I fucking want you, Joel Miller. No one else. Just you.”

Joel snaps. His resolve shatters the second the words leave your lips. You barely manage to confirm that you in fact, wanted him more than anything, before he rushes up into you. His hands settle heavy on the curve of your ass, pulling your body flush into his as he captures your lips.

And just like you were really meant to be, you fold into him. Melt into the kiss like it’s the first time, all over again. The grip on his neck brings him just that much closer, pressing his lips into yours even more.

His tongue presses against your bottom lip and you gasp, shivering at his touch.

God how you missed his taste.

“Do you know how fuckin’ hard it is,” Joel mumbles against your lips, using his grip on your body to thrust your hips into his own. “To hold back around you? Fuck, can’t think of nothin’ but you.” He admits, slipping his hand just beneath the edge of your shorts. His fingers press into the soft line of your underwear, teasing you as he devours you.

Your fingers tangle into the curls of his hair lying at the nape of his neck. Panting as he steals your breath away, kissing him with just as much vigor.

“Fuck baby,” Joel groans, slipping his fingers beneath your underwear, gripping your ass in a tight grip. His tongue presses into yours, rolling in sync with every rut of his hips. “Have no idea what you do to me, do ya? Drive me fuckin’ crazy when you blink those pretty eyes up at me. Want you so bad it hurts.”

You whine, grinding your body into his, finally breaking for air. He tilts your head to the side with his free hand where his lips don’t stop. Joel scrapes his teeth against the soft of your throat, planting a hot, open mouth kiss against your pulse.

“Watching you prance around in that damn swimsuit…watching you laugh with another man, shit.” Joel growls, clearly still jealous that you spent the day with Jesse and not him. His hand travels around to the front of your body, fingers pushing fast down into the front of your shorts. His palm lays hot and heavy against your womb, while his fingers slip and circle over your clit.

“Joel.” You squeak, tugging on his hair to detach him from your neck, and to stop his fingers from advancing further. “We’re still…out in the open.”

Joel’s eyes flick across every inch of your face, as if he’s giving you the brief moment to change your mind— to flee before things went too far to turn back. But when you don’t move away, Joel nods just a little. He removes his hand from beneath your shorts, trailing his fingers up across the sensitive skin of your stomach before he places his hand on your hip.

“You sure?” Joel whispers softly, wanting just another small confirmation that this is what you wanted.

You laugh just a little, moving to grab at his hand on your hip, intertwining your fingers into his and giving him a soft squeeze.

“More than fucking sure. Do you have any idea what you do to me?” You chuckle a little, bringing his hand up to your lips. You place a kiss to the back of his hand, seeking out the warmth of his skin.

“Guess I don’t baby.” Joel responds, a smile turning his lips up. His other hand reaches up and pushes some hair back behind your ear, trailing the tips of his fingers down and along your jaw. “I wanna find out though.”

Joel uses your hand in his to pull you back into him, leaning to capture your lips hastily once again. You share another deep, passionate kiss before Joel breaks it this time. He turns, continuing to hold your hand in a tight and sure grip, like he planned to never let you go again, as he steps up onto the ledge he had been sitting on.

“C’mon darlin’.” Joel encourages, easily lifting you up and over the lip as well.

Sand under your feet once more, Joel leans down to grab his discarded items and the gift he had made you, before he’s leading you up the hill. He leads you through the patio, where you briefly stop to grab your own items, trying to contain your laughter. Acting like a teenager sneaking off for the first time.

With your things gathered, Joel continues to lead you to his truck. Entering the small camping/tenting area, where you and Joel silently sneak past the tent he and Tommy had built up earlier. Praying he was dead asleep as Joel opens the back passenger door for you, letting you be the first one to slip into the back of the truck.

After Joel climbs in after you, he locks the doors. Hoping under the night sky, you two would be less visible to the outside world. If anything, he’d start shoving his clothes into the slightly tinted windows to keep any unwanted attention away.

As soon as the doors are locked, Joel is grabbing your body and dragging you back to him.

You smile, biting back a laugh as Joel’s hands return all over your body. He yanks you into his lap, kissing up your neck as your hands settle back onto his shoulders, twirling little bits of his hair.

“Been wantin’ you so bad.” Joel whispers, nipping at your sensitive skin. His hands run up on the outside of your thighs, shoving the very tips of his fingers up and under the back of your tank-top. He smooths hot hands against your back, flushing your body even closer into his. “I’ve been nothin’ but a fuckin’ ass.”

Joel leans back just a little to catch your eye, staring up into your face as you sit just a little above him while in his lap. Wanted you to know he was genuine in his feelings.

“Mm, yeah, kinda.” You agree. A laugh slipping from your lips at the eyeroll you receive from the older man.

“Let me make it up to ya baby.” Joel states, matter of fact with no room for an argument. He was going to make it up to you, one way or another. His fingers knead gently into your back reassuring that this, that you, were what he wanted. And he didn’t want to lose you. Big brown eyes level up at you.

You shudder at his words, your grip tightening on his shoulders. “Better keep your word.” You demand. Joel was serious but so were you.

“Oh I fuckin’ will.” Joel growls, chasing your lips. He kisses you desperately, like he’s never wanted anything so badly before. His tongue presses into yours, one of his hands smoothing around to the front of your body, pushing up against your stomach. He slides his hand up from there, grasping at one of your breasts under your tank-top.

You moan under his skillful hands. Matching his needy, desperate pace with your own. Kissing him back, you sigh his name, swiping your tongue against his and shivering at the taste.

His fingers rub and pinch over one of your nipples. He groans from deep within his chest, rolling the nub across the flat of his thumb once more.

You whine into his mouth, rocking your hips forward into his, begging for attention elsewhere.

And Joel picks up on it immediately.

He smiles into your lips. Pressing a few more kisses into you before he pulls away, continuing to keep his hands busy all over your body.

“Wanna taste that pretty pussy I’ve been dreamin’ about.” Joel groans, slipping his hands out from beneath your shirt and returning them to grope at your ass.

The confession makes your head spin.

“You’ve been dreaming about me?” You whisper, lightheaded and heart pounding so hard in your chest you think you might pass out.

“Fuck,” Joel curses, fingers kneading into your ass once again. He definitely did not mean to admit that but it was too late now. “Every fuckin’ day baby girl. Ever since I got just that little taste of ya…now, I can't get the image of making love to ya outta my damn head. Wakin’ up every mornin’, wishing you were next to me.”

You whine at his confession, clawing at his shoulders as he lays you onto your back into his leather seats. He splits your thighs easily, filling the space between them with his body. His fingers are working at your shorts, yanking them down to your thighs. You help him just a little bit, shimmying out of your clothes with a lift of your hips. The second they slip off from around your ankles, he tosses them into the floorboard of his truck. Immediately he attaches his lips to your cunt in replace of your shorts. He breathes like lava over your underwear, hot and needy as he threatens to devour you once again.

He doesn’t even bother taking your underwear off, he just shoves them to the side. Hooking the elastic over his thumb and pulling them as far over as he can. He leans back just a little to get a really good look at you, groaning at the sight.

“There she is,” Joel softly coos, slipping his other thumb right up against your slowly aching cunt. Wading through the slick beginning to drool because of him. “Fuck, look’atcha. Knew your pussy would be so pretty. You’re always so fuckin’ pretty for me baby.”

Another whine slips past your lips but you nod frantically to his words.

You were made for him after all.

“Wanna hear this pretty pussy callin’ for me, mhm. Wanna hear her purr for me.” Joel chatters, chuckling low and heavy. His tongue replaces his finger, slipping against the folds of your cunt. The groan he releases against your core sends a strike of lightning up your spine. Pleasure crawls over every inch of your body as he begins to quickly lap at your cunt. His tongue drags against your clit, sending another wave of pleasure scorching through your nerves.

“Mmph fuck Joel!” You cry his name, pushing your fingers through his hair as he begins to eat you out. If you had known that your little day dream of this exact scenario was going to play out tonight, fuck you might’ve asked to meet up with him sooner.

Joel chuckles, rolling his tongue against your clit once more. “Shh baby,” Joel hums, using two fingers to press between the folds of your cunt. “Can’t be too loud now.” He reminds you and you immediately seal your lips.

Joel chuckles softly again against your core before he presses a lone finger inside you. Spit and slick alike rolls off his tongue and drips out onto the thick of his finger, using it to open you up and stretch you out for what’s to come.

You stifle a groan at his thick digit pressing into you. Feeling every inch and bump of his knuckle as he twists his finger as far as he can inside you. He’s slow and deliberate in his movements. Testing out how much you could take briefly before he’s adding a second finger with little warning.

Then he begins to move faster, pumping his fingers quicker and a little harsher inside of you. Every curl of his fingers mixed with a press of his tongue against your clit, leaves you gasping; like a fish out of water.

You tremble beneath his touch as a familiar burn begins to throb deep inside your womb. Fuck, you knew he was good with his hands but with just a little bit of teasing, he damn near has you cumming all over his fingers. But god, you didn’t want to cum yet. No, you wanted to share it with him— at the same time.

“Wait, Joel.” You pant, pressing your thighs tighter against his face while yanking on his hair. “Don’t. Not yet.” You beg, breathless and whiney.

Joel smirks from his position, curling his fingers inside you while he presses a hot kiss against your clit. “I wanna taste ya darlin’. Wanna taste ya coming all over my tongue.” Joel argues softly in response, pressing his tongue flat against your cunt to prove a point.

You whine, a shudder wracking your body. Fuck, how could he be so hot all the goddamn time?

“I know, I know but…” You start, brushing your fingers back through his curls. “Wanna taste you too. Please, Joel. I need it.” Pleading with him before slightly shifting your hips, tenderly rubbing your foot against his thigh; telling him what you wanted without actually saying it.

Joel connects the dots quickly as to what you want. And now it was his turn to shudder at your words. Normally he’d protest and finish his job before letting you touch him, needed to please you first, but right now— he’s way too fucking horny. He needed all of you, right fucking now. He could worry about pleasing you again in a little bit.

“Next time.” Joel hums in approval, removing the fingers he had buried deep inside of you but continuing to place kisses everywhere he can reach. His lips skim across your inner thigh one last time before he pulls your underwear back into place, smoothing a few fingers against your panties to thoroughly soak them with his spit and your slick; turns him on knowing how wet you were for him.

Only him. No one else.

Joel crawls his way up to you first. His gaze is hungry as he looks at you, one hand sliding up the side of your body until he caresses your jaw in one big hand. “You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, ya know that sweetheart?” Joel sweetly says, pressing his lips into yours.

You laugh against his lips, rolling your eyes when the two of you part. Hands pressing into his shoulder as you roll him onto the back seats now, trading places with the older man— straddling his waist. You place one kiss against his lips before trailing down to his jaw, leaving quick pecks across his tanned skin, slipping your fingers under his t-shirt and pushing it up his chest.

You place a kiss against the middle of his chest. “Take it off. You won’t be needing it anymore.” You tease, smirking against his body as you sink further down.

Joel shifts to sit up some more, hands grabbing the collar of his t-shirt and giving it a swift yank, stripping himself while you work on the buckle at his jeans. Fingers nimbly work at his button, swiftly undoing the front and sliding his pants down.

You slide into the floorboard of the backseat, knees settling on top of his now discarded shirt and your shorts.

Joel helps you, sitting fully up, swinging his legs to either side of your body and shimming out of his jeans. You drop the fabric beside you, placing your hands against his strong thighs and you can’t help it when your mouth waters instantly at the sight before you.

Joel’s glistening chest from the built up sweat. The salt and pepper body hair dashing along his forearms, chest, legs, and stomach. The softness of his tummy hides the well toned muscle you knew he had and the thought sends lightning straight to your core.

But what your eyes focus on the most, is that damned happy trail of his leading straight to what you’ve been wanting for so long. The tent under his boxers, standing tall and proud; because of you.

You bite down on your bottom lip, pressing your hands heavy on the inside of his thighs. “Fuck, Joel…” You whine, smoothing your hands up and across the thickness in his underwear.

Joel groans at your touch, hips slightly jerking as he seeks more and more from you. Slowly, your hands move across the length of his shaft, jerking him off leisurely; enjoying every breathless hitch and groan from Joel.

“Don’t tease me too much now, darlin’.” Joel mutters finally, pleading under his breath. His body tenses when your fingers brush across his soaked tip, the sigh of your name leaving his lips.

You chuckle but do as he asks. Trailing your fingers up to the elastic of his waistband and giving his underwear a tug.

Seeing him up close and personal this time was…a little nerve wracking. Of course you had seen him last time, when it was just the two of you in his kitchen. But your face wasn’t anywhere near his swollen tip. You had felt it, jerking him off, but now seeing his size and girth…it looked even bigger than last time.

The angry red of his sensitive tip, the veins that lie underneath; twisting up the curve of his cock like a path leading right to where you want to taste him the most.

You tentatively wrap your fingers around the base of his shaft, giving him a slow, testing stroke. Shivering at the soft groan that Joel utters.

“Tell me what you were dreaming about. I wanna hear everything.” You whisper, kissing up from his knee towards his aching cock. Stroking him slowly along the curve of his shaft, leaning forward to place a kiss against the flush of his head. “Did you dream about this?” You teasingly ask, pressing another hot kiss against the slit.

Joel moans your name, his fingers reaching for any hair that may distract you from your task, holding it back and away to help you stay focused. His gaze sticks to you like glue— he wasn’t missing a single second of you tasting him. His pupils are dilated, almost fully blown and taking up every inch of his pretty brown irises. Eyes so full of lust and desire that it makes your cunt throb under his watchful eye.

“Yeah…I sure as hell did,” Joel rasps. His fingers tenderly tangled into the hair he had gathered up.

You drag the flat of your tongue against his sensitive head. Licking straight up the slit of his tip, tasting the sweet and salty of his precum. You half smile up at him, gradually stroking your hand from the base to meet your lips pressing into his tip; encouraging him to continue.

Joel groans, warm and deep from within his chest, his hips shifting slightly to try and reach more of your mouth. “Dreamed of you in that lil pretty dress you wore last time, suckin’ me off just like this. Knelt between my thighs, taking every fuckin’ inch.” Joel grunts, hips jerking again as he replays his dirty little fantasies.

“Fuck Joel,” You huff, half laughing-half amazed he was actually admitting to what he had been imagining. “Tell me more.” You whisper, lips brushing against his skin with every word you say. You give him just a second before your mouth envelopes him. Slipping the head of his cock between your lips and sinking down as far as you could go before the burn of your jaw set in.

Which, really wasn’t too much. He was fucking big afterall.

A string of curses tumble from Joel’s lips and his hand in your hair tightens as you sweep his cock into your mouth. His eyebrows tilt hard as he tries his best to ground himself; to keep him from thrusting the rest of the way in between your lips.

“Christ! Dreamed of that sweet pussy of yours. Makin’ it fuckin’ mine. Fillin’ ya fuckin’ full.“ Joel rambles, following his words up with a deep, dark moan.

You shiver again at his words, thighs pressing harder together. If your panties weren’t ruined before, they sure fucking were now. The way your cunt throbbed with every word he spoke, you could feel yourself drooling into your underwear.

You force yourself further down along his shaft, sucking in every bit of spit and his slick that you could, using it to help you along his stiff cock.

You moan and it forces Joel’s hips to jerk forward. Watching his eyes flutter as the wetness wraps around every inch he so badly craves.

Once you’ve finally swallowed him clear down to the base, nose flush against his abdomen, blinking away any tears his big cock has ripped from your eyes, Joel can feel the back of your throat and it drives him crazy. White stars blink across his vision. It was even better than he could have ever imagined.

“Fuck baby girl,” Joel groans, needy and desperate. His hips stutter, hitting deeper into your throat, curses falling off his tongue. “You have no idea how badly I wanna fuck ya. Jerkin’ off every night since I barely touched you that day. You drive me crazy.”

You moan around the thick of his shaft, your hand immediately shooting between your thighs. Couldn’t hold back anymore. Pressing your fingers into your own cunt, slipping them across the main wetness of your underwear, pressing heavier against your clit.

Joel’s hips jerk in shallow, unpredictable thrusts. He fills every inch of your mouth, leaving only room for your tongue and nothing else.

“Had me fuckin’ my own damn hand, ya know that? An old fuck like me, dreamin’ about that pussy like it’s my first damn time.” Joel chuckles, lifting his hips a little faster. Thrusting every inch harsher into your accepting mouth.

His words have your fingers moving faster. You slip your hand beneath the elastic of your underwear, pressing harshly into your clit, crying around his shaft. You’re quick to slip two fingers immediately inside your soaked cunt, clenching hard around your own fingers.

That familiar burn is settling low inside your stomach once again so you keep your fingers moving slowly, no matter how badly you wanted to make yourself hit that high— you wanted Joel to fuck you into it even more.

Joel can see you riding your own fingers between every lift of his hips and bob of your head; and he laughs at the sight of you touching yourself.

“S’my baby girl gettin’ too needy, hmm?” He asks in a teasing tone, making sure to accentuate his southern accent as he calls out to you.

You glance up at him, catching his eye as your head falls to meet every rise of his hips. You only manage to respond with a whine. Blinking up at him, pleading with him for more.

Joel bites down on his bottom lip, groaning at the sensation wrapping entirely around his shaft. He was getting close too…and he fucking wanted more than just your mouth too.

“C’mere darlin’.” Joel hums, gently coaxing you up and off his thoroughly soaked cock.

You follow his lead, detaching your mouth from his body. His thumb tenderly brushes against your puffy and abused lips, having taken an onslaught of his thrusts and wrapped tightly around every vein and inch of his girth so seamlessly.

“Did such a good job for me baby.” Joel praises, guiding you up from your seated position to him once again. He leads your lips onto his, kissing you a little more gently than before; but not in the slightest less passionate or hot.

You crawl into his lap again, deepening the kiss, feeling up his bare chest as you straddle his waist.

His hands dance light across your thighs, pressing heavier into your body once he reaches your ass. He kneads into your ass, rolling your hips forward to grind you into his proud cock. You gasp against his lips, tasting his tongue in yours briefly, before his teeth gently nip at your bottom lip.

“Sweetheart…” Joel sighs, his fingers flexing across your ass before his warm hands slide beneath your panties, just a little. “Can’t wait any longer.”

Your breath hitches at his words but you nod quickly in response. You couldn’t wait any longer either. Had your own dreams of finally connecting entirely with him that you damn sure we’re gonna have come true tonight.

You stand as tall as you can inside his truck, keeping your eyes directly on his own, while your fingers move around the length of the elastic of your panties.

Joel stops your hands though, rubbing slow circles into your skin briefly before he replaces your hands with his own.

“Take your shirt off too darlin’.” Joel orders, his big eyes staring up at you from his seated position still. His fingers lightly dance along the hem of your underwear, teasing you for what’s to come.

Under his watchful eye, your fingers move to the edge of your tank-top, giving the fabric a quick tug and slipping it from your body. You toss the shirt into the ever growing pile of clothes on the floorboard. Can’t help but shiver once again at his piercing gaze. Skin highly sensitive and burning fucking hot as he looks at you like you’re the only goddamn thing in the entire world to exist. His eyes travel over your exposed chest, lips twitching and jaw clenched as he gets a close up look at what he didn’t get to see last time. Drags his eyes across every curve and inch of your exposed body.

“This still alright?” Joel asks softly, reassuringly smoothing his fingers into your skin. His gaze once more lifts to look into your eyes.

“Fuck, it’s more than okay. I need you, Joel.” You respond with a small chuckle, raising your hands to settle around his neck; secure and snug. A small gesture to reassure him this time.

And it works wonders.

Joel keeps his gaze locked with your own as he drags your underwear down, inch by inch. His fingernails skim across your thighs as he works you out of your panties.

Joel tosses your panties to the side the second you step out of them. Allowing his gaze to briefly look at the soaking wet pussy that calls to him. Eyes fluttering as he stares at the dripping mess that he’s created between your thighs.

Fuck. He should’ve done this sooner.

“You’re so goddamn beautiful, baby.” Joel whispers as he drags you back into him. He kisses you again, hungrier than before now that he’s gotten to see all of you.

You slip back into his lap again, your knees settle into the seats he sits on, kissing him back just as desperately. You grind your pussy flat and deliberately against his cock. Swallowing the groan that slips past Joel’s lips. The tip of his sensitive head easily slips through your drenched seam without an ounce of resistance. Yet you know, no matter, he was going to be a tight fit inside of you.

You break the kiss this time, panting heavy and hot in sync with Joel’s own rapid breathing.

“Christ,” Joel gasps, his eyes fluttering, hips rocking forward as he seeks your core once more. Your name tumbles from his lips as you bump your cunt down onto his sensitive head again. “C’mon sweet girl, don’t fuckin’ tease.” Joel warns. He moves one large hand to grip your waist while the other wraps around the base of his weeping cock. He holds himself steady, barely swiping his head through your folds, before lining himself up.

You swallow hard, fingertips digging into the meat of his shoulders. You angle your hips just right, before lowering yourself down upon him. Your core swallows just the tip of his head and stars dangle across your vision, just like that day in his kitchen. Your thighs tremble but you manage to take more of him, slipping him further inside than just the tip this time. No force on this damned earth would stop you from finally feeling every inch of him.

“Shit, knew I should’ve dragged you away earlier,” Joel groans as your pussy swallows him a little at a time. His fingers on your hips tighten as you take him. “Should’ve fucked you the second I saw you.”

Your bottom lip wobbles at his confession. The fleeting feeling of happiness aches in your heart, knowing he has wanted you the entire time too. That you weren’t alone in your feelings for him.

“Knew your pretty pussy would take me so fuckin’ well.” Joel drawls, hot and dripping with lust. His eyes are locked on where he slowly disappears inside of you.

You whine, high and needy, bracing yourself on his shoulders as you hit the halfway point. You’re unsure how you’ll take all of him when you’re already feeling this fucking full. Every inch, deep inside of you, throbs against your aching walls but fuck if he doesn’t fit so snuggling inside. Leaving no space left for anything else; just him.

You were already his, long before you met. You were made for him.

“Joel.” You moan his name, like it was only yours to be said.

“Shh, I know. Almost there, baby girl. Doin’ so fuckin’ good.” Joel whispers. Encouraging you to keep going and how could you not? You’d do anything he asked of you, especially here at this moment.

Biting down on your bottom lip, you jerk your body harshly, forcing yourself to take the rest of what you’ve been dreaming about. Swallowing him entirely and he sits so deep inside you swear you can feel him twitching against your womb.

He bottoms out inside of you and it knocks any air from your lungs. Your chest tightens with just how deep he sits inside, unmoving.

“S’tight. So tight for me baby.” Joel growls, eyes fluttering at the pressure wrapping around him. His hands tightly grip onto your waist. He sinks a little further down into the seat, angling his hips and planting his feet firm against the floorboards. He doesn’t wait for you to fully adjust before he begins to move. He lifts you up slightly before pressing his hips forward to meet between the gaps.

A cry slips past your lips before you can swallow it back. Mindlessly rolling your hips to meet his erratic thrusts. Grinding your cunt back onto the thick of his shaft. And it’s all so overwhelming your mouth hangs open. A string of curses, pathetic whines, and Joel’s name slips continuously from your lips. You can’t think of a single thought outside of him and how good it feels to finally have him.

“Pretty girl,” Joel moans, his pace picking up, grip tight enough to leave bruises on your hips. “Feel so good. Feel so fuckin’ perfect. Made for me.” Joel speaks your thoughts into existence and all you can do is helplessly nod to what he confirms.

He picks up the pace once again, rocking into you while you roll right back into him. One of your hands flies to press into the back window to keep your head from knocking into it. The glass is fogged and slick beneath your fingers, from the two of you breathing so heavily and the humidity of your bodies connecting together. Praying that no one could see your exposed upper half through the window. Hoping that the cover of night tucked the two of you away as you had sex.

You wanted to savor this moment with just him.

The lewd noises that Joel manages to draw from every inch of your cunt normally would leave you embarrassed. The sloppy wet of your seam as he pounds into it— now it makes you proud. Knowing you had him damn near drooling over you and you alone. Driving him crazy, just as much as he does you.

You chuckle a little, running your hand along his jaw and tilting his eyes up to look into yours. Forcing him to focus on you and nothing else.

“Can ya feel whatcha do to me Joel?” You half sob, smiling as much as you can through the pleasure melting your entire body. You feel his hips stutter at your words and the sudden eye contact but he never slows in his pace. You clench around him, savouring the way Joel’s face twists in pleasure, thrusting yourself down onto him. “Feel how deep you sit inside me?” You hum, brushing your thumb across his bottom lip this time.

“I feel it,” Joel sucks in a sharp breath, pressing his lips a little firmer into the pad of your finger. “Feel how fuckin’ good you take every inch of me baby.” He groans heavily, trailing his fingers from your waist to the front of your body. His thumb brushes against your clit. Rubbing tight and taut circles against the sensitive nub to pull you closer to the edge.

You whimper at the new stimulation, hand falling down to grip the backseat behind him— as that familiar burn etches itself inside your womb. Twisting a hot knife, begging for you to spill over the edge. You lean down, kissing him desperately as the cusp of your orgasm roars closer and closer.

