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hornychristianprincess · 3 months

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wasted (leehan x fem reader) pt 3

paring: leehan x fem reader genre: smut, fluff, angst, fuckboy!leehan word count: 15k bc i'm a slut for this man SRFKLHSDLK summary: everything in your life is affected as your relationship with leehan progresses. warnings: explicit sex scenes, oral (male and female receiving), expressions of insecurity and self-esteem issues should you wish to read on ao3, click HERE.

At the library on a Saturday night, you, Leehan, Riwoo, and Giselle sit at the same table, studying for your approaching midterms.

“Y/N,” says Leehan. “Can you send me the pdf file you found for the English textbook?”

You nod, quickly finding the file on your phone and airdropping it to Leehan the Lion . “Just sent it.”

“Thanks,” he mutters, before returning to writing notes on his laptop.

This is about as exciting as your interactions get with Leehan when you’re among your group of friends, studying or going to the caf or finding some event on campus to go to.

It was the ultimate whiplash, then, to experience Leehan when you were alone.

Because in the month or so that’s passed since the night of the lunar eclipse, every few days you could look forward to the what are you doing? text that usually led up to some of the most satisfying, passionate sex of your life.

The friends-with-benefits arrangement the two of you were in had quickly become the center of your life. It felt like you were always in limbo as you awaited his latest text, and when you got it, it didnt’t matter what you were doing – you were always ready to surrender to him, to surrender to pleasure that was beginning to feel like the only thing that made you excited to wake up some days.

You had sex sometimes three, sometimes five times a week. Where it happened didn’t really matter to either of you — in the bathroom at a party, the confines of your dorm room, in the backseat of his car.

Everything in your life had been shrunken to make space for what was now your top priority.

And whatever negative impacts were to come of such decision-making were yet to be seen when it felt like the high you received from his attention was blinding everything else.

It was always weird to have to face him in settings like this the next day, to hear him speak to you so casually as if his face wasn’t buried between your legs less than 24 hours ago. Still, you kept up your end of this unspoken bargain to pretend as if you weren’t anything but acquaintances.

“I have midterms for every class. I’m feel like I’m gonna die of stress,” said Giselle, throwing her long brown hair over her shoulders. Giselle was one of the people who rode with Jaehyun during the lunar eclipse, and although you didn’t get much time to speak with her then, you’ve since gotten close by hanging out more.

“That’s why you need to find the right vice. Food…drugs… orgasms, ” replies Leehan playfully, quirking a teasing eyebrow in her direction. He chuckles as Giselle rolls her eyes at him, and as much as you hate yourself for it, you can’t help but notice how his eyes linger on her even as she returns to her textbook.

Occasionally, you’ll observe the fact that the sense of humor and charm that made you fall for Leehan in the first place is not something that he reserves for only you, and it makes you just the tiniest bit sad.

It’s nice to feel, even if it’s not true, like the moments you share alone in your bedroom are ones where he feels safe to show you things no one else gets to see. Like you hold the key to pieces of Leehan that no one else can access.

So in times like these where you’re presented with evidence that says otherwise, it makes you feel like there is nothing special or significant about how you and Leehan got to where you were. Perhaps it was just a case of right place right time, like he could’ve met anyone – Giselle, even – and done the same things he’s done with you.

Then again, the interaction you just observed could’ve been completely innocent and it’s you that’s overthinking it.

At the end of the day, if you were keeping score, the fact that you’re the first person with whom Leehan has offered up his body to on a regular basis feels like more than enough evidence that what you share is special.

In fact, you’re pretty sure he’s gonna fuck you after this.

You know because in the hour or so later when the library is about to close and you’re wrapping up your study session, he says, “Y/N, you live near the mail center, right? I’ll walk with you; I need to drop something off before I head home.”

It takes every bit of self control you have to not break out into a smirk – he knows exactly where you live, and it’s because you fuck there almost every time. “Sure,” you reply, in the most neutral voice you can possible muster.

“See you guys later,” you’re saying to Riwoo and Giselle as you pack up your things and head out.

It’s past midnight and almost completely dark outside by the time you and Leehan leave, save for the few street lights that illuminate the sidewalk. For no reason in particular, it’s silent between the two of you. You might’ve found such an atmosphere to be awkward if it weren’t for the fact that your dorm was only a 5 minute walk away. And, when it comes to Leehan, you can never be too presumptuous in trying to interpret his moods; being the person that he is, something you’d usually interpret as disinterest could actually mean a plethora of non-threatning things for him.

On the way there, you approach what’s essentially an alleyway, a narrow space between two dorms that is deserted and dark. You don’t think anything of it until suddenly, you’re tugged inside of it and everything in your line of sight goes dark.

And before you can ask questions or react, your senses are flooded by the feeling of Leehan’s lips pressed against yours.

It’s amazing how your body adapts to the sudden gesture before your mind does. While it takes you a moment to internally acknowledge that you’re not in danger, your skin ignites with electricity the moment his lips touch yours.

If a bystander were to observe the passionate, needy, almost desperate way he’s kissing you, they’d think that you’re someone he hasn’t seen in years, someone who he’s eager to make up lost time with.

He doesn’t stop at just dominating your mouth with his tongue. His hands, like calloused vines, wrap themselves around your body, setting fire to whatever pieces of exposed skin he can find. And when you whimper against him, he adds to the sound with a groan of his own.

But no, this isn’t a kiss of two lovers who have been separated by time, or location. Leehan is just a person who is steadfast in his commitment to doing everything in his life earnestly. And it’s one of the many reasons why you are enamored by him.

When he pulls away to look at you, you can see even in the dark the expression of relief on his face. It’s as if kissing you was an urge he has been suppressing until now, and having gotten his fix, he’s left in a state of contentment.

“What was that for?” you ask, adrenaline and arousal running through your veins in such an fiery combination that you find your voice comes out weaker than usual.

“Just had to get it out my system,” is what he says indifferently in reply, and with his lips curling into a smirk, he heads out of the alleyway and continues on the path to your dorm. You follow him, feeling like the arousal you had been suppressing the entire time you were at the library with your friends has now doubled in a way that makes your knees wobbly as you walk.

It’s silent between the two of again as you approach the building to your dorm, although now you feel confident in assuming that it had always been searing sexual tension that was keeping him from being his usual talkative, bubbly self.

It could be confusing to someone else, then, why — even as you’re locking the door to your room with him inside of it – you still aren’t all over each other in the way your earlier interactions might’ve preluded.

But it’s because you just have one more confirmation you need to make before you can truly let go of your inhibitions, and that’s the question of, “Is your roommate here?”

Your roommate, lovely girl, would usually be here in the dorm at this time. But already having a feeling what you’d be getting up to tonight, you transparently informed her through text that im so so sorry but i’m out with you know who and i could reallllyyy use some dick tonight. buy you food to make up for it? just before you left the library.

“No. She’s out studying,” you tell Leehan.

When you meet each other’s gazes, Leehan’s eyes sparkling as if he’s just been told he’s won the lottery, you can sense the exact moment when the both of you realize there’s no longer a need to wait. And so, like animals excitedly tearing up freshly-killed prey, it’s in a messy, rushed flurry of movements that you both take each other’s clothes off.

Before Leehan, you don’t think you ever experienced an attraction for someone so intense that it caused you to push furniture over in the process of trying to get to the bedroom. But with him, the sound of a glass vase breaking doesn’t feel so concerning when you’re too busy trying to make it to the bed, take off his clothes, and not break your kiss all at once.

There’s something so humorous about your shared vigor, causing you to both smile into the kisses you share, remaining playful even among such intensity.

“You’re roommate’s a lovely person, isn’t she?” he remarks as he backs you up into your bedroom doorframe, throwing the jacket you had been wearing on your rug in the process. “I’ve gotta apologize to her one day. Poor girl’s had to hear so many things.”

You hate how much his words ring true, because truthfully, tonight was one out of several rare occasions in which you’ve been given enough foresight to warn your roommate before Leehan comes over. Other times, things between you two have blossomed too spontaneously for a warning, or, your phone died while you were out together, giving you no means to let her know he was arriving.

“ Ew . Don’t talk about her like that. It’ll make me think you have a thing for her,” you reply in reference to the lovely person and poor girl attributions, and although you’re mostly joking, the insecurity from before about his interest in other women still remains present in the forefront of your mind.

And it’s not at all helped when, even jokingly, he makes remarks like, “Hey — I’d never say no to inviting someone else into our activities.”

At this point, you’re standing in nothing but a bra and panties in front of him, preparing to give your body up for his pleasure, which is why you think it’s fairly reasonable that you reach out to swat him in response to such cheekiness.

But he seizes your wrists before you can make contact, laughing at your reaction in that way that, as annoying as it is to acknowledge right now, makes him look so, so sexy. “I’m kidding, baby,” he chides apologetically. “I’d never share you. Want you too fucking badly to even think about it.”

It’s in moments like these that you can’t help but get butterflies from Leehan, especially when he leans in to kiss you languidly right after. This habit he’s taken of calling you all sorts of pet names, from princess to baby to sweet girl, is something that has made your attraction to him increase tenfold.

How could you help it, when his deep voice by itself is like a weapon specifically designed to torture you?

“Are you needy, baby?” asks Leehan teasingly, as his hand is now stuffed in your underwear, and his forehead is pressed against yours as he pushes you against the hard surface of your dresser and fingers you expertly. “Was what we did two days ago not enough? Did I not fuck you good enough?”

It’s actually because the sex from two days ago – and the day before that and the day before that and the days since you met him – was too good that you find yourself needing little stimulation to get wet at the thought of fucking him again. But of course, you don’t admit this, not needing his ego to get any larger than it is. “Shut up and fuck me.”

But Leehan doesn’t pay your cheek any mind, reacting only with a scoff as he busies himself with getting on his knees in front of you. Pressing his face against the skin of your bare stomach, he remarks, “You smell like me. It’s so fucking sexy.”

Leehan is the most wayward person you’ve ever met. But you can surely count on him in moments like these to make your entire body feel like it’s on fire, knowing exactly what buttons to push and places to touch to get a rise out of you. All he does is leave chaste, delicate kisses along the skin from your sternum to your belly button, but the fact that he maintains eye contact as he does it, and the implication that he makes when he says, “And I bet you taste like heaven, too,” makes you feel like you’re experiencing something so ethereal it’s as if you’re out of your own body.

You’re looking down at him as he kisses at the spot just above your pussy, and it’s at that moment that you decide you want him too badly to wait any longer. Fingers that had once laced themselves in his hair now tug on the strands, pulling him up and off of you. “Leehan. Inside of me. Now.”

You watch as his eyes scan your face to tell if you’re being serious or not, and if you could see yourself through his gaze, you know you’d be convincingly earnest in your desire to have him. Once he confirms this for himself, he pops up from his previous position kneeling on the ground, and looks at you with his head cocked to the side in a expression of challenge. Pushing you up onto the dresser, he quirks an eyebrow to say, “Have I ever told you that I find you sexiest when you’re telling me what to do?”

At this, you smile, playing into his confession by commanding, “Kiss me,” before leaning in to meet his lips. And when his hand travels between your legs, you know it’s not to touch you, but to reach into the top drawer of your dresser where you’ve allowed him to stash some condoms. It’s with excitment that you hear him tear open the package, sliding the latex onto his hardened cock.

There’s a moment just before he lines his cock up with your slit where he pulls away from your lips, reaching a hand out to hold your jaw in place so that your eyelines are level. And when he simply just stares at you silently, allowing his eyes to graze your features with an awe-stricken expression on his face, you can’t help but look away as the intensity of his admiration becomes overwhelming.

He chuckles at your obvious shyness, hand never leaving your jaw as he continues to view you like you’re a delicate statue he’s entranced by. “Don’t you think it’s too late to be shy after everything we’ve done together?” he says jokingly, and even though you feign disagreement with a roll of your eyes, you make no effort to suppress the smile that appears on your face as you bask in his teasing of you.

“I can’t help it,” you reply, comfortably meeting his gaze now. “You’re just really fucking handsome.”

You’re sure he’s heard these words hundreds of times in hundreds of ways, and yet you can see his eyes-widening as if you’ve said something sincerely touching. Perhaps the words hit differently when heard spontaneously, genuinely, without any pretense behind them.

It’s without any warning that Leehan pushes himself inside of you. Caught off guard by the feeling of his cock entering you inch by pleasurable inch, you can only make a mental note to apologize to him later as your fingernails dig into the skin of his back. Luckily, he doesn’t seem to mind, too focused on leaning his forehead against yours and watching with greedy eyes as his cock enters your pussy and leaves it with a creamy sheen.

“Jesus fucking christ, Y/N,” he remarks in awe, managing the words through a shaky exhale as he moves to hook his arms underneath your thighs. He pulls your body closer to the edge of the dresser, bringing his cock even deeper inside of you. He hasn’t even started fucking you properly yet, and still you let out a series of elongated sighs and moans, wrapping your arms around his neck for a sense of comfort.

It’s when you’re completely pressed together in a skin-to-skin embrace that he finally begins to thrust inside of you at a pace that you’re used to. As clumsy and unsure as he can sometimes be, Leehan never fucks you erratically. It’s always with a controlled, focused pace that he pistons his hips into yours, knowing your body so well that you never have to tell him when to slow up or go faster.

When you first met Leehan, you couldn’t understand the concept of kissing being considered an intimate act between two lovers.

But now, as he leans in to press his mouth against yours, his tongue exploring the depths of your mouth, it’s with suprsing clarity that you realize why some people like to refrain from kissing entirely when they hook up with someone.

You’re at your most smitten when being passionately tongue-kissed through an unforgiving onslaught of thrusts, a part of you wishing that this sex could become a permanent fixture in your life and not just a transactional, temporary high.

It’s only when he slots a hand between your bodies to tweak at your clit that it becomes impossible for you to meet his kiss, feeling too much pleasure to hold back your open-mouthed cries. Leehan then moves to kissing your neck, and it’s some of the most sensual affection you've ever received as he allows his tongue to drag across your skin, suctioning his lips on sections of your shoulder where you’re sure he’s leaving hickies.

He goes up your body in this sequence until he reaches your ear, mumbling, “You take care of my cock so well,” as he licks at the shell of your ear and sinks his teeth onto your earlobe. “It’s why I’m never coming off of you. It’s too fucking good for me to stop.”

Transfixed by the sound of his voice, the feel of his cock, and the stimulation you receive on your clit, you can feel that it’s only a matter of time before your pleasure reaches it’s crescending point. “Leehan,” you mumble out, grabbing onto fistfuls of his long hair as if it’s the only thing keeping you tethered to Earth. “Come with me.”

He denies this request with a click of his tongue, mumbling the words, “You first,” into your ear as his thrusts increase in impact. It’s in a sad attempt at a kiss that you press your mouth against his, feeling his intensity and passion just as the same even as you devolve into just grazing your tongue against his mouth.

Your orgasm hits you in a feeling that’s akin to a bunch of puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together at once; the combination of his cock, his closeness, and his endless circling of your clit leaves your body seizing with what is surely one of the most pleasurable feelings of your life.

And as you feel his movements becoming rapid and untethered, knowing that the feeling of your tighetning cunt will soon become too pleasurable for him to bear, it’s with satisfied foreboding that you watch him give you his last, hard thrust.

There are a least of couple minutes that pass where neither of you move, the only sounds being your successive heavy breathing as you both come down from intense highs. Leehan makes the first move by carrying you your bed, where he plops you down on your back and makes a very sexy whimpering sound as he’s forced to pull out of you.

Even once you’re separated, he still plops down on the bed to rest next to you. A forearm’s length apart, you long for him to touch you, even if just for a moment.

“Shit,” he mutters, an outburst that has you confused until you notice his eyes and their fixation with your bedside alarm clock. “I didn’t realize how late it is. I really don’t want to drive back to my apartment at this time.”

Then stay, is what you think to yourself, but these are words that you would never dare to actually vocalize.

There was truthfully one instance just a month or so prior when you suggested he might leave a bookbag in your room so he didn’t have to walk home with it in the rain. Not too soon will you forget the way a usually upbeat Leehan turned cold on you within seconds, neglecting to say more than a see you later as he almost sprinted to leave your apartment.

You’d be lying if you said his eagerness to leave after the sex is finished wasn’t at least the slightest bit dismaying.

The delusional part of you wishes he could at least pretend like he didn’t just come here to fuck you and nothing more.

It would be nice to believe that the sheer enjoyment of your company would be enough to make him want to stay afterwards.

And what’s worse is that every time, he comes up with some way to express how much he probably should stay. Like just now, how he mentioned how late it was. It frustrates you more than anything.

Because no matter how much he says he doesn’t want to leave, he always does.

And at this point, you wish he would just do it decisively instead of trying to soften the blow.

“Did you hear about the party we’re having this weekend?” you hear him ask suddenly, his body in a sitting position as he gets up to put on his clothes. “Ha. We . Well, really Jaehyun.”

Though you find it difficult to have casual conversation with him when your mind is elsewhere, you indulge him with a truthful shake of your head. “No. What’s it for?”

“Halloween. He’s asking everyone to dress up,” says Leehan, having already made it to the other side of your room. If you were in more of a spirited mood, you might laugh at how he mentions dressing up for Halloween as if it’s something that’s beneath him. “Don’t worry that he didn’t tell you. He just came up with the idea yesterday.

The fact that Jaehyun hadn’t mentioned the party to you wasn’t even a thought that occurred in your mind. You were more so concerned with the logistics of deciding to throw a party during midterms. Stressed beyond relief with your own course load, you couldn’t imagine deciding to attend anything extracurricular at this time of year.

But then, the idea of making such plans seems a lot more plausible when Leehan says, “Are you coming, pretty? I think it would be cute if we went with with matching costumes.”

It’s because of moments like these that your feelings for Leehan can be so conflicting. At the beginning of your day today, he sat around you with your other friends and acted as if you were nothing more than acquaintances. Followed you to your dorm and fucked you as sensually and passionately as a boyfriend would. Is getting dressed and preparing to leave within minutes of reaching his climax. And now, he calls you pet names in a non-sexual context and tells you he wants to wear a couple’s costume with you. Constantly affronted with gestures that are both hot and cold, you can never be too sure whether it’s you that’s delusional or him that’s sending mixed messages.

Nonetheless, you cannot help yourself from replying, “Sounds fun. I’ll be there,” even though you know you that you shouldn’t. Even though you know you have far too much on your plate academically to be going to a party on a school night. Even though you know your actions should not be so predated on his. Knowing all of this, you still find yourself not the least bit concerned, only excited, as you think about attending the party together.

“See you then, gorgeous. Have sweet, x-rated dreams about me,” is what he says as he finishes putting on his discarded clothes, standing in your bedroom doorway as he prepares to leave. His silhouette casts a shadow over your dimly lit room, covering your naked, vulnerable body.

“Shut up,” you mumble weakly as you move to throw a pillow at him, a part of you wishing that all of your interactions felt as sweet as this one did.

>you: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?

Five minutes before you were planning to head out to Jaehyun’s party, you reread this text from two days ago over and over, the delivered in the corner almost taunting you. Just 13 words took you at least an half an hour to send because you couldn’t stop wondering if it was too vague or too forward or if you shouldn’t have even said anything all.

And now, as you sit on the cold bench outside of your dorm waiting for your Uber to the party, wearing a cheap angel costume, you realize now what a mistake it was to send that text.

You suppose the misunderstanding you’ve found yourself in started with your assumption – based on Leehan’s last words to you as he left your dorm just a few days ago – that you’d be shopping together to find matching costumes for Jaehyun’s party.

But when the party was inching closer and he had yet to reach out, you ventured to a PartyCity on your own. It was then that you sent the text after much internal laboring, ultimatley thinking that maybe he was busy with midterms and would be grateful that you had taken the initiative on both your behalf's to buy the costumes.

Even as you were halfway through the checkout line and still nothing from Leehan, you bought a matching devil costume for him anyway, plastic red horns to match your sparkly halo. Maybe, when he was less busy, he’d eventually reach back out, still interested in going to the party with you and grateful you saved him the trouble of picking out a costume.

In your mind, there were a billion rational possibilities for why he wasn’t responding that would still ultimately end in your original plans to attend the party and dress together.

It wasn’t until an hour before the party and still no response from Leehan that you were forced to accept you’d be going to this party yourself. A billion questions arose in your mind. Was something wrong, explaining why he had been M.I.A after making plans with you? Had he forgotten about the party entireley?

Did he just…no longer want to go with you anymore?

As you stood up to enter your approaching Uber, you try to remind yourself that the party was being thrown at Leehan’s apartment – there was no way that he was oblivious to what today was. If he hadn’t responded to your text, it didn’t necessarily have to be for malicious reasons. Maybe he just genuinely forgot, or was one of the many people who went offline during midterm season.

Either way, you were beginning to think that you were worrying too much for no reason. After all, it isn’t the end of the world that you aren’t arriving together in matching costumes.

Or, maybe it’s the couple of shots you took while getting ready finally kicking in and causing your rationality to dissipate.

Arriving at Jaehyun’s apartment, you already knew that knocking on the door would be futile; without entering, you could hear the loud sounds of bass burning through a speaker that you could guess would make any outside noise intelligible. Instead, you took your chances at twisting the doorknob, and sure enough, it was unlocked. It seemed dangerous to you, but you walked in anyway to find a cacophony of purple, green, and orange strobe lights, illuminating the sizeable crowd of people filling the space.

Decorations of cobwebs and skulls adored almost every surface, and as you walked further inside, you noticed the array of drink bowls spread out against a long table.

You observe impressively that Jaehyun went as far as hiring a DJ, a guy dressed in a vampire costume who jerks his upper body back and forth to the rhythm of the music.

It’s almost like a scene in a coming-of-age-film come to life, mountains of young adult bodies bouncing in a hypnotic fervor while drinks in red solo cups are sloshed up and down in the process.

Making your way through the crowd, you spot several of your newfound friends, plus others Jaehyun introduced you to at the lunar eclipse. You wave particularly to Riwoo, Giselle, and Sungho – dressed as an elf, cat, and fireman respectively – but really , who you’re looking for is Leehan.

In the first five minutes or so of your search, you have no luck in finding him. You do, however, run into Jaehyun, whose sleeveless jean vest with no shirt underneath immediately gives away his costume as Ken from the Barbie movie. You giggle at the realization, taken aback even more when Jaehyun drapes an arm clumsily over your shoulder, bringing you in closer.

“I’m so glad you could make it, Y/N!” he shouts, competing with the loud music, and just barely – you almost want to drag him somewhere quieter, away from the DJ booth, but the longer you look at Jaehyun, taking in his wobbly, red-faced disposition, you realize he must be drunk. Trying to force him into any extended movement in his current condition would be futile.

“Thanks. Hey, have you seen Leehan?” you ask, skipping any pleasantries. You want to get an answer from his as quickly as possible before he becomes incoherent.

To your dismay, he shakes his head no. “He’s not coming. Told me he had a study date he was going to.”

You hope the absence of light outside from the shitty strobes obscures the expression of disappointment that is surely on your face right now, or even better that Jaehyun is too drunk to remember you asking this at all tomorrow morning.

“You’re not still interested in him, are you?” asks Jaehyun, the smallest glimmer of rationality breaking through his drunken fervor as he seems to be sincere in asking. You force a smile, wanting to get away from him as quickly as possible before he’s able to notice the difference.

“No, of course not,” you dismiss with a small laugh. You give Jaehyun a friendly pat on the arm before identifying where the drinks are so you can head there next. “Thanks for having me.”

Beelining for the punch table, you fill a red solo cup with a mixture of liquids from all three bowls and throw it down without investigating what you’ve just ingested. To your dismay, rather than dulling your emotions, the alcohol brings out your festering resentment. Towards Leehan, towards this entire situation.

Truthfully, with your own midterms looming and a mountain of late assignments you’ve allowed to pile up over the last few months as you prirotized sex with Leehan, it was against your every best interest to show up tonight.

You had checked your assignment-board this morning to discover that two essays worth 40% of your grade were due at 11:59 tonight.

A class you were already failing with a 60 was requiring you to submit revisions for a paper tonight, too.

And yet, you made the decision to come out tonight – promising yourself you’d make it home at a decent enough hour so that you could at least submit something – because of Leehan.

You were encouraged to wake up this morning and the morning before this morning because of your excitement at the notion of coming to this party with him by your side, wearing matching costumes and sharing drinks and hopefully spit by the end of the night, too.

If you were being completely honest, all of your days were beginning to feel like that — like the only thing you had to continuously look forward to was seeing or experiencing Leehan in some way shape or form.

Experiencing his laugh and his weird habit of bringing up the most random topics at the drop of a dime. Seeing his dimples pop out when he smiles at you and feeling like it’s the cutest thing in the world.

It’s becoming clear to you now that his absence has just as big — no, a bigger emotional impact that his presence does.

You’re angry because you know you didn’t create this excitement out of nowhere: he told you he wanted you to come to this party. You went solely because he said he was going to. If he didn’t want to come tonight, if he had plans, he could have warned you.

You’re angry at yourself for believing him.

Worst of all, you’re angry because he’s on a date and it confirms all of your biggest insecurities about you not being enough for him.

And it’s at this point that you acknowledge how woefully unequipped you were to say yes to the proposition he gave you the night of the lunar eclipse. Because if it means having to experience the profoundly soul-crushing reality of his disinterest in anything having to do with you other than quick, indulgent sex, you’d rather die a million times.

You feel your phone buzzing and reach into your bag to grab it unfeelingly. It’s a notification from Leehan. And as if you needed one more reason to feel like shit tonight, the nofication reads, Leehan questioned your message: hey i’m at the halloween store picking out costumes, what were you thinking?

You’re so tired of trying to analyze Leehan’s every action and gesture in an effort to convince yourself that maybe there’s some large reasoning behind his indifference. Instead of searching for any additional explanation behind in the question mark, you simply decide that he’s an asshole who had no intention of going out with you tonight.

And it’s with that steely acknowledgement that suddenly, you feel like you’re about to throw up all of the liquor you’ve just consumed. Taking a deep breath to stop yourself from spilling your guts right then and there, you decide it’s time to go home.

In your haste to leave the party, you don’t bother to try and yell excuse me to the 20 or so people blocking your way to the exit. You simply squeeze past who you can and push past who you can’t, not even caring to look back at those you shoulder check until you’re turned around by a pull against your forearm.

Face-to-chest with a figure you don’t immediately recognize, you body seizes up in fear, a condition that’s only slightly alleviated when you recognize the person’s voice as they exclaim in a deep voice, “ Whoa, whoa whoa . Hey, Y/N.”

It’s in slight annoyance that you look up to meet Leehan’s gaze, finding him staring down at you softly. It appears that he’s just walked into the party. In a space full of people dressed as mythical creatures, he looks out of place in his leather jacket and jeans, but also oh so attractive. His hair gathers in front of his face messily, the dark brown locks in a rare state of curliness. He doesn’t have to wear plastic horns to look devilish.

“Are you okay?” you hear him ask loudly over the sound of the music, his hand now resting on the apex of your arm. Feeling both defiant and embarrassed to tell him the true answer to his question – that no , you’re not okay because you foolishly thought you could count on him to be there for you when he said he would – you don’t answer.

And in a move that only contributes to the growing feeling that all Leehan truly cares about when it comes to you is sex, he doesn’t even allow you the time to answer, even if you wanted to. “You look pretty, angel ,” he says only seconds after his last remark, using both of his hands to smoothe down pieces of your hair messed up by your headband.

A compliment that would usually cause sparks to fly throughout your stomach now only annoys you, especially as you catch a whiff of fruity, feminine perfume on his body.

“You smell like someone else,” you tell him plainly, too drunk to hide what it is you’re thinking. And you can see that the remark and the resentful tone in which you say it takes him aback, even as he chuckles in an attempt to remain composed.

“Because I was driving for Uber, tonight, pretty,” he says, and before you have a chance to question his excuse, he continues by asking, “How much have you had to drink?”

“Why does that matter?” you retort with a scoff, convinced he’s about to try and spin this on you by suggesting your valid anger is a result of your drinking.

But then he puts on that signature smirk of his, those wretched dimples of his coming out as he leans down into your ear to say, “Because when I ask If I can take you to my room in about five minutes, I want to make sure I’m not taking advantage of you.”

Yout hate that those words and the implication of sex have you immediately aroused and pliant, even as you grapple with the feeling of being just a physical object to him.

Because as much as you dislike him right now for what he’s put you through emotionally, his renewed attention feels like the perfect solvent to your wounds.

“You wouldn’t be,” you reply softly, your voice coming out small and weak as you maintain unbroken eye contact with him.

“Yeah?” he replies almost mockingly, bringing a hand up to stroke your cheek. “Why do I get the feeling that you want me to take advantage of you?”

It feels like your mind and heart are on two different accords as your face remains passive and unaffected yet what comes out of your mouth is, “Take me to your room and find out.”

It’s less a feeling of shame but more like acceptance that comes over you as you follow Leehan back into the throes of the party, his hand leading you through the crowd of people and towards his bedroom.

Deep down, you know that the excuse he gave you earlier about his whereabouts was bullshit. Never once before has Leehan mentioned driving for Uber, and even if he did, it still wouldn’t justify his complete lack of regard for the plans you made and his lack of regard for you , refusing to notify you in advance that he wouldn’t be available.

But when faced with the proposition of sex, it seems foolish to deny it so that you can… what ? Continue to stew in feelings that will just leave you feeling empty, hurt, and worthless? Question him about being on a date when you know you have no right to?

Having sex will at least guarantee you a few moments of mind-numbing bliss, even if only a temporary high. Better that than have to face the reality of your own complicated nest of delusion.

As you’re let into Leehan’s room, hearing the sound of him closing the door shut behind you, you’re hit with the sudden realization that in the three months or so you’ve known him, you’ve never been in here before.

His room has all the markers of a college boy’s sense of taste – dark colored furniture and bedsheets, posters scattered on the wall with no real order, random piles of mess occupying corners of the room.

In a space that is otherwise unremarkable, your attention is piqued by a square, rectangular tank on top of his dresser.

“You have fish ,” you remark in a tone that is both matter-a-fact and questioning, something about your drunken state making you more curious than ever about the tank and it’s inhabitants.

Throwing his jacket onto a random chair, Leehan comes up next to you and lets out a chuckle as he takes in your awe-stricken expression. “For some reason, I forgot you haven’t been in here before,” he observes, and when he watches you just continue to stand still, eyes transfixed on the fish but still remaining a few feet away from the tank, he gestures for you to follow him to it. “C’mon. Sit.”

You can’t help the way that your limbs move eagerly and excitedly towards the tank, where Leehan pulls up two extra chairs for you both to sit and view it together.

Fish of all different sizes and shapes swim around in vibrant blurs of pink, orange and beige. You watch it all in awe, not sure if it’s because you’re tipsy or simply curious, and as Leehan explains what each type of fish is called, you hang onto every word.

“...this one is called a corydoras catfish. The rest of them are shrimp,” he explains, pressing his finger up against the tank as he points out each fish and the attributes that differentiate them from one another.

In one corner of the tank, a group of fish swim frantically around each other, as if fighting.

“Usually they come right up against the tank when I sit in front of them like this. I think they’re mad because I haven’t given them any fish food.”

“Don’t you need to feed them?” you ask in genuine concern, turning to look at Leehan who only smirks.

“Are you trying to imply that I’m a negligent father, Y/N?” he retorts dramatically, his body tensing in mock offense before he relaxes and explains, “Don’t worry. They’re supposed to eat the algae on the rock. For some reason, they’re just being hesitant.”

“Maybe the algae isn’t what they want,” you chime in with a reasoning tilt to your quiet, contemplative voice.

“Just because the fish food is what they want doesn’t mean I should give it to them,” Leehan retorts simply, and maybe it’s the drunk, cynical part of you that thinks he’s making reference to your relationship. That you’re the fish who just can’t help but want something it can’t have, and he’s the sensible overseer that remains in control of what you will receive.

But if Leehan is making some sort of larger, metaphorical reference to your relationship, he surely moves on from it quickly, becoming wistful and contemplative as he says, “I’ve been raising fishes all my life. Sometimes when I’m stressed I’ll just sit in front of the tank and talk to them.”

He presses his hand flat against the tank, his lips twitching into a prideful, paternal smile. “Because I know that unlike humans, they’ll never judge me.”

You find that your eyes never stray from the side of Leehan’s face as he talks, feeling almost like you’re a purveyor to this private, intimate moment he’s having. It feels like a privilege to be able to observe Leehan in moments like this where you’re given a genuine glimpse into his inner personhood.

