#had to get my car alignment done

[rubenesque-as-fuck]

I was going to go to a screening of Hundreds of Beavers because it looks like a really weird/fun film, but it's rainy and cold and I just wanna curl up for a bit(maybe nap) and enjoy the rest of my day off by not wearing pants

[chaniceroses]

Bad Boys Ride or Die (Armando x Reader): Part One

Another day... another morning. Time seems to be passing you by without allowing you to catch up and you feel as if your life is slowly running its course. It’s been about an hour since you have woken up but since the sun is always aligned with your window before work, that’s how you knew it was time to get up and get ready. The birds chirping, neighbors mowing their yard and arguing. A continuous cycle that you sometimes wish would end. You laid there in your soft, silky sheet until you heard a knock at your door. Getting up, putting on your cheetah print robe, you slipped on your house shoes and walked over to your door.

“Who is it?” You asked, holding on to the door knob.

“It’s us, who else would it be?”, a familiar voice answered with a slight chuckle.

You sighed while unlocking the door, opening it to see two black males standing there making eye-contact. They were the ones “training” you for the detective spot.

“What do you guys want? You know this can’t be an everyday routine, right?”You laughed walking away towards your open kitchen. 

“Make sure you shut my door and lock it, I don’t need anyone else barging in.” You continued leaning against your counter-table.

“Get used to it y/n. Since we are training you, and you are going to be with us all of the time…we might as well hang over each other's houses and be friends.”,Mike answered taking a seat

“Mike, we haven’t done any training”. She’s basically a tag-along.” Marcus replied looking through his phone.

“Tag-along? Please don’t get me started..”, you scoffed looking at Marcus and then at Mike.

You stared into Mike’s dark brown eyes, while examining his body features. Mike Lowery is his name, a tall light-skinned black male with a goatee mustache, smooth skin-texture, soft plump lips, ears that kind of sticks out with a tiny earring that brings out his face. 

“Imma guess that you like what you see.”Mike smiled, walking up towards you. He towered over you. It made you feel some kind of way but then again nothing at all. You turned to look at Marcus, to see him shaking his head into his hands. 

“Hmm…no.”, you laughed, patting him on his chest and then walking towards your bedroom. “Give me an hour and then we can head out.”

“Forty-five minutes since you just pulled that bullshit.”, Mike replied sitting down next to Marcus while he laughed .

“Two words for you…Married. Man.”, Marcus recalled pointing to the ring that was on his finger.

“You’re right.”

You could hear their conversation the whole time however, you didn’t pay attention because there were other things on your mind regarding your job. You know it isn’t time to choose just yet and to make a decision that could change your life and your relationship with your “partners”, however you also know that the sand is slowly slipping. 

Time had passed and you were heading out when you noticed your living room window was slightly opened, you stared at it for a moment then walked over to shut it and left. Before you knew it, you were in the backseat of Marcus’s and Mike’s car on the way to work. This was their way of getting to know you better, training you and “being generous”.  However, the ride to the precinct slowly had put you in a trance, reminding you of your last conversation between you and Captain Howard before he was murdered…

“Captain!!!” You yelled walking up towards him. “Anything for me to do, check up on, investigate ... .alone”, you whispered, moving your focus from him to Marcus and Mike. Conrad Howard was his name and he was the one who had partnered you with Marcus and Mike since he considered them to be“ experienced” in what they do.

“What are you talking about y/n?”he asked, raising one of his eyebrows while folding his arms.

“Heyyyyy! Captain… what do you think about-” before Mike could finish his sentence, he was interrupted by Howard putting his finger up to Mike.

“Did he just-”

“He did.”, Marcus sighed looking at Mike, you and then at Captain

“I was just wondering…if you had any files that needed to be looked at. Or maybe if I need to go somewhere and investigate…something.”, you pleaded.

“I have one file that needs to be-”

“No Cap that wouldn’t be necessary. We can go to the range and practice our shots and ride around to ensure that everyone is safe.”Mike interrupted, looking at you and Marcus.

“I actually have some files to look at myself, Mike.”, Marcus shrugged, walking off towards his desk.

You looked at Mike and watched as he looked at you, then at Captain and left.

“He’s a guy who loves action. He’ll be okay however, I want to talk to you though, Walk with me?”Howard suggested pointing towards the hallway.

“Sure what’s up?”, you asked, keeping up the pace that he was leading.

“I was wondering if you have decided what you wanted to do. With your position here. I know that you don’t need the training but you know it's “protocols”. It’s not me.”, he explained looking through the papers that he was carrying.

You were taking in what he was saying. You entered the portal about a month ago since you came from a different district, however the point still stands. Different opportunities have been thrown at you when it comes to your career and where you are right now, since you’ve been in the game for years. You would think it would be easier however now it has left you stuck. Leaving the precinct and becoming an international agent, stay and be a detective or retire and finally have a family with someone you love, decisions…decisions.

“I haven’t decided yet, so many options and personal things to think about.”, you replied, walking at the same rhythm as your boss.

“Listen…between you and I. Go with what you think is the worst.”, he replied, stopping in his tracks.

“Excuse me?” you replied confusingly tilting your head.

  “You wouldn’t be confused with what you wanted to do, if it was the best option. So go with what you are avoiding.”, he answered, looking up at you through his glasses.

“Not to take advice from you, noted.”, you thought, turning your focus towards the meeting that was happening down the hallway.

“Look, it may not make sense right now but later it will. Trust me.”, he reassured walking towards the room that a meeting was happening in.

“We’re a huge family here. Even if we hate each other’s guts. And with Mike and Marcus… They like you, and I can tell that they’ve somewhat gotten attached to you…which never happens. So ignore the things that are said especially with whatever comes out of Mike’s mouth.”, He continued pointing at you then walking into the meeting.

You watched as Captain walked into the meeting while waving the files that he was looking at earlier.

 “They like me.”, you mocked, while turning around. “They don’t even know me.” you laughed walking back towards your desk.

You must’ve gotten lost in your thoughts because when you looked forward. Marcus was turned around in his passenger seat looking right at you.

“I’m sorry?”, you asked, looking at Marcus to Mike and back at Marcus.

“What do you have planned today?”Marcus asked, looking at you with confusion across his face.

“Um, I have office work that I need to catch up on. I guess I can do that today.”, you replied, grabbing your phone from your purse.

“Office work?”Mike and Marcus replied in unison. Pure disgust crawled across their faces. You thought to yourself if you said something wrong, or maybe if it was your body expression. 

“You’re telling me that you don’t want to get in any action. Hurt people ... .fight!”Mike yelled, paying attention to the road while also taking quick glances at me through the rearview mirror.

“Mike, not everyone loves violence but y/n you should want to get some type of action..y’know. Office work. Really?”Marcus added, looking at the pedestrians going on about their day.

“I mean, if I can avoid it then yeah, I wouldn’t want to deal with it but of course sometimes it just comes my way.”, you replied scanning through downloads on your phone.

“See…I’m not the only person that attracts danger.”Mike laughed while looking at Marcus.

The rest of the ride was pretty chill besides Mike and Marcus arguing over past events with Mike dating Marcus' sister and operations that nearly blew up in their faces and their sex life. After what felt like forever,  you made it to the precinct and were instantly met by the loud voices of cops everywhere and a huge meeting happening down the hallway.

You, Marcus and Mike stared at each other confusingly, trying to figure out what was going on until a police officer came up to stop in front of you.

“They’ve been in there for hours, no one knows what’s going on.”, the cop said, staring at Marcus and Mike and then back down the hallway.

You stared at the people that were in there, making eye-contact with someone who was sitting at the head of the table.

