rosella007rh

[zeroclockk]

—⋆˙⟡ Guilty

——— ⋆˙⟡

Jungkook barely spends any time with you lately, but tonight is dinner night. I put all the effort into making his dinner, only to end up on the sofa watching TV.

Pair: jjk x fem reader, idol, absent boyfriend, fluff

Word count: 1,4k || oneshot

Nini’s library

——————————————————————₊˚⊹♡

He’s always busy, so damn busy. Sometimes he doesn’t even bother coming back to the apartment, figures it’s too late and just heads to his own place. He doesn’t want to be so busy, he doesn’t want to keep me a secret. but he has to…

Tonight, he promised me, though. Tonight we’d have dinner. So, it’s ready; his favorite pizza. The table is set, a candle lit. I put everything into this, trying my absolute best.

I made the pizza from scratch. the dough, the sauce, everything. It took me all day, but I wanted to do something special. I haven’t seen him in two weeks, and it feels like ages. All I want is a romantic night with him. I even cut the pepperonis into little hearts and set it on the table with a bottle of wine.

I dressed for the occasion, too. hair and makeup neatly done, a white fitted dress with lace and spaghetti straps. Paired with white socks, hidden beneath. Jazz music playing softly in the background, it’s all perfect.

I’d thought about baking cookies too, but that seemed like a little too much. So instead, I bought sweet corn ice cream, knowing he’d like it just as much.

He was supposed to be here by 6:30, but I figured with traffic he might be a little late. But eventually, the clock strikes 8 p.m. Can being an hour and a half late still be justified?

I take the bottle of red wine —along with a glass— and move to the couch, nearly downing the whole bottle while watching some random TV show. I don’t even notice when I drift off to sleep, half-drunken from all the wine.

I don’t notice it when he finally unlocks the front door, sighing as he stands in the doorway. He looks over, seeing me sprawled on the sofa, cheek resting on my arm. The bottle of wine sits on the coffee table, the empty glass still loosely tangled between my fingers.

The food remains untouched on the table, and the candle has burned itself out. He feels so guilty.

He walks over to the couch and crouches down in front of me, gently taking the wine glass from my fingers and placing it beside the nearly empty bottle.

“Hi, baby,” he says, tucking a strand of my hair behind my ear.

My eyes flutter open slowly.

“Jungkook? W-what time is it?”

He lets out another sigh. “It’s… it’s 1:20 a.m.”

I sit up, knees to his chest, head down, trying my best not to tear up.

“You’re late.” I avoid his face, not wanting to look at him and feel sadder.

“I know, I’m sorry, baby. I’m so sorry,” he says, stroking my hair, his voice low and apologetic.

“You were with Jimin, weren’t you?”

“What? How’d you know?”

“C’mon, Koo… I can smell the whiskey on you.”

I stand up from the sofa and walk to the kitchen table, slowly putting the unused dishes back in the cabinets.

He follows behind me, keeping just a little distance.

“You made this?” he asks, looking at the pizza on the table.

I rest my hands on the counter and sigh. “Yeah… I, uhm, I spent all day making the dough and the sauce, and I—” My voice trails off, tears filling my eyes.

He steps behind me, gently pulling my arm and wrapping me in his. He kisses the top of my head, whispering apologies.

“I’m so sorry, baby…”

I can’t hold back my tears any longer and start sobbing softly into his chest.

“I miss you. I miss my boyfriend.”

Even though he knows it’s his fault, his heart aches with guilt. He just holds me, letting me cry out my frustrations.

“How can I make it up to you, baby?”

“I just want a boyfriend who’s here. Someone who can hold me at night, who I can have dinner with, who makes me feel loved.”

I still don’t look at his face, I know my heart would forgive him for anything if I did.

“I shouldn’t have gone with Jimin, baby. I’m so sorry. I don’t know why I chose to go,” he says.

“It’s not just this, Koo. I haven’t seen you in two weeks, and on the night we planned a date, you just didn’t show up.” I pause, still not looking at him.

“I feel silly. I made you dinner, put on this silly outfit, and…” My sentence breaks into a sob, trying my best to keep it together.

“You look gorgeous, baby. It’s not silly. I’m an idiot for not showing up. I’ll never do it again. I’ll never be late again, I promise.”

“I love you…” I whisper against his chest. I’ve never said that to him before, and it hurts to admit it now.

He lifts my chin, and for the first time tonight, my eyes meet his. His big, brown, boba eyes staring back at me.

“You really mean that?”

I bury my head back into his chest, sobbing.

“I love you too, baby, so much.”

It hurts to hear, but I also feel a sense relief. How can you love someone and treat them like this?

“I want to feel like you do. I want to feel like I’m your number one.”

He cups my cheek, gently lifting my face to his.

“Baby, I’ll make that happen. I’m going to make you feel like the most spoiled girlfriend alive. There won’t be a moment in your day when you don’t know how much I’m obsessed with you. I’ll treat you the way I should’ve all along.”

I roll my eyes, a faint smile tugging at my lips. “Gosh, I hate you.”

He chuckles, giving me a soft kiss, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away. I melt into the kiss. I know I’m a fool for choosing him again and again, but maybe this time he’ll really change. He’s never made such a promise and not done it, besides not showing up. My heart wouldn’t survive moving on from him, and I think he knows that, too.

“C’mon,” he says, guiding me to a chair at the table. He reheats the pizza in the microwave and lights a new candle. The wax from the first one has pooled on the table; he’ll have to clean that up for me.

He places the pizza back on the table and sits across from me, taking a slice.

“It’s delicious, baby. The best pizza I’ve ever had.”

With barely any appetite left, I take a bite. It’s good, I guess. I’m not one to compliment my own food, but he’s enjoying it, and that’s all that matters to me.

His hair is fluffy, and he’s dressed comfortably in a black shirt and jeans. My eyes are stuck on him, unable to focus on anything else, he looks so beautiful. It’s hard to believe he’s my boyfriend, sometimes it feels like he’s really not.

“I’ll talk to the agency tomorrow.” He then says.

“Huh? What?” I snap out of my thoughts.

“I’ll talk to the agency tomorrow,” he repeats. I don’t understand why, and he seems to catch onto my confusion.

“I can see it on your face… You want people to know, right?”

“You mean going public?” It’s what I’ve dreamt of, but I never thought he’d take it seriously. Some other idols date publicly, but I never thought he’d be one of those.

“Yeah. I mean, it has to happen sometime, right? I don’t think people would like it if I suddenly showed up married one day.”

“Married?!”

“What? You’re not dating me for that?”

I’m a stuttering mess, honestly. As a hopeless romantic, of course I dream of marriage. But right now, I don’t know what to say—it’s all happening too fast.

“I love you, baby, more than anything. I can’t picture my future without you. I’ll talk to the agency tomorrow about going public, slowly.”

He walks over to my side of the table, with half of the pizza left. He leans over, kissing me gently on the forehead.

“You look gorgeous, baby. I’m sorry I ruined tonight,” he whispers, pulling me for another kiss.

I don’t know what I’d do without him.

[outeremissary]

I love it so much when a creature of untouchable ideals gets turned into a Real Person against their will and isn't sure that they want to be one... that's what it's all about!!

[mildmayfoxe]

also btw my roommate did her tofu experiment today in making butter tofu which LOOKED delicious but eventually she came out of her room and was like "turns out i hate tofu so i ordered myself a hamburger" and i was like 😵💀😔. if she's not gonna eat the rest of that butter tofu in the pan she better give that to ME!!

[guhhhhhhhhhhh]

Just spent the last 12 hours rewatching the terror (only stopping to sleep) and uhh. My brain feels rotted. So many little love stories in that tragedy. !!

[pickleslice]

im genuinely incapable of creating. i've never added anything new to the world i dont have the juice

[bi-writes]

I imagine that Johnny's "uncle" instincts are so strong that he would do anything for the MOB and Simon's kids, it doesn't matter that "the kids" are cats. Also i think Simon would have a talk with MOB (and Soap) along the lines "if something happens to me he is the person who would take care of you". ~ i spend to much time daydreaming about this fic

mail-order bride

johnny watches with a careful eye as simon disassembles his rifle. he's methodical about it, very careful. he has a clear desk in front of him, and every piece that comes out has a place on the surface, a special spot that it must go.

"ye called fer me, LT?" johnny asks, knocking on the door gently. simon nods, not looking up from where he's sitting. he motions to the chair in front of the desk, and johnny takes a seat, hooking his thumbs into his tact vest and spreading his legs as he sits there. "what do ye need?"

"'ave somethin' ta say," simon mutters. "'n i'm gonna say it, and y'r gonna keep quiet and not interrupt me. and when i finish, ya aren't gonna say anythin' about it. and we aren't gonna talk about it ever again. say ya understand me, sergeant."

johnny swallows, shuffling in his seat before nodding.

"aye," he says lowly. "roger tha'."

simon sniffs, picking up the barrel and using a microfiber cloth to rub it clean. he leans back in his chair, not meeting johnny's eyes.

"tha' last op got me thinkin'," simon mutters. "thinkin' a lot." he sighs, deep from his chest. "wot would happen to my girls. if somethin' were to happen to me."

johnny purses his lips, his palms getting a little clammy. but he doesn't speak, because he's been ordered not to.

"and if tha' happens," simon continues. "i don't want anyone else lookin' after them except for you, johnny."

their eyes meet finally, and johnny swallows hard. it's a long gaze, and they hold each other there for a few moments to get an understanding of one another, to speak without speaking.

johnny stands, shaking his head. it's hard for him to believe that simon could die. he's unkillable. he's ghost. he's a man too capable of staying alive, too good at crawling out of early graves, that he doesn't understand truly what it is he's seeing in his lieutenant right now.

the thing in his eyes, he's just never seen it before. it's fear.

"simon."

your greeting as he steps through the front door immediately makes his shoulders relax. you're in the living room in nothing but one of his old shirts, standing there with a big smile on your face. his eyes rake down your body, over your bare legs and socked feet. your smile is bright and contagious, and he drops his bag off as you come closer to him. as always, your hands find the hem of his skull mask and slip it up and over your head, and you giggle when he blushes as you look over his face.

"you're so handsome," you whisper, and he clicks his tongue, shaking his head. you lean up on your toes and kiss him warmly, smoothing your hands up his big arms and wrapping them around his neck. simon can't help himself; he slides his hands down your back and slips them up the hem of the shirt you wear, cupping your ass in both gloved hands and squeezing hard. you laugh into the kiss, pulling away slowly, meeting his eyes. he looks tired. he looks...sad. "simon...is everything okay?"

you swipe your thumbs under his eyes, smudging the eye-black there, and he just shrugs. he doesn't lie. it isn't okay, he isn't okay, and you kiss him again to say you're sorry, because you don't know if he would want to hear that.

"i, uhm...ordered a pizza," you say softly. "thought we could watch a really bad movie and eat gross."

simon smirks, leaning his forehead against yours.

"i'd like tha'."

as you're plating up greasy slices of pizza, simon passes a piece of paper to you. it's an index card with a phone number on it and an address. the address is far, really far, and you lick the sauce off your finger before looking up at him.

"what is this?" you ask, taking it from him.

"tha's johnny," simon murmurs. "if anythin' ever happens...if ya ever need me...'n i'm not 'ere--" you open your mouth to say something, but simon shushes you gently. "--if somethin' ever happens to me...you call johnny."

you purse your lips, meeting his eyes for just a second before looking back down at the card.

"nothing's gonna happen to you, simon--"

he cups your face in his hands, shaking his head. he's staring down at you, pleading, asking you to just do this for him, to just say yes, to not fight him on this one thing because he needs this.

you press the index card to your chest gently, nodding finally.

"yeah...okay..." you whisper. "i'll call him, simon. if something happens...i'll call him."

if something happens, if something happens, if something happens--

"simon," you whisper, grabbing his eyes again. he blinks, and you compose yourself when you see that glaze over his eyes, the slight shake of his bottom lip. you have never seen him this way. you have never seen him shake ever before. this was your husband. simon riley, made of nothing but dense rock and steel. but his thoughts are far away. his thoughts are somewhere else, seeing a scenario in his mind that you imagine may not be hard to think about, as if he's lived something like it himself.

the unknown. the despair. the aftermath.

the inevitable.

"simon."

your voice brings him back. he's back in the kitchen. he's back at home. he can hear the cats in the living room, the little bells on their collars ringing as they chase each other in little chaotic circles.

he's back with you. in his little bubble. he's praying to a god he doesn't believe in that it won't burst so easily.

"dont worry, simon. i'll...i promise i'll call."

[seiwas]

₊˚⊹｡ see me through the morning glow | gojo satoru

wc: 1.0k summary: you and gojo have a slow morning.  contains: f!reader in mind, suggestive if you squint, food descriptions. a/n: unedited, i honestly dk what this is i just really needed to get this out of my system! this is how i cope with 236.

re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!

You slip out of bed faced with the promise of sunlight. 

The curtains in your bedroom radiate a glow that bounces off the man lying next to you; it’s soft, near-white, almost ethereal, the color of his skin, hair, and bones. His back is exposed, arm reaching out over the (now) empty space beside him—the crinkles and folds where you once were. 

You’ve always thought your bedroom had good lighting, and now you can confirm why: in the shadows, deepening the line that runs down his spine; in the highlights, guiding your eyes to the pockets of muscle behind his shoulders. 

You look away, trying your best not to stare; the only reason he’s undressed is because of a cold sweat, from the nightmares—and the very need for skin-to-skin, to ground him in your touch. 

On mornings like this, you let Gojo sleep in. 

(Because you’re lucky if he can fall back asleep again). 

It’s slow today—no work, no missions that need you or him. It’s your favorite kind of day, and Gojo’s too (once he wakes up and smells the waffles you’ve prepared, double topped with whipped cream and maple syrup—his special, of course). 

A steady stream of warmth flows through the window to your kitchen countertop, the marble glimmering as light hits. The material was his choice; you don’t care much for glamor but Gojo likes pretty things—you especially, he likes to say. 

The batter is quick to prepare, a recipe you’ve done many times before, so you ladle it into the waffle maker before letting it set on its own. Then, you grab a pan to heat up, spooning in last night’s leftover rice, some soy sauce, and mirin, adding salt to taste, as needed. A standard fried rice breakfast, with a yolk to mix in later. 

The sound of his footsteps are concealed by the sizzles of the pan in front of you, but you’re caught off guard by arms wrapped around your waist, and his chin nestling itself into your shoulder as he nuzzles you. 

He’s still shirtless, you notice, so you inch backwards in case of any oil spatter. 

“Good sleep?” you mumble, certain that he heard you. 

He hums, before whispering, lips tickling the edges of your ear on purpose, pouting, “Not anymore when you left.” 