But you’re pushed out just as quickly as you’re let in, watching as he promptly gets up from his seat by the tank and makes his way over to the bed. You turn your body in your chair to face him, and find that he’s now staring at you lustfully, gesturing for you to join him.

And as dismaying as it is to see him abandon the brief moment of emotional vulnerability just as quickly as it began, you stand up anyway, making your way to him.

Your movements toward him are slow, shy almost, and you can tell it pleases Leehan as you stand between his legs and are brought forward by his hands pushing at your lower back. He looks up at you, communicating wordlessly with just his sensual gaze how much he wants you. Your lingering anger from before stops you from making the first move, but even so, you don’t resist when he leans in to press a soft, steady kiss against your lips. Finding something almost apologetic about the innocent gesture, you put aside all of your inhibitions and decide to deepen the kiss, leaning your body fully into his and relishing in the groans he makes against your mouth.

Passion quickly bleeds into the both of your movements until you’re kissing in a crazed, frantic manner. His hands that previously only looped your hips now wander across the expanse of your back, and with one forceful tug, your zipper comes down your dress. You’ve only just allowed the fabric to slide down your shoulders before he’s pulling the dress down himself, exposing your nipples to the cold air before covering them with his hot mouth. Tongue swirling around your hardened nubs, you nuzzle a hand in his hair and throw your head back in contentment.

It’s with a wet pop that he pulls off of you, leaning upward to lock your lips once more. But because you're both incredibly and overwhelming horny, the kiss lasts for barely a few seconds before he’s pulling away to voice his plans for your body.

“Want you to sit on my face,” he mumbles, voice gruff and deep and dripping with desire. “Wanna put that pretty pussy of yours in my mouth.”

Smirking in reply, you rest your head against his, eyes closed as you weather the currents of several shocks of arousal that travel up your body and make your legs feel like jelly. “I want that, too,” you confess, your voice sounding wispy as your body loses the strength to be assertive. “Also kinda want your dick in my mouth.”

His eyes light up at this, and with a hand on your chin that brings your face level with his, he says, “How about this: You hop on my face, and I’ll let you suck my cock. Sound good?”

Something about Leehan’s enduring leadership has the effect of making you feel intimidated, so much so that all you manage is a shy nod in response to his words, which he luckily accepts without any further prompting. You’re better at speaking with your actions, anyway, knowing that there’s a wordless understanding in the way that you kiss him hard and passionately while your hands push him onto his back.

It’s with greedy, fast-moving hands that you strip him of his clothes, desperate for the instant bliss that is his mouth against your clit, the instant satisfaction that is his cum shooting down your throat. Once you have him fully naked, the fuzzy halo headband you’ve long forgotten about the only shared item of clothing between the two of you, you begin to adjust so that you may assume the required position.

But your movements are suddenly halted when Leehan sits up suddenly, muttering the word “Wait,” as he maneuvers the both of your bodies so that you now lay on the complete opposite side of the bed.

“That’s better,” he mumbles contentedly.

“What?”

“Just don’t want the fish to see what I’m about to do to you,” he replies, an answer so baffling that all you can do is laugh in reply. Your reaction barely phases him as he moves to drag your body onto his, and just like that, his kookiness is forgotten and your focus becomes tethered to the feeling of his breath against your awaiting pussy.

He blows a few teasing, cool breaths against your dripping core, and before he has the chance to make you succumb to the pleasure of his mouth, you reach out to begin your own enjoyment of his heavy, hard cock.

His member is veiny and substantial in your hands, reddened tip dripping with beads of precum that you lick away without thought of how it will impact Leehan. You feel his body seize with a jolt of pleasure from the direct contact with his most sensitive body part.

And as if trying to get payback, he begins his assault on your pussy by sucking your clit into his warm, wet mouth.

From there, it becomes a competition of wills, a battle to see who can be least distracted by the pleasure they’re receiving in order to make the other fold, or at the very least, reach their climax.

It’s a war you feel yourself pitifully losing as your drunken fervor somehow makes every casually overwhelming sensation feel 10x more heightened. You feel yourself inching closer and closer to release with each blissful flick of his tongue against your clit.

Still, not forgetting about Leehan and his pleasure, you fight through the mental haze of your own gratification and concentrate on making slow, purposeful pumps of his cock within the ring of your hand.

Sucking Leehan off is an activity you’ve gotten more than enough experience in to know what it takes to make him come. You gather all of the moisture in your mouth and wet his shaft with your spit. You press teasing, chaste kisses on his sensitive tip. You swirl your tongue in circles and continue stroking him with your hand.

And then, when you can feel his thighs tensing as he grows tired of your teasing, you offer him relief in the form of taking him fully in your warm mouth.

Leehan’s self control is impeccable, even as you’re bobbing your head up and down his cock. He drags his tongue through your folds and finds himself at your hole, licking up the arousal there and fucking you open with his tongue. The only sign he shows of his own impending release are in the groans that he lets out against your mound. You can feel something overwhelming begining to build in your stomach, and though your body tries to squirm away from it, he holds you against his face.

You pitifully moan with his cock fully lodged in your mouth, and with a few final thrusts of his tongue, the knot in your stomach comes undone. As your orgasm overwhelms you, it’s difficult to continue moving your head.

But Leehan’s too close to let his climax slip away from him, so it’s in desperation that he begins bucking his hips into your mouth at the same time he’s licking you through your orgasm. You just relax your jaw and let out restrained whimpers as Leehan fucks your mouth, not stopping until he finishes with a groan.

“My god, Y/N,” Leehan mutters breathily, turning you both on your sides, unraveling his limbs from yours until you’re no longer skin to skin. “We should do that position more often.”

You nod lazily in agreement, and with the little strength left in your limbs, you sit up to meet Leehan in the middle of the bed for a wet kiss.

The position is slightly awkward, the two of you laying in opposite directions, twisting your bodies unnaturally, but kissing each other is a habit so addictive that even as you’re pulling away, he pulls at your hair to bring you back in for just a few seconds longer.

It’s comforting to fall back down onto the bed and feel Leehan’s fingers gently caressing the skin of your ankle. In your sleepy, post-orgasm haze, you’re filled with a sudden surge of contement in regards to your decision to come here tonight.

You feel the fabric of a blanket kissing the sides of your body, and when you look over to find Leehan getting comfy in bed, it’s with satisfaction that you begin to do the same.

But then, the blanket you were just about to pull onto your body is snatched off of your skin, and when you look over at Leehan, you see him tucking himself in with a sleepy, content smile on his face. It’s just as you’re sitting up that he flutters his eyes closed, and with a sleepy tilt to his voice he says, “Hey, if you see Jaehyun on your way out, can you ask him to call me? I wanna know what time he plans on ending this.”

There’s a second after those words hit your ears where you’re not sure if you misheard him, slow to move from where you are in his bed. But as the implications of the statement hit you horrifically and all at once, it’s with a heavy feeling of shame weighing down your body that you reply, “Sure,” going to gather your discarded things from the floor.

The humiliating act of putting on your clothes after being dismissed so casually is almost instantaneously sobering. You catch a view of yourself in the display of your phone and notice that your plastic halo headband has been bent 90 degrees, likely from how rough you were. Your hair is strewn in every direction. Your mascara is smeared and ruined, running down your cheeks in squiggly, broken lines.

You’re a mess. He made you a mess for the sake of his pleasure. And instead of cleaning you up, Leehan has essentially just kicked you out onto the street.

Only Leehan could cause such a dramatic shift between feeling like you were safe and desired to feeling like you’re just a worthless speck of nothing attached to the bottom of his shoe.

It’s just as you’re about to open the door to leave that you hear him call your name, and with your back turned to him, a hopeful part of you thinks that maybe, just maybe, he’ll say he changed his mind and wants you to stay.

But instead, as if to turn the knife in more, when you turn around, you find him staring boredly at his phone.

Instead of regret on his face, you see neutrality.

And instead of asking you to stay, he just says, “Thanks so much by the way. For the sex and the favor.”

It’s with a forced, robotic sense of calmness that you’re replying. “No problem, Leehan.”

And then you leave his room, never feeling so profoundly insignificant than you do in this moment.

There’s nothing quite worse than waking up with a terrible hangover, a panging feeling of emotional emptiness, and then having to send a string of desperate emails to your professors asking for deadline extensions. But that’s exactly what you do in the aftermath of the Halloween party, and by the grace of all things holy, you’re granted an extra few days to get your assignments in.

So grateful for the chance to resuscitate your failing GPA, you focus your efforts on finishing your assignments and almost forget about the cause of such misfortune, until you’re reminded when your phone suddenly buzzes with a text.

>leehan: what are you doing?

Messages of this sort usually have the effect of leaving you excited and giddy in anticipation of Leehan’s inevitable arrival to your doorstep. But now, all you feel is annoyance as you read the text and plague yourself over what to say.

You type and delete several versions of a response that ultimately boils down to i’m too busy trying not to fail all of my classes which i wouldn’t be failing if it weren’t for all of the time i spend either thinking about you or fucking you , but in the end, you resolutely decide not to respond at all.

In fact, in a move surely colored by the resentment you’ve allowed to grow for far too long now, you turn on read receipts so he knows you chose to disregard him on purpose.

You then continue typing away at one of the three essays that are past due, hoping you can forget about Leehan and return to the focus you had before receiving the message and being reminded of the past week’s events. You’re pleased when you look up after a few moments to see that an hour has passed and your attention hasn’t lingered.

Just as you open a new tab to begin the reading for your second essay, the indistinguishable sound of a knock at your door stirs your attention otherwise.

You look around your shared dorm space. Your roommate went home for break already and hasn’t been here for the past few days. Assuming she communicated that to her friends, you know whoever’s on the other side of the door shouldn’t be for her.

It could be an RA, though you couldn’t imagine why.

Deciding to confront your curiosity head on, you get up to open the door and feel your eyes widen when it’s Leehan leaning against the doorframe.

Dressed comfortably in a hoodie and cargo pants, he looks up to greet you, smirking at the sight of your looming silhouette. “Hello,” he says casually, as if his sudden appearance was known to you before now.

There’s a strange mixture of excitement and dread that swirls inside of you the moment you see him. Because on one hand, just a look from him is something that gives you uncontrollable butterflies. You truly do like being around Leehan. But you feel like you have no control over the fact that you will let him in, even though you have every reason not to.

He’ll fuck you, give you some of the best pleasure of your life, and will leave right afterwards, making you feel shitty.

You’ll exerience the greatest high followed by the greatest low.

And already in anticipation of how terrible you’ll feel in the aftermath of this inevitable scenario, it’s as if you’re body is already making space for the knife that will surely tear through your heart when this ends.

“What are you doing here?” you ask, though you already have a strong feeling what the answer will be.

He’ll play coy, changing the subject by asking another question in response to your question.

“Aren’t you gonna let me in?” he says next, even though you both know the true reason why he’s come.

And because you like to feel like you have even the smallest semblance of control over the situation, you don’t give in to him easily, making a face of mock contemplation before replying, “Not if you don’t answer the question first.”

“Did you know that peppermint dwarf angelfish require a very specific type of fish food?” he asks, and because you’re so used to these divertive, weird diatribes he’s always so inclined to go on, all you can do is try and follow along. “I had to come all the way up here to find the only shop in Korea that sells it. And while I was already up here, I figured it wouldn’t hurt to stop by your dorm and say hi.”

You tilt your head as you stare at him, considering bitterly whether he could be telling the truth or not.

But of course, his serious expression quickly melts into a smirk as he explains himself. “I’m kidding, Y/N. Not about the fishes, but about why I’m here. I wanted to see you, so I came.”

There’s something that’s really disgustingly cocky and self-centered about him just showing up to your door without warning with the unsaid though obvious expectation of sex.

And yet, would he be wrong to have that expectation, when so many times before you’ve let him for that exact purpose?

He must be able to see the conflicting thoughts you’re having reflected on your expression, because from behind his back, he reveals a bouquet of flowers. You don’t know how you didn’t notice he was holding them until now, a colorful array of peonies and roses with, upon further inspection, a bunch of cardboard fishes placed among the petals.

You can’t help but smile as you take them from him.

“I brought flowers?” he says, his voice titled in an expression of this being an olive branch, his way of expressing apology, though for what you don’t know. For showing up here unannounced? For putting you through so much obvious emotional turmoil? You’re not sure.

There is something at least a little romantic about him boldly showing up at your doorstep instead of waiting for you to respond to his text. Though, through another, more cynical lens, you could also call it kind of creepy. Should you go with the latter interpretation, you know you would be sending the worse kind of message by letting him in anyway. You’d essentially be confirming to him that this relationship is on his terms, that he can show up to your place whenever he wants to get his dick wet, regardless of if you’re busy like you are now.

But isn’t that what this has always been between the two of you? Once again, you feel helpless in the face of the unbounding energy his presence causes. You can only watch the rest of the nights events play out like a bad movie you’ve seen far too many times, like you’re a witness from outside your own body and life.

You walk away from Leehan, leaving your door open so he knows he can come in. You place the flowers neatly on the table next to the entrance. It’s when you face the kitchenette of your dorm that you realize just how cluttered the place is; too stressed about your schoolwork, you haven’t put any thought into keeping it clean.

“Sorry,” you mutter sheepishly under your breath as you hear Leehan come in and close the door behind him. “It’s kind of a mess in here.”

He chuckles, as if to agree without having to say it plainly and hurt your feelings. You turn to face him and find that he’s already looking at you, a penetrating expression on his face as he asks, “Are you okay?”

You’ve never found that question as hard to answer as it is right now, especially when it’s his voice doing the questioning.

Should you say that you’re on the verge of failing all of your classes, a circumstance you’ve never once had to worry about until he came into your life, causing a whirwhild of uncontainable emotions to take over your life?

That you’ve been questioning everything when it comes to your own self-esteem and worthiness because it feels like you’re nothing if you’re not validated by the fleeting yet addicting warmth of his gaze and attention?

In the time that it takes you to think, you realize that Leehan has come closer, his body in front of you so that now you can’t escape from the kitchen counter against your back that blocks you in completely. Dazed by the proximity of him, you forget what you were asked, and are grateful when he doesn’t press you for an answer. It’s better for both of you if you don’t respond, anyway, because your honesty would surely kill the mood.

“You know what might make you feel better?” he asks, and you fight back a cynical giggle at the fact that he doesn’t even have to hear you say it to know that you need to be made better. “Fucking the shit out of me.”

As always, his moments of sudden candor simultaneously make you laugh and cringe because of how ill-fitting they are to the persona he occupies in your mind. You’ve always liked how awkward and strange Leehan is, which is why his fuckboy tendencies have always landed uneasily for you.

It becomes too easy, then, to tease him by pretending you didn’t hear his outward expression of desire. “I don’t like the way you look at people,” you say, trying your hand at his usual divertive tactics. “It’s like you can see through them.”

You can always appreciate how even when you sidestep his advances, Leehan always plays into your banter, never pressuring you into action. “It’s because I can. BOO!” he exclaims, mouth open in an o shape as he childishly expresses fright. You muster a laugh at his playfulness.

After that, you’re both silent, and you know it’s because you’re both tired of playing games. You’re at the point now where it becomes obvious in both of your piercing gazes that you want to fuck, and now it’s just about who will make the move first.

Suddenly conscious of Leehan’s long hair and how it hangs over the sides of his face, you reach your arms up to take pieces of it into your hands. There’s a rubber band on your wrist that you use to try and put it in a ponytail so you can see his features better, but before you can finish, he takes the opportunity of your increased closness to kiss you.

The intensity of his kiss knocks the air out of your lungs, and you let go of his hair before you can finish tying it up. Because of your close proximity, it falls over the sides of your own face, obscuring the rest of the world from you so that it’s just him in your vision.

His hands rest on the apex of your hips, and he pushes you slightly so that you’re completely backed up against the kitchen counter. You’d thought you’d feel more urgent, but your movements are leisurely as you bring your hands to his hoodie and begin to pull at the buttons holding it together. As the fabric begins to sag off his arms, he starts kissing at your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to accommodate him.

Once his shirt has fallen to the ground, you then work to release his cock from the confines of his pants, pushing at the thankfully loose waistband until it springs out against his naked stomach. You jerk him slowly and leisurely but it causes him to groan into your mouth just the same, and soon he’s moving to unbutton your own t-shirt until you’re both naked from the waist up.

“Leehan,” you whimper, as he cups your tits with both hands, “Bed.”

“Which one? I take it your roommate’s is empty?” he replies jokingly, and when you stare at him scathingly, he chuckles. “I’m kidding. Don’t look at me like that or I’ll come in my pants.”

You have no chance to scold Leehan for his teasing any further before he’s picking you up off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist and hands around his neck as he walks habitually to your bedroom. He’s still on top of you even as you feel yourself being lowered onto your bed, mouth on yours in a sloppy kiss while his hands rush to get your pants off. He sits up to kick his own off, and now the two of you are left completely naked.

This would usually be the point where the two of you would become like animals and rush to fuck as soon as possible. But while standing above your body, you watch as Leehan just stares at your still figure on the bed, taking in every detail with his penetrative, admiring eyes.

“I find you so beautiful,” he softly confesses, caressing the skin on your hip before looking up to meet your shy gaze. “Do you know that?”

It’s unclear whether he’s asking if you know that you’re beautiful, or if you know that he finds you beautiful. Either way, it’s in a moment of sincere honesty that you reply, “Only sometimes.”

Because there are days when you look in the mirror or put on your clothes on your way to campus and feel like your body is less of a home, but a prison that you’re forever doomed to occupy.

And with the emotional rollercoaster that is having sex with Leehan only for him to completely ignore you afterward, you’ve naturally found yourself wondering if the only alluring thing about you is that you’ll let him fuck you with no questions asked. That in a school full of beautiful girls with actual self-esteem, he’s settled for you so long as you continue to provide him with pussy.

Leehan furrows his eyebrows at your response, and with a corrective tone of voice replies, “ Always .” In movements that are slow and gentle, he leans down to lay a chaste kiss on your forehead. Another on the top of your cheek. Another on your ear. And then on every single part of your face that you’d normally consider insignificant. And then slowly down your rising and falling torso.

“Everything about you. I couldn’t pick a favorite thing because I love every single part of you,” he confesses in a whisper-like tone against your skin. Finally reaching your pussy, he places one last gentle kiss at the top of your mound, something about the gesture making your pussy clench, espeically as he says, “You’re my favorite girl.”

To be affirmed by Leehan in this way is something that causes both your heart to swell and your body to pulse with arousal. But it’s also with a surge of sadness that you wish these words didn’t affect you so monumentally.

A part of you wants him to stop making remarks of this sort to you during sex because you can never be sure that he truly means them.

But if that’s the case, then why do they feel and sound so genuine?

It’s with shaky resoluteness in your voice that you sit up to look at Leehan, replying, “Then show me.”

And, as if spurred on by the challenge, you can see Leehan’s expression changing even with half of his face obscured by your pussy. “How?” he asks, leaning in to lick teasingly against your clit. “Like this?”

When he doesn’t wait for your answer and continues sucking and licking against your clit, you throw your head back as you enjoy the physical manifestations of Leehan’s attraction to you.

If there is any time when you feel most desired and liked by him, it’s when he’s in between your legs, devouring you whole like a man starved.

He uses his mouth not to tell you sweet-nothings, but to give you some of the best pleasure of your life. And it’s in gestures like these where you can wordlessly understand his devotion to you.

It’s in your desperation to reach your peak that you begin to buck your hips into his mouth, wanting more of him, but he stops it with both hands that snake up your body and press down on your boobs. He tweaks at your nipples in a way that makes your back arch, but in a gesture that surprises you, he also just rests his hand over your chest, right where your heart is. You wonder if he can feel the fluctuations of your pulse, how it speeds up when his tongue does. Dreamily, the thought of him being so in sync with you that he can feel the intimate beatings of your inner organ sends you into a spiral of heightened satisfaction.

“Leehan, I’m gonna come.”

Even with your eyes closed, you can almost hear the smirk in his voice as he says, “My favorite four words in the world. Go ahead, baby. I’ve got you.”

Somehow, you think your body needed that permission, because it’s only moments later that your orgasm takes over your body.

Your eyelids are covered with dancing spirals, your spine bends as you arch up into the air, and your body vibrates with a feeling so pleasurable it’s like an addiction, something you’d endure the greatest emotional lows to receive on a regular basis.

As you still, Leehan gets up to sit on his knees, looking over at your bedside dresser. “Still have the condoms where I left them?”

“Top drawer,” you confirm.

“Good girl,” he praises with a smile, reaching over you to rummage through the drawer and coming out of it with a silver packet between his fingers.

It’s just as he’s finished putting it on and is about to slide in that you raise a hand to stop him, saying, “Leehan wait. I wanna ride you.”

His eyebrows raise at this, but he nonetheless maneuvers so that he’s in a criss-cross position, saying with a grin, “Woah. I feel lucky. You never get on top. Make me do all the work.”

“Shut up,” you grumble, making your way over to him and holding onto his shoulders as you hover over his hardened cock. But before you can take him, he roughly grabs your chin, squeezing your face in his hold in a way that forces your eyes on his.

“Make me,” he asserts, staring at you so intensely that it makes your stomach swoop. Reaching between your bodies, you grab hold of his pulsing erection and line it up with your hole, sinking down on him and loving the way it makes both of your mouths instantly open on impact.

It feels like you’re being split open in the most pleasurable way as you sit down fully on Leehan’s cock and allow the satisfcation of being filled by him to consume you. Driven by the pursuit of your own pleasure, you bounce, swivel, and thrust yourself against him. And when Leehan throws his head back, beautiful neck on display as he growls, “You’re so tight, Y/N,” you’re motivated to go even harder.

Sex with Leehan has never felt more intimate than it does now, when you’re above him and able to catch every small distortion in his gorgeous expression as he gets taken away by the gratification of this sex. Mantaining eye contact with him is nothing new to you now, but even so, you find yourself feeling like his eyes are admiring your soul more than they are your body or face as you bounce up and down for his viewing pleasure.

With your arms wrapped around his neck, you’re skin to skin, heart to heart, and in a way you almost feel like the closeness grants you the telepathic ability to know what he’s feeling and thinking. If there were to be a physical manifestation of the word yearning , it would be this exact moment between the two of you.

Your expression melts into a smirk as you continue to ride him, and you feel almost motivated to giggle as the pleasure you’re experiencing makes you feel deliriously satisfied and happy. Leehan, with his hands leisurely rested at his sides, scans your face as if trying to memorize every detail, saying, “You make the prettiest expressions when my dick is inside of you. I truly can’t – nphhh – get enough.”

It’s as you begin to set a pace that has the tip of his cock kissing your g-spot with every bounce that you yearn for him to touch you, to light your skin on fire with the warmth of his touch. Anywhere. Everywhere. “Leehan, touch me .”

And it’s because he’s come to know your body so well, know exactly what makes you tick and what places to touch that have you crying in pleasure, he brings his hand to your clit and starts rubbing incoherent shapes into your swelling bud. Your body feels like it’s on fire, so much so that you begin to lose strength in your trembling thighs, something Leehan picks up on as he says almost desperately, “Faster, Y/N. Take it.”

You have to fight through the strain in your legs and the building tension in your stomach in order to begin bouncing on Leehan so hard it’s as if your life depends on it. And though it feels like it’s taking all of the energy in your body, you do it because you want to make him feel good.

You do it because you want him to continue thinking of you as his favorite girl, even though that statement in itself implies the existence of other girls.

Even though it feels like every morsel of your self-esteem is shattered in the process, you do it because his attention means so much to you that it blurs everything else.

“ Fuck , I’m gonna come,” you cry out as the pleasure becomes too much, as it begins to feels like everything else in your vision is obscured except for Leehan.

“Open your mouth,” you hear him say, and although your sex-crazed mind can barely comprehend why he’s asking you that, you comply anyways and feel your arousal growing stronger when, to your surpise, he tips your head back with a hand on your jaw and spits into your mouth.

The gesture is dirty and lewd and yet a moan rips out of you just the same, and the closer that your orgasm inches, the less you feel like you’re in control of your body or your reactions. Every thought and will in your brain has been diluted so that your only objective is to reach your peak.

“You like that, pretty?” he asks teasingly, his own orgasm approaching in a way that causes his voice to come out strained and tight. “Let me see what a dirty girl you are. Come all over my cock.”

Whimpers of his name leave your mouth in broken succession, the robustness of your orgasm milking you until your body quite literally collapses against his. And it’s after giving everything that your body could give, your legs trembling and your body screaming out in exhaustion, that Leehan takes over by thrusting wildly up into you. In search of his own climax, you can only whimper weakly into the skin of his neck and allow him to manhandle your limp body up and down his cock.

“I know, I know,” he coos apolgetically in your ear, fucking up into you hard and firmly. “I”m close. Gonna come inside your pretty little pussy.”

With a last thrust so impactful that it resonates throughout your entire body, Leehan releases into his condom, twisting his hips inside of you before pulling out with a groan. You collapse onto the bed together, and even though you can barely feel anything in the bottom half of your body, even though you have the foreboding inclination that it’ll be hard to walk later, you still can’t help the foolish smile that appears automatically on your face. There is no greater high than basking in your post-orgasm haze.

The stillness of the moments you share after sex is something you cling onto every time, wishing that the universe would mercifully turn those seconds of blissful and intimate silence between the two of you into minutes. But like the distant sound of thunder that lets you know that it’s going to rain, you feel the bed dip with the weight of Leehan sitting up, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he sees himself out.

“You made a mess,” you hear him say as he picks at the fabric of your sheets where, sure enough, the white sheets have been soiled grey. The comment gives you slight butterflies, and as you manage a weak smile, about to reply with something snarky, he says, “Want me to stay behind? Do your laundry?”

If only for a few seconds, you allow yourself to consider the possibility that he’s being serious. That for the first time since you met him, he’s actually going to stay behind and take care of you instead of leaving you wet and limp and naked and sad. You hate how good those few seconds of belief feel. That just the idea of how doing something as simple as your laundry could make you feel so fulfilled and wanted.

At first you’re not sure what to think when he leans down to gently caress the hair on top of your head. But then, with an almost pitying expression on his face, he replies, “I’m just joking. If I hang around for too long, how would you miss me?”

There have been lots of times when Leehan has shown his lack of regard for you in his actions, but never in his words.

So to hear him plainly confirm to you that this is all a game to him, that it’s always been his intention to leave you strung out and wanting more, that he knows the emotional impact his absence causes, hits you like a slap in the face.

He doesn’t have to hide how little he cares about you because he knows that no matter how he treats you, you’ll always come back.

Haven’t you proven that exact notion to him time and time again?

“See you later, Y/N,” he says as he’s leaving your bedroom, a statement that he can make with confidence because you’ve shown him time and time again that he can walk all over you and still be guaranteed access to your body, mind and soul.

And as the reality of the situation that you’ve found yourself in hits you all at once, it’s at the sound of your front door closing that you begin to cry on impact.

Tears that feel endless begin to pour out onto your cheeks until you’re open-mouthed sobbing, and because you’ve spent so long holding these emotions back, they wreck your body until you have no energy left and devolve into soundless heaves.

You fall asleep like this, so emotionally wrecked and confused that you forgot about the three essays you were supposed to submit.

You’re on the verge of tears as you enter your advisor’s office, sitting down across from the older woman whose passive expression tells you everything you need to know about the sort of news she’s about to deliver to you. But it’s with surprising clarity that you react to her saying, “Y/N, you’ve failed almost every single one of your classes this term.”

You stare blankly at her, processing the emotions that come over you at this news. It’s suprsing to say that the immediate feeling that comes over you is relief, but you owe it to the fact that you’ve been struggling this entire semester, plagued with anxiety as to whether or not you’d fail. And so, to have it finally confirmed after months of stressing about it feels similarly to being in the eye of a storm.

After struggling for so long, you’re at a vantage point where it feels more comforting to be able to say that all that’s left is for you to fight your way out of the storm entirely.

“Typically, when students have such large and sudden drops in performance like this, it’s because of some significant life event,” she explains, tilting her head as she looks at you pitifully. “Given that you’re a transfer student, I’m wondering if the transition from your old school to this one had an impact on your performance. Are you finding the academic rigor here harder?”

“No, maam,” you say, shaking your head. Academically, this school has been everything you had been hoping for and more since deciding to transfer. You couldn’t have expected to meet someone who so greatly turned your life around within a matter of months.

Not sure how to explain the unique set of circumstances leading up to this moment, you vaguely answer, “I’ve just…transparently had a lot going on this semester in my personal life. So I haven’t been as great at prioritizing my classes.”

Humming in understanding, your advisor moves to face her computer. “Well, I’m afraid the next steps are to put you on academic probation for the rest of this semester. Are you aware of what that all entails?”

You shake your head no. Your advisor goes on to explain it to you. “You’ll need to maintain at least a 2.5 grade point average moving forward. Additionally, you’ll be given a tutor – another student who you’ll be mandated to meet with at least once a week to get your grades up.”

There a few telltale clicking sounds from her computer before she’s speaking up again to say, “It looks like the only available tutor for this semester is a student named Han Taesan. Do you know him?”

Admittedly only familiar with the few people who Jaehyun’s introduced you to, you shake your head no. You then have to try and push off the dread that builds inside of you at the thought of having to meet with a stranger once a week for the next two or so months until the semester ends.

You perk up as you watch your advisor’s eyebrows lift in surprise at something on her computer “It looks like he actually has office hours open right now until three. So, after this, I recommend you go see him and introduce yourself. It’s important that you get started right away so that you can begin correcting this situation. The last thing we’d want is for your financial aid to be affected, which – I should mention – will happen if you fail your classes again, Y/N.”

It’s at this warning that the reality of the situation finally hits you.

As stupid as it now sounds, all of the times when you allowed Leehan to take up so much of your time in lieu of submitting your assignments were aided by a blind faith on your part that everything would work out in the end.

But it’s in grave realization that you see how much you were gambling with your future by making such poor decisions.

And with that feeling of shame and embarrassment weighing down on you so heavily, you leave your advisor's office a few short moments later, heading to the library to meet Taesan.

As you’re leaving, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket and unlock it to read a text that could not be more ill timed:

>leehan: what are you doing?

There couldn’t be any worse moment now than to receive such a message, after you’ve just been told that you could potentially lose your scholarship over your mindless decision making in regards to this man. And for perhaps the first time since you’ve met Leehan, you decide to let go of this manic-pixie-dream-girl image you’ve created for yourself, typing out a message that relays the completely honesty of your current situation.

>you: leehan, i failed my midterms. They’re putting me on academic probation and i might lose my scholarship. I don’t know that i’ll have much time for our “arrangement” anymore.

You stuff your phone back in your pocket right after sending it, caring little to know what Leehan will say in response.

It’s in realization that you finally decide that making Leehan’s every thought, feeling and desire a priority in your life is a luxury you can no longer afford.

Arriving at the library a few minutes later, you wa;lw inside and observe how empty the place is. You suppose it makes sense given that most students have left for their fall break by now, not beholden to stay behind because of failing grades like you are. There’s a boy sitting by himself at one of the many tables in the library, a laptop and a few books surrounding him. You decide he’s the most likely to be the person you’re looking for and go up to approach him.

“Excuse me, are you Han Taesan?”

The boy, whose hair is uniquely marked by a streak of blonde in the back of it, looks up at you and nods.

“I’m not sure if you got the notification,” you say, pulling at your fingernails nervously. “But I’ve been assigned a tutor and you’re it. My advisor told me to meet with you today.”

Understanding finally dawning on the boy’s face, he puts down the screen of his laptop so he can fully pay attention to you and your presence. “Okay. What’s your name?”

“Y/N.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, and even though everything from his voice and manners should have you inclined to feel less nervous, there’s something about his facial features that have you feeling intimidated.

He’s quite good looking, but in a way that makes him seem unapproachable.

“If you’ve been assigned to meet with me, that means you’re on academic probation, correct?”

Something about hearing those words, the assignment of your name next to the phrase academic probation , feels like a knife to the stomach. Still, the only thing you can do is nod grimly, and without intending it, you launch defensively into an explanation. “It’s not something I’m in the habit of, if that’s what you’re wondering. This is my first time, truly, and it’s just because I had a lot going on this semester.”

You expect Taesan to appear annoyed with you, just as you are with yourself when you hear those words leave your mouth. But you’re surprised when instead, he smiles. And when he does, it’s like the intimidating persona you built of him in your head immediately shatters and in place of it, you’re introduced to someone that seems really sweet.