“I’m sure it's nothing. I’m going to my desk.”, you replied, turning to Marcus and Mike and then leaving. You knew it wasn’t just “ nothing” because since Captain Howard was killed barely anyone has used that meeting room unless there was a hostage situation, or something between those lines. However, there were people from different districts in there and paper was scattered everywhere. Everyone seemed obnoxious and worried.

After a couple twists and turns down the hallway, you made it to your desk and flopped down onto your seat to be greeted by paperwork that needed to be looked through.

“What is all this?”, you whispered, opening one of the files and looking through them.

Before you knew it, all you saw was a stack of papers flying across your face onto the table. You looked up in shock to see Mike standing there with a smile across his face.

“You said you wanted files so there you go.”Mike laughed standing behind you.

“What do you want Mike? Because I am not about to look through all of those files, I'd rather be around Marcus all day and listen to him complain about his sex-life.”, you replied sitting down at your desk.

“That’s not what you said earlier.” Mike replied.

“How do you even know that? Mike, you've been telling y/n about my sex life?”, Marcus snapped getting up from his desk.

“Hell no. I-”

“I was in the back of the car. Earlier… when you guys picked me up after coming to my house which has been everyday for the last month.” you interrupted straightening up the files.

“Oh.” Marcus replied, covering his mouth. “I mean that shouldn’t even be a problem, Mike and I go over each other’s places all of the time.” he continued looking at Mike and then back at you.

“Hold up, how did you guys even know where I lived?” you asked leaning back into your chair while making direct eye-contact with them.

You watched as Mike leaned against your desk, gave Marcus a “really” look and then back at you.

“You’re smarter than that so we’re going to pretend you didn’t just ask that question…okay sweetie.”, he replied in disappointment while looking at you.

“That was a blonde moment.”, you thought to yourself. “Well guys thank you for bringing me here but I have work to do.”, you continued pushing Mike’s files to the side.

“I guess I'll grab these and put them back on my desk then.”, he stated grabbing them and putting them on top of his table.

Marcus and Mike caught the social cues that you were giving them and started analyzing the paperwork that was on their desk. They were cool people to be around. Fun and wild but also annoying and extremely obnoxious. They made you nervous due to not being able to know their next move. You scanned across the room and watched how every single person lived their lives. Some looked completely stressed, others looked as if they hadn't slept in months and the rest seemed to be taking each day slowly.

You brought your eyes towards Mike to see him typing things into his computer. You watched how his veins showed through his hands and the way his shirt compressed onto his body. You turned to look at Marcus with his eyes already piercing into yours. He was staring the whole time.

“What?”, you asked looking back at him. You watched as he shrugged you off and went back to work.

The rest of the morning was filled with everyone trying to figure out what the meeting is about, and flashbacks of your last conversation with Captain Howard. You’ve only been in Miami for a couple months now after leaving from a different precinct, and very little has occurred. This will be a long year.

[st7rnioioss]

heyyy so i was watching a matt edit and it was to the song come through by the weekend and i was wondering if you could make a smut inspired by that song please :) i love ur work!!!! thank you

౨ৎ⋆ ˚｡⋆ come thru

chris sturniolo x reader

warning: SMUT, p in v, fingering, mentions of edging, creampie, breeding kink kinda?, degradation, dirty talk, toxic relationship, BAD aftercare. smut w no plot

a/n: HELP i really hope i understood what this song about. busy famous dude who doesnt want a proper relationship. anyways, THANK YOU SO MUCH AND TY FOR THE REQUEST🤍🤍

not proofread!

i just realized i accidentally made this into a chris fic, forgive me please

౨ৎ

"Just put it in a ponytail, fuck 'em from behind Fuck 'em with their clothes on, panties to the side Put the panties to the side, like a don do"

Chris and I’s relationship was.. special. Friends with benefits if you may. It all started when Chris suddenly got a lot of fame for doing YouTube videos with his brothers. Me and Chris were good friends. I started spending less and less time with him, but after one tiny slip-up (aka, fucking in his friends bedroom) at a party, we’ve been hooking up whenever he wasn’t too busy.

One day went something like this:

‘Chris, are you free right now? I’m home alone.’ I texted him, waiting in my empty house for him. I knew he was done filming by now. ‘I’m on my way.’ he answered a minute later. It didn’t take long for his car to park in the driveway of my house. He basically barged in, and without a word I was pinned to the front door, hickeys starting to appear down my neck and collarbone. I had repeatedly told Chris we should stop what we were doing due to his career, but he turned it down, telling me ‘how much he loves me’ and ‘how he just couldn’t get enough of me’. I didn’t complain though, I just didn’t want our situationship to ruin his worklife.

The hickeys by the front door quickly turned into my back against my bed, pants discarded on the floor. “Such a slut, hm? Letting me finger you, panties to the side.” he shook his head with an amused smirk, repeatedly fucking his fingers up into my aching core. Occasionally he’d curl his fingers, adding a thumb to rub hard but slow circles against my clit. “Chris, please- I need you,” I begged. I felt so pathetic. Still fully clothed beside my sweatpants that were resting on the floor. Chris only found the view fantastic. “Get on all fours.” Chris’s voice rasped as he withdrew his fingers from my pussy. I don’t mean to overreact, but I could cry from frustration. Ever since he carried me to my room, he’s been edging me, making me a dripping, and begging mess for him. I quickly compiled, turning around to get on my knees and hands. I felt Chris shift from behind me, looking back to find him pulling his pants down, just so his cock could spring free from his pants. He leaned down to get a sight of my soaked pussy, glistening from the dim lights in my room. “So fucking wet for me..” he murmured, letting his thumb slide down my folds, pushing my panties to the side to get a better view. “Chris, just shut the fuck up,” I whimpered, begging for him to let me be released after having been edged for so long, on top of thinking about him every second of the day. “Watch the attitude or I’ll make sure to fuck some senses into you,” Chris grunted, leaning back to get a hold of his cock, teasingly aligning it with my folds, making sure to keep my panties on. Slowly, he pushed forward, eliciting a quiet moan from me. He stopped for a moment before pulling almost all the way out, pushing in again.

It always made his ego skyrocket when I winced in pain from the strech of his cock, maybe even moan, just from the sight of discomfort on my face. “Holy fuck.. ‘swear to God, you were made for me,” Chris moaned in unison with me. A hand slid from my waist up my back, getting a hold of my hair. Swiftly, he wrapped my hair around his hand in a makeshift ponytail, pulling my head backward to let his lips whisper into my ear. “You like that? Pulling your hair back?” he smirked, knowing he couldn’t get a proper sentence out of me. With those words he only went faster, pushing my head down to make me arch my back instinctively. In response, he only got a few incomprehensible words, moaning and whimpering as his thrusts hardened and quickened. Suddenly I felt the knot in my stomach tighten and snap, cumming unexpectedly. “Chris, I-” I whimpered, getting more and more overstimulated by the second.d “Shut the fuck up. You’re lucky I even consider fucking you on a daily basis. Y’know how many girls would die to be in your position?” he groaned, feeling himself about to reach his high as well. I didn’t answer, mostly out of overstimulation. Chris could cum from my reflection in the mirror alone. The slightest bit of drool hanging from the corner of my parted lips, brows furrowed, eyes closed. A sight for sore eyes. “Chris, I’m gonna cum again..” I managed to mumble out, falling onto my elbows instead of my palms, making Chris unintentionally hit a spot way deeper than before. “Holy shit, Chris!” I moaned, letting myself cum around him once again. Chris wasn’t too far behind himself. To be fair, he’s been holding back for a while. He pulled me by my makeshift ponytail once again, making me groan in both pleasure and pain. “Gonna fill you up so nicely. I’ll make sure nothing leaks out, ‘might even have to cockwarm you if that’s the case. What do you think? Should I keep myself buried inside you?” Chris couldn’t stop groaning from just the thought of it. He only asked these questions to drive me crazy, knowing I couldn't form a proper sentence. Instead, he left me moaning, overstimulated, and tears threatening to spill. The thought of his dick staying inside of me, pushing his release deeper inside of me made me slightly fuzzy, arms buckling. “Chris, please. I-It’s too much..” I whimpered, a single tear rolling down my cheek. With a groan, Chris thrusted a few more times before letting him finish inside of me, making sure not to pull out.