This man—a giant baby, puffed cheeks with long limbs hunched over you. 

Your big baby. 

Despite his whines, he’s telling the truth, you know, and you feel warm because of it, affection seeping in the cracks between his arms and the kitchen stove. 

You blow on a spoonful of rice before lifting it up to his lips. Gojo’s breakfasts are always sweet, but every time you cook, he looks forward to this: waiting right behind you to be fed over your shoulder.

His review will always be the same, of course, everything you touch turns out good. 

He reaches for the waffle maker with one hand while the other keeps you close, and you plate his little breakfast for him, whipped cream with little hearts drawn in maple syrup. 

You grab a bowl for your rice and sit by the counter, Gojo sitting thigh-to-thigh beside you despite the abundance of space around you. 

You realize then, that Gojo tends to hover. 

Not necessarily in a bad way, just that, he does it all the time—always wanting to be near.  

And for someone so perceiving, practically all-seeing, he doesn’t really have to for him to know what you’re up to, but with every opportunity he has, he never misses a moment to be close to you.

When you wash the dishes by the sink, he stays beside you, shoulder-to-shoulder, even when the sink is wide enough to accommodate him a few inches farther. 

Even the walk to the bathroom has him tailing you, following your footsteps as he traces the footprints of slow mornings with you. 

Your bathroom counter has two sinks, but of course, today, he chooses to stay by yours. 

“Skincare?” you raise a tub of face mask. 

He doesn’t need it, but you love pampering him, so he nods, whatever you want. 

You struggle for a bit (he’s just too tall), so he picks you up by the waist and rests you on the bathroom counter, against the mirror.

He stays in the space between your legs, hands flat against your thighs. His thumb kneads your skin gently, and any other time, this position would end very differently, but there’s a look he’s giving you—all words without speaking. 

And—

“Quit staring,” you mumble, turning shy. You’re about to rub the product onto his cheeks, under his eyes. 

“What, I can’t look at you?” he moves closer, keeping his eyes locked on you as he rubs circles on your thighs. 

“No, you can, but,” you swallow, “you’re looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” his brows furrow. 

“Like that.” you sigh, gesturing to his face. 

“Like I love you?” 

And it is like that. Like he loves you. That’s why he says it so casually. 

Because he does. 

You stay quiet, stunned, before you clear your throat and finish up the final area on his face. 

“Yeah.” you mumble, reaching over to wash your hands on the sink. 

Gojo waits for you to finish before he takes a small towel to dry your hands with it. 

“As if you don’t know.” he scoffs, pulling you closer to the edge of the counter. 

He’s right—it’s been said before, but there’s something else in his eyes right now, shiny and devoted, as if this is all he could ever want. As if you, on this slow morning, in this too-big bathroom is all he could ever need. 

But he doesn’t say anything. At least, not what he really means. 

“Not my fault you’re so pretty today,” he adds on, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

It should be funny, that he’s telling you all this with a mask slathered all over his face, but his compliments always speak to the depths of you, even when you don’t expect them to. 

His fingers mold against your cheek, to your ears, down to the back of your head, bringing you closer until he kisses you softly, a gentle peck. 

Bits of the face mask transfer to your nose and you giggle, wiping it off. 

“Beauty is in the eye of the beholder, they say.” you joke.

Gojo smiles, that look on his face, “Good for you then, you’re the only one I see.”

re-uploaded because i accidentally deleted!

comments, tags, and reblogs are greatly appreciated ♡

[lev1hei1chou]

Cravings

Gojo x reader Genre: Fluff Words: 474 Synopsis: Gojo rates your pregnancy cravings Masterlist

Gojo Satoru, the man who claims to have seen everything, was about to embark on the most mysterious and thrilling adventure of his life: experiencing his partner's pregnancy cravings. As he sat beside you, observing your every move with amusement in his eyes, he couldn't help but wonder what odd concoction you would come up with next.

"Darling, I'm hungry," you declared, your eyes gleaming with excitement as you waddled into the kitchen, your baby bump leading the way.

Gojo raised an eyebrow, his interest piqued. "What's on the menu today, my dear?"

You grinned mischievously. "Prepare yourself, because this one's a doozy." With a flourish, you presented your creation: pickles dipped in chocolate syrup, sprinkled with crushed potato chips.

Gojo's eyes widened in disbelief, but being the supportive partner he was, he decided to give it a try. Gingerly picking up one of the peculiar snacks, he took a bite, his expression morphing into one of surprise.

"Hmm," he mused, chewing thoughtfully. "Interesting combination. The sweet and salty flavors complement each other surprisingly well. I'd give it a solid 7 out of 10."

You laughed, delighted by his willingness to indulge in your cravings. "Not bad, but I think we can do better."

And so, the culinary adventure continued, with Gojo eagerly tasting each strange concoction you concocted. From ice cream topped with hot sauce to peanut butter and pickle sandwiches, no craving was too bizarre for the two of you to tackle together.

As the days passed and your due date drew nearer, Gojo found himself looking forward to your cravings with a mix of anticipation and amusement. He never knew what strange combination you would come up with next, but he was always ready to dive in headfirst and give it a try.

One evening, as you sat together on the couch, Gojo felt a sudden pang of hunger. "I think it's my turn to come up with a craving," he declared, eyes twinkling.

You raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Alright, Satoru, hit me with your best shot."

With a flourish, Gojo disappeared into the kitchen, leaving you in suspense. After a few moments, he returned, carrying a plate piled high with… ramen noodles topped with whipped cream and gummy bears.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight. "Baby, what on earth is that?"

He grinned, setting the plate down in front of you. "I call it… the Gojo Special. Trust me, it's delicious."

With a mixture of trepidation and curiosity, you took a bite, expecting the worst. To your surprise, the combination of savory noodles, sweet whipped cream, and chewy gummy bears was strangely satisfying.

"Well, I'll be damned," you exclaimed, taking another bite. "This is actually pretty good!"

Gojo beamed with pride, his eyes sparkling with delight. "See? I told you I had a knack for this."

[harrysfolklore]

jacob elordi and yn make valentine's dinner | vogue

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

"Hi Vogue, It's Jacob," he greeted the camera, he was wearing a simple white t-shirt and jeans but looked absolutely dreamy, "And today I'm cooking a special Valentine's dinner for my girlfriend YN."

You smiled at him from the side of your kitchen, ready for him to introduce you.

"She's actually here to help me," that was your cue to walk into the frame, he pulled you by the waist and you grabbed the side of his face gently and pecked his lips, "She cannot cook to save her life," he spoke to the camera again, "So my role in the relationship is basically to be her personal chef."

"Okay, cut the sass," you chimed in, "Let's do it, what are we making today?"

"We're making a heart shaped pizza, since It's Valentine's day, then we're making espresso martinis, and a chocolate lava cake to top it off."

"Sounds delicious," you said, "Perks of having Jacob Elordi as your boyfriend, he grabs the stuff from the top shelves for you and he cooks a full course meal."

Jacob winked at you and then to the camera, then the crew stepped in to give you everything you needed for your dish.

"Right so we're gonna start off by making the pizza dough," Jacob began, "We need flour, oil, water, sugar, salt and instant yeast."

"And of course, a good looking sous chef," you teased, batting your eyelashes at the camera.

"That you are," Jacob pecked your cheek, "Now, sous chef, we need two cups,"

"Of this?" you pointed to the flour bowl.

"Yes," he put the ingredient on the mixer, "Two teaspoons of sugar,"

"I'll do that one," you grabbed the small bowl that contained what you thought was the sugar, and Jacob abruptly stopped you.

"No, love, that's the salt."

"Well dammit," you quickly put the bowl down, "Can we cut that part?" you told the crew and they laughed, Jacob just pinched your side affectionately.

"Let me add the ingredients into the mixer and you can help me pour the water, okay?"

Jacob put everything that was needed on the mixer and you slowly poured the water as the machine started working.

"So this is starting to come together now," Jacob spoke to the camera, "Just need it to turn up the heat a little bit," he said playfully and winked at the camera.

"You did not just say that."

"I did just say that," he winked at you now, "Now help me put the oil on."

You did as he said, pouring the oil on the mixture and then covering it with plastic foil.

"We need to put it in the fridge for two hours so it can rise,"

"I feel like Martha Stewart," you put a hand on your hip, "This is like, my dream."

The video showed a time lapse indicating that two hours had passed and it was time to get the dough out of the fridge.

"So Jacob is getting the dough out of the fridge," you explained to the camera, "And we're going to make two separate pizzas to see which one turns out the best."

"Are we actually gonna cut the heart?" Jacob approached you with the bowl, "But it looks so pretty, love."

"Sorry, I'm going to break your heart today on Valentine's day."

"Jesus," Jacob's eyes widened, "So this has been chilling for two hours, and now we have to make it look like a heart.

"Okay, move aside," you moved Jacob's hand away from the dough and he laughed, "This would be easier with a rolling pin but okay."

"So to do the heart shape we need scissors," he sad after carefully folding the dough in half, "Try it, love."

"Like you do with a card, right?" Jacob gave you a confused look, "A Valentine's day card."

"Just don't cut the whole pizza in half," you rolled your eyes at him, "I'm not judging your cooking abilities, love. Just guiding you through the process."

"Just go get the ceramic pizza stone and let's get this in the oven."

"We need to put on the ingredients first, don't we?" Jacob raised his eyebrows

"Oh you're right," you grabbed a bowl with tomato sauce, "So I'm going to cover the whole thing, just leaving space for the crust," you poured the sauce with a spoon, "Am I overdoing this?" you asked your boyfriend.

"No, you like it, like a lot of tomato, don't you?", you nodded, "Just spread it out a little bit," you did as he said, "It's perfect babe, well done."

"We're diving this," you signaled with your hands, "This is your territory and this is mine.

"Okay but let's not cut it, because then that's like cutting the heart and that's sad."

The crew asked you to describe a romantic moment as you decorated your pizza, and Jacob was the first one to speak.

"She is really romantic," he said as he peeled an onion, "The other day when we got back from New York she planted this cute, like herb garden outside on our patio and we had a picnic there, it was lovely."

"One of the most romantic things Jacob has ever done for me was when he surprised me with a spontaneous road trip to a secluded cabin in the mountains," you added, sprinkling shredded mozzarella cheese on your side of the pizza. "He had everything planned out, a cozy fireplace, a bottle of wine, and a clear view of the starlit sky. It was incredibly romantic."

"Yeah, that was a special trip," Jacob smiled at you, his eyes soft at the memory, as he arranged slices of pepperoni on his half of the pizza, "She was freezing so we cuddled a lot, that was nice."

You finished up your pizza and Jacob carefully placed it on the heated oven, then the crew got everything ready to star with your dessert.

"Alright, so we're making the chocolate lava cake," Jacob clasped his hands together, "Do you think you can do it, babe?

"Let's do it!"

You and Jacob followed the recipe for the cake, you helped him pour the eggs and mix the ingredients together, earning compliments from him about your cooking skills improving.

"So now, these," Jacob grabbed the tray with the two small chocolate cakes, "Which YN just poured very perfectly, are going in the oven for about 12 minutes at 450.

You closed the oven and the final thing to prepare for your menu was your drinks, the espresso martini.

"So we're going to make the espresso martini, the virgin espresso martini," Jacob said to the camera, "Because this one is on a non alcohol diet."

"You gotta keep the system healthy!"

Jacob poured all the ingredients into the drink mixer and moved it up and down, his biceps twitching at the movement.

"I'm impressed," you said as he poured down the drink in your glasses, "That was sexy, baby."

"Thanks, glad to know," Jacob winked at you, "Cheers," he handed your glass, you clicked it with his and sipped at the drink, "This is pretty good, let's take it to the table."

You moved to the table, where you pizza and cakes were perfectly placed along with some lit up candles and flowers for decoration.

"This looks amazing," you said as you looked at the food in front of you.

"Looks nice, doesn't it?" Jacob took the seat in front of you, "My side of the pizza looks nicer."

"No," you said with a serious tome but then your eyes softened, "Happy Valentine's day, baby."

"Happy Valentine's day," he smiled fondly at you, "You happy? You like this?"

"Yeah, I love it," you squeezed your hand quickly, "Can we start eating?"

You ate your dinner, bantering about which side of the pizza was better and which one of you had been the better chef, even though there were cameras and crew around, it felt like an intimate moment between the two of you.

"Here, try the dessert," Jacob said once you were done with your pizza, spoon feeding you a bite, "It's good, isn't it?"

"So good, I'm such a chocolate lover," you said, "I feel like I was great help to you in the kitchen, what do you say?"

"Really good help," he took a spoonful of the cake, "Best looking osus chef ever."

"Thank you, I really appreciate that," you squeezed his hand again, "I really tried for you today."

"Yeah, cause usually I make her a drink and she just watches me cook," he told the camera, "She's obsessed with me, can't take her eyes off."

"Cheers babe, I love you," you ignored his comment and raised your drink, "happy Valentine's day,

"Happy Valentine's day,"

"I'm going for it," you said as you rose from your seat, "Why do I always am eager to be the kisser?"

"She just wants to kiss me so bad," he stood from his seat and placed a kiss to your lips, "Love you."

[neferaskingdom]

♡ Serving Up Some Chemistry | OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x Youtuber!Reader [Face Claim: None]

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Summary: A quirky YouTube host invites rising stars Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri for a BBQ episode in honor of the Austin GP. Amidst hilarious banter and messy sauce spills, she and Oscar discover an unexpectedly adorable connection.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

check out my other works: Masterlist

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Surprise! 🚨 In honour of the Austin GP, we’ve got a special episode coming your way featuring none other than Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri! 🤠🍖

We’ll be trying some Texas BBQ and answering your questions—so drop them below! 👇 Let’s see if Oscar can handle the heat and if Lando can manage not to spill sauce on everything. 😆

Comments:

landonorris:

Can’t wait! Hoping I won’t embarrass myself too much. 😅

oscarpiastri:

Super excited for this! BBQ and questions? Sounds like a great time!

user1:

This is going to be epic! Can’t wait to see Lando and Oscar together!

user2:

OMG, the BBQ challenge is going to be hilarious! 😂

user3:

I’m ready for all the chaos that’s about to unfold!

user4:

Y/N, you’re going to have the best time! Can’t wait for this episode!

user5:

Excited to see how Oscar handles the heat! He better be ready!

user6:

Lando’s going to spill sauce everywhere, I can feel it! 😂

user7:

This is the best surprise ever! Bring on the BBQ!

user8:

The chemistry is going to be so fun to watch!

user9:

I just know this is going to be a classic episode!