“Can I?” Joel rasps breathlessly. His thumb pressing harsher against your clit. His hips lift in shallow, erratic thrusts as his own high begins to crawl over him.

You nod frantically. Brushing your lips against his. “Please.” You beg, clenching again around his cock. “Make me yours Joel.”

Joel curses under his breath. Chasing after your lips to kiss you. Relentlessly his hips snap upwards, digging deeper into you while his thumb brushes faster against your clit.

“I’m coming. Coming, fuck, Joel!” You weep against his lips but he swallows any and all excess noise; as your orgasm hits you like a train. All the air in your lungs is knocked out with the overstimulating high that strikes through you. Your hips jerk wildly, uncoordinated, as you ride your orgasm out along his shaft. You don’t have to see the mess you’ve made across his lap. Can feel your pussy drooling, dripping and gushing with every deep thrust he continues to press into you.

“Fuck baby!” Joel hisses against your lips. He heaves a hefty groan as he keeps going to reach his own end. “Feel that good? Makin’ a mess all over me, fuck. You’re so beautiful. So fuckin’ perfect.” He babbles.

You shyly whimper, nodding your head in response, unable to find words to speak as the pleasure burns so hot under your skin.

“Gonna fill your pretty little pussy full now.” He promises, mumbling against your lips like a prayer he only wants you to hear.

And he does as he promises. He buries himself deep inside you, pressing harshly against what you swear is your womb, hitting his own orgasm that sends ripples of lava through his body.

“You’re mine, ya hear? Mine, baby girl. All fuckin’ mine.” He mutters quickly at the first wave of his climax. The second roll of his hips, Joel seals his lips tightly against yours. Silencing his own erratic groans and grunts as he cums.

He fucks every drop inside of you. Fills every inch of your trembling cunt with his mark. And he doesn’t stop moving until he’s finally spent.

After he stops moving, your body finally gives in. You lay limp against his chest, head cradled against his shoulder. Your hearts connected, pounding in sync, both of you trying to catch your breath after finishing.

Joel detaches his hands from around your waist, skimming his large, warm hands slowly up and across your bare back. He soothingly rubs your back, kissing the crown of your head.

“Let me see ya baby girl.” Joel hums finally, after both of you have somewhat settled down. That hum, still tingling beneath your skin.

You groan but push up off his chest. Scooting back onto his knees and leaning back, slipping his softening cock out of your cunt. Can’t help but whine at the emptiness and lack of being filled as Joel leaves you.

You lean back just enough to give him a nice view of what he’s turned your pussy into; a glistening, ruined, overstuffed mess.

“Fuck…” Joel groans at seeing his mark dribble out of you. His cock twitching to life once more as his thumb brushes against the curve of your dirtied cunt.

In one swift motion, Joel has you pinned down onto your back, hovering above you with his cock yearning for you once more.

You blink up at him, confused as to what he had planned while you and your back lie against the back seat of his truck. Your hips were already sore, you didn’t know how much more you could take.

But that little dark glint to his warm gaze told you…you definitely were taking a little more.

“I did promise that next time,” Joel hums sweetly and softly, smirking up above you. “You ain’t gonna be able to walk.”

You bark out a laugh at the call back, biting down on your bottom lip as a smile splits across your mouth. You reach up, tenderly holding onto the back of his neck while you lock your legs around his waist, dragging him closer down to you.

“Well, come on old man.” You tease. “I’m yours anyway.”

Joel smirks right back down at you. Accepting the challenge with a hot and heavy kiss. You both were definitely in for a long night.

But he was yours; and you were his.

@ 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐙𝐄𝐕𝐑𝐑𝐀 | 𝐃𝐎 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐏𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐄𝐋𝐒𝐄𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐖/𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐌𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐎𝐍

@lowrisemiller | @chateaujoon

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kurooh · 9 months ago

Note

osamu. anything osamu and his damn muscles pls 😔

warnings ★ very suggestive, gn! reader, feeling him up !!

xoxo, juno ★ miya osamu is a work of art. nonnie i had so much fun writing this i cannot lie 💓

“angel, ‘m makin’ dinner,” osamu warns, voice a little strained when he feels your body press into his back.

“aww, i haven’t even done anything,” you sigh playfully, hands slipping beneath the hem of his loose shirt. he shivers a little at your touch, fingertips ghosting over his abs and moving further upwards.

“yer doing something,” he grunts, heat rising to his cheeks and coloring them with a flush.

“absolutely nothing. no idea what you’re talking about.” osamu thinks you’re the world’s biggest tease — playing with his nipples and emotions as he struggles to continue cooking dinner. if you distract him like this, he might end up undercooking the beef for the curry, and it’ll be your fault.

“that’s enough,” he hisses through gritted teeth, blood rushing from his burning cheeks to his pelvis now, a familiar tightness developing now that you’re around. “tryin’ to cook us dinner.”

“oh, you’ll manage.”

osamu lifts a bowl of vegetables and adds them into the curry, nearly dropping the thing onto the stovetop when you pinch his nipples too tightly.

“damn— alright, i nearly broke a bowl ‘cause of ya,” he huffs, trying to sound angry about the glass stovetop even though it’s too easy to snuff out the growing weakness in his voice.

“just focus on cooking,” you giggle, your hips now pressed flush against his ass.

osamu shakes his head in disbelief, stirring the curry and questioning how strong his will is. just as he decides he won’t fold over nipple play, your soft fingers run down his chest and stroke over the ridges of his abs.

once, twice, three times.

he moans, fully hard now and unbelievably flustered. “y’know what..”

“what?” you purr, pleased by your handiwork.

“get on the fuckin’ counter now.”

“but what about the curry, samu? i thought you were cooking.”

the way you feign innocence and sudden concern for dinner has him clenching his spoon as he tosses it to the side, splattering sauce over the cool part of the stovetop.

“i said, get on the counter.”

#kurooh #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #hq x reader #hq smut #osamu smut #miya osamu #osamu x reader #hq osamu #osamu x you #haikyuu osamu

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michimichim · 2 months ago

Text

Truth or Dare • Giselle (aespa)

spring nights are made for risky decisions—at least that’s what your girl, Giselle, seems to think. between the jacuzzi steam and vodka shots, you’re (willingly) trapped in her games: alluring smiles, cherry gloss, and hands that promise a good time.

contains: g!p female reader, semi-public shenanigans, breeding kink, alcohol use

The kitchen is mostly quiet now, except for the lazy thump of a playlist no one’s really listening to anymore. You’re squinting at a bottle of something clear and suspicious (tequila? Drain cleaner?) when the breeze drags in the smell of wet grass and something floral through the screen door.

The counter’s a graveyard of party debris: Solo cups with lipstick smudges, a bowl of ice that’s now a bowl of disappointment, crumbled chips everywhere.

You grab a glass that’s “clean” if you don’t look close, dump in sweaty ice, and pour. First sip? Regret in liquid form - It hits like a car crash. You grimace, stab a sad-looking lime carcass with a butter knife (‘cause all the spoons vanished hours ago), and squeeze it in.

Stir with the knife. Chug.

“Fuck my life,” you rasp.

No ragrets.

This isn’t how you’d usually spend a Thursday night. You’d rather be elbow-deep in that dog-eared copy of HunterxHunter you’ve read six times - but spring air does stupid things to a person. Like agreeing to a party because Giselle whispered ‘come on, it’ll be fun’ against your neck, teeth tugging your earlobe like you weren’t mid-rant about Hisoka’s… whatever Hisoka’s deal is. Traitorous, weak-willed creature, you.

And yet - Giselle’s mouth on you, her nails digging into your thigh as she hissed “stop being a hermit,”- got you here, choking down a drink that tastes like battery acid and fucked decisions.

You reach for a napkin, elbow knocking the bottle. It sloshes, drenching your hoodie sleeve. “Goddamnit—”

That’s when a laugh seeps through the room, bright, venomous, the kind that makes necks snap.

“-literally ate shit in the bushes,” Giselle’s saying, voice dripping mock sympathy. You briefly glance up. She’s strolling in with Ning glued to her side, both giggling. She’s holding her phone up like a compact, swiping gloss over her lips before puckering them into a ‘O’.

Ning swipes a half-empty bottle of Prosecco off the counter, swigs straight from the neck.

“Cried over his Jordans,” Giselle adds, snapping her phone shut. “Like they weren’t fake anyway. Cringe.”

Ning laughs and slides the bottle back on the counter, “Please. His entire personality was a StockX receipt.” She flicks her hair back, black and poker-straight, like she’s auditioning for a shampoo ad. Giselle titters, satisfied, like this was the reaction she’d been farming for.

And you’re back to scrubbing your sleeve with a wad of paper towels (Spoiler: it’s a lost cause). The fabric reeks of freezer-burnt vodka. You ditch the towels.

The room’s down to its last few people - most having either left or passed out. Winter’s girlfriend’s on the couch, blowing o’s at the ceiling like it’s her part-time job. Someone’s little brother’s spread-eagle snoring beside her. Outside, a couple is eating each other’s faces on the patio, laughter smothered; some girl’s sobbing in the hallway and you think you heard the rest of the girls somewhere outside as well.

You’re about to give up and peel off the hoodie when arms slide around your waist. Warmth presses against your back. Vanilla.

“Miss me?” Giselle’s breath ghosts your neck. Her nails dig playfully into your hipbones.

You don’t turn. “You’re mean,” you mutter, but it’s half-hearted.

She laughs, low, and rests her chin on your shoulder. “Ning started it.” Lie. You glance over, Ningning’s already wandered off, texting furiously on her phone.

You suppress an eye roll. Giselle can truly a bitch at times. But whatever, you’re into it.

Giselle spins you around, teeth sinking into her bottom lip the way you’ve told her a hundred times drives you insane... “We’re hitting the jacuzzi,” she whispers, thumb swiping the wet cuff of your sleeve. “You in?”

Somewhere outside, a sprinkler hisses and a shriek-laugh erupts.

Your gaze drags from her lips to her eyes. Bad idea, that’s usually when you fold. When you look at those glinting lips, cherry-slick. You swallow and drag your eyes upward to her brown, glittering, half-lidded gaze. Amused. Like she’s already tallying her score in a game you didn’t know you were losing, nor playing.

That’s when you notice: she’s swapped her hoodie for a black bikini. That black bikini. The one with the whisper-thin strings you’ve traced with your teeth. The one she’d worn for your birthday, when she’d “accidentally” spilled her drink down your shirt (her signature move, all batting lashes and stifled laughter, like either of you believed it wasn’t planned).

Like she wasn’t already steering you toward the pool shed, her fingers hooked beneath the hem of your shirt, smirk in place.

You’d let her corner you there, of course. Let her press you against the chlorine-sticky shelves, her mouth silencing your half-hearted protest about someone seeing, someone hearing. You always fold. Even now, your dick almost hardens at the memory at how reckless it was, how reckless she is, and how little either of you cared.

The bikini clings to her like it was handcrafted for her body, the triangles tight on her like they’re paid to, barely hiding her hard nips. But it’s the bottom half that really does you, like the way the fabric narrows at her hips, thinning to almost nothing at the back. It’s all engineered to wreck you, and she knows it.

You know exactly how it fits (or barely fits) disappearing between the soft curve of her ass like it belongs there. She likes that part, too. The way that tiny strip vanishes between her cheeks, and how’d you pull the thong back taut between her ass cheeks, causing the little triangle in the front to ride up against her pretty cunt -

The friction had made her wetter than you’ve ever seen her.

It’s your unspoken game - hers, really. You’d spent twenty minutes tracing every cursed string with your tongue while she hissed “hurry the fuck up” through gritted teeth and giggles, her nails leaving indents in your shoulders. You’d been feral that day. All teeth and trembling fingers, her thighs vise-gripping your head as you teased her clit through the cloth, that no-one’s-gonna-hear-us smirk of hers dissolving into sighs.

“You’re obsessed,” she’d moaned, voice cracking as you dragged it out (not minutes, not an hour, but until your knees burned and the pool party’s chatter faded into static.) You ditched, fucked three times in your shitty Corolla’s backseat, and she’d tossed you that hoodie after, smug. Premeditated, every second.

And now? Here she is, reusing the same thirst trap.

You see the trap.

You walk into it anyway.

Your flaccid dick gives a twitch, pulse hammering where her nails dig into your hip. Fuck.

You want her to keep touching you like that. You want to kneel. You want to –

“Jacuzzi,” she repeats, tilting her head, ruddy hair catching the light. Her smirk widens. She knows you’re getting hard. She can feel it, pressed against you. Knows you’re replaying how she’d moan obscenities in your ear, how her legs shook when you’d pulled her back against you, fingers still working her clit before you came inside her. “Again,” she’d demanded, and you’d obey, because you’d burn cities to hear her like that.

You blink. “Yeah, sure.”

Fuck. What’d you just agree to? No, no, no, you didn’t mean to–

But it’s too late, judging by Giselle’s quirked lips. Her hand slips beneath your hoodie, manicured nails scraping your skin. “Good,” she murmurs, slowly skimming her fingers down your navel, moving with every rise and fall of your breath.

“Who’s gunna be with us?”

Giselle slides her hands back around your hips. Your pants are baggy, low-rise, and she has no trouble dipping inside the back of them to grab your ass, looking right into your eyes as she does it. “The girls,” she replies light-heartedly, as if she isn’t kneading your flesh like she’s testing fruit at the market.

You swallow.

Okay, two outcomes here:

You go, and it’s 40 minutes of them dissecting their celeb drama you couldn’t remember even if the WiFi depended on it.

Or, you go, and they roast you both raw because Giselle’s a PDA menace and you’re, well, you. The kind of disaster sapphic who’s lowkey obsessed with her girl’s attention but would literally die if anyone clocked it.

“Don’t look so scared,” she laughs, “Give me a hug.”

“I’m not,” you huff, but still loop an arm around her waist, tugging her body against you. Casual. Real casual. The hug is all PG-13 angles (your hand splayed safe above her bikini ties, her cheek smushed to your shoulder).

But Giselle doesn’t really do casual. Her hips tilt, pressing your thigh between hers, and her sigh is pure theater, hot and throaty against your ear. “Fuck, babygirl,” she murmurs, “Semi-hard already?”

Her fingers skate up your spine, and you stiffen, pulse rabbiting in your throat. Winter’s girl on the couch coughs out a smoke ring that wobbles toward the ceiling. Don’t look down. Don’t—

Too late. Giselle’s leg shifts, and now the seam of your pants grinds against her inner thigh. She hums, low and approving. “Knew you’d cave.” Her lips brush your jaw. “Always do.”

The accusation stings because it’s true. You’ve let her corner you anywhere, bar bathrooms, the back row of a Scream marathon – anywhere her hands could slip under your clothes, her teeth could find your neck. It’s a problem. A glaring problem, according to your best friend/roommate, who once walked in on Giselle riding you in the living room at 3 a.m. (She still sends you Band-Aid coupons as “trauma tax.”)

Giselle’s hands start moving to the front of your pants when Winter’s girlfriend drawls from the couch, smoke curling lazily from her lips. “Get a room,” she says, not looking away from her vape clouds. “Or Venmo me fifty bucks. I’ll watch.”

You freeze, but Giselle just snorts, pressing closer. Her thigh shifts against you, pressing against your dick, and you nearly choke on your own breath. “Don’t be jealous, bookie,” she shoots back, sing-song. “Your girl’s out back trying to French the neighbor’s dog.”

Winter’s girlfriend flips her off before dismissing the both of you. Thank God the couch faces away from you.

Giselle’s hand slips back up, fingertips grazing and toying with you, tracing the outline of your dick and twirling over the engorged head until a wet spot forms. You want to rut into the touch, then hide your face in mortification because fuck, what if Ning walks in? Worse, what if Karina walks in?

What if they see you cornered, weak and pathetic, Giselle palming you through your boxers. And oh fuck, does it feel just perfect there. Just like with her lips, her hand is everything. She slips beneath your waistband before you can process what’s happening, grabbing at your cock.

“Can’t wait to fuck you,” Giselle purrs, thumb pressing just shy of cruel against the tip. You choke back a noise, shoulders tensing as your eyes dart to the living room. Winter’s girlfriend is still entirely distracted, oblivious. The snoring kid twitches.

“Gis—”

“Shhh.” Her lips brush the shell of your ear, sticky with gloss. “Focus,” she murmurs, “Fuck my hand.”

Giselle’s fist closes around your dick, and your back arches, stuttering. You’re slick to the base, twitching, hips jolting forward in helpless, hungry thrusts—fucking into her fist like it’s the only thing worth living for. Her grip’s not just tight, it’s filthy—knuckles wet, fingers gliding through the mess you’re leaking, stroking you with the kind of shameless hunger that makes your stomach flip.

Your brain short-circuits. “Fuck—” you hiss.

Moans break in your throat, breathy and guttural, heat crawling up your spine like it’s trying to burn through your skin. Everything’s hypersensitive; the wet suck of your skin, the muted bass thudding through the walls, the sharp, shallow breaths she lets out against your ear. Her mouth curls, smug, like she knows what she’s doing to you.

“Gi, Fuck,” is the only thing you’re capable of muttering, thrusting harder into her hand with zero hesitation, chasing the wet drag of her fist like it’s the only thing left in your world.

She’s working you like she owns it, like she’s jerking off her favorite toy, and every squelch of her palm around your cock feels obscene—wet, sticky.

Her thumb presses down over the tip, catching the pre-cum and smearing it like she’s painting with it. You jerk at the touch, leaking hotter, messier, your whole cock glossy with it now.

She pumps you harder, slick squelching between every stroke, cock drooling into her hand, “Just like that.” she whispers, pressing her forehead to yours. “So fucking big in my hand. Can feel you throbbing, baby, fuck.”

Your knees nearly buckle, lower belly tingling. That is until Karina’s laugh slices in from the patio—sharp, loud, close—and your stomach drops.

“Giselle—” you grit out, hand clamping over hers. She stills, brow arched. “Karina’s right there.”

“So?” Her free hand skates up your breast, thumb catching your nipple through your hoodie. You bite your tongue. “She’s busy filming Ning’s TikTok. Look.” She nods toward the sliding door, where Karina’s silhouette leans against the glass, phone flashlight aimed at Ning’s. “Distracted.”

Distracted now. But Karina’s got predator instincts—catches every side-eye, every whisper. Last month, she called you out for “eye-fucking Giselle’s ass” when you had come to watch their dance practice. You still haven’t recovered.

Giselle’s grip tightens, her nails grazing your dick. “C’mon,” she murmurs, lips brushing yours. “You want me to stop?”

Yes. No. You’re sweating through your hoodie. Her thumb circles your slit, and your knees nearly buckle. “Fuck me,” you whisper.

“That, I’d love to do.” She nips back at your jaw, her other hand sliding down to guiding your palm to grope her ass. “Grab. Harder.”

You do, hands smoothing to her hips, a bit rougher now, then sliding down to palm her ass—so soft, encasing that teasing little thong. Your fingers slip beneath the cloth, groping the bare muscle, digging in like you want to mold it to the shape of you. You squeeze, knead, pull her cheeks apart just to feel the way she twitches for it. She lets out a moan, kinda loud, shameless, calculated, just to make your nerves spike, watch you panic.

“Quit -” you plead, but she’s already rolling her hips, grinding against your thigh, her hand working you in lazier strokes. The kitchen feels like a fishbowl, every smothered laugh from the patio, every creak of floorboards, ten time louder. You’re hyper-aware of the half-open pantry door, the flicker of the LEDs above the sink, the smack of Giselle’s glossed lips as she kisses your throat.

“Relax,” she breathes, all false innocence. “We’re just hugging.”

“You’re—fuck—you’re gonna get us caught—”

“Mmm, and?” Her tongue flicks your earlobe. “Think Karina’d make a PowerPoint? ‘Slideshow of Your Lesbian Meltdown’?”

You choke back a laugh, nerves fraying. “Stop—”

“Or what?” Her strokes quicken, thumb pressing that sweet spot beneath your head. “You’ll cum? Right here? In my hand while Ning’s debating the best angle for her fucking reel?”

Your fingers dig further into her ass, torn between shoving her off and yanking her closer. The room tilts. Distantly, you hear Ning crow, “A hundred bucks says the neighbor calls the cops again!” and Karina’s sharp retort: “You’re paying when he does.”

Giselle’s watching your face, pupils blown, her own breath hitching. She loves this. The risk, the filth of it all, the way your teeth cut into your lip to stay quiet. You’re close, so fucking close, and she knows it. Leans in, her voice a hot, fucked whisper: “Cum. I wanna watch you cum for me.”

You’re gonna kill her. You’re gonna kiss her. The patio door screeches.

“Aeri! Manager’s blowing up–” Karina’s voice.

You freeze. Giselle doesn’t. Her hand pumps once, twice - cruel - and you spill over her fingers with a silent gasp, vision whiting out. Giselle feels it filling her palm, clinging, trailing between her fingers, so much, obscenely. Her sweet girlfriend, she loves your cock so much. Wants it for herself all the time.

She then yanks her hand free, wiping it on your hoodie under the guise of adjusting it just as Karina strides in. “The fuck are you two—?”

“Hugging,” Giselle chirps, all sugar, slumping against you with dramatic sighs and puppy-dog eyes, her cheek squished to your shoulder. “Y/N’s goldfish, Steve, just died.” Your knees are jelly. Your soul is exiting your body.

Karina’s gaze narrows, flicking between your pathetic face and Giselle’s too-innocent smile.

“Bullshit and gross,” she says finally, tossing Giselle’s phone on the counter. “Save the improv for the Harper’s Bazaar shoot. Soo-man wants you rehearsing the poses. And to confirm the Vogue interview.”

“Ugh, fine. Tell him I’ll wear the stupid feather dress.” Giselle flips her hair, her foot nudging yours under the counter, silently telling you to stay put. “But only if they let me pick the music.”

“Tell him yourself. I’m not your secretary.” Karina turns to leave, then pauses, before deciding on simply leaving, muttering about “fucking nymphos.”

You slump against the counter, half-dead. Giselle’s smirk blooms as she spins back to you, thumb swiping the sweat from your temple. “Steve would’ve loved you,” she purrs, biting her lip to stifle a laugh.

“You’re deranged,” you whisper, knees still liquid, fumbling to adjust your jeans.

She kisses you before you can finish, all teeth and cherry gloss, her hand slipping into your back pocket. “Deranged enough to get you coffee after this shoot tomorrow?”

You stare at her.

“That’s a yes,” she decides, already texting the manager, her free hand toying with the damp edge of your hoodie. “Wear the gray sweatpants.”

Jesus.

Giselle disentangles herself, but not before pinching your ass and dragging her nails across your waistband like a warning. She snatches the vodka off the counter with a victorious flick of her wrist.

“Jacuzzi. Ten minutes. Clean up and don’t make me come back and drag your ass there myself,” she tosses over her shoulder, hair swaying with every smug step.

Then she’s gone, hips swinging, like she didn’t just ruin your life in the kitchen and call it foreplay.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The jacuzzi steam clings to your skin. You’re perched on the edge, legs submerged, toes brushing someone’s shin under the froth – probably Ning’s. Giselle’s palm skims your calf absently, her thumb pressing circles into the dip behind your knee while she argues with Karina about lyrics. Her touch is proprietary, grounding, even as your head swims with the vodka, blur of your fourth shot.

The girls are all half-submerged, flushed and vibing. Momo’s hair fans out in the water like ink. Winter’s girlfriend blows vape clouds - who’s surprised?- that curl into the night. Ning’s arms balance on your knee as she leans in, voice conspiratorial: “…and then he texted ‘wyd’ at, like, 3 a.m. Again. As if I’m his fucking booty call—”

You snort. “Block him.”

“But his dog—”

“The dog’s an accomplice. Block them, both.”

Ning cackles, sloshing water as she throws her head back.

The game you’ve been playing (Classic truth or dare) has been chaos: dares to swap bikini tops (Momo’s still in Winter’s neon green one), truths about body counts (Karina’s “I don’t kiss and tell” was bullshit, and everyone knew it). But now the heat and shots have dulled the stakes. Conversations fray. Winter’s girlfriend scrolls her phone, the blue glow sharp on her smirk.

Until—

“Okay, fuck this.” She flicks her vape. “Let’s revive the game. Y/N.” Her glasses catch the light as she turns. “Truth or dare. Final round.”

The water stills. Giselle’s hand pauses.

You grin, loose and lazy. “Dare. Obviously.”

Winter’s girlfriend leans forward, droplets sliding down her collarbone. “Kiss. Two people. In this circle. Right now.”

A beat.

The jets hum.

You count the silence. One. Two. Three.

Giselle’s fingers tense.

Everyone’s looking at you.

“Daaaaaamn,” Momo drawls, fanning herself.

Then chaos unfolds around you:

“Bold—”

“Woop, woop, bitch!”

Your tongue feels thick. “I … what?”

Giselle’s nails dig into your calf. Winter’s girlfriend swirls her drink. “Kiss someone here who’s not Giselle. Or… admit you’re whipped.”

The word hangs. Whipped. Like it’s a crime. Like wanting your girlfriend, only her, is pathetic. Fuck her.

Giselle’s laugh cuts through the chaos. “Cute.” She shifts, water sloshing, and tugs you in the water. The heat sears up your ribs, and you pivot toward her. Her eyes narrow, a challenge. Try it. “Go ahead, baby. Kiss Ning. She’s been eyeing you all night.”