“Listen, I know you’re probably feeling like a total failure right now. I know cause I’ve been there. But you don’t have to explain yourself to me, Y/N. The last thing I want to do is make you feel judged for something that so many students go through,” he explains, shrugging his shoulders to further communicate how little of an issue this is for him.

“Most of the time, the people I tutor don’t even need me. They’re not dumb, they just were going through something that made them deprioritize their classes. We’ve all been there before. I’m just here to be an accountability partner and help you manage the stress.”

Fighting against all the parts of you that have been feeling shame in response to today’s development, you allow Taesan’s reassurance to wash over you like a cold drink on a swelteringly hot day.

“You’re…really nice, Taesan,” you reply, thinking of no better way to express your gratitude. “I really needed to hear that.”

“No problem. If you’re free, we can go somewhere else and begin working on those late assignments. I don’t really like staying at the library because we’ll be forced to whisper like this the whole time.”

It’s only at his observation that you become conscious of the fact that you have been indeed whispering this entire time, and it is in fact, very burdensome. “Yeah, you’re totally right. Are you cool with coming to my dorm? I live on campus, in Commons.”

Grabbing his things, he gets up to follow you, and it’s at that moment that you realize just how tall Taesan is. “Sure. Let’s do it.”

Just as you’re about to leave with Taesan, you feel your phone buzzing in your pocket once more. And because you completely forgot about your earlier exchange with Leehan, you don’t even consider that the message could be from him until a picture that you’re immediately swiping out of lights up your phone screen.

>leehan: he misses you :((((( [img_6785]

The image in question is a dick pic, a full frontal image with Leehan’s smartly masked face just barely peeking out at the top as he angles his phone downward.

You go from surprised to disgusted as you remember what the picture is in response to – a candid expression of anxiety about your academic probabtion – and suddenly, you couldn’t be more sure of the negative impact that Leehan has had on your life.

More sure that if you never heard from him after today, it would be the universe's greatest gift.

“Are you okay?” asks Taesan from beside you, and it’s with great gratitude that you observe his reaction is not that of someone who accidentally saw a dick pic on someone elses phone. Steeling yourself from the shock of the unexpected message, you hum an affirmative sounding noise in reply, and with that, you exit the library.

You walk together to your dorm that’s only 5 minutes away from the library, and as you walk, you discuss a variety of things. How and why Taesan became a tutor, the circumstances which led to you transferring from your old school, and observations on how empty campus seems to be right now. Taesan, a music major, became a tutor once he learned he could get paid for what he already liked to do, which was teach people. The more you talk to him, the more assured you feel about this arraignment and your situation at large.

More importantly, Taesan has the ability to do something you thought no man or object could be capable of – he takes your mind off of Leehan, and moreover the picture you just received from him.

Arriving at your front door, you can feel Taesan’s eyes on you as he says, “When I started my day today, I would’ve never guessed it would lead me to a girl’s dorm room.” You giggle at the genuinely funny joke, and now, you’re looking up at Taesan as if you’re fully seeing him for the first time.

In just a short amount of time, you’re learned that Taesan is handsome, smart, nice, and funny.

Perhaps something other than good grades could come of this time you’re about to spend together.

In the time that you spend looking at Taesan, still smiling in the aftermath of his joke as you let him into your dorm room, you don’t notice the fact that Leehan is waiting for you down the hallway, armed once more with a bouquet of flowers.

After last time, he figured surprise visits would be his thing now, especially since he knew your roommate wouldn’t be there to stop him.

He wasn’t expecting, though, that there would be someone else who would act as a barrier between the two of you.

Someone who causes unexplainable anger and resentment to blossom unusually in his chest.

It’s in a blur of confusion – both at himself for reacting this way and at you for being with someone other than him – that Leehan turns around and rushes for the building’s exit before either of you can see him.

part 4 can be found HERE

taglist: @lailols @papichulomacy @0310s @softiwoon @gardenforwon @cherrytaesan @mryuyux @saintriots @lonelylandofan @cyber-tiny @keyywrld @isabellah29 @amarecerasus @cadidupped

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#leehan #boynextdoor #leehan smut #boynextdoor smut #leehan x reader #leehan fluff #leehan angst #boynextdoor fics #hornychristianprincess #donghyun boynextdoor #boy next door smut #donghyun smut #donghyun boy next door smut #kpop smut #kpop angst #kpop fluff #i literally blinked and suddenlly i was at 15k words lol

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hoseoksluna · 5 months

Text

WHITE | jjk

pairing: boyfriend!jungkook x wine!oc

genre: smut

word count: 8.1k

summary: craving white wine, your boyfriend would do anything for you—even let you dom him.

pinterest board: wine

warnings: alcohol consumption, wine!oc is dominant and she's enjoying it, plushie used in a sexual intercourse, dd/lg, jk is desperate and so horny, hand job, oral sex (m. + f. receiving), fingering, squirting, raw sex, the importance of sex being imperfect, use of sex toys — yes, plural, dirty talk, spanking, face riding

note: i'm genuinely sorry for this—SDFKJDSLFJDSLFJS. this is the last wine drabble <3 i loved writing about them again, ugh i missed my babies so much. would you, guys, also like me to write two drabbles about the steam series? i feel like it would only be fair like this. vote in the poll below, pwease. <3 hope you like this last installment.

Your boyfriend has an immense, insane amount of energy.

You have partly yourself to blame. It’s Saturday night, summer at full blast and you felt it thrumming so deeply and intensely within your veins that you found yourself craving your most favored mood-lifter in the world.

White wine.

You’ve almost spent every weekend drinking myriads of different alcoholic beverages, but the white nectar is something you’ve quite neglected. Well, not so much as neglected, but forgotten about entirely. The last time you drank it, you and Jungkook were on far, far different terms. Fuck buddies with a degradation kink, skipping a party because you got horny again. You wonder if things would’ve turned out the same way if you hadn’t decided to spice up your getting ready time with that drink. Would it change the course of events that led him to confess his feelings for you? Would you have allowed yourself to fall for him, had he not made you drunk with his allure?

You only had to mention your thirst and Jungkook was quick to get up to his feet, take his keys, phone and wallet and he was out the door before you could say anything else. Your fond giggles vibrated across the room—so much that Bam lifted his head and jumped on your lap and so you spent the remaining time alone cuddling with the canine friend, catching up in your lovey-dovey dog language, kissing him all over until you dolled him up with red lipstick marks.

He looked so good. Was happy about it, too, because when his Daddy came back, he was similarly quick to show him.

And Jungkook, he laughed so hard that he clutched his own stomach, doubled over, his shoulders shaking. Then, he sat next to you on the couch, pulled you in for a hug as if he hadn’t seen you in years and very solemnly told you that it was his turn now.

The words that tumbled out of you were so swift, without any kind of embrace of thought beforehand, that you didn’t have the time to consider the consequences they would come with until they dazzled you. Through and through, ridding you of your sense of sight.

“You’ll get your kisses only if you show me that you bought the wine.”

Jungkook’s eyes grew in size, darkened in nightly fashion. Twinkles flickering, dimly. The atmosphere, the dynamic and energy shifted, folding into something you haven’t yet experienced in such depth, calming your eyes until they blended back into normalcy. And you wouldn’t perceive it for what it truly was, had Jungkook not wordlessly left to fetch his bag from the convenience store, along with a corkscrew and two glasses, and had he not crouched in front of you.

The view left you stunned. The blatantly obvious fact, too.

The fact that, somehow, you were in control.

And it was so different from the last time due to a simple reason. Jungkook wasn’t the one who initiated it. Didn’t tell you to be in charge. Didn’t give you his control in words, in commands. No, it happened arbitrarily, on its own and Jungkook submitted to it. Submitted to you. Put down his control once he lowered his form between your knees, giving it to you this way, silently.

A thing of utter beauty, filling you up with vibrancy, enthusiasm and… passion.

He showed you his haul, unloading it onto your lap. Sparkling white wine in a golden bottle, dog treats, cheese and crackers and… Miffy.

Miffy in a way you haven’t seen her before.

Made into a sleeping position. Black eyes shut, round butt risen in the air, even rounder tail perked, body soft and drowsy. Bigger than the bunny resting alone on his bed in the other room.

You purred, squeezing her hard before you hugged her to your chest, careful not to smear your makeup on her when you pushed her up to your neck. Looked at your quite small boyfriend with a ravening gaze as you said, “You got bunny a sister, how cute. Well done.”

Your praise coaxed a noise out of Jungkook that you never heard before, one that stirred the eternally slumbering beast in you that had not once seen the night enveloping you. A concoction, most delicious and arousing, of a whimper and a hum. It settled within your core, teasing you there, making you want more. You told him, or the beast more like, to open the wine and he obeyed, right away.

You watched him do it. Watched the flexing of his muscles, tense beneath the fabric of his tiger-print shirt. Watched him not spill a drop and then pour you a glass until it almost overflowed. He handed it to you, expecting you to take it from him, but you caught him off guard.

“Taste it for me first.”

His mouth fell agape. Remained parted when he immediately brought the glass to his lips and took a large sip. Your eyes followed the bobble of his throat as he swallowed and you gave him a big smile for it. A praise, too.

“Good. Let me have a sip now, my hands are full.”

In typical fashion, he drew close to you until your knees squeezed him in, legs wrapping around his torso. One hand wrapped around your hip, the other tipped the glass to your mouth and you looked at him and did not stop until you took a big gulp.

“More.”

He tipped it again. “Tastes good?”

You nodded, liking the sweetness and the fizziness, but this time you didn’t swallow the nectar. Jungkook set the glass down, along with his haul, averting his gaze momentarily and you cupped his chin, bringing it back to you. Leaned in and, in a heated kiss, you spewed the wine out into his mouth. He gasped, pulling away, flushed cheeks a tiny bit full, lips pursed, one mouth end wet with a trickle flowing down. It would’ve been an adorable sight, had his eyes not narrowed, darkened further more and pierced you with such intensity that your clit gained a drum.

Your finger felt for the top button of his shirt. “Swallow. Don’t be messy.” He did. Swore. Breathed hard. You undid the button, lifting your digit to wipe his chin clean, smearing it on his bottom lip until he opened for you. You plunged in. Let out a low sound of delight once he wrapped his puffy lips around it.

And now here you are staring at each other, finger in mouth. His newly secured energy pulsating in him, seconds away from bursting, brutally. You can see it, vividly, and you prepare yourself for it—blaming partly yourself and, feignedly, the palatability of the white nectar for being the cause behind it. He’s waiting for the next move, countenance terribly solemn and stiff. His hands must be oh so itching to take over, but he sticks to the unspoken, patient and good.

Taking out your finger gently, you undo the rest of his buttons, aware of the shudders zapping his body the more you reveal his smooth skin. Jungkook straightens for you, palms on your thighs, breathing heavily, a sound that brings out the strangest of oxymorons in you—simultaneous nervousness and confidence. Nervousness that you call the shots; confidence that the paintwork of his arousal is signed with your name.

And it’s the latter that the beast plucks out, like a twig of flower off a tree.

You push Jungkook back and slide into his lap, biting your lip at the contact of his hardness under the flimsy material of your ivory pajama shorts. His hands clasp around your small hips, but you pry them away, deeming that if you are in control, then it’s you who decides when he gets to touch you. His brows rise when you pin them down and at last he beams up at you, eyes lidded and drunk, despite the fact he merely had two sips of alcohol. Bunny’s sister rests askew in your joined laps, her head pointed towards your mound and it forces a certain idea into your muddy brain.

One that Jungkook fleetingly interrupts.

“You’re gonna take control of me?”

Ooft, making it official. You hum your agreement, repositioning the plushie. Place her directly against his imprint and, pushing the soaked center of your shorts to the side, you sit down on her soft face. Begin to rock slowly. Jungkook’s breath hitches in his throat, fists clench on either side of him as well as his jaw, chin upturned. He’s holding himself back with all of his might and it is only now that you feel your wetness dripping onto the fur, now when the vibrancy of the faint pleasure spreads across your every nerve ending, now when you know that he’s struggling to keep his composure. There’s something so incredibly satisfying about it that you rock your hips harder, whimpering, hands gripping his shoulders.

“Can you handle it?” you murmur, already knowing that he won’t be able to the moment you decide to take things further, but you give him a slither of a chance to prove you wrong, rooting for him from within with a sly smile on your face.

Jungkook pokes his tongue in his cheek, sighing, eyes descending to your neck and to your perky, pebbled breasts under your low cut top. “I’ll handle anything you come up with as long as I get your kisses.”

His sweet response gratifies you so much that you arch your back, lowering your hands down to his chest, the thrum on your clit becoming unbearable, the soft friction of the plushie doing very little to alleviate it. You whine, picking up your pace. “Even—even if you don’t get to touch me?”

Jungkook hesitates, biting his lower lip. A certain sadness coasts his now big eyes that makes you coo endearingly and slow down, feel so bad for him. “Anything for you.”

You can’t halt the groan from escaping, the groan that roots from the passion and the love you carry for him, from the principle of his submission. You’ll make it up to him. Play with him just for a little while and you’ll give him his rightful upper hand right back to him, all because he was so quick to be your little toy. Without a thought, nor a word spared. Without a struggle. He deserves it. Has come a long way.

“You’re just my little slut, aren’t you?” You grab a hold of his throat, tip his chin up, feel his vein throbbing. “My pretty little slut. Hard for me, hm? Will do anything for me?”

Widening his eyes, mouth parted, he moans, sucking in a breath, chest lifting rapidly. Hand automatically lifting to palm himself, just in time to realize that he can’t because the plushie and your lap is in the way. “Yes, I’m your little slut and I need you so bad. Need your kisses.”

You hum, terribly, terribly satisfied. Horny. A fire, personified. Fire and energy—a wonderful mixture about to meet. “Where, baby?”

His breath shakes, his being radiated by you, glistening in sweat. “Everywhere, please.”

You drift your hands down his chest. Think he earned them now by asking so nicely. You sit back on his thighs, plushie in hand, ready to chuck her away, but then another idea comes up.

Grabbing her by the back of her neck, you use her to kiss him. On his jaw, on his neck, on his left peck, nipple and the mole underneath, making kissing sounds. Jungkook shudders at the contact upon his most sensitive spots and you can see his disliking for it before he voices it out. You revel in it, his desperation becoming your obsession.

“No, not from her. Please, from you.”

But in spite of that, your craving to give him everything is stronger.

You toss her on the couch, hands instantly clasping around his neck. You kiss him, wetly, on his Adam’s apple and he whimpers, urging you to continue. The sides of his throat, collarbones, shoulders—you mark him everywhere with your red lipstick, making a pathway down his sternum before you go sideways. Create a large shape of a heart on the left side of his peck, coloring it in with bruises, with kisses so hard that his manhood twitches in his pants. You’re so focused on adorning him, on the citrusy taste of his skin, that you don’t even sense your hands as they rid him of his shirt, unbuckle his belt and undo his button, dragging down his zipper.

You rise to your feet, out of breath, puffy mouth, lipstick slightly smeared, head spinning. “Take off your pants and get on the couch.”

The golden buckle of his belt catches your eye as he stands up. You wrap your hand around it and tug it out of his belt hoops harshly. There’s a hint of timidness in the vast sea of his arousal once he looks at you, aware of what you’re planning with the leather band. With a giggle, you merely wink at him and Jungkook blushes, dropping his gaze in tandem with his pants.

“Boxers, too?”

You edge around his side and envelop your arms around his middle, mouth pressing against his spine. A big, red mark of your lips amidst the broadness of his back. Utterly, utterly beautiful. “Smart boy, yes—off with them, now.”

Jungkook laughs, softly, shyly. You wish you could see his blush deepen as the clenching of his abdomen divulges to you how much he liked that praise. You also wish you could feel the fluttering of the butterflies inside, if there are any at all. You’re getting to know him in such a new way that you otherwise would have never had the opportunity to do so. The shudders, the tension under his skin, the lively energy that is yearning to burst and rain upon you—it is all so awfully exhilarating, even more so the fact that you hold it all in your tender grasp.

And he lets you. In the name of love.

He drops his undergarment and he goes to sit down like you told him to, but you squeeze him harder against yourself. No, he’s not going anywhere. The heat, his soft skin, his gentleness and shyness—you want it all close to you, close enough to seep into your pores so it can make bed there and live there perpetually. So snug, so homely—yes, that’s precisely what it is. Home.

You skim your hands down the defined muscles of his stomach, feeling them move under your fingers. Take his wrists behind his back and keep them there, unrestrained yet, his belt curled on the coffee table. You bring your hands back to his stomach, lowering them down—

“Can you reach me?” Jungkook asks, head turned to the side. You’re so used to degradation in your sex life that at first you thought he was mocking you, but on the contrary—he’s asking in all genuinity. With his forearms pressed to his sides, he’s bigger than he usually is and he wondered if your small form can stretch enough to touch him.

How sweet.

“Such a good, thoughtful boy.” You grab his length. Had to do it from the side a little bit, but you don’t mind. At least you get to see him. See the way he twists his features at the contact, see his energy and his muscles straining. “I guess I can, huh?”

You tug at his length rapidly a few times. His body shudders again, almost doubles over before he straightens his spine, whimpers trickling out of his mouth and rooting in your heat, soaking your pajamas. And when his sounds rise in volume, you swiftly let go of him. Fetch the belt and fasten it around his wrists, leading him to take a seat on the couch.

Manspreading, cock hard, red and long, almost kissing his belly button, hands behind his back, muscles big and flexed, face features darkened by his arousal, ravagedly fixed on you—fuck, you could come from the view.

You sink to your knees in front of him. Itch so fucking hard to take him in your mouth and make that energy paint you in white, but watching him like this—you plan something else entirely. Pressing one kiss on his V-line, you glide your lips upon the tip of his length, making him tremble in desperation. It takes all of your strength not to give it to him, but you know he will be overjoyed with the little thought that’s swarming in your brain.

“Where’s your fleshlight, baby?”

Jungkook loosens a hard, flabbergasted breath and his pretty, pretty cock twitches against your mouth.

You knew it.

You bought the toy together yesterday. It’s still unopened in a box somewhere in his bedroom; you don’t know where he hid it. He may have not wanted to spend money on it, but when you witnessed the way his eyes glowed, you convinced him to get it. Begged him. Told him you wouldn’t leave the sex shop until he bought it and he gave in, timidly. Much to your delight.

“In the closet,” Jungkook croaks out, clearing his throat and you kiss his other V-line as a reward, kitten licking his tip for a millisecond as you rise to your feet. He whimpers, again in desperation.

“You can’t get it, can you?” you taunt, lovingly, fingers hooking under your shorts and dragging them down your hips, your top following over your head. His eyes follow your every movement, fixing on your feminine parts, muscles bulging, yearning to touch you. You grow wetter, being looked at, being desired like that. “You’re just a helpless baby.”

He moans your name, signaling to you that there’s only so much he can take and you understand. You’re quick as you hurry to his bedroom, quick to find it, quick to pull the toy out of the box and quick to return to him.

There’s a trickle of his male arousal gliding down his length when you stand between his legs and your own desperation to pleasure him heightens in you—so much that you’re equally quick to unfold your plan.

You grab his chin and tip it up, harshly. Kiss him so nastily that he moans into your mouth and then… then you stare him dead in his eye. “I’m gonna put the fleshlight under bunny’s sister and you’re gonna show her how hard Daddy fucks his girls, yeah?” He’s left speechless, breathing rapidly, coated in sweat. Eyes narrowed, still darkened but now glowing with that familiar light that you saw yesterday, black irises piercing you through and through. “You should give her a name, though. Have something to moan when you fill her up, hm?”

It’s evident, the way his brain malfunctions, but he surprises you.

“Vinny.”

Vinny and Bunny, how adorable.

You coo, pecking him. “Vinny it is. Such a pretty name. I’m gonna make you nice and wet for her. Would you like that?”

“Please.”

You descend to your knees and you don’t hesitate to immediately take him into your mouth as far as you can. You gag around him, but you relax your throat, bobbing your head only slightly, testing yourself, wanting to stretch your throat out for him. Jungkook groans, squeaks little mewls as he doubles over once more, and the sound is so obscenely loud that your clit throbs harder in response and you would touch yourself if your craving to pleasure him wasn’t stronger.

You pull out until you can stack both of your hands on his length and while your tongue plays with his tip, you twist your wrists. Only briefly, just to make him feel a little better before you lick him all over—just to stay true to your words. And when it’s your name that comes out of his mouth once you slobber all over him, you withdraw altogether.

“Please… please,” Jungkook whimpers, trembling and you feel terribly bad for him. So much that you pucker your lips at him and kiss his cheek endearingly as soon as you get on your feet again, purposefully ignorant to the way your cunt likes his helplessness.

“I got something better for you, Daddy, don’t worry,” you reassure him, slipping into the dynamic your familiarity using the title. You grab Vinny and the fleshlight, placing her on top of the toy, on the armrest of the couch—her butt and her pussy facing him.

And when you glance at him to see his reaction to your artwork, you’re stunned by the look he gives you. Mad, mad stare. Awfully dark and menacing. It would disquiet you if didn’t know that he loved you. There’s no way you could take the liberty in toying with him like this, had you not become exclusive—had he not created a realm of safety for you to do that in.

“I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you for this,” Jungkook threatens and the sliver of normalcy in the middle of the role-play that he caught onto makes you giddy and feel so fucking alive. The threat, too. You quiver in anticipation and excitement, grinning from ear to ear. “You’re not walking after this.”

You laugh, softly, thrilled. “I sure hope so,” you say, grabbing a hold of his arm to lift him up. “I’m dripping for you.”

Jungkook hisses. Won’t budge. Remains seated, looking up at you. Doesn’t reciprocate your smile. Scowls, instead. “Can I taste you?”

You shake your head ‘no’, even if it emotionally pains you. “Not right now.”

He sighs and you take his arm again. This time he obeys—lets you lead him into the position that you want. On his knees, still on the couch, perfectly at level with Vinny’s pussy patiently waiting for him. Jungkook looks at her for a long time, studying the silicone shape of her clit and lips. You’re certain that if his hands were free, his thumb would’ve traced her soft vulva.

“Do you like her pussy?” you ask, your grin only widening, eyes blazing, emitting hot sparkles of light. You’re perhaps more excited and enthusiastic about this than he is.

Jungkook looks at her for a split second more before he flicks his intense gaze to yours. “Yours is prettier.” Your breath hitches in your throat and your heart follows its footsteps, skipping a beat, springing up and grazing your vocal cords. You can’t get a word out—you’re stupefied, in love, so impassioned that you resemble him with all that fire in you, taking after his energy buzzing in him. You sense the same movement in you, hotter, more vigorous. Your mouth parts and, cheeks awash with color, you’re on the verge of bursting. “Let me touch your little pussy, please.”

You bite your lip, pause a tiny bit just to regain your composure and you sigh, eventually, gripping his face in your hand, squishing his cheeks. “I said,” you start, emphasizing your warning just to see his flush deepen like you wanted. “Not right now. Can’t you listen?”

For a fleeting moment, there’s a heavy silence filled with his hard breaths.

Then, Jungkook glares at you.

“I’m gonna destroy you.”

You chuckle, girlishly—even though his threat yet again thrums within your skin, even though your body craves to submit to him, throw the playtime away, forget about it, entirely. “Talk all you want. See where it gets you.” With your other hand, you take his length and line it up at Vinny’s entrance. “Fuck her.”

Now—now he finally grins, a puckish smile that unnerves you a little bit, as if an idea crawled up into that smart brain of his.

And he proves you right.

“I’m gonna show her how I’m gonna fuck you,” he mutters, drawing closer to Vinny, to the arm rest. “Where’s the lube? Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten.”

A trickle of cold sweat trickles down your spine and it’s you who’s left speechless now. You were so quick to return to him that you did forget the lube, mind void of rationality, filled with him that you forgot such an essential thing. You swear under your breath, feeling stupid.

“Go get it before I rip this fucking belt apart and use it on you.”

Wordlessly, embarrassed with your head down, you go back to his room and fish for his lube in his bedside drawer, noticing that it’s where he keeps the vibrator for you. You haven’t used it in so long in your playtime and you reminisce, briefly, on the last time he made you come with it. On this very bed, on his lap with bunny on yours as he rearranged your guts with the toy on your clit—teasing you by lifting it and placing it between the plushie’s legs, acting for her and screwing up his features in pleasure.

Your heart thuds at the memory, your thighs sodden with your essence, and a certain expectation creeps within its chambers. The expectation that the toy will make a comeback tonight. That is, if you even deserve it.

You cringe at your wetness while your feet pad back to the living room. Jungkook stares you down, guilt written all over his face for being mean and it mollifies your negative feelings, dispersing them away from you. It’s enough for you—you don’t really want to talk about how you pitifully failed, nor do you want to hear a mention of it, but Jungkook seemingly does.

Up close, his eyes are awfully soft as if he made a mistake with his last words. You don’t think he did—he’s always been the leader in your playtime, so you deem he only did the right thing. Besides, you’ve worked him up to the point of anger, so from your standpoint, he didn’t do anything wrong. You did.

“Come here,” he says, gently, leaning in and angling his head. “Put your arms around me.” You do as he says, needing to, needing to be led for a little while before you can resume. You sink your fingers into his hair as you rest your forearms around his shoulders, even though all you want to do is rid him of his restraint and let him fuck it out of you. He kisses you with such tenderness that you whimper in sensitivity and amorousness, taking it one step further and moving your mouth against his, slipping your tongue inside. It’s a brief kiss, no matter its intensity, for he still has something to say. “You’re doing so well tonight. I never thought I’d ever get this hard from you being the boss of me. I’m sorry for snapping, you hear me?” he whispers against your lips, each movement causing his pillows to touch yours in faint, faint kisses that make your mind spin and your desire for him to lengthen across your whole body, deepening. You nod for him, hearing his words, needing them, too—glad for the honesty, for the check in, for the sliver of normalcy. “I’m just so horny and I need you. I didn’t mean it, okay? Daddy didn’t mean to talk to you like this. He loves you and you made him so needy that he’s frustrated, but it’s okay. He can handle it. Do you love your Daddy back, hm?”

You moan at the continuation of his words, running your fingers through his hair, inching closer to him until your chest softly collides with his. And his reassurement, the warm feeling of his skin, the potency of his love—it all erases your mistake, leaving only your sensual craving for him. You nod, again, like a little girl given a talking-to from her father, absorbing the lesson. “I love you.”

Jungkook hums, pleased, pecking you. “Good. I’m gonna do what you want now, baby. Gonna make you proud, listen to every word like a good Daddy, hm? You can do anything you want to me. You’d like that? You wanna keep going?”

You smile at him, sweetly, and he kisses your expression of contentment. It feels so good like this and you feel woozy, too. Sluggish, ready to be taken, on your way to cloud nine. You nod your head for the last time and squirt the lube all over him and Vinny’s intimate parts, your desire to take over him blending into your fuzzy feelings.

With your help, he slides inside her, both pairs of eyes watching the slick intrusion, then meeting at once—your simultaneous groans of delight merging, fading into one another, creating one beautiful, heavenly sound, unheard by all angels and celestial beings. You hold the fleshlight steady as he bottoms out, his mouth parted, brows furrowed, eyes so heavy-lidded as he devours your gaze, your face, the pleasure he feels so overwhelming that you almost think he can’t take it. The flexing of his abdominal muscles, the roll of his hips that takes all of his strength while his arms remain restrained behind his back, his neck shiny with a layer of sweat—fuck, the sight is to die for and you melt into something boneless, jelly and gooey; becoming just a hole for him.

You can’t wait for him to fuck you. Perhaps it’s you, after all, who can’t take it.

Jungkook begins to pound her, his mound hitting her clit with every hard motion and it strikes your awe. Your breathing quickens, the drum in your own bundle of nerves unwaveringly unbearable and what’s worse, he keeps fucking looking at you, perhaps imagining it’s your pussy that he’s ruining and your legs tremble, threatening to give out—

“Rub your pussy on the other end, please,” he begs, vocal cords so awfully strained, and this time you decide to gratify him.

The first moan that your mouth emits makes him fuck the toy harder—so much that it slips out of your grasp. You prop your knee on the armrest, flattening Vinny’s face on the edge of the toy, so you can gain the friction you so desperately need and it works. Your cunt soaks her sleepy countenance and you flick your eyes to it, watching the fur get darker with each rock of your hips.

“Look at me,” he grunts—and you do. A hint of softness in the dark sea of his eyes, boisterous waves of arousal sloshing to and fro. “Use her like I am. Hard—” He shows you how by a stroke that reverberates through your body, stimulating your clit by bumping into it. “And then fast.” Quick thrusts that waggle with your form, your curls bouncing against your spine.

And so you match his rhythm. It stimulates you far more than the pace you had going for yourself, your orgasm enclosing around you, inching closer and closer with each graze of your clit against the now more firm plush fur. Your brows knit, the coil in your stomach tightening to the point that it’s you who ultimately takes over and Jungkook follows, matching your rhythm, fucking Vinny faster—the silicone squeaking with each deep plunge of his length into her hole that causes your tits to slap against each other. But Jungkook doesn’t look at them. No, his eyes are set on you and you know that he knows that you’re about to come.

Jungkook begins to pant, marked chest flushing, adorning him most finely. The knowledge is getting him there, too. “You close, baby?”

You moan, sucking in a breath. “So close, I’m gonna come.”

He moans with you, approving of it. “Come, then, I wanna watch you. Make her nice and wet for me, hm?” You rock your hips faster—closer and closer, gripping Vinny with all your might. “I wanna touch you so bad, princess. Kiss you everywhere. Lick that little clit. Fuck you until all that you know is my fucking name. Please—”

You come so hard that it takes both you and Jungkook by surprise, your body violently shuddering and colliding into his. He groans, deeply, following in suit, your orgasm triggering his and he sloppily fucks the toy while he watches you ride out your high, bliss enveloping you in angelic glow.

“Yes, princess, just like that, fuck. You’re so pretty. My pretty little girl, coming so hard. Yes, fuck.” He’s losing himself, moaning your name over and over until there’s nothing left to give to Vinny, until he’s so spent that he sits back on his feet, eyes closing and opening, tongue licking his dry lips. He moans your name again, in post-high. “Please, get the belt—”

You don’t hesitate. With blurry vision and sex hormones swirling in your brain, numb by your intense orgasm, you edge around him and rid him of his restraint, flinging it somewhere away from the both of you, hating it, not wanting to see it again.

You and Jungkook exchange a look full of soft smiles and love, with his joy like a cherry on top of that. He twists his wrists, standing up to his feet, the size difference and the sudden change in energy causing him to grow solemn. No smiles, though the love remains. You feel it thumping in the atmosphere you’re surrounded by as he completely overpowers you, naturally. And you welcome it, needing it—needing to be dominated and fucked until you’re brainless.

“I love watching you come,” Jungkook murmurs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. “It’s all I want to see for the rest of my life. Every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep. It’s everything to me.”

It moves through you, his words, almost painfully with their vigor and passion, passing down your body until they settle in your core. You drip for him. Still feel so terribly lightheaded and high. “Just that, huh?”

“And your snores.”

You punch his arm. Jungkook laughs and gathers your hair, pulling it away from your face, stroking it down your back. A grin of your own curls your mouth. You don’t snore, at all. And you tell him.

“You do when you’re tired.” You gasp, lifting your hand again but he catches it in time, intertwining your fingers with his. “You did such a good job today. You learn well from me. Sounded just like me. Made me proud.” He strokes your hair again and you lean into his touch, even though you don’t believe him. You could’ve done a lot better and it could’ve ended just like you planned—fucking him with that fleshlight. You guess you can save that for another time.

You shake your head. “I messed up.”

“But you didn’t.” He angles his head, inching closer so the gravity of his words can pierce your mind, but it does no such thing. You still have one of your own. Solid as a rock.

“No, I shouldn’t have forgotten the lube. It ruined everything.”

Jungkook sighs, drawing back, fondling the back of your hand before he lets go of it and clutches the nape of your neck. “Sex isn’t meant to be perfect. You didn’t ruin anything, why do you think that?” He looks at you for a long time, but you can’t take it—you drop your gaze, still feeling terrible. He calls you by your name, firmly. “Who made you think sex is meant to be perfect, huh? Bring them to me.”

You laugh, softly, at the ridiculousness of his question. It’s him who owns your virginity—you’ve never been with anyone else before him. It’s your own expectations that make you think that. “Right here.” You point to your brain.

Jungkook kisses your forehead. Lingers there, giving you a million tiny pecks, as if erasing everything from there that he doesn’t like. It touches you, deeply, and you can’t stop yourself from submitting to it as it melts your brain. Your mouth rounds in a pout, your bottom lip jutting out and when he gazes down upon you and sees it, he coos at you, kissing it. “I made a mistake, too, didn’t I?” You remain silent—still think he didn’t do anything wrong. “But it was still amazing and we came together, didn’t we?”