Instagram Post by yourusername:

The episode is finally OUT! 🎉 Had the best time with landonorris and oscarpiastri—thank you both for being such great sports and handling the BBQ challenge like pros! 🤠🍖

Hope you all enjoy watching it as much as we enjoyed making it! Check it out on the channel now. 🙌

Comments:

oscarpiastri:

Had a great time! Thanks for having us, I’ll definitely be ready for round two. Maybe with less BBQ sauce next time? 😅

landonorris:

It was a blast! I’m still recovering from the sauce overload, but we’ll be back for sure! I’ll even bring an extra shirt 😂

user10:

They need to come back! That was the best thing I’ve ever watched!

user11:

The way Oscar was smiling the whole time—he’s definitely down for round two!

user12:

Lando being the messiest eater while Oscar just tries to survive? ICONIC.

user13:

The episode was pure gold! You three had the best energy!

user14:

Lando’s laugh is contagious! I was cracking up the whole time! 😂

user15:

Oscar was a whole mood trying to keep it together while eating BBQ! I need more of this trio ASAP!

user16:

The chaos, the laughs, the flirting—it was EVERYTHING! 😍

user17:

OMG, Oscar looked like he was about to faint when he first saw yourusername! He was so smitten. 😍

user18:

I can’t with how Oscar turned bright red when yourusername wiped the BBQ sauce off his chin! That was the cutest moment ever! 

user19:

Lando’s commentary had me in stitches! “Oscar, try not to drown in her eyes while you eat!” 😂

user20:

Their chemistry was insane! Every awkward pause just made it more adorable. I can't stop replaying it in my head!

user21:

“Can I get a little help with this sauce?” — Oscar was serving vulnerable and I am HERE for it! So smooth, Oscar! 😏

user22:

Lando saying, “Don’t get lost in her eyes while you’re eating, or I’ll have to save you,” was the best! He’s such a mess! 😂

user23:

The way Oscar shyly laughed at yourusername’s comments made my heart do flips! Can they just date already?

user24:

Their little glances and smiles were everything! I felt like I was watching a cute love story unfold right in front of me!

user25:

When yourusername asked, “Do you usually bring this much heat to a BBQ?” I was like, “Okay, that was smooth!” Oscar was totally flustered!

user26:

Honestly, the way they interacted was pure magic. They could literally sell me anything with that energy!

user27:

Lando is just a whole mood, trying to get Oscar to spill his secrets while keeping it light and funny! This was chaotic perfection!

user28:

I’m still thinking about how cute they were. Oscar’s shy reactions paired with yourusername’s playful teasing were too much to handle!

user29:

This episode was everything! I can’t stop thinking about how sweet their interactions were. I need more!

user30:

Their little glances and soft smiles were everything. Oscar’s flustered reactions were so endearing. ❤️

user31:

I can’t believe how much fun that was to watch! Lando being a mess and Oscar being adorable? What a combo!

user32:

I need behind-the-scenes footage ASAP! Their interactions were too cute to miss!

user33:

This episode was a masterpiece. Their dynamic felt so genuine. I need more content of Oscar and yourusername together!

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Race day vibes! 🏎️💨 Thrilled to be at the Austin Grand Prix and feel the energy in the air! Can’t wait to see Lando and Oscar out on the track today! Let’s go, papaya boys! 🍊🏁

Comments:

landonorris:

Let’s go! Can’t wait to see you there! 🏁

oscarpiastri:

Excited to have you cheering us on! Let’s make it a day to remember! 😄

user34:

Okay, but wearing his number and posing in his car? Is this a thing now?

user35:

I’m not saying you’re dating, but I’m not NOT saying it either! The signs are all there!

user36:

She’s literally living the dream! Can we talk about how adorable they’d be together?

user37:

Her rocking the 81 cap is giving major “I’m totally rooting for my crush” energy!

user38:

They better have some cute moments on the track today! I need content!

user39:

If she doesn’t end up dating Oscar after this, I’m going to be seriously disappointed. 😩

user40:

I see the chemistry, and I’m here for it! Can we get some couple content, please?

user41:

I bet Oscar’s heart is racing just as fast as the cars right now!

user42:

Can we please get some updates on this? I’m invested!

user43:

If they don’t end up together after this GP, I’m throwing a fit! The chemistry is undeniable!

user44:

I’m shipping them so hard right now! Someone make it happen!

user45:

All I’m saying is if I was in her position, I’d definitely be flirting with Oscar!

user46:

Wait, is she wearing Oscar’s number? 🤔👀 Something’s brewing here!

user4:

If they don’t end up together after this, I’m throwing hands! They’re practically destined to be!

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Nothing going on, just a shit ton of editing! 🎬✨ Can’t wait for you all to see the latest episode—it’s a tell-all with some juicy insights you won’t want to miss! Stay tuned! 🙌

Comments:

landonorris:

Oscar’s been whining about the new episode for days now. 😂 You’d think it’s his favorite show!

 ↪oscarpiastri:

I wasn’t whining! I was… politely asking. 😅

 ↪yourusername:

Oh really? I had no idea you were such a fan. I’ll try to make this episode extra special for you. 😉

 ↪oscarpiastri:

I already know it’ll be perfect, especially with your editing skills. 😄

 ↪charles_leclerc:

Oscar, you seem a little too excited about this episode. 😏

 ↪georgerussell63:

He's definitely excited. I’ve never seen someone so eager for an episode! 😂

user48:

Their banter is so cute! I can’t get over how sweet they are! 🥹💕

user49:

Oscar acting all shy is everything! They definitely have something special!

user50:

The way Y/n teases him? Major couple vibes! 😍

user51:

Lando just casually exposing Oscar's crush on Y/n is iconic!

user52:

I’m here for all the fluffy interactions! They need to get together already!

user53:

I can’t be the only one who sees the heart eyes Oscar has for her, right?

user54:

Oscar trying to play it cool but failing is the cutest thing ever!

user55:

The way Oscar and Y/n interact is giving me life! They are too cute! 😍

user56:

Oscar whining for the episode?? Yeah, they’re definitely crushing on each other.

user57:

The subtle flirting though?? I am obsessed. 🥺

user58:

They’re adorable! This is what I live for! Oscar is so soft when it comes to her! 💖

user59:

If they’re not dating after this, I’m going to be devastated. The chemistry is unreal!

user60:

Oscar’s got heart eyes for her, 100%! I’m here for the rom-com energy! 🍿

Instagram Post by oscarpiastri:

Not exactly the result we wanted today, but the team worked hard and I’m proud of the effort we put in. We’ll come back stronger next race. 💪 Thanks for all the support as always! Onwards and upwards. ✌️

Comments:

user61:

Oscar really thought he could sneak in that last photo like we wouldn’t notice… boy, we SEE you! 👀

user62:

Hold up. That last picture. Who’s holding your hand, sir? We need answers. 😳

user63:

Forget the race, who’s the mystery girl?! Man’s out here soft-launching a whole relationship!

user64:

Oscar: “We’ll get 'em next race!”

Also Oscar: casually holding hands with someone and trying to act like it’s no big deal. 🧐

user65:

You really thought we wouldn’t zoom in on that third photo? The fandom is about to explode!

user66:

Me pretending to care about race results while I’m over here like 👁️👄👁️ over that hand-holding pic.

user67:

Okay, but real talk… is that Y/n? Because I’m about to lose it if it is!

user68:

Oscar: "Tough race."

Everyone: "YEAH BUT WHO’S THE GIRL?"

user69:

Man, not you sneaking in a whole mystery date at the end. My detective skills are about to activate. 🔍

user70:

Is this Oscar’s way of lowkey announcing a relationship, or are we all collectively losing our minds?

user71:

Bro, you can’t just drop this and walk away like we’re not going to dissect every pixel of that picture. 😂

user72:

If that’s Y/n holding his hand, I’m officially shipping this HARD. 😍

user73:

Is that… Y/n?? Did Oscar just soft launch a relationship?? 😳

user74:

Me: focusing on the race results

Also me: WHO is he holding hands with?!

user75:

Nah, Oscar, you can't just sneak in a soft launch and think we wouldn’t notice! 😭

user76:

This race was cool and all, but let’s focus on what really matters. Oscar’s got a GIRL?!

user77:

Whoever is holding Oscar's hand, I hope she knows how lucky she is. But also... IS IT Y/N?! 🥺

Instagram Post by formula1gossip:

Spotted in the paddock! 👀 Looks like Oscar Piastri and YouTuber/host yourusername are more than just friends—caught sharing a kiss! 💋 Could this be the F1 romance we didn’t see coming? Fans, what are your thoughts? Is this the grid's new power couple? 🔥

Comments:

user78:

OH MY GOD I WASN’T READY FOR THIS TODAY!! 😱😍

user79:

STOP. OSCAR AND Y/N ARE ACTUALLY A THING?!? THIS IS NOT A DRILL!! 🚨🚨🚨

user80:

I knew it! I KNEW IT. The way he’s been looking at her in every interview was a dead giveaway. 🥲

user81:

This is so cute but also low-key creepy? Like, let them have their privacy. 😬

user82:

Nah, this was not on my 2024 F1 Bingo card but I’m HERE for it!! Oscar really said, “plot twist.” 🥵

user83:

Forget the race drama, THIS is what we’re all here for. 😂

user84:

I don’t know if I should be happy for them or freak out that the internet is creeping on their private moment. 😳

user85:

Okay but... am I the only one who feels kinda bad for them? Let them live! 😕

user86:

Man really went from “awkwardly flirting” to “straight-up kissing in the paddock.” Piastri’s got game! 💀

user87:

I need to know WHO took this picture because they deserve a raise for breaking the internet. 😭

user88:

Wait, Oscar really went from sneaky hand-holding to THIS?! Boy moves fast! 🤯

user89:

Okay, but if this is real, Oscar and Y/n are the cutest thing to happen to F1 since... well, ever. 😍

user90:

I’m dying at the fact that Oscar was so shy and now he’s out here making public moves. My heart can’t take it!! 🥺

user91:

This is cute and all, but also kinda invasive? Give them some space, people! 😕

user92:

How do I go from “aww, so cute” to “this is kind of a privacy issue” in one second? 😅

user93:

The way Oscar went from 0 to 100 real quick. Y/n must’ve unlocked his final form or something. 😏

user94:

Did we just collectively witness a romcom happening in real life? Oscar and Y/n, you have my full support. 🙌

user95:

Half of me is SCREAMING, and the other half is like, "y’all, this is kinda creepy… let them live in peace!”

Instagram Post by yourusername:

Well... cat’s officially out of the bag. 🐱💫

Comments:

landonorris:

FINALLY!! I’ve been keeping this secret for so long, I deserve an award for acting like it’s not disgustingly adorable every single day. 😩

 ↪yourusername:

Aww, poor Lando. We’ll get you a medal. Maybe one for “Best Third Wheel” too? 🥇😏

 ↪oscarpiastri:

Best third wheel and also the loudest complainer. You’ll be fine, mate. 😂

 ↪landonorris:

I WILL NEVER BE FINE. 😤

user96:

WAIT. DID HE JUST GIVE HER A FOREHEAD KISS?! I’m dead. 🥲

user97:

Oscar, can you fight?! Because Y/n is everyone’s crush now and you’ve got competition, buddy! 😤

user98:

Oscar is living the romcom life we all deserve. We need a movie adaptation of this STAT. 🎬

user99:

This was not on my 2024 bingo card but I’m HERE FOR IT. Y’all are too cute!! 🥹

user100:

Okay but… where’s the wedding invite? I need to start shopping. 💀

user101:

Oscar, how does it feel being THE luckiest guy in the paddock? 🧐 Asking for a friend.

user102:

Not gonna lie, I’m obsessed with this. Y’all are literally relationship goals. 🥰

user103:

Oscar out here being all shy and adorable while soft-launching the cutest relationship of the year. We’re NOT worthy. 😩

user104:

I swear if Oscar ever messes this up, the entire fandom is ready to throw hands. WE GOT YOU, Y/N! 👊

user105:

They’re that couple. You know, the ones who are so cute you can’t even be mad about it. 💕

user106:

If this was a movie, the soundtrack would just be us screaming "I ship it" on repeat. 🎶

user107:

Lando’s the third wheel and we love it.

user108:

Oscar and Y/n hard-launching their love while Lando cries in the background... the content we never knew we needed. 😭💀

oscarpiastri:

Couldn’t be happier to share this with you. 💛

 ↪yourusername:

Same. I love you, Oscar. 💫

 ↪oscarpiastri:

I love you too, always. 💛

 ↪user109:

Did they just say “I love you” in the comments?!? I’m unwell, this is TOO CUTE. 😭💖

 ↪user110:

Oscar dropping “I love you” casually like we’re not all DYING right now. 💀

 ↪user111:

Every time I see them interact, I lose more faith in my ability to ever find love this cute. 😩

 ↪user112:

Oscar and Y/n: existing

Us: screaming, sobbing, throwing up, planning the wedding. 🥳

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[love44lew]

what turns them on/off

彡drivers lewis hamilton, max verstappen, charles leclerc, sebastian vettel, jenson button

彡genre hcs/scenarios

彡summary what gets their wheels spinning and what makes ‘em dnf ★

彡notes i apologize for the wait my loves i didn’t want any of these to feel rushed </3 thank you for 100 followers ❤️❤️

彡warnings sexual content

————-꧁🪼🦈🐋🐬🦭꧂-————

lewis

pleasuring you lewis loves to satisfy the people he loves. getting them gifts, compliments, paying the bill for any meal, you name it. as long as his special ones are happy, hes happy. so in bed you can expect those same things to apply. he gets pleasure from pleasuring you, he loves it. he enjoys seeing you trembling, blushing and fucked out more than his own pleasure. thats why his favorite thing to do is eat you out. and by life itself, this man can EAT!! its almost like your pussy put a spell on him he gets so lost in the sauce. you physically have to push him off to make him stop and by that time your legs are already shaking. he really touches the ocean floor if you know what i mean!! and the d is fire!! and it will put you to sleep. lewis loves being your personal melatonin.

meaningless sex when lewis was single and needed some pleasure every once in a while, he would just go on raya or hit up one of the six trillion girls who wanted him. he wasn’t satisfied with living that way. lewis is a lover not a player. he’s been through a lot of stuff to make him this way and he learned this the hard way through his late twenties and early thirties. born to be a lover, forced to be a hoe !! fortunately though, he met you and looking back on it, he’s realized how much he hated the shallowness of it all. lewis craves for deep meaningful connections and just having sex with random women didn’t fill that hole in his heart. he had to relearn the true meaning of sex and how magical and special such an experience can be. you helped him rediscover this important aspect of his life and it feels great. being with you has definitely taught him quality over quantity.