After making sure I was doing alright, he pulled his pants up, pressing a kiss to my forehead while mumbling a quick ‘I’ll see you tomorrow’ as he left with his jacket under his arm.

a/n: hi chat. i found out this week that a whole lot of people i know have been shittalking me and making up rumors LMAOPOO. anyways, i rlly hope u like this, and thank you so so much again ahh ilyy🤍🤍 sorry if this is complete ass, im tired as fuck

taglist: @chrissgirlsstuff @leah-loves-lillies @toriinie @cupidzsq @lacysturniolo @iluvmattyb @ratatioulle @emma4eva @riasturns @sstvrnioloo @sweetbabydoe @elliewrites1 @its-jennarose @abbypost @chrisstopherfilmed @sturniolossss @ducksturniolo @junnniiieee07 @klaus223492 @urfavvev3lyn @vschrissturn @cicimayx @keerahsturn @sturniolololover @domaniquessidehoe @sturniolossss @orangelala @sturnioloslvtt @gwenloremain @k-l-a-w-s

[2neaky]

𓇼°₊.𝚃𝚛𝚘𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚊𝚕 ❀ 𝙵𝚛𝚞𝚒𝚝 🥭

—Want you to suck it sloppy, make it spitty. I'm 'bout to call your phone, so come get with me.

Know you don't drink, can you sip me?

‘Dunk Contest,’ Cash Cobain

Last Installation of this ‘mini-series’ … P.1 here -> P.2 here

not the best editing, i know. this fic has been in the drafts for abt a month & ... it's time for their story to be closed out.

10.06k!Warnings: oral (masc. receiving), handj*bs (fem. & masc. recieving), mutual m*sturbation, filthy talk, *verstimulation, low refr*ctory periods, technically w*tersports (minor), edging, excessive amounts of ej*culation, squ*rting, descriptions of character’s body parts (curvaceous/thick/girthy), use of the n-word (all characters & the writer are Black), original characters

The next time the group gets together it’s well into the fall. 

Months of distance and busy schedules kept the friends separate. Yet, on a random weekend in October, the stars aligned to grant the friends a day of freedom to meet and catch up.

He won’t admit it aloud—that’s a bit too corny for him—but Ajani missed his people. The life of a working adult only gives but so much time for social gatherings. Especially with a whole friend-group.

Even then, it’s not like he hasn’t seen any of them since the party.

“I’on understand why you couldn’t just ride with me.”

“All my stuff is at my mom’s, ‘Jani.”

If he just closes his eyes, he can see the pout on her face. He glances at the screen, eyeing the contact name: Princxss Dia.

“Really? ‘Cause I almost tripped over your flat iron when I was getting in the shower.”

She groans out loud into the mic. “I knew I left it!”

He smiles, eyes now on the road as he makes a swift turn onto a busy street. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles upon seeing the traffic.

“But if I came with you … then they’d know.”

He kisses his teeth, face screwing up. “Man, I care less and less ‘bout that shit every day. I’m pretty sure they know—“

“‘Pretty sure’ is not a confirmation. And I wanna make sure the time is right when we tell them.”

He spots a parking space in front of the restaurant Boku had chosen for the night. No doubt, he’s going to snatch that shit up.

“Why shit gotta be ‘perfect?’” he asks, looking at his rear view camera as he backs into the space.

“I don’t know,” she mumbles. He can hear her moving around on the other side of the line. “I’m trying to … figure out a way to introduce it without … making everything weird,” she sighs out.

“How ‘bout, ‘hey guys, me and Ajani have been dating for a few months now,’” he mocks her voice.

“No.”

He sucks his teeth. “Why not?”

“That’s too blunt!”

“Exactly. What more is there to say? You wanna tell them the whole backstory? ‘Cause I’on really think they need to know that.”

“I’m not saying they do. I just think we need to … soften the approach.”

He puts his car in park before shutting it off, the engine dying down. “I’on know … what approach you talking ‘bout, but when you ready to stop hiding, you lemme know so I could book my appointment.”

“Appointment?”

“Oh, I didn’t tell you? I wanted to get your name tatted on my forehead.”

“ … Shut up.”

He laughs quietly to himself as he pulls down his sun visor. “You almost ready,” he asks, checking his appearance in the mirror.

It’s quiet for a couple of seconds. “No.”

His smile drops and he kisses his teeth. A second passes as he glares at the phone. Then, he picks it up. “Yo, answer my FaceTime.”

The mode of the call switches, bringing both of them into view on either’s screen. He licks his lips, getting a clear view of her pretty face as her phone is propped up against her vanity.

“Why you only got your makeup done?”

She frowns, setting powder decorating her face. “Because I did my hair first. It’s hair, makeup, then clothes.”

He only releases a sigh, unable to even be really upset.

“Aight, then hurry up. I told you we gonna have to work on that late shit.”

She smiles, reaching for a brush to dust off the powder. “Sorry, baby.”

He hums, eyeing her as he holds his phone closely. “You look good.”

She exchanges her brush for a lip pencil. “Thank you.” She tries not to smile too hard, careful not to mess up as she applies her liner.

“What you wearing?”

She blends out the harsh line of her dark brown liner with a finger. “A dress.”

He waits for her to explain further, but the explanation doesn’t come. “That’s it?”

“Mhm.” She quickly glances at the screen, looking away before she cracks a smile.

“Can I see it?”

“Nope.”

Now she’s smiling, a devious little one, too.

“Yeah, okay,” he scoffs. “You just make sure it’s no crazy ass shit. You know how Big Daddy gets.”

Her head jerks back as she looks at the screen, flabbergasted. “Don’t ever in your life … call yourself that again.”

“You just make sure you know,” he pushes before breaking into a smile, almost laughing. “But nah, forreal. That ass ain’t been getting smaller so … keep it cute.”

She rolls her eyes with pursed lips. “Shut up.”

He scoffs, looking out the window of his car. “Yeah … you think I’m joking.” He scoffs.

“Are you?”

He looks back at her, noting her nonchalance as she applies gloss over her lip combo.

“Play with me if you want to.” He licks his lips. His gaze falls to the exposed middle of her chest as her robe has slipped open. “I’on need niggas eyeing my shit.”

“Okay, Ajani.”

“Nah, it’s not Ajani,” he mocks her voice, earning a glare. “That’s Big Daddy to you—“

“I’m hanging up!”

She reaches forward, snatching up her phone.

“Don’t you wear nothing crazy!”

“Bye!”

The call ends abruptly, leaving him to shake his head. Not too long after pocketing his phone, he leaves the car. 

The only thing that’s on his mind being her.

Just before he enters the restaurant, he shoots her one last text.

Jani: lmk when u ready Ima call a uber

His face almost splits in half with how hard he smiles as he daps up his boys.

“Finally, nigga! We expected your ass to be here sooner,” Boku tells him.

“Chill, it was mad traffic,” he laughs. 

“Nah, facts. It’s mad people out tonight,” Mykel says.