He’s right; you’ll give him that. “You really liked it?”

He pecks you, vehemently, on the lips and then points to the fleshlight behind him in all its glory, dripping with cum. So much fucking cum that it makes a puddle on the hardwood floor. “Do you think I would’ve cummed this much if I didn’t? Tell me, baby.”

You swear, unable to take your eyes off of the quantity of his male essence. It draws you in, magnetically, and you obey its call, lifting the fleshlight with your hands, turning around so Jungkook sees and darting out your tongue—

“Don’t.”

You swipe the muscle across the silicone hole, collecting his ivory arousal. Most of it trickles down your neck and bare chest and it’s Jungkook now who swears, loudly. Grabs you by your waist and, flinging the toy away, he kisses you. You didn’t even have the time to swallow. He’s tasting himself on your tongue and it causes you to moan into his mouth. He taps the back of your thighs and you jump, wrapping your legs around his torso. You don’t know where he’s taking you, but at this point you give zero fucks.

His tender bedding grazes your back when he lays you down on it with a harsh thud, breaking the kiss and taking your breath away. Bottom lip between his teeth, he studies your soiled body with his cum, kneeling on the bed by your form. He takes his first two fingers and collects his evidence of pleasure, flicking his eyes to yours. You meet him halfway, expecting him to plunge those digits in your mouth and you’re ecstatic, wanting it badly, but Jungkook pushes you down.

In fact, he turns you around—ass up, face down. With just one hand.

You swear, your arousal gaining new intensity. And it’s your needy hole that he plunges his fingers in, briefly stuffing you with his cum, placing his free hand on your lower back so you can arch your spine for him more. Then, he rubs your clit in hard, slow circles, making you cry out, making your legs tremble all over again—

A spank. A brassy, cacophonous spank that drives you forward, forcing you to grip onto the sheets.

“I told you not to do that, didn’t I?” Jungkook rasps. Doesn’t alleviate the burn. “Answer me.”

Fuck. “Yeah, you told me not to do that.”

You brace yourself for another spank, but it doesn’t come. You feel his lips by your ear, his body heat cocooning you as he bends over you, his fists, pitifully, on either side of your back.

“You’re such a filthy little girl. Licking my cum off like that? Making me hard all over again for you?” he tsks, the sound making you even needier. For him, for his cock, even for another spank. You grind your ass against his hip and he maneuvers so his cock slips between your cheeks. Swears, such guttural noise that you mewl in response. “You just do what you want, huh? I guess you don’t love your Daddy anymore.”

He spanks you again, harder than before, and your vowel of disagreement breaks at the concoction of pain and pleasure coursing through your body. “No—no, I love you.”

Another spank. Lips by your ear again, his body clinging to your side. “You love me?” He clamps your mouth shut, preventing you from answering.

You do, anyways, your words muffled. “I love you. I love you so much.”

Jungkook hums in question. “What did you say? I couldn’t hear you.” He digs his fingers harder into your cheek, other hand rounding around your hip and attacking you with bolts of pleasure that make you quiver against him—rubbing your clit rapidly before he sinks his fingers inside you… and merely keeps them there.

You move his hand away and he lets you, holding it, panting. “I love you so much.”

Jungkook groans, sinking his fingers deeper. “Who do you love, hm?”

He wants you to say his rightful title and you do, with all your heart. “You, Daddy. I love you.”

At your words, Jungkook begins to pump his fingers and you cry out, placing your head on his palm, taking it. “Such a good fucking girl, making me crazy—” He growls, pressing a fat kiss on your cheek, curling his fingers slowly into that place that causes your breath to hitch in your throat, your orgasm quick to catch up to you. “Good little girl that loves her Daddy, fuck. I’m gonna give you everything. Gonna eat that little pussy, hm? You want that? Want Daddy to make you come with his tongue?”

You squeak when he gives you one particular, hard stroke against your special place, mind numbing, a dam broken. “Yes, yes, please, Daddy, please—”

He draws away, instantly. Traces your back with his palms as he straightens, smearing your feminine essence all over your skin that he licks up. And then, his mouth—

Jungkook takes you in his mouth. All of you. Licking against your clit, sucking it, rubbing his face in your cunt and groaning against her. His hands squeeze your ass, painting it redder and he flicks your little bundle of nerves with his tongue until he senses your orgasm. Then, he pulls away for a second, stalling it. Thumbs your other, puckered hole.

“My pretty little pussy. All mine.”

Mewling, you shake your ass for him and he growls, cursing, spanking your cheek, taking the flesh in his hand and squeezing it. Again and again, until you feel yourself drip, until you feel him spread your legs wider and nudge himself between them, opening his mouth for it to trickle down upon his tongue.

“Sit up. Ride my face.”

You moan before you even obey, sitting down on his tongue and grinding your pussy on it. He rolls it against you, back and forth, following your rhythm. Slow and romantic, kissing your clit every once in a while, sucking it as you keep up your movement, inching dangerously close to your orgasm. He’s in absolute control of you, though. Of your pleasure and climax, stalling it before beckoning it forth again. You lose yourself in it, in the profound and all consuming delight toying with all your nerve endings, creating something within you that diffuses you with confidence and allure, that inclines you to ride him harder, whimper a little louder and knead your breast until you leave your handprint in your wake.

He lets you do your thing, but as you saw earlier today, there’s only so much that he can take.

Clasping your hips, he angles them until your hole is at level with his nimble tongue, guiding you to lean back and use his chest to hold yourself steady. And like his fingers, he fucks you with the muscle, curling it each time. The filthy noise of your slick and his saliva, his breaths and hums, your obscene moans and then his thumb rubbing your clit rapidly—it’s enough, with his evident permission, for you to come.

And you come so hard that you sprinkle his face with your dew.

He laughs in utter joy, humming—humming deeply and you’re so obsessed with that sound that you come again, shuddering violently and he spanks you, holds you by your waist, digging in his fingerprints, allowing you to ride out your high, to use him until you’re so boneless that you slump against him.

Jungkook drags you down, though, slipping, instantly, his cock inside of you. And it’s wild, wild butterflies that you feel in your gut owing to it, then pain so acute that you whine. Enveloping his arms around you, tightly, with no way of escaping, his wet face is so tender that you coo at him amidst the rush of your colorful feelings. Wipe away your dew, giggling, kissing him loudly as his cock adjusts in you and the bite from overstimulation withers little by little.

“You can take it, I know you can,” Jungkook whispers, beaming up at you, iridescent. “You feel so good around me. So tight. I love being inside of you.”

Slowly, he begins to move, causing your features to scrunch up. In discomfort at first, then in relish as your stiffened nipples rub against the hardness of his chest.

“You’re my good little girl. You take everything I give you so well. So well.” Jungkook picks up his pace, gathering your hair in his fist. Doesn’t pull on it; merely holds it. You whimper, his words loosening the overbearing tightness of your walls. “I’m gonna take care of you. You’re just my little baby. Mine—” A hard thrust. Your eyes roll back. “My baby.”

“Yes, I’m yours,” you croak out and Jungkook takes your face in his hands and pounds into you until all you see is stars. Pretty, pretty twinkling stars.

Slapping skin, his grunts—you don’t even see your orgasm coming, coming over you so violently and yet in such an exhilarating way. Your dew forces him out, forces his chuckles out again and he brings you back to him, kissing you, plunging his cock back with ease.

You’re so lightheaded that you feel like an angel, soaring in the sky. An angel that years for something more. And you tell him. “Jungkook, please, I want the vibrator.”

He merely smiles at you, arm reaching over and pulling out the toy for you from his bedside table. Turning it on, you’re radiated by the light in his eyes and you whimper in impatience. Jungkook shushes you, like a baby, clicking on the intensity until he’s satisfied, placing it on your clit.

And then he gets up.

Pushes you against his closet, back against the wood, legs around his waist, vibrator on your clit and his hand clasped around your mouth, preventing your loud moans from escaping while letting you know how much he loves being in charge. Giving you hard strokes that secure him your soul on a silver platter before he fucks you so fast that you can’t see anything. Your surroundings are a blur while his face remains clear, painted in tortured pleasure for you as if he were holding himself back.

“Come for me, Daddy,” you beg under his palm, your sound muffled, but it seems that Jungkook understands you.

Pulling away, he turns you around and gets into position again. One hand around your mouth, the other holding the toy on your clit, his dick inside. He begins to play with you, not moving his hips at all, only the vibrator. Panting against the crook of your neck, he takes a second to merely breathe with you while you’re on the pathway to another mind blowing orgasm because he turns up the intensity. “How about you come for Daddy first, hm? I know you don’t need me to move when we do this. You can come just like this. So come.”

And you do, embarrassingly, whining all over the place, twisting your hips to chase your pleasure, causing him to emit the same sounds—causing him to pound you so hard against his closet that he, too, comes in mere minutes. His fingers in your mouth, he’s loud and just as whiny as you, fucking you through his orgasm as you play with digits, sucking on them.

He doesn’t pull away for a long time. Presses you against his chest and holds you like that, still connected. The vibrator buzzes on the floor, the air is stuffed, but you’re content, the happiest angel, held and stuffed, too. With cum and dick. Heaven on earth.

Jungkook begins to kiss your neck, marking you there. Fondles your nipples, making you shudder and sigh, making you utter the three words that he deserves.

“I love you, Ggukie.”

Jungkook makes a sound that tears you apart. A whimper; the whiniest you ever heard him be. He pulls out of you, but stuffs you again with his fingers. Makes you squirt in record time, kissing you everywhere he can reach. Neck, shoulder, jaw, cheek and lips.

You must be soaring again in the clouds because you can’t feel your body, especially not when Jungkook says, “I love you, my little squirter.”

Your knees do give out, after all. Jungkook is quick to pick you up and cradle you in his arms. Wash you clean in the shower. Put on a movie for you while making you food, joining you as soon as he can.

It’s love you feel—love most profound. And as you eat the food together and finish the wine with drenched Vinny on the other side of the couch, you fall asleep with that love thrumming in your heart.

You’ll be his for the rest of your life. And he’ll be yours, too.

BACK to masterlist

#jungkook x oc #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook smut #bts smut #bts imagine #jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #bts scenarios #jungkook scenarios #jungkook fluff #btscreatorscorner #kpop smut #jungkook one shot

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softspiderling · 6 months

Text

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You rarely had a night by yourselves most days.

Majority of them, you were either hanging out with Rafe, yours or his place, didn’t really make a difference, or you were out with your friends.

This Saturday night, you were by yourself, a rare occasion.

Rafe and Sarah were in Charleston with their family for some charity that Rose was a part of. When Rafe first invited you to come, you declined, saying you’d rather stay home and hang with your friends or something (he was huffing and puffing about it for hours afterwards, until you made it up to him). When the weekend came around, you realized that all of your friends seemed to be busy: Cleo and Pope were driving out to fish with his parents and made a whole weekend out of it, John B and JJ went to Hatteras island for some surfing competition and Kie had to help her parents at the Wreck because they were hosting an event.

John B and JJ had invited you to tag along, but you a: you weren’t a good enough of a surfer to participate in the competition and b: you didn’t want to sit at the beach by yourself while the boys were in the water. You had half a mind to take up Rafe for the invitation to the charity but it was extremely last minute and you didn’t have anything to wear so you scratched that idea and came to terms with spending your Saturday night by yourself.

Since the event at the Wreck didn’t start until 7, you spent the day hanging out there with Kie, snacking on some fries, drinking your weight in iced tea and texting Rafe until you had to leave to let Kie prep for the event.

you: i’m actually so bored, i’m starting to regret not coming with you 😞

rafe❤️: told you to come, didn’t i?

rafe❤️: shows that you should always listen to me.

you: pfff, please, that is not the moral of the story.

you: maybe i’ll just go to a party 🤪

rafe❤️: funny.

You tossed your phone on the couch and ran your hand through your air, sighing in frustration. As you reached for your phone again for mindless scrolling, your eye caught onto your nails, and you paused. You hadn’t done your nails in a while, mostly because you were so busy. But now would be the perfect opportunity. So you got all your nail polishes and tools out of your closet and started on prep.

About four hours later you still weren’t done. You spent the first hour on looking for inspiration on Pinterest and then the next half hour booting up Netflix so you had something to watch while you were doing your nails. Your iced coke was chilling on the table, the UV lamp curing the last layer of polish on your right hand before you could finish with top coat. Your phone was long dead, but you were too lazy to get up from the table to plug it in, your back killing you from sitting hunched over your table for so long. Yawning, you put on the top coat on your last nail before sticking your hand under the lamp, ready to fall go to bed right after you were done. Now you remembered why you hadn’t done your nails for a while. After you were finished, you packed all the things away, plugged your phone into the charger and passed out in bed.

You woke up with a start, disoriented for a second. It felt like you’d been asleep for barely an hour, but you were unsure what woke you from the slumber, when the door bell rang again.

“What the hell,” you muttered to yourself, throwing a sweater over before you padded downstairs, hearing that the person at the door has begun to knock excessively.

“Jesus Christ, I’ll be right there!” you called, hurrying down the stairs. You glanced through the window, trying to see what psycho was ringing on your doorbell in the middle of the night, just to see Rafe standing in front of the door, clearly upset.

You opened the door, barely getting a word in before he rushed inside, grabbing your arms.

“Rafe, what the hell are you doing here?”

“Where the hell have you been?” he asked hotly, staring at you before looking you up and down. “Who have you been with? Why the fuck didn’t you text me back?”

You were starting to get anxious from his behavior and you cupped his face. “Rafe, stop. Breathe. What happened?”

Rafe took a deep breath, shutting his eyes for a second.

“You haven’t replied to a text since like before eight, and your last message was about going to a party. I thought something had happened,” he gritted out. “No one was able to reach you and my calls weren’t getting through to you.”

You exhaled deeply. “God, I thought something happened to Sarah. I’m fine, babe. I was doing my nails and my phone died,” you explained, lifting your hand to show off your nails. Rafe looked at him, his eyes narrowed.

“Pretty,” he grunted, before wrapping his arms around you. “Never do that again.”

As you hugged him, you could feel the tension bleed out from his limbs and you couldn’t help but smile into his shirt.

“You’re crazy, Rafe. As if I would ever go to a party by myself,” you huffed, pulling away to look up at him. “How did you even get here so fast? I thought you guys were supposed to spend the night in Charleston.”

Rafe clenched his jaw. “I took the boat. Ward is super pissed off because I left them stranded.”

You bit back a laugh, only shaking your head at your boyfriend.

“You’re such a worrier, I was asleep.”

“Yeah, well, how the fuck was I supposed to know that?” he muttered, pulling you back into his arms.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

author's note: quick lil drabble bc i thought of how unreachable i am when doing my nails

#rafe cameron x reader #rafe x reader #rafe cameron #obx #outer banks #drew starkey

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roosterforme · 11 months

Text

Adult Education Part 6 | Hangman x OC

Summary: Jessica can't catch a break at work, and things are just made worse when she's required to plan an event for alumni weekend. Looking forward to seeing Jake on Saturday was only trumped by a surprise visit from him.

Warnings: Fluff, angst, swearing, eventually 18+

Length: 4100 words

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x Female OC

This story is part of the Beer Boy and Sugar universe but can be read on its own! Adult Education masterlist

Seriously, who let Jake on my masterlist!? Banner by @mak-32

The next morning, Jake was ready to go and standing outside with his travel cup of coffee at 7:25 just to be sure he didn't piss off his ride. At this rate, he was going to owe Bradshaw and his wife something really nice for all of their help with his truck. And with Jessica.

When they both pulled up in the Bronco at exactly 7:30, Jake climbed in the backseat with a smirk. "Sorry I interrupted your evening last night."

She smiled at him and shrugged saying, "It's fine. I hope your truck is repairable." But Bradley just glared at Jake in the rearview mirror as he pulled away from the curb.

"Gonna buy a new one, I think," he replied. "Just to be on the safe side."

As the Bronco coasted to a stop at a red light, she turned to face him. "How was your date with Jessica?"

Jake groaned and said, "That's why I'm getting a new truck. I had to run five miles, and I was late meeting her. Almost fucked it all up. I love that shitty, old truck, but I'll need something more reliable if she actually agrees to date me."

Bradley snorted. "Yes. Get something more reliable so you don't inconvenience Jessica." He gestured to his wife in the passenger seat as the light turned green. "She was asleep when I got home last night. Just in case you were curious."

"I wasn't. But thanks," Jake replied coolly, watching as she laughed and leaned in to kiss her husband's cheek. "And thanks for the ride. I owe you. Again." Jake tried to think about what he could even get for Bradley. What did he even like? Wasn't that Grateful Dead cover band coming to town?

"Wait. You ran five miles after your truck broke down?" Bradshaws's wife asked him. "That's actually kind of romantic. I would have been a mess after that."

"It's not as romantic as all the doors," Bradley grumbled. But now they were driving through the college campus, and Jake's eyes caught on the building where Jessica worked as they pulled up in front of it. Jake also had a front row seat to watch the way Bradley leaned across the seat and kissed his wife as if he wasn't going to see her for a week.

"Bye, Sugar. I love you so much," he whispered, handing her a lunchbox with a tie dye pattern. She bid him farewell with a similar sentiment and then waved to Jake. And then Bradley sat there and watched to make sure his wife got safely into the building before putting it back in gear.

"Do you drive your wife to work all the time?" Jake asked awkwardly now from the backseat.

"Of course. As much as I can."

Jake was quiet for a beat, and then he asked, "I know you and she met a long time ago. Were you ever in love with anyone else?"

"No," came his immediate reply. "Always been a little bit obsessed with that one in particular."

Jake could tell. And that level of devotion was starting to sound more and more appealing to him.

------------------------------

Jessica was so tired of the way she always ended up in tears at the end of every department meeting. This time she was sitting next to Leland, and it just wasn't fair that she was always being singled out. They were going to force her to volunteer to be a faculty advisor for an on-campus event for alumni weekend. She could already tell. It was going to be a tedious waste of her time, and Brian Conley would make some vague promises about getting her on a tenure track. But she just knew he'd never let that happen.

"Let's chat when we're done here, Dr. Reed," Conley announced in front of everyone like Jessica was a small child who needed to be reprimanded. And when everyone else was dismissed, she didn't move from her seat towards the back of the room. If he wanted to talk to her, he could do it from there. Because now she was just getting mad.

Almost all of the warm fuzzy feelings leftover from her Chippy's date with Jake were gone and replaced by self loathing. She had fucked up her career. She had fucked up her relationship with probably everyone in the science department. And she would most likely fuck things up with Jake, too.

"Jessica," Conley said softly, shaking his head.

"Please, call me Dr. Reed or Professor Reed," she managed to say without letting on that she was about to cry.

He sighed like she was the biggest inconvenience in his life and raked his fingers through his sexy salt and pepper hair. "Dr. Reed," he said with a sarcastic looking smile. "If you want to even stand a chance at tenure, then you need to comply with my ideas."

"It's so convenient that you are the one in charge of tenure for the department, isn't it? You know how hard I work. You know how much I care about my students. This shouldn't even be an issue."

Then he strode across the room and walked down the row of seats she was sitting in and loomed over her as he said, "You are the one who made it an issue. Not me."

Jessica was torn between the urge to tell him to fuck off and the desire to burst into tears. But she sat there quietly with her eyes trained on his as he added, "Now pick one of the events to manage for alumni weekend, or I can guarantee you'll be an adjunct professor as long as you remain at this school."

It didn't matter which one she chose, he would make it miserable for her. So she grabbed her bag and stood as tall as she could in her high heels. "Just shoot me an email and let me know the details. It doesn't matter which event I have to manage; I'll do a fucking amazing job with it while you try to bring me down."

She didn't wait for a response. She was out of the room and down the hallway to the elevators before he could say anything. The whole day was going to suck now. She could just tell. If only it were Saturday, she could be at Jake's place where at least her past wasn't hanging over her head constantly.

After three lectures in a row, she checked her emails upon returning to her office. The first one made her smile, because Advanced Calculus invited Jessica to stop by her office for lunch. The second was from Conley, letting her know that she was in charge of helping to plan and execute a beer pong tournament at one of the fraternity houses.

"Fuck my life," she moaned, reaching into her desk to get her peanut butter and jelly sandwich and room temperature bottle of water. Now she really didn't feel like having lunch with another actual person, but she didn't want to lose her only friend here. So she slowly made her way down to the other end of the building and the math department.

When she knocked on the door, she was greeted with a cheery, "Come in!" And Jessica once again marvelled at the spacious office with windows and the beautiful lunch spread out on the desk in front of the other woman. Today it was a delicious looking veggie wrap, an array of mixed nuts, and assorted artisan cheeses.

"Your husband always makes my lunch look even sadder," Jessica said, tossing her sandwich in its ziplock bag onto the desk and sinking into the open chair.

She responded with a laugh, saying, "Help yourself. He always packs too much in case I need an afternoon snack. How's your day going?"

"Horrible," Jessica whispered, reaching for some of the nuts. "I'm getting roped into helping with an event for alumni weekend. All because I don't have tenure. And even though I've been assured this type of thing will help me get there, I already know it won't."

"The fucking patriarchy," the other woman replied before biting into her wrap.

"Right?" whined Jessica. "Like I can't win. I'm never going to get ahead here. I wonder if Penn State still wants me. Maybe I should call them." She honestly didn't have much keeping her in California, but Jake immediately came to mind. Which was ridiculous, because they had kissed all of a handful of times last night. But he did run five miles. And he did want Chippy to like him.

"You can't leave me here alone!" Advanced Calculus complained, and Jessica smiled. "Which event do they have you working on?"

As Jessica nibbled on her sandwich, she said, "A beer pong tournament. At a fraternity house." She deadpanned, but the other woman started howling with laughter.

"I might actually be able to get my husband to come to alumni weekend even though neither of us went to school here!"

"Was he in a Kappa Pi chapter? I could probably make him some sort of guest of honor if he wants."

"No. Beta Gamma. We have the fraternity paddles at home to prove it. But he and I used to play beer pong in college, and I just know he would be more than happy to spend the fifty or hundred bucks per ticket to try to relive his glory days."

Jessica smiled tentatively. "Do you want to help me plan the event? I'm sure I could waive the fees for both of you."

She was expecting a loud resounding no. So when Jessica saw her nod and say, "Sure," she thought she might fall out of her seat. "Let me text my Beer Boy right now so he knows not to make any plans for that day. Not that he ever plans anything except a night out at the bar where I have to babysit him and Jake and the others, but you know..."

And then Jessica sat up a little straighter. Maybe Jake could come to the event, too. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad at all if they were all there. Maybe then Brian Conley would get off her back about everything, or at the very least, she wouldn't be alone when he tried to pick apart every little detail.

"Thank you," Jessica blurted out. "Like honestly. Thank you for agreeing to help me. And just for inviting me to eat lunch with you."

The other woman looked up from her phone with a surprised expression on her face. "You don't have to thank me. Now.... why don't you tell me a little bit about your date with Jake. I heard that man ran like a hundred miles to see you."

Jessica felt warmth in her cheeks as she divulged a few details about the evening, but then she realized it was nearly time for her to teach her lab class. "I'm sorry, but I need to run. Maybe we can do this again next week?"

"Sure. And I'll start brainstorming some ideas for alumni weekend. I'll recruit Bradley to help. Or maybe not... everything would be tie dye."

Jessica was still smiling as she walked to the lab.

----------------------------

Jessica was no longer smiling when she was three quarters of the way through her office hours and nobody had stopped by. Her stomach was growling so loudly, she was sure you could hear it down by the elevators. And she was shopping on the Victoria's Secret website for something to do. Really, she just wanted to stop at In-N-Out and head home, but then there was a knock on her open door.

"Reedy," Jake drawled, and she dropped her phone onto her desk with a soft thud. "You got some time for me?"

He looked so damn good in some well worn jeans and a Texas Longhorns shirt. But to make him even more appealing, he was holding some flowers and a container that looked like it was filled with food.

"Jake," she whispered, standing up behind her desk. She felt goosebumps on her arms and legs as a crooked little grin appeared on his face. He headed straight for her and set the container down, and when he held out the flowers, she took them. "Thanks."

Then she noticed his eyes catch on her phone which was next to the container, and Jake's cheeks flushed pink. He swallowed hard and asked, "You doing some shopping?"

Jessica turned the phone over just as the screen faded to black, but it was too late. Her Victoria's Secret shopping cart full of thigh high stockings, a new garter belt, and a pretty green set had been plainly visible to him.

"Maybe," she whispered, realizing that the green bra and thong set matched his eyes perfectly. And now she was thinking about how he might react to her wearing them. Jessica whimpered softly. And then his lips came crashing down against hers. She dropped the flowers onto her desk so she could have full access to his body as she stumbled back a step and hit her chair. But Jake had one arm wrapped securely around her waist, keeping her on her feet.

She let her fingers sink into his silky hair as his tongue met hers, and she whimpered again for him. His kisses were so intentional, so sure. Like he really wanted to be here in this moment. With her. Yet he kept his hands very respectfully on her back. And she realized it had been a year since she'd let anyone touch or kiss her like this. It had been a year since she even tried, and she never expected it to feel this good.

"Wait," she gasped, wrenching her lips away from his and pulling herself from his warm grasp. Jake held his hands up like she'd burned him, and his cheeks grew pinker as she walked around her desk, high heels clicking along the floor.

"I'm sorry," he said softly, his tone bordering on questioning as his eyes followed her across the tiny room. She closed her office door with a soft thud, and then turned to look at him.

"Too many prying eyes around here," she said with a laugh as her fingers skimmed along the doorknob, already missing the feel of Jake.

"Understood." He looked mildly relieved if no less pink as she made her way back to him. And then she was right in front of him again, and his lips were parted and his fingers were flexing, but he didn't make a move to touch her again as she adjusted her glasses.

She had somehow managed to pour cold water all over the moment by wanting to close the door, but just the idea of Conley walking by and catching them was too much for her to think about. Then Jessica's eyes trailed down to the lettering on Jake's shirt, and her fingers traced the T in Texas before she really knew what she was doing. She made it to the X, before she met his eyes again.

"Jessica." His voice was deep and a little raspy as he reached for her wrist and flattened her palm against his chest. He covered her hand with his larger one and said, "You're in charge. You set the pace."

How could those words possibly turn her on the way they did? How was this happening? She just nodded and eased both of her hands up along his chest and around his neck while he stroked her arm with one big hand. And then she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes and kissed him softly, guiding his other hand around her waist.

"I want you to touch me," she whispered against his lips, and that hand rubbed along her hip and then up her side in the most enticing way.

As Jessica kissed down Jake's neck to the collar of his shirt, he said, "I can't stop thinking about you. Didn't want to wait until Saturday to see you."

She giggled against his stubbled jaw and said, "You come to my office hours so frequently, you're probably my best student."

Jake grunted and said, "Now you're just teasing me."

Jessica pulled away and looked up at his handsome face. "If I wanted to tease you, I would ask what you thought about the thong I was about to order on my phone."

His head tipped back, and she watched his Adam's apple as he swallowed. "You're right. That's a much better way to tease me. And I would say that green is my favorite color."

When he met her eyes again, he very slowly brought his hand down along her butt. And then they were making out, hands everywhere. Jessica's glasses were crooked on her nose as he pushed his fingers up into her hair, tipping her head back for better access to her kisses. Her tongue was tangled with his again, and her fingers were tucking underneath his shirt when he moaned into her mouth.

Jake cupped her cheek with his palm and let the kisses taper off, but he still held her reassuringly in place against him with his other hand on her butt. "So are you going to buy it?" he asked breathlessly.

"Hmm?" she hummed, brushing her lips on his chin.

"The lingerie. Are you going to buy it?"

She gasped. "I don't really need it. I have so much already."

Jake just groaned and shook his head with a look of agony on his face. "You need it. The green ones. You should buy them."

She was in charge. He made it a point of telling her that she was, and now she felt powerful. "Alright. I will."

-----------------------------

Jake was a little nervous that Jessica would be able to feel how hard he was in his jeans when she told him she was going to buy that bra and lace thong that he was dying to see on her. His current state of need was only exacerbated by the way she vaguely told him she already had a whole collection of lingerie at her disposal.

Maybe it was the high heels or the fact that he could see her light pink bra strap peeking out of the top of her blouse right now. Or maybe it was her glasses and her kiss swollen lips. It didn't matter. Everything she did turned him on. And she wasn't even really doing anything intentionally. Well, except maybe for the slight dirty talk.

He wanted to make a comment about how pretty that shade of green would look on her or about how he'd love to take it back off of her, but he didn't. Instead he kissed her softly and said, "I stopped by to bring you dinner, so getting to see what you were shopping for was just a bonus, Baby."

She laughed and ducked her head before asking, "What's for dinner, anyway?"

"Chicken parmesan casserole and garlic toast. Oh, and a brownie for dessert."

Suddenly she was reaching for the container and peeking inside the lid. "This looks homemade. You made this?"

"Mmhmm." He rubbed circles into her hips through her skirt with his thumbs. "Trying to get you excited for Saturday."

She laughed and looked up at him. "I was already excited for Saturday."

He kissed her cheek and whispered, "Game starts at one o'clock. And I'm completely out of journals again."

And then Jake found himself standing behind Jessica at her bookshelf while she looked for the titles she wanted. He had one hand on her hip, and the other was held out so she could stack the journals she wanted for the weekend on his palm. "Oh, you'll like this one," she mused, adding one more to the pile. "I've read it a million times."

"Maybe I can read it to you," he murmured, and then her lips were on his again.

In an ideal world, this would be something already established. He could just take Jessica home with him for the night. Probably have sex and then cuddle. And then they could both leave for work from his place in the morning after a nice shower together. And that sounded so good to him, he was actually willing to put in the work to try to get there.

But tonight, he helped her carry her bag and her dinner and her flowers to her car. "You take the journals home with you," she whispered, kissing him just below his ear before she climbed into the driver's seat.

"Enjoy your dinner," he drawled.

"I will," she said with a smile before Jake closed the door for her. And then he walked the two blocks to where he had parked his brand new truck less than an hour previously.

The engine started up like a dream, and he drove home to clean up his place for Saturday. Not that it was ever too much of a mess; he lived there alone. Regardless, he wanted everything to look perfect. He wanted his couch to look extra inviting. He wanted to impress her.

Jake didn't even go to the bar on Friday night. Two weeks in a row now he didn't bring a girl home with him and kick her out early Saturday morning. He could have gone to the Hard Deck, and it would have been fine. He could have played pool and annoyed Bradshaw by buying drinks for his wife. It would have been fun, and he could have come home empty handed, no problem.

But he went to bed early after he jerked off in the shower to the daydream of Jessica in light green lingerie, and he couldn't remember the last time he slept so well. Then he spent Saturday morning getting food prepared for later.

Jessica told him she wasn't picky and would eat just about anything, so he was getting the ingredients ready to make chili with the pregame show playing on his massive TV. Then there was a knock on his door. Jessica was standing there holding a six pack of Sam Adams bottles and wearing a fitted Texas A&M shirt and tight black leggings. He couldn't really tell if she was wearing any makeup, and she had traded in her high heels for some beat up sneakers. And Jake felt a little weak.

"Hi." Her voice was soft as he opened the door wider.

"I told you not to bring anything," he said, eyes fixed on her body as she walked past him into his living room and looked around.

She turned back to smile at him over her shoulder. She looked maybe a little younger and so much more petite like this. Jake had to fight the urge to pick her up and carry her around. "Nice place. You going to give me a tour?"

"I dunno," he mumbled, closing the distance to her. "You're wearing an A&M shirt. The Longhorns' biggest rival."

She pressed her lips together, trying not to smile. "I thought you could make an exception for me?"

He took the six pack from her and brought his other hand up to cup her cheek. He kissed her slow and steady until he felt her fingers meet the waistband of his jeans. "Just for you," he promised. "Nobody else."

When he led her into the kitchen to put the beer away, Jake had to laugh. Her maroon and gray shirt perfectly matched his new truck. "What's funny?" she asked as he closed the fridge.

"I just realized my new truck is maroon with gray trim. Just like fucking A&M. I've gotta be the worst Longhorns fan around."

"You got a new truck?" she asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah. Thursday right after work, before I brought you dinner. Can't be late to meet you again."

"Seriously, you bought a new truck?" she asked, lips parted as she gaped up at him.

"Yeah, it was time. Still hoping the old one can get fixed up. I tend to like to hold onto things once I get attached to them."