max

loss of senses max needs to see you, so darkness is a no no. plus, more unnecessary risk of hurting yourselves. he loves the sound of your voice, weather its your moaning and whining as he works your body in every way you enjoy or its just you rambling about your day while running your soft fingers through his thin silky hair. max needs the stimulation of sight and sound to get himself going. “let me hear you” he’ll whisper into your ear

this may be why he loves his mirrors !! the only solution to this issue is to just fuck u in front of a mirror. most men love to do that for their own pleasure but the only thing max is looking at while fucking you in front of a mirror is the way your face twitches, contorts, and relaxes with every thrust. the way your doe eyes roll back and cross, further showing to him how good he fucks you. he picks you up by your neck forcing you to straighten your back as he whispers sweet praise into your ear. “you look so pretty like this baby” “you want me to keep doing that gorgeous?” “uhuh im fucking you good baby” your legs twitch every time his sweet voice sings into your ear telling you everything you need to hear.

charles

charles loves to see you in lace, latex, and silk. the way the latex hugs your figure so beautifully makes you almost look naked. weather its black, beige, white, or print he loves when you look all sexy just for him. silk is almost like maternal for him. as much as he loves to see your curves he also loves the look of ‘sheets after sex’ the open back with the jewelry and the flowy trim, he loves it. it simply just makes him want to imagine you bloated with your shared creation but still keeping your elegance and beauty along with it. the look of silk makes your skin glow like the sun and you simply look like a greek goddess in his eyes. the beautiful custom embroidery that revolves around your every curve when you wear lace is unmatched. he loves that it shows just enough that he can imagine what hes already seen but also covers enough that others cant. the sexy elegant vibe of lace changes your aura enough to make him want to eat you out through your thin panties. your beautiful skin covered by a thin soft custom embroidery made just for him makes his mind go wild.

waiting charles is very impatient when it comes to his pleasure. weather its the pleasure of winning or reaching tip of his climax so good that he’ll just want to fall asleep after, he’ll work hard to make sure he gets there, for you too. sure, he can do foreplay but only for a certain amount of time until he begins to bore. ‘lets get to the good stuff already’ ((sass)) charles is a gentleman, so he will make sure you finish before him. plus, he has amazing stamina, so don’t feel rushed to reach your climax, he can wait for that. sometimes he’ll slow down just to watch you overstimulate for a little bit longer, just until you start fussing before going rough and slow, just how u like it. “whats wrong mon cœr? don’t you like it slow?” “ahh you want it harder.. yeah, just like that.”

sebastian

cuddling (smirk) the bed creaks as seb adjusts himself to face your back swinging an arm over your waist and the other snaked around your neck. “good morning, der liebling” he greeted in his raspy low morning tone, planting soft kisses on your cheek and shoulder. you turned your head to catch his lips. “good morning sunshine” you teased his nickname. he rolled his eyes, a smirk tugging his lips. he kissed your nose before diving back onto your lips, his hand now squeezing and caressing your waist and hip. you scooted back, carefully grinding your rear on his front. his hand stuck on your hip while his other now holding your neck. you continued grinding your ass back on him. little moans and purrs escaping between kisses.

full attention its important that you fully engage with seb while having relations. if you seem at all uninterested in what you’re doing he simply wont have the means to do anything anymore. its important to always make sure you’re not holding back when it comes to him. he loves when your hands are anywhere they can find groping or caressing his skin as hes burried deep in your core. he needs to feel extra wanted every time. “touch me” he whispers into your ear as he slowly inserts himself. the extra sensory makes him go wild as he resists cumming after just a couple strokes. your nails lightly scratching circles into his scalp as he’s pressing your knees into the cushion below. even when hes fucking you from behind you always reach a hand over to run down his chest and abs and make eye contact as you match his thrust rhythm.

(i might add jenson in the future but im trying to get this out for you guys asap!!)

—-

dm for tags!! plz request more ideas ❤️

[octoberautumnbox]

The Sultry and Pervy Soda in Apartment 307

tripleS Seo Dahyun & Male Reader (ft. Kep1er Seo Youngeun)

Categories/warnings: smut, voyeur, masturbation, buncha others maybe idk I forgor

Word count: 6.1k

a/n: thanks to @thewritingrowlet for beta, to @sinswithpleasure for making me get off my ass to write this, and to @midnightdancingsol for the more-than-welcome poking me with a stick y'all r awesome :DDDD

Street lamps flickered to life as the sun shone a golden hue across the sky. The festivities were just about ending and people were exchanging goodbyes and good nights, clearing out slowly – one by one, then pairs, then swathes of people vacating the increasingly empty street. It was a grand stroke of luck for you to move into the neighborhood right before the street fair, and the moving guys didn't mind too much about the tricky navigation and maneuvering once their plates piled high with biryani chicken and jasmine rice. 

After helping stack up the chairs and fold up the tarps, and of course waving at the other volunteers, you spot a girl struggling with a particularly tall tower of dirty paper plates. You rush over to her to lend a hand, but unfortunately for the both of you, the tower topples over and a splattering of soy sauce covers her shirt. 

“Ah, Dahyun-unnie’s gonna kill me…” she whines, and you rush for as many clean tissues still on the tables that haven’t been cleared up. 

“You okay? Anything hurt?” you hand the tissues to her and start picking up the plates, in two piles this time. A cursory glance to her and you find a volunteer’s nametag on her upper left.

“Fine, thanks,” she says as she wipes as much of the liquid off of her clothes as she can, “but if you don’t mind, I need to get changed or else I’ll never get this stain out.”

“No worries, Youngeun. Just get your stuff sorted and I’ll finish up here.”

She smiles and bows just as you get up from the ground, and she rushes off without much more fuss. You drop off the trash in the proper bin, dust off your hands, and after the organizer’s reassurance that they can handle everything else, you head on off to your own apartment. 

~~~

Your door clicks shut behind you, and you not-so-gracefully crash into your bed. After the week you've had and the stress from the move, it just feels right to bury your face in your hands and groan in exhaustion. Once you let out a particularly satisfying sigh of fatigue, you let your arms fall to your sides, spread-eagle on the mattress, and drum your fingers into the soft cushioning.

You stare at the ceiling, making vain attempts to distract yourself by thinking random thoughts: “Should I get ice cream tonight?” “How long has the window been open?” “Is the ceiling cream or beige?” “Why does jacking off feel good?” “What's Wooyeon been up to lately?”

The last one does give you an idea, and you reach for your phone to check. Their comeback is just recently out, and you have to say, in one particular fancam she looks a bit too good to not stare. The way her outfit hugs her body, accentuates her curves, shows off just the right amount of skin…

The video plays on, and you casually strip yourself of your pants and underwear. Sitting up properly, you intently watch Wooyeon's performance, paying close attention to her creamy-looking thighs, her cute, glazeable tummy, and her pretty, ruinable smile. In no time at all, you're rubbing your cock to her performance, as if she's dancing just for you. Every wink she does sends another spark of lust through your system, each jiggle of her thighs another wish that you were in between them and eating her out. You keep a steady pace as you jack off to the woman on screen, lazily moving yet dead set on blowing your load to her.

The song draws to a close, the confetti flies, and Wooyeon strikes her ending pose. You admire her body one last time, paying special attention to her cute chest. She bends forward ever so slightly, the perfect tease, before she flashes a show-stopping smile as the camera zooms in on her face. 

You reach your limit, and in no time at all you're shooting your cum into your hand. You had the sense to prepare a roll of tissue paper in your room just for moments like this, and it's not like you'd be admonished even if you weren't living alone. Catching your breath, you reach for the tissues on the desk and clean yourself up. 

A breeze wanders into the room, and you look up to find its source: the open window. Mentally curse yourself, not to let this sort of thing happen again and embarrass yourself. As you make to close it, you find, just across from your own window, another open one that frames someone else. The girl standing in her own room in the building next door has her eyes fixed determinedly on you, her head tilted, her lower lip caught between her teeth just a little bit, and a mysterious smile on the corners of her mouth. 

Immediately you feel heat rise up to your cheeks, and you're sure you've just turned a bright red. The girl's eyes wander up to meet yours, and the smile on her face vanishes. Her expression quickly turns into shock, then she shuts her eyes hard before pulling her curtains closed. Remembering you're in the same situation, you pull yours closed as well. 

If anyone was going to admonish you for anything, it would be yourself, for letting this happen to yourself – What a fucking idiot.

~~~

You rise groggily, rolling off of your mattress like a dolt, but you’re at least able to catch yourself before you hit the cold ground. The heat got to you, and the floor seems a much better alternative than your bed at this point. 

Righting your posture and laying your head on the tiles though, you decide this is no way to spend the night no matter how cold they are. Stumble around in the dark for a bit, deciding that it isn't worth the effort to turn on the light, and just resolve to navigate around your new bedroom in an unfamiliar apartment before dawn. Good start to a new life, you joke to yourself.

“Ah, fucking shit,” you grunt in defeat, before getting up and making for your window again. You slowly pull apart the curtains, the rings clacking against the bar much too noisily for whatever time it is now, and open the window to finally let in a cool night breeze. 

The air fills your lungs and nips against the skin of your back, forcing momentary goosebumps before it all settles down and your body relaxes. You head back to bed, considering maybe the blanket you brought down on the floor with you can stay there, when your attention is snatched by a strange noise.

Your eyes drift around the room lazily, but you can't find anything out of the ordinary. Just then, you hear a faint yet distinct set of words in a singsong voice from somewhere just out of sight: “Mmm, fuck yes, daddy…”

It jolts you awake, and the thought hits you. It's dangerous and embarrassing and not at all okay, but you have to know. Just a peek.

You freeze at the window, with nowhere else to look but right at her. “Yeah, it's good, shit…” she moans, seated precariously on her gaming chair, her legs apart and on the armrests on either side of her. She covers her eyes with her hand as her tongue goes crazy, dragging around her lips whenever she's not breathing heavily or saying whatever.

Her other hand works diligently at pumping a dildo into her glistening pussy, intermittently chanting “Just like that…” it seems whenever she hits a particularly good spot and her back arches forward off of the chair. 

Her breath hitches and her back arches just a tiny smidge as she comes to her high. “Mmm… mmmmfuucckkkk– fuck, fuck, yes, hngg~!” Just then her body seizes, her hips jerk slightly, and she pushes her dildo as far in as she can take. She pulls it out recklessly and it's followed by a quick stream of her squirt, then a cream flowing from the freshly fucked hole collecting on the seat of her chair. 

She lays for a moment just like that, out of breath and seemingly satisfied. She licks her lips a couple more times, savoring the feeling of having just came, vying to get her breath under her control once more. Once she's satisfied, she works up the strength in her yet-weak legs to start cleaning herself up: first the tissues for her cunt, then her seat, then she wobbles over to what you assume is a bathroom to wash up.

“... Fuck. Fuck.” You realize you just watched your neighbor pleasure herself, and she has no idea. However, your guilt never surfaces, never forms, having quite enjoyed the show. You can't think of anything else; her cunt is beautiful, slick, creamy, probably sweet to the taste, and if she sounds like that with a dildo, your mind couldn't race fast enough to think of how she'd sound with your cock.

A sharp gasp rips your attention back to the window opposite, and in it you find her wide-eyed and staring right back. Her mouth hangs open and her cheeks shine a bright red, and you feel the responsibility of breaking the stalemate falls on you and you alone. But what the fuck do you say in a situation like this?

You rush for something – anything – to try and salvage the situation, just one thing to say and hopefully be able to face her tomorrow morning like nothing happened. However, your words fail you, and blank after countless blanks are drawn from your head. Panic rises in your chest, your cheeks just as red as hers, and your eye contact with her becomes almost unbearably painful. 

So you break it, albeit accidentally. Your gaze floats down to her flat tummy, admiring how her waist curves like the perfect handles to grab onto while you pull her onto your cock. Even lower still, and you find her exposed pussy, clean shaven and silky smooth to the eye, and for just a moment lewd thoughts intrude your mind once again: the images of her taking her dildo flash before your eyes, leading you to think that however good she felt would be nothing she’s ever had before if you had a shot with her. Inadvertently you lick your lips at the sight of her sex, and you swallow your spit to try and get yourself under control. 

You finally snap out of it, and you notice her staring back at you with a common intention. She’s biting her lip again, her head tilted ever so slightly to the right, and she grips her lap to give you a better view of her pussy lips. Or, it could just be your imagination that she’s showing herself off to you. You’re pitching a tent in your boxers, “Shit, I’m only in my boxers,” and she watches you like her beautiful round eyes are all yours. You stay there for a moment, basking in the lustfulness of the woman before you, and you can only be sure she’s doing the same. 

Her eyes widen again, a different emotion this time, and she takes a panicked look behind her. A bright light enters her bedroom from somewhere you can't see from her window frame, and she hurriedly pulls the curtains shut. Your show is over now, and you’re left with nothing else to do but shut your own window and relieve yourself with the memory of the pretty girl in the next building, half-naked and checking you out. 

~~~

“This is stupid,” you scold yourself, “what would I even say to her?” The question lingers in front of you as your feet bring you to the building next door. “Hi, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night.” A poorly constructed string of words for sure, but it is what it is. You toss the thought around some more, but before you know it, you're face to face with the door to the apartment of the girl who you, for lack of a better term, watched cum last night. 

Two quick raps on the wood, right next to the plate inscribed with “Seo Residence,” and you close your eyes. “I'm sorry I watched you cum last night, I'm sorry I watched you cum last night,” you repeat silently. Even with your hopeful attempts to make it sound less absurd, you know it's so irredeemably bad that not even the most heart-wrenching apology would make up for it.

“Can I help you?” The sudden voice shocks your eyes open. The moment you're dreading is delayed for a few more minutes, as the girl that greets you at the door is not the girl from last night. 

“Hi, Youngeun, I'm from, um, the next building,” you stutter out, “I need to talk to, uhh…” and it occurs to you that you don't even know her name. You stare at each other for a good few seconds, when it finally ends with her connecting the dots. 

“Ah, you're here for Unnie,” she concludes. “Dahyun-unnie, the guy from the street fair is here to talk to you.”

“Who?” 

~~~

“There’s no point in pretending. I know you saw me, and I’m okay with it– I liked it, even. Now, you either come clean and tell me what you saw, or I go around and tell people how you perved on the poor girl who accidentally left her window open on a hot night.”

You gripped at her bedsheets, your fingers just as tense as the breath caught in your throat. It was a good threat, you had to admit, and if only you weren’t on the receiving end, you’d even applaud her. Instead, she stood over you with debilitating authority and a venomous tone. Her smirk did you no favors, highlighting her alluring features, including her gaze as sharp as the edges of a ripped up tin can. She had you.

“Alright,” you surrender, holding up your palms in defeat, “I admit. All I saw was you on the chair, legs apart, dildo in your pussy. That’s all.” It only comes as an afterthought that you did technically watch her cum, but rocking the boat and adding new information unprompted seems like a dangerous move. Instead, you sit still, breath held, and wait for what she might say next.