The three are huddled close in the waiting area of the restaurant. All of the constant shifting to make way for entering and leaving patrons has pushed them to the corner.

“Forreal. Yo, why you pick this place?” Ajani looks to Boku. “I seen this shit blow up on TikTok.”

“Nigga, that’s where I got it from.”

All three dissolve into boisterous laughter, because Boku would be the one to make such a mistake.

Mykel shakes his head. “I’m already knowing the food and service ‘bout to be ass.”

“Nah, facts,” Ajani agrees.

“Aight, now. Not too much,” Boku chimes in. “‘Long as the drinks good, I could give less of a fuck about what they onion rings taste like.”

He and Mykel break off into a mini side conversation of their own, a usual occurrence between all three of them.

As they do so, Ajani pulls out his phone to check his notifications. Even though he doesn’t see one, he constantly refreshes the screen for a possible hidden text message that he just happened to miss.

None.

“‘Jani, you know where the girls at?”

Hesitantly, he looks up at the guys. “Nah,” he shakes his head, face blank. “Why would I know?” He makes a face.

“I’on know,” Mykel looks off to the side. “I thought Diamanté would’a told you something.”

“Why it gotta be Dia?”

“Nigga, don’t act dumb,” Boku butts in. “‘Cause y’all be talking.”

“I talk to Aleya and Sevyn, too.” When he laughs—the loud music masking its awkward tone—his eyes shift between his friends. 

“Not like you talk to Dia,” he scoffs. “That’s for damn sure.”

Sucking his teeth, Ajani wear a mask of confusion. “Nigga, shut up. You still on that shit—“

“‘Cause I know your ass still likes her!”

“Yo, I’m not even gonna lie,” Mykel starts. “I’ma have to side with Bo’ on this one. You might as well tell her at this point.”

His face contorts with annoyance. 

Nigga, shut up.

“That’s if he not already fucking her,” Boku laughs.

His brows pull together at Boku’s brash statement. “Yo, what?” 

Mykel rolls his lips inward, watching the two with caution. He questions, should he step in between this?

“Nah, I’m just saying! You’on gotta be embarrassed—”

“I ain’t embarrassed, nigga. There’s not shit to say, fuck I’ma be embarrassed for?”

Boku laughs, glancing at Mykel for backup. The other man remains quiet.

“Aight, then stand on it! Just say you fuckin’ her—“

Ajani doesn’t even realize that he takes a step forward. “Yo, shut the fuck up talking ‘bout her like that—“

“Alright, chill out now.” Mykel steps between them, placing a hand in front of Ajani to keep him back. 

Boku pulls his brows together. “Yo, wassup with you?”

“Ain’t shit up with nothing, you just make sure you keep shit respectful.” The scowl on his lips only deepens.

Boku raises his hands in defense. “My fault, bro. I wasn’t tryna offend—”

“Yeah, that’s ’cause you just open your mouth to say bullshit.” Ajani backs up the more Mykel pushes against him. “Like she not your fuckin’ friend, too, my nigga. What?”

“You good, bro. You good,” Mykel tells him. “Relax.”

“Just fuckin’ talkin’,” he rambles.

Before he can acknowledge the apology, his phone buzzes in his hand. Fully stepping away from them, Ajani checks his messages.

Princxss Dia: I’m ready

He wastes no time to order Diamanté’s Uber ride. 

With the distance between them and the Lou music playing overhead, it’s hard for him to hear. He knows Mykel and Boku are talking about him.

He refrains from even thinking much about it, though. Because just talking to Diamanté is putting him in a better mood.

Jani: its coming in 5 min

*screenshot of the Uber order*

Princxss Dia: tyy daddy🤗

Jani: 🙄

Princxss Dia: 💀

Jani: send me a picture

I wanna c u

Princxss Dia: it’s gonna ruin the surprise

Jani: surprise 

🤨

Princxss Dia: 💀

Jani: stop playing Dia

read

Thankfully, Aleya and Sevyn arrive not too long after. Their presences lighten the atmosphere considerably. 

Especially when Sevyn and Boku fall into conversation—a playful argument as usual about some dumb shit.

“Oh my God, I miss Dia’,” Aleya pouts. “Where is she?” She does a full-body turn, looking to Ajani.

Boku keeps quiet this time.

The question garners attention from the others within the group, who are now curious of his answer.

He kisses his teeth. “Why yall not asking her? Damn, what the fuck?”

Sevyn’s face screws up as her neck jerks back. “Nigga, calm the fuck down.”

“Right,” Aleya eyes him as her lips twist into an ugly scowl. “I just thought you’d know since y’all seem to be close.”

Sevyn hums in agreement. “Real close.”

Now, he’s making a face. “What that mea—“

“Hi guys!”

The much softer voice breaks the conversation, catching everyone’s attention. 

Walking towards them, Diamanté’s bright smile lights up the dimly lit space. 

Her straightened, black hair flows down her back. Being pulled back, it leaves her entire outfit exposed: a simple black Skims dress, flowing to her ankles.

The classy, white Hermes slides on her feet show off her white French toes. A small white crossbody purse ties the dress with the shoes.

Yeah, she’s cute and all—Ajani would never deny her that. But even underneath the restaurant’s dim, multicolored lighting, he can see every detail of her body “hiding” beneath the thin, ribbed fabric.

Down to her fucking belly piercing.

His eyes flick up to look into hers. He’s staring hard.

“Finally!” Aleya screams.

She runs to meet the short woman halfway, throwing her arms around her. Sevyn is right behind her, doing the same.

The women hug each other and their bodies sway like palm trees in the wind. Ajani’s happy for them—Diamanté, at least. It’s been so long since she’s seen them.

However, the happiness is short lived.

Others seem to be enjoying the women’s show happiness, too. Ajani looks over them, catching a small group of guys watching them.

What hint of a smile that was on his face shrinks immediately.

“I missed you guys,” Dia tells them as she pulls back, covering her mouth.

“We need to go out more,” Sevyn says. “‘Cause not seeing each other for this long is fucking ridiculous.”

“I know,” she pouts.

“Girl, you look so fucking good—” A sharp gasp slices through Aleya’s sentence. She reaches out to grab Dia’s arm, pulling her forward to peer down her back. “Girl, your ass!”

Looking too, Sevyn’s mouth drops in shock. “Damn, bitch!” 

Diamanté only laughs as she looks between her friends.

“It looks so fucking big,” Aleya says in awe. She looks over at Sevyn. “No, like deadass. Like it looks bigger.”

“How she get more ass and mine getting flatter?” Sevyn jokes.

“Drop the routine!” Aleya reaches behind Diamanté, grabbing a good handful of her ass. She sticks out her tongue.

Diamanté only laughs harder.

“Fuck a routine,” Sevyn declares. “Who you been fucking?” The interrogative expression on her face is intense.

“Oh my God,” she says, hand over her mouth as her smile only grows.

“It’s so heavy,” Aleya says in amazement, using both hands to lift her ass. Squeezing tightly, the dimpled skin can be seen through the fabric. “I can’t even hold it all, what the fuck!”

As the girls continue to laugh, Ajani only continues to watch the leering men. 

It takes everything in him not to go towards the women and tell them to stop.

Playfully, Diamanté rolls her eyes. “You guys are chatting.”

“No, girl. Your shit is mad fat, like what the fuck?”

“Okay, okay,” Diamanté says. “Can we sit now?”

Sevyn purses her lips, eyeing her friend. “Mhm. Look at you, you just so tea. Like you come up in here glowing, ass fatter, face card on 10, inches—you just showing out tonight!”

“Facts,” Aleya agrees.