"That sounds nice," she said, lacing her fingers with his while he took her on a tour of his condo. He showed her his bedroom and the balcony after she inspected all of the food he had out on the counter for later. And she just kept getting closer to him until they were right next to the couch.

The game was about to start, so Jake just went ahead and told her what he wanted her to know. "I think I'm getting attached to you, Reedy."

She closed her eyes and let her cheek come to rest on his chest. "Are you going to try to hold onto me?"

Jake wrapped his arms around her and said, "Yes."

----------------------------

I can't get enough of Jake (who even am I?). And I love Beer Boy being so snarky to Jake and so loving to Sugar. Reedy + Sugar = bffs? Thanks to @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 7

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johnsgunbelt · 8 months

Note

I am back again.

*rubbing my hands while sending you a sweet sweet ask*

Fem reader that takes Ghost to meet her Family even when they're Hella toxic, always berating her, judging her, making her feel as if she's not good enough.

When they see the behemoth of a man who has her back and won't hesitate to break theirs, they all scatter away with their tails tucked beneath them.

Major satisfaction for both Ghost and his sweet woman.

Please make it angst and have badass boyfriend Ghosty save the day.🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

Family Issues - Simon 'Ghost' Riley

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort,Angst,Fluff

It was no secret you hated your family. Your sister always tried to hit on every boyfriend you introduced, Your mom was emotionally abusive, and your father? Rarely around.

So when Ghost asked to meet your family you froze up and didn’t know what to say, of course he noticed. He asked why you looked upset and you sat him down on your couch.

“Well listen…My family isn’t uhm, functional and I just don’t think it’ll go the way you're expecting. I have no problem introducing you but you’re not gonna like it.” “Sweetie, trust me I won’t judge you for your family I know how you feel about ‘em.”

You smiled and rubbed your thumb over his hand. “Okay, I’ll call to see what day we can go over.”

You called around an hour later and sat outside on your porch smoking a cigarette. Your mother picked up, “What.” “Hello to you too, listen I have a boyfriend of a couple of years and he wants to meet you guys.” “Whatever, Saturday 5:00 I’ll make dinner.” “Great, love you.” But she hung up on you before she could even hear you say “Love you.” You put out your cigarette and just sighed.

You told Ghost and he marked it on the calendar and the day came before you even knew it. You sighed as you got ready to go over. And he decided to wear his mask but he did dress decently to go over. He waited for you by the front door as he saw you putting on some shoes. He smiled and gave you loads of compliments.

The drive was around 15 minutes and when you knocked on the front door your sister opened it and practically shoved you inside just to get closer to Ghost.

“Hey I’m Samantha, you can call me Sam-” “Ghost. I think I’ll just call you Samantha.” She rolled her eyes and he just walked in and made sure you were okay. He never introduced himself as Ghost unless he wanted to intimidate or he didn’t like the person, you assumed he didn’t like your sister.

You lead him over to the dining room table and sat down next to him

You both waited for your mother to come sit with you guys before you ate and she came in around 2 minutes later with your father and your sister.

“Hm, You must be the unfortunate one. I’m her Mother just call me Teressa though and this is her Father, Michael.” He shook both of their hands. Now mind you they didn’t get a good look at how tall he was or how buff he was. Hell they haven’t seen his face.

“So what unfortunate events lead you to meet my shithole of a daughter?” Your mom asked nonchalantly and you took a deep breath and began to get some food.

“Not unfortunate at all, In fact she’s a catch. Met her at a bookstore.” Your sister scoffed and looked at Ghost and tried to rub up on him and he glared at her.

“A catch? She’s a lazy pile of shit. Nothing special about this one.” Your father spoke up and then you just stood up to excuse yourself to the porch outside. And your sister was still trying to hit on Ghost but he was just not having it.

“You’re all fucking pieces of shit, Samantha has been trying to seduce me since I got here and she’s fucking hideous! You’re a mother, act like it, or don’t even bother trying to reach out at all. And you..How could you talk about your own DAUGHTER like that? You’re a horrible excuse for a father.”

Samantha ran off to her room teary eyed and it seemed like your father stood up to intimidate Ghost but he was 5'9 and Ghost is 6'4 and he stood up after your father. He immediately sat down and just kicked him out as your own mother started to cry as well.

Ghost walked out and found you giggling because you heard him sticking up for you and he took you to the car and drove you both to an ice cream place to calm down after the events that took place.

You were so grateful for him, and he couldn’t live without you. So it’s a win-win situation. You love him and he loves you…Just not your family.

I LOVED MAKING THIS AHHH!! Your requests never fail to impress me:)!

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muzansfangs · 1 year

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Blue jeans.

Starring: Muzan Kibutsuji x f!reader;

Format: one-shot;

Warnings: nsfw, modern au, age gap, reader is twenty-one, sugar daddy dynamics, car sex, semi-public sex, vaginal sex, oral sex (Muzan receiving), use of alcohol, cigarettes, vaginal fingering, size kink;

Plot: You were his addiction. Young, beautiful and full of life, you made him forget about his problems for hours, whenever you met. The day you two had crossed paths for the first time, he thought it was not going to be anything more than a simple one-night stand. “No feelings involved” he had told you. Then, why did he miss you whenever you left?

Track: Blue jeans — Lana del Rey "You were sorta punk rock, I grew up on hip hop, but you fit me better than my favorite sweater".

MASTERLIST FOR THE EVENT.

﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏﹏

He enjoyed your presence. As he now stared at your smooth, naked back facing him on his bed, he ran one hand through his curly, dark hair and sighed. He was not someone who grew attached to people. Feelings were foreign to him. Maybe he never learned how to love, or maybe love was never instilled into his heart. You, however, you had disrupted his whole life.

He blamed it on your laughter, or on the way your eyes glistened whenever you talked about something you liked. You were so innocent, at times. He loved the way your eyes widened and you hummed in delight, whenever he made you try some exotic dish you did not even know the existence of, until the menu was kindly handed to you by the gloved hand of a waiter.

He did not mind spoiling you.

You were young, your delicate features were a blessing to him. You were the sugar he needed in his sour life.

Glancing at your sleeping frame one last time, he reached his hand towards the nightstand, grasping his lighter and his cigarette pack. Another habit of his not even you could help him get rid of. He opened it absent-mindedly, only to realize it was the last one. Perhaps, it was truly time for a change then.

This cigarette was his last one. And you, you were the last woman he would have ever let step into his life. It was time to settle down, after all. He had spent too many nights in random downtown bars, hooking up with strangers he never remembered the name of, only to search for something he never found: warmth.

You were not supposed to be different. You were supposed to he as shallow as the others, but you were not.

It happened eight months ago. Chatting with your friends, drink in hand, you had caught his plum red eyes that infamous saturday night. Ignoring his presence was impossible. A man like him was too charismatic not to draw attention. The way you had tried to resist him, though, that had made him crave you. He stared at you from his stool, shooting captivating glances at you, trying to make you understand that he was demanding your attention. Defiantly, you barely locked eyes with him, almost making him lose his patience. In other circumstances, he would have probably picked someone else to give him the proper attention he demanded, but there was something about you that made his blood boil.

He wanted you that night.

When you suddenly stood up and slided onto the stool next to his one, still pretending not to see him, he chuckled. You were a delicacy, a rosebud in a nest of thorns ready to wound him, but he was old enough to know how to play his cards right.

“A double whisky, please” you asked the bartender, but Muzan interjected in your conversation.

“It’s on me” he smoothly said, half-lidded eyes staring at the liquid into his own glass.

It irked you. Did he just buy you a drink?

“Yeah, it’s on him” you replied sassily then, averting your eyes from the barman to look at him. He was handsome, elegant, older than you. His cologne pierced your nostrils as you leaned slightly closer to him to search for his eyes, the red eyes he had made sure you would have never been able to shake off of your mind ever again.

“Apparently, you’ve finally got the hint” Muzan lowly said, twirling the rum into the crystal glass before drinking it down in one gulp and gently settling it back onto the counter.

You grinned and propped your elbow onto the marble green surface in front of you, your chin rested on the palm of your hand as you watched the barman grasp a bottle to fill your glass. It was thrilling the way he felt so self-assured, his presence alone was enough to make your head spin.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I was just thirsty” you said, earning a chuckle from him.

“You could have asked the barmar to refill your glass from the table” he pointed out, shifting his position to turn his body around and face you properly.

Your cheeks flushed up and, when the glass of whisky was slided towards you, you were quick to grasp it to focus on something else that was not him. You failed so effortlessly though.

“What is it that you want?” you asked him eventually, raising your glass towards your mouth and biting down on the rim softly, before taking a sip of the liquor. It burned down your throat, just like his eyes burned on your skin.

Muzan did not miss his chance and let his eyes travel up and down your small frame. You were perfect, perfect for what he had in mind. Smaller than him, delicate and bold. Being a CEO took away his energy, he needed a distraction and you were a good one. Too precious not to ruin.

He leaned forward, his hot breath fanning your earlobe as he grinned and moistened his upper lip thoughtfully. It was clear that you were affected by his actions. He could see the way your breath hitched and the way your grip on the glass tightened significantly as he spoke “Frankly, just your mouth around my cock” he whispered only for you to hear.

Your eyes widened and you inhaled sharply, as his words sank in. He had no filters and you could not blame him for it. Why? It was probably the force of habit. A man like him could snap his fingers and obtain what he wanted right away. The thrill of doing such a dirty, lewd thing to a stranger, to a man like him, someone you would have probably never met again was tickling your most dark fantasies.

It took you several seconds to make up your mind. You sighed, gently setting your drink on the counter and glanced at your friends from above your shoulder. They were staring at you curiously, some of them probably wondering what you were about to do in excitement and some of them were honestly analyzing the scene with wary eyes. Indeed, the latter ones were the wisest.

“I have a dignity” you pointed out, darting your eyes back on Muzan.

“Growning up, you’ll find out there are things far way more valuable in life than what other people may think of you” he promptly replied, straightening his necktie casually. He seemed tired and not the kind of man who wanted to hurt you. He was not going to coax you into giving yourself away, he just hoped you would say him ‘yes’.

And you did.

As you two stumbled out of the bar fifteen minutes later, you knew you were probably going to either regret it for your whole life, or look back at it as an exciting adventure you had had with an older man on a boring night. He had told you his name was Muzan Kibutsuji. He had whispered it over your lips, right before pinning you against his car door.

His lips captured yours in a fervent kiss, holding your face with both of his huge hands, as his tongue entered your mouth with expertise and elicited a soft series of moans from your throat. It was not just his experience that blew your mind: it was him. It was clear as he unbuckled his belt, in the privacy of his car, and tangled his fingers through your hair.

He locked eyes with you, searching for the slightest sting of fear. He would have stopped immediately, if he had spotted it. Yet, there was just the hunger of anticipation in those glimmering eyes of yours and he firmly but carefully pushed your head down towards his crotch. With your eyes closed, you did your best to pleasure him. Your tongue twirled around the tip, right over the sensitive spot, making him groan softly in pleasure.

It was exactly what he needed. As you began to suck him off, you were slowly making his problems fade away and stress flow right into your warmth mouth. You almost gagged as he bucked his hips up in pleasure and he lolled his head back into the leather headrest, exhaling through his nostrils. When you were sure he was just going to let you finish him off like that, he surprised you.

“Stop” he breathed out, shifting on his seat to grasp the wallet from his pocket.

As he pulled out a condom from it and ripped it open with his teeth, you stared at him in both excitement and fear. Was he going to simply take you without a proper foreplay? You were about to point it out, when he grasped your jaw and planted a tender, passionate kiss on your lips to silence you.

“I am nothing like those dogs you are used to. I know how to properly stretch out a woman” he whispered, almost offended that you had thought so low of him.

“I didn’t—” you tried to apologize, but he simply scoffed and made the words die on your tongue as he pushed the thin fabric of your panties to the side and began to draw smooth figures eight on your bundle of nerves.

You moaned, blushing faintly in the dark car as you finally met a man who knew how to touch you properly. What did you expect? He was twice your years, a man of class, of power. He had told you himself he was not like the guys you were used to.

“You are beautiful, by the way” he whispered lowly, watching the way you arched your back as he thought you were wet enough to take another step. You hummed, squeezing your eyed shut as you adjusted yourself to his thick fingers. It was too much, it was overwhelming, and you could not believe what was truly happening.

He was so skilled that you had almost forgotten you were in a car, in a desert parking lot. You wanted him, you wanted him more than that, therefore you opened your eyes and gripped his wrist gently as a sign for him to stop his ministrations. You were ready for him. For all of him.

And as you straddled his lap, allowing him to guide your hips down to perfectly sink onto him, you knew things would have never been the same again. The thing was that, despite the rather brute way he had told you what he wanted from you, he did not just fuck you that night. The way his mouth hovered over yours, the way he held you so close to him, as if he was afraid you were going to slip away from him grasp, made feel something more.

There was loneliness in that passion, a void that needed to be filled.

Bouncing on his lap, you tugged at his hair, your thighs trembling as his shaft kissed your cervix and his mouth kissed the exposed skin of your neck. He had finally found it: the warmth of a young heart.

Now, putting his cigarette out on the silver ashtray he keeps on his nightstand, he grinned and rolled on his side. Resting his cheek on the pillow, he watched you. He never grew tired in doing it. You were a piece of art from a private collection, a gem. His fingertips glided down your naked back, trailing up towards the spine and grazing over the shoulderblades. You were his. You were his and no one else’s.

You hummed at the feeling, gently lifting your head to glance up at him. Your sleepy eyes always got him and, although he forced himself not to smile, you could swear his upper lip twitched.

“Hey…” you whispered softly, half-lidded eyes staring at him in adoration.

He did not say a word, he simply stroked your hair as if he wanted to lull you back to sleep. Yet, you had learned to read him and his poker face. There was something on the tip of his tongue.

“What is it?” you inquired, not moving an inch but keeping your eyes locked with his red ones.

“Nothing”.

“Liar. I know that look on your face. You want to ask me something. — you replied, sitting up and letting the silky blankets pool down over your waist — Speak up, Kibutsuji” you invited him to talk, poking his biceps with your index.

He loathed your childish ways to make him give up and talk, but he was almost defenseless in front of them. You were his greatest weakness.

“Actually, I got no questions for you. It’s just that… Well, I’m falling for you, I guess” he confessed.

Never in his life he had pulled down his mask like that. However, a love confession from him was overdued. He spoke his mind no matter what. He was not scared of his feelings for you. It was just that, for the first time ever, he did not want to ruin you, as he thought he wanted the night you two met.

You stared at him with your lips slightly parted, your cheeks heating up, as you scooted closer to him and snuggled into his chest. His chest, where you could hear his steady heartbeat, was your favore place to sleep. It comforted you.

“I love you too, Muzan” you mumbled, closing your eyes as you felt his arm flex and wrap you up into a tight embrace. There was no escape.

Maybe it was a trap, maybe it was the highway to paradise. You did not know for how long it would have lasted. All you knew was what you felt and, in that very moment, you wanted him as much as he wanted you.

Until you filled the void in his heart. Until it broke your bones. Until it hurt.

Tags: @mrskokushibo @doumadono @yazzzmints @tired-writer04 I dedicate this piece to you!❤️

#kibutsuji muzan x reader #muzan x reader #muzan x you #muzan smut #muzan x y/n #muzan kibutsuji x reader #demon slayer smut #muzan kibutsuji #demon slayer fanfic #demon slayer muzan

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podcastgirlsweek · 3 months

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Next week!

We've got one week to go, and I'm so excited! Podcast Girls Week is a week long prompt-based event where fans are encouraged to create works celebrating their favorite podcast women. The event will take place on July 8-14.

Ready to post? We'll be using the #podcastgirlsweek tag here on tumblr, and you can already start adding works to the currently unrevealed 2024 Podcast Girls Week collection on Ao3.

Monday: What about sad wet cat women? Highlight a podcast starring women in the leading role(s).

Tuesday: This too is yuri... Spotlight a F/F ship (or platonic or familial relationship between women if that’s your preference).

Wednesday: WIP Wednesday! We all have art/fic/meta we’ve been meaning to get to. This is your day to finally commit (as long as your WIP is about podcast women, of course.)

Thursday: Nobody understands her like I do… Recognize a woman from a podcast you think is niche and/or underappreciated.

Friday: God forbid women do anything. Celebrate a female villain. Defend your #problematic fave.

Saturday: Self-indulgence Saturday! Make something you’ve really wanted to make but haven’t because you thought it was too self-indulgent, niche, or silly.

Sunday: Free space!

Have questions? Check out the FAQ. Join the Discord while you wait!

Finally, you are always welcome to tag or @ this blog if you’re posting content about podcast ladies, and I will happily reblog it!

#ofc ao3 is down rn lol (ao3 why do you hate women) but that's ok. start posting to the collection when it's up again

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gurugirl · 1 year

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A Good Boy | 4. A Mistake

Summary: Y/n goes to an event with Leo for Valentine's Day and Harry's upset. Hurt feelings lead to a messy fallout.

Note: This is stepmon!reader x stepson!harry - both are adults in this story but don't read if you don't like it.

Word Count: 12,565

Warning: 18+ only, NSFW, smut, inappropriate & forbidden relationship, age gap, cheating, lying, angst

A Good Boy Masterlist

“M’not ready to leave,” Harry’s words were muffled as he spoke with his face smushed into the soft part of Y/n’s inner thigh. “I can skip my first class. I can skip them all.”

She laughed. He was adorable with wild curls and flushed cheeks. She almost gave in. Told him to just stay with her all afternoon and she’d skip tennis practice. They could finish off all those strawberries they bought on Saturday at the farmer’s market. But she knew better. And so did he. Their weekend had been nothing short of spicy and fun.

“You can’t skip your classes, Harry. As much as I’d love to laze here with you all morning we can’t.”

He sighed and laid his chin over the top of her thigh as he looked up at her. He’d woken her up like that. Nuzzled in between her thighs and softly licking her awake. He refused to go harder or faster so his slow, lazy tongue up and down her labia drove her mad. She got everything wet as he continued gently eating her out. He wanted to be extra gentle with her because he’d fucked her extra hard the night before. At her request. He made her come and then he pounded into her, biting into his lip hard, breaking the skin as he thrust into her harshly, stretching her out with every brutal thrust. He was getting a little better at holding off his orgasm. Though, last night he did have to keep pulling out to catch his breath. She was sighing and moaning and slick for him. And when she finally did come she was shaking and mumbling so loudly Harry had to laugh but then was abruptly interrupted by his own orgasm.

And so in the morning, he went easy. Delicate strokes with his tongue slipping through her crease and over her clit. She did ask him to go faster, harder, anything. But he shook his head with his eyes on hers and just continued lapping up her sweet, slippery, arousal. He wanted to make it last as long as possible. Didn’t want to rush her to her orgasm. Didn’t want it to be over because that meant it would be time for him to leave.

“When can I see you again?” He asked as he kneaded the underpart of her thigh softly.

“I’ll think of something. We’ll make it work. “

. . .

Tennis practice was more difficult than Y/n imagined. Her whole weekend had been full of Harry, which meant a lot of sex. And that meant she was a little sore in some spots so she wasn’t quite on her game. But the reminder of why she was feeling sluggish only made her smile.

And if it hadn’t been for the lack of actual sleep perhaps her body would have been more willing to work harder during practice. But being next to Harry in bed was akin to sitting at a table with her favorite dish plated and made just for her. With no one around to tell her not to taste or dig in. It was impossible to resist.

So they’d wake in the middle of the night or during a nap and slip together until they were satisfied. Hours of sleep were lost for Y/n over the weekend but she wasn’t upset about it all.

She realized that just the thought of him made her heart skip a beat. The smile that worked its way over her features and the tingle of excitement and the thrill of happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time pulled her through the few following days she didn’t get to see her Harry.

The Valentine’s Day party was on a Friday but Y/n wanted to see Harry so badly she could taste it. It had only been three days since she’d seen him but three days had her longing for him in a way she hadn’t expected.

Harry was doing his best to keep his thoughts from entering into the depths of the truth of what they were doing. Tried not wondering if Y/n had slept with his dad since he’d returned from the Hamptons. Tried not imagining how pretty she’d look at a Valentine’s Day party and what might happen later that night. But sometimes the mind wasn’t kind. And Harry could not stop imagining that she was naked and doing things to his dad that she’d done to him.

And when she called him as he was in the middle of letting his thoughts spiral the burst of hope that filled his muscles and his veins made his dimples dig into his cheeks as he answered.

“I was thinking I could come over tonight. To you. Do you think I could be sneaked in?”

He hadn’t expected her to ask to see him. He was sure she was doing fine without seeing him. Figured that while he was plucking the worst images from his tortured mind, she was off shopping and laughing with her friends. He knew she wasn’t that shallow, of course. It’s just that his thoughts weren’t allowing him any grace.

“Yeah. Definitely. Should be easy.”

It was easy. Harry was on the first floor and he was lucky enough to have his own room. She was able to walk right in without anyone spotting her. Not that most of the guys there would even know who she was.

There was no time for talk the moment the door was closed behind Harry. He pulled at her t-shirt and wrapped her in his arms and captured her lips in his.

She dropped her little bag onto the floor and moved her arms up and over his shoulders as she let him kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in months. That’s kind of how it felt. She’d missed his sweetness and his eagerness. Missed him.

“Mmmm… Harry… baby...” She whispered as he moved his lips down to her neck. “I missed you. God I just needed to see you so bad.”

Harry moaned as he dragged his mouth over her skin and up to her jaw, “I just need you so bad.” He was shaking to have her in his arms and in his room.

When he brought his mouth back to hers his hips pressed against her and she moved her hand down to his sweatpants and dipped a finger under the elastic band to feel his happy trail under her nails. He whined into her mouth and she smiled.

She had wanted to give him a blow job so badly all day. Which was unusual for her. She didn’t mind giving blow jobs but with Harry, the way he’d moan and whimper and beg her… she just loved how responsive he was to her.

“Let me suck you off. I want you in my mouth.” It was all she could think about when she drove across the city to go to him.

Harry’s chest was on fire and his heart was ravaging his ribs as she pulled his pants down and dropped to her knees. She spit on his tip and took him down her throat and focused her eyes up to him.

“Fuck, Y/n. I’m gonna come so fast. I’m sorry…” he frowned as he whined his words and carded his fingers into her hair. She bobbed up and down, slippery and warm on his cock, sucking and using her tongue to circle and slither over his skin the way he loved.

She just needed to show him how she was feeling. How much she missed him. Harry was so much more vocal than she was about how he felt and how much he needed her when they spoke on the phone. She kept her feelings a little closer to her heart. Not revealing as much but giving him bits and pieces. She wanted to tell him how much she missed him too but she also wanted to do the right thing in guarding his heart.

Of course, doing the right thing, well, they were way past that, she reasoned as she dipped down over him further and tasted the precome pushing out through his slit. They were so far beyond doing the right thing it shouldn’t have mattered. But she did want to protect him in some way and by not revealing that she missed him just as much as he missed her she thought he might be able to deal with the distance better.

In truth, she had no idea what she was doing. She’d never done anything like it before. She just hoped that at the end of whatever they were doing, they’d both be okay.

Harry groaned as he rolled his hips gently into her, his pink lips dropped open watching her mouth stretch around him, drool dripping down her neck, her eyes blinking up at him.

“Please… oh my god…” Harry gasped when she brought her lips up and suckled his tip, her tongue swirling and lapping just under his frenulum.

He came so fast it was embarrassing. She always did it to him. Always had him shaking and giving in to her so quickly. He didn’t know how she did it. Not even fucking his own hand was as quick. He was convinced it was some kind of sorcery she used on him but he knew what it was. He knew that she just did it for him like no one else did. He’d watched porn with hot women but none came close to how hot he thought Y/n was. No girl he’d ever met and dated or did anything sexual with at all did it for him the way Y/n did it for him. Her voice and her eyes and her confidence. He’d never been in love but if he were to fall for someone, if he wasn’t already, it would be for her.

Harry choked out a moan and his knees buckled the slightest as he throbbed and pumped hot come down her throat. She slurped and sucked it all down with her hands holding onto his ass, nails digging into his skin.

“Fuck!” He shouted when she pulled on his cock particularly hard to milk the last drop from him and then he laughed, his chest heaving.

A heavy knock cracked on his door, “All right in there Styles?” A male’s voice teased from behind the door.

Harry took a deep breath as Y/n pulled her lips off of his cock, “Fine. Thanks.” Harry shouted, not taking his eyes off his lover.

The pair lay in Harry’s full-sized bed with the radio on chatting about nothing. Harry had his arms wrapped around her middle with his head on her hip. He was like a big teddy bear that constantly wanted to be held and near to her. He just wanted to touch her and look at her. She loved how warm and touchy he was. Loved that he needed to physically be next to her when they were together.

“Tomorrow’s the party?” He hesitated to ask but couldn’t help himself.

“Yeah. Tomorrow. Got fitted for my dress earlier today. What did you do today, Harry?” It seemed like every time they were alone together and having a conversation they were lying and assembled jointly in one way or another with Harry squeezing her tight while she combed her fingers through his hair. It was maybe the best feeling she’d ever had with a lover. Ever. It was gentle and kind. Loving. Like there was no rush or reason to do anything other than to look at one another and be near to one another. Touching, smiling, kissing.

Harry had one class only and he finished an assignment due on Monday so he was ahead of schedule. The studious young man that he was.

“Hate that we can’t celebrate Valentine’s Day together,” Harry lifted himself to sit up, causing Y/n’s hands to fall away from his hair. His sudden change in demeanor had caught her off guard.

She pulled at his hand and sat up, “I know. I hate it too, Harry.”

“Do you hate it? Or are you just saying that so I feel better about all this?”

She squinted her eyes at him and shook her head, “What do you mean by that? Of course, I wish we could spend it together.”

Harry stood up from the bed and walked to his small kitchenette to grab a bottle of water, uncapping the lid and chugging a big gulp before turning and lifting the bottle, “Want some water?”

Y/n climbed off the bed and slowly walked toward Harry. Not understanding the mood change, “No. I’m okay right now. Thank you. But please continue with the previous thought. Explain what’s going on in your head.”

“I’m just…” he shook his head and sighed and walked past her to sit on the edge of his bed. “I don’t know. I know what this is. You and me. But feels like it’s just me who really wants more. Feels like, you’re doing just fine. You know?” He looked up at her as she followed him to where he was sat on the bed.

“No. I don’t know. You think I’m not just as excited to see you as you are me?” She stepped herself in between his legs and brushed her fingers over his forehead and into his hair. Perhaps she should start being more open with him about her feelings. But then again, that could make things even worse in the long run.

“No,” he laughed incredulously. “I don’t think you are. You don’t understand how I feel. How much I want you. And it’s not fair for me to feel this way because I knew all along what this was. But I can’t help it.”

Pausing her hand in his hair, she pulled her fingers out and nudged at his chin so he’d look up at her, “Where’s this coming from? You know how much I like you, Harry. You’re all I can think about.”

He searched her pretty face as she stood over him and shook his head, “You don’t understand how I feel. You don’t feel the same way I feel for you.”

She stepped away and rubbed her hands down her face. She couldn’t force him to believe her but she was sure she was feeling just the way he was. The intense longing she felt for him for the last three days told her as much.

“What do you want me to do, Harry? Should I leave, Leo? You and me, we can just run off into the sunset and never turn back? Will that prove to you how I feel?”

Harry stood up and paced from the kitchenette to his window and back, “You won’t though. I know it. You won’t leave my dad. You don’t have the balls to do that. You need his money and that big house and that huge ring you’re wearing…”

Y/n looked down at her wedding ring and felt a blanket of shame cover her body and pool around her feet as he continued.

“You wouldn’t do that because if you do that then you’ll be stuck with a boy. I can’t provide for you and buy you a nice car or take you on lavish vacations. I can’t compete with my dad on any level.”

Shaking her head as he spoke she was feeling insulted. A bit angry. But she knew he was speaking from a place of hurt.

“Harry…” she approached him and put her palms over his chest and looked up at him, “Stop. I’m here with you because my feelings for you are far greater than I can really even comprehend. You don’t need to compete with Leo or anyone. You’re better than anyone I’ve ever met. You can choose not to believe me but I’m here with you because I couldn’t be away from you a moment longer. I missed you. I needed you.”

He pulled his lips into his mouth as she spoke.

“Do you hear me? Harry I… I want to be so careful with you because you’re so special to me. I…” she sighed and looked up into his big green eyes, her hands traveling up his neck to keep his attention on her, “I want you. You’re better than your dad. To me, you are. I’ve missed being with someone I’ve felt this way for. As for your dad? I don’t feel this way. Harry, you are… god…” she started to tear up as she spoke. Unable to finish her thought as he pulled her into his arms and hugged her tight.

“I’m sorry I said those things. I’m just so jealous and I hate this. I don’t think you’re that way. I know you’re better than that. It was rude for me to say that.” He spoke into her hair.

He felt ridiculous. Harry could be emotional. He tended to allow his sensitive nature to get the best of him at times and this was one of them. He hated that he’d insulted her the way he did but it just fell out of his mouth before he could think. He wished he could take it back.

“I know, baby. I know you didn’t mean it. I know you know me better than that.”

Harry pushed his mouth to hers in haste. His emotions were too much to handle. He couldn’t talk anymore or he’d just get worked up again. He didn’t know how he was going to stay sane the following evening while Y/n was spending Valentine’s Day with another man.

His forceful kiss to her mouth was met with a pinch to her hips as he pushed her back into his bed. “Need you…” he breathed against her lips as he pulled her shirt off and she settled onto the bed and scooted back as he crawled after her, putting his fingers into the band of her shorts and pulling them down.

She wore the sweetest little lacy pink bra with a tiny bow at the center and matching panties that barely covered anything. When he caught sight of what she’d worn under her clothes he thought he could cry again. Had she done this for him?

In fact, she had. After getting fitted for her party dress she stopped at La Perla and picked out the little set. The bra didn’t give her much support but it wasn’t meant to be practical. It was meant to be sweet and pretty. She looked through the various shades and fabrics and tried on strappy pieces with black leather and soft white lace. She put on a bright red bra and thong set she wound up buying, but the pink lace with bows and delicate straps reminded her of Harry. How soft and intimate it looked. So pure and sheer but sexy. And when she put it on all she could think of was how it matched his lovely personality. His tenderness. The way he was so delicate with her and how big his heart was. It felt like what he’d pick for her if he were with her.

“Do you like it?” She smiled at him as he let his fingertips brush over the little bows at her hips and the lace along the edge and up her tummy to the bralette where her tits were spilling out the smallest bit.

“I fucking love it. Y/n,” he looked up at her with a pained face, brows scrunched, and shiny eyes. “You’re… so pretty. Prettiest woman I’ve ever seen and, god,” he pushed his thumb into the fabric that covered her breast and poked at her nipple, “More than just pretty. You’re phenomenal. In every way.”

She hadn’t expected him to give her this response. She knew he’d probably like it. Figured he’d give her some attention while she was wearing it and then he’d want it off but to see his eyes tear up was unexpected.

She cupped his cheek with her palm and spoke quietly, “I bought it for you. I’m really glad you like it.”

Harry let out a shaky breath as he caged her in, arms on either side of her waist, and then scooped her into his arms, holding her tight to him, “Fuck. You’ve got my head spinning, Y/n.”

She let him take the lead. He eventually pushed his boxers down and insisted she keep the set on while he made love to her. He said that. Love. She got hot and felt herself begin to get emotional at his words and his soft touches.

“Keep it on,” he put his hand over hers before she could push the pink fabric down her hips, “Want to make love to you while you’re in this. Show you how much I appreciate the gift.”

And show her his appreciation he did. He pulled the material to the side gently and licked at her until he was so hard it ached and he began whining, not able to handle not being inside of her any longer.

He slowly pushed her legs apart and dragged his nose and lips up from her hips to her tits and then to her neck before sneaking a hand down to keep the crotch to the side as he slowly pushed into her. Always loving and craving the initial plunge. The little muscle at her entry stretching wide open for him.

The bed in his room was squeaky. It wasn’t as sturdy as the one in his room at Leo’s house but with the way he was fucking into her slowly, long and deep strokes, there wasn’t too much of a racket. The slow bounce of the mattress springs was all that could really be heard over the radio. A few moans and soft gasps.

Harry went from watching her face as he bottomed out, stuffing himself into her as far as he could reach, to kissing her while slowly rolling his hips into her.

He could feel the lace on his shaft as he thrusted, and he enjoyed the way it irritated the smooth, velvety skin on his cock. He hoped it left a mark. One to match the mark she’d left on his heart.