“... Okay, I believe you. Your secret is safe today.” Hearing that, you release your breath and replace it with new air. Dahyun backs off and relaxes her arms to her sides, and fails to stifle a giggle at watching you fail to decompress. She saunters back over to her chair, the same one you watched her get off in, and crosses her legs. 

Her thighs peek out from under her skirt, forcefully drawing your attention, and the pit in your stomach opens again: keep this up and she’ll have another card to play against you. 

You make a feeble attempt to look her in the eye, and it works for a moment. Once you meet her gaze, you find the same mischievous smirk on her lips, still taunting or teasing you or just showcasing her amusement of the situation. The corners of her mouth curl upwards dangerously, and her eyes thin to scrutinize you as you shrink in the face of her earlier threat. 

“Easy now, I said you’re safe today,” Dahyun giggles. She rests her chin on her hand, still decoding your thoughts with much more ease than you’re comfortable with; all she’s doing is looking at you and somehow you’re unraveling in front of her, getting pushed to stranger and stranger thoughts. You try in vain to find something to protect yourself against her latent mind-reading powers, but once again, nothing comes up. Your stuttering fills the silence of the room for no good reason; your handle on the situation shrinking weaker and weaker. 

The only thing that takes up space in your mind is the memory of her smirking at you after her fat pussy lips were pushed apart, taking her sex toy like it was nobody's business, pleasuring herself while being vaguely aware that you were watching. It was a dangerous skill she was using against you, and for all the wrong reasons, it turns you on even more. 

She suddenly rises from her chair, a hand on her hip once more, and you’re forced to give her all your attention again. She flashes an evil smile at you, one that you could never in your current clouded state ever read, and she places a light yet daunting hand on your shoulder. She inches her face closer and closer to yours, and in no time at all, you're out of space for backing away.

“I already told you I wouldn’t snitch. Why are you so nervous? What do I need to say to calm you down?” She finally takes a seat on the bed right next to you, and she less-than-gently shoves you so that you face away from her. Her fingers dance around your shoulders, finding tense spots you didn't even know were tense. 

“Listen,” she whispers nearly right into your ear, “I won't tell anyone, but you have to do better than that. What exactly did you see? And what did it, erm, make you… feel?” Dahyun plants a kiss right on your nape, and then starts massaging your shoulders and back delicately. She lets out another giggle, but different this time: it's less one of manipulation and more of pure amusement. 

The way she squeezes and rubs your muscles weakens your defenses even more. She expertly maneuvers her fingers, picking the flimsy locks of your psyche, toying with you like you're nothing. You're completely in the palm of her hand, and there's no way out but farther into her grasp. 

“I… You're hot, Dahyun, and I wish I could've seen more,” you finally admit, just as your eyes grow weary. The calm colors of her wallpaper and the faint fragrances of her bedroom lull you into a dangerous sense of serenity. “I just thought… how good it would be,” her massage intensifies ever so slightly, coaxing out more of your confession, “to have you bouncing on my cock.”

Seemingly satisfied, the girl kisses you again on the nape, her lips lingering on the skin of your neck, and it sends shivers outwards, down your spine and across your body. Her arms come under yours and wrap around your chest, and her hands fall gently, non-threateningly, to your belt. She finds her way under your shirt, and she feels up your stomach in soft touches, as if luring you into a trap.

“I was thinking the same thing, Oppa,” she sighs, and before you notice, your belt clacks onto the floor and you hear your jeans zip open. “I thought about how a guy like you should never need to jerk himself off, especially when a volunteer is just next door.” Just like that, she's already stripped you of your pants, and you couldn't be more vulnerable. Dahyun makes her way to your ever-hardening cock, and she takes it in her hand. “Perfect… we're gonna have fun, aren't we, Oppa?”

She kneels on the floor in front of you, and she makes a show of licking and kissing all over your cock. Her plump lips meet your shaft again and again with each kiss, and every so often she takes short drags of her tongue on you to get some much-welcome spit on your cock.

“Fuck, Dahyun,” is all you could put together. Dahyun looks nothing like the type of girl that'd do this to some guy she didn't know, and yet here she is, sucking you off like it’s her sole purpose on this Earth. She shoots you a lustful look, and amongst the closing her eyes to savor your dick on her lips and tongue, she shoots you a sexy wink that nearly makes you fall in love. 

In an effort to not blow your load too early, you grab her by the hair, strands tangling around your fingers and trapping you just as well as you’re trapping her. You pull her off your cock with a yank, and the sudden jerk of her head makes her choke on her own spit. She tries admonishing you, but between teary eyes and a momentarily scratchy throat, she can’t say much. 

Use this to your advantage, jump at the opportunity to gain the upper hand. Stand as quick as you can, throw her onto the bed. Amidst everything, she’s unable to react, only fully grasping the situation after her last cough, when she’s laid flat on her mattress with a pillow beneath her head. Huh, who knew you had such good aim.

“Tough guy, huh? Never would’ve guessed; Youngeun sang you praises for being so sweet when she stained her shirt. Or was that your plan all along?” Despite the situation, she doesn’t try to get up or take back control. Instead, she blinks prettily at you, licks her lips, smiles a sultry smile. 

“Accusing me of being a pervert, even though you started it when you watched me jack off first.” Hide the shakiness of your voice, reclaim the breath she so easily stole away. Your hands slide up her legs, from her calves to her things and finally to under her skirt. Find the garter of her underwear, tease her by slipping your fingers under. “Projecting, aren’t we?”

She lifts her hips off the bed to help you strip her, the slow rise of her ass and the clumsy reveal of her pussy lips leading you to believe maybe she’s still the one pulling the strings. Despite all this, your appetite grows as her glistening cunt comes into view, and all you can think to yourself is how much more delicious it looks up close. Ridding her of her underwear, there’s nothing else to do but to dive right in. 

It doesn’t take long, not at all, before Dahyun is squirming against your tongue on her clit. She runs her fingers through your hair, settling on the back of your head. Not long at all, and it’s just a few swipes of your tongue against her sex before she holds you in place with her legs, her thighs you couldn’t get enough of earlier now like clamps preventing your escape. Your hands are firm on her hips, making sure she doesn’t get away either, and your onslaught finally begins.

“Fuck, I knew you’d be good at that–” she sighs, savoring the feeling of finally having another person get her off. She moans her love without shame; an audience through her open window is nothing compared to you right between her legs. A horrid sense of shame comes over her as she watches you watch her squirm and thrash from being eaten out: her face reddens, her lip quivers, her pussy leaks more and more to entice and keep you from leaving her forever. Never mind that she forgets that you need air to breathe; you almost agree that right now Dahyun is the only thing keeping you alive at all.

She’s starting to buck her hips, her thighs nearly crushing your head between them, her back arching to signal her impending release. Any moment now, she'll lose control and her floodgates will open; she'll threaten to drown you with her love, she'll tug at your hair and grind against your face as her orgasm overtakes her. Fight to keep her down, struggle against her thrashing to hold her hips steady. Your determination to receive the reward for all your hard work drives you: relish in the smoothness of her skin under your fingertips, savor the slick that she releases just for you. 

“Mmf, fuck yes, please, oh my god, oh mmm–”

“Hnnggg– Aaahh!” Another voice interrupts Dahyun's, and her attention whips to where it came from. The door swings open behind you, or at least you hear it, as Dahyun squeezes you ever harder right as her climax arrives. 

“Youngeun, what are you– Aaaaahhh!” She explodes right onto your tongue, and for a moment the world fades around you. Her nectar floods your senses with perfection you could never find anywhere else, the hauntingly succulent mix of sweetness and sin drawing out your own moans as she thrashes against her mattress. You force out more of her juices with relentless laps at her sex, while the frenzied pulling at your hair and pushing against your forehead tells you she doesn’t know what she wants past letting out everything she can. 

It takes just a little while longer before she settles, and as she releases you from her legs you get a grasp of what just happened. Youngeun is unsteady at the door, a hand on the frame and the other still in her shorts. The look in her eyes is one of shock and embarrassment like you’ve never seen, and by the way Dahyun stares back, frozen and equally wide-eyed, you gather the situation at the very least isn't what they were expecting either. 

Tension hangs heavy in the air, and neither of them move an inch. You're only still in the middle of recovering from having your breath taken away, but it grows more uncomfortable for you most of all. As far as you're concerned, they're stepsisters, and the younger one who thought you were sweet for helping her in the street fair just watched you eat out her elder sister and got off like some porn video. 

Youngeun is the one to break the ice: “Shit, unnie, I'm sorry, I'll go! Just forget I was here–” before getting cut off herself. “Hey,” Dahyun reigns, “sit.” She motions her sister towards the gaming chair, and Youngeun, judgment clouded with fear, takes sheepish steps to approach it. 

Dahyun pulls you up to her eye level, keeping hands on your cheeks, and meets your lips with hers delicately. “Mmm, bet that was just as good for you, huh?” She runs her tongue over your mouth to lap up her spent essence, and you meet her halfway, deepening the kiss.

Still, the presence recently known is now a presence impossible to ignore. Despite Dahyun’s love spreading from her lips to yours, her heat bringing your temperature up all the same, you can’t help but be wary of the girl on her gaming chair taking after her sister, legs on the armrests and fingers in her dripping cunt. Dahyun tries in vain to pull your attention back to her, only her, and how could you resist either one? 

“Mm, Youngeunie,” she sings, breaking away momentarily, “behind you, on the right, top drawer, it’ll help.” She returns to the kiss as easily as drawing the curtains to show you, while off to the side you hear the shuffling friction of wood against wood as her sister pulls out the drawer.

“Unnie, this is…” she says, but the thought is lost and replaced with a prolonged moan. Dahyun slips her tongue into your mouth, grunting as she feels your cock throb against the lips of her puffy cunt, coating your shaft with her liquid heat and coaxing you into a worsening state of mind. Her pussy quivers against the underside of your cock, chipping away at your common sense, until…

Meet your forehead to hers, make sure she stays how she is. Your left hand wraps around her neck, controlling her air and keeping her still, while your right dips into her sex to draw out her slick for you. Stroke your cock at the evil you’re planning, line up your tip to her entrance, and with absolutely no warning, no mercy, no reprieve, push your head past her welcoming glistening lips and into her tight, loving pussy. 

“Mmmm, fuck, shit, oh– Oh my god, oh my god!!” Dahyun’s pleasure comes in the form of unsteady grunt and weak scratches against the hand on her neck. Her face takes on a light shade of red, her forehead creases, and her tongue is only nearly starting to stick out. Her pussy squeezes around your cock like it never wants to let go, her tightness driving you crazy with how good she feels, that you maybe wouldn’t mind putting a fucking baby in her. 

Your hand leaves her neck and immediately she pulls you down to kiss the bruises you almost left there. Keep pounding into her, feeling her slick all over your cock, throbbing hard and hitting her good spots while sliding in and out of her pussy like it was all yours. 

The moment her fingers relax then tense in your hair, you’re given just enough freedom back to see what’s gotten her so distracted, only to find–

Youngeun slumps further back onto the chair as far as she can without falling off. Her toes curl in the air as she diligently and roughly pumps the dildo in and out of her own cunt. Her top is pulled over above her chest, and she pinches and tweaks her nipples nonstop while cupping and squeezing her tits. “Unnie, unnie, fuck, he’s so hot…” she moans, dead-set on fucking herself with her sister’s dildo to the sight of you railing her beloved unnie. 

“Fuck, Youngeunie, you’re such a pervert for getting off to this…” Dahyun again lifts her back off the mattress, and you know by now what this means. Her grunts turn erratic just as quickly, her pussy clenching tighter around you, practically begging you to stay inside her.

“Hngg, unnie, h-how good is he? I bet he f-feels so big…” “He really fucking is,” she sighs, waiting for the inevitable, slowly letting her sensibilities go. Her lips crash onto yours once more, slipping you her tongue like retaking its rightful place in your mouth. The sight of it causes you to throb inside her again, and amidst the thrusts in and out of her cunt along with Youngeun's own jerking off to your side, you feel your time's drawing to a close. 

Make the most of it, who knows if you'll ever get this chance again. Pull Dahyun up to sit on your lap, force her to bounce on your cock. She follows like a good girl; savoring how you feel inside her, making sure that your cock is snug and comfy between her tight, slick walls. Your hands slide under her top to grope her chest, and she lets out a sultry moan of approval at how you're handling her so well. Her nipples are taut and hard against your fingertips, and the circling around her sensitive mounds only does you favors as she gets wetter and wetter, taking your cock like a champ.

“I can't fucking take it anymore,” she grunts out loud, and in one swift motion her top leaves her body, exposing all of herself to you. Before you could even dive in yourself, she pulls you onto her chest, and as soon as you're able to, you get her nipple in between your teeth. Her boobs bounce against your face as she rides you even harder, desperately chasing her own release, seeming to forget everything and everyone else. 

“Fuck, fuck!” Youngeun switches hands; poor thing must be getting tired. A quick look back over to her and you find the dildo covered with slick and cream, her pussy red and puffy, her nipples sore and just as hard as her unnie's, and her eyes near tears. A quick bout of desire to get off to the sight of her overcomes you, but Dahyun tears your attention back to her, switching to her other nipple, just as she starts grinding against your dick like she found a better spot to hit inside her.

“Unnie, I-I'm close, please, you’re so hhhhot,” the younger begs in reckless need. Her toes curl and uncurl in weary need, tears starting to streak down the sides of her faces, just as her hair sticks to her forehead at the drops of sweat only starting to form enmasse. 

Dahyun pulls you away, back to her, and rests her head on your shoulder, “Oppa, I’m close too,” she says with incessant sighs and gasps, curiously in sync with her bounces on your cock, “i-indulge me, would you?” She looks at you with the same weary love, the same tired, impatient persuasion. 

Steel your resolve in the face of her begging. You’re finally in a winning position, with the pretty neighbor girls in the palm of your hand. A different emotion seeps into your head, one of responsibility: to finish what you started, to make good on your promises, to show both of them a good time. Dahyun’s half-lidded eyes flutter open and shut with every suckle and bite at her breasts, while Youngeun’s thighs jiggle with every forceful jerk of her hips against her toy. They’ve had enough, and you’re reaching your limit too.

“Keep your window open, got it?” A surge of confidence laces your voice at the most unexpected time, and brings out a lustful groan from the girl on your lap. “Yes, oppa, watch me all you l-like…” 

“Good girl. And you,” your attention shoots to Youngeun, who you find has her lower lip between her teeth and nearly drawing blood, “you’re fucked in the head for getting off to this, but I kind of like that.” Upon hearing it, her eyes shut as she pistons her dildo as hard and fast as she can into her pussy, screaming “Fuck, oppa, please! Watch me too!!!”