Ning chokes on her drink. “The fuck I have—”

“Do it,” Giselle whispers, lips grazing your pulse point.

Karina watches, bored but alert. Winter’s staring at the stars, cheeks flushed, bless her heart. Momo’s filming.

And Ning’s right there, cheeks equally flushed, lips parted in a oh-shit grin. It’s easy. Safe.

You turn to her, “Fuck it,” you mutter. “Can I?”

At her nod, you lean in for a clumsy, wet smudge of a kiss. She tastes like coconut lip balm, her laugh soft and surprised against your mouth. You giggle too, pulling back as her hand flutters to your wrist.

Winter’s girlfriend clap like it’s her personal soap opera.

You turn to Giselle, heart hammering. “Happy?”

Her smile’s all too sweet…“Ecstatic.” And then she doesn’t miss a beat. She twists in the water, straddling your lap in one fluid motion. The sudden weight of her ass flush against your thighs, the heat hotter where she grinds down.

Your brain flatlines twice again tonight.

Her hands find your face, palms warm, thumbs brushing your bottom lip before her mouth is plush onto yours, tongue swiping the ghost of Ning’s chapstick off your lips, prying past your teeth. “Mine,” she whispers, low enough that only you hear it.

Cheers erupt around you (Momo whooping, someone gasping “Oh my God”—) but Giselle doesn’t let up. She licks into you again, wetter, hungrier, hand sliding up to grab your jaw, holding you in place like she’s fucking starving. The water churns. You forget how to breathe.

Winter throws a towel at your heads. “Get a room, you two!”

When she pulls back, her thumb smears your lower lip again, wiping the gloss smeared across your chin “Two,” she announces, loud enough to cut through the catcalls. Her voice drips honeyed venom. “Done.”

Someone whistles. Even Karina cracks a smirk.

Winter’s girlfriend salutes with her vape. “Solid B-plus. Minus points for predictability.”

Giselle waves her away, but her grip stays tight on your thigh under the water. Ning’s still laughing.

Someone from the sideline mutters, “Jesus, get a room.”

“We have a room,” Giselle retorts, then leaning into your ear. “That we’ll use later, right?”

You choke on your spit and grab a shot. Fuck, yeah.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ ❁ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The bathroom mirror is cold against your palms. Giselle’s perched on the counter, legs hooked around your hips. You’d meant to shower, to rinse off the chlorine and sweat, but she’d cornered you the second the door clicked shut, fingers twisting in your waistband before you could even peel off your bra.

“Lift me,” she’d said, not asked, chin jerking toward the marble. Now her nails dig into your shoulders as you grind against her, her sandals dangle from her toes, tapping a restless rhythm against the cabinets beneath.

“You’re still wearing those stupid boxers,” she murmurs, teeth grazing your earlobe.

“You’re still avoiding the shower,” you counter, breath hitching as she rolls her hips.

She laughs, low and throaty. The mirror’s fogged behind her, streaked where her head tipped back. “You want to get clean before getting dirty again?” Her hand slips between you, thumb brushing the soaked cotton of your underwear. “You sure ‘bout that?”

The faucet drips. Voices buzz in the hallway, muffled through the door. Giselle doesn’t care. She never cares about shit like this.

You press your hips in slow, dragging thrusts, your cock thick and swollen, forcing the fat bulge right against the soaked crotch of her thong. The fabric barely holds you back, stretched tight as it wedges between her slick folds. Every push spreads her pussy open around the pressure of your cock, grinding hard into her clit through the thin barrier, and she whimpers, all wet and needy, hips twitching to meet yours like she needs that friction just as bad.

Every drag pulls wetter, breathier moans from her—half-muffled between your mouths, like she can’t decide whether to kiss you or just moan straight into your tongue. Your own are going shaky, turning into soft, broken moans that get swallowed. It’s messy, all tongue, but neither of you cares—it’s more about staying connected, about not pulling away from each other’s bodies.

“You’re gonna fuck me like a good girl, hmm?” she whispers into your mouth, voice thick, teasing, ruined. Her cheek then brushes yours, lips planting fluttering kisses along your jaw. “I’m so wet,” she adds, like she’s confessing it, like she loves how fucked and a little desperate she sounds. Her mouth trails soft kisses across your face that makes your stomach knot tight.

You let out a breathless giggle, half-dizzy, and fumble a hand between your bodies, yanking at your boxers with shaking fingers. The waistband slips down past your hips and your cock springs free, slapping hot and wet against your stomach with a slick smack. The sudden kiss of cool air makes you twitch, painfully sensitive.

You’re leaking, thick and steady, a string of pre-cum smearing across the skin of her thigh. You’re flushed, fevered, dragging in a ragged breath as you lean forward and shove her panties aside with one rough tug.

And then you’re right there, your cock slotting between Giselle’s drenched pink folds like it belongs there, the heat of her pussy wrapping around you even without pushing in. She gasps, thighs tensing when your fingers hook behind her knees and push them up, spreading her open as your cock grinds along the soaked seam of her cunt, every pass catching on her swollen clit, slick and shameless.

She wasn’t exaggerating, she’s really fucking drenched.

“You’re, fuck, you’re so wet -”

“Obviously.” Giselle rolls her hips, forcing your dick to slide higher, catching her swollen clit. Her breath hitches. “Been dripping since the kitchen. Since you came in my hand like a fucking—”

You don’t give her the space to finish, and grind over her clit again and again, your cock sliding messily through the slick heat of her folds—soaked, swollen, and parting perfectly around you. Each thrust is frantic, soaked to the point of obscenity, the sound of it loud and wet and constant, like your bodies can’t help but make a mess of each other. Every push of your hips catches her clit just right, dragging the thick underside of your cock over it until Giselle’s moaning into your mouth, open and raw, her legs twitching like she can’t hold still.

She’s spread wide for you, thong stretched to the side, pussy lips puffed and glistening, flushed dark with arousal. You lean down heavier, slurring incoherent shit, hips stuttering, can’t even manage a proper thrust without needing to shove in, grind forward, like your cock refuses to part from her for more than a second.

You drop your grip from her knees and plant your hands on the edge of the sink, bracing hard. Her legs fold up high and lock around your shoulders, heels digging into your back, forcing you deeper into the grind. The porcelain creaks behind her, something scraping loudly against the wall, but all you can focus on is the feel of her cunt, so, so hot and sticky, your cock slipping and catching against her clit with every frantic push.

“Gonna cum just like this?” Giselle taunts, breath hot. “Rubbing on me like a teen? Pathetic—”

“Fuck—stop—”

“Make me.”

You’re so slick now it feels like you’re drenched in her, your cock dripping from the sheer mess you’ve both made. Giselle grabs you harder, nails scraping down your arms, her legs quivering where they’re hooked around you. Despite the teasing, she’s shaking, breath stuttering, and you can feel the way her clit’s gone puffy and sore from the constant attention—but you don’t stop. This is your revenge.

Then her mouth is on yours again.

Not aggressive. Not teasing. Just… Sure. Certain. Hers.

You answer without thought, lips parting on a whine. Your tongues slide together, wet and needy, curling and tasting and pulling, your breath catching in your throat as your heart hammers like it’s trying to punch through your ribs. You kiss her back like you're starving for it, sloppy and unashamed, the sound of it bouncing raw and echoing off tiles.

And then, no warning, no easing. Your hips shove forward and your cock sinks into Giselle, hot and thick and stretching her open in one slick, devastating push.

She moans- a sound torn straight from her chest, half-shock, half-relief, cracking wide open into something wrecked and perfect as your hips start pounding into her, relentless from the start. Her walls grip you, tight and soaked, the glide almost too easy from how wet she already is.

Her nails dig into your arms, hard and sudden. “Wait—wait,” she gasps, voice shredded but firm. You freeze, cock buried deep, twitching inside her as your pulse slams through your ears. Panic spikes. Did you hurt her? but then she looks up with that up-to-no-good smile and bites her lip, “Turn me around,” nodding toward the mirror. “I wanna watch.”

Your brain stalls. What?

She presses gently at your chest, not pleading, commanding. “Behind. I want to see you fuck me.”

The demand clicks. The memory slams into you, her sprawled across your bed weeks ago, scrolling your camera roll, pausing on a blurry mirror selfie she took of the two of you. “Hmm,” she’d bit her lip, tossing your phone aside. “You ever fuck someone in front of a mirror?” she’d asked, casual as if discussing the weather. “Like… watching yourself fuck? Kinda vain, but,” She’d shrugged and smiled, running a hand through her red strands, toe tracing your calf. “Can we try one day?”

You’d choked on your apple juice. She’d just laughed.

You blink back to the present. Giselle’s already wriggling off the counter, flushed and impatient, and you move fast, hands at her waist, easing her down, sliding out. Your cock leaves her soaked, a thick string of cum and slick still connecting you together.

“C’mon,” she breathes, turning smoothly, planting her palms flat on the counter. The mirror frames everything: her lips bitten red, her cheeks blotched with heat, lip gloss smeared across her mouth, “Fuck me.”

You swallow, hands trembling as you grip her hips. Her thong’s a soaked scrap, shoved aside. The bikini top’s strings dangle loose down her back. “Arch back, please,” you instruct, dragging a finger up the hem of her bikini top. Her nipple pebbles under your thumb as you graze it. So responsive it makes your cock twitch.

She does as asked, palms sliding up the mirror as she arches her back hard, ass tilting up for you. The bikini top’s strings dig into her skin, triangles straining. You hook two fingers under the damp fabric, yanking it up until her tits spill free, nipples hard and flushed. “Y/N—” she moans, but it’s swallowed when you pinch one roughly, rolling the bud between your fingers as you line yourself up.

The strings of her bikini top dig into her back, the triangles straining uselessly over her chest. You hook two fingers under the fabric and yank. Her tits spill out, heavy and flushed, nipples stiff and aching for your mouth. “Y/N-” she gasps, but it’s swallowed by a moan when you twist one nipple, rolling the bud between your fingers just as your cock presses back to her cunt.

“Look,” you coax, nodding toward the mirror. “Look at what I do to you.”

And then you drive into her in one brutal thrust.

The mirror rattles. Giselle’s mouth falls open in a silent scream before a strangled moan tears free. Your hands claw at her hips, dragging her back onto you as you pound into her, relentless. Her tits sway with every slap of skin against skin, your cock pistoning deep into her soaked heat as the counter groans beneath her.

“God,” she chokes out, half-laugh, half-desperate cry. “Yes—yes.”

You look up. Your reflection is wrecked: jaw tight, eyes blown wide, hips jerking like you’re possessed. Her mouth is slack, breath fogging the mirror, but her glazed eyes doesn’t leave her own reflection. You look down to watch the way your cock disappears inside her, glistening with slick, the obscene stretch of it, the way her body gives around you.

“Harder,” she breathes, not to you, but to her own reflection, eyes wild. “Harder, fuck!”

You slam into her deeper, harder, and she jolts forward, palms sliding on the mirror as your cock splits her apart, slides deep into the clutch of her muscle, dragging every sound out of her like you’re wringing her dry. Her legs are spread, shaking, skin flushed everywhere you touch her, chest pressed to the mirror, ass pushed high.

You moan, guttural and close to cumming. She moans back, eyes locked on the mirror like she’s watching a dream come true.

Giselle’s barely got her toes on the ground anymore. Every thrust from you has her lifting off her feet, teetering, dangling, your cock punching up into her so deep she has no hope of holding herself steady. Her body gives, legs quivering, cunt greedy and wide open, swallowing you like it’s desperate to keep you, like it knows you’re about to flood her and doesn’t want to miss a drop.

She’s dripping. You hear it, feel it, the way your cock slicks through her over and over again, every vein dragging along her cunt walls, every pull-out thick with strings of precum. Her thighs are a mess. So are yours. Every time your hips meet hers, it sounds like something’s breaking.

“Fuck, so tight,” you groan, breathless, a broken record. And you repeat it, over and over, a mantra made for her cunt alone.

The bathroom echoes with it: the slap of skin-on-skin, your groans, her cries, the wet, sticky drag every time you pull out just enough to slam back in. It’s loud. And Winter’s room is right next door.

You don’t stop.

Wouldn’t even if Winter banged on the wall and begged.

“More,” Giselle pants, and it doesn’t even sound like a request. It’s a command.

“More of my dick, Gi? You want it to split you open?” Your voice is ragged, trembling with the way her cunt drags on you. “Hmm? Gaping for me, taking every inch.”

“Fuck, yes.”

You grab her by the hair and shove her face against the mirror, fog blooming across the glass from her ragged breath. Her cheeks flush darker. Her lips are parted. And her toes? No longer touching the floor. Every time you ram into her, her feet lift higher, curling—like she’s being hoisted by the sheer power of your cock alone, like her body’s forgotten gravity in favor of getting fucked open.

“I'm gonna cum,” Giselle gasps, voice wrecked and raw. “Gonna cum. Gonna fucking cum so hard on your dick, fuck, harder! Cum in me!”

Your brain shorts out.

“In you?” you rasp, your whole body thrumming. You shove in harder, deeper, until her body’s flush against the counter, hips slamming into porcelain. “You want me to breed you, huh? Fuck a baby into this tight little cunt?” Your voice breaks, low and filthy. “Fill you up, ruin you for anyone else. Knock you up right here against the mirror so you watch yourself take every fucking drop—"

Her cunt clenches so hard around your cock it nearly sends you to your knees.

You grip her hair harder, drag her face up to see what she looks like fucked out. Her reflection streaked with fog, eyes glazed, drool clinging to her lip. Her body shakes.

“I’m gonna fucking cum in you, Gi,” you hiss through your teeth, like it’s being ripped from your core. You grind into her with sluggish, longer thrusts, the tip of your cock pressing into the spot that has her seeing stars. “You’re gonna take it? Promise you’re gonna take every last drop, and you’re gonna cum when I do, yeah? Cum when I fill you up-"

“Oh-yes!” she squeals, voice shattering on a moan when you hit that spot just right. Her back arches, cunt choking your cock, and you feel everything, down to her body twitching as she teeters on the edge.

“Fuck, I’m gonna-” You can’t even get the words out before they melt in your throat. That thought, her dripping full of you, leaking down her thighs, maybe taking, maybe really taking is what breaks you.

Her pussy clamps around you and she cums, shuddering and wailing, legs quaking on either side of your body as her orgasm floods over you. You go right with her, muttering something, cock slamming in deep, your hips locking as your body jerks uncontrollably. You spill into her with everything you’ve got, moan ragged and cracked, hot, thick, endless. You gasp, twitching through the aftershocks as her cunt milks you for every fucking drop.

She wants it. The idea of breeding her, of your cum spilling back out of her used hole and soaking the floor, it shatters you.

You collapse forward, breath heaving, forehead against her spine. Still buried deep. Still twitching inside her.

“Oh,” you whisper. “I could die right here.”

Giselle hums, delirious, and giggles into the fogged-up mirror: “Wow.”

You stay draped over her, skin slick, bodies still fused. Her thighs twitch, cunt still clenching weakly around your softening cock. You don’t move. Can’t.

She’s trembling underneath you, breath ragged, until finally, finally, she draws in a fuller breath and turns her head just enough to kiss you. It’s slow, a little shaky, and when her lips part against yours, you hum, maybe even whine, a soft, broken sound, one last lazy grind of your cock inside her making both your bodies jolt. You’re overstimmed and exhausted, but you kiss her back. She sucks at your tongue, licking deep and slow, until you go fully soft and slip out, your cum following in a slow, lazy trickle down her thighs.

You both hiss at the loss.

Your lips trail kisses along her shoulder, warm and gentle now. “Fuck,” you whisper against her skin. “I loved that. You. That.”

It’s true. Every dizzy, filthy second of it.

She smiles at that. Except it’s...off. Just a little strained at the edges. But you’re still buzzing, floating, caught in the haze, so you don’t think much of it.

You shower together. Wash off the mess. Her body presses against yours under the water like she doesn’t want distance, like she’s still hungry for you even now, but when you soap up her back, she doesn’t quite lean into it the way she usually does. Still, you rinse, dry off, curl into bed like everything’s fine.

And it kind of is. Mostly.

She pulls you against her chest, and you go willingly, cheek pressed to her breast, her skin warm and soft. One hand runs slow nails across the nape of your neck. It’s comforting. You could fall asleep just like this. You probably will.

Until she says—

“Did you mean it?”

You hum. Eyes still closed. “Mean what?”

Her hand pauses. “When you said you loved me.”

Your brain stutters. You blink your eyes open, more awake now. Her chest doesn’t rise the same way. She’s stopped breathing quite so evenly.

“I...wait, when?”

“During sex.” Her voice is quiet. But not small. It’s pointed. “When you were—inside me. You said, ‘fuck, I love you.’”

Oh.

She must feel your body shift, the way you go still, because she scoffs, a little bitter. “You don’t even remember.”

“No,” you say quickly, “no, I just …” You sit up halfway, heart pounding suddenly, “I didn’t realize I said it out loud.”

“So you do remember.”

“I …” You frown, searching through the haze. Everything had gone so fast. All sensation and no pause. But that moment—her cunt clenching around you, cumming, the overwhelming everything of her—it’s there. The feeling. The words. They were real.

“I don’t remember saying it,” you admit, voice soft. “But that doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

She turns her face toward yours, “You mean that?”

You don’t hesitate now. “Yes. Gi. I fucking mean it.”

She doesn’t answer right away. But the silence this time feels fuller, thicker, like something swelling between you instead of falling apart.

Then her lips press to yours again. Softer. She kisses you like she believes you. And maybe for the first time, she really does because she confesses those three little words back and adds: “And so did Steve, rest in peace little guy.”

Before you’re groaning, smothering her face with a pillow and she’s cackling at you.

frannie's note: it's been a while since i wrote fics with cute endings, lol! hope you enjoyed it as much as i enjoyed writing this ... (p.s. the two angels who've won the challenge and guessed the prompt right will be summoned and revealed soon :p <3)

click for m.list

#giselle smut #giselle x reader #aeri uchinaga smut #aeri uchinaga x reader #aespa smut #girl group x female reader #girl group smut #gxg smut #gg smut #sub kpop #kpop smut

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aziawow · 8 months ago

Text

now that we're here... (benny weir x f!reader) nsfw, 6.6k words

summary: in the heat of the moment, you and benny sleep together. you don't even kiss. a devilish plot (and teenage awkwardness) keeps you from talking to him about that night. the solution, however, might just be part of the very thing you're avoiding.

warnings: nsfw, loss of virginity, unprotected sex (DO NOT EVER HAVE UNPROTECTED SEX!!! USE A CONDOM EVERY SINGLE TIME!!!), implied reader isn't a virgin, blood, language, devil mention, implied animal abuse, death (of ocs), panic attack. if there are any other warnings please let me know so i can add

notes: no use of y/n, she/her reader, can also double as a rory x platonic!reader bc they're such besties. this fic is so fun pls give it a read!

You’re not entirely sure how it happens. Seriously. Yes, you’re super ultra mega attracted to Benny, but you never expected this to happen, especially as suddenly as it did.

You’re a planner, extremely detail oriented, and you’re almost never taken by surprise. Impulsivity isn’t you, it’s Benny. So what made you throw caution into the wind and do this?

You’re not even together; you didn’t even kiss.

Suffice to say, you’re freaking the fuck out.

***

You and Benny are chilling together, watching a movie on his bed. It’s rare for you two to be alone, but Ethan had to help his parents with whatever, Rory was doing whatever Rory does, and Sarah and Erica were having fun in town. They invited you, but with the supernatural craziness of the last few days, you just wanted a quiet night in for once.

Years of familiarity resulted in you and Benny being pretty comfortable with each other, so you were cuddled together, you mostly on top of Benny while you both made fun of the movie and stuffed your faces with popcorn.

You think it happens because you got thirsty.

One second you’re reaching across Benny to grab your drink, then another has Benny hissing through his teeth and grabbing you. He held you still, and you glanced up.

His eyes were squeezed shut, and a peculiar red flush adorned his face. His breathing was quickened, and he was practically shaking.

Startled by his behavior, you sat up, still half on his lap and completely oblivious.

“Benny, what’s wrong?” You place the back of your hand on his cheek, thinking he might have a temperature. Hot, but not feverish. You scoot forward a little to reach his forehead, and Benny gasps.

“Please,” he strains, “stop moving.”

Your eyebrows knit together. He was making no sense. “What…”

Then, you feel it.

Your leg was brushing against his very prominent, very hard, erection.

“Oh,” you gulp.

Benny’s eyes spring open, his mouth starts to move, but he can’t seem to say anything. You know he’d try to shrug this off, tell you it’ll go away, and apologize to lessen the sheer awkwardness of the moment.

You don’t want him to.

His lips are parted, panting quietly, face blushing the prettiest red you’ve ever seen, skin sheening with sweat, and his eyes? One part horrified and the other completely and utterly aroused.

You really don’t want to waste this moment.

Without thinking, you place a hand on his upper thigh. Firm enough to not get lost in translation but gentle so he could brush you away if he didn’t want this after all.

Your eyes meet, confusion and hope and desperation swimming in his. Slowly, you slide your hand upward, waiting for him to swat you away.

He doesn’t.

When you reach his front, you apply pressure and palm him through his pants.

Benny groans delectably, and his eyes roll to the back of his head.

You can feel yourself get wet at his reaction, the burn between your legs throbbing as the seconds pass. The fact that one little touch from you elicits a response like this makes your veins rush with power.

Then, he moans your name.

You’re done playing. You unzip his jeans and push them down. Benny, who has all but collapsed on his pillows, eagerly helps you slip the rest of it off.

You climb on him again, fully this time, and take him into your hands. You pump him a few times, having to wet your hands with your spit. He’s shaking under you, making these small pathetic noises that have you grinding on his thigh.

He’s lasting for a lot longer than you expect a teenage boy to, especially a virgin.

Benny surprises you yet again by sitting up abruptly, and you let him go. He takes his shirt off, and when it’s discarded somewhere on his messy floor, he presses your foreheads together, mouths breathing into each other but not quite touching.

His hands play with the hem of your shirt.

“Benny,” you moan, when his fingers disappear under the fabric and press against your hot skin.

“Can I take this off?” He asks, throat raspy and deep. You nod at him, and your top joins his on the floor before you can blink.

Your hands roam each other’s bodies, just feeling and squeezing. Benny nuzzles your neck and collarbones, pressing kisses and leaving nips here and there. You grip his hair and pull, feeling the whine of pleasure Benny lets out against your skin.

After a few moments of this, you realize Benny is nearly naked, and you still have your pants on. You pull away from him and sit up higher on your knees. When Benny realizes your next course of action, he wastes no time in helping you rid yourself from your pants, and when they’re gone, he grabs a handful of your ass and blinks up at you, wide and ready.

You reach behind your back and unhook your bra, peeling it off slowly, almost painfully so, for Benny. You toss it aside, and all he can do is stare.

You reach for his hands and place them on your breasts. When he starts to feel you up and squeeze, you throw your head back and keen at the sensation.

“Fuck,” you gasp. You look down at Benny, and he’s peering up at you through his dark lashes with nothing but want behind his eyes. Instinctively, you pull his head to your chest, and your pleasure multiplies when Benny immediately starts licking and sucking and kissing you all over.

Your legs are delightfully weak at this point, so you push Benny back down on the sheets and fall on top of him. You’re still touching each other and it feels like he’s become a second skin. You hardly register his hand going further down until it rests on your lower abdomen, toying with your panty line.

“Can I touch you?” he all but pleads, and who were you to deny him?

You’re nearly sobbing when he slips his fingers into your folds, feeling the wetness he caused. You can tell he’s trying to finger your clit, so you decide to be a good partner and guide him to its location. You shudder when he finally finds it on his own and begins to rub, the friction nearly too much for you.

You’re kissing and biting his skin, one hand gripping his sheets and the other skimming along his chest, your nails scratching and digging into him. You grind back on his hand, so he picks up the pace and you know right then you’re about to cum.

“Benny,” you warn. “Benny, don’t stop.”

He doesn’t, and you cry into his neck when you orgasm on his fingers.

You both lay there panting, but you have no time to bask in the afterglow when you remember he hasn’t came yet.

You get on your hands and knees above Benny, and you lower your face to his, still not touching except your hair brushing his.

“Do you want me?” you ask. You want him. You want him so bad you don’t know what you’d do if he said no.

He nods, and your heart flutters.

“No,” you whisper. “I need to hear you say it.”

He nods again. “Yes. Yes I do. Please,” he begs. He starts to babble his affirmation and continues to do so when you get your underwear and his boxers off. You grip him and slick his head up with your juices, and when you finally sink down, Benny shuts up and you both sigh as you seat him fully inside you.

You start to rock, fucking yourself with his cock and feeling so, so good. Benny’s hands find your hips and together, you find a pace as you ride him. Your hands are on his chest as you slide up and down on him. He begins to feel you again, your torso, your breasts, shoulders, and hair. You don’t want him to stop exactly, because it makes the pleasure increase tenfold, but you’re in control, and it's so hot when Benny does what you want.

You grab his wrist and pin them on either side of his head, and the flash of lust in his eyes as you do so makes you smirk.