“Harry…” she breathed his name as he looked deep into her eyes. It felt so intense this way with him. He was moving into her so slowly but pushing in so deep her toes curled every time his balls were tucked up to her bottom, “I need you…” she panted as she scratched her nails down his back.

He began to shake with the way his heart was pumping so hard. His mind was a blur and the wetness between them felt so warm and perfect that he didn’t think he’d ever be able to recover from the moment. She went to visit him. She wore something special just for him. She said she needed him.

And it was too much to verbalize exactly how he felt. He wasn’t quite in control of his thoughts in that moment as he kissed her mouth and plunged into her as she panted and licked her tongue against his. “Y/n… please stay with me,” his teeth were clenched as he spoke the words on accident. It was only meant to stay in his head, that statement. But it came out and he gasped when she lifted her legs to wrap around his back and pressed her heels into his ass to push him in deeper.

“I’m here with you all night, baby,” she spoke against his lip.

Harry moaned and pushed himself so he could look down at her, never ceasing his movements into her, “I mean stay with me. Be with me. Me and you,” he dipped down to kiss her again feeling the heat of ecstasy travel up his spine.

“I want to stay with you,” her words were breaths against his lips. It was the only way she knew how to respond. Because she couldn’t stay with him like he suggested and he knew that. But she could tell him that she wanted to.

The bed under her slowly gave way to their weight with Harry’s hips pressed against hers every time he bottomed out and it was giving her the perfect friction. His lips on hers and puffs of breath from his nose made her feel like she was encased in him. It was all she wanted.

“You feel so good, baby. I’m gonna come. You’re gonna make me come…” she whined as she felt him tremble and his hips began to roll a bit faster. She could feel that he was just as close as she was.

Harry lifted up again to look down at her, never ceasing the decadent roll of his hips, “Want to watch it. Want to see how you look when you come on my cock,” he whispered over her.

His eyes were dark with lust but the tip of his nose was red as if he’d just been crying. Perhaps he had been.

“Yes baby, yes… yes… yes…” his deep plunges through her insides and pushing her walls apart had her knocked upward over and over. He kept himself deep inside, never pulling back, only fucking into her so that his tip could get into her deep, so she could feel him inside of her tummy and pressing into all her parts, claiming them as his.

They rocked together, Harry’s thighs working himself into her slowly and deeply until her release finally snapped and she moaned loudly.

“Don’t look away, please, look at me,” Harry gasped as he felt her begin to spasm around him. She brought her gaze back to his and her orgasm exploded at the look on his face. He came the moment she looked back at him. Both of them forced themselves to keep their eyes open to watch as the other came from their connected bodies. Harry’s deep groans and raspy, breathy whines met with Y/n’s soft coos and choked moans. He was so deep inside of her, pressing himself even deeper as he poured into her, letting his come coat her insides in ownership. He wanted to make her his.

A sick and twisted little part of his brain hoped her implant wouldn’t work this time. That he could knock her up and she would have to leave Leo and then she’d be his and he could have her. Keep her.

“Fuck, baby…” she yelped when he gave her one last rough push. Wanting that little bit to just make a difference somehow.

Harry kept his eyes on hers and he watched her features relax and she smiled, bringing a hand up to his face, “You’re amazing, Harry. The best I’ve ever had.”

His grin was tranquil and flirtatious. She loved his cheek. His confidence. She also loved his softness and how sensitive he was. It was the best of both worlds and she never realized she’d need it so much in a lover.

“Yeah? I keep hearing you say that and I think I’m gonna start believing it soon.”

She laughed with her thumb at his temple, softly rubbing the skin next to his eyes, “You should just believe me when I say it. Take my word for it.”

It was true. She felt so connected to him. So deeply intertwined that she was positive there was no one better. No one who could make her feel like he did.

Y/n had told Leo she was with Gina. That she’d been at the spa with her and got waxed and ready for the party and had too many glasses of wine so she couldn’t drive home. That was her excuse as to why she couldn’t come home Thursday evening when she was spending it with his son.

And Harry didn’t have classes on Fridays so they slept in until nearly 10 am before Y/n realized she needed to go and actually get waxed otherwise Leo would realize she’d lied to him. And it was going to be a last-minute thing anywhere she could get in without an appointment so she knew she had to get going with the party starting at 5. She also still had to go pick up her dress after the final alterations were complete.

It was always the same, leaving him. He didn’t want her to go. She didn’t want to go. But it was necessary. And she left the sweet little pink set behind to keep in his room, “This is just for you to see. Not for anyone else. Okay?” She said when she put the fabric on his bed before kissing him goodbye and leaving.

. . .

Harry loved that Y/n came to visit him. It felt like they were a couple when they were alone together. He could see them being together. Imagined it all the time. But he knew the deal. She wasn’t his. Though, she did tell him some things that made him feel like she was at least, in part, his. But that didn’t change the reality.

He was spending Valentine’s Day by himself. He had a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle bourbon his dad got him for his birthday. He fully intended to treat the $300 bottle kindly. It was meant to be sipped slowly. Enjoyed for a special occasion. But when he thought of how Y/n was on his dad’s arm, probably at that very moment, accompanying him to a Valentine’s Day party, thought about how his dad didn’t care for her the way he did, didn’t cherish her and dream about her and stop himself in the middle of a mundane task to smile as his heart throbbed when he imagined her smile and her laugh. That his dad was fucking someone else who lived nearby and took her on a weekend away with him… How could any sane man want to be with anyone else once they had Y/n? Harry couldn’t imagine it. Couldn’t fathom it.

“Fuck it,” he spoke to himself as he got up and crossed the room to pull the bottle out of the cabinet. He grabbed a glass and looked down at it before deciding he was going to just drink straight from the bottle. The highest form of disrespect for such a sought-after bourbon. A middle finger to his dad. And to the entire situation he was in really.

Placing the glass back in the cupboard he picked up the bottle at the neck and brought the 90-proof liquor with him to the small couch that sat across from his television.

Harry wasn’t much of a drinker. He’d had alcohol a good handful of times but usually at frat parties where it was provided for him. And he certainly never drank alone.

Peeling the foil off the cap and tossing it to the floor, he pulled the top and cork out of the bottle and placed it on the coffee table in front of himself.

He didn’t have anywhere to be the following morning so that was good, he figured. Better to have the morning open in case of a hangover. And he’d have all day Sunday to finish his homework.

And with that thought, he leaned forward to grab the bottle, brought the opening of the neck to his lips, and took his first pull of the evening.

. . .

Y/n was wearing her newly altered peach silk dress. The alterations were simple. The straps and hem were adjusted and the back column was dropped down a bit to drape to her low back. Her strappy nude heels were well-worn but comfortable because she was just simply not in the mood to wear the stiff, new heels she’d just bought.

The estate of Rebecca Manera was impressive. Probably equally as impressive as Leonardo Styles’. Most of the guests had already arrived by the time the Styles’ walked through the front door a little late.

Leo had scolded Y/n for taking so long to get ready and making them run behind but in all honesty, she didn’t give a fuck. They could be half an hour late. No one would care. Why rush to go to a party? It’s not like they needed to clock in and earn a paycheck.

“It’s rude, Y/n. That’s why it matters. You’re so goddamn rude sometimes. You only think about yourself.”

She turned sharply to look at her husband in shock. That was the first time he’d ever said such a thing to her. Normally he had no opinion on how she conducted herself. She was chronically late. Yes, she could admit that was a flaw in her character but she was on time when it really counted. But to get so worked up over a party? And to insult her on top of it?

That had set the whole mood for the night. And now she was even more suspicious about this Rebecca.

But when Rebecca did make her appearance and introduced herself to Y/n she was taken aback. The woman had to be in her 50s. She was pretty, sure, but not quite Leo’s type. If Y/n were any sort of indicator of a type.

Waiters walked around with trays and served the couples in attendance. There were only ten couples there as well as Rebecca’s two daughters, Y/n learned. Quite the intimate affair really.

Leo brought a glass of wine to Y/n as she chatted with Mrs. Topman (she never learned her first name, as the woman literally introduced herself as Mrs. Topman).

“Here you are darling.” His green eyes shined down at her before searching the room casually. She was on to Leo. But she found it odd that the woman he was with in the Hamptons was Rebecca. She was intrigued.

She watched Rebecca mingle and sip wine and laugh and there was nothing there that made Y/n think Leo would be interested in her sexually. But maybe that was it, Y/n thought to herself as she cocked her head to the side watching the woman speak boisterously. Maybe it wasn’t sexual. Maybe it was a woman he felt a deeper connection with than he did with Y/n. Perhaps it hadn’t started sexual but led there.

The snack table was set up with decadent treats. Y/n picked up a toast smeared with something pink, topped with heart-shaped tomatoes on top as she scanned the room for Leo, wondering where he’d gone off to. It hadn’t been that long but knowing about Rebecca being with him made things feel like she was in some kind of true crime detective story and was trying to get to the bottom of a mystery. Though there was no crime being committed, she could entertain herself with that thought.

“Are you enjoying your time tonight?”

Y/n turned her sight to Rebecca who was next to her picking up the same toast with pink schmear.

“It’s amazing. Your home is so lovely, Mrs. Manera,” she smiled and noted the woman’s massive diamond ring in addition to her massive diamond wedding ring.

“Why thank you. Phineas has put in so much work to make this large shell into a lovely cozy home.”

Y/n nearly spat her bite out. The home was anything but cozy.

“It’s incredible. Where is Mr. Manera tonight?”

“Oh, just over there,” she pointed to a man in tweed with thick black-framed glasses, “You haven’t met yet?”

Rebecca led the way as Y/n walked in her wake to meet Mr. Manera. She had still not spotted her own husband.

“Phineas, dear, this is Mrs. Styles. Leonardo’s wife.”

The man held his hand out, “Very nice to meet you, Mrs. Styles.”

“Likewise. You can call me Y/n.”

“Well, Y/n. We’re happy to have you here. Where’s Leo anyway? Haven’t seen him.”

Turning around quickly to look over her shoulder she shrugged and faced the man and his wife again, “Not sure actually. I haven’t seen him in a bit myself,” she laughed. And before she could even think about what she was implying she spoke to Rebecca, “But I’m sure you’ve seen enough of him since you saw him in the Hampton’s this weekend.”

Rebecca and Phineas’ smiles dropped as they looked at one another and then back to Y/n, “I haven’t been to the Hamptons in over a decade. Are you sure you’re not mistaking me for Parker? Our daughter? She was just there all weekend with her girlfriends.”

She blinked her eyes and looked between the pair and cocked her head, “Oh. I’m sorry. I must be mistaken. I thought Leo said…” She shook her head not wanting to finish that sentence. It dawned on her that Leo had been with their daughter. Parker. Or, at least that’s what it was starting to look like. An interesting turn of events.

And it wasn’t much longer after that small discovery that Y/n spotted her husband. He was holding a glass of wine and speaking with a couple, laughing casually and acting as if he hadn’t been missing for nearly thirty minutes.

“There you are. I’ve been looking for you.” Y/n squeezed his arm as she took her place next to him.

Leo looked down at his wife and grinned, “Oh? I’ve been around. Here and there. I did go outside for a bit to get some air.”

Liar.

As cold and closed off as Leo could be, she knew when he wasn’t being forthright with her. But she wouldn’t call him out on any of it. How could she? She’d keep the information close to her chest. Something to hang onto for another day. She was curious about Parker, though. Not sure which of the two daughters she was. She’d only met one but never got the young lady’s name as there was another woman talking Y/n’s ear off. That daughter had been quite young, though. Harry’s age. Y/n knew the other daughter was closer to Y/n’s age.

Another three glasses of wine and a slow song with some lovey-dovey lyrics had Y/n feeling a bit sentimental. She was wishing Harry was there. Wishing she could catch his eyes from across the room. Wishing she could pull him into a corner and kiss his warm mouth and run her fingers through his curls.

It wasn’t as if the party was boring or anything. Well… okay. It was quite boring. It was just a bunch of rich people in a massive house worth millions drinking expensive wine, wearing expensive clothes, and pretending to care about what was going on around them.

Y/n watched as Leo’s eyes followed a pretty brunette with a slim nose and a long neck traipse across the room toward the bar for another glass of wine. The young woman looked to be Y/n’s age. Perhaps even a little older. She was very pretty. Her dress was flattering and she had a slim waist and curvy hips. This one- this one, Y/n thought, was more Leo’s taste.

Maybe it was the four glasses of wine or maybe it was just her natural penchant to be outspoken and assertive, but she decided to introduce herself to the woman. Find out her name. Look into her eyes and determine if this woman had actually been with her husband all weekend.

Y/n wasn’t necessarily jealous. She did feel a bit betrayed though. Her husband had lied to her in some way. She knew that much. Knew that he’d been talking to someone on the phone in hushed tones as Harry told her he’d overheard his dad. Knew that a woman had chirped excitedly next to him when he’d been on the phone with her while he was in the Hamptons and that Leo sounded like he was quickly trying to think of a reason why there’d be a woman there when he mentioned the Valentine’s Day party.

Rebecca was a great cover. She was in her 50s and he thought that once Y/n laid eyes on her all her questions would be quashed and she’d forget all about it. But he hadn’t anticipated Y/n to open her mouth and mention the Hamptons to Mrs. Manera.

“Hi,” Y/n sidled up to the brunette, “I’m Y/n Styles. I don’t think we’ve met yet.” She motioned to the bartender for another glass of wine. Probably a bad idea. She would certainly feel five glasses in the morning.

The young woman gave herself away immediately as her eyes widened and she opened her mouth for a moment, searching the room quickly before returning her sights to Y/n, “Uh… oh, hi! I’m Parker Manera, Phin and Rebecca’s daughter.”

Y/n watched her nervously sit her glass down and wipe her hands down her expensive dress and then pick her glass up again before shifting on her feet with a forced smile on her face.

“Oh! You’re Parker. Your mom and dad were just telling me about how you were in the Hamptons all weekend. It’s such a small world,” she laughed lightly and placed her free hand at her hip in a show of confidence, “My husband Leo was there last weekend too. What a funny coincidence.” She smiled widely as she kept her eyes on Parker’s.

The poor thing swallowed harshly and looked down at her glass before letting her eyes dart around the room again, most likely in search of Leo, “Oh. Yeah. Uh… huh…” She took a sip of her wine and then looked at Y/n, “Yeah, that is a coincidence.”

. . .

Harry was trying to pay attention to his best friend as he gave him a pep talk. But it was useless. He couldn’t ever understand what Harry was going through and he had no idea that he’d been sleeping with his stepmom.

“Don’t worry man. Not every Valentine’s Day is going to be spent alone like this. You’re still young, dude!” Tyler said, trying to cheer him up. Only Tyler didn’t realize what Harry’s real issue was. He just thought Harry was depressed because he was still single and a virgin.

Harry had called Tyler and asked him to come over to share the bottle of bourbon with him. He realized early on that he would not be able to drink the whole bottle alone, nor did he want to.

“I know. Just feels shitty. You know my dad and Y/n are at a party tonight. With a bunch of other assholes probably. Sounds so boring. Would hate to spend a romantic day out with rich assholes.” Harry was only on his third glass of whisky but the stuff was strong and he was feeling the alcohol burning in his gut and winding through his veins, impairing his thoughts and his emotions.

Tyler laughed, “Yeah, but after their boring night out they can go home and shag. Unless your dad’s too old for that,” Tyler joked before taking a healthy swig and looking at the TV that was on as background noise.

Harry frowned and felt himself nearly gag at the thought. That was exactly the kind of thing he was trying not to think about, “What’s wrong with you? You’re a dick sometimes you know that?”

“Sorry. You probably don’t want to think about your dad fucking your hot stepmom do you?” He teased.

Only it wasn’t funny to Harry. Not at all. He was spiraling and he’d called his friend as a distraction yet here they were discussing a topic that was a punch to the gut and had Harry surging with jealousy and hurt.

“Shut the fuck up, man. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Harry barked and stood up from the couch to pace his room, “I fucking hate this!” He ran his hands into his hair and felt his anger peak.

“Whoa. Okay. Sorry dude. Wasn’t trying to get you upset. It was a joke.”

“Yeah? But it’s not a joke. That’s what’s gonna happen. She’s gonna go back home with my prick of a dad and fuck him. Because it’s Valentine’s Day. And that’s what couples do on Valentine’s Day.”

Tyler looked at Harry in confusion as Harry pulled at his roots and sniffed, his nose red and his eyes bloodshot, “She’s fucking him and she’s not even… Goddamnit!”

“What’s going on Harry? Are you okay?” His friend stood up, suddenly aware that Harry was not doing well at all.

“No. I’m not fucking okay,” he sighed and shook his head before looking at his friend, “I’ve… you can’t say anything to anyone, okay?” He continued pacing.

Tyler nodded, still standing up, not moving from his spot, “Of course. You know any secret you have is safe with me.”

Harry stopped his restless motions and dropped his arms by his side, “Y/n and I… we’ve been seeing each other,” he looked down before he could watch Tyler’s expression. “We’ve been sleeping together.”

Tyler’s silence indicated his shock. He had not been expecting to hear that from Harry. All the times they’d teased him about getting with her they were just kidding. No one ever thought that it would actually happen.

Harry resumed his confession, “And it’s been really good. We like each other too. My dad’s a dick. He’s sleeping with another woman. Which is allowed, but… nah… that’s a long story. I’m,” Harry looked directly back at his friend and approached the couch before plopping down heavily over the cushions, “fucking sad. I’m a mess over it.”

Tyler sat down next to his friend and nodded, “So you and Y/n. And that means you’re not a virgin? She’s the one that…” his words faded out, letting the context fill in the blanks.

Harry nodded, “Yeah.”

“Well, fuck man. I’m sorry. Here,” Tyler leaned forward and grasped the bottle, handing it to Harry, “sounds like you need some more of this.”

. . .

Y/n wasn’t mad. Not at all. Nor jealous. But she would keep this information tucked away for a rainy day perhaps. Or maybe it would never be brought up. It did, however, make her feel a bit less guilty for her own insolence.

And she wondered what he had been up to when he disappeared. She imagined that he’d been with Parker. Doing what exactly? Well, she had some ideas about the nature of what they were doing. In fact, part of her did hope maybe he’d gotten his needs taken care of. Hoped that he wouldn’t want anything from her that evening because she was completely satisfied with how well she’d been treated just that very morning by Harry.

That was only going to get trickier as time went on. The more time she spent with Harry, the less she wanted to spend any time with Leo. And she was still irked at him for the comment he made to her before they left for the party. She planned to use that as an excuse for not having sex with him if he tried to initiate. But excuses would dwindle eventually. She couldn’t keep pushing off sex with her husband.

She and Leo said their goodbyes as everyone began to leave the party as normal. Most people were grabbing their jackets and purses and Y/n was shaking Phineas' hand when Leo leaned into Y/n and spoke quietly, “I’ll be right back, dear. Wait for me in the car.”

Fifteen minutes. She waited for 15 minutes for her husband and she knew what he was up to. Or at least in part. And that– that did piss her off. The disrespect of it. She shot off a quick text to Harry wishing she was with him. Wishing she could just drive her husband’s car to Harry’s dorm and stay with him for the night. Finish off her Valentine’s Day properly.

Are you awake still?

It was almost midnight and a Friday night so she assumed he would be awake but by the time Leo made it to the car, Harry still hadn’t seen the text yet.

“What were you doing, Leo?” Y/n looked at his side profile as he began to drive down the long driveway to the gate to exit.

“I had to use the bathroom,” he placed his palm over his stomach and blew out a big, dramatic breath. “Think I ate too many crab cakes.”

Another lie. But also something to bring up should he want anything intimate from her tonight. A stomachache was an automatic no for sex.

“Let me drive, then. If you’re not feeling well that could be dangerous.” She didn’t mind playing dumb.

“Oh, it’s okay. I took some Pepto Rebecca offered me and I think I’ll be okay.”

“Okay. Good. That was nice of her. She was lovely to chat with. I really enjoyed the party. Phineas is also a hoot,” she exaggerated with a smiley tone. “Oh, and their daughters!” Y/n turned to watch his face as she continued, “What’s the younger one’s name again?”

“I think it’s Iris. No, Ivy. I think Ivy.” He answered as he nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.

“And then their older daughter, Piper. She was–“

“Parker.” Leo interrupted.

He took the bait and he didn’t even know it.

“What?” Y/n acted confused.

“Her name is Parker. You said Piper. I was just correcting you.”

Y/n smiled to herself, “Oh. I really thought she told me Piper. But I guess you’d know better than me.”

Leo’s body language did not change whatsoever. He was cool as a cucumber but man was he dumb. He didn’t have to act differently for her to know he was lying straight to her face. No, his answers gave him away.

“Anyway, as I was saying, Parker was really sweet. Talked about what we did last weekend. I told her all about the girls and how we go out for girl’s night every other Friday. Even invited her to come to our next one.” She lied.

She watched his throat bob as he swallowed, “Why’d you do that?” He turned to glance at her before looking back to the road.

Y/n couldn’t stop smiling. She was just having a bit of fun. It was also most definitely the five glasses of wine she’d had, “Because I like her! She’s my age and I feel like we have a lot in common. Oh! And it’s so funny, Leo. You won’t believe this! She was also in the Hamptons last weekend! And it’s wild that she had no idea that her mom was there when I told her that you saw Rebecca while you were there,” she shook her head dramatically and laughed. “Crazy.”

His jaw clenched but he remained quiet. Perhaps she’d taken it a bit too far. Now maybe she’d just given away that she knew something. But she just shrugged and turned to look out the window. She couldn’t wait for her bed. She just hoped that Harry would give her a goodnight text before she went to sleep like he usually did.

But he didn’t. She showered and plugged her phone in and checked her messages and still nothing.

Y/n was thankful Leo didn’t seem interested in having sex. She silently thanked Parker for a job well done as her head hit the pillow and she closed her eyes and drifted to sleep.

Sensing light through her eyelids, she slowly blinked her eyes open. It took a moment to climb out of her wine-induced groggy haze but when she realized it was her cellphone she quickly rolled to her side to reach for it.

“Hello?” She spoke quietly and sat up against her pillows.

“Sound so pretty,” Harry’s words were watery and disconnected. “You with my dad?”

Y/n knew right away he was drunk. She grinned and shook her head as she responded, “No. I’m in my room. Where are you?” She was just happy to hear his voice, despite him being inebriated.

“My room. Tyler’s passed out. Drank some whisky so I didn’t have to think about you and my dad fucking. Didn’t work.”

The grin fell from her face, “What? Harry, we didn’t. But–“

“Bet you did. Probably trying to just make me feel good,” his speech was difficult to understand as his tongue seemed to be getting in the way, but she could clearly interpret his bitter tone.

“You should get some sleep. I’ll call you in the morning.”

“So you can go back to having sex with another man?”

“Stop it, Harry. I was asleep just now. In my own room. We can talk in the morning when you’ve sobered up.” Her voice was quiet as she spoke into the receiver.

As much wine as she’d had at the party, Harry had clearly had a lot more alcohol in his system.

“F’course. Would hate to disturb you. Just a nuisance to you anyway…” his volume dropped as his words trailed off.

“You’re not a nuisance to me. It’s why I answered. Was excited to hear your voice. Now, go to sleep, Harry. Okay? You’ll feel better in the morning.”

He actually probably would not feel better in the morning if his current state was any indicator.

The phone was silent but she could still hear him rustling around, sniffing, “Harry?”

“Y/n.” He said mockingly.

“Are you okay?” She knew she should probably just hang up but didn’t want to make things worse.

“No. I’m not.”

“I think you worry too much. You should go to sleep, baby.”

“Mmm… Sounds so nice. But I think it’s not fair is it?”

Y/n sighed and held her phone out to see what time it was before putting the receiver back to her ear, “What’s not fair?”

“You can fuck other people. You do too. You’re fucking my dad. I should go be able to fuck other people too if I want. Tyler told me I should.”

Y/n gulped down the upset and tried to keep herself level. He was drunk and not thinking straight. And the comment about Tyler had her wondering if his friend knew about their affair.

“Let’s discuss it when you’re feeling better tomorrow. You’re drunk, Harry. I don’t think this conversation will go anywhere good if we keep talking while you’re so upset.”

“Should have known. Yeah. We’ll see.”

Y/n opened her mouth to respond but he’d hung up. She heard the click and then the silence of her room enveloped her completely as her phone went dark with the ended call.

It was nearly 3:30 in the morning and lying back into her bed and closing her eyes did not bring sleep like she hoped. Instead, her mind went into overdrive considering all the things Harry had said.

And he was right. He should be allowed to do as he pleased. To sleep with others. He should. It would be healthier for him. For her. What they were doing was a mistake. It wasn’t going to end well and Harry’s words rang in her head for hours.

She hated the idea of him sleeping with anyone else but that was not fair. How could she expect him to only sleep with her when she was married to his father and sleeping with him? Though she hadn’t slept with Leo since before she and Harry started their affair. Still. At some point, Leo would expect something and she’d need to give him something.

So, instead of sleeping, she wound up writing in her journal with a mug of Ceylon, hot ginger, and lemon tea. She wrote down her feelings and the things she’d tell Harry. The things that needed to be said.

They couldn’t continue on as they were. They were both going to get hurt and she didn’t want to imagine hurting Harry more than he was. She could tell this was hurting him. When she’d seen him Thursday night he expressed some hurt feelings.

And as hard as it would be, she had to break it off. Had to end their affair because they would both only get more attached. The sooner the better.

He’d hate it. He’d fight her on it, she just knew it. He’d plead with her. He’d say something that would make her waver. Make her want to just give in and let him have his way. But it wasn’t healthy. It was a relationship that could never be revealed. His father couldn’t know. And the thought of leaving her current situation to be with Harry felt ridiculous.

Yes. It was ridiculous. Because she was 27 and he had just turned 21. And he was her stepson. Ridiculous to consider leaving Leo because then what? Harry might not even feel the same way for her in six months. A year. Five years. And she’d be back to square one because leaving Leo meant leaving everything he’d given her behind. Of course, there was a prenup involved in their marriage. That had been the plan all along. She knew going into it that this was how it would be. Should they ever divorce, she gets nothing really. As it should be, she surmised. She wasn’t entitled to anything from Leo if the arrangement was called off. She would have nothing.

She had no career. No money of her own. Very few things she’d bought herself.

Her mother would just say I told you so. Which would be well deserved.

So to stop their little thing as soon as possible was better than waiting until it all blew up in their faces. She hated the thought of not being able to kiss him or chat with him about personal and private things only a lover should know. She’d miss his flirtatious banter and the little pinches he gave her skin when he wanted her attention. It would be hard to wake up every morning knowing she’d never have someone warm and kind to wake up with. His scent. His eyes. His hair. His fingers. His voice.

She scribbled her thoughts and a tear fell onto the page she was pouring her thoughts into.

She didn’t want to do it. She wanted to keep him and have him to herself. Enjoy the secret, private relationship that had maybe been the best she’d ever had. But that was the part that needed to come to an end. Their secret affair would be exposed or Harry would get hurt (and so would she). He was already hurting. It was already hard and they hadn’t been at it for that long. She imagined the longer they continued the worse it would be for Harry. His soft heart would continue to break in front of her and their whole relationship would be based around the sadness and the turmoil and the secrets. It was healthy for no one.

When the pale light from the sun began to stretch into her room she put her journal down and texted Marla. It was early. Maybe a bit too early, even for Marla.

But she needed someone to talk to. Someone to help her straighten out her mind. She was feeling selfish, angry, hurt, and most of all, her heart was being squeezed with a vice in her chest and it was hard to breathe. Hard to think straight.

When you wake up will you please call me?

Her tea was barely touched. It had gone cold and because she forgot to pull the bag out it had also turned bitter. She winced at the taste and placed the mug down on her side table. That seemed to be an appropriate illustration of how her life was going at the moment. She hadn’t taken care to make sure the tea was tasty and done correctly and now it couldn’t be salvaged. A perfectly fine cup of tea to waste.

Y/n felt her phone vibrate and she plucked it up quickly to answer. It was Marla.

“Morning. Thank you for calling me.”

“Of course. Everything okay?”

Y/n sighed and closed her eyes, not wanting to begin crying again, “Not really. Went to a party with Leo last night. Learned he’s been seeing another woman my age, though the issue is that he brought her to the Hamptons last weekend and lied to me about it. Told me the girl’s mother was there with him. And it was just a weird night. So, there’s that. But then Harry called me in the middle of the night, completely wasted,” she went on with the story and what was said, barely taking a breath to pause as Marla listened closely.

“So, I need to just end it with him. Before he really gets hurt. Before I can’t let him go. Because that’s for the best. But now I’m also worried about this Parker girl. If Leo’s been seeing her frequently and taking her on vacations with him then I don’t know what that means for me either. What if I break up with Harry and then Leo wants a divorce because he’s fallen in love with Parker? I don’t care that he’s with her. But my concerns about it are mostly just selfish. I don’t know what to do. I honestly feel like the worst person in the world. I’m selfish and I’m in the middle of this strange affair. I know I need to break it off.”

Marla had listened quietly and hummed affirmatively throughout. She hadn’t realized the depth of feelings involved until then.

“I feel like it might be better if you do break up with Harry. That makes the most sense. He’s so young and you are technically married to his father so even though you can sleep with another man, you’ve picked the wrong one.”

“I know. I’ve never made such an epic mistake in all my life. It’s a mistake, what I’ve done. Isn’t it?”

“I think so. Yeah. You can’t help how you feel. I understand why you are doing it. Why you like Harry so much, but… if you can never be with him openly then that probably makes this a mistake. Will you see him today?”

“I’m going to go see him. Yes. I hate this so much. Can I come see you after? I’m gonna need someone to talk to and cry to a bit. I don’t want Leo wondering what’s wrong with me. Not that he’d care much.”

. . .

Her text to Harry went unanswered. She imagined he might still be sleeping. Hungover from the night before. Hell, she was even hungover from the night before but five glasses of wine at 27 will do that to you.

She chewed the skin at the edge of her thumb as she walked around her neighborhood in the hills. She couldn’t stay in the house with Leo looming because she would frequently begin to burst into tears out of nowhere and she couldn’t have him seeing that.

Her heart was pounding in her chest and nerves were making her skin crawl the longer she waited to hear back. She couldn’t be sure that he wasn’t just ignoring her altogether. And to drive all the way to his campus on a Saturday at noon would be an hour's drive.

But maybe that’s what she needed. Maybe a long drive and some loud music with her windows rolled down would be better than walking along the winding streets of her neighborhood and waiting for him to respond. Yes. That’s what she’d do. She’d go to him. She needed to. This needed to end. Only then could they both move on and begin to heal.

. . .

Harry did see the text come in from Y/n. Sort of. He opened up a singular eye and squinted to read the message but the words were fuzzy and his headache was killer. He couldn’t move. Lifting the phone to look at the text was a feat in and of itself and that had been all for nothing because he couldn’t even make out the words on his screen. He knew it was from Y/n but when he closed his eye he drifted off into a dreamless sleep once again. Tyler never budged from his spot on the couch.

But when there was a knock at his door and his phone was ringing right next to his head he was forced to sit upright and take in his surroundings. His head was still pounding but the nausea from the night before had mostly passed. Mostly.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy and dry and pained.

“Harry. It’s me. I’m at your door.”

It took a minute for everything to fall into place. He stood up and slowly made his way to his door and when he opened up, even though he knew Y/n said she was there, somehow it still took him by surprise.

He silently greeted her and gestured for her to enter.

His TV was on but the sound was muted. Tyler was draped over the small couch with his mouth gaped wide open in a dead sleep. A bottle of liquor, empty on the small table in front of the couch was the final clue as to what had gone on the night before.

She could tell Harry had just woken up. That at least made her feel a bit better. He wasn’t purposely ignoring her.

“I’m sorry I showed up like this,” she spoke quietly, not wanting to wake Tyler up. Especially because it would look suspicious to him to see Y/n there. Though she assumed he knew based on Harry’s comments about Tyler when he called her in the middle of the night.

She was so pretty but she looked so sad. Harry could tell, even with a killer headache and a queasy stomach that she was pensive.

“It’s okay. I’m sorry about that call last night. Got very drunk. And wound up telling him about us,” Harry looked over his shoulder at Tyler then back at you. “So… I’m sorry about that too.”

Y/n watched as Harry got himself a glass of water and chug it before waking Tyler up and asking him to go back to his room.

Tyler eventually got up and greeted Y/n politely, “Morning. Uh, sorry. I just need to run to the bathroom and then I’ll be out of here.”