Finally, they return to the other half of the group. Diamanté breaks away from her girls to greet the guys.

“Wassup, Dia,” Mykel gives her a side hug.

“Hey,” she sings.

She pulls away to give Boku the same embrace.

“Hey, Dia.”

“Hi, Boku,” she smiles.

Boku and Ajani make eye contact for a split second. Quickly, Boku looks away just before pulling back.

Ajani doesn’t get the chance to really mug that nigga how he wants to as Diamanté makes her way over to him.

“Hiii,” her voice is much softer.

She’s trying to fight back a smile, he can tell. But, it’s too cute as her teeth slowly come into full display.

The corners of his mouth lift uncontrollably. “Hey.”

Wordlessly, she steps into his embrace, resting her head on his chest. His arms circle around her waist, pulling her body closer.

“Why you ain’t text me when you got here?” 

His chest vibrates with each word. She can even hear the smile in his voice.

“I forgot.”

“Would’a came out and got you.”

She pulls away with a laugh, careful to keep their interaction brief enough so that they don’t get their friends started.

“Damn, Ajani. She wasn’t going nowhere.”

Clearly, that didn’t work.

His smile drops as his eyes flit over to Aleya, who wears a smug grin on her lips.

“Aight, now that all y’all niggas is here, I’ma see if we could check in for the table,” Boku announces.

He parts from the group to make his way to the hostess’ booth.

Conversation between the remaining five is quite mellow. Ajani finds himself standing back, only admiring Diamanté as she speaks.

Even when she’s quiet, he’s paying close attention to her body language and the way she reacts to things said.

“Let’s go,” Boku says as he rejoins the group.

“Thank you, God,” Aleya praises.

“Facts, these heels are killing my feet,” Sevyn complains as she starts after Boku.

As everyone else follows, heading towards the table, Ajani stays behind. Before Diamanté can catch up, he grabs ahold of her hand, stopping her in her tracks.

“Hol’on, ‘cause I didn’t get a proper ‘hello.’”

He pulls her body back in close, missing the feel of her against him. He almost sighs when her soft body presses against his.

Diamanté allows herself to smile as big as she wants to. She angles her head up for a kiss. The gentleman he is, Ajani meets her halfway and presses his lips against hers.

A small peck isn’t enough, as he finds himself going back in for a couple more. And as he does so, he doesn’t resist the urge to reach behind her and cop a feel of her ass himself.

His lips plant mini smooches from her cheek all the way down to her neck. She turns her head to the side, giving him more access.

“You look mad good,” he says into her skin.

His muffled voice tickles her skin, pulling a bubbly giggle out of her. “You told me that already.”

“Aight, and I’m telling you again.” Ajani pulls back just far enough to look her in the eyes. 

Damn, he really meant that shit. It’s almost unbelievable how bad she is. Sometimes he wonders how the fuck he was able to bag her.

“But I also told you not to come outside wearing no shit like this—“

She squeals as he lays a harsh smack to her ass, gripping the fat immediately after.

“Ajani!” She whisper-shouts, eyes wide with shock.

He only bites down on his bottom lip, eyes flitting past her to see the group of men from earlier still in the same spots. 

Except this time, they’re glaring. 

“Told you I ain’t want you showing off my shit like this.”

His other hand cradles her neck, squeezing just enough as he plants another smooch on her lips.

When he pulls back, he sees the inkling of a dazed look in her low eyes. Even from behind those big ass glasses.

“Okay,” she whines softly.

“Mmh.”

She begins to laugh, because she can definitely feel herself slipping into a mood.

“C’mon, before I fuck ya lil’ ass up out here.” His hands fall from her. “Got niggas looking at you all crazy.”

He holds his hand out for her to take. When she does, they make their way over to the table. 

However, before they get close enough, they place some distance between themselves.

Conversation at the table is all smiles and laughter over their platters and drinks.

Speaking of drinks, no one at the table is too good to pass up a bit of alcohol. Not even those who drove here.

“See this? This right here?” Sevyn taps an acrylic nail to the glass of her fruity drink. “I’ma need me some more’a that!”

“Mhm,” Aleya hums, sipping on hers through the straw.

Liquor seems to bring the conversation out of the friends. But, Ajani refrains from specifically addressing Boku. And Diamanté finds herself becoming more and more quiet.

Even with her besties around her, she can’t seem to make herself speak. What can she say, when all of her thoughts are filled with Ajani? Definitely not anything that should be said out-loud. 

At the very least, on a FaceTime call with just the girls.

Hiding behind her lemon drop, she watches him from across the table with low eyes. Every time he smiles, he does so just enough to give a peek at his grillz. 

Fuck, he looks so good. He smells even better. And the way he was choking her up out there, smacking her ass—

No lie, it made her wet. Her clit was thumping for sure. The liquor isn’t helping as it’s bringing up memories.

Like how just a couple of nights ago, she was staying over at his apartment. It was a time. 

Two shots of Don was all it took for her to end up on her tummy, getting dicked down.

He fucked her stupid that night. She almost wished she wasn’t on birth control. But that was just the liquor talking.

Her eyes flutter close as her thighs squeeze together. She has to take a deep breath.

“And Dia’s ass is already off the shits!”

A chorus of laughter sounds throughout the table, knocking her from her thoughts. As she looks around her, she offers a shy smile.

“Y’all some damn lightweights,” Sevyn continues to joke.

“I ain’t—look—I ain’t no fuckin’ lightweight,” Boku shouts, holding his glass up.

“Maaan,” Mykel gives him a look. “You better slow down, nigga.”

More laughter sounds. With the spotlight off of her, Diamanté’s thoughts circle back to Ajani.

And speaking of, he takes a sip of his alcohol to hide his smirk. He’s not oblivious, he could feel her staring this whole time.

Of course, it flatters him. If it’s one thing about Diamanté, it’s that she gets freaky off the liquor. And he can tell what’s running through her mind.

Because he’s thinking about the same thing. He’s just got to hold out for the rest of the night.

Leave it up to Boku to plan some weird ass shit. Who the fuck goes bowling after dinner and drinks?

Shit, at least the place serves drinks. And if Ajani was fucking with him right now, he’d commend him for at least picking a good spot.

The alley is surprisingly busy around this time, for it being almost eleven pm. It’s mostly dark in here, just like the damn restaurant.

Why doesn’t Boku ever pick places with good lighting?

“On my soul, I’m washing y’all niggas,” Aleya swears. She shoves a foot into the rented pair of shoes.

Mykel shakes his head, strapping up his pair. “Here she go.”

“Oh shit … I don’t got not socks, y’all.” The usual rasp in Sevyn’s voice is worse due to the drinks.

“Me neither,” Diamanté says, flipping her hair over her shoulder as she fans herself.

Not only is she just a bit horny, but she’s fucking hot. The only downside to drinking. She only hopes she doesn’t sweat her silk press out.

“There’s a booth that sells them,” Boku says.

“Honestly, I don’t think I’ma play. I’ll just watch y’all,” she smiles.

“Ugh! Boringgg,” Aleya groans, throwing her head back.

Sevyn looks to Diamanté. “Okay, well, you could come with me while I buy my socks?”

She nods, prompting her to stand up. 

“Can’t wait to wear them shoes. Fuck these heels, bro.” Sevyn holds on to her shoulder for support.

“Aye, if y’all get lost, call one’a us,” Ajani says. “It’s too many people in here tonight.”

“Sure thing, officer!” Sevyn scoffs.

Ajani gives her a scowl, and Dia gives him a short wave before the two of them are off.

“Damn, that’s a long ass line!” Sevyn scowls seeing the bodies fill the area.

“Oh my gosh,” Diamanté frowns.