You keep holding him down as you pump in and out of him, as you rock against him, but after a while your legs begin to ache. Benny, feeling you slow down, takes the reins.

You let him go, and he wraps an arm around your body, pulling you down flush against him. The other hand weaves through your hair, angling your head once more into the crook of his neck. Holding you tight, he fucks up into you, and you feel something you never have before.

For a virgin, he’s a natural at this. Your bodies know what they want and how to get it, the carnal desire guiding you the whole way. You can feel him pulse inside you, and you know you’re both about to cum when his thrusts grow quicker.

“Benny,” you moan into his ear, and that’s all it takes. His motions get sloppier as he climaxes, but you don’t care because you’re in the middle of coming yourself.

You’re laying there, trying to catch your breath and clinging together tightly. He’s practically hugging you, and you're running your fingers through his hair.

You know you can’t stay like this forever, so you pull off of him, both of you wincing as you do so. You want to find your clothes and dash, but your legs wobble and you fall back down on him.

You expected Benny to crack a joke like he always does, but when you turn around, he has an arm thrown over his eyes. His chest rises and falls quickly, and you wonder if you should risk it and leave after all.

But then, Benny wraps an arm around you, much gentler this time. “Good night,” he says softly, and he’s out.

You’re actually grateful Benny doesn’t seem to be aware of aftercare, because you have no idea what to do, and would have even less of an idea if he stayed awake and wanted to talk about what just happened.

You’re contemplating whether to stay or go, and when you finally decide, your eyes slip shut, and you cuddle into Benny’s warmth.

The next morning, you have a proper freak out.

You need to talk to him, you need to not talk to him. You need caffeine and a pregnancy test and a change of clothes. You need an ice pack and a salt bath because holy fuck you’re sore, Jesus Christ Benny.

You need Sarah and Erica.

Luck is on your side today, because as you make your way into school, there’s no sign of Benny. You find who you need chatting at Sarah’s locker, and when Erica sees you, she immediately asks what’s wrong.

“Oh my god, I don’t even know where to start,” you choke. They blink at you and you start to ramble. “I did something so stupid last night, But it also wasn’t stupid except for the parts that were but ohmygod I need to tell you something. It cannot wait and I am freaking out.” You pause to take a breath. “I think my heart is about to give out.”

“Okay, okay relax,” Sarah calms you down. “We have 20 minutes before first period. What’s up?”

“Hold that thought, Sarah, I think she needs to sit down.” You nod, so the girls take you to a more private area, which turns out to be an empty classroom, and as soon as you get there you crumple onto the nearest chair.

“So… what's up?”

You sit up, your whole body jittering with nerves. You wanna tell them so bad but you don't know how. This is a kind of confession that needs a strong lead to get there, but you’re totally blanking.

“Well?”

It burst out of you, “Benny and I slept together!”

Neither girl moved. They stood there, gaping like fish. You knew they believed you, this isn't something you'd lie or joke about. Oh how you wish you were.

“How?” Erica finally spoke.

You grimace. “Well, it was kind of an accident at first. We were just watching a movie, then we got really horny at the same time, and it just went from there.”

Sarah’s face twisted at your words. “Were you at least safe?”

You pinched your lips together and avoided their gaze.

Sarah groaned and Erica exclaimed, “Are you serious? That was so stupid!”

“I told you I did something stupid! I wasn’t really thinking about protection in the heat of the moment and I seriously doubt Benny had a condom laying around.” You stop then. “Oh my god. I took Benny’s virginity.”

At your words, Sarah and Erica looked at each other. “Ewww!”

“You did what?” a voice shouted from the previously closed door.

Rory.

Son of a bitch.

Erica pulled him into the room and slammed the door shut. You’ve never been more thankful for her as she began to threaten Rory within an inch of his undead life. You expected him to wet himself, but Rory’s face was calm, and not the kind of blankness you’re accustomed to seeing on his expression.

He huffed. “No wonder Benny was being so weird this morning. I thought losing your virginity was supposed to change a guy in a good way. His face looked exactly like the time I accidentally dropped him in a dumpster.”

That… did not do anything good for your ego.

“He hates me,” you pout.

“I don't know about that,” Rory shrugs. “He asked if I saw you and told me to tell him if I did. Oh, well now that I’ve seen you, I should probably go tell him.” Rory started to walk away, but the three of you shouted after him and dragged him back.

“Okay, jeez. I don’t get what the big deal is.”

Erica facepalmed and Sarah scoffed. “The big deal is that two close friends slept with each other. That’s not a thing friends do! It’s probably awkward for them!”

You sigh. “Guys, it’s more than awkward. We didn’t even talk about it. I left before he woke up.”

Erica gasps, “You did not.” Sarah and Rory both wince, and again, this did not make you feel better.

“What was I supposed to say! It happened so suddenly—we didn’t even kiss!”

The three of them pause and gawk at you. You threw your hands up in surrender.

“It just didn’t happen. We were kinda focused on other things.” You were pulled back to the memory, his lips and hands everywhere, his whiny little mewls and pants hot and breathy in your ear…

“Oh my god. She’s thinking about him right now, ewww!” Erica squealed.

“Wait, was Benny actually good?” Sarah asked in disbelief.

You sigh dreamily, “Let's just say, if he wasn't already a spellcaster, he'd still have magic in his fingers.”

“EWWW!” Three voices cried in unison. Rory gagged and Erica covered her ears. Sarah closed her eyes, her worn expression letting you know she very much regretted asking at all. All three looked rather like a steak to the heart would be a perfect end to this conversation.

The end, however, came in the form of the warning bell. Before leaving you swore all of them to secrecy, with an emphasis on Rory’s discretion. He gave you a thumbs up and said “You can count on me!” You were not confident in his ability to keep his mouth shut.

Classes went on, but you were on edge in fourth period, the first class of three you and Benny shared, not including lunch. You got there early, as usual, and Benny came in second before the bell, also as usual. You didn’t dare look up at him when he walked by you, knowing it was him by his clumsy footsteps and the scent of his cologne. He sat behind you, and you felt the weight of his stare on you the entire class period. When the bell finally rang you were first out the door.

Your whole group usually sits together at lunch, unless the dorks had a mathlete meeting or Erica decided to sit with her boytoy of the week, which happens more often than not. She promised to sit with you and Sarah today just in case a buffer (or a badass vampire) was needed.

Rory is the first of the boys to sit down and starts yammering about his day. Apparently the stray cat he feeds in the junkyard went missing and it’s been days since he saw it and he’s getting worried. He was in the middle of the “epic” tale of their friendship and why they don’t try to eat each other anymore when Benny sits down. Right in front of you. Where he always does. Very normal, but you can’t ignore the shaking feeling that no, everything is decidedly not normal.

Unfortunately for all of you, Rory trails off.

The table is silent for a long, long while.

You want to say something so bad, you hate this awkward tension between the two of you, but you can’t speak. It’s like your voice was stolen by teenage embarrassment.

You have enough strength of mind to meet Benny’s eyes, only you’re unable to read him. Is he disgusted? Regretful? If so, of what specifically? Is your friendship completely over? He just looks and looks.

Just as a headache began to form between your eyes, Ethan barrelled into his seat in an anxious flurry. You’ve never been happier to hear the words: “Guys, I think we have a problem.”

Your focus is 100% on Ethan now, you don’t even notice the pinch of Benny’s brows at his best friend's words, or the way his fingers twitch for his spellbook, or the way he licks his lips like he always does when he concentrates.

It’s Benny, of course you can’t help but notice.

Except, something Ethan just said actually pulled your focus. “Wait, you said you saw strange markings in your vision. Was there anything concrete? It sounds like whoever drew them and left the animal hearts and talismans were attempting a ritual.”

Ethan nods. “There were pentagrams all over my vision, and there was a flash of goat hooves and a clock.”

“A clock?” Benny asks.

“Yes,” he confirms. “The hands were set to midnight.”

“The witching hour,” you and Benny speak in unison. You snuck a peek at him, almost startling when you see he did the same. You dart your eyes away, and a sinking feeling hits you as you realize what Ethan’s vision most likely meant.

“Rory,“ you start slowly, “what color is your junkyard cat?”

Your friends tense as you say this, also connecting the dots. Rory, bless him, remains oblivious.

“He has black fur! That's why I named him Shadow Ninja! I hope the little guy is okay…” Rory digs into his sandwich, and you don’t know if he’s being willfully ignorant to spare his own feelings, or if he genuinely knows nothing about superstitions. The group glances at each other, all silently agreeing to keep Rory in the dark.

“We need to find out who’s behind these rituals. It’s one thing if they’re idiotic humans, but another if they’re witches,” Sarah comments.

“What do they even want?” Erica asks. “What are the rituals for?”

“Well, if Ethan’s visions and the ritual’s remnants are anything to go by,” you muse darkly, “I’d guess they’re trying to summon the Devil.”

Benny hums. “Making a deal with the Devil is not good, Grandma says that all time. We need to find out for sure where the rituals took place.”

He begins to flip through his spellbook when Ethan asks why the location matters.

Then, it hits you. “Ley lines.”

“Exactly,” Benny confirms, but he doesn’t look at you. “If they’re doing the rituals on the ley line, it’ll be easier to find out where they’ll go next.”

Sarah puts a hand on your arm. “Hold on, what are ley lines?”

“They’re invisible, mystical energy lines that run underneath the earth. They connect various historical sites, prominent landmarks, and sacred spaces to conduct the energy. They’re said to amplify the supernatural, so it makes sense if there’s one running through Whitechapel.”

“There is,” Benny says. He flips the book around and shows everyone the page he found. It details the line running through your province of Canada, but there isn’t anything you recognize. The map isn’t updated for the 21st Century, apparently.

You make plans after school to go ley line hunting, deciding to split into three pairs to cover more ground, one vampire and one human in each. Out of everyone, you have the most success at keeping Rory on task, so you’re partnered with him. His protective side comes out most often with you, being the only fully fledged human of the group, no vamp, seer, or spellcaster powers in sight.

You can fend for yourself of course, though you find fighting magic with magic more often than not solves the problem. It’s no bother to you when you have brains. You help Ethan make the plans and connect the dots, you don’t need to execute them.

Admittedly, the idea of summoning the Devil scares the shit out of you, it also helps take your mind off of the Benny issue you’re facing.

You and Rory have been searching for an hour and a half (with you only needing to pull Rory back on task three times) when you realize the section of the map took you to a familiar house in the rich part of town.

“Rory,” you get his attention. “Isn’t this Jesse’s mansion?” He, briefly serving time in Jesse’s cult, frequented this house more often than that one time you paid an unwanted visit, would know for sure.

“Oh hey. Yeah, it is.”

The mansion looks different than the last time you saw it. After Jesse’s imprisonment in the cubile animus, the place remained abandoned; and no one, not even the HOA, dared to mess with what he left behind.

The lawn was overgrown, leaves and vines creeping up and curling around the corners and windows. The siding was darkened with dirt and grime, and some of the shillings had fallen off, leaving a gaping spot where it once lay.

“Does the magic line go through the house?” Rory questions.

According to the map, it did, but you had a feeling it wasn’t this easy.

“We need to get in and check it out. Something doesn’t feel right.”

Rory walks up to the gate and pushes it open, the hinges squeaking and built up rust grinding as it opens. The two of you approach the former vampire den cautiously, the brick driveway filled with green in its cracks and all kinds of foliage strewn over the walkway left by wind and storms.

Once inside the house, you shudder. It might've been abandoned, but the air felt dark and tainted still.

“Hey,” Rory called from where he ventured further in, “I’m not sure this place is as abandoned as we think.”

He’s right. In the corner of the living room, messy sleeping bags and junk food wrappers littered the entire space. There were school bags tossed haphazardly on a table, and books on every available space possible.

You made your way to the kitchen area, where there was more discarded food, spilled liquid, and even more books. On the dining table, dried blood, a variety of talismans, melted candles, and ashes lay within a pentagram.

You made your way to the island, which was clear of everything except one book in the center.

Rory came up next to you and pointed. “I know this book. It has Jesse’s prophecy in it.”

You skimmed the book, and Rory stopped you on the page about the prophecy. You scanned the page, and when you saw a familiar line, you read it aloud: “The dead take root, the barren orchard bears the devil's fruit.’” You pause. “Rory, check the map. I think the ley line runs under Ethan’s house, specifically the tree in his backyard. They tried the ritual here, and it didn’t work. The other failed rituals happened at the church, the cemetery, and the stump of Whitechapel’s oldest tree. If they found this book, it won’t take them long to figure out their next spot, and I think it might actually work this time around. I mean, symbolically, it seems like the place to catch the Devil's attention.”

Rory’s eyes widened. “Woah. This is getting kinda scary.”

“I agree, we should get out of here before they get back.”

You start toward the door, but Rory stops you. His face twists regretfully as he responds, “Too late. I can hear them outside.”

His words make your blood run cold, and you hear the creak of the front door opening.

As quickly and quietly as you can, you and Rory squeeze inside the empty walk-in pantry. You’re easing the door shut as the kitchen door slams open.

“I’m telling you, that geek is onto us. He’s a seer, right? I bumped into him before lunch and I swear he saw something,” a husky, feminine voice said. Through the panes on the door, you can make out a silhouette of her, but nothing too clear.

A hand slaps the counter. “Why does it matter?” Deep, male, and insanely grating. You can see his hulking frame lean on the island. “He might be shacking up with vampires, but they’re not invincible. They can’t stop us no matter what they know.”

Behind you, Rory murmurs, “I know them from somewhere.”

The first one sighs, apparently not hearing a peep even from a few feet away. “I guess, but his friends are vampires. The small one, Sarah, babysits him on Friday’s right?”

“Yup. But, with some garlic and a sharp wooden steak, it shouldn’t be too hard to negotiate for that virgin’s blood. And he doesn’t even need to die!”

“That we know of. The instructions say the blood of a virgin, who’s to say that doesn’t mean the life of one? The 17th century assholes who wrote it down weren’t very specific with the recipe.”

“And the awful fucking poetry. I could’ve done without that,” the guy scoffs.

“Whatever,” the girl snaps. “We will do it tomorrow night after his parents leave. We get what we want and hey, maybe once the Devil himself turns us into vampires, we’ll kill the virgin anyway. I hear they taste the best.”

The two cackle, and their voices dim as they clomp away.

You and Rory tip toe out of the pantry, keeping an eye on the door as you walk. The thing is, you’re not completely aware of your surroundings. In a stroke of bad luck, you trip on a stack of books, and they clutter noisily to the ground.

You meet Rory’s eyes, horrified.

“Who’s there?” the guy shouts. You hear the stomp of their boots getting closer, and Rory tugs you away to the other door and up the stairs. You follow him like you’re on autopilot, everything you heard and what’s happened catching up to you at the wrong time.

You’re being pulled up another set of stairs and Rory kicks the bedroom door open.

“This one has a balcony. Gord pushed me off it when I was learning how to fly.”

“What a dick,” you mutter and suddenly you’re gasping in the cool outside air.

Rory grabs onto you right as the door flies open, the two satanists rushing forward. Not a second too soon, Rory takes off.

A few minutes and half a heart attack later, you land on the designated meeting point, which was, of course, Ethan’s front porch. Everyone was there already, and you felt comfortable enough to have a panic attack.

You’re still gasping and your legs give out on you. You’re caught by familiar arms, and Benny lowers you down to the porch chair.

“We—we found—the book. The lines—the tree, it just. They’re going to attack you! Take your, your blood. They wanna turn. They need him to turn.”

You’re not making a lick of sense to anyone, and Sarah starts to rub your back.

“Breathe,” she says softly. She doesn't have the compulsion ability mastered, but you want to listen to her, so you do.

“You found something? What happened?” Ethan asks.

“Dude,” Benny chastises. “Maybe wait til she stops freaking out? Rory, what’s going on?”

Rory explains your findings as best he can, and you use the lilt of his voice to calm down. “The guy and the girl look so familiar. I can’t place it, though.”

With a huff, Erica reminds him, “They go to our school, genius, obviously they’ll be familiar.”

Rory starts to protest, “Yeah but, that’s not where I recognize them from.”

“Vampires,” you finally say. Everyone stops and stares at you. “The deal they want to make with the Devil is to become vampires. Why would they go to all this trouble when this town is crawling with them? I think it’s because they literally can’t. Vampires won’t turn them.” You twist your body to face Sarah and Erica. “Does the Council have some kind of banned humans list? Like, “Do not turn these people under the penalty of death” list?”

Sarah hums and furrows her brows together in thought. “I’m sure they do, I’ll go check,” and she vamp speeds away.

“It’s the only reason I can think of. Anyone else have a theory?”

You look up from your place on the chair, and everyone (again) is staring.

“That,” Benny declares, “was incredible.”

You meet his gaze, and for the first time since last night, it doesn’t feel weird. It feels… normal. Right.

You smile at him shyly, and think yeah, you’ll be alright.

A nudge to your side has your attention on Erica. Apparently she caught that little exchange. She quirks a playful eyebrow at you and you shrug your shoulders innocently.

After that, it doesn't take too long for Sarah to return in a whoosh of air. “They do have a list! And it comes with pictures. Here,” she hands everyone a stack. Thankfully, it’s not too big. It only takes a few seconds before Rory spots them.

Ethan nods. “Yup. I ran into her this morning and that’s when I got the vision. She didn’t seem too pleased with me.”

Now that you have all the pieces, you plan.

A pizza is ordered and you all gather around Ethan’s dining table.

“These people know way too much about us, so what if we give them more?” Ethan suggests.

You hum in agreement. You reach for a slice, and your hand brushes Benny’s. You lock eyes over the table, and he’s flushing that sweet red again. He retracts his hand, and you grin to yourself as you take the slice.

“Like what?” Erica asks.

“They think the ball is in their corner, right?” you explain. “So what if we change it up? Make them comfortable, make it even more easy for their plan to unfold, but what they don’t know is that we’re doing the same thing, only better.”

“Okay,” Rory remarks, voice laced with confusion. “What do we do?”

You and Ethan share a near manic smirk.

“We’re gonna set a trap. Tomorrow, I will very loudly say in front of them that I’m Jane’s babysitter tonight instead of Sarah. That gets rid of one vampire, they think ambushing us will be a walk in the park if it’s me.”

“Tomorrow night, you three,” Ethan informs Sarah, Erica, and Rory, “will be waiting in the shadows, ready to attack when necessary.”

You take a deep breath. “Benny, you need to be with us.”

Ethan startles. “What, why?”

You ignore him.

“Benny, do you trust me?”

Instantly, he says yes.

“Good,” you breathe. “You need to be the sacrifice.”

Ethan protests immediately, and the others look at you like you’ve grown a second head.

“Um, they need a virgin for the ritual, right?” Erica speaks up, deliberately slow as if you somehow forgot you were the one to change Benny’s virginal status.

“Yes,” you confirm, and as subtly as you can, you explain. “They need a virgin to complete the ritual.”

You can see the moment it clicks for Sarah and Erica; unfortunately, Rory is more vocal with his understanding.

“Ohhh, is it because Benny—YEOUCH!” He yells as Erica elbows him particularly hard in the side.

Ethan’s eyes dart between all of you. “Uh, okay. Whatever. As long as it isn’t Jane, I don’t care who gives up their blood.”

The next day at school, you get the wannabe vampires hook, line, and sinker when you bring up your status as tonight's babysitter right in front of them. Unbeknownst to them, Jane is going to be safe next door with Benny’s grandma the second their parents leave for date night.

It takes a few hours for the “ambush” to happen, just minutes before midnight. You have fun pretending to act scared and whine when they tie you up, though you could’ve gone without the grass stains as the burly guy tossed you next to the tree.

They make quick work of setting up the ritual, and hey, there's Shadow Ninja! Anger flares in you at the sight of Rory's friend tied up and muzzled like that.

When it’s all set up, they mix together what looks like the world’s most disgusting cocktail in a gold chalice.

“Now,” the girl announces as the two stalk up to you, Benny, and Ethan. “Who will it be?”

“We were gonna do mega geek over there,” the guy said, nodding toward Ethan, but then he points to you. “But what about her?” he asks his friend.

The girl, the absolute bitch, throws her head back and laughs. “Her? Are you kidding? She’s a slut, no way am I drinking her blood. We need a virgin, not some high school whore, remember?”

Your mouth drops open, “Well fuck you too! At least I got hot while I was still in high school. You wanna be eternally 17? I feel sorry you need a do-over when some of us got it the first time around.” That might not have been the best response, you think as she backhands you across the face, but it felt damn good to say.

“Leave her alone,” Benny growls, eyes flaring, and wow, that’s hot. “Do not talk about her like that, I swear to god.”

The guy taunts Benny. “Oooh I think lover boy here just offered himself up! Gimme your arm, nerd.”

They aren’t gentle as they take Benny’s blood. You send them death glares every time he winces and hope this ridiculous ordeal is over soon.

You watch as they mix the blood into the chalice. They chant in terrible latin, and finally, they drink, draining the cup dry.

The air is still as you wait for a long moment.

Suddenly, they’re both doubled over in pain, clutching all over their bodies and heads, screaming so forcefully the veins in their forehead pop out.

“We’re sorry!” the girl shrieks. “We don’t know what happened!”

The guy falls to his knees. “We didn’t mean to insult you—we did everything right, we promise!”

“What do you mean,” the girl wails, and she spits up black. You realized then that someone must be talking to them in their heads. Him, possibly?

The guy is shaking on the ground; he has the same black liquid spilling out of his mouth, and you know then that it’s blood. His eyes lock on Benny, and he began to crawl toward him.

“You!” is all he can gurgle out before he disappears in an ashy poof. The girl gives an ear shattering shrill, and a second later, she’s gone too.

Sarah, Erica, and Rory emerge from their hiding place, instantly moving to free the rest of you from your bonds.

“What just happened?” Ethan sputters. He didn’t expect that. What the fuck.

“They messed up the ritual,” you smile.

Ethan frowns. “Really? I don't see how.”

Rory laughs and puts an arm around Ethan’s shoulder.

“It’s because Benny took a trip to Bonetown,” he snickers, and you punch him in the shoulder as hard as you can.

Rory makes an offended face at you. “Ouch! What was that for? I was just answering Ethan’s question.”

“Rory,” You speak calmly, eyes closed. “Shut. Up.”

“What! We should all be thanking you! I mean, if it wasn’t for you, they totally would’ve summoned the Devil. Unless they chose Ethan instead but—”

“Rory, look! There's Shadow Ninja!”

The blond vampire squeals and tears off toward the tree, freeing his very much alive, but incredibly pissed off, feline friend.

Only, the damage is done.

You seek out Sarah and Erica, but they just shrug and chuckle awkwardly at you before vamping away. Rory, once he comes back with the squirming cat in his arms, senses the sudden tension he unwittingly created, and after a few seconds of deliberation decides the smartest move is to do the same. Jerks, all of them.

You really, really wish Ethan wasn’t as clever as he is. You know the instant the explanation dawns on him. His mouth drops wide open and he points to Benny, who gives him an awkward smile. Then Ethan points the accusatory finger at you, and all you can do is pinch your lips together and watch him freak out.

“You—but how—why didn't you say—but that means—you exploded them with sex?”

He shakes his head and spins around, walking away to fetch Jane and muttering to himself like mad. Poor guy.

You and Benny are the only ones left of your ragtag group still lingering, so you walk to his house, and when you reach the steps, you can’t take it anymore. You blurt:

“We didn’t even kiss.” Benny stares at his shoes and bites the inside of his cheek. “We didn’t, so I didn’t know if you actually liked me or not. It was good, it was so fucking good. I should've stayed. I wasn’t thinking when I left the other day. I hate the morning after talk but you deserved so much better than what I gave you. I’m sorry. I like you Benny, I really do and I want to make this work.” You keep rambling, just saying what comes to mind and you’re still rambling when Benny cups your face in both his hands and pulls you into a blessedly mind numbing kiss.

It’s everything you ever wanted. It's soft and sweet, yet firm and demanding, just like Benny. Your mouths move together skillfully, slotting together like they were made for it, and you’d like nothing more than to kiss him until you can’t breathe any longer.

He pulls back slightly, lingering in your space, breathing in your air.

“If I invite you in, will you stay this time?”

You don't have to think.

“Yes.”

#benny weir x reader #benny weir x y/n #benny weir x you #my babysitters a vampire #mbav #honestly i just started writing and this came out whoops #lmk what you think!#if you notice any spelling/grammar errors lmk

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writesvani · 3 months ago

Text

coming down | 04

collegestudent! gojo x collegestudent! reader

SUMMARY: You and Gojo Satoru were once everything to each other, but now, the space between you is filled with nothing but silence and resentment. College is just a reminder of how far you’ve drifted apart, and every encounter only adds fuel to the fire.

You avoid him like the plague, but it doesn’t matter. You can still feel him in the shadows, always there, always watching, as if the past was never really gone. So what do you do? You (try to) keep your distance, pretending it’s easy to forget the history that’s weighed you down for so long.

But deep down, neither of you can let go. And as the tension between you grows, you’re forced to confront the truth: some things are never truly buried, no matter how hard you try.

best friends-to-friends with benefits-to-enemies-to-enemies with benefits-to?