The perfect opportunity reveals itself, the strings pulled taut against both of your puppets in a cruel dance for your pleasure. A bite on Dahyun’s neck and a mind-numbingly deep thrust into her sex is the last straw to finally send her over the edge as well. 

“Oh shit, oh shit, I’m cumming!!!” A beautiful cry rips across her throat, and her pussy squeezes tight around your throbbing cock. Her juices flow out of her cunt generously, spraying all over your lap and the bedsheets underneath you. She buries her face into your shoulder, her teeth finding and marking flesh where her lips surround. Dahyun constricts around you, her body seizing and gripping onto you tight as her hips jerk with every stream of her girlcum that sprays out her sore cunt. Her fingers dig into your back, in no way hard enough to draw blood but only as hard as to leave marks, while her legs wrap around your waist in dire need to keep you in place and draw as much of her pleasure as she humanly can from you. 

“Hngg, hahh, haaaAAAHHH!” Off to the side, Youngeun’s climax crashes over her as well, causing her toes to curl and her eyes to shut as hard as she can. She twists and turns the toy inside her pussy, hitting her good spot again and again as her cum gushes out of her in messy streams down onto the seat of her chair and floor in front of her. Her eyes roll to the back of her head and her tongue hangs free from her mouth, her ass jiggles with every jerk of her hips forward, and a prolonged and mindless moan snakes its way through her throat like music to you and your partner’s ears. 

After all this, Dahyun’s whimpering finally brings you over the edge too. Her weak cries are the signal of her surrender to you, and what better way to claim her than to give her what she wants? Your grip on her waist tightens, and surely your handprints will stay on her sides for her to admire and recall when she misses you, but for now you keep her still just as she does to you. One last thrust into her is all that’s left, hit her good spot one last time, and it all comes crashing down. You erupt into her pussy, filling her with a burning heat that spreads through her entire fertile body. Each spurt of cum forces another groan of love from her, and she savors the feeling of being filled with your seed like it’s what she was made for. Your forehead meets hers and you capture her lips, and more of her tiny grunts and sighs slip through as your tongues dance around each other.

Once it ends, and you feel your cum stream out of her from the sheer amount alone, you crash sideways onto her pillow with her. She stays wrapped around you, breathing heavy and looking satisfied, just like her stepsister on her chair just a few feet away. Youngeun catches you waving her over, and she takes the spot on the bed opposite her unnie to cuddle up next to you as well. Dahyun snores quietly on your left, while Youngeun snuggles your chest to your right, and with two of your pretty neighbors bare and spent thanks to you, you drift off to sleep with them knowing you’d always enjoy a show the moment you ask. 

[misspygmypie]

Spring Rolls For Lando

Pairing: Lando Norris x reader, Max Fewtrell x reader (besties) Words: 1620 Summary: Y/N’s attempts to make spring rolls for Lando to make him feel better and Max saves the day. Masterlist

Please do not repost, thank you, and leave some feedback :)

Y/N stood in the kitchen, feeling increasingly overwhelmed as the ingredients piled up around her. She had watched countless YouTube videos and read recipe after recipe but nothing had prepared her for the chaos unfolding before her eyes. The rice paper wrappers kept tearing, the vegetables were unevenly chopped and the dipping sauce didn’t taste anything like it was supposed to.

Max Fewtrell was leaning against the counter, watching his and Lando's best friend, trying his best to hide his amusement. "You sure you don’t want to just order these? I can make the call in two seconds."

"No, Max," Y/N replied, her voice wavering as she struggled to keep her composure. "Lando loves these and after the weekend he had I really want to do something special for him. He’s always so supportive of me and I want to be there for him too."

Max noticed the slight tremor in her voice and softened his tone. "I get it, Y/N. But… you look like you’re about to have a meltdown. Are you sure this is worth it?"

Y/N swallowed hard, feeling the pressure building in her chest. "I just… I just want it to be perfect. He deserves something nice after this race I thought this would be easy, but…" Her voice cracked and she blinked rapidly, trying to keep the tears at bay.

Max’s grin faded as he realized how upset she was. He moved closer, gently taking the knife out of her hand before she could accidentally cut herself. “It’s okay. It doesn’t have to be perfect."

Y/N shook her head, her frustration spilling over as tears welled up in her eyes. "But everything is going wrong, Max! The wrappers keep tearing, the sauce tastes awful and I’ve made such a mess. I just wanted to do something nice for him and I’m screwing it all up!"

Max quickly wrapped her in a hug, rubbing her back soothingly. "Shh, it’s okay. You’re doing great, Y/N. You’re trying and that’s what counts. Lando is going to appreciate this no matter what."

Y/N buried her face in his shoulder, trying to calm down. "But what if he hates it? What if it just makes him feel worse?"

"There’s no way he’s going to hate it. He cares about you and he’s going to see how much effort you put into this. Trust me, it’s going to cheer him up."

She sniffled, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "I just don’t want to let him down."

"You won’t," Max assured her. "Besides, if the spring rolls don’t turn out, we’ll just distract him with something else. Like ordering pizza. That always works."

Y/N managed a small laugh, feeling a bit of the tension release. "Thanks, Max. I’m just… I’m so bad at this and I wanted it to be perfect."

Max smiled and gently wiped away a tear that had escaped down her cheek. "Perfection is overrated. And honestly, it’s pretty amazing that you’re doing this at all, considering how much you hate cooking."

Y/N sniffled again, finally allowing herself to smile. "Yeah, I guess I don’t have the best track record in the kitchen, do I?"

"Not exactly," Max teased, "but that’s what makes this so special. You’re doing something outside your comfort zone because you care. And that’s what’s going to mean the most to Lando."

After calming Y/N down Max glanced at the mess on the counter and rolled up his sleeves. "Alright, let’s do this together. We’ll make these spring rolls the best they can be."

"You’re going to help? I thought you were just here to laugh at my misery,” Y/N looked at him, surprised.

"Laughing was fun but seeing you this upset isn’t. Let’s turn this around."

With Max’s help, the kitchen felt a lot less chaotic. He took over the trickier parts, like handling the delicate rice paper wrappers, while Y/N focused on chopping the vegetables, much more evenly this time under Max’s watchful eye. They worked together, laughing as they went and slowly but surely, the spring rolls began to take shape.

"This isn’t so bad when you’ve got someone to help," Y/N admitted as she watched Max expertly roll up another spring roll. "I might actually survive this."

Max grinned. "Teamwork makes the dream work, right? Plus, I’ve made these a few times before, so I’ve got a few tricks up my sleeve."

"Of course you have," Y/N said with a smile, shaking her head in mock exasperation. "Is there anything you haven’t done?"

"Cooking is all about confidence," Max replied, handing her a finished spring roll to place on the plate. "And a little bit of improvisation."

Soon, they had a plate full of neatly rolled and fried spring rolls that looked almost professional. Y/N couldn’t believe it. "We actually did it," she said, a mix of relief and disbelief in her voice. "These look so much better than the ones I tried to make on my own."

Max gave her a playful nudge. "See? Told you it would be fine. And look, no tears and no fires. I’d say that’s a win."

"Thanks, Max. I couldn’t have done this without you."

"Anytime," Max said with a grin. "Now, let’s get this place cleaned up before Lando gets home and thinks we fought a war in here."

They quickly tidied up the kitchen, hiding the evidence of Y/N’s earlier disasters. Just as they finished they heard the front door open. Lando was home.

Y/N exchanged a quick, nervous glance with Max who gave her a reassuring nod. She took a deep breath as Lando walked into the kitchen, looking tired but happy to be home.

The moment Lando saw the plate of spring rolls on the table, his eyes widened in surprise. "You made spring rolls?" he asked, almost shocked. "They look… amazing!"

Y/N blushed, feeling a mix of pride and relief. "Yeah… well, Max helped a lot."

Lando turned to Max, raising an eyebrow. "You helped?"

Max grinned and shrugged nonchalantly. "What can I say? I’m a man of many talents."

Lando shook his head in disbelief, a smile spreading across his face. "I honestly didn’t think you’d be able to pull this off. Not after last time…"

Y/N laughed, feeling the tension finally lift. "Yeah, it was touch-and-go for a while there but Max saved the day."

Lando walked over to the table, picking up one of the spring rolls and examining it with curiosity. "These look perfect. I can’t believe you guys actually did it."

Max leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms with a satisfied smile. "I told you, teamwork makes the dream work."

Lando took a bite of the spring roll, his eyes widening in surprise and delight. "These are really good!" He turned to Y/N, his expression softening. "Thank you, Y/N. This really means a lot."

Y/N smiled, feeling a warmth spread through her chest. "You’ve had a rough race and I know how much you love these."

Lando reached out and pulled her into a hug. "You’re the best, you know that? And Max," he added, glancing over her shoulder at their friend, "you’re alright too."

Max chuckled, waving off the compliment. "I try."

As they sat down at the table Lando couldn’t stop smiling. The spring rolls were more than just food, they were a reminder of how much Y/N cared about him. He picked up another one, savoring the taste, and looked over at her with a softness in his eyes that hadn’t been there earlier.

"You know," Lando said, his voice thick with emotion. "I’ve been feeling pretty low after this weekend and this… this is exactly what I needed."

Y/N smiled, her heart swelling with warmth. "I'm just glad you like them, I was worried they'd turn out horrible."

"They’re perfect," Lando reassured her grabbing her hand, his gaze never leaving hers.

Max, who had been watching the exchange with a smirk, finally chimed in. "You know, Lando, this whole thing was Y/N’s idea from the start. She was determined to make these for you, no matter what. I was just here to stop the kitchen from burning down. She even got a bit emotional when things weren’t going right."

Y/N shot Max a playful glare but Lando’s expression softened even more. "You really did all this… for me?"

Y/N nodded, feeling a bit shy under his intense gaze. "Of course, I did. You mean a lot to me, Lando. I couldn’t just sit back and do nothing after the weekend you had."

Lando let go of her hand, but only so he could pull her into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N. For everything. You always know how to make me feel better, even when I don’t deserve it."

Y/N hugged him back, resting her head on his shoulder. "You always deserve it, Lando."

Max watched them with a grin, leaning back in his chair. "Well, I’d say my work here is done. You two are disgustingly cute, you know that?"

Lando laughed, finally releasing Y/N but keeping one arm around her shoulders. "You’re just jealous, Max."

Max pretended to think about it for a moment before shaking his head. "Nah, I’m just happy I got a free meal out of it."

Y/N rolled her eyes but she couldn’t help laughing along with them. Lando kept sneaking glances at Y/N, his heart full of appreciation for her. He couldn’t believe how lucky he was to have someone who cared about him so deeply, someone who would go through so much effort just to see him smile.

________

AN: Something not Noah/Lando related for once lol I just had to write a little comfort piece, he looked so sad in the cool down room 😥

Taglist: @barcelonaloverf1life

[musaslullaby]

I would marry you

Charles Leclerc x reader x Arthur Leclerc (platonic)

Summary: Yn helps Arthur cook for a dinner with an unexpected guest.

Warning: Just fluff.

Masterlist

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I parked my car in Arthur's driveway, my childhood friend, with a smile on my face. It had almost become a routine for us to spend time together, especially when it involved cooking. Arthur, despite being a disaster in the kitchen, wanted to prove to his friends that he could cook something without burning it all, and I could never say no when he asked for my help.

"Arthur, it’s me!" I called out loudly as I rang the doorbell. I heard his footsteps approaching, and a moment later, the door opened, revealing his smiling face.

"Hey, star!" he greeted me affectionately, wrapping me in a warm hug. I felt the heat of his arms around me as I blushed slightly from embarrassment.

"Please, stop with that nickname," I replied, trying to maintain a firm tone, though I knew the blush on my cheeks gave away my discomfort. He’d been calling me that since I was six years old, a nickname I hated, but despite my protests, Arthur continued to use it.

He burst out laughing, his laughter infectious. "Come on, I know you still have that blue dress with the stars!" he joked, referring to that silly princess dress my dad got me for Christmas. I gave him a playful slap on the chest, trying to pout, but he just smiled at me, and the warmth of his affection reflected in his eyes.

Once inside, we headed straight to the kitchen. Arthur followed me like a puppy, eager to know what we were going to cook. "How about lasagna?" I suggested, starting to lay out the ingredients on the counter.

Arthur’s face lit up. "Can I help? I feel guilty letting you do all the work," he said, using those sweet eyes that I knew he reserved only to convince me. He put on an apron with a panda face drawn on it, and the sight made me burst out in loud laughter.

"Oh my God, where did that come from?" I asked, still laughing as I tried to catch my breath, clutching my stomach that was starting to hurt.

"A relic from my mom," he replied, pretending to pout. "Now stop laughing, seriously, it's not funny," he added, turning around with a mock-offended look. With a smile, without thinking twice, I hugged him from behind.

"Don't be like that," I whispered, trying to hold back tears from laughing. I felt his arms gently tighten around me.

"I’ll forgive you just this once," he said, his tone now lighter and sweeter.

Cooking with Arthur was always a mystical experience, a blend of chaos and affection. Even though he was clumsy, his presence made everything more fun. As we prepared the lasagna, every layer of pasta, sauce, and mozzarella was an opportunity for jokes and laughter. But his clumsiness led him to play a silly prank: he threw a bit of sauce on my nose.

I looked at him in disbelief, my eyes wide open, while he whistled, feigning innocence. "I hate you," I said, rolling my eyes, but the truth was that at that moment, I wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else. I wiped my nose on his apron, provoking a disgusted cry from him.

Our bond was so special, full of little complicities and jokes, an affection that went beyond mere friendship. There was an intimacy between us that few could understand, and it was something I cherished dearly in my heart.

Just as we finished preparing the lasagna, someone knocked on the door. Arthur offered to go open it, leaving me alone in the kitchen with the smell of freshly baked food. When he returned, his face was serene, as if nothing had happened.

"So? Who was it?" I asked, curious. But Arthur, with his usual nonchalance, only replied, "Charles."

That name sent a chill down my spine. A rush of adrenaline surged through my body, and my heart began to race. "Why the hell didn’t you tell me he was coming too?" I blurted out, maybe a bit too loudly. Arthur ran a hand through his hair, clearly embarrassed.

"Look, I forgot, okay?" he muttered, his tone guilty, but I didn’t have time to respond because just then the door to the house opened with a loud click.

"We’ll deal with this later," I hissed, giving him a look that left no doubt about my displeasure. I saw Arthur’s face pale slightly.

"Hey, guys," Charles greeted, walking in with the usual confidence that characterized him. He hugged Arthur with a smile, then turned to me, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. He approached and hugged me, and my heart skipped a beat. That contact, so simple and innocent, ignited a fire of emotions within me that I desperately tried to control.