“I do not wanna be standing on these fucking heels any longer!”

Kissing her teeth, she reluctantly joins the line, Dia in tow. As they wait, both women are scrolling through their phones trying to pass the time.

But it doesn’t take long for them to get to talking.

“If I ask you this question, you gonna be honest?”

Diamanté peers up from her screen to look at Sevyn. Her brows pull together in question. “Yeah?”

Sevyn eyes her for a moment. “You and Ajani fucking? Like—and be honest. Don’t lie to me girl, I hate that shit.”

A sigh leaves Diamanté. Clicking her phone off, she fully looks her friend in the eyes. “Yeah—“

“I knew it! I fucking knew iiit!” Sevyn jumps up and down on her supposedly aching feet. “Fuck! Since when?”

Trying to keep herself from smiling, she stays quiet.

A gasp. “It was after the party, wasn’t it?”

She nods, her smile growing.

They move up in the line.

“Bitch! I fucking—nah, ‘cause I checked your fucking lo’ and your ass was still there after we all left. Uh-uh, y’all so damn nasty.”

“Okay,” she rolls her eyes. “Don’t say anything about it. I’m still trying to … figure out a way to tell the others.” She frowns to herself.

Sevyn makes a face. “Girl, what you mean? Just drop the tea,” she laughs. “Shit, you could do it in the fucking chat. Matter fact, I don’t even think niggas really give a fuck. We all grown, Dia’. And it’s not like we all didn’t see it coming…”

“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes. “But, I just wanna tell ‘Leya at least, before I really … break the news.”

“Aight, I feel you.” Sevyn looks her over before breaking out into a dirty smile. “So he the reason your ass been getting fatter.”

“Oh my gosh.” She looks away from her, shaking her head.

“That’s fucking crazy. Who the fuck knew he was putting it down like that?”

Just before she can respond, her phone lights up with a message.

Jani: wya

U got lost ?

“Speak’a the fucking devil,” Sevyn says over her shoulder, spotting the message.

“Hush,” Dia laughs, typingout her response. 

“I like how he ain’t even ask about me. So it’s just fuck me, then.”

“What if the ‘y’ means y’all?”

Sevyn rolls her eyes before her face settles. “But, at least he’s crazy about you. That’s all I want for you.”

Diamanté looks up at her friend with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Mhm. I seen y’all at the restaurant.”

Her smile drops and her eyes widen just a bit. “Sevyn.”

“What?”

“If you saw why did you ask?”

She smirks. “I just wanted to see if you would lie.”

The shorter woman groans out.

“Yeah, ya lil’ ass is mad freaky, eewww.” She laughs obnoxiously. “Never thought I’d see you get choked up like that. Or him smacking ya shit—”

“Stop, please!” She hides her face in her hands.

“Oh, I just know he told you not to wear that shit,” she cackles. “You in trouble,” she sings. “That nigga had that crazy look in his eyes. Especially when he seen them niggas staring in the restaurant.”

“Are you serious?”

“Mhm,” she nods with crossed arms. “You just make sure you stay on his good side. Before I become an aunty too soon.”

Diamanté shoves her shoulder. “Don’t wish that on me.”

“Oh, bitch, I’m actually wishing that shit and more. You know I always wanted a little niece or nephew—even if ‘Jani’s annoying ass is the father.” She rolls her eyes.

“I rebuke kids,” she laughs. “Hell no.”

“Yeah, okay. If you say that, you better not tell me that y’all be fucking raw.”

Diamanté doesn’t say anything to that.

When the game commences, Diamanté is the only one to sit it out. And she’s having just as good a time as any.

Mykel had ordered wings for the group—lemon pepper and garlic Parmesan. Drinks, too, of course.

She nibbles on a couple of wings, courtesy of Ajani feeding them to her.

He’s had his fair share of extra drinks. And with each sip, he’s caring less and less about hiding shit from their friends.

Speaking of drinks, Dia’s been washing her food down with sips of water and gulps of fruity, alcoholic drinks. And she really should’ve stopped herself. 

Because now she’s got to go to the bathroom.

“Nah, I dead gotta go, too,” Sevyn says.

“I’ma come with y’all.” Aleya gets on her feet.

“Damn, y’all just gonna pause the game like that?” Mykel says, biting into a wing.

“We’ll be back!” Aleya declares.

The women make their way over to the bathrooms, which—unsurprisingly—has a line.

“Fuuuck! All these fucking lines!” Sevyn groans, stomping her foot.

“I know,” Dia says, shifting in her spot as she holds her lower stomach. “I gotta go … so bad,” she huffs.

“I bet you the men’s bathroom not even full like that.”

Sevyn scoffs. “I’m not going to no niggas’ bathroom at a bowling alley. ‘Bouta smell like funky dick and straight piss in there.”

Dia laughs.

“But, shit, since we here…” Sevyn turns to her. “Tell her.”

Aleya looks to Diamanté. 

“Oh, um … Ajani and I—“

“I fucking knew it!”

Sevyn throws her head back in laughter. 

“Y’all could not hide that shit!” Her eyes are wide as she points back at their lane. “When I seen that nigga feeding you them wings, it was certified!”

“Bitch, you don’t even wanna know what I saw,” Sevyn says, clinging to her.

As she and Diamanté catch her up on everything, they inch closer to the bathroom door.

Diamanté tells them about the most recent date they’d been on together. And while it’s an interesting story, Sevyn can’t help but to feel eyes on them.

She turns her head, to see a group of men looking their way. They make eye contact, as it appears that they’re pushing their friend to make a move.

“Oh fuck no.”

Aleya and Diamanté look at her.

“Y’all, is that them niggas from the restaurant?”

They look over at the men, one of them immediately making eye contact with Dia.

“Please don’t tell me they about to come over here,” Aleya scowls. “Ugh, I hate niggas!”

She says it loud enough for them to hear. And yet, one of them is still making their way over.

Sevyn kisses her teeth. “Bruh.”

The guy making his way over has his eyes dead set on Diamanté. His long locs are pulled back into barrel twists and a mature beard sits on the lower half of his face.

His dangling cross earring makes Sevyn scoff. “This corny ass nigga,” she mumbles.

“Wassup,” he greets, only looking at Diamanté.

Rude, she thinks. Her nose wrinkles as the smell of weed fills the space.

“Hello to you, too,” Aleya sasses.

“My bad,” he laughs. “I just wanted to come talk to you,” he nods over at Dia. 

“Okay,” she says quietly.

“You fine as shit, I’m not even gonna cap,” he smiles, showing a gold canine tooth. “Not on no creep-shit, but I seen you at The Palacades and,” he shrugs. “Don’t hurt to try, right?”

“Proceeds to be on some creep-shit,” Sevyn says.

“Right,” Aleya agrees.

The two share a laugh, causing the man to glance at them. He doesn’t let that deter him, though.

“You … saw me there?” Diamanté asks, her face creasing with confusion. 

“Yeah you and that guy.”

Now it’s Aleya’s turn to make a face.

“Hol’up,” Sevyn laughs, shaking her head. 

“Y’know, I just wanted to shoot my shot. Like, you never know. Y’all might not even be serious—“

“Well, they are. And you’re mad weird for asking.” She twists her face up. “What the fuck? Nigga is you cool?”

“Hold on,” he says, turning to Sevyn. “I don’t remember asking about you. So, I don’t know why you tryna get involved.” He’s getting visibly irritated.

“She don’t have to,” Aleya steps in. “If you seen my friend with her nigga, why are you harassing her?”

Worry makes itself evident on Dia’s face. She’s not sure where this conversation is going to go. And she definitely forgot her pepper gel at home.