TWs (for this chapter): manipulation, toxic friendship dynamics, arguing, back handed compliments, making out, sexual tension, substance abuse, explicit language, mentions of past trauma, emotional conflict, jealousy

comment HERE for Coming Down taglist;

SERIES M. LIST

— previous chapter // next chapter

wc: 7k // date: 17th of March

CHAPTER FOUR – In The Night; proceed with caution...

AN: okay listen. i know this was a slow burn chapter. but every single part of it was necessary. EVERYTHING is important. do you think i just write things for fun? no. every sentence, every stare, every word exchanged between gojo and y/n is intentional. calculated. y/n and yumi? the way they showed up wearing almost matching outfits? not a coincidence. the way y/n interacts with yumi and vice versa? telling. the way the toxicity seeps through her conversation with gojo? NECESSARY. you need to understand where they stand right now to fully grasp what’s about to happen next. there is a reason they are all still in each other’s lives. trust me.

and finally. GETO. HELLO. WHAT THE HELL WAS THAT. he had no business being that hot this chapter. NONE. i was writing him like sir please be serious for once but no. he had to say things. he had to look like that. i hate him (i love him).

next chapter; after 100 notes <3

love, vani 🩷

You can feel the weight of your wallet in your bag, but it’s not a burden; it’s an opportunity. The mall hums around you, the fluorescent lights overhead making everything feel a little more artificial, but also a little more alive. You take in the scent of expensive perfumes mixed with the fresh leather from the bags on display. It’s like a hit of dopamine straight to the system, and you can almost taste the excitement on your tongue.

Yumi walks beside you, her eyes already scanning the racks, her steps slow but deliberate. She's in the same vibe today, quiet, but her attention sharp. You two aren’t talking much, but it doesn’t matter—sometimes, silence is just another form of conversation.

“Do you think it’s wrong to just...buy things for the sake of it?” Yumi asks out of nowhere, glancing sideways at you, her lips curling up in a half-smirk. “Like, not because we need it, but because...it feels good?”

“Fuck no,” you reply almost immediately, your voice louder than it probably should be in the middle of the mall. You catch a couple of people glancing over, but it doesn’t matter. “Anyone who says that is lying to themselves. Spending money is like hitting the reset button, a little personal therapy session in each swipe. I mean, have you seen these shoes? They're practically begging me to buy them.”

Yumi chuckles, her eyes falling to the rows of trendy sneakers on the shelf. She moves towards them with purpose, but you know she's not just here to buy. She's here to feel something, just like you. The thrill of walking out of the store with something new, the satisfaction of a decision that is all yours.

“Sometimes I feel like...if I just have something nice, it’ll fix everything. Like, if I buy this jacket, maybe everything will feel okay,” Yumi says, her voice soft, almost hesitant. You look over at her, catching the slightest crack in her usual nonchalant expression.

"Yeah, I get that," you reply, your hand brushing along a velvet dress on display. "It’s like, a temporary fix. But sometimes? It’s all you need to get through the day. You can’t tell me there’s a better feeling than slipping into something new and realizing you just made your own mood for the day."

Yumi glances over at you, her face breaking into a grin. “I knew I wasn’t the only one who thought that way. Let's make the most of this ‘therapy’ while we can.”

You both laugh, the sound mixing with the distant chatter of other shoppers as you continue to roam, leaving your cares and worries at the door with every step you take. Today is not about making decisions, it’s about feeling. And right now, you’re both just trying to feel good.

You and Yumi are dressed in the kind of outfits that could easily be mistaken for "mom chic"—but in a way that feels intentional and effortless. Think muted tones, soft fabrics, and the kind of casual elegance that says, "I don’t have to try too hard, but I still look put together."

You’re both wearing beige-colored pieces, like a warm, oversized cardigan layered over a simple cream blouse. The cardigan drapes off your shoulders just so, perfectly slouchy, like you didn’t even think about it. Your pants are wide-legged, a soft taupe color, with just enough volume to make them look chic but still comfortable enough to lounge in. You're not exactly pulling off a runway look, but you’re definitely pulling off an “I’m casually rich but low-key” vibe. You’ve opted for simple, white sneakers that look like they’ve been through a lot, but still hold their own in the aesthetics department.

Yumi mirrors you in a similar way. She’s got a beige trench coat hanging loosely around her shoulders, the kind of piece that makes you look like you’ve got your life together, even if you don’t. Her pants are slightly more tapered, a light khaki shade, but still relaxed enough to give off that effortless vibe. A simple beige scarf is wrapped loosely around her neck, adding just the right touch of elegance. You notice she’s wearing matching beige slides, the kind that click softly against the floor with every step, but they have a casual, almost lazy feel to them, like she couldn’t be bothered with heels today.

Both of you have your hair pulled back into sleek, tight buns—nothing too fancy, just neat and low-maintenance. It’s a look that says you’re not trying too hard, but still trying just enough to feel put-together. It’s a mood. The kind of aesthetic that screams understated, but the more you look at it, the more you realize just how much effort went into making it look so effortless.

At some point, you break away from her, your eyes landing on a store that’s been calling your name for days. You head straight for the jeans section like you’re on a mission from God. And there they are. The perfect pair. The jeans. They practically shine in your peripheral vision, whispering your name. “Buy me, buy me, buy me,” they seem to scream. You grab your size with the kind of urgency that only comes from knowing destiny has just called your name, then practically launch yourself into the fitting room.

Once you’re inside, you slip into the jeans and instantly fall in love. They hug you just right, shaping your body in that effortless way that says, I’m so stylish. You glance in the mirror, nodding to yourself like you've just discovered fire.

“Yu!” You yell, probably a little louder than necessary, but you’re too excited. “Come here, I found something.”

“Girl, where’s here?” Yumi calls from outside, clearly in the middle of her own shopping-induced trance.

“The fitting room, hurry up!” You tug at the waistband to make sure it’s sitting just right. You can already feel the high of this purchase.

You hear Yumi’s footsteps approach as she huffs impatiently. “Step out, c'mon!” she calls. You laugh, rolling your eyes as you open the fitting room door, spinning out dramatically to show off your catch of the day.

“What do you think?” You strike a pose, a mix of sass and excitement.

Yumi blinks. It’s not the reaction you expected. Her eyes flick up and down you, but there's something off about her expression—something you can’t quite place. She pauses, the kind of pause that always means she’s about to say something she thinks will sound nice but isn’t. She twirls a lock of her hair around her finger and scratches at her trench coat like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

“Oh,” she says, her tone flat.

“Is something wrong?” You squint, suddenly sensing the tension in the air. She can’t even look you in the eye.

“No, no, they’re great,” she says quickly, but it’s too fast. Too... fake.

You raise an eyebrow, giving her the look—the one that says, Really, girl? “Come on, be honest.”

She chews her lip, eyeing you again. “Well, I mean…” She lets out a breath, eyes sweeping over you. “I don’t think they suit you,” she says, as if it’s a casual observation. “They’re not really... the model of jeans for you. But hey, we can totally find you something else. Like, better.”

Your whole posture goes rigid. That familiar sting of frustration bubbles up, your brow furrowing as your stomach tightens. “What’s that supposed to mean?” you shoot back, holding her gaze with a challenge in your eyes.

Yumi’s smile falters just slightly, but she hides it quickly, brushing a non-existent hair from her forehead. “Nothing,” she says, the fakest sweetness lacing her words. “Nothing at all. They’re still good... for you, I guess.”

You shake your head, the irritation trying to creep in. “Well, I don’t care,” you say, a little too firmly. “I’m buying them.”

Yumi’s expression softens, but there’s still that tiny edge to her smile. “Okay,” she says, giving you a shrug. “But don’t be all broody and moody when you realize there’s better stuff out there for you. Like, I’m just saying.”

You roll your eyes, tossing the jeans into your bag with more force than necessary. “Yeah, yeah. Whatever.” You’re not sure if you’re more frustrated with her or with the fact that her words still got under your skin. But you don’t care. You’re buying them. End of story.

Yumi gives you one last look, the faintest hint of a smirk pulling at her lips. “Alright, drama queen. Whatever you say.”

You slip the jeans off quickly, tossing them over the little bench as you grab your regular clothes, avoiding your own reflection in the mirror. The tightness in your chest isn't from the jeans; it's from something else—something Yumi always manages to plant inside you without even trying. It’s that lingering feeling, the one that makes you question if you really know who you are.

You slide your old clothes back on, pulling everything back into place, but that knot in your chest only seems to tighten. Yumi’s words replay in your head, and they sting, a little too much. “They aren’t exactly the model of jeans for you.”

You don’t know why it hurts, but it does. Maybe it’s the way she always acts like she’s doing you a favor, like her opinion is the only one that matters. You roll your eyes, but it doesn’t stop the sinking feeling. You’re not going to let her get to you. You won’t. Not this time.

You’re pissed – pissed at Yumi for acting like she has the right to call the shots when it comes to your life. Pissed at yourself for letting her get away with it for so long. The usual irritation bubbles in your chest as you grumble under your breath about her condescending attitude. This weird dynamic between you two – it’s been building for a while now, and it’s starting to wear thin.

You glance down at your phone, desperately hoping to distract yourself from the heavy tension in the air. And then you see it.

The notification.

Geto Suguru has just accepted your follow request.

Geto Suguru has sent you a follow request.

Your breath hitches. Your heart skips a beat. This is it. This is the moment. Like a schoolgirl in the throes of her first crush, your hands shake as you try to process it.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” you squeal in disbelief, all thoughts of Yumi and her annoying behavior forgotten in an instant. It’s as if the universe just dropped a bombshell into your lap.

“What’s going on?” Yumi’s voice cuts through your excitement, her tone mixed with amusement and curiosity. You barely hear it. All you can do is stare at the screen, your mind racing between accepting the request immediately or savoring this moment for a bit longer.

“Geto accepted me and followed me back on Instagram!” You burst out, your voice a little too loud as you shove your phone in Yumi’s direction, too giddy to care about anything else. Your face is flush with excitement, like you’ve just won some major prize.

Yumi blinks at you, looking genuinely confused. “You followed him?” she asks, narrowing her eyes. Her disbelief only makes you smile wider.

“Yeah, like three weeks ago,” you say, your words tumbling out in a rush. “He never followed me back…until now.” You shove your phone even closer, practically forcing her to examine the screen like it holds the answers to the meaning of life.

“And you never told me?” Yumi’s voice is dripping with mock hurt as she places a hand dramatically on her chest. “Ouch. I thought we were friends!”

You roll your eyes. “Chill, Yumi. I didn’t think it was that big of a deal,” you reply, trying to brush off her dramatics. But you can’t help the smile tugging at your lips. You’ve been waiting for this moment, and now that it’s here, you’re just too damn happy to care about anything else.

“Well, you should’ve told me,” she says, crossing her arms and feigning disappointment. “I’m feeling so betrayed right now.”

“Just let me have my moment, Yu,” you snap back, your patience thinning. You don’t have the energy for her attitude right now. “I gotta call Ren. This is huge.” You murmur the last part mostly to yourself, your fingers already lazily scrolling through your contact list. Yumi’s voice rings out, suddenly sharp with curiosity.

“You told Ren and not me?” she asks, raising an eyebrow in mock offense.

“Yeah, because he was there when I followed Geto. This conversation is pointless,” you say, your eyes not leaving the screen as you look for Ren’s name. “If this is a real problem for you, then I don’t know… Maybe touch some grass or something.”

“Whatever, forget it,” she mutters, her earlier drama fading away like it never happened. “So, are you gonna accept him or what?” Her voice now bubbles with excitement, the tension dissipating as she realizes what’s happening.

You look at your phone, a mix of excitement and nervousness swirling in your gut. You hover over the “accept” button, the thrill of the moment almost making you dizzy.

Without thinking twice, you tap the button.

Yumi gasps. “Oh. My. God. You actually did it,” she says, her voice filled with awe. She watches as you sit back, your heart still pounding. “You’re officially in. Ren’s gonna lose it when he finds out.”

A laugh escapes your lips, a little breathless. “I know, right?” You feel like you’re floating. This is it – your moment. Finally.

But before you get lost in your own excitement, you dial Ren’s number, your fingers moving with practiced ease. This is big. And you’re definitely calling him first.

You dial Ren's number, heart pounding like a jackhammer on a caffeine binge. The phone rings twice before he picks up, his voice muffled as if he's speaking from the depths of a swamp.

"Yo, what's up?" he says, sounding distracted.

"Ren! You won't believe what just happened!" you exclaim, barely containing your enthusiasm.

"Hold up," he interrupts, the unmistakable sound of a toilet flushing echoing in the background. "I'm on the can. Give me a sec."

You stifle a laugh, picturing him mid-transaction. "Take your time," you reply, tapping your fingers impatiently against your phone.

A few moments later, he returns, his voice clearer now. "Alright, I'm back. What's got you so hyped?"

"Geto Suguru accepted my follow request and followed me back!" you blurt out, unable to keep the excitement out of your voice.

There's a brief silence on the other end before Ren erupts. "No way! That's insane!"

"I know, right?" you giggle, pacing your room. "I can't believe it!"

Ren's voice drops to a conspiratorial whisper. "Okay, okay. We need a plan. Like, a full-on strategy to get you two together. I'm talking meet-cutes, accidental run-ins, the whole shebang."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Ren, you're crazy."

He ignores your comment, already deep in his own world. "Picture this: you and Geto, a chance encounter at a coffee shop. He spills his drink on you, you both laugh it off, exchange numbers—classic rom-com material."

You roll your eyes, amused. "And what's next? The meet-the-parents montage?"

"Exactly!" Ren responds enthusiastically. "And then, plot twist—you both end up on a reality dating show together. The drama, the tension, the undeniable chemistry."

You burst out laughing, clutching your stomach. "Ren, you're out of control."

He pauses, then adds thoughtfully, "Okay, but real talk. This could be your big break. You and Geto, taking over the internet. The content would be insane."

You sobered slightly, considering his words. "Yeah, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. It's just social media."

Ren snorts. "Just social media? Girl, this is the 21st century. Social media is everything."

You chuckle, shaking your head. "You're incorrigible."

"Hey, I'm just saying," Ren replies, his tone light. "The lore we could build around this—people would lose their minds."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through you. "Thanks, Ren. I needed that."

"Anytime," he says. "Now, go accept that follow request before he changes his mind."

You laugh,"Beat you to it bestie, it’s already accepted."

"Atta girl," Ren says approvingly. "Now, keep me posted. I want all the details."

"Will do," you reply, feeling a flutter of anticipation. "Talk to you later."

As you finish up your chat with Ren, you spot Yumi by the counter, already making her purchase for the shirt she couldn’t resist the second she laid eyes on it. You toss your jeans beside it, ready to pay for your own haul. “Yo, Yu,” you hum, flashing a playful grin at the cashier as you hand over your cash. She bags up your purchase with a smile, and you nod your thanks, slipping out of the store.

"So, what's the deal with Geto and his girl?" you ask, picking at your nails as you walk beside Yumi. There's a slight flutter in your chest—yeah, you definitely want him, but are you really ready to totally shake up his relationship? You can’t decide.

Yumi's expression shifts, her lips curving into a devilish grin that screams, I know something you don’t. "They broke up last week," she drops the bomb casually, her eyes practically sparkling with the excitement of sharing the gossip.

"Wait, seriously?" you blink, caught off guard.

"Yep," she says, her tone smug, like she just delivered the best news ever. "The man’s single now. Time for you to make your move."

A flutter of nerves rushes through you, but you push it aside. "I want to, but... where do I even start?"

Yumi taps her chin, the wheels turning in her mind. "Easy. Post a pic of yourself. See if he’s gonna like it. If he does... it’s game time."

You raise an eyebrow, a small smirk tugging at your lips. "Not a bad idea, actually."

“I know, I’m a genius,” she says, almost too smug.

You scroll through your gallery, your finger hovering over the screen until you find the one. There it is—your mirror selfie from a few days ago. Your hair is perfectly curled, a soft cascade of waves that look effortless but just polished enough to make heads turn (courtesy of heatless curls hack you found on TikTok). You’re wearing the perfect balance of casual and seductive—oversized denim jeans slung low on your hips, paired with a black tube top that clings just enough to highlight your curves.

But the real magic? Your finger, softly grazing your lips, the tip of your manicured nail pressing ever so lightly against your full, plump pout. The angle's just right to capture the soft curve of your neck, and your eyes? Locked straight at the camera with that playful, irresistible spark.

You glance at Yumi, a devilish grin creeping onto your face. "Game on, Geto Suguru. Let’s see if you can handle this."

The rest of the day flies by in a haze of impulse buys, mindless chatter with Yumi, and forcing down yet another overpriced green smoothie that tastes like regret. You nearly block out Yumi’s oh-so-inappropriate remarks about you as you finally step into your apartment alone, shutting the door behind you with a sigh.

Silence. Finally.

Tossing your bags onto the couch, you make a beeline for the TV, flipping on Netflix like it’s muscle memory. Without hesitation, you scroll straight to Gossip Girl. The Thanksgiving episode is on, and before you know it, you’re gasping at every twist and betrayal—as if you don’t already have the entire script engraved in your soul. (But seriously, with every rewatch, it just gets better. No one can convince you otherwise.)

Mid-scene, you reach for today’s most questionable purchase—an unnecessarily fancy ashtray you bought for no real reason other than, well, aesthetic. You light a cigarette, placing it between your lips, the flicker of the lighter casting a brief glow against your face. Smoke curls around you as you stare at the screen, completely locked in, like Blair Waldorf’s next move is life or death.

Then, your fingers move on autopilot. Check story views.

Nothing.

Absolutely nothing.

Geto Suguru hasn’t even seen it.

Your eye twitches. Excuse me?

Dozens of likes, a couple of fire emojis in your DMs, and even a "damn who let you be this fine??" from someone you don’t even know. But the one person you want? Nowhere to be found.

“Dude,” you groan, flopping back against the cushions. “Throw me a bone here.”

With a sigh, you toss your phone onto your lap, take another slow drag of your cigarette, and let the smoke swirl lazily around you. The air in your apartment is thick with it now—probably should crack a window before your living room starts smelling like a nicotine shrine, but that’s tomorrow’s problem.

Then, just as you start spiraling into a self-pity session, your phone rings.

Ren.

You stretch your arm lazily, phone tucked between your cheek and shoulder, eyes glued to the screen.

“Hey, babe, you home from your little shopping spree?” Ren’s voice comes through, smooth and familiar.

You sigh dramatically. “Mhm. Just watching Gossip Girl.”

“Again?”

“Yeah. I have commitment issues, and this is the only way I know how to work through them.”

Ren lets out a knowing laugh. “Whatever keeps you sane, babe. But listen—it’s Friday, and I was thinking… I kinda want to go out. And you know Aiko—”

You half-listen, stretching your neck until it cracks in a way that probably isn’t good for you. 'Ouch. Love that for me.'

“—her roommate’s throwing a party, and Aiko invited me. And obviously, because I’m the best bestie to ever exist, I told her I’m not going anywhere without my ride-or-die.”

You let out a soft laugh, but your brain is already at war.

On one hand, you had the perfect night planned: sinking into your couch, rewatching rich people make messy life choices, rolling a joint (or two), and falling asleep in a haze of smoke and Blair Waldorf’s superiority complex.

On the other hand… getting a little reckless with Ren? That sounds dangerous. And fun. And exactly what you haven’t done in a long time.

You and Ren don’t party together. Your social circles barely overlap, and that’s always worked in your favor. But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to shake things up.

And it’s Aiko. Ren’s childhood bestie, who goes to a different college but still lives in town. No drama, no nonsense—just good vibes. And honestly? New faces, new energy, and new distractions sound pretty damn tempting.

Because, let’s be real—who needs Geto Suguru to like their story when there’s a whole party full of questionable choices waiting for you?

A slow smirk tugs at your lips as you finally answer, voice dripping with mischief.

“Let’s go cause some chaos.”

The party is exactly your kind of chaos—loud, reckless, and just dangerous enough to make you feel alive.

You catch a shift in Ren’s energy beside you, and when you glance at him, it clicks—this is definitely not what he was expecting. Poor thing probably thought he was signing up for a casual little get-together, a few drinks, maybe getting a little too tipsy and ending the night puking out Aiko’s window.

But instead? This.

Bodies packed tight, unfamiliar faces blurring together, the thick haze of weed curling through the air like a heavy fog. The bass from the speakers thrums beneath your skin, rattling in your chest, making the world feel electric. Someone spills a drink nearby, but no one cares. There’s a girl perched on the kitchen counter, her fingers tangled in a guy’s hair, pulling him in like she’s starving.

And—oh my God. Is someone actually moaning out loud?

'Alright, that’s a little much, even for me. Jesus. Please, for the love of God, take it to a bedroom. I don’t need to be reminded that I haven’t gotten laid in two months. Thanks.'

Still, the rest of this? Perfection.

You flick your gaze back to Ren just in time to watch his soul physically leave his body. He looks like a deer caught in headlights—half-hiding behind you, half-frantically scanning the room for an escape route.

And then—just like that—he’s gone.

Your eyes track his movements lazily, following him as he weaves through the crowd with surprising determination. Interesting. You watch as he approaches some guy—tall, broad shoulders, an easy grin. You don’t know him personally, but recognition sparks.

Aiko introduced them a few weeks ago and he is the one Ren showed you a picture of.

Oh.

Ohhh.

So this is why Ren wanted to go out so bad.

You roll your eyes, but there’s an amused smirk tugging at your lips. Cute. Puppy love.

Hopefully, the guy rails Ren by the end of the night.

You scan the room, taking in the dizzying mix of sweaty bodies, half-baked stoners, and preppy girls pretending they don’t secretly love this mess.

And then—you spot it.

Aiko has a bar. Or at least, something that resembles one. A sleek blend of wood and cool gray marble, standing out like a beacon of class in the middle of this absolute shitshow.

And—oh, look. An empty stool, practically begging you to claim it.

You mentally pat yourself on the back for securing the perfect spot—close enough to the action to people-watch, yet tucked away just enough to avoid being in it. A strategic retreat. A throne.

You already know the marble is going to be a dream for rolling, so you settle in, pull out your weed, and get to work.

Your fingers move on autopilot—muscle memory kicking in like a well-rehearsed performance. You unfold the paper, pluck at the small green bud, and absolutely massacre one of your cigarettes, so you could mix your joint with tobacco. A brutal sacrifice for a higher cause.

Once it’s done, you sit back, admiring your work of art for a solid thirty seconds. A true masterpiece. Leonardo da Vinci could never.

Then, rummaging through your bag, you fish out your lighter. Flick. Flame.

And just like that—the first hit of the night is here.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been sitting there. Time has melted away between the slow drag of your joint and the burn of nicotine on your tongue. One joint down, two cigarettes deep—it’s time for round two.

You bring the joint number #2 to your lips, ready for round two, when—

"Look at what we got here."

The voice is rich, velvety, dangerous. It spills down your spine like warm liquor, and then—the heat of his breath, so close to your neck, so intimate, you nearly shudder.

Fingertips ghost over your shoulder, then trace a slow, lazy path down to your waist. Barely there, yet enough to send a pulse of electricity through you, enough to make your breath hitch and your thighs press.

You inhale, slow and steady, masking the effect he has on you with a drag from your joint. “Didn’t think the place I’d see you again would be here,” you murmur, blowing out smoke in a smirk.

But then—fuck.

His fingers skate down your ribs, a teasing tap, so faint it shouldn’t do anything, but it does. A single touch, and your stomach tightens, heat pooling low.

You’re acting like a starved divorcée. Embarrassing.

“So you thought about seeing me again,” he says, stepping forward, pressing closer.

And ohhh, the way he moves—fluid, predatory, his body heat licking at yours like an unspoken promise. His elbow lands on the marble counter, muscles flexing, jaw sharp enough to cut.

Black shirt, grey joggers—so simple, so effortless, yet you know how dangerous that combo is. How easy it would be to just… tug the waistband down.

Then—the worst part. The part that makes your fingers twitch with the need to touch.

His hair—tied up in that messy, infuriatingly perfect bun.

You want to pull it loose.

You want to fist your hands in it.

You want to ruin him.

He flicks his tongue against his cheek, and your brain short circuits.

That tongue. That thumb. Fuck.

“Mm,” you hum, shifting slightly, just enough to brush against him. “What if I did, Suguru?”

His smirk deepens, something dark flickering in his eyes.

“Already on a first-name basis?” His voice drops—low, thick, laced with amusement and something even filthier. “You’re bad, peach.”

Peach.

Oh, he’s playing dirty.

“I can be a lot worse,” you counter, dragging your tongue over your lips—slow, intentional. And just as expected, his gaze snaps to the movement. His jaw tenses, his Adam’s apple bobs, and—ohhh, there it is. That tiny flicker of restraint slipping.

He’s so sexy it’s infuriating.

“Wanna prove it sometime?” His voice is like silk, wrapping around you, daring you.

You barely breathe out, “Yeah.”

And then, stupidly, recklessly, you extend your arm to hand him the joint.

Big mistake.

Because the second he takes it, that hand—the one burning your ribs, teasing, lingering, driving you insane—is gone.

And now?

Now it’s wrapped around the joint instead.

Your lungs seize.

Your thighs press tighter.

You’re already losing this game.