By now it was known to everyone, even the walls of that house, that I had a massive crush on Charles, my best friend's brother. But he had always been out of my reach, dating girls who seemed to shine much brighter than me.

We sat down at the table, and Arthur brought out the lasagna. The dish was perfect, golden and crispy on the surface, with a soft, gooey inside. The smell filled the room, creating a warm and cozy atmosphere.

Charles took a bite and smiled. "Okay, I bet Yn made this," he said, looking at me with approval.

Arthur pulled me closer with a knowing look. "Yeah, you know she’s amazing with Italian dishes."

"How are you, Charles?" I asked, trying to keep my voice calm as I cut a piece of lasagna, avoiding looking into his eyes for too long.

"The races are going as they go," Charles began, choosing his words carefully, "but I have to admit, ever since I broke up, I’ve been feeling a lot better."

Those words took me completely by surprise. "You broke up?" I asked, staring at him in disbelief, my fork stopping halfway.

"Oh, yeah, and for a while now. I thought they had told you," Charles replied, throwing an accusatory glance at Arthur, who nervously scratched the back of his neck, clearly embarrassed.

"Why did you break up? You two seemed… madly in love," I asked, trying to shift the focus away from Arthur and his awkwardness.

"Well, you know, she was a bitch who only cared about money and fame," Charles explained with a bluntness that surprised me. "And then… I realized I want a lighter, more playful relationship. With her, everything was too heavy." He paused and added, "She would never have cooked for us. You know, I’d marry you just for that."

In that moment, my world stopped. His words seemed to echo in my head, as his eyes stayed fixed on mine, filled with an intensity I had never noticed

before. My heart was racing, and my breath suddenly became short. I tried to figure out if he was joking or if there was something deeper in those words, but his serious and slightly embarrassed look confused me.

"You’re joking, right?" Arthur intervened, trying to lighten the mood with a nervous smile.

"Of course," Charles replied, but there was a hesitation in his voice that didn’t go unnoticed. He kept looking at me, and even though he tried to keep the tone light, his cheeks turned a faint pink, as if he were torn between saying something important and wanting to keep our relationship as it was.

The silence that followed was dense with unspoken emotions. Arthur, perhaps realizing the tension, stood up abruptly, breaking the spell. "So, who wants some wine?" he asked, heading to the kitchen with a haste that betrayed his desire to divert attention from the conversation that had just taken place.

I remained still for a moment, trying to gather my thoughts. The idea that Charles could even vaguely consider the idea of being with me filled me with a pure and innocent hope. But at the same time, I knew how complicated the situation was. He was my best friend’s brother, and our bond, as deep and sincere as it was, had never crossed that fine line that separated brotherly affection from something more.

As Arthur returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses, Charles and I exchanged one last look. He smiled at me, a small smile that seemed to say many things. And for a moment, I let that smile warm my heart, forgetting all the complications for an instant.

Arthur poured the wine, and we sat down again, trying to steer the conversation back to lighter tones. But the atmosphere had changed.

As we sipped the wine and enjoyed the last slice of lasagna, I couldn’t help but think about how strange fate was. Sometimes, it makes us go in circles, it makes us take winding paths, only to bring us back exactly where we were meant to be from the beginning. Maybe that lunch, with its simplicity and surprises, was one of those moments that mark a turning point, a new chapter that opens, even if we didn’t yet know where it would lead us.

And as the evening went on, and the laughter and jokes filled the room, I couldn’t help but glance at Charles from time to time, wondering if he felt that change too, if he was thinking about what could happen between us if only we had the courage to explore that possibility.

Maybe, I thought, while smiling at Arthur’s jokes, that some things just need a little more time to mature. And maybe, in the end, fate would find a way to connect those dots that seemed to have been left hanging for so long.

[dollfacefantasy]

hi! i just finished reading your most recent fic, (amazing btw 💕) and keep reflecting on the part where leon calls reader a little disappointing.. so i was wondering if you could write some angst with DI leon where he’s quite mean and degrading and saying how he’s disappointed and stuff with reader, yk! then leon lovingly fucks reader after as a way to say sorry? (daddy kink included) thank you <3

pairing: leon kennedy x fem!reader

summary: leon goes a little too hard on you one night during sex. upon realizing how much it hurt you, he knows he has to make it up somehow.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, daddy kink, praise/degradation, age gap (20s, early forties), mentions of spanking & not using safeword

word count: 5.2k

a/n: part 1 <3 took me a while to figure out how i wanted to do this but i hope you guys enjoy.

Something isn't right.

That's all you could think while watching Leon idly stir pasta sauce at the stove. You were perched nearby at the counter, observing him as if he was under experimentation. While to anyone else his actions would appear completely mundane, you knew that this gesture was only the first step in something larger. 

He never cooked you dinner. In the year and six weeks you'd been with him, he'd only ever made you a real meal twice before. Once being six weeks ago on your anniversary, and the other about four months before that, a couple days after you had a fight that nearly blew the wheels off your relationship.

In each case, there was a reason behind it. Whether to celebrate or make amends, neither was an innocuous decision made at random. You weren't even sure that Leon possessed the ability to be spontaneous, but that was a separate issue for another time. The obvious meaning behind his actions was the cause of the splashing of the noodles being poured into the boiling water making your stomach turn. 

Because today wasn't anything special. There wasn't a birthday or an achievement to make an occasion of. That meant it was the other option, the makeup option, and you were extra sure of this because the two of you hadn't exactly been the perfect picture of being in love lately.

"Honey, could you put these on the table for me?" he asks, pulling you out of your thoughts.

He looks at you over his shoulder to make sure you see the plates and silverware he's referring to.

"Yeah, sure," you respond.

You hop off the stool you were sitting on and grab the things he wanted you to. This was even worse. He wasn't going to let you eat in peace at the counter like you did when he wasn't here. No, he was going to stare you down across the dining table.

But you still do what he asks. Sighing, you haphazardly put a plate down on both ends of the table with silverware bordering each side to match. You grab glasses next and put them there too. Once everything is in its perfect place, you plop down at your seat, deciding to wait here until he joins you. This chair was out of view from the kitchen which meant you could get a few moments alone to brace yourself.

It's not that anything terrible was going to happen. It was just going to be a conversation. But it would be a relationship conversation, an emotional conversation, something neither of you were good at.

You weren't good at it because you'd never been good at it. Ever since you were a kid, the slightest spotlight put on your feelings had barbs forming in your throat and stinging, salty tears brimming your lash line. Everything had to be coaxed out of you, or you were sure to break down. 

Leon wasn't good at it because his version of a conversation came across more as an interrogation. When talking about feelings, he never wanted to talk about his own. He'd never share what was going on in his own head, he only wanted to know what was going on in yours. You were the one struggling; therefore, you were the one he needed to help. You were the mission to be resolved.

You supposed that was consistent with everything else about the man you loved. He always wanted to be the one in control, the one managing the details of your life. It came from the desire to protect. He showed his love by keeping you safe, keeping you from being like him. He went away for weeks on end following orders. When he came home, he liked to be the one doling them out.

And that was how you liked it too. You weren't some unwilling victim. When he offered to try this stuff out with you, you couldn't have been happier. You liked being told to do this and do it now. You liked the security of his lap, the promise that no matter how bad things got he would be there to wipe away your tears and make it all better.

You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose. You were pretty sure you knew what the specific topic of conversation would be tonight. You'd been distant lately. You could already hear his voice ringing through your head telling you that. For the past couple weeks, you hadn't been you. You hadn't been as sweet on him, kissing his cheeks and stroking his hair while you cuddled. Hadn't been hanging off his body or climbing all over him every chance you got. Hadn't been as eager to squeal daddy when he made you cum.

You knew why, and you knew he didn't. That was by design though. You didn't want him to know. This whole situation had spiraled so far out of control, and you just wanted to sweep your mess under the rug and forget about it. You didn't need daddy's help cleaning it up.

It shouldn't even be that big of a deal. Nothing that bad had happened.

The night that had your panties in a bunch happened a few weeks ago. You'd had a shitty day and so had Leon. You were looking to act out, and he was looking to punish.

You gave him some attitude. A few eye rolls and sharp responses when he asked you things. Looking back, you think maybe you should've sensed he was in a bad mood and just dropped it. That's when the other part of you chimes in and wonders why he couldn't do the same for you. Why couldn't he feel out your emotions and realize you needed him? But then you start to feel emotionally stunted, expecting your boyfriend to be a mind reader. 

This internal conversation never gets very far.

That night he hadn't read your mind. He'd taken you over his lap and given you a spanking. It was pretty standard. You'd had over a dozen of those by his hand at this point. The slaps weren't the problem. His palm hit you all the same, bringing the sting you craved. The part that stuck with you and created this wedge was just him. It was how he spoke, the way he looked at you. 

You could still see the eyes you fell in love with looking at you with nothing but disappointment.

You could still hear him growling in your ear when he had you bent in half and fucked you afterwards. He had you face down on the couch, holding your head against the cushion while he jackhammered into you.

"If you want my attention, all you have to do is ask. You know that. But you never fucking do it. You play these games with me. You think I wanna put up with that? You think I come home and wanna hear you bitching at me too?"

You weren't even sure what about it had got you. It was harsh, sure, but it was supposed to be.

"I want you to be a good girl. To behave. I don't want to deal with a bratty little slut."

He'd said stuff like that before. But in that moment it didn't feel like daddy was mad at you, it felt like your boyfriend was. It didn't feel like you were naughty or misbehaving. It felt like you were pathetic.

"You want daddy's attention so bad, next time you say please like you're supposed to. Don't make me go through the chore of disciplining your ass again. I'm over it."

By some miracle you still got to cum. He came inside you like normal. When he pulled out he'd fallen back onto the cushions of the couch to catch his breath. He lied there, fingers wiping the sweat from his brow as if he'd put in a hard day's work. You sat there unsure of what to do with yourself. After he'd come down a little more, he'd pulled you close, kissed all over your face like normal and taken to you to bed. But you'd laid there with your eyes open, trying not to cry as he snored against the back of your neck.

You're snapped out of your memories by the thud of the pot on the dining room table. Leon stood a few feet away from you, oven mitts on both hands as he placed the dish between your seats. He cracks a smile at you when you look up and meet his eyes.

"I made way too much. I hope you're hungry," he teases.

You respond with a weak grin of your own. Sitting up straight in your chair, you blink a few times and rub your face as if that'd be enough to clear away the past and magically fix everything.

Two of his fingers duck below your chin and guide you to look at him again.

"You ok?" he asks. His voice is tender like it is most of the time when he speaks to you.

"Yeah. I'm just tired," you tell him with a more convincing smile. You're not sure if it works, but he seems to accept it for now.

"Alright," he says, leaning down and kissing the corner of your mouth.

He takes his seat across the table, opposite yours. You get the privilege of serving your portion first. You shovel a helping of pasta onto your plate. The red sauce spreads on your plate, and you grab a piece of toast to soak some of it up. Leon repeats your actions and gets some of the food for himself. He had made too much. You'd definitely have leftovers, but that was nothing to complain about. He made dinner before these conversations for a reason. Like anything else, he was a good cook when he wanted to be.

The meal starts off silent as you had expected it to. You both eat instead of trying to talk. Forks hitting plates and bread crunching into two fills the room in the place of words. A sense of calm comes over you, but you know it won't last forever. Eventually, Leon does break the silence with some basic questions. How was your day, wasn't this summer heat killer, did you see he fixed that thing in the garage you'd asked him to. It's fine. Just fine like everything had been for the past couple weeks.

The conversation reaches another lull though, and this is when he goes for the killing strike.

"Baby, I think we need to talk," he sighs.

You raise your eyebrows as if you hadn't been expecting this.

"About what?" you ask after swallowing your mouthful of pasta.

Now he raises his eyebrows. He's not disappointed, but he knows you're playing dumb and doesn't appreciate it. It's affectionate though. It doesn't look like it did a few weeks ago.

"I know something's bothering you," he tries softly.

"I told you I was tired," you shrug and look away.

"It's not just today though. It's been more than a few days," he says.

You sigh and put your fork down. You're conscious of every part of your reaction in an effort to avoid looking pouty or melting into tears.

"I don't know. The past few weeks I just haven't felt great. It's not like a crisis situation or something," you say.

"Then tell me about it, sweetheart," he says, trying to will you to look up at him with his gentle tone, "I want to help, but I don't know what's wrong. Every time I try, you pull away."

"Not on purpose," you add. It's an important defense to you.

"I'm not saying it's on purpose," he says. You can tell he's trying to be as non-confrontational as possible. Maybe he does pick up on your emotions a little bit. "All I'm saying is that I'm worried about you."

And with one little sentence, you feel the spikes starting to poke through. You look down and place your palm on your eyes. You felt ten times more pathetic than you had a few weeks ago. He can see you're getting closer to breaking, so he continues.

"You can talk to me. If you need something or I did something, I just want to make it better," he continues, "I don't like not knowing what's going on in that pretty head. I like it even less seeing you look so sad."

Your lip wobbles. A last resort to hold in the barrage of emotions. "It's nothing," you choke out.

"It's not nothing if it has you this upset," he counters, speaking quietly, "Just talk to me, little love."

That's all it takes, and you can't hold it anymore. Tears leak from your water line and draw limpid streaks down your face. You bite your lip to nip any audible cries in the bud. It doesn't matter though, he still sees the small droplets of water.

"My baby," he coos, "C'mere."

You rise to your feet in an instant and round the table. He pushes his chair back and takes you into his lap. You're cradled by his warmth, safe against his chest as he rubs your back. As much as you loved mentally complaining about his interrogations, maybe this is what you needed. Maybe this worked for you.

"You're ok. I'm right here," he murmurs. 

He kisses your hairline and cups the back of your neck to keep you close. He lets you cry it out before attempting any more questions. Once it seems you've settled though, the spotlight is back on you.

"What's wrong, sunshine?" he whispers.

Try as he might, you still couldn't bring yourself to say the words. It was like two wires in your brain that just did not physically connect. Expressing pain was hard enough, but expressing pain that he caused? This inability killed you, it really did. Thinking about it brings another sob from your lips. You wanted to beat your own ass till she had enough of a spine to just say a few simple words so this could all be over.

You can't do that though, so Leon continues on with his tender questions.

"Can you tell me when you started feeling this way?" he asks with a hint of hesitation.

There that was one you could answer. "Few weeks ago."

He nods, taking any information he could get as crucial.

"Alright... is there something stressing you out?" he asks.

You shake your head. Technically there was something stressing you out, but while you were breaking down, 'stressing out' was code for responsibilities, so the answer is no.

"Problems with your friends?"

Another head shake.

"Family?"

No.

"...Me?"