“‘Cause that corny ass move that nigga tried to do wasn’t shit,” he laughs. “He think smacking ya ass was gonna scare somebody off? I don’t give a fuck about that shit,” he laughs. 

“Okay, no—“ Diamanté starts, but Sevyn is too quick to come to her defense.

“Get the fuck outta here, you weirdo ass nigga. She don’t want you!”

“She said that, though?”

“She ain’t say she wanted you neither,” Aleya says.

“Man, y’all bitches kill me.”

“Bitches?” They all say in unison.

“Yeah. It’s always the ugly ones talking the most shit—“

“Nigga you look like a fucking dog in the face yourself!” Aleya gets to pointing.

And as their voices climb, both sides growing more aggressive, Diamanté finds herself paralyzed with fear.

She is not sober enough for this.

Back at the lane, the guys keep themselves busy. Mykel cheats, taking the girl’s turns for them—and throwing horrendous gutter balls.

Meanwhile, Boku and Ajani are seated, munching on the leftover wings. Well, Ajani doesn’t eat as much as Boku, but he’s got a couple of bites in.

Neither of them address the other. And it’s … annoying. 

Although Ajani is still upset about what was said, it sucks that this is how their first time hanging out in a minute has to be like this.

But he’s not a pussy. And he’s damn sure not speaking first. 

A nudge to his shoulder brings him out of his phone. He looks up, seeing Boku stare at him.

“Yo, I’m sorry ‘bout earlier, bro. I should’ve never said that shit. I just be talking sometimes, you know that. And I be saying the wrong shit.”

“Mmh.”

“And Dia’s my friend. It’s not right’a me to be disrespecting her like that. If you want, shit, I’ll even apologize to her, too.”

Ajani watches him for a moment.

Their silence is broken by a shout from Mykel in the distance, cheering as he scores a strike.

“Nah … you ain’t gotta do that,” he finally says. “I respect the apology. But watch your mouth ‘bout her.”

Boku nods in understanding.

Silence falls over them again as the sounds of the alley machines, the music, people talking, and the arcade games fill the space.

Ajani almost feels himself dissociating again as his tipsy brain thinks. And one thing about him, is that his mouth runs.

Swallowing, he looks away from his friend. “Nah … you was right, though.”

Boku wears a questioning look on his face. “What you mean?”

It takes a second before Ajani finally looks at him. “We fucking with each other.”

He tries to conceal his excitement. But, he just can’t stop himself from dapping him up. 

“My nigga—uh, no disrespect, though.”

Ajani shakes his head, a ghost of a smile on his lips.

“Y’all better come play before I do your turns!”

“Nigga, fuck the game! Come over here, Jay got something to say!”

Reluctantly placing the ball back onto the rack, Mykel heads over to them.

“What you got to say?” He takes the last garlic Parmesan wing, earning a glare from Boku.

“Guess,” Boku says.

Mykel turns to Ajani, eyeing him. “You and Dia?”

He nods, earning another smile from their standing friend. “That’s what I’m talking ‘bout,” he laughs. “You asked her?”

“Yeah,” Ajani says, keeping it short. But his smile says everything, as he reminisces on that night.

“When y’all got together?” Boku asks.

He kisses his teeth, feeling the liquor in his system. “Uh … at the party.”

Both men stare at him with wide eyes. 

“Nigga—that’s almost six months!” Boku shouts.

“It’s no way y’all hid that shit for that long,” Mykel laughs.

“Wasn’t my idea,” Ajani says. “She over here, scared to say shit. But me—I’on give a fuck.” He scoffs. “I’a get her shit tatted, she keep fuckin’ with me,” he shakes his head, toying with the ends of a braid.

Boku and Mykel share a look, and a thought—this nigga is drunk.

Before either of them could voice it, however, Sevyn’s raspy ass voice enters their ears.

“Y’all hear that shit?” Mykel asks, twisting and turning to find the source of the voice.

“Why the fuck she yelling?” Boku asks, looking for her, too.

“How they still not back from the bathroom?”

It’s Ajani that spots her first—in a nigga’s face.

“Yo,” he says, sitting up, more alert than ever.

The guys notice, too. And it doesn’t take long for Ajani to get out of his seat. He’s the first to make it over there. And immediately he’s hit with the smell of weed.

“What’s going on?”

He immediately looks to Diamanté, who has discomfort written all over her face.

“Hell no, come get this nigga,” Aleya shout, pointing at the man.

Ajani watches him back up an inch as he raises his hands in defense. As he stares at the guy, he finds him just a tad bit familiar.

“What’s the issue?”

“It’s no issue, bro—“

“Clearly, it is!” Sevyn cuts in. “‘Cause you was throwing that ‘bitch’ word around a lot—“

“Look, I was just tryna get at your friend,” he says, pointing to Diamanté.

Ajani’s brows furrow as he looks between her and the guy.

“She don’t want you,” Aleya screams.

Then it clicks; This guy was apart of that group that caught themselves staring Diamanté down.

“Go back to your fuckin’ group,” Ajani says. “You a fuckin’ cornball,” he spits.

“Bum ass nigga—and he stink!” Aleya points at him.

“Man, get the fuck outta here, she don’t need no other nigga.” 

Ajani steps forward as he speaks, the other man stepping back.

“Aight, my fault—“

“It was. The fuck?” Sevyn says.

Finally, the man walks off, leaving the friends alone once more. The women seem to let out a sigh of release, and Diamanté seems to cling to Ajani’s side.

“That fucking weirdo. Shit just pissed me off I don’t even wanna pee no more.” Sevyn crosses her arms, her anger slow to dissipate.

“No, I’m still gonna use the bathroom,” Aleya scoffs.

“Me too.”

Diamanté’s quiet voice grabs their attentions, especially Ajani’s.

His brows furrow. “Nah, you could use the bathroom home.”

Her eyes widen. “What?”

“Yeah, fuck all this shit. We going.”

“Ajani—“

He shakes his head. “Nah, I’on give a fuck. That nigga got me fucked up.”

Aleya and Sevyn share a knowing look.

“Tell ‘em niggas we gone,” he says, taking up Diamanté’s hand.

Too tipsy to really object, she tells her friends ‘goodnight,’ promising to text them tomorrow.

Sevyn and Aleya’s farewells are drowned out by their quickly increasing distance and the overall loudness of the alley.

When they finally make it outside, the cool breeze of tonight hits her clammy skin. She squeezes his hand tighter.

“Fuckin’ bum ass nigga—I knew I seen him.”

She peers up at him, his eyes staring off into the distance as he speaks his thoughts.

“Should’a fucked him up, if I’m being honest.”

When they reach his car, Ajani opens the passenger door for her. She climbs inside, relieved to be off her feet.

But before he closes the door, he bends down to look her in the eyes.

“You good?”

She nods. “Yeah.”

“He didn’t touch you or nothing?”

“No, Ajani. I’m good.” 

With a nod, he shuts the car door and walks over to his side before sliding behind the wheel.

The drive to his apartment is quiet for the first few minutes. Even his music plays low over the speakers.

She watches his side profile, noting the lowness of his eyes and the way his shoulders sag.

“I’m sorry.”

His eyes don’t leave the road, but his brows furrow. “For what?”

She only shrugs, the small action enough to garner his attention for just a second.

“You ain’t do shit. That nigga was just a creep.”

“Yeah,” she exhales. 

“Shit, but I definitely shouldn’t be driving right now.” He drags a hand down his face. “Just tryna get in my fuckin’ bed.”

Licking her lips, Diamanté busies her hands by toying with her phone. “Are you really tired?”

He gives her a quick side eye as a lazy smile presents on his face.