But even without his hands on you, he’s still too much for your own good. The joint rests between his lips like it belongs there, lazy and effortless, the smoke curling around his face in slow, deliberate swirls. His eyes—dark and low—trace over you, dragging like the lazy pull of a bowstring, like he’s memorizing every dip, every curve, every flicker of emotion that crosses your face.

He takes a slow inhale, lets the smoke pool in his lungs before releasing it in a sigh that feels too intimate, too heavy, settling between you like an invitation.

“So,” he murmurs, the ghost of a smile tugging at his lips, “what brings you here?”

Your fingers twitch at your side. Why does he have to be so fucking pretty?

“I’m here with my friend. He’s friends with Aiko,” you mutter, tipping your chin toward Ren—who, at this exact moment, is devouring THE guy in the corner like he’s trying to consume his soul. His hands are buried in the guy’s hair, nails digging in, like he’s trying to make sure this man never forgets him.

Geto follows your gaze, lets out a short, amused huff. “Subtle.”

You snort, then—maybe to distract yourself, maybe just to fill the space—ask, “What about you?”

“Jen is Yuji’s girl,” he says absently, fingers tracing the cotton of his shirt, and—oh.

So that’s the connection.

And then it hits. Yuji's girlfriend is Aiko's roommate. A slow-building dread that curls in your stomach and coils around your ribs, tight, suffocating—because if Geto and Yuji are here… then so is Gojo.

Your chest feels too tight. Your blood feels too hot.

You don’t want to think about him. You can’t think about him. Because the last time you saw him, he ruined you. Because his words are still a wound in your chest, still raw, still bleeding.

You flex your hands, swallow hard. Keep your voice even. “That’s cool.”

But Geto is too fucking perceptive for his own good. His eyes are on you, watching, picking apart every microexpression, every breath, every slight shift in your body language.

“Are you okay with that?” His voice is smooth, careful.

“With what?”

“C’mon babe. I know you already realized Gojo is here and last time I saw you and Gojo in the same room, there were fangs and claws.”

“I’m fine.” The words come out clipped, a little too quick.

Geto hums. He doesn’t believe you. You don’t believe yourself.

“As long as he doesn’t talk to me, I don’t give a shit.”

A pause. A twitch of his lips. “You sure about that?”

You shoot him a look. “I said I’m fine.”

His gaze lingers, heavy with amusement and something else you don’t want to name. The silence stretches, thick and charged, something unsaid crackling between you like static electricity.

And then you do something dangerous.

With slow, deliberate movements, you reach for the joint between his lips, plucking it free with a feather-light touch. His breath hitches—so quiet, so subtle, you almost miss it. But you don’t.

You never do.

You bring it to your lips, inhale deep, the taste of him clinging to the filter. Let the smoke swirl in your lungs before you exhale, slow, deliberate, watching as it curls between you like something intimate.

You learned a long time ago how easy it is to make a man forget about everything but you. A touch, a look, a well-placed breath—and they’ll unravel at your feet.

Geto is no different.

His pupils dilate, his eyes flickering between your lips, the joint, and back again.

“So,” you murmur, voice dipping into something just shy of teasing, “you think you’ve got me all figured out, huh?”

A lazy smirk tugs at his lips. His fingers—deft, warm, deliberate—trace over yours where they rest against his chest. His heartbeat is fast, just a little erratic, but his voice is steady when he hums, “Mhm.”

You tilt your head. “Then tell me—” You lean in, just close enough that you can make sure he tastes the next inhale of smoke, “—what am I thinking about?”

Geto pauses, the corner of his mouth quirking up, eyes dark and knowing. His fingers tighten over yours, just barely.

“You’re thinking about me,” he murmurs, voice velvet-soft, rich, dangerous. “On top of you.”

And fuck—maybe you are.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, your lips part—just slightly, just enough. And then you close the distance.

The second your mouth touches his, something electric shoots through you, like a live wire sparking against bare skin. You exhale the smoke into his mouth, letting the heat of his lips, the weight of him, consume you. Geto doesn’t hesitate. He inhales it all, deep and slow, before letting the smoke curl lazily from his nostrils like a fucking dragon.

And then—then the hunger wins.

Your fingers find his hair, twisting into the dark strands, yanking hard enough that he groans into your mouth—a sound that shoots straight down your spine, settling low in your stomach like molten heat. The joint slips from your fingers, forgotten, hitting the floor with a dull thud. It doesn’t matter. This is more important. So much more important.

Your lips press harder, claiming him, devouring him, like you’re trying to carve yourself into his bones. His hands are everywhere—sliding down your waist, gripping the curve of your hips, fingers sinking into your ass like he’s staking his claim right here in the middle of the fucking party. And then—smack.

A sharp slap against your ass echoes through the room.

A few people glance over, but you don’t care. You barely notice. Your brain is nothing but static, buzzing with the way he’s touching you, how his body is pressing you into the cool marble counter. You get it now. You understand all the couples you were rolling your eyes at earlier, making out like they were the only two people on the planet. You judged them, and now here you are—worse.

(You mentally apologize to them. You were wrong. You get it. You so get it.)

Geto licks into your mouth, deep and slow, like he’s savoring you. His tongue tangles with yours, his hands guiding your body against his in a way that feels almost too easy, too practiced, like he already knows exactly how to unravel you.

And he does. Fuck—he does.

"Real classy. Real, real classy, babes."

A voice cuts through the haze like a blade, slicing right into the heat of Geto’s lips, his hands, the taste of him still lingering on your tongue. Your breathing is erratic, your body still pressed against his, and when you finally tear yourself away, the hunger in his eyes mirrors your own.

But of course—because the universe hates you—there’s only one person bold enough, obnoxious enough to cockblock you like this.

Gojo Satoru.

His arms are crossed over his chest, lips curled into a smirk so sharp it could cut glass. His eyes gleam under the dimmed lights, twinkling like he’s enjoying every second of this. His white hair is a mess, like he just rolled out of bed—or worse, someone else’s bed. The thought alone makes your stomach turn, and you hate that it does.

"Did you really have to?" Geto groans, tilting his head back with a deep sigh, like he's asking the heavens why they let this happen.

Gojo's smirk only widens, his ears perking up like a damn cat that just found something new to ruin. "Well, sorry," he drawls, voice laced with insincerity. "Yuji disappeared somewhere with Jen, and I'm bored. I don’t wanna be alone."

He even pouts—full-on juts out his bottom lip like an overgrown, spoiled child. You swear he gets off on being the most insufferable person alive.

"Then go somewhere. Socialize," Geto deadpans, sounding like he's already debating walking out of this conversation.

Gojo scoffs, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "Please. Let’s just chill,” he says. “Plus, I’m saving you from her, dude. As if anyone actually wants to be near her."

You snort. "Please. You’re projecting, baby."

His sharp blue eyes snap to yours instantly, and that goddamn smirk deepens, crawling into something more dangerous.

"You sure about that, sweetheart?"

"Well sweetheart, you’re the one wandering around all alone here. I have company."

Your fingers curl around Geto’s bicep, slow and deliberate, like a claim, like a shield, like you’re daring Gojo to say something about it. And he does. Of course, he does.

His smirk deepens, something sharp lurking beneath it. "Yeah? And your company just so happens to be one my best friends. What, you don’t have any of your own anymore?"

The words hit exactly where they’re meant to. Right where it hurts.

Your lips part, but there’s no quick comeback—because he’s not wrong. Not really. There was a time when your circle was bigger, fuller. But it collapsed. You burned bridges, walked away, let it crumble without a second glance.

Except for Ren.

So you nod toward the far-right corner of the room, where Ren is, mouth pressed against that guy’s neck, hands tangled in his hair. Your Ren. The one person you still have. The one person who still believes in you.

"I came here with Ren," you say, voice light, nonchalant, as if the words aren’t a loaded gun pointed at Gojo’s chest.

And then you fire. "It appears as if all your friends always choose me."

The moment the words leave your lips, you see it.

That flicker of something—something real, something raw—pass through his eyes. His jaw tightens. His fingers flex at his sides. You got him.

Because you and Gojo and Ren were everything once. A trio. A home. And then it all shattered, and when the dust settled, Gojo was left standing alone.

And Ren? Ren chose you.

Gojo stares at Ren a second too long. You watch the gears turn in his head, watch the muscle in his jaw tick, watch his body betray him in a dozen little ways. His throat bobs. His foot starts bouncing—an old habit, one you recognize. He’s pissed.

"Well," he finally says, voice low, strangled at the edges. "Looks like Ren’s occupied at the moment."

"He is," you agree, voice dipped in honey, in poison. You lean in, just a little, just enough to let him feel it. "But he’ll come back to me."

And there it is. The moment the knife twists.

You see it happen—see the way something dark passes over his features, the way his lips press into a thin line. His stare burns into you, unreadable and blistering and dangerous.

You crossed a line.

And you meant to.

The silence between you is thick. Suffocating.

Geto clears his throat, a nervous chuckle escaping him. "Okay, guys, let’s not kill each other, yeah?"

He glances between the two of you, trying to gauge what the fuck is going on. But he doesn’t know. He can’t.

All Geto knows is that you and Gojo slept together in high school.

That’s all he knows.

"Let’s…" Geto sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. "Let’s drink something. Satoru, why don’t you bring us some drinks, hmm?"

For a moment, Gojo doesn’t move. Doesn’t react. His eyes stay locked onto yours, an invisible war waging between the two of you.

And then, like flipping a switch, he smiles.

It’s fake. It’s so fake. A bright, easy-going grin spreads across his face, his body relaxing, his tone suddenly light, playful, effortless.

"Sure thing," he chirps, eyes glittering with something unreadable. "I’ll be right back."

Then he turns, walking away like none of this mattered. Like you didn’t just tear him open.

But you know better.

You watch him disappear into the crowd, your pulse still thrumming in your ears.

Because you finally hurt him.

And knowing Gojo Satoru?

It’s going to hurt for a long, long time.

"Don’t miss me too much," Gojo quips, his voice light, teasing.

But something about it feels… off.

You watch as he bounces toward the other room, easy, effortless—like none of this meant anything. Like you mean nothing.

And yet—

He turns. Just for a second.

His eyes meet yours, and for the first time tonight, they’re stripped of their usual bravado. No cocky smirk, no playful glint—just something heavy, something raw. Something that doesn’t belong to Gojo Satoru, the golden boy, but to Satoru, the boy who used to be your best friend.

For a split second, it looks like he wants to say something.

Like he needs you to understand.

And for that split second, you want to. You want to reach out, sift through the weight in his stare, get it the way you used to.

But those days? The days of understanding each other without words? The days of you and Gojo?

They’re dead. Long buried.

So you do what you’ve gotten so good at.

You turn away.

You laugh at something Geto says. You act like Gojo was never here. Like his presence wasn’t just buzzing against your skin.

But he was here. And you feel it.

Gojo Satoru might have walked away. But you know—deep in your bones, in the pit of your stomach, in the quiet part of your mind that still knows him—

He’ll be back.

Soon.

taglist: @zeunys @charmstarr @ovela @kur0mii3 @dabisdolly @17362939 @krispywhisperswhispers @mintcheery @kazupop @heh123321 @hanakotateyama @choppersworlds-blog @eneiyri @suniloli @44ina. @s4ikooo1 @blushedcheri @dishs0pe @rhea-sylvea

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fanfics4all · 3 months ago

Text

Serpent's Secret

Request: Yes / No Hi could you possibly do a Sweet Pea x Jones!Reader where her and Jug are twins and when Betty throws the small party that ends up going wrong in S1 but instead of chuck reveling the secret about Betty instead it’s about Y/n being a serpents and Sweet Pea there and he and Chuck get onto a fight then they go home and she helps him clean up his cuts a smuty ending please 🙏🏻 🙏🏻🙏🏻🙃 Anon

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Sweet Pea x Fem!Reader

Word count: 1601

Warnings: SMUT! Chuck and Sweet Pea getting in a fight? Rough sex, Dom!Sweet Pea

Y/N: Your Name

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK!

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(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

The music pulsed through the Cooper house, the dim lights casting long shadows as bodies moved around in a drunken haze. Betty’s ‘small gathering’ had turned into something much bigger.

I leaned against the kitchen counter, swirling the drink in my cup, side-eyeing Jughead as he sat on the couch, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but here. I felt the same. Parties weren’t really our thing, but Betty had insisted.

“Relax, Y/N.” Betty had told me earlier.

“It’ll just be fun, casual- something to take your mind off things.” Yeah right… I had half a mind to grab Jug and head out when Chuck Clayton, of all people, decided to run his mouth.

“You know, Jughead’s little secret isn’t the only one in the family.” He announced, standing in the middle of the room like he was waiting for a damn spotlight. His words slurred slightly… he was way past the tipsy stage. I tensed. My fingers curled into fists at my sides.

“Chuck, don’t.” Veronica warned, stepping closer, but Chuck just smirked.

“That little Snake over there…” He continued, nodding toward me.

“...isn’t just some moody, brooding Jones twin. Nah, she’s been slithering around with the Serpents for months.” The room fell quiet. My breath hitched. I forced my expression to stay blank, even as eyes snapped to me. Even as Jughead’s lips parted slightly in shock.

“Chuck, shut the hell up.” I said, my voice calm but laced with venom. He laughed.

“Why? Embarrassed? Ashamed?” His gaze flicked to Betty.

“Guess your little bestie isn’t as innocent as you thought.” That’s when he stepped forward.

Sweet Pea.

He had been lingering in the background most of the night, blending into the crowd, but the second Chuck opened his damn mouth, he was at my side.

“What the hell did you just say?” Sweets growled. Chuck grinned, cocky as ever.

“I mean, it’s cute, really- bad girl act, sneaking around with the Southside trash-” That’s all it took. Sweet Pea lunged.

His fist connected with Chuck’s jaw with a sickening crack, sending him stumbling backward into the coffee table. People screamed, scrambling out of the way and Chuck regained his footing and charged. Fists flew. The sound of knuckles against flesh echoed in the room. Chuck got a hit in, catching Sweet Pea’s cheek, but he barely flinched before tackling him to the ground, landing another brutal punch.

“Sweet Pea!” I snapped, grabbing his arm before he could land another blow. His breathing was ragged, nostrils flaring. Chuck groaned beneath him, dazed and bloody.

“He’s not worth it.” I muttered. Sweet’s jaw clenched. His knuckles were bloodied, his lip slit, but after a long tense second, he pushed off Chuck and stood. I grabbed his hand and pulled. We were out the door before anyone could stop is.

We barely spoke on the way back to my trailer. I pushed the door open, pulling him inside, already heading for the first aid kit. Sweet Pea sat on the couch, shoulders stiff, hands still curled into fists. I crouched in front of him, setting the kit down and grabbing antiseptic.

“You didn’t have to do that.” I muttered, dabbing at his split lip. He winced but didn’t pull away.

“Yeah, I did.” I paused, meeting his gaze. His dark eyes burned with something fierce, something protective. My chest tightened. I focused on his knuckles next, carefully wiping away the blood.

“Chuck’s an ass, but he wasn’t wrong about me being a Serpent.”

“So?” Pea tilted his head.

“I don’t care if this whole shitty town knows. You’re one of us, Y/N, always have been.” Something in me softened. I pressed a butterfly bandage against a particularly bad cut, my fingers lingering against his skin.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty.” I teased.

“Would be a shame if Chuck messed up that face of yours.” Sweets smirked, despite the split in his lips.

“You think I’m pretty, huh?” I rolled my eyes, but a small smile tugged at my lips. Sweet Pea grabbed my wrist, pulling me closer, his eyes dark with lust and some remaining anger.

“You know I fucking think you’re beautiful.” He growled, his other hand coming up to grip my hips possessively.

“My little Serpent.” My breath caught in my throat at the intensity of his gaze, the heat of his touch searing through my clothes. Without warning, he crashed his lips against mine in a bruising kiss, all tongue and teeth. I moaned into his mouth, fisting my hands in his shirt. Sweets stood, grabbing my thoughts and hoisting me up. My legs wrapped around his waist as he carried me to my bedroom, not breaking the kiss. He tossed me onto the bed, crawling over me with a predatory gleam in his eyes.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll forget your own name.” He promised darkly, ripping open my flannel to reveal my lacy bra. He buried his face in my tits, kissing and biting the soft swells. I arched into his touch, a low moan escaping my lips. My fingers tangled in his hair, tugging roughly. Sweet Pea made quick work of my bra, freeing my breasts. He latched onto a nipple, fucking hard as he pinched and rolled the other between his fingers. Sparks of pleasure shot straight to my core, making me writhe beneath him.

“Fuck, Pea!” I gasped, grinding my hips against the prominent bulge in his jeans. He chuckled darkly against my skin, releasing my nipple with a wet pop.

“So eager, baby girl.” His hands slid down my stomach to my jeans, popping the button and zipper. Pea yanked my jeans and panties down my legs, tossing them aside. Cool air hit my heated flesh, making me shiver. He pushed my thighs apart, exposing my glistening pussy to his hungry gaze.

“You’re fucking dripping for me.” He groaned, running a finger through my folds. I whimpered, my hips bucking into his touch.

“Such a needy little slut.” Before I could respond, his mouth was on me, licking a long stripe from my entrance to my clit. I cried out, back arching off the bed. Sweets ate me out like a man starved, his tongue delving deep inside me before flicking against my sensitive clit. My hands flew to his hair, holding him against me as he feasted on my pussy. Pleasure coiled tight in my belly, my thighs trembling around his head.

“Oh God, Sweet Pea…” I panted.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum!” He doubled his efforts, sucking my clit hard as he pushed two fingers knuckle-deep inside me. That was all it took to send me hurtling over the edge. I came with a sharp cry, my pussy clenching around his fingers as he pumped them in and out. Pea didn’t let up, continuing to lick and suck through my orgasm until I was boneless and twitching beneath him. Only then did he sit back, licking my juices from his lips with a satisfied smirk.

“That’s one.” He purred, standing up to strip off his clothes. My eyes widened as his cock sprang free, hard, thick, and leaking at the tip.

“I’ve got a few more rounds in me.” He crawled back over me, settling between my spread thighs. The blunt head of his cock notched against my entrance, making me gasp. Sweet Pea held my gaze as he slowly pushed inside, stretching me deliciously. I moaned low in my throat as he bottomed out, his pelvis flush against mine. He started to move, pulling out until just the tip remained before slamming back in. The force rocked my whole body, making my tits bounce. Sweet Pea set a brutal pace, pounding into me with animalistic grunts. The bed creaked beneath us with the force of his thrusts. I clunch to his shoulders, nails digging into his skin as he took me hard and deep.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He groaned, his rhythm faltering slightly as his balls slapped against my ass.

“You feel so goddamn good.”

“Harder…” I panted, tilting my hips to take him deeper.

“Fuck me harder!” Pea snarled, grabbing my thighs and pushing them towards my chest. He shifted the angle of his hips and began to thrust with abandon, hitting that sweet spot inside me with every snap of his hips. Pleasure coiled tight again, my walls starting to flutter around his cock.

“I’m gonna… I’m gonna cum again!” I cried out, burying my face in his neck.

“Not yet.” He commanded, pulling out completely. I whined in protest but he just flipped me over onto my stomach, lifting my hips up. Sweet pea entered me from behind in one swift thrust, his balls slapping against my clit. He grabbed a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back as he started to fuck me again, just as hard and fast as before.

“Yes, yes, fuck!” I screamed, pushing back against him.

“Don’t stop!” He didn’t, pounding into me until the room echoed with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and our combined moans. My second orgasm crashed over me like a tidal wave, making me see stars. Sweet Pea followed soon after with a loud groan, filling me with hot spurts of his cum. He collapsed on top of me, both of us panting harshly as we came down from our highs.

“I fucking love you.” He muttered against my neck, pressing soft kisses to my sweat-slicked skin. I smiled softly, turning my head to capture his lips in a sweet kiss.

“I love you too.” I whispered back.

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @camiconfessions-blog @thecaptainsgingersnap @cenyddtheunicorn @jacksxsouthsideserpents @lover2448 @mamacobie13 @staygoldsquatchling02 @wanderlust-and-poetry @hiighdeex3 @ayeitsjaz @skeletalwolfcat @scarrasco1325 @reblogserpent @darkestbeforethedawn16 @fandom-princess-forevermore @will-noble-owns-my-ass @t-a-i-l-o-r-m-a-d-e @madebyleftovermuses @liz-owl

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asapeveryday · 11 months ago

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CHICKEN

BASICALLY: you and Paige play chicken w the team and she wants to distract you cus she cannnnnn

Warnings: lil bit of teasing, banter. You and Paige are dating. Luh calm.

A/n: ikkkk people are gonna be in the comments asking for a p2 but I’m tired of writing smut it gets so repetitive for me….so this is it for now

“YOU SURE?” You ask, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. It was one thing to be in a bathing suit in front of your athlete girlfriend and her whole team, but practically wrapping your thighs around her and wiggling around as you fight off her friends? Whole other thing.

“C’mon, bae.” Paige whines, playfully tugging your hair to which you exaggerate a groan and shove her off. “Please. It’ll be good.” She starts again, this time embarrassingly getting down on her knees and bringing her hands together in mock-prayer.

“I don’t know, P.” You say, crossing your arms as you look down at her. She’s pulling this face that is absolutely serving to be your weakness, lips pouted out and blue eyes wide. A pleading expression, a needy expression. “One game of chicken.” She whispers through her pout, tilting her head and holding your gaze.

“N’ you don’t gotta worry about anything.” She adds, expression slightly somber now. “I promise I can take you.”

You scoff at the (unintended..maybe?) double meaning of her statement and let out a sigh of defeat. “Fine.” You laugh as she offers her shoulders for mounting. “But I wouldn’t be so sure bout that.”

You carefully set your legs on her broad shoulders, letting them dangle over her chest. Paige’s hands have a strong grip on the muscles of your calves as you grasp the top of her head to steady your balance before she slowly rises from her kneeling position. It’s terrifying but exciting to be this tall.

You’re the last to enter the pool, Paige’s teammates have already doubled up and are finding their balance.

You’re trying your best to calm yourself, though it’s hard when you can feel your heartbeat in your pussy…which is literally on Paige right now. You hope to god that she can’t feel what you can, but even if she can you wouldn’t have known. You can’t see her expression from your position, and she’s being uncharacteristically quiet.

“Why’dyou look so serious?” Ice laughs, Kk swaying on her shoulders.

Paige just shakes her head, unfortunately adding the slightest bit of friction to your problem. You can’t help but tense your thighs around her head, to which she tightens her grip on your legs. You know if she could look up at you with an expression that says ‘careful’ right now she would, but it’s too late for any of that.

“Ok, I’m ready!” Kk claps, and Ice raises her eyebrows. “You sure? You’re a little wobbly.”

Kk just pats Ice’s head. “No time to spare, get her!” She cries, and her hands lunge for you almost faster then you can comprehend.

It’s a fun struggle for a moment, thrashing of water a beneath you and cheers from the girls nearby watching. Kk most definitely overpowers you, but her lack of balance before attacking was a mistake. You manage to get a good shove in, and she’s totally thrown off. There’s a moment of wavering in the air as Ice desperately tries to keep Kk on her shoulders, but she takes an awkward backwards fall into the clear-blue pool water. And with that, you and Paige win.

Paige high-fives the girls who approach her to celebrate as Kk resurfaces and sputters light hearted insults. You hold Nika’s eye as she gets on Aubrey’s shoulders, rising to your height. As the brunette takes a moment to steady herself you almost forget about Paige, until her hands creep higher up your leg to grasp your thighs.

The subtle change in position gives you embarrassing tingles on the skin of your legs, her fingers lightly tapping your flesh, inching excruciatingly closer to the inside of your thighs.

You’re frantic for a moment, eyeing everyone around though they don’t seem to notice. Paige doesn’t try to look up at you, evidently acting innocent as her hand placement becomes more and more indecent. Your focus is now on trying to keep your cool, which serves to be your downfall because Nika is approaching you arms out and ready to fight.

You know you don’t stand a chance against her strength, but you manage to fend for yourself till you feel fingers dip just under the fabric of your bikini bottoms, causing you to accidentally kick Paige’s chest…causing her to double over…causing Nika to land the perfect push…causing you and Paige to wipeout into the water. When you resurface Nika is celebrating her quick win as her teammates scurry around her and Aubrey. You feel hands on your hips so you turn in a split second to face the perpetrator.

“Dude, seriously?” You whine, lightly pushing her toned torso away from you. Paige just scoffs lightly. “Not like you stood a chance anyways, plus I couldn’t help it.” She grins, leaning over to whisper into your ear. “S’hard to focus with you all up on me like that.”

“Freak.” You huff, though you can feel your face getting warm. Paige grins proudly. “You know it.” She says, then clutching her chest. “You did not need to kick my tit though.”

“And you didn’t need to stick your hands under my bikini mid fight.” You retaliate, though part of you wonders if she would’ve gone further.

“When should I then?” She quips, and you glare at her. “Don’t start.” You sigh, but she tightens her grip on you before you can turn away. “I’m serious.” She mumbles.

“Just calm down.” You manage to sputter out, flustered by the way she’s eyeing you. “You’ll get a chance, now get it together or that’s gonna be all the game you get.”