It was awkward. Sitting on Harry’s bed while she watched his best friend drag himself to the bathroom. Knowing he knew about them. She wondered what Harry had told him exactly. And now she imagined he’d be calling Tyler after she left to tell him what had happened and how she’d broken his heart. Not dissimilar to what she’d be doing with Marla.

Harry stood awkwardly against the foot of his bed with his head turned to look at Y/n, “I am sorry you know. I can tell you’re upset. Is that why you’re here?”

He did feel bad. He’d been way out of line. Wildly jealous. Drunk.

“In part,” she looked up at him. His eyes were bloodshot but he was still so handsome. If she weren’t there at that moment to break up with him she’d stand up and pull him in for a kiss. She wanted to. “But I wanted to talk to you about something else too.”

Harry sighed and ran a hand through his messy curls, “Y/n,” his green eyes looked so bright and tired. The next words he spoke in a quiet whisper, “Please don’t.” She almost didn’t hear him. Almost. But she did and the moment he said it her heart dropped into her stomach. This was going to kill her.

Tyler opened the door and said goodbye quickly but Harry didn’t take his eyes off Y/n’s. He knew what she was doing. Why she’d come. He could just feel it. Tell by the way she was looking at him.

“Is that why you’re here, Y/n? To break up with me?”

Y/n patted the spot on the mattress next to her, “Come sit with me. Please.”

“Damnit!” Harry walked toward his kitchenette and leaned over the small formica countertop with his back to her, “I fucked up. I am not good at this. I’m too emotional.”

Y/n had broken up with a fair amount of guys in her life. Some were easier than others. A few times she was on the receiving end of the breakup. It was never easy.

But this one felt a lot heavier. It felt like ripping out a page from a beautifully half-drawn masterpiece before it was ready to see the light of day. Torn in half and tossed into the trash and wasted all without having had the chance to be completed and filled in with color and then framed and hung. It could have been beautiful.

She got up from the bed and walked across his room to stand behind him and wrapped her arms around his middle, smushing her cheek into his back all in silence.

Harry’s breaths were heavy and his t-shirt-covered back was warm against her skin. He brought his hands up over hers and hung his head.

“Harry,” she whispered and squeezed him tight, “I don’t want to do this but–“

“Then don’t,” Harry turned around to face her and took her hands into his, “Then don’t, Y/n.”

Shaking her head she blinked away her tears and tried to focus on her task. It had to be done. It was better for him in the end. And she only wanted what was best for him.

“This can’t go on. We’ll only get hurt. It’s already hurting.”

Shiny tears filled in Harry’s eyes and when he finally blinked they fell down his cheeks and to his chin, “Do you not-“ He shook his head and looked down for a moment as he sniffed to compose himself. Looking back into her eyes his thumbs softly caressed her thumbs, “You don’t want to be with me anymore?”

“It’s not that,” she shook her head, “It’s because I think this guilt and pain will just get worse. You’ve been so upset and unhappy. I don’t want to see you sad.”

“This is making me sad, Y/n. If you’re trying to do something to protect me, then don’t. I can handle it. I know the deal.”

She closed her eyes and lifted his hand up to her mouth to kiss his knuckles, “I know. But it’ll be easier if we do it now. The longer this goes on, the worse it’ll be. We’ll both wind up hating each other. It’ll be messier than it already is. You don’t want to be some secret forever do you?” She looked up at him.

“I would if it meant being with you. Whatever that means. Whatever it takes.”

“You don’t mean that. I don’t think you understand how awful it would be.”

“I haven’t been given the chance. I can get used to it. I’ll be better.”

Y/n dropped his hands and brought her arms up, cupping his face with her palms, “You’re so young. You’ll get over me. You’ll find someone you can be happy with openly and fall in love and have all those things you deserve.”

Harry’s mouth was slightly open as he drew in breaths of air (unable to breathe through his nose as he was crying). He put his large hands over hers and shook his head, “And what about you? Don’t you deserve love and someone who will be only yours? My dad can’t give you that. I can.”

“I agreed to the arrangement with your dad, Harry. I’m okay. I’ll be okay. My only concern is you. You are the one that deserves to have all those wonderful. Not me.”

“No. You’re wrong. You deserve it too. I want to be the one to give that to you.”

She tried to stop her sinuses from tingling and the tears from forming but she couldn’t. Her lips quivered as she tried to respond but her words were swallowed in her throat when she sucked in a sharp breath of grief.

She was helpless to her natural emotions as she felt her cheeks wet. She wanted to be strong and confident when she broke up with him so he’d see she meant it but her position crumbled with his delicate temper. He was too tender and lovely for her to keep up a cold façade.

“Please, Harry. Don’t make this harder. We can’t see each other anymore like this. I will miss you but this can’t go on.” She brought her hands down from his face, causing his hands to fall away.

“Who’s going to show you affection and give you intimacy then, Y/n? You can’t go about life without out. I can see how much you need it. You need me.” He sniffed as more tears fell.

“Harry…” she shook her head and backed away as she wiped her face.

But he grasped her wrist, not letting her get too far, “Don’t. Please, Y/n. You’re gonna break my heart.”

Y/n looked down at her wrist and back to Harry’s soulful gaze, “You’ll be okay. You’ll find someone better.”

He let go of her wrist and let out an incredulous laugh, “The fuck I will.”

He pushed himself off the small counter and walked to his window to look outside. His attitude had changed. Now he was clearly frustrated. Angry.

“You will,” she followed behind him but kept a small distance, “I promise.”

“So you’ll just be fucking whoever comes along that you like instead of me since my dad isn’t offering love to you. Is that what you wanted? Just company. No attachment? No love?”

That’s what she thought she wanted. Before she met Harry. In fact, she thought she’d be okay with just having Leo from time to time to fill in the physical parts of intimacy. The rest she could get from her friends.

But it all changed with Harry. Which is why she needed to stop it before it was too much. Before she was completely in love and had him ruined as well.

“I will be okay, Harry. I’m doing this because I want you to have everything you deserve.”

“Fuck that.” Harry turned to look at her and crossed his arms over his chest. “I can’t make you do anything you don’t want. You don’t want me? Fine. We’ll go back to how it was before. Except less friendly, I think, because I’m not sure I can handle being too friendly with you. If that’s what you want. Fine. I want you to have whatever your heart desires too, Y/n. And if that’s not me then I can’t change your mind.”

“Harry… that’s not how it is–“

“That’s exactly how it is. You’re here to break up with me. So we’ll break up. Despite how amazing we are together. We’ll just call it quits. Give up before we can really see what happens. Before we really even got going.”

“It’s because this was a mistake, Harry. This should have never happened, you and me. It’s only caused deep hurt and it will only grow worse if we continue.”

Harry nodded and looked up toward his ceiling to pull the tears back into his eyes, not wanting to let any more drop down over his cheeks, “You’re right.” He looked back at her and she could see a bit of anger rise in his demeanor, “This was a mistake.”

5. When In Greece

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tortillamastersblog · 4 months

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♕ No Matter What - Part 5 | Lena Luthor ♕

Pairing: Lena Luthor x reader

Warnings: none, just some tooth rotting fluff

Summary: Something has shifted in your relationship with Lena and as time goes on, you realize that you might think of her as more than just your boss.

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________________________________________________

It’s Saturday night and instead of watching a movie on my couch like I used to, I’m trailing behind Lena while she mingles with the people of her charity event.

This morning when I woke up she was already in the kitchen, making breakfast. It was oddly domestic, but I can’t say I minded.

We ate in silence, stealing glances at each other before our peace was disrupted by a fuming Sam.

She stormed into the apartment and yelled at me for not calling her, saying she’d been worried sick all night. Then, before I could apologize she rushed over to hug me.

Lena watched with mild amusement and, as gentle as possible, filled Sam in on what happened. That didn’t help at all though and in the end it opened a whole new can of worms with Sam scolding me for losing control and being reckless.

It got so bad that Lena had to step in at some point because I couldn’t get a word in. Sam apologized, and I did too for not calling her before we all settled down and finished eating.

After that I thanked Lena for letting me stay and rushed home to shower and change before returning to her apartment so I could accompany her to work.

Other than this morning, she hasn’t brought up last night and I’m extremely grateful. I know she would never judge me for what happened, just like Sam, but I’m not ready to share that part of me. For now, at least.

“Y/N?” A gentle touch on my forearm brings me back to reality. I look down to find Lena looking up at me with curiosity. “Everything alright?”

Her touch makes my stomach flip and I gulp, trying to mask my nervousness by saying, “Just peachy.”

Lena smiles and squeezes my arm teasingly. “Come on, be honest. You can admit you’re bored.

Bored? I’m anything but that. All night I’ve been able to watch her in her black off-shoulder dress without having to worry about looking like a creep.

I almost scoff, but realizing that that might come off as rude I say, “I promise you, Ms. Luthor, I’m not bored. This event is amazing and your speech earlier was very inspiring.”

Lena’s smile turns bashful and she ducks her head shyly. “Well, if you say so… Thank you.”

I bow playfully. “You’re welcome.”

Just then, Sam and a man whom I recognize from one of the board meetings approach us.

The man whisks Lena onto the dance floor and I turn to keep an eye on her. Sam joins my side and watches the people waltzing around before nudging me.

“Soooo, what was that?” she asks, her voice taking on a sing-song quality.

I tear my eyes away from Lena for a moment to shoot Sam a questioning look.

She raises her eyebrow expectantly and cocks her head in the direction of the dance floor. “You and Lena,” she prompts.

My ears start tingling and I square my shoulders nervously. “What about us?”

“She was touching your arm,” Sam says with a smirk. “And you didn’t pull away.”

“I—“ I snap my mouth shut because Sam’s got me cornered. She knows I hate people touching me and the fact that I let Lena do it speaks volumes. “Well, she’s my boss and I can’t just shove her off me, now can I?” I defend but I know it’s a weak excuse.

“No, not really,” Sam muses and I know she’s not buying it. When she adds, “You’d make a cute couple,” my jaw drops and I dig my elbow into her side.

“Oh my God, shut up!” I hiss through gritted teeth, looking around nervously to check if someone is listening to our conversation. Luckily no one seems to be interested though, so I quickly turn back to her. “You can’t just say something like that.”

Laughing, she takes a swig of her champagne. “Oh, relax. We’re all adults here and I know for a fact that Lena’s been single for quite some time now and the way she was looking at you—“

My eyes widen in horror and I slap a hand over Sam’s mouth. She licks my palm in retaliation and I pull back with a grimace. “Ew!”

“Oh shut up.” She chuckles and punches my shoulder. Then, her expression turns a little more serious and she says, “I mean it, Y/N. Just think about it…”

I don’t know what to say to that, so I turn my attention back to the dance floor with a sigh.

Almost all the guests are gone and I stand back patiently as Lena bids the rest of them goodbye. Sam left a while ago to relieve Alex from her babysitting duties.

Kara who was here for CatCo earlier left as well after exchanging some pleasantries and getting a few pictures of the event.

Once the last guest exits the venue, Lena returns to my side. “We can go home in just a second, I just have to get my stuff.”

I nod and let her lead the way. The venue is a beautiful French Chateau with lavish gardens and I almost got lost looking for the bathroom earlier.

Lena left her stuff in one of the vintage studies, so when we get there she gathers everything, ready to leave.

However, before we get to the door she stops and looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes. “I just remembered you didn’t dance with anyone tonight. Why is that?”

I raise my eyebrows in surprise and smile. “It’s not exactly in my job description, Ms. Luthor.“

Lena counters playfully. “Or you just don’t know how to do it and wanted to avoid making a fool of yourself.”

I scoff and cross my arms, letting my eyes show my amusement. “I can dance just fine, thank you very much.”

Lena drops her things on the plush sofa and holds out her hand with a challenging raise of her eyebrow. “Prove it.”

I huff and can’t help the way my stomach flips at the prospect of dancing with her. I eye her for a moment, debating my next move.

Just think about it…

Sam’s voice rings in my ears and I decide now is the perfect opportunity to test my ever growing feelings for the young CEO.

I take Lena’s hand and lead her onto the balcony to escape the musty air of the study. She’s surprised by the change in location, but doesn’t comment on it as we both admire the view of the garden for a moment.

The big fountain in the middle of the lawn is lit up in the dark, making the water sparkle as it rains down in tiny droplets.

There are also some lit lanterns along the gravel paths, but otherwise everything is dark. It’s as though the person who designed this place didn’t want to distract from the starry night sky above us.

Out here, away from the city, there’s no light pollution that prevents you from seeing each constellation clearly, and the sight is so mesmerizing, that I momentarily forget why I stepped outside in the first place.

That is until Lena clears her throat softly, effectively snapping me out of my haze. “Sorry.“

She smiles and tilts her head adorably, her eyes not leaving my face. I instantly get nervous under her gaze and try to mask it by stepping closer and saying, “May I have this dance, M’lady?”

I preform an exaggerated bow which makes her giggle. She accepts the invitation with a grin and I raise her hand to place a theatrical kiss to her knuckles.

Before I can get into position though, her hands travel up my arms and slide beneath the fabric of my jacket. She pushes it off my shoulders and I understand what she wants, so I take it off, albeit a little confused.

I’m about to ask why that was necessary when her fingers make quick work of the buckle on my leather shoulder holster that holds my service weapon.

“Now you’re officially off duty,” she says, draping my jacket and holster over the balcony’s stone railing before returning into my space.

She pulls me infinitely closer and guides my one hand around her waist, taking my other into her own. Her perfume clouds my senses and the warmth of her body so close to mine is making me swoon on the inside.

“I’m never really off duty,” I manage to get out without stuttering. “If you ever need me, I’ll be there.”

It could just be the low light, but I’m almost certain Lena’s pupils dilate ever so slightly. It’s a sight that makes me want to rush forward and kiss her, but in the end I don’t do it.

She’s still your boss! I remind myself and that wipes the idea from my mind entirely. Kissing her out of nowhere would be a sure way to get myself fired. That being said, should there ever be something between us she has to be the one to initiate it.

Lena doesn’t say anything. Her green eyes just bore into mine, so I smile shyly and ask, “Ready?”

She nods almost imperceptibly and I start moving, guiding her around the spacious balcony in a slow waltz. It’s been a long time since I danced like this, but it’s all coming back to me like riding a bike.

There’s no music playing, but it doesn’t matter. We’re in our own world, only focusing on each other while our bodies move effortlessly together.

“Well, it’s seems like you weren’t lying after all,” Lena whispers, her breath hitting my face.

“Huh?” I slow us down so we’re only swaying in place.

Lena’s lip twitches and the hand she has on my shoulder moves toward the back of my neck. “You can dance.”

I briefly close my eyes at the touch and tighten my grip on her waist. “I told you.”

“Mhmm,” Lena hums and we continue to sway in silence. A chilly autumn breeze dances around us and because it borders on cold, she draws closer.

Unlike earlier though, it doesn’t make me nervous. It’s calming and I feel my shoulders relax as Lena’s head settles on my shoulder.

I’ve never danced like this with anyone and for the first time in my life I regret not having had a serious relationship before. I’ve had a couple flings here and there, yes, but, like I said, it was never serious. But even those stopped happening when Noah died.

Now that I’m actually this close to someone, I realize how touch starved I’ve been. And no, Sam’s hugs and cuddles don’t count. I’m talking about romantic affection.

Another breeze whips past us and this time not even our proximity is enough to keep Lena from shivering. “It’s getting cold,” I say reluctantly. “And late…”

Lena sighs against my shoulder. “You’re right. Let’s go home.”

We stop swaying and separate slowly. The cold that replaces Lena’s warmth instantly makes me yearn for her again. But it is getting late and we both have to get up early tomorrow morning.

“Thank you for the dance,” Lena says, her hands lingering on my forearms.

I bow again, this time less playfully though. “My pleasure,” I say and seeing the goosebumps on Lena’s arms and chest, I take my jacket and drape it around her shoulders.

She smiles bashfully and mumbles another thank you which makes me feel very accomplished.

I grab my holster without bothering to put it back on and lead us inside where I grab Lena’s things. She protest weakly, saying she can carry it herself, but then a yawn overcomes her and we both chuckle.

We head outside and I help her into the passenger seat of the car the valet has already parked right by the entrance.

I tip him generously and bid him a good night before getting in the driver’s seat. Usually I’m not the one driving, but because it’s Alfred’s night off, I offered to do it.

The drive back into the city is peaceful and quiet. Lena’s leaned against the door the whole way with her eyes closed and my jacket pulled tightly around her shoulders.

She doesn’t even stir when I pull into her building’s underground parking garage.

“Ms. Luthor?” I whisper, touching her shoulder. “Ms. Luthor, we’re here.”

Nothing.

“Ms. Luthor.”

Again. Nothing.

Damn, she’s out cold.

I sigh and get out of the car, making my way around the hood to slowly open the passenger door. I make sure Lena doesn’t fall by quickly replacing the door with my body and bending over her lap to unbuckle her seat belt.

“Alright… Upsy-daisy. One, two, three.” I scoop her into my arms as gracefully as I can and make sure her head is resting comfortably on my chest.

Then I kick the car door shut and make my way to the elevator that takes us straight up to the apartment.

I get the door open with some difficulty and take off my shoes all while Lena continues to sleep away in my arms.

It’s an endearing sight and it just makes me realize even more how deep my feelings for her actually run.

I pad through the dark apartment and into her bedroom where I carefully place her on the bed. She stirs for a moment, but doesn’t wake up, so I take off her heels before adjusting her so I can pull the comforter over her.

“Good night,” I whisper and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Then, without thinking I bend down and press a kiss to the crown of her head.

Oh, if only you knew what you do to me, Lena Luthor, I think as I back out of the room with a tired smile.

________________________________________________

Some much needed fluff after that last part :)

@nuianced-tck-enby Enjoy!

#x reader #fluff #dc universe #dcu #lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #cw supergirl

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lucysarah-c · 1 month

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Levi's horrible flirting skills part 9! Spoiler 👀👀

Who wants a spoiler? I do...

Indecipherable groans echoed through the room, merging with the sound of the alarm. Reluctantly sitting up, still in uniform, the bed covers crumpled under the weight as the person rose.

Perhaps it was easier to abandon it after only an hour or two of sleep before having to get up again. A long night and a long day ahead. From the window, the light was already sneaking in subtly as the sun began to rise earlier. Pushing the door open, the bustling place was a harsh welcome so early.

“Morning…” The greeting was said without much emotion.

“Morning, Y/N!” one of the girls replied as she prepared breakfast in the small kitchen while another girl, a redhead, sat at the round dining table, which also served as a living room.

Each of them was getting ready for the day ahead. Y/N easily began to prepare herself something to eat, trying not to disturb the girl who was already using the kitchen, while the redhead curled her eyelashes while sipping tea. With a loud sigh, Y/N took a seat and had a simple toast.

“How was yesterday?” the redhead asked.

“Good… all the babies were healthy.”

“I was talking about the date.”

“Yeah, how did that go?” The other girl, with light brown hair and golden eyes, sat down too.

Y/N simply shrugged, putting on face cream as she passed down the tea. “Good, I guess…” she replied, almost disinterested, but as she slowly woke up, she got a cheeky grin. “He’s taking me to the official party.”

The other two girls gasped excitedly as if they were the ones invited. “But that’s Saturday, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Better! You promised me we’d go to Edward’s party on Friday,” the brunette added.

“Don’t forget girls’ night on Wednesday,” the redhead chimed in. “And we promised Charlie to help her choose something for the hospital event next week on Tuesday.”

“I know, I know,” Y/N replied calmly. “I’m aware.”

“Ugh, but I thought we were all going to the downtown party together. There will be happy hour for all the drinks!” The brunette pouted slightly. “But I guess you and your all-mighty new guy have better plans than us.”

Y/N chuckled, biting her lower lip as the other two girls joked with each other. “So? That’s all?”

Y/N grimaced uneasily, softly humming, almost disinterested. “He was very… nice and cute, well-behaved.”

“Are you describing humanity’s strongest or a dog?”

It made her snort with laughter. “Minnie!” she exclaimed, covering her mouth as she laughed.

“He’s not that talkative,” she tried to justify. “Or… perhaps he’s shy, stoic…” she clicked her tongue. “I don’t know.”

There was a soft hum of uncertainty filling the silence, but it was overpowered by one of the cats demanding food. “Going, going,” one of the girls said as she got up and rushed to the cat's demands.

“I just… hope that maybe around his friends, he’ll get a bit more confident,” Y/N said, raising her hands in the air as if pushing her last hope onto the idea.

“Maybe,” the brunette tried to support the idea, resting her head on her hand. “You said he’s nice…”

“He is! He’s very nice…” she said, as if it were a consolation prize, letting the words drag out as if the idea didn’t fully satisfy her. “It’s just that I like my man with a bit more spice… a bit less vanilla.”

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clarisse0o · 1 month

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Camp Wiegman-Part 49

Lucy Bronze x Ona Batlle

Alternative Universe : Military School

Words : 5k

Masterlist

———————————————————————-

Monday, February 8th; 11:45 AM - In class.

Returning to reality is hard. I'm bored to death with these classes. If Lucy saw me, she'd probably lecture me for slouching over my desk trying to follow this pointless lesson. I wish we could have extended our weekend. It was so much more enjoyable, even with the little incident Feli caused on Saturday night. I keep thinking about it. Lucy was so sweet to me from beginning to end. I was so worried, but now I regret that the weekend was too short. Plus, seeing my brother again was such a joy. It broke my heart when it was time to leave. He didn’t want to let us go, and he even cried. I felt sorry for Hector, who had to stay with him. Luckily, the holidays are coming soon. We have just one more week. I’m eagerly looking forward to it, so much so that I feel like these next few days are going to drag on. It’s well known that excitement tends to slow down time. If all goes well, I'll spend those two weeks with Lucy. The first week is certain, since we'll be going to the Alps with her friends. She told me she'd handle the planning with Ingrid during the day.

- "You seem lost in thought," Alessia murmurs. "Is everything okay?"

- "Yeah," I say, sitting up and giving her a shy smile.

I’ve never felt so good. Of course, I still have problems, but the biggest ones are now resolved. My smile fades for a moment as I recall the events of last week. With everything that happened, I haven't had the chance to speak to my friends since the cafeteria incident. I did check in with Alexia via text, but that was it. I got bombarded with questions this morning. If I had at least had one meal with them, I could have avoided this situation. But I don’t regret eating with Lucy. I was still too shaken to be around other students. Coming back to school this morning reminded me why I wasn't ready for that. The students made me the center of attention. I hated it. My friends told me that a bunch of rumors had spread after the fight. The first was about Korbin getting expelled, but for me, it was a different story. The students thought I was in the hospital, considering the beating I took. The scene in the cafeteria must have been something for them to think that. After hearing all this, I’m not surprised everyone is staring at me. Sure, I still have a few marks, but everything’s healing pretty well, thanks to Lucy’s weekly care.

- "I wanted to apologize," I said.

- "For what?"

- "For being radio silent until today. I shouldn't have worried you. To be honest, I didn't expect you to be so concerned."

- "You're our friend; it's normal to worry."

- "Yeah, but you know, except for Mapi, I was never close to many people. But now that I have you guys, it’s… I don’t know. I’m glad to have you."

- "We’re glad to have you too," she smiles. "Just don’t leave us without news next time. We saw you Thursday morning, so we knew you were okay, but we still wondered why you were absent the next day."

- "I promise, next time I'll let you know."

I return her smile. I've grown closer to them, so I can’t shy away now. I’m relieved when the bell rings right after our conversation. I hope the rest of the week doesn’t pass as slowly as this half-day. I’ll die of boredom otherwise. My only motivation is that I’ll see Lucy every evening since we’ll be sharing her room again this week. She told me she’d be busy these next five days, so I’ll have to make do with our evening classes and nights together. I hope I can manage. She’s been my support these past few days, and I already feel lost without her by my side. In the meantime, I content myself with my friends. Specifically, Alessia. She’s telling me all about what I missed last week, and her stories are pretty funny. I stop laughing, though, when we run into Lucy walking in the opposite direction just as we’re about to leave the building. I step aside to avoid getting in anyone’s way.

- "Hey," I say with a smile, happy to see her.

My smile fades when I realize she’s not looking at me. Her attention is focused on Alessia beside me, and she’s giving her a dirty look before finally turning to me.

- "Hi," she finally responds. "You know we already saw each other this morning, right?" she jokes.

- "Uh, yeah," I say awkwardly, making her smile.

- "I don’t have much time to chat, but we’ll meet after class. I’ll be done with what I have to do by then, so we can work on your assignments."

- "Really? I don’t want to waste your time. If you’re too busy, Alessia can help me."

- "No. I insisted on helping you with your studies, so I’m not going to abandon you," she replies.

I suppress my smile at the tone of her voice. Oh, so she has an issue with Alessia... I didn’t see that coming.

- "Alright. I’ll be there," I simply reply.

- "You better be. You can’t back out now."

- "I wasn’t planning to," I tease.

- "Good," she smiles. "See you later in the classroom."

- "Aren’t you going to eat?"

- "I just finished. I wanted to avoid the crowd and save time."

- "Oh," I say, struggling to hide my disappointment.

She smiles at me, as if she understands how I feel. I wish she could have been there with me. Just seeing her in front of me would have given me courage. She ruffles my hair affectionately before slowly walking away.

- "See you in a few hours," I whisper.

- "See you in a few hours," she repeats.

I sigh as I watch her walk away. I wish I could follow her. I turn back to Alessia, who raises an eyebrow with a small smile.

- "Study session, huh? I guess things are better between you two if you're willing to ditch me."

- "Oh... Uh, yeah. I should’ve told you," I grimace as we head outside to join the others.

They were waiting for us at the exit. We follow them to the cafeteria as they start walking when they see us.

- "I’m really sorry, but because of my terrible grades, Bronze wanted to take charge again."

- "So, things are better between you?"

- "I... Yeah, you could say that."

- "You could say that?" she giggles. "You seemed pretty happy to see her just now," she smiles.

- "You’re exaggerating... It’s just that I didn’t expect to see her. She told me she’d be very busy today."

- "Who, besides you, tries to run into their supervisor?" she teases.

- "Alright... You’re right. Probably no one," I giggle. "I can’t help it if I enjoy spending time with her. She... I don’t know. I need her, that’s all. With what happened last week, she once again proved that to me."

- "Uh-huh..." she smiles.

- "What?"

- "Nothing," she says with a smirk.

- "Oh, come on. I know you well enough by now to know you’re thinking something."

- "No, I’m not saying anything," she says, raising her hands. "You might take it the wrong way again, and I don’t want to risk it."

- "Of course not," I protest.

- "I’m sure you would," she laughs. "Please drop it. I really don’t want you to get upset again."

- "Fine," I sigh.

I don’t insist, knowing that if she doesn’t want to talk about it, she must have a good reason. I don’t want to create any tension between us when we’ve been getting along so well these past few days. I step into the cafeteria hall as she holds the door for me. I barely take a few steps before Alexia half-jumps on me, putting her arm around my shoulders. I wince, holding back a cry of pain to avoid worrying her. Though my injuries are healing, they are far from fully recovered.

- "Classes are so depressing," she groans. "I’m so glad we’re on break!"

- "I totally agree."

- "You guys can’t complain. We only have one week left," Alessia comments.

- "Yeah, Especially the first week. Oh my God, I can’t wait!"

- "I can’t agree more," I say with a knowing smile.

- "What do you mean...?" Ale asks, slowing down. "Wait, don’t tell me—"

She stops completely, making me chuckle. I hadn’t told her the good news yet. This vacation is going to be amazing. I’ll be surrounded by all the people I’m closest to: Lucy, Mapi, and Alexia. Gradually, a smile spreads across Alexia’s face as if she’s just figured it out.

- "No, but wait... Really?"

I shrug, smiling even more. I reply with a wink before continuing with Alessia toward the buffet, who no longer tries to understand our half-spoken conversation. Thankfully. She’s a good analyst, and I don’t want her starting to ask questions.

- "Ona Batlle! What don’t I know about!?"

- "Oh, a lot of things," I giggle. "Let’s talk about it tonight, okay?"

"You have no idea how much I hate you right now for leaving me in suspense!"

I laugh, not saying anything more. I get the feeling Alessia is already asking herself questions, so I don’t want to add fuel to the fire by feeding her curiosity. We finally change the subject as we return to our table.

Monday, February 8; 5:45 PM - Lucy and Ingrid’s Office.

For the fifth time, I try to slide my hand onto Lucy’s thigh, but she stops me again, this time with a grumble. I pout as she furrows her brows once more.

- "You need to stop that."

- "I need to touch you," I groan.

She smiles softly, tilting her head. Coming from me, that might be confusing. I’ve never felt such a primal need before. Lucy has always been the one to offer me affection, and it’s frustrating that she’s denying it now.

- "Since when, huh?"

I shrug, blushing slightly. I missed her today. It was the first day we’ve been apart in four days.

- "Just wait a few more minutes until the building empties. In the meantime, focus. You’re far from done with your exercise."

I slump, resting my head on my hand and letting out a long groan. I’m getting tired of these management exercises. It’s been nearly an hour, and I’m almost back to square one.

- "Um, hello."

I lift my head to see a new presence in the room. Ingrid isn’t here tonight, so I wanted to take the opportunity to get Lucy’s attention, but now I understand why she didn’t want that. We could still be caught at any moment, like now. I squint as I recognize my management teacher, Mr. Tompson.

- "Hello, Mr. Tompson. How can I help you?" Lucy takes the initiative to ask.

- "I didn’t expect you to have company, actually."

- "Oh, Ona isn’t a problem. I help her with her homework every evening, so I doubt there will be other times to discuss privately. I’ll make sure she stays quiet if it’s an important matter."

- "Actually, it concerns her class."

He glances at me with a gentle smile. I don’t return his smile at all. He caught my attention as soon as he arrived. Lucy sort of confirmed for me that he’s interested in her. That makes me even more eager to defend my territory, but of course, I can’t. As if Lucy sensed that I was seething beside her, she gently squeezes my knee.

- "Well?"

I loosen my grip on my pen and look back down at my paper. Maybe my inattention will encourage my teacher to talk, and that’s exactly what happens. He must have realized that I wasn’t going to leave. There’s no way I’m letting him be alone with Lucy.

- "I was thinking of organizing an outing for their class. It would involve seeing how a company operates. I’m just waiting for responses from the companies I’ve selected."

- "Okay…" Lucy responds uncertainly. "And how does that involve me?"

- "I’m looking for chaperones… Three, to be exact."

- "I see."

- "I was hoping you’d be willing to do it," he adds hesitantly after Lucy’s response.

- "Well, why not, but it’s not my decision to make. You’d better discuss this with the principal."

- "Oh yes, of course! That was my intention," he says quickly. "I just wanted to know if you were agreeable before approaching her."

- "Do you already have the other chaperones?"

- "Another teacher who helped organize the outing will be there. I’m still missing the third person."

- "I can ask Engen. I suppose she’d be interested in coming with us. Of course, it will need Wiegman’s approval first."

- "That’s a good idea. I’ll handle that. Anyway, it’s not happening for a few weeks."

- "Alright, then we’ll discuss it again when the time comes."

- "Bronze…?" I murmur. "I’m stuck here."

A smile spreads across her lips as she presses her hand on my knee a little more. She seems to understand my plea for attention.

- "Excuse me, did I interrupt you?" my teacher asks.

- "No problem," Lucy replies.

- "Well then… I’ll leave you to it. Have a good evening."

- "Thank you, you too."

I watch him leave the room with a nasty look. Fortunately for me, he didn’t notice as he had his back turned. He closes the door halfway at Lucy’s request. I sigh with relief at his departure. He was making the atmosphere heavy. Lucy smiles at me almost mockingly.

- "What?"

- "Oh, nothing."

- "Hmm…"

- "So, what’s your problem?"

- "Oh, I didn’t have one. I just wanted him to leave."

She smiles again and goes back to her work. I groan, resting my head on my palm again.

- "Still, I hadn’t realized how insufferable that guy is."

Lucy lets out a laugh she’s probably been holding in for a while, given its intensity.

- "Hey, don’t make fun of me! It’s the truth."

- "I thought you liked him?"

- "Yeah, well, I’ve changed my mind. I like him less now that I know he’s hovering around you."

- "He’s not hovering around me," she rolls her eyes.

- "He likes you and ogles you; it’s all the same to me. Plus, I would’ve preferred to avoid confronting him today, given how much I missed you," I tease her.

She smiles in amusement and surprises me by leaning in to kiss me. I close my eyes, fully enjoying this contact, which I realize has become a necessity for me right now. However, it doesn’t last. I open my eyes to beg for more, which prompts her to respond verbally.