You almost shake your head again. You could swing just making something up on the spot. But that wouldn't be right to him. He'd done the work of the guessing game and come to the conclusion fair and square. You nod yes.

A whirlpool of emotion forms in his pupils, but it's almost like he knew he was to blame. He nods and sighs. His hand doesn't stop rubbing your back.

"Ok," he breathes, "You gotta give me a hint, honey."

You found words coming a bit easier now that he had led you this far.

"Remember a few weeks ago when you got mad at me?" you rasp and look at him with your watery eyes.

He blinks at you. "We got into a fight a few weeks ago?" he asks. 

There's genuine confusion in his tone. He didn't remember. Or at least this day didn't stick out in his mind. He hadn't been dwelling on it since it happened, hadn't been wondering if it meant something greater in the context of your relationship. You weren't sure if that brought you relief or frustration.

"No. It was like... it was when I had a bad day and I came home and you were watching that stupid cop show. And I kept talking. And you told me to shut up. And I said you were only watching it cause you didn't know how to change the channel," you list off some of the events that led to the infamous incident.

He smiles upon remembering that little joke. He found it funny. Then why did he get so mean?

"Don't tell me you've been mad cause I wouldn't let you watch your show instead," he teases.

"No, it's not that. Remember after when you spanked me? And then we fucked on the couch..." you sniffle.

He pauses to think about your words. The gears turn in his head, the pieces fall into place. The lightbulb goes off in his eyes.

"Oh yeah. I remember that," he says. He remembers, but he doesn't understand. "What about it?"

His thumb swipes a few tears away while waiting for the answer you were still trying to formulate.

"Well... like... I don't know," you start. You felt ridiculous verbalizing it. "You just kinda hurt my feelings."

His brows furrow. He still doesn't get it.

"Hurt your feelings?" he repeats, "I didn't hit you too hard, did I? You know if that ever happens you have the word. You say it, and I stop for you in a heartbeat. You know that."

"It didn't hurt like that... it's just some of the stuff you said," you say. The urge to pull away is starting to come back.

"Sweetheart," he says. His voice is dripping with concern. He didn't remember saying anything bad enough that you'd still be twisted into knots over it multiple weeks later. "You know you can use the word for that kind of thing too. Please tell me you know that."

"I know that," you start, feeling a little ashamed. This was exactly why you didn't want to talk about this.

"If I say something that hurts you this bad, you need to tell me. Right when I say it. You tell me to stop. You let me remind you it's not real," he says, quiet but firm. He holds you tighter, unintentionally squeezing more tears out of you. "I only say things I think will get you off. I don't say them to hurt you."

You hide your face in his neck. You felt so fucking pathetic.

"Hey, hey, hey. Shhh. It's ok. I just... I want you to understand, baby," he murmurs. He rocks you back and forth on his lap a bit before speaking again. "Can you tell me why you didn't use the word?"

Leon prayed with everything he had that it wasn't because you were scared of him. If that was it, you might as well pick up the fork off the table and jam it right into his heart. You don't answer, and it worries him. All he gets from you is the feeling of tears dribbling down his throat.

"Did it not hurt till afterwards? Did you think I wouldn't stop?" he coaxes.

You shake your head. "Cause... because I don't want you to think I can't take it," you weep.

While he's relieved it's not what he feared, he didn't expect this.

"What do you mean? You can't take it?" he repeats.

"I don't want you to think I'm a bratty little girl. I told you that stuff was ok, and I don't wanna tap out and make you feel all guilty and stuff," you cry, the words rushing from your mouth.

He sighs and his eyes close for a second. He did feel like a piece of shit now, but with what you just said, he didn't want you knowing that.

"My sweet girl," he says against your head while rubbing your back, "I would never think that about you. The word is there for you to use it whenever you want. It doesn't matter if it makes me worry I hurt you. That's not a bad thing."

You cry more into his neck, clinging to him as if you're trying to merge into one.

"I just don't wanna disappoint you," you sob.

"Baby, baby, baby," he whispers, holding you tight against his chest and rocking you again, "You never disappoint me. You don't. Not when you act bratty, not when you break a rule. That shit is all a game. It's a game, and if you don't like it, we don't have to play it.

"I know you're sensitive. I know you get emotional. I'm with you knowing that stuff. It doesn't make me think of you as an obligation. I like being daddy, but it doesn't make me think of you like that. If it makes you feel like that, we can stop. You're more important than any of it."

"I do like it," you weep, "I just... I don't want you to think I'm pathetic."

"I don't think that. I never have," he says and kisses your temple, "You're my baby. My pretty girl. My favorite person on this planet."

You sniffle and snake your arms around him tighter.

"Pathetic or disappointment never cross my mind when I look at you. Half the time I don't even have thoughts when I see you. You're so fucking gorgeous you take 'em all away," he whispers.

He nudges your head out of the crook of his neck so he can see you. His lips land on your forehead first. Then your nose. Then each cheek. And finally your lips.

"Look at me," he whispers.

You do what he asks and look up at him. You look into his eyes. These were the eyes you fell in love with.

"You are not a disappointment," he says before a kiss, "You are not pathetic. I love you. I love you when you're being good or when you're being a little shit. I love when you wanna call me daddy, but you'd still be mine if you decided you never wanted to say that word again."

"I still wanna call you daddy," you sniffle and give him a small smile.

He chuckles and returns the expression. "That was a quick decision," he teases, "Doesn't sound like you thought it through."

"I did. I still want my daddy," you say and put your head down on his shoulder.

"Good. Cause I'm right here," he says softly, "Daddy's got you."

The problem wasn't totally resolved in Leon's mind. Never again did he want to cause you weeks worth of stress over something like this. But for now, he was happy to see you smile. He could accept this temporary fix. He nuzzles your neck and places a few soft kisses on your throat.

"I think daddy needs to make it up to his baby for being so mean to her. For making her cry like that," he whispers.

A warm tingle branches out through your spine and curves around your ribs. You scoot closer to him in his lap and shrug, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"Don't give me that shrug. You know you like being spoiled. Being the center of attention," he whispers.

"Yeah..." you whisper in his ear.

He grunts as he rises to his feet with you in his arms. Your legs lock around his waist before his feet even start moving. He'd clean up the table later. Right now was about you.

He carries you through the house, tosses you onto the bed. You squeak at your glide through the air. He pulls his shirt off and drops his pants before climbing on top of you. Always efficient your Leon.

The warm lengths of his muscular limbs encompass you against the mattress. He starts by kissing you on the mouth, but his lips soon trail down to your neck. Tongue and teeth brush over the balmy skin of your neck. He nips a few hickeys along the curve of your throat, listening for every little hitch in your breath or stifled moan.

"Always with those pretty little noises..." he mumbles against your skin.

He inhales you before moving away, gets his fix of your scent before his hands push your shirt over your head and toss to the floor with his. His hands rub up and down your side, gently squeezing and massaging while his mouth migrates towards your chest. He lays kisses at the tops of your breasts. He can feel your heart pattering against his lips. It drives him crazy, feeling what he does to you down to that level.

Your legs wrap around his waist and pull his body closer. You couldn't get close enough after the weeks of distance. He groans as his crotch comes flush against yours. It's as if he can feel the heat of your center through the layers of cloth that separate you.

He kisses between your breasts, forcing himself to remove your bra before he thinks about your pants. He nuzzles the two spheres of flesh with all the care he holds in his body. He'd never been good with words, and the last few weeks proved as much. Showing you physically how he feels is easier.

"Haven't been able to kiss my girls properly in too long," he murmurs and glances up at you, cocky smile in his eyes.

"You're stupid," you laugh quietly.

"Hey. That's not a nice word, princess. Not one you should be calling your daddy," he chides before giving one of your nipples a few sucks.

You sigh contently and arch into the wet embrace of his mouth. "Sorry daddy," you smile.

"I'm sure you are."

He gives your tits some more attention, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't antsy to get his fingers wet. They fumble with the button on your shorts before he lifts your legs and practically tears the garment loose. He kisses your ankle and down your calf to your knee where his hands take over and press them up against your torso. He can feel your slick creating a wet patch on the front of his boxers and ruts into it. His cock grows stiffer beneath the fabric as if trying to get to you.

"You ready for me, babydoll? Dripping like a good girl? Gonna be nice and easy for daddy to slide right in," he says while leaning down to be close to you.

You nod eagerly, your nose bumping against his.

"Nothing makes it better than having daddy inside, hm?" he coos.

"Don't need anything else," you say and sling your arms around his neck.

That's all he needs to hear. He pushes his underwear down his legs enough so that his cock is free. You feel it slot between your puffy outer folds and prod at your entrance.

He slips it inside, and you both groan. Your head tilts back, allowing him to kiss at your neck some more. You'd had sex since that fight, but this was the first time you were feeling full. The first time you were feeling like his again.

"Daddy," you whine and grab at him. Just what he'd been missing.

His hips start to rock. The bones in his pelvis press right up against your ass. He fucks you deep and slow at first. Each thrust glides over a myriad of sweet spots. Every time he pulls back, you just want him to push right back in.

"That's it, honey. Tell daddy how much you missed him," he grunts.

You don't say it with words. You tighten up around him, squeezing his dick like if it gets out you'll die. The sensation wrangles a moan out of him, and his face drops into your neck. He digs his forearms into the mattress and uses the leverage to pump himself into you harder.

"My perfect, perfect girl. Don't know what I'd do without you," he whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut. You just listen to the sound of his panting, feel his heart beating for you. Your thighs tremble while pressing into his waist. Your toes curl as his hips strike the right angle to batter right where you need him.

"You could never disappoint me," he mutters. You feel his lips moving against your throat. "I love you, sweet girl. Nothing you do could ever change that."

The words are almost enough to make you get all weepy again, but you'd cried enough for one day. Instead your body latches onto him tighter.

"Harder," you whimper.

"You sure, baby?" he hums.

Your nod comes quickly. "Need to feel it more. Need it harder."

So he gives it to you harder. His eyes clamp shut and shroud his vision in darkness. He focuses on thrusting hard, clapping his skin against yours over and over. He pounds into you while pressing his face harder against you too.

You show your gratitude with a whine. His shaft hits just right, fills you up just the way you'd been aching for.

"Almost there, daddy- Can I-" you stumble over words.

"Yeah, sweetheart. You don't gotta ask tonight. You cum when you're ready," he says.

That's how you know he's really sorry. He keeps fucking into you until he feels your limbs fizzling from the proximity to release. Everything about you gets shaky. Your breaths are ragged and labored, your hands vibrate while trying to clutch at him.

"Fuck fuck fuck," you whimper.

The spark goes off inside you, and you cum hard. Your body goes taut and rolls through the waves of euphoria. He can't resist your walls pulsating around him. It's only a handful of seconds before his tummy is fluttering and his seed is spilling from him into your cunt.

"Inside, daddy," you whine as if he needed the direction.

"That's what I'm doing, baby," he grunts through clenched teeth.

He drools against your neck while his hips twitch and the last few drops leak from him. The saliva gets smeared in the messy kisses he leaves on you while pulling out. He rolls over but scoops you up with him, cradling you against his chest in a position that isn't necessarily comfortable but you love anyway.

A series of over the top kisses land on your face. You scrunch your nose and shake your head.

"Quit it. I already forgave you," you giggle, "You don't gotta slobber on me."

"Tsk tsk. Ungrateful," he tuts affectionately, "You know if I didn't give you these, you'd be begging for 'em."

"Mmm... maybe," you acquiesce with a little smile.

"Sure, sure. Maybe. Silly girl," he mumbles and nuzzles your cheek.

The playful touches continues for a moment before he calms down and softens up. You look towards his eyes, and his fingers sweep down your cheek.

"You're ok now?" he asks.

You nod. "We're ok now."

To give him the final shred of reassurance that you could, you stick out your pinky. He rolls his eyes, but sticks his out to and hooks it with yours. He knew you were back to yourself since your inability to be serious had made a reappearance. He smacks a kiss on your lips to seal the deal. He can feel you smiling into it.

[heartfullofleeches]

If I had a cute pizza boy show up at my door, giving me free pizza with special 'sauce' for weeks on end I would either sneak a slip of paper with my number on it into the tip or try to invite him on a date, depending if I'm feeling confident or not -3-

I am a sucker for cute boys in a uniform what can I say?

Yan "Pizza Boy + Reader

If Brie had to pick something he disliked about visiting you - it would be taking your money.

"You really don't have to give me anything. Just doing what I love!"

One might call into question the fulfillment delivering pizza for a living may bring, but he wasn't lying. For the most part anyway. This job as fictitious as it was birthed the real feelings he had for you. If anyone should be paid it's you for putting up with his awkward attempts at small talk or when he nearly drops your food whenever your fingers touch. Taking your money felt like a bigger crime than everything he's done up to this point. He refuses to take it nine times out of ten-

Today you weren't giving him any chance to escape.

"I insist! You've been coming here for weeks, Brie. It's the least I can do for you."

No- Don't do that. How is he supposed to say no when you say his name like that? The day you ended up on a first name bases was the same day Brie's cheeks were sore for a full twenty-four hours for smiling so long.

"Take it. For me? You deserve it."

"Ha...." Brie sure of it now- You'll definitely be the death of him someday. "If it makes you happy. I can't thank you enough for your kindness."

"Hope I see you soon-"

The implications of your words are lost to Brie as he aimlessly drifts off back in the direction of his car, tripping over a crack in the pavement he's step over many times before. His spirits remain high as he corrects himself and hopes into the vehicle. He was good on cash and it'd be crazy to spend money you gave him. Brie digs his wallet out of the glove compartment- He'll keep the bills in a separate compartment away from the rest of his money for good luck-

"Huh?"

Something hits his foot. A small folded piece of paper nestled between the bills. A receipt you forgot maybe? His... His name is on it though. Next to a heart.

Brie snatches the paper off the floor.

"Buy something nice on the way home for me. Wish there was more I could do to repay you. How about dinner this Saturday?

Call me. XX"

Dinner? This Saturday? That almost sounds like...

"A date."

You. Him?? Brie reads the note aloud to make sure he read it correctly. He waves a hand in front of his eyes to check if they're working right. You, want to go out with him. On a date. He thought you were just being nice the last time you called him cute.

"Yes! Yes! Yes!"

The repeated hammering of his feet against the floor as he kicks his legs alerts dogs walking past his car with their owner. Brie waves bashfully as the dog walker from his side mirror. He brushes his hair out of his face, adjusting his posture as he places his hands on the wheel.

Brie drives over to the gas station nearest to him. He buys himself a bottle of iced tea with his tip money - assuring at least one dollar remains from his purchase to tape up in his car at a later date. He drinks from the bottle, taking smaller sips every other swallow to savior what was probably the best bottle of tea he'd ever had.