#fanfiction #fanfic #paige bueckers #uconn wbb #paige bueckers x reader #rpf #uconn women’s basketball #paige buckets #paige x reader #Paige

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squidsquidsquidsquidsquidgame · 2 months ago

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Family is Family

summary: How they would act with reader gf who has a little kid from a past relationship

(Hyunju, Thanos, Namgyu, Gyeong seok, Young il, Gi hun, Dae ho, Min su, Sang woo)

(Roh jae won, Choi san, Kim seo wan)

Also this is a new add, please lmk if you like it

(Kim Namjoon, Min yoongi, JHope)

Hyunju

The morning light streamed through the window, casting a soft glow on the cozy living room. You were sitting on the couch, scrolling through your phone, trying to get a few things done while your daughter, Nari, played with her toys on the floor.

Hyun-Ju had been staying with you for a couple of weeks now, and things were going great. You couldn't help but smile every time you looked at her—she was a calming presence, her soft laugh and kind eyes always putting you at ease. It had been an easy transition, even with the little adjustments that came with having a toddler in the mix.

"Nari, sweetie, do you want to wear your pretty outfit today?" you asked your daughter, who paused for a moment, staring at you with wide eyes.

Hyun-Ju, who had been tidying up in the kitchen, turned around at the sound of your voice. She smiled when she saw Nari looking at you in confusion, as if unsure about the outfit.

"I think she’s ready for it," Hyun-Ju said with a playful grin. "How about I help her? I think it’ll be fun."

You raised an eyebrow, amused. "Are you sure? She's a bit squirmy this morning."

Hyun-Ju stepped forward, her eyes twinkling. "I can handle it. We’ll make a game out of it."

You chuckled, watching as Hyun-Ju knelt down to Nari’s level. The toddler, still unsure, looked at Hyun-Ju with an adorable frown.

"Hey, Nari," Hyun-Ju said softly, her voice gentle but full of warmth. "Do you want to look like a princess today?"

Nari's eyes lit up at the mention of a princess, and she clapped her hands excitedly, already forgetting the uncertainty.

"Princess!" Nari cheered, pointing at the pink dress you had laid out on the couch earlier.

"Okay, let’s do this," Hyun-Ju said with a grin, gently lifting the little girl into her arms. "First, we need to take off your jammies. Can you help me, Nari?"

Nari nodded, giggling as Hyun-Ju carefully removed the pajamas, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight of them. The way Hyun-Ju interacted with Nari was so tender and loving—it was as if she had been a part of your little family for much longer than just a few weeks.

With a little twirl, Hyun-Ju presented the matching pink dress. It was simple but adorable, with tiny white flowers embroidered on the fabric. Nari’s tiny hands reached out eagerly for it, her excitement palpable.

"Okay, princess," Hyun-Ju said as she slid the dress over Nari's head, making sure it fit perfectly. "You look gorgeous. Let’s put on your matching socks now."

As Hyun-Ju gently pulled the matching pink socks onto Nari’s tiny feet, Nari giggled and tried to help by kicking her feet around. Hyun-Ju laughed, her face lighting up as she adjusted the socks with care.

"All done," Hyun-Ju said, lifting Nari up to show her the full look. "How do you feel, princess?"

Nari’s little face beamed, and she clapped her hands again. "Pretty! Pretty!"

You stood from the couch, your heart swelling at the sight of the two of them. Hyun-Ju gave you a proud smile, clearly pleased with how things had turned out.

“She looks adorable,” you said softly, taking a moment to admire your daughter in the matching outfit.

Hyun-Ju nodded, brushing a strand of hair behind Nari’s ear. “She really does.”

Nari ran over to you, holding her arms out for a hug. You scooped her up, giving her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you for helping her get dressed, Hyun-Ju," you said, your voice filled with appreciation.

Hyun-Ju smiled warmly. "It was my pleasure. I think she’s going to be the most beautiful little girl in the world today."

You leaned in to kiss her cheek, feeling the comfort and love between you all. In that moment, everything felt perfect.

Thanos

It had been a long day at work. The kind where time slipped away, hours evaporating into tasks and meetings, and you couldn’t remember the last time you took a proper breath. When you finally left the office, the weight of exhaustion settled on your shoulders. You missed your little girl. You missed home.

As you walked in, the soft sound of a lullaby drifted from the living room, a familiar, comforting melody. At first, you thought you were imagining it, but the more you listened, the clearer it became.

You stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind you. The dim light of the lamp by the couch created a soft glow in the otherwise dark room. There, you saw him—Choi Su-Bong, the gentle, tall figure you had grown to love over the past few weeks, sitting at the edge of your daughter’s crib. His deep voice, usually gruff and authoritative, was low and soothing, singing a soft lullaby in a way that made your heart flutter.

Your daughter, with her big, sleepy eyes and her teddy bear in hand, was lying in her crib, already drowsy. Thanos’s presence had this effect on her—she seemed to relax in a way she didn’t always do with others. The way he held her tiny hand as he sang made your chest tighten with affection.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching them both. Thanos hadn’t noticed you yet. The sincerity in his actions, the gentle care he took with her, made you feel like the luckiest person in the world. You didn’t know how he had learned to sing her favorite song, but the way his voice wrapped around the notes made everything feel warm, like a safe little world, just for the two of them.

"She’s finally calm after a long day," he said softly as he finished the lullaby, glancing over at you with that subtle, easy smile of his.

"Thanos, you... you’re singing her to sleep?" you asked, still a little surprised.

He chuckled, the sound deep and soothing, matching the peaceful atmosphere he’d created. "She loves this song. Figured I’d give it a try." His smile widened, and his eyes softened when he looked at you. "How was your day?"

You stepped closer, your heart full as you watched him with your daughter. "Busy, long. But now, it’s perfect." You bent down to kiss your daughter’s forehead, careful not to wake her, before looking up at Thanos. "Thank you," you whispered. "For doing this."

He shrugged slightly, his usual stoic demeanor intact, but there was a softness in his eyes as he gazed at you. "I don’t mind. It’s nice... having this peace after everything."

You smiled, your hand gently brushing the back of his. "You’ve been good to her."

He let out a quiet breath, his fingers entwining with yours as he gave your hand a gentle squeeze. "She’s a good kid. And you... you’re worth it." His voice was low, full of sincerity.

With a little nod, you settled beside him, your shoulder resting against his. The two of you watched your daughter sleep, the only sound in the room being her steady breaths and the quiet rhythm of your own heartbeats.

For that moment, everything was still. There was no rush, no chaos, just the quiet of your small family. You leaned your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his presence and knowing, for the first time in a long while, that everything was just as it should be.

The night stretched on, peaceful and slow, as Thanos’s arm went around you, pulling you close, while the lullaby in his heart continued to hum softly through the room.

Namgyu

It had only been a few weeks since you and Nam-Gyu had started dating, but already he was making you feel like the luckiest person in the world. He was kind, attentive, and, much to your surprise, incredibly great with your son, Su-Min, who was still getting used to having a new person in his life.

One crisp morning, you were running late—again. Su-Min, as usual, was refusing to get dressed, distracted by the toys strewn across the living room floor. You could already feel the stress of the day piling up, but before you could call for backup, Nam-Gyu appeared at the door with a gentle smile.

"Hey," he greeted, voice calm and soothing, like he always was. "I know you're in a rush. How about I take Su-Min to daycare today?"

You blinked in surprise, momentarily stunned by his offer. Nam-Gyu had been patient with Su-Min from the start, but this was a new level of involvement. You glanced at him and then back to your son, who was still holding onto a stuffed bear like it was the most important thing in the world.

“Are you sure?” you asked, unsure if it was too much too soon.

Nam-Gyu gave you a reassuring look, bending down to Su-Min’s level. “I don’t mind at all. I’ve got it covered.” He gently tickled Su-Min’s chin, making the toddler giggle. “You just get yourself ready. I’ll take care of everything.”

You weren’t sure if it was his charm or just how natural he made it seem, but you felt a sense of relief. You nodded, smiling gratefully. “Thank you, Nam-Gyu. That really helps.”

In the kitchen, Nam-Gyu was already packing a little lunch for Su-Min: a small container filled with sandwiches, apple slices, and a few cookies—just enough for a little treat after lunch. He hummed to himself as he carefully made sure everything was packed and secured, his attention to detail always impressing you.

As you quickly finished getting ready, you could hear the soft creak of the stroller being rolled into the living room. When you emerged from the bedroom, you found Nam-Gyu expertly buckling Su-Min into the stroller, the little one grinning up at him, totally unaware of the usual chaos that normally accompanied getting out the door.

“Ready to go, buddy?” Nam-Gyu asked softly, adjusting the blanket around the toddler’s legs before placing a small toy in Su-Min's hands.

Su-Min’s response was a gleeful “Yeah!” before he began babbling about the birds outside.

You watched them for a moment, feeling a warmth in your chest. The way Nam-Gyu had slipped into this role, without hesitation, made you realize how much he truly cared. You’d never expected someone to bond with your son so quickly, but here they were, looking like a team already.

The walk to daycare was peaceful, the streets quiet under the early morning sky. Nam-Gyu pushed the stroller with practiced ease, chatting to Su-Min about the world around them. He pointed out cars, trees, and even a couple of dogs on their way, making sure to keep Su-Min entertained and engaged.

“Look, Su-Min, it’s a big red truck!” Nam-Gyu exclaimed, his voice filled with excitement.

Su-Min turned his head, eyes lighting up as he pointed a tiny finger at the truck. “Big!” he squealed.

Nam-Gyu smiled, proud of the little one’s enthusiasm. “That’s right. Big red truck. Maybe we’ll see more trucks on the way back.”

By the time they reached the daycare, Su-Min had already become attached to Nam-Gyu’s gentle nature. He even let out a little “Bye-bye!” as Nam-Gyu carefully lifted him out of the stroller.

“Bye-bye, Su-Min. Have a good day, little guy. I’ll see you later,” Nam-Gyu said softly, giving him a small wave.

You caught up with them just as Nam-Gyu handed Su-Min to the daycare worker, who greeted him with a friendly smile.

“Thank you again, Nam-Gyu,” you said, your heart full of gratitude. You leaned in and kissed him on the cheek. “You’re making this a lot easier.”

“Anytime,” he said, his eyes soft. “I like spending time with Su-Min. It’s no trouble at all.”

You gave him a look, wondering how you got so lucky. “Well, you’re definitely winning him over. I think he’s already starting to like you more than me.”

Nam-Gyu chuckled, pulling you into a brief hug. “I’m just trying to make it easier for both of you. You’re doing a great job, you know.”

As you walked back together, feeling the peace of the morning settle in, you realized that, with Nam-Gyu by your side, the road ahead didn’t feel so daunting after all.

Gyeong seok

It was a peaceful Saturday morning, and Gyeong-Seok had just settled in on the couch, expecting to relax with you for a quiet day at home. Ji-Woo, your energetic 2-and-a-half-year-old daughter, was busy with her toys, her giggles filling the room as she tried to keep up with Na-Yeon, who had come over for a playdate.

“Gyeong-Seok, are you ready to have a fun day with the girls?” you asked, teasing him lightly as he sank into the couch with a sigh of relief.

He chuckled. “I’m always ready for chaos when it comes to Na-Yeon and Ji-Woo.”

Just as you spoke, Ji-Woo and Na-Yeon bounded toward him, their faces lighting up with excitement. Ji-Woo, holding a small plastic makeup kit in her hand, grinned at him with the determination only a toddler could possess.

“pops, we make you pretty!” Ji-Woo exclaimed, her voice full of mischief. (Ji-Woo calls him pops because she's got a diff Appa)

Gyeong-Seok raised an eyebrow, his usually composed expression faltering for a second. “Uh, do I have a choice in this?”

Before he could even respond, Na-Yeon was already rummaging through her toy chest, pulling out some hair clips, colorful ribbons, and a stuffed bunny that she proudly placed on Gyeong-Seok’s lap. Ji-Woo was already giving him a few dabs of blush, her little hands smearing it slightly too much on his cheeks.

“Hey, wait, no—” Gyeong-Seok protested, but he was too late. Na-Yeon had already begun brushing his hair, not exactly in a way that could be called "styled," more like tangled up into a wild array of strands sticking out in every direction.

You stifled a laugh from the kitchen, trying to pretend you weren’t watching the hilarious scene unfold. Gyeong-Seok was still trying to maintain some dignity, but the little girls weren’t having it.

“Appa, your hair needs more ribbons!” Na-Yeon declared proudly, wrapping one around his ear and another across his forehead. Gyeong-Seok looked like he had just stepped out of a magical disaster, his hair looking like it had been through a tornado.

“What do you think, Ji-Woo?” Na-Yeon asked, holding up a mirror to Ji-Woo’s face.

Ji-Woo squinted at the mirror and then nodded seriously. “Pretty!”

Gyeong-Seok, now completely covered in ribbons, blush, and a half-done up-do that could only be described as "abstract art," glanced at you in desperation. “Help?” he said, though it came out more like a plea.

You walked over, unable to hide your laughter any longer. “What did they do to you?”

“I was just trying to relax!” he groaned. “I didn’t sign up for this level of ‘pretty’.”

Na-Yeon, proud of her masterpiece, stepped back and gave him a look of approval. “See, Appa? You look great!”

You knelt beside Ji-Woo, who was happily clapping her hands. “Yes, sweetie, you both did such a good job.”

Gyeong-Seok groaned but couldn’t help but smile at their pure joy. His embarrassment faded as he looked at the girls, their innocence and happiness were contagious. He pulled Ji-Woo and Na-Yeon into his lap and patted rubbed their back, despite the sticky makeup on her fingers.

“I guess I’ll just have to live with it,” he said with a laugh, finally surrendering to the makeover.

“Can I take a picture?” you asked, already pulling out your phone.

Gyeong-Seok’s eyes widened in mock horror. “You wouldn’t—”

“Of course, I would,” you grinned, snapping a picture of him, his ridiculous hair and makeup forever preserved in digital history.

Gyeong-Seok groaned, but the sound was warm with affection. “I swear, you two are going to be the end of me.”

Na-Yeon and Ji-Woo, however, were far too pleased with their work to be concerned. Gyeong-Seok had become their personal masterpiece, and they were already planning their next project.

And as you watched them laugh together, the scene was a perfect reminder of how much love and happiness your new little family had. Even if it meant being a victim of a messy makeover from time to time.

Young il

It was a crisp Saturday morning, the sun just beginning to peek through the curtains as the sound of birds chirping filtered into the room. You were in the kitchen, brewing coffee, when you heard the unmistakable laughter of your son, Seo-Joon. You peeked around the corner, smiling at the sight.

Young-Il was sitting cross-legged on the floor, holding Seo-Joon securely in his arms as the little one giggled uncontrollably. His tiny legs kicked in excitement, his hands reaching up for the sky.

“You ready for some fun, Seo-Joon?” Young-Il asked with a playful grin, his eyes lighting up every time your son made a noise. Seo-Joon squealed, his eyes wide with pure joy.

You leaned against the doorframe, watching as Young-Il carefully lifted Seo-Joon into the air, holding him for a second before bringing him down just to repeat the motion again.

“Whee!” Young-Il cheered each time, his voice filled with warmth and affection. Seo-Joon’s giggles filled the room, each one making Young-Il’s heart swell with love.

“Look at him, Y/N! He’s loving it!” Young-Il laughed, his eyes gleaming.

Seo-Joon, still grasping the air as if trying to catch the imaginary breeze, let out a big smile, his face glowing with joy. The way Young-Il treated him with such care, his gentle hands supporting Seo-Joon's little body as he tossed him into the air, made your heart flutter.

You watched as Young-Il’s smile never faded, his whole focus on Seo-Joon. He was perfect for your little one, the way he instinctively knew how to make him laugh, how to make him feel safe.

“You’re so good with him,” you said, your voice soft with affection.

Young-Il looked up at you, his expression filled with a mixture of pride and something deeper, something that made your heart skip a beat.

“I’m just getting started,” he teased, catching Seo-Joon again and cradling him in his arms. “Ready for one more round, little man?”

Seo-Joon gave a loud coo of excitement, his chubby arms reaching out as if begging for more. Young-Il grinned, lifting him up again, his movements smooth and filled with tenderness.

You couldn't help but laugh, your heart swelling as you watched the two of them bond. Seo-Joon’s laughter, your baby’s pure happiness, felt like everything had come together in the most perfect way. With Young-Il in your life, things felt whole.

“Okay, Seo-Joon,” you said, stepping into the room and sitting down next to Young-Il. “Time for a nap, buddy.”

Young-Il smiled warmly, still holding Seo-Joon carefully, and kissed the top of his little head. “We’ll play more later, I promise.”

You placed a hand on his shoulder, a silent moment of connection passing between you. It wasn’t just about fun; it was about building something beautiful together—something that was growing stronger with every passing day.

Gi hun

Gi-Hun had never quite felt the way he did that day—excited, a little nervous, and definitely out of his comfort zone. But there was something about Moon, your little boy, that made him want to try. Today wasn’t just a regular day. It was a special day. A day where he could make a lasting memory with Moon.

"Ready for your big adventure, little guy?" Gi-Hun asked, looking down at Moon, who was holding his hand with a grip that was surprisingly strong for a four-year-old. Moon’s big eyes sparkled with curiosity, his little face lighting up with a shy smile as they approached the entrance of the toy store.

"Yeah!" Moon said, his voice soft but full of excitement. "I can pick anything?"

Gi-Hun chuckled, bending down to Moon’s level. "Anything you want," he confirmed, his tone warm. "But remember, you gotta pick something that’ll make you happy."

Moon’s eyes darted around as they stepped inside, and Gi-Hun was taken aback by how big the store was—rows and rows of colorful toys, shelves packed with action figures, dolls, and board games. He’d been to a toy store as a child, but now, with a little boy beside him, it felt different. It felt like this moment mattered more than any other.

"Let’s go!" Moon tugged at his sleeve, his tiny feet already running toward a display of action figures. Gi-Hun followed at a leisurely pace, letting the boy explore at his own speed.

Gi-Hun didn’t know much about toys. He had grown up in a world where that wasn’t a priority. But Moon, well, Moon was different. He could sense how important this moment was for him, for both of them. He wasn’t just buying a toy today—he was becoming part of Moon’s world, connecting with him in a way that would stay with him forever.

"Look, Gi-Hun!" Moon shouted, holding up a plastic dinosaur figure, its tail swishing in the air as he swung it around. "I wanna get this one!" He looked up with wide eyes, waiting for Gi-Hun’s approval.

Gi-Hun crouched beside him again, inspecting the toy carefully. "I think that’s a pretty cool dinosaur," he said, grinning. "What made you pick it?"

Moon shrugged, his little shoulders bouncing. "It’s green," he said simply, his excitement bubbling over. "And big! It’s strong, like me!" He struck a little pose, his chest puffing out in a way that made Gi-Hun smile.

"Strong like you, huh?" Gi-Hun chuckled. "I think that’s a great choice."

Moon’s face lit up. "Really?"

"Really," Gi-Hun said with a nod. "It’s all yours."

Moon jumped up and down in excitement, his laughter filling the aisle. Gi-Hun stood up, reaching into his pocket to grab his wallet, but then paused, looking down at the boy with a sudden thought.

"You sure you don’t want to look around a little more?" he asked. "There are a lot of cool toys in here."

Moon shook his head. "Nope! This is the one! It’s perfect."

Gi-Hun couldn’t help but smile at how sure Moon was of his choice. There was a simplicity in the way children saw the world—so full of wonder and certainty. Maybe Gi-Hun could learn a thing or two from that.

As they walked to the counter, with Moon clutching the dinosaur tightly, Gi-Hun glanced at him. "You’re gonna take good care of him, right?" he asked softly.

Moon nodded seriously, holding the toy protectively against his chest. "I’ll make sure he’s always safe," he promised, his little voice full of determination.

"Good," Gi-Hun said, his heart swelling a little. He wasn’t sure what the future held, but at that moment, he knew that he was doing something right.

I hope you like it! Would you like to add anything else or develop it further?

Dae ho

It was a quiet Tuesday morning when you woke up to the smell of something delicious wafting from the kitchen. At first, you thought it was just your imagination—maybe you were still half-asleep. But then the scent grew stronger, and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. You shuffled out of bed, careful not to wake Hae-Lin, who was still sleeping soundly beside you.

As you made your way to the kitchen, you blinked in surprise. Dae-Ho, who had only recently become a part of your life, was standing at the stove, flipping pancakes with an intense concentration. His usual calm demeanor was now replaced with an unusual focus, and you couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

"Good morning," you said softly, not wanting to startle him.

He turned with a warm smile, his eyes lighting up when he saw you. "Morning," he replied, his voice soft but cheerful. "I thought I’d surprise Hae-Lin with her favorite breakfast."

Your heart melted a little at the thought. Dae-Ho had only recently entered your life, but it felt like he was already trying so hard to be there for you—and for Hae-Lin.

You leaned against the counter, watching as he expertly flipped the pancakes, a little laugh escaping your lips as you realized just how much he was trying. "You’re making her pancakes?" you asked, raising an eyebrow playfully. "She’s going to be over the moon."

Dae-Ho glanced over his shoulder at you, a slight blush creeping up his neck. "I’ve seen how much she loves them. Thought I’d give it a shot." He paused, his hands stilling for a moment before he continued. "I… I want to do things right, you know? For both of you."

A swell of affection filled your chest at his words, and you moved closer to him, wrapping your arms around his waist for a brief hug. "You’re already doing perfectly, Dae-Ho."

He stiffened slightly at the unexpected gesture but then relaxed into it, his body warm and comforting against yours. After a moment, he gently pulled away to finish making the pancakes, and you moved to set the table, your heart full of gratitude for this man who seemed to care for you and your daughter so deeply.

It wasn’t long before Hae-Lin wandered into the kitchen, her small, sleepy form making its way to the table. Her eyes widened when she saw the pancakes stacked high on the plate in front of her, complete with a little pile of strawberries on the side.

"Eomma, look!" she exclaimed, pointing at the breakfast in awe. "Is that for me?"

You grinned and nodded. "It sure is, sweetheart. Dae-Ho made it just for you."

Hae-Lin's eyes sparkled, and she scrambled to sit at the table, already reaching for the syrup. "Yay! I love pancakes!"

Dae-Ho took a seat beside her, his expression soft as he watched her eagerly devour her breakfast. "I’m glad you like them," he said gently, his voice warm and a little shy.

Hae-Lin gave him a bright smile, syrup dripping down her chin. "Thank you, Dae-Ho!"

Your heart swelled as you watched the two of them interact, feeling a quiet sense of contentment settle over you. It was moments like this that made you realize just how much this new chapter of your life could be something beautiful. Maybe it wasn’t perfect, but it was real, and it felt right.

And as you sat down beside them, joining in on the quiet, happy morning, you couldn’t help but think that this was the start of something wonderful for all of you.

Min su

It was a lazy afternoon, the kind where the world felt a little quieter, and the air was just cool enough for comfort. Min-Su had only been with you for a couple of months now, and everything still felt so new but natural. He had become fond of spending time with you and your two-year-old son, Hyun-Woo, especially on days like today when there was no rush and nothing to do but enjoy each other's company.

The two of you were sitting in the living room, the light filtering softly through the curtains. Hyun-Woo had taken an immediate liking to Min-Su. The way he laughed at the sound of Min-Su’s silly noises and how he reached for him, eagerly handing him his toy cars, was a clear sign that Min-Su was already becoming a solid part of his life.

"Min-Su! Look! Vroom vroom!" Hyun-Woo chirped, showing off a little red car he was holding tightly in his hands. His small fingers gripped it with determination as he pushed it along the floor, making car noises that were more enthusiastic than accurate.

Min-Su smiled, his heart warming at the sight of the tiny boy so focused on his toys. He leaned back against the couch, one arm resting casually along the back, watching Hyun-Woo play. “Vroom vroom, huh? Let’s see if I can make mine go faster!”

With that, he reached for one of the toy cars Hyun-Woo had scattered across the floor, pretending to race it with exaggerated speed. Hyun-Woo giggled, his tiny hands clapping as he tried to race his own cars alongside Min-Su’s.

The room felt peaceful. The kind of peace that only happened when you were with someone you felt comfortable with, someone who wasn’t just your partner, but also learning to be a part of your family in small, quiet moments like this.

Hyun-Woo, after a few more minutes of racing cars, flopped down onto the couch beside Min-Su. His little body curled up, his eyes getting heavier as the lull of the afternoon took its effect. Min-Su didn’t mind at all. His hand instinctively reached down to gently stroke Hyun-Woo’s soft hair, feeling the quiet rhythm of his breaths.

Before long, Hyun-Woo was asleep, his tiny body curled against Min-Su’s side, clutching the red car tightly in his little hand. Min-Su chuckled softly, realizing he had been so caught up in the moment that he hadn’t even noticed his own exhaustion catching up with him. The sound of Hyun-Woo’s steady breathing and the warmth of the boy leaning against him made Min-Su feel more at home than he ever thought possible.

He shifted slightly to make himself more comfortable, his legs stretching out as Hyun-Woo's weight settled further onto his lap. A soft yawn escaped Min-Su's lips, and soon enough, his eyelids grew heavy. It wasn’t long before he found himself drifting into a light sleep, with Hyun-Woo resting on his lap, the sound of his gentle breaths mixing with the peaceful quiet of the room.