- "I hope you fully enjoyed that little taste to satisfy your needs because that’s going to be my only affectionate gesture in this office tonight. Now get back to work. I want that exercise finished before dinner."

A plaintive whine escapes me. I should’ve expected it, but it’s so frustrating. Knowing that she really means it, I abandon the idea of getting more and change the subject.

- "I can’t do it," I replied.

I’m not sure if I’m talking about the exercise or the affection she’s withholding. She seems to assume it’s the former, judging by her response.

- "I’ve explained it to you three different ways. You can’t tell me you can’t do it. This is clearly a lack of effort on your part, and if you think I’m going to do the exercise for you, you’ve got another thing coming."

I sigh, knowing full well that she’s right about this. In truth, I already understood it the second time she explained it, but I just don’t have the motivation to do it. I still pout, not entirely happy with her attitude. However, I don’t complain to avoid getting scolded for real. If I’ve learned anything, it’s that Lucy won’t act any differently than a supervisor during work hours. With little enthusiasm, I finally dive into my exercise.

Monday, February 8; 8:15 PM - Ona and Alexia’s Room.

- "No way, this can’t be true…" says Alexia, completely shocked. "Why do you always hide so much from me! So, you and Bronze…"

She doesn’t finish her sentence, as if she still can’t believe it enough to say it out loud. I giggle and nod. I just told her we’re a couple. I thought she would’ve guessed when I said everything was settled, but it seems she hadn’t thought that far. She falls back onto the bed across from me. It looks like she’s going to need some time to process this.

- "But like, really?"

- "Yes, Ale," I laugh. "We’re together."

- "B-but, but… How?! We’re talking about Bronze here!"

- "Call her Lucy with me, please," I roll my eyes with a little amused smile.

- "Oh no, no, no. I definitely can’t do that. We’re talking about Bronze!"

I laugh heartily before we look each other in the eye. I wait for her to digest the news. She opens her mouth to speak but then closes it again. She seems to be thinking about what to say before finally speaking.

- "How? I mean, Bronze hates me because I broke the rules by dating Jenni, and she got fired because of me. So how did you get her to break the same rule herself? It’s so unexpected. I mean, of course, I encouraged you, and I hated her for hurting you so much, but… I don’t know. I just never expected her to offer you an intimate relationship, seriously!"

- "Stop it, Lucy doesn’t hate you."

- "Oh yes, yes, yes! She hates me! She made that clear from the start! She’s only become nicer to me since you two started hooking up! And that’s only because we’re friends! Did you say something to her? Oh my God, you must have said something! Otherwise, she wouldn’t be acting so nice to me!"

I chuckle in amusement. The way she’s getting worked up is hilarious. Now she’s standing up, panicking, saying things I can’t even understand anymore because I’m laughing so much.

- "Ale, calm down. I didn’t say anything to her. If she’s doing it for me, I don’t know about it. I can find out If you want.

- Definitely not! Besides… why are you here with me? Don’t you want to go find her?

- Well, you see, I have a friend who pressured me a little to stop by here before heading back to my room. I should hate you for delaying the moment I’ve been waiting for all day, but you’re lucky I like you, I teased.

- Aww, you’re too cute! But go on. I don’t want to keep you. I’ll just try to process this news now that I know.

- No, I think I’ll stay here for a bit. Actually, I need to make Lucy wait. She left me frustrated while I was doing my homework.

Alexia sits back down on her bed, nodding.

- It’s understandable that she’d want to keep things discreet. Her best friend lost her job because of me for the same reason. I doubt she wants to get fired for it too.

- I know… I sighed. I don’t blame her; I get it. Honestly, I just didn’t expect to want to be so touchy-feely with her. I mean, just last week, I could barely stand being touched. Now I’m practically begging her to touch me, even if it’s just once.

- I’ve been saying from the start that you were hooked on her, she teased. But still, I can’t get over it. You two, together? I mean, especially Bronze in a relationship—it’s unimaginable.

- Oh, stop. It’s just because she only shows you the mask she wants you to see. She’s really sweet deep down. I even think she’s hiding her true self, I said with a roll of my eyes.

- What do you mean by that?

- I’m not saying anything. You might never see her the same way again, and I doubt Lucy would appreciate it, I replied with a small, sly smile. I think she likes to keep you on your toes, I chuckled.

- Yeah, well, it’s really not funny, she pouted.

- You know, I can always talk to her if this bothers you that much.

- No, absolutely not! I want to prove to her that I’m a good match for Jenni. I feel like she still doesn’t think so.

- If she doesn’t yet, she will. And I promise I won’t do anything to make that happen.

We exchanged a knowing smile just as there was a knock on the door. A rather timid Lucy entered our room. I raised an eyebrow, not expecting her to show up. I’d seen her after dinner and told her I wouldn’t come by right away.

- Hey, I said. What brings you here?

- I was wondering what was taking you so long.

I raised an eyebrow, noticing it was only twenty past eight. I usually didn’t head back to my room until nine when I stopped by here first.

- Hmm… We were just talking, but I can come back with you if that’s what you want.

- Oh no, it’s just that… she started before cutting herself off. Never mind.

Lucy shifted her gaze from me to my roommate. She raised an eyebrow, making me look at Alexia in turn. Alexia’s cheeks were clearly flushed with embarrassment, probably from staring at her. Lucy sighed, running a hand through her hair.

- She knows, I guess?

- Of course. Don’t think I was going to keep it from her.

- I didn’t say anything, she smiled softly. Well… are you done, or should I leave without you?

- I think we’re done…

- Yeah, sure, Alexia confirmed.

- So, see you tomorrow morning? I asked.

- Yeah, she smiled, getting up to hug me. See you tomorrow morning.

- Good night, I said, before joining Lucy, who had been waiting by the door since the beginning.

Lucy wished her a good night as well before letting me go ahead to leave. We walked through the buildings, taking her shortcut to make the trip quicker.

- You thought I wasn’t coming back? I teased. I usually get back to your room later than this.

- No. Let’s just say I didn’t expect you to take so long. You told me you’d only be fifteen minutes.

- Hmm… And what would have happened if I’d stayed longer, huh?

- It would have meant that I couldn’t enjoy you the way I wanted, she murmured as she opened her bedroom door.

- Well, I started, immediately searching for my things in my suitcase. You didn’t want me to enjoy you in your office either, I replied in a slightly reproachful tone.

- You’re not really mad about that, are you? she teased.

- You don’t know me very well if you think otherwise, I replied with a wink.

She tried to steal a kiss as we moved, but I ignored her and slammed the bathroom door in her face. I heard her groan behind it, which made me stifle a laugh. I expected her to give up—at least, that’s what I would’ve done in her place—but instead, she came into the bathroom just as I was taking off my shirt.

- Luce, get out of here.

- No, she said, blocking me against the sink.

- What’s gotten into you? I sighed, slightly unsettled by her sudden change in behavior.

- You should know that I don't reject you in my office for fun, she replied. I told you that I'd remain your supervisor at school and your girlfriend in private. I thought you understood that. Let's not start taking jabs at each other over this.

Her response made me realize she took my words seriously. Sure, I was a little upset with her for making me wait with just one kiss, but I was mostly joking.

- Sorry, I... It’s just that... Today was hard. I really missed you. I didn’t expect it to be this much. Plus, it was tough dealing with all those rumors and students without you by my side.

Lucy sighed as she pulled me into her arms. I relaxed into her embrace, enjoying the long-awaited hug. She kissed my forehead.

- It was only the first day... You'll have to hold on for three more months because I’m not planning to change my stance on professionalism. Don’t forget that I’m working here.

- I know, I mumbled.

- We’ll have all the time in the world to be together in the evenings, OK?

- Yeah, and after the holidays, huh? I won’t be here in the evenings, remember?

- Well, we’ll have the weekends, she arched an eyebrow. You're not going to get all depressed on me, are you? I didn’t think you were this needy for affection, she teased.

- Well, you’re the one who made me like this.

She laughed and stole a quick kiss from me.

- Now, go take a quick shower and come join me. You’re not the only one who’s been waiting for this moment all day. I just hide it better than you.

I smiled as I watched her leave. She really does hide it better than I do because I hadn’t noticed. I hurried to wash up and get ready for bed before joining her. She was already waiting in bed with the next Harry Potter movie queued up on her laptop. I quickly joined her, snuggling into her arms. She held me tight and kissed me passionately, showing me just how much she had missed me too.

- So, how was your day otherwise? she asked as she started the movie.

- Long and boring, I sighed. It’s really unbearable. I’m just glad Alessia and the others were there to distract me.

- Alessia, huh?

- What? I asked, smiling slightly, already knowing where this conversation was going.

- You two have gotten close pretty quickly. Is she still into you?

I smiled mischievously. I vaguely mentioned this to her because of what happened on New Year’s Eve. I seriously need to stop talking to her about these things.

- I don’t think so. At least, she knows I’m interested in someone else.

- Really?

- Yeah… But she’s starting to have questions about us, so if you ask me, you might want to save those looks for someone else next time.

I bit my lip and looked up. The scene from this morning was unforgettable. I saw her give Alessia a disapproving look, and I doubt it was accidental. I caught her rolling her eyes before she turned them back to me.

- Why? She’s asking questions?

- I think she suspects that you’re the one I’m interested in. So yeah, I guess she’s asking questions. This morning, she didn’t want to continue a conversation about it, fearing I’d get upset…

- I see, she murmured. I’ll try to control myself. You try to do the same with your management professor, she teased.

- At least I didn’t stare him down!

- Maybe not, but you weren’t exactly pleasant either, she giggled.

- That’s not true.

- Yes, it is, she laughed. It was cute.

I blushed, sinking deeper into her. I turned my attention to the movie that had been playing. Lucy kissed my head, making me smile. It’s funny how easily we express our feelings now when we hid them for weeks before.

- So… I can’t talk to Alessia about us, right? I broke the silence, making Lucy sigh.

- Why do you ask? Do you want to tell her?

- No, but I’m afraid she’ll find out…

- If you ask me, from what you’ve told me, she already suspects. It’s up to us to prove her wrong, which is why we need to stay professional here, especially during work hours.

- You’re right, I murmured.

- I’d love for you to be able to talk to her, but the fewer people who know, the less chance we have of compromising my end of the year. I’d rather we don’t talk about it, no matter how much you trust Alessia or anyone else.

I nodded. It’s definitely too risky. It might be our last year, but I’m not going to risk anything happening in the short time we have left here.

- I won’t say anything.

- So… Do you really like her since you’ve gotten close to her?

I swallowed a smile. She’s really cute when she’s playing jealous.

- She was a good support while you were away… I misjudged her, to be honest.

- You know, if you asked me a question like that, I would have reassured you…

I frowned, worried that I might be misunderstanding the tone of her voice. I looked up to see her smiling softly at me.

- Yes, I’m jealous of her, baby. Unlike me, you could have been open with her in front of your friends.

- I was open with you in Barcelona and even in front of my mom. That was the first time that ever happened. Well, I did it with Mapi in front of our friends, but definitely not as quickly.

- Really…? she murmured.

- Yes.

I propped myself up on my elbows to get a better look at her. She suddenly seemed deep in thought. Her hand gently caressed my back.

- What’s on your mind? I whispered.

- I don’t want to rush you into things too quickly. You know that, right?

- Of course. I wouldn’t do anything I didn’t want to do. Honestly… I expected this weekend to be a disaster because of my fears, but I ended up loving it… You made me feel comfortable, as you always do. Everything feels so natural between us, and that’s exactly what I need.

She smiled softly before kissing me.

- I’m glad to hear you say that. Don’t hesitate to tell me if anything bothers you, okay?

- Nothing bothers me… But I’ll tell you if something does, I promise. Can we finally watch the movie now?

- Of course, she giggled. Sorry. Come here.

She lifted her arm, and I didn’t hesitate to snuggle as close to her as possible. I love when she holds me in her arms. I used to be afraid of starting a new relationship because I didn’t like physical contact anymore, but now I crave the opposite with Lucy. I buried my head in her neck, thinking about this. I can’t imagine being without her anymore. We’ll need to balance our time during the day and our private moments. I have no doubt she’ll help me with that, even though it will be challenging for both of us, from what I can tell. Lucy is clearly better at hiding it than I am. I hope I can do the same in the coming days, and then the holidays will finally be ours.

#woso #lucy bronze #woso community #ona batlle #barca femeni #woso soccer #lionesses #sefutbol fem #ona batlle x lucy bronze

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daisynik7 · 10 months

Text

Tall Idol Takada-Chan's Birthday

Pairing: Aoi Todo x f!reader

Rating: Mature

Word Count: ~4.0k

cw: reader is mentioned having long-ish hair (enough to put into braids), reader has curves, Todo being slightly pervy, explicit language, sexually suggestive dialogue, mentions of food

Summary: You and Sara attend a Takada-Chan birthday celebration at a local café, where you run into two unsuspecting acquaintances.

Author’s Notes: Here’s chapter four, enjoy! Thanks for the support on this so far, I really appreciate it. Divider credit to @/saradika.

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Todo hangs the signed Takada-Chan poster on the wall right next to his bed. He wants it to be the first thing he sees when he wakes up. There are, of course, many other Takada posters already displayed around his studio apartment, but this one is different. This one is special. It has his name and his future wife’s name on it.

“I still can’t believe you got to meet Takada-Chan today. That’s wild,” Yuji comments, biting into a slice of pizza. Tonight, the brothers are watching a collection of action movies and stuffing their faces with junk food.

Todo sits on the opposite side of the couch, staring up at the ceiling with a small grin on his face. “I knew this day would come. My patience all these years is finally paying off! I’m this much closer to being Mr. Aoi Takada.”

Yuji snorts. “Dude, you’re going to take her name? Really?”

“We don’t abide by conformist laws in this household. I will proudly take Takada-Chan’s name,” Todo declares, dramatically clutching his chest over his heart.

With his mouth full, Yuji muffles, “Isn’t it weird that you had to lie to get her attention though? I mean, she thinks you and that other fan are a couple.”

“It’s not weird. It’s strategic.”

His brother shrugs. “I guess. It’s pretty cool of that girl to go along with it. She must really be a huge fan if she’s willing to put up with you, even if it is just pretend. She even let you keep the poster.”

He still can’t wrap his head around what happened earlier in the day. He was already exhausted after the mission, but when he saw that long line, it put him in a worse mood. Who knew that his rival would be the one to come to his rescue? Well, her and Takada-Chan, of course. When he saw them standing in front of him together, he couldn’t help feeling elated. And after today’s experience, he starts to think that maybe him and his rival can start being cordial with each other. She is the mastermind behind this whole scheme. And she did give him the poster. The least he can do is be less of an asshole to her, right?

~~~

July 16th is a Saturday, though most importantly, it is Takada-Chan’s birthday. You find out your favorite café, Club Coffee, is hosting a Takada-Chan birthday celebration. They’ll have different types of treats and drinks that are Takada themed, as well as life-sized cardboard cut outs of the pop idol for photos.

When Saturday arrives, you and Sara get ready for the café event. Inspired by her outfit from the Meet and Greet, you decide to dress up for the occasion in an off-the-shoulder black blouse and plaid mini skirt. You accessorize with a red choker and black combat boots. Only Takada-Chan could pull off platform heels, so you don’t bother. Also, knowing yourself, you would definitely eat shit walking around in those. Not wanting to copy Takada’s look completely, you style your hair into two braids instead of pigtails. You twirl around for Sara, asking her, “What do you think?”

“Like you’re totally ready to seduce a teacher,” she teases.

“I wasn’t trying to go for a schoolgirl look!” you protest, self-conscious.

Sara grabs your shoulders and faces you towards the mirror. “No, it’s cute. Very cute, I promise you. Now let’s go before it gets too crowded.” You can always count on Sara to give you that confidence boost you need.

The two of you make your way to Club Coffee. There’s a huge banner over the storefront reading, “Happy Birthday Tall Idol Takada-Chan!” A life-sized cardboard cutout of the pop idol doing her signature pose is placed near the store window. Fans gather around the front, taking pictures with it. It’s not nearly as crowded as the previous events you’ve attended because multiple cafes and shops around the area are hosting their own celebrations. As soon as you walk inside, you hear the distinct beat of one of the pop idol’s songs blasting through the speakers, giving the establishment a night club vibe, which you love.

As you stand in line to order, you and Sara peruse the menu, both of you shimmying to the music as you decide what you want. There are a variety of dishes, savory and sweet, that are special for today. You order the Caprese Sandwich, one of Takada’s favorite meals, and the “Matcha Takada Latte”, which comes with latte art of the idol’s face. For dessert, you pick something called the “Taka-tan Beam Sweet Dream”, which is basically a slice of vanilla cloud cake with strawberries and cream. Sara goes for the “Love Gem” cookies and a black coffee, both of you agreeing to share the sandwich. As you place your order with the barista, Sara finds a booth near the back of the café. You make your way towards her, stopping once to interact with another female fan complimenting your outfit.

“This is awesome!” you exclaim, sitting next to Sara, setting the buzzer on the surface. “Even if Takada-Chan isn’t physically here, I feel her presence all around me.”

“It’s probably because there are all these creepy cardboard cutouts of her. I feel like I’m in a weird Takada-Chan fever dream,” Sara shudders. “Also, the food and drinks we ordered might take a while, considering how busy it is.”

“That’s alright, I don’t mind waiting! Thanks for coming with me.” You sidle right next to her to give her a big hug.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t get sappy with me. I’m only here because you agreed to pay for all the food.” She nudges you playfully.

As you wait for your order, the crowd grows larger. Most of the tables are now taken. The other booth across from you is still unoccupied. You and Sara chat while bopping along to the music, thankful you found an open spot when you did. A couple of minutes pass when Sara elbows you, pointing your attention to the entrance. “Look who’s here. It’s Todo and Yuji.”

Of all the cafés hosting Takada-Chan birthday celebrations, why did they have to pick this one? Are the pop idol gods punishing you for lying to Takada-Chan about your fake relationship? That’s definitely it. This is karma.

You groan into your hands as Sara laughs giddily. “We should invite them to our table! We have room.”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Sara. Can’t I have one moment of peace at one of these things?!”

“But he’s your boyfriend!”

“Shut up!” you hiss at your best friend, who continues to giggle, amused at your distress. “We’re all the way in the back, so they probably won’t see us.” You slouch into the seat, attempting to hide.

“But what if they can’t find a table?” she whines, shaking your arm.

“Good, then they’ll leave.”

“Oh, c’mon! I thought you and Todo played nice at the last event.”

“Yeah. I played nice. Then he told me we could never be friends.” The memory of that still stings as you recall it.

“He doesn’t know you yet, maybe he’s shy.”

You let out a loud “Ha!” and add, “I don’t think shy is in his vocabulary. Unless he’s around Takada-Chan. Then he becomes speechless, which is hilarious.” You cross your arms and slide further down the booth.

“They just ordered. Now they’re looking for a table.”

You grab hold of Sara’s sleeve and pull her towards you. “Sara, I swear to god, if you invite them to our table – “

“Yuji! Hey, Yuji!”

She did it. She really fucking did it.

~~~

Todo searches his surroundings to identify the source of the woman’s voice calling out for his brother. Yuji, who is next to him, turns and waves. “Hey! Sara!” He follows him towards the back of the café., approaching a table with two women already sitting on one side. He notices Sara immediately; it’s that girl’s friend that always breaks up whatever argument they’re having at Takada-Chan events. The other is slouched so much, her head is level to the table. She holds both hands up to cover her face.

“Hey ladies! You’re lucky you found a table. Can’t find a spot anywhere,” Yuji says.

Sara, with a grin, offers, “We have space at our table. Join us. It’ll be fun. Right? Won’t it be fun?” She directs her last statement to the girl next to her, trying to get her to come out of hiding.

When she finally reveals herself, Todo recognizes her immediately: his rival. “Ha, I should have known you’d be here. And here I thought today was going to be a good day.”

She sits up, arms crossed with an annoyed expression on her face. “Oh please, we were here first. You’re the one ruining my day.”

Sara shoves her friend lightly. “She’s just joking. Seriously, you two can sit with us. We’re still waiting for our food too.”

Yuji beams. “Thank you, Sara! Glad we ran into you.” He slides into the booth across from them. Todo grunts with disapproval but follows anyways. I guess this isn’t so bad, he thinks.

Sara and Yuji instantly start chatting to each other, like old friends catching up after a long time. Since when are these two so close? They’ve only met each other once. Todo glances at his rival across from him, who is now scrolling through her phone, making it a point to ignore him.

He clears his throat, attempting small talk. “So, what did you order?”

She looks up and gives a curt response. “Food.”

Todo rolls his eyes. “Yeah, obviously. I mean which special item did you order?”

“Why do you want to know?” she throws back at him.

“I’m just trying to make conversation.” His patience wears thin and he almost regrets even trying. She’s extra venomous today. His last words to her from the meet and greet must have struck a chord. I don’t think we’ll ever be friends. He didn’t mean for it to sound so unkind. Todo doesn’t have very many friends, let alone female friends. All the girls at his high school despised him. And since he’s loyal to Takada-Chan, he has no interest in having any type of relations with other women. But this girl did him a huge solid, especially at the last event. He can’t forget that. This might be a good time to right his wrongs. “Listen, I’m sorry for being such an asshole to you. I get very defensive about Takada-Chan. Still, that’s no excuse.” Her expression relaxes as she sets her phone aside, listening in silence.

He continues. “Let’s call it a truce. Maybe we can both be Takada-Chan’s #1 fan,” he holds his hand out to shake on it, knowing deep down he’s the biggest fan. But for the sake of peace, he’ll keep that to himself.

She eyes him carefully, contemplating. Finally, she reaches over and grips his hand firmly. “Okay, truce.” She flashes him a genuine smile.

There’s a strange tightness in his chest upon seeing this. Weird. He clears his throat again and asks once more, “So, which special dish did you choose?”

They chat about the food and drinks they ordered. They both got the Matcha Takada Latte. Apparently, she loves matcha while Todo admits to ordering it only because it has Takada-Chan’s face on it. She asks him if he really knew Takada in middle school, to which Yuji interrupts to debunk this very true theory. Sara joins in their conversation, mentioning how the “brothers” look nothing alike, with Yuji again exposing the fact that they are not blood related. The girls laugh as he recounts the story of how him and Todo first met, skillfully leaving out the details about Jujutsu sorcery and the Goodwill event. Yuji mentions Todo’s infamous catchphrase: What kind of girls do you like?

He cuts off Yuji’s story to ask, “Wait, since we’re all here, what kind of girls do you like?”

Sara snorts. “I’m not answering that question.”

“C’mon! It’s just for fun. Todo asks this to everyone.”

Sara elbows her friend. “We all know what kind of girl she likes. She adores Takada-Chan.”

His rival (maybe he should start acknowledging her as an acquaintance now) giggles, explaining, “She’s just so talented and confident! How can you not admire that?” Yawn. Boring. Todo should have expected this.

“Also, she has a nice butt,” she adds, smirking shyly. Now this gets his attention.

Yuji whoops. “Ha! You’re just like us! High five!”

They slap hands, then she clarifies, “It’s just nice to see an idol with a more voluptuous body type. Something I can relate to. Makes me more confident, I guess. It’s dumb.”

Sara wraps her arm around her friend. “It’s not dumb. Takada-Chan has a nice badonkadonk and so do you. All asses come in different shapes and sizes and they’re all great!”

Todo watches her curiously. To say he is surprised would be an understatement. He’s already admitted to himself that she has a nice butt. To hear her talk about it out loud is fascinating. And anyone who appreciates Takada-Chan’s butt has his respect.

Suddenly, one of the buzzers vibrates. “Oh! Our food is finally ready.” When she shimmies out of the booth to stand up, Todo’s mouth parts open, fixated on her mini skirt. His gaze follows her as she walks away towards the front counter, the hem grazing against the back of her plush thighs. She looks good. Like, really good. Why is this the first time he’s noticing this about her?

“Hey!” There’s a hard slap on his shoulder. He turns to find Yuji and Sara staring at him, her arm stretched across the table, the source of the smack. “What do you think you’re doing?” Sara demands, glaring.

Todo smirks. “I’m just enjoying the view.”

Her eyes widen, nostrils flare. Yuji puts his head in his hands, shaking it in disapproval. “Dude…”

“You fucking pervert!” Sara yells, both hands reaching towards him as Yuji holds her back.

“Sara! He didn’t mean it! Right, Todo?! You were just joking!” He’s desperately trying to contain her.

Todo waves it all off, unfazed. “Yeah, I’m just joking around, no need to get all protective of your friend.” He focuses his attention back to her making her back to their table, a tray of food in hands, that skirt swaying dangerously on her hips. Damn, she’s really wearing the hell outta that thing, Todo muses. It’s a similar outfit to what Takada-Chan wore at the Meet and Greet, except it’s different. She’s made it her own.

Damn, he thinks again, watching her slide into the booth, more alluring than ever. He notices how her tantalizing shoulders are exposed in the skimpy blouse she wears, the way it hugs the curves of her breasts. How soft her lips are as she smiles at the food in front of her, excited to stuff it all in her pretty little mouth. He lingers on the tight red choker around her neck, teasing him, making him imagine all kinds of interesting and naughty thoughts…

Shit. Maybe he really is a fucking pervert.

~~~

When you pick up your order from the counter, you are amazed at the “Matcha Takada Latte” art. You rave to the barista at what an amazing job she did. In the background, even amongst the music blasting, you hear Sara’s voice yelling, but you can’t make out exactly what she’s saying. Back at the table, you slide the tray of food towards Sara, who is scowling at Todo with her arms crossed. You ask nervously, “Is everything okay?”

Everyone is silent for a moment, then Yuji speaks. “Todo passed gas, that’s why Sara is pissed.”

Todo’s head whips towards Yuji. “What?! Brother, why would you say that?!”

Sara’s expression softens, glancing at you with a small smile. “Thanks for getting the food. Let’s eat.” As the two brothers argue, you and Sara split the Caprese sandwich, chowing down. Sara remains unusually quiet until the other buzzer rings, both Todo and Yuji leaving to retrieve their order.

Sara stops eating, her voice hushed as she leans into your ear. “Hey, just so you know, Todo is totally checking you out.”

You almost choke on the last bite of your sandwich, sputtering a confused, “What?!”

“He was staring at your ass while you were at the front counter. Fucking creep.”

“You’re the one that is encouraging this! You invited them to our table! You said I should have hot angry hate sex with him!”

“I know, but that was before I knew he was a fucking pervert!”

You panic. How do you even respond to this news? Should you be creeped out? In a normal situation, this would be incredibly inappropriate, right? But why is a small part of you flattered? This big hunk is checking you out. It makes you feel good. It makes you confident.

But you can’t forget what he told you after the meet and greet: I don’t think we’ll ever be friends.

You tried to be nice. You were nice. If it weren’t for you, he would have never gotten that close to his beloved Takada-Chan. Even after all you did, he still said what he said. You both agreed to make peace today, but that doesn’t mean you are friends. It doesn’t erase the stress he’s caused you ever since you first ran into him at that mall concert. Maybe this is time for a little bit of payback. And with this recent revelation from Sara, you have new ammo to fire at him.

“Hey, what are you thinking right now?” Sara asks, worry in her tone.

You give her a mischievous smile. “I think I’m going to have some fun with this.”

Is it petty? Yes. Do you care? Absolutely not.

This is going to be fun.

~~~

When Todo and Yuji return with their food, the two women are now sitting across from each other, one in each booth.

“Come sit next to me, Todo.” She pats the seat next to her.

Todo’s brows are knit in confusion, sliding next to his rival. Their knees touch as they sit side by side. Did the booth get smaller? Why does it seem like there is way less room?

Sara and Yuji talk among themselves. Todo stares down at his food, oddly nervous being so close to her. What is she up to? He uses all his willpower to not ogle at her skirt, which is now riding up her thighs.

“Sorry for switching seats. I just wanted to sit next to you so we can talk.” She studies him with her elbow propped on the table, head tilted, resting on her palm. Todo quickly glances at her. God, she’s cute like this. “What do you want to talk about?” he asks, taking a bite out of this steak sandwich.

From his peripheral, he sees a playful smile spread across her face. “What do you think of my outfit?”

It takes all his strength not to spit out the food in his mouth. He did not expect her to ask him that. “It’s…fine,” he mutters.

“Just ‘fine’?”

He growls, “Yeah, what else do you want me to say?”

She leans in closer, breath on his ear. It sends shivers down his spine. “I heard you were checking me out.” He has to maintain his composure. He can’t let this chick make him lose his cool. There’s no other woman out there that can do that expect Takada-Chan.

Very calmy, he replies, “Yeah, and so what if I was?” She seems taken aback by his bluntness. He continues. “I know what you’re doing. You’re wearing the same thing Takada-Chan was wearing at the meet and greet. Sorry, but you’ll never be her. Quit trying so hard.” Harsh. So much for a truce. Turns out it’s not so easy for him to turn off the assholery. No wonder all the girls at Kyoto High hated him.

“Aren’t you just a little bit embarrassed that you got caught being a pervert?”

He faces her fully now, challenging her. “I’m an ass man, what do you expect? You strut around with a mini skirt like that, of course I’m going to check you out.”

She doesn’t back down. “Have you no shame, Todo? Fucking hell, she’s really trying to push his buttons today.

“Shame? You wanna talk about having no shame, you wannabe?” Without thinking, he reaches out, tugging gently on one of her braided pigtails. “What are these supposed to be, her pigtails? Try again.”

Her hand is suddenly on his thigh. “You can pull on my hair a little harder if you like. I bet you’re into that.”

Fuck. What is she trying to do to him? Whatever it is, two can play at that game. He says in a low voice, “Yeah, maybe I do like it a little rough. I can show you sometime.”

Her eyes widen and she clenches against the fabric of his pants a little tighter, gulping loudly.

Ha. Got her.

~~~

Too far. This has gotten too far.

You only wanted to embarrass him, make him blush a bit, make him admit he’s a creep. You were just trying to get a rise out of him, but you didn’t think he would respond like that.

How can you let this neanderthal get you all hot and bothered? You can’t shake the thought of Todo manhandling you. Your mind conjures all sorts of scenarios, and your body can’t help but react. At the same time, the logical side of your mind, which apparently has shrunken ever since meeting this man, is screaming at you. Where is your self-control, woman?! He has no intention of being anything more than a nuisance to you. He’s only saying these things because you started it! He’s not backing down. He’s trying to outlast you. He’s trying to win. You must fight fire with fire. There’s no backing down. You started this mess; you have to finish it. Whatever fucked up game you two are playing with each other, you must come out on top. “How about today? I’ll keep the skirt on while you show me how rough you like it.”

Checkmate.

He looks at you, his expression not faltering, anticipating what he’ll say next. Finally, he chuckles and goes back to his sandwich. After a bite, he relents. “Fine, you win. I surrender.”

You’re not proud of it. Who would be? You’ve thrown all your dignity out the window. But who needs pride and dignity when you have victory?!

At last, you relax against the booth, satisfied. Thankfully, Sara and Yuji are too engulfed in their own conversation to have noticed what just occurred in front of them. For the rest of the meal, you and Todo don’t exchange another word with each other.

Everyone finishes and agrees to leave the table for others to take. You walk around the café, taking pictures with the Takada-Chan cardboard cutouts. Todo’s gaze on you as you pose for pictures, expression unreadable. It makes you flustered, for some reason.

When it’s time to go, you head outside. Sara and Yuji hug goodbye, while you stand awkwardly next to Todo, unsure how you should part ways with him. You made peace, then exchanged highly suggestive comments to each other in a strange battle for dominance. Where does this leave you two? There’s this weird tension between you, different than before. It’s not necessarily hostile, but it’s heavy.

“Ready to go?” Yuji asks, motioning to his muscular friend.

“Yeah. Bye Sara, thanks for letting us sit at your table.”

Sara smiles. “Yeah, thanks for hanging out. It was fun.”

He faces you, sticking his hand out. “I guess I’ll see you around.” A handshake? That’s odd.

“Sure. Bye.” Not wanting to leave him hanging, you take it.

Suddenly, he pulls you forward and leans down close enough that his mouth is to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin as he whispers softly. “I guess we’ll have to reschedule.”

He lets go, stepping alongside his brother towards the station, leaving you speechless.

Fuck.

#aoi todo #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo smut #aoi todo x you #todo aoi x reader #todo aoi smut #todo aoi x you #todo aoi #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk todo #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #idol fan wars #aoi toudou #jjk fanfic

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