You peeked into the living room, seeing the two of them: Min-Su, his arms protectively around Hyun-Woo, both of them peacefully asleep. Your heart swelled with warmth. It was moments like this—quiet, intimate, and filled with the simplest kind of love—that made everything feel right.

You couldn’t help but smile as you watched the man who was already becoming an important part of your life and your son’s, softly drifting off together in a shared moment of comfort and trust.

Your family wasn’t perfect, but in this moment, it felt complete.

Sang woo

It was a beautiful day. Warm, sunny, a refreshing breeze that made all the trees sway. You and him were gonna have a little lunch date. But as he walked past the building on his usual route, he noticed the children playing outside. The warm afternoon sun filtered through the trees, casting soft shadows across the playground as the little ones ran, their laughter filling the air.

He didn’t stop—he was on his way to meet you, after all—but he slowed his pace when a familiar voice reached his ears. It was high-pitched, a sound full of innocence and excitement.

“Mr. Sang-Woo! Mr. Sang-Woo!”

His heart skipped a beat as he turned toward the sound, seeing your daughter, Ye-Eun, bounding toward the fence that separated the playground from the sidewalk. Her face lit up with joy when she spotted him, her little hands gripping the chain link as she leaned forward, eager to talk.

“Ye-Eun?” Sang-Woo blinked in surprise, his lips curling into a soft smile. He wasn’t used to being addressed like that, especially not by a child. But there was something undeniably endearing about the way she called his name with such enthusiasm.

“Hi, Mr. Sang-Woo!” Ye-Eun chirped, her pigtails bouncing as she hopped from one foot to the other. “What are you doing here?”

Sang-Woo paused, a little taken aback by the question. He glanced down at the little girl through the fence, his expression softening. He wasn’t sure what to say—it wasn’t like he had any specific reason to be here other than the fact that he was on his way to see you. But somehow, seeing Ye-Eun’s bright face made everything feel a little lighter.

“I was just walking by,” he said, taking a step closer to the fence. “What about you? What’s all this?” He gestured to the playground, watching as the other children played in the background, some kicking a ball, others climbing on the jungle gym.

“We’re having outside playtime!” Ye-Eun beamed. “We’re gonna play tag later, and I’m gonna be the fastest runner!”

“Oh yeah?” Sang-Woo chuckled, clearly amused by her confidence. “I’m sure you’ll win.”

Ye-Eun nodded vigorously. “I always win! I’m the best at running!” She said it with such certainty that Sang-Woo couldn’t help but laugh. He had to admit, it was cute seeing her so proud of something so simple.

As she continued to talk about her plans for the rest of playtime, Sang-Woo couldn’t help but notice how natural it felt, like a part of him was already here, in this moment with her. His thoughts briefly drifted to you—how you had spoken of Ye-Eun with such love, how you’d mentioned how important it was for the two of them to have a good relationship with anyone you might bring into your life.

He cleared his throat, suddenly aware of how long he’d been standing there. “Well, I hope you win your race, Ye-Eun.”

“Thanks, Mr. Sang-Woo!” She said, her smile widening. “Will you come watch me run?”

“I’ll try,” he answered, his voice surprisingly warm. “Maybe next time.”

Ye-Eun nodded enthusiastically before turning back to the other kids, her attention already back on the game.

Sang-Woo stood there for a moment longer, watching her run off with her friends. There was something about that interaction that left him feeling... different. He wasn’t used to being around kids, and certainly not like this—lighthearted, easygoing. But as he turned to continue his walk, a small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at his lips.

Maybe things were changing, and maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

Roh jae won

It was a quiet morning, the kind of peaceful stillness that only existed in the calm before a busy day. The soft rustling of leaves could be heard as a gentle breeze made its way through the trees. Roh Jae-Won, dressed casually in a simple white T-shirt and jeans, smiled at the little girl in the stroller beside him. Hyun Ae, only a year old but already with an inquisitive glint in her eyes, sat contentedly, her tiny hands gripping the edge of the stroller as they made their way down the sidewalk.

"Alright, Hyun Ae," Jae-Won spoke softly, a playful tone in his voice, "We're going to get some fruits today. I hope you’re ready for a little adventure."

Hyun Ae gurgled in response, her small face lighting up with a grin. Her eyes followed the movement of the birds flying above, her little legs kicking excitedly as if she knew exactly what was coming next.

Jae-Won pushed the stroller with a relaxed pace, enjoying the rare moment of calm. They had only recently started dating, but already, he’d come to enjoy the times spent with her daughter. Hyun Ae, while still young, had a special way of making everything feel bright and simple. It was a little different than his usual busy days, but he found he didn’t mind. In fact, he was starting to look forward to these moments.

"You’re going to like this," Jae-Won said, grinning as he glanced at Hyun Ae. "You’ll see all sorts of colorful fruits at the market. I’m thinking we’ll get some strawberries... Maybe some peaches too?"

Hyun Ae babbled a happy response, her small fingers reaching out toward a passing butterfly. Jae-Won chuckled, amused by her curiosity.

The supermarket was just a few blocks away, and the walk was short, but it was the perfect opportunity to talk, even if most of the conversation was one-sided. Jae-Won loved how patient Hyun Ae seemed to be with him, listening with wide eyes as he spoke to her like she was an old friend.

By the time they reached the entrance to the market, Hyun Ae had already begun to fuss a little, her eyes scanning the area as if something about the new environment intrigued her. Jae-Won pushed the stroller through the automatic doors, the cool air of the market refreshing against the warm morning sunlight.

"Alright, let's pick out some good fruit, shall we?" Jae-Won murmured to her as they wheeled over to the produce section. The bright colors of apples, oranges, and bananas greeted them. He lifted Hyun Ae slightly in her stroller so she could get a better view, letting her little hands reach out as if to touch the fruits. "You see, all these are what we’re going to bring home. But we need the juiciest ones."

The toddler cooed, her attention fixed on the vivid red apples. Jae-Won chuckled, picking up a few and gently placing them in a small basket. "You really know what you want, huh?"

As they continued to browse, Jae-Won couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth in his chest. The little family moment, though simple, felt more meaningful than he expected. Hyun Ae’s innocent excitement, her laughter at the sight of new things, and the way she kept reaching out for whatever caught her attention—it was a reminder of how much joy the smallest things could bring.

Eventually, they ended up at the fruit stand where the strawberries were piled high, their sweet scent drifting through the air. Jae-Won leaned down slightly, showing Hyun Ae the basket of strawberries. “How about these? Look at how red and sweet they are."

Hyun Ae reached out, her tiny hand grasping the air as if to grab one. Jae-Won laughed softly, taking the opportunity to place a small container in their basket. "Okay, okay, we’ll take some of these for you."

By the time they made it to the checkout, Jae-Won was feeling more content than ever. He glanced at Hyun Ae, her eyelids drooping with the weight of the walk and the excitement. He gently rocked the stroller as they waited in line, humming a soft tune to soothe her.

The cashier gave them a warm smile as they paid for their fruits. "Looks like you’ve got a good haul there," she said. "Is this for a special occasion?"

Jae-Won smiled, his heart swelling just a little. "Just for a little walk with my favorite girl," he replied, glancing down at Hyun Ae, who was now drifting off to sleep. "She’s already made the trip worth it."

With the bag of fruits in hand and a quiet Hyun Ae snoozing in the stroller, Jae-Won pushed the stroller back out into the sunlight, ready to head home. He couldn’t help but think that this little outing had become one of his favorite memories with her so far.

As they made their way back, Jae-Won couldn’t stop smiling. There was something so simple, so peaceful, about the walk—the way Hyun Ae made everything feel new again, and how he had the privilege of being part of it.

He wasn’t sure what the future held, but in that moment, as the gentle breeze ruffled his hair and the soft sound of Hyun Ae’s breath filled the air, he was certain of one thing: he was already looking forward to more mornings like this.

Choi san

It was a typical busy night for ATEEZ, filled with flashing lights, booming speakers, and the adrenaline that came with being on stage. But for San, something felt different tonight. He couldn’t quite place it at first—was it the energy of the crowd, the warmth of his members, or perhaps the way his heart kept fluttering whenever he thought of you?

But then, in the middle of the performance, the sight of you standing just behind the stage caught his attention. And it wasn’t just you—Naree was with you, bouncing on her little feet with a smile that could light up any room.

She looked so tiny in her oversized earmuffs, her little arms flailing to the rhythm of the music, dancing in her own little world. The sight of her so full of joy—watching him, her innocent, unfiltered happiness—touched something deep within him. He felt his chest tighten as he watched her twirl and wiggle along with the beat, clearly proud to be supporting him, even in her toddler way.

San’s heart ached in the most beautiful way.

He almost lost his place during the chorus as his eyes stayed fixed on the two of you. But the choreography carried him, and he kept singing with his usual energy, though his mind and heart were a thousand miles away, right there with you and Naree.

He tried to shake it off, focusing back on the performance, but as he glanced back at you both again, Naree smiled up at you and then waved enthusiastically at the stage. Her smile was pure, innocent, and so incredibly full of love. In that moment, something broke inside him. His emotions overwhelmed him so suddenly that he didn’t know how to contain them.

As he sang his next line, his throat tightened, and he could feel the warm sting of tears at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t blink fast enough to keep them from escaping. But he couldn’t let his fans see, not when everything was still so new, so personal. He couldn’t tell them why—why his heart felt so full right then—but it was because Naree, his new little sunshine, was dancing for him, and you were there, standing by his side.

The music drowned out the sound of his heartbeat as he choked back a sob, trying to hold it together, even as his vision blurred slightly.

His members noticed, of course. Seonghwa shot him a concerned look from across the stage, but San just shook his head, sending a quick, reassuring smile to his hyung. He didn’t need to explain. They understood what this meant, and they respected the secret he was carrying in his heart.

When the song came to an end, he could barely contain himself, taking a deep breath and forcing his usual charismatic smile back onto his face. But his eyes still searched for you and Naree, and when he spotted you both, standing hand-in-hand just beyond the stage, his heart soared. The tears he had held back were nothing compared to the joy he felt inside.

After the concert, when he finally made his way off the stage, his members gave him knowing glances, a silent understanding between them. But it was when he saw you again, your face lit up with warmth and pride, that the dam broke. He pulled you and Naree into a tight embrace, burying his face in your hair, whispering, “I’m so happy… you have no idea.”

And as Naree tugged at his shirt and tried to show him the little dance she had been doing earlier, San couldn’t help but cry a little, feeling as though he had just found his place in the world, with you and her by his side.

He didn’t need to tell anyone about the love he felt. The way Naree danced for him tonight was enough. It spoke louder than any words ever could.

Seo Wan

It was a rainy afternoon when you and Seok-min made your way to the hospital to visit Seo-Wan. The sound of raindrops tapping against the car windows seemed to blend with the soft giggles of your little boy in the backseat. Seok-min had been incredibly excited all morning, clutching the small bag he had prepared for Seo-Wan. Inside, a dragon plushie with shiny green scales, a little coloring book featuring dragons, and a small bouquet of wildflowers from the park were carefully arranged.

"Mommy, will Seo-Wan like the dragon?" Seok-min asked, his wide eyes filled with innocent anticipation. His favorite toys were all dragons, from plushies to action figures, and he knew that Seo-Wan liked dragons too.

"Of course, sweetheart," you reassured him, glancing at him through the rearview mirror. "He'll love them."

You parked the car and led Seok-min by the hand, both of you walking toward the entrance of the hospital. His excitement was contagious, and despite the sadness that always accompanied visits to the hospital, you couldn’t help but smile at the way he proudly clutched his gift.

Inside the hospital, the air was sterile and quiet, the fluorescent lights overhead humming gently as you made your way to Seo-Wan’s room. You knocked gently on the door before stepping inside, finding Seo-Wan sitting up in bed, his eyes wide as he stared at the window. His face brightened when he saw you and Seok-min enter, though there was something distant in his gaze, as if he were seeing something beyond the present moment.

"Y/N!" Seo-Wan’s voice rang out with excitement, though it was laced with a sense of confusion. "The dragon slayer! I’ve been waiting for you. I just defeated a fire-breathing dragon in the mountains!"

You exchanged a quick glance with Seok-min, whose eyes were already sparkling at the mention of dragons. "That sounds amazing, Seo-Wan," you said gently, not wanting to disrupt his world, even if it wasn't rooted in reality. "We brought you something."

Seok-min stepped forward, holding out his bag with both hands. "I brought you a dragon plushie!" he declared with pride. "And a dragon coloring book, and some flowers!"

Seo-Wan looked at Seok-min with a mixture of admiration and awe. "A dragon plushie?!" He laughed in delight, clearly thrilled. "Perfect for my next dragon-slaying adventure! And flowers! How kind of you, little knight."

Seok-min's face lit up, a wide smile spreading across his face as he placed the gifts carefully on the bed. "I like dragons too," he said innocently, "I want to be a dragon slayer like you!"

Seo-Wan nodded enthusiastically. "You’ll be the best dragon slayer, little knight! Together, we’ll take down the most fearsome dragons in the kingdom. But first, let’s color these dragons. They’ll be our allies." He picked up the coloring book with a childlike grin and began flipping through the pages.

You sat beside Seo-Wan on the bed, your heart aching at how deeply he believed in his fantasy world. The doctors had explained that his mind was caught in a space between delusion and reality, and while part of you wished you could bring him back to the present, you knew this was where he felt most at peace. For now, this was his safe place, and you wouldn’t take that from him.

As Seo-Wan and Seok-min started to color the dragons together, you watched them with a bittersweet smile. Seok-min’s small hand clutched the crayons eagerly, his focus entirely on the dragons he was drawing with Seo-Wan. There was a sense of joy in the room, despite the circumstances—two souls lost in their own ways, finding comfort in each other’s company.

"Seo-Wan," you said quietly after a while, your voice soft. "How are you feeling today?"

He paused mid-color, as if the question had just registered in his mind. He looked at you, then back at Seok-min, and for a moment, his expression was serious. "I think I’m ready to fight the next dragon, Y/N," he said with quiet determination. "But first, I need to make sure my little knight is safe. You can count on me."

Seok-min looked up from his coloring and beamed. "I’ll protect you too, Seo-Wan! We’ll be the best team!"

Your heart swelled with love for both of them. It was a difficult situation, but in moments like these, you could almost forget about the pain of reality. For a brief moment, Seo-Wan was simply Seo-Wan—someone who cared deeply for you and Seok-min, someone who believed in something bigger than himself, even if that world was filled with dragons and fantastical adventures.

"Thank you, Seo-Wan," you said, your voice shaky with emotion. "For being so kind to Seok-min."

Seo-Wan smiled, though it was soft and far away. "Anything for my brave knights." He looked at Seok-min with pride, as if they were both part of the same grand quest, battling dragons in a world where anything was possible.

You sat there, in the warmth of the moment, knowing that while the road ahead would be challenging, there would always be moments like this—small pockets of peace that you could treasure for as long as they lasted.

Namjoon

Sure! Here’s a cozy, heartwarming scenario with Namjoon, the reader, and little Jang-mi. Enjoy!

A Cozy Day at the Cafe

The soft hum of the quiet, dimly lit café surrounded you, creating the perfect atmosphere for a peaceful morning out. The occasional clink of coffee cups and the gentle murmur of the barista behind the counter filled the air. Namjoon had just wrapped his arm around your waist, giving you a tender smile as you looked at him.

"Is this better?" he asked, his voice deep and soothing. His smile was warm, genuine. He was still adjusting to the new relationship—nervous, but also incredibly happy to be with you.

You smiled up at him, holding onto your own cup of tea. "Yes. It feels nice to be able to relax. Just the three of us."

It was still so new, and yet, there was already a sense of home when he was around. You had been a little hesitant about introducing him to Jang-mi, your two-year-old daughter, but Namjoon had been nothing short of patient and understanding. This morning felt like the first real day for the three of you to be out, and it felt special. The cafe had been privately rented out to avoid the paparazzi, offering you all a safe space to just enjoy the day without the prying eyes of the public.

Jang-mi, sitting on her booster seat next to Namjoon, was happily sipping on her tiny cup of hot cocoa, the whipped cream on top making it a perfect treat for her. But before you could blink, she started giggling, her face scrunching up in delight as she accidentally knocked over her cocoa, sending a flood of the chocolatey drink right onto her cheeks.

"No!" you gasped, immediately grabbing a napkin and wiping her face. "Oh, Jang-mi..."

Namjoon, who had been watching in mild surprise, quickly reached for another napkin. "Guess she’s just as messy as me," he teased lightly, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

Jang-mi, completely unfazed, giggled and wiped her face with her hands, smearing the cocoa all over. "Cocoa!" she exclaimed, completely innocent and content, her little cheeks smeared with chocolate.

You and Namjoon shared a look, both of you trying to stifle your laughter at the sight. "It’s okay, baby," you said, brushing a bit of hair from Jang-mi’s face. "We’ll get you cleaned up."

Namjoon gently scooped her into his arms, his strong hands careful as he wiped her down. "Well, I guess I should take the blame for this," he said with a playful wink at you. "I did say we were going to have a fun day."

"You’re her new fun guy now, aren't you?" you teased, gently taking the napkins from him.

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, his face lighting up with a smile. "Fun guy?" He grinned mischievously. "I'm thinking more along the lines of 'awesome' not just fun."

Jang-mi squirmed a little in his arms, then pointed at her now mostly-empty cocoa cup. "More!"

You chuckled, nodding. "I think she’s asking for another round, Namjoon."

"Coming right up!" he said, laughing, and stood to fetch another cocoa for the little one. You watched him go, feeling a warmth in your heart. This felt right. He was here, and he was present, not just with you but with your daughter too.

Jang-mi bounced in her seat, reaching for you. "Mama," she said with a grin, her face still dotted with little cocoa smudges.

"Yes, sweetie?" you replied, reaching down to hold her hand.

"I like him," she said, beaming.

You felt your heart swell. "I’m glad, sweetheart. I like him too."

Namjoon returned moments later with a fresh cup of hot cocoa for Jang-mi, who practically squealed in delight. As you all sat back down, enjoying your own drinks and chatting, the world outside felt distant and irrelevant. There was just this cozy bubble of happiness between the three of you—laughter, love, and cocoa-covered cheeks. You were finally starting to build something beautiful together.

The warmth of the moment was interrupted only by a small giggle from Jang-mi as she tried to drink her cocoa with a big spoon instead of the usual cup. The sight made you laugh so hard you nearly spilled your tea.

"Okay, maybe next time I’ll teach her how to drink from a cup," Namjoon said, glancing over at you, his face full of amusement.

You reached over to pat his hand, smiling. "No need, she’s learning just fine."

And just like that, with cocoa-streaked faces and giggles echoing around the café, you realized that despite the chaos of life, you were exactly where you were meant to be.

I hope that captures the warmth and fun of the scene! Let me know if you'd like any changes or additions.

Yoongi

Yoongi was sitting in his studio, headphones on, focused on the music. His phone buzzed once, then again. He raised an eyebrow, glancing at the screen. A new message from Y/N?

He tapped on the notification and smiled when he saw her name pop up. His heart skipped a beat. It had only been a short time since they started dating, but already, Yoongi felt so comfortable around her. And the fact that she had a little boy—Chang-min—just made it even better. He was cute, playful, and loved getting attention from him.

Yoongi opened the message to read it. Except, it wasn’t from Y/N. It was... random. Very random.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “sdgasadfhjjlkjdsfhjkdghj…”

Yoongi blinked at the string of letters, utterly confused. Was she sending him a cryptic message or was this some sort of inside joke? He chuckled softly, shaking his head.

He typed back with a raised eyebrow.

Yoongi: “Uh… is this some sort of secret code?”

The response came back quickly, this time with even more nonsensical characters.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “sdasfgnfjgbs… jnkjkjknn…”

Yoongi laughed this time, realizing what was happening. He leaned back in his chair, grinning. Of course. Chang-min must’ve grabbed Y/N’s phone while she was in the shower. The kid was always curious, always exploring. Yoongi knew the little guy wasn’t old enough to read or write, but clearly, he knew how to type a few random letters.

Yoongi: “Chang-min, are you sending me messages? Do you even know what you’re typing?”

He waited for a reply, still chuckling at the thought of the toddler sending gibberish to him. Moments later, the phone buzzed again.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “fghjjddfbbggfgv!”

Yoongi could hardly contain his laughter at this point. He decided to play along.

Yoongi: “Is this your way of telling me you’re hungry? Should I bring you snacks?”

The phone buzzed again, and this time, Chang-min’s "message" was even more chaotic.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “fjkhfgdhjfhfhk!!!”

Yoongi nearly snorted into his phone. This kid was too much. He could already picture Chang-min sitting there, giggling to himself, tapping the screen without any clue of what he was doing.

Yoongi: “Are you trying to make me laugh, Chang-min? Because it’s working.”

He set his phone down for a moment, shaking his head, a soft smile on his lips. Y/N would probably have a few choice words when she found out what her son had done. Still, Yoongi couldn’t help but love how sweet and innocent their relationship was becoming.

A few moments passed before another text popped up.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “bbbvvbbbkjjjj!!!”

This one was a lot of b’s and v’s, but it was the final word that caught his attention.

Yoongi: “Chang-min, what is this? Is it a message for me?”

The reply came almost instantly.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “yoongi!!!”

Yoongi’s smile widened, his heart warming at the thought that even in his toddler-like text form, Chang-min was reaching out to him. He didn’t expect anything serious or coherent, but it was adorable and meaningful in its own way.

Yoongi: “Aww, I see you, little guy. I think I might be falling for you, too.”

He chuckled to himself as he sat back in his chair. There was no need to rush things with Y/N and Chang-min. They were taking things slow, but this—this was a nice little moment he could cherish.

Soon enough, Y/N would come out of the shower, and Chang-min would hand her the phone, probably giggling about how much fun he had with Yoongi. But for now, Yoongi was content, knowing that even in the silliest of moments, they were becoming a family.

Just then, the phone buzzed one last time.

Text from: Y/N’s Phone “yoongi!!! bbbbbbbbbbvvv!!”

Yoongi smiled, shaking his head.

Yoongi: “I’ll take that as a ‘good night,’ Chang-min. I’ll see you soon.”

A few minutes later, Y/N stepped out of the shower, wrapping herself in a towel, looking at Yoongi’s message. Her eyes widened, and she laughed softly. “Chang-min…”

He looked up, innocent as ever, trying to hide the phone behind his back. Yoongi's heart swelled. This was the beginning of something beautiful.

JHope

Hoseok stood next to you, taking in the vibrant colors and intricate details of the art on the walls of the museum. You’d been so excited to finally plan this outing—something fun for all of you. But there was one little detail that kept stealing the attention in the room: So-mang.

Your two-year-old son had boundless energy, and a natural curiosity that seemed to make every corner of the museum irresistible. He tugged on your hand, then Hoseok’s, and squealed as he pointed at various exhibits.

"Eomma!! Look!" So-mang exclaimed, his eyes wide with wonder as he darted toward a sculpture.

"Careful, baby," you called, your voice laced with a mix of affection and concern as So-mang’s tiny hands reached out to touch the cold marble.

Hoseok, who had been trying to subtly keep an eye on the little one while also admiring the artwork, chuckled softly to himself. It was clear So-mang’s enthusiasm was a force of nature.

“Hey, So-mang,” Hoseok said, his tone soft but steady. He knelt down to the boy’s level, his bright eyes full of warmth and patience. The boy stopped and looked up at him curiously, his little fingers still twitching toward the sculpture.

“So-mang,” Hoseok began gently, placing a hand on the boy’s shoulder to steady him. “I know everything here is super cool, but you know what?” He paused for a moment, watching So-mang’s eyes grow even wider, waiting for the next part. “These things are really special, and we have to keep them safe by not touching them.”

So-mang frowned, looking at Hoseok’s hand on his shoulder before glancing back at the sculpture, then back to Hoseok. “Why?”

Hoseok’s smile widened as he leaned in just a little closer, lowering himself to the boy’s level. “Well, see, if we touch things here, they might break, and that wouldn’t be good. We want to keep them looking perfect, right?”

So-mang thought about it for a second. His bottom lip stuck out in a tiny pout, but his gaze softened. "Okay," he said with a resigned sigh, the two-year-old logic settling in.

Hoseok gently took his hand in his own, his fingers carefully wrapping around So-mang’s tiny palm. "Good job, So-mang. You’re doing great. Let's go look at the next one, okay?"

You watched from the side, your heart swelling with affection for Hoseok’s gentle approach with your son. His patience was already one of the many reasons you’d fallen for him. Hoseok was a natural when it came to interacting with So-mang, and you could see how much your little one adored him.

As the two of them walked on, So-mang’s hand tucked safely in Hoseok’s, you couldn’t help but smile. Hoseok was so caring, so kind—he already felt like part of the family.

"So-mang," Hoseok called over his shoulder with a playful grin, "How about we find something cool that we can touch?"

So-mang’s eyes lit up, and just like that, the moment of frustration had passed. The museum may have been filled with untouchable wonders, but with Hoseok by your side, the whole world felt like it was just within reach.

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