“Depends … what you tryna do?”

She looks forward at the nearly empty road ahead of them. Then she shrugs.

“Yeah, I seen the way you was looking at me back at the restaurant... Lil’ freaky ass.”

She laughs just a bit. “It’s been a couple days … what do you expect?”

He scoffs, leaning back in his seat as he leaves one hand on the wheel. “You really sumn else,” he says low, rubbing his chin.

Chewing on her lower lip, she stares at him as a thought brews in her head. Her silence cause him to look her way.

“What you thinkin’ ‘bout over there?”

She releases her bottom lip. Her eyes drop to his lap.

“Can I touch it?”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head. “Could do whatever you want … it’s yours.”

With caution, she slowly reaches over the console and spreads her hand over his lap. She traces the barely-hard length through his jeans.

He retains his composure even as he struggles to focus on driving properly.

“You smelled so good today,” she whispers.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” she breathes out. “So fucking good. She laughs softly, pulling a smile out of him.

The more she rubs up on him, the harder he gets. She licks her lips and reaches over with the other hand to unbutton his jeans and zip them down.

She slips a hand between the layer of his jeans and his boxers, feeling him up through the thin fabric.

“When we was at the restaurant, I was thinking of last weekend, when I stayed over.”

Cradling the underside of his dick, her thumb swipes over his fat tip. Excitement races through her as she feels every curve of the mushroom-shaped head.

A faint twitch makes her smile bigger.

“How you was fucking me.”

Her voice slightly lifts at the end of her sentence, as if the thought alone was enough to get her going.

He found that shit so sexy.

Her thumb continues to rub circles into him. However, she also begins to squeeze him in her palm.

Ajani shifts in his seat, his legs widening on their own.

“Fuck, you were so deep, baby.”

She’s squeezing him harder, her little hand working his tip.

“So fucking deep—“

He barely hears the tiny moan that slips out. It takes his attention off of the road for a couple of seconds.

Just long enough for him to catch her with her other hand now between her own legs, dress hiked up around her waist.

He quickly looks away. The sight sends another rush of blood to his dick, and she can feel it as he pulses in her hand.

As one of her hands feels along his length, the other presses against the seat of her damp panties. The pressure pulls a shiver out of her.

“Oh, shit,” she gasps, quietly. “Fuck, I still have to pee.” Her thighs clamp around her wrist as she remembers her plight.

He glances at her again, trying to fight the melting of his brain as she continues to get him off.

“Keep going.”

His raspy voice catches her off guard.

“W-what?”

He licks his lips and swallows, taking a turn onto a major roadway. “Keep touching yourself.”

“I still have to pe—“

“Hold it.”

Her silence earns another look her way.

“I mean it, too. Just got this shit detailed … so don’t fuck up my seats.”

The gentleness of his voice makes her clench.

His head almost falls back when a tight pressure surrounds his balls. It’s hard to keep his eyes open.

Kicking off her sandal, Diamanté pulls a leg up onto the seat. Her French-tipped toes dig into the shiny, smooth leather as she opens herself up wider.

She rubs herself through her thin panties with a full hand. As she falls into a rhythm, both of her hands sync together as she pleasures both herself and Ajani.

Her legs open up even wider as she changes from using her full hand to just her middle and ring fingers. 

Pushed together, she rubs slow, sloppy circles over her clit. The swollen bud pulses, pushing through her thick folds and even creating a small bump through the thin material.

Her wrist aches, but she doesn’t stop. Her pussy clenched repeatedly and her breathing grows unsteady.

Slow, lazy blinks come before her eyes roll back closed. She whimpers to herself.

Ajani tries not to swerve as his brain tries to focus on two things at once. But, he can’t stop his hips from fucking into her hand—even if just a little bit.

Diamanté sends three, solid smacks to her pussy. Upon the third one, her thigh snap shut and her eyes squeeze closed. Her mouth hangs open as her body freezes.

Before she can stop it, her body lets loose for a split second. Just a tiny stream lets out, creating a small soak-spot into her underwear. Immediately, she regains control, stopping her release.

The pace she’d been able to keep up falters as she grows weak from her own hand.

“Keep going,” he tells her.

She shakes her head first. “I … I can’t.”

“Dia—“

“I can’t, I can’t—“

“Move ya hand.” 

He pries her thighs open with his free hand, and snatches hers from between them. 

He replaces her with his touch, cupping the fat mound before sliding his fingers against her. He feels the small wet spot, and it makes his dick harder.

“Told you to hold it.” He lays a smack down on her clit, and her legs try to close around his arm.

A louder moan leaves her this time. But, she holds it as best as she can.

“And keep squeezing my shit,” he says, his voice deep and heavy with lust.

Mewling, she gives her focus to his dick. Rubbing and squeezing it. And when that’s no longer enough, she pulls him out of his boxers.

“Shit…” he exhales in relief.

The hot, length stands stiff in both of her hands. Dribbles of precum run down his length. She’s quick to swipe it up as she twists both hands over him, pulling at the veiny skin.

“Mmh … fuck, baby. J-just like that.”

Ajani doesn’t let that distract him, however. Hand between her legs, he rubs his middle finger over her protruding clit.

She almost cries out as he neglects to touch her, keeping her underwear between them. 

His pointer finger drops down to join the middle. And he pinches her bud. She yelps out.

“Hold it,” he says, pinching harder. “Hold it.”

Her head falls back as she cries out. The dam is about the break, she can feel it. 

Her body goes numb for half a second, and then she feel the wet spot spread just a tiny bit bigger.

“I’m cumming, I’m cumming—“

He cups her once more, feeling her clench down on nothing in his hand. The pink G-string clings to her lips, conforming to their shape.

Her hands freeze around his dick, unable to focus on him as she tries to keep herself from finishing completely over his seats.

“We almost there … almost there,” he soothes, turning into his building’s parking lot.

After regaining her composure, Dia tucks him back in his pants and zips him back up.

Ajani removes his hand as he parks in his designated spot, giving her the chance to fix herself.

When they get out the car, it’s a bit of relief. However, Ajani still has to make it to his apartment without being caught with this boner.

Watching Dia walk ahead of him to get into the main building, he gets an idea.

It’s hard to concentrate as they stand there waiting for the elevator. There’s no one in the lobby, but that doesn’t make her any less nervous.

Standing, her backside pressed to his front, she feels his dick poking at her. 

Ajani’s so hard, it almost aches. He kisses his teeth, and his hand on her hip squeezes harder.

“Where this fuckin’ elevator at? Not tryna be waiting here all night.”

As he talks, his hips move just a bit, pushing his dick harder into the fat of her ass. It’s not helping, honestly.

But, much to her relief, the elevator finally arrives with a sharp ding. They walk in and Ajani is quick to press the button to the eleventh floor.

It seems like time slows as the shaft achingly climbs the floors. Dia doesn’t get to watch the numbers change as a hand comes around her neck and squeezes—her eyes flutter shut.

“Can’t wait to ruin yo shit,” he whispers in her ear. “Have you bouncing on my dick.”

She moans softly as his hand tightens.

He sucks his teeth. “Matter fact—“

It must be the liquor that has him doing this, and what’s got her letting it happen.

In one second, she’s bent over, her hands bracing the wall before her as he stands behind.

“Should just fuck ya lil’ ass in here.”

He smacks her left cheek before rutting into her. He spreads her ass with both hands, rubbing his clothed dick into her core.

“O-oh fuck,” she whimpers. The friction has her legs trembling.

“Keep fuckin’ moaning,” he pants, fucking against her. His eyes almost roll back and his balls tighten in his pants.

“Baby—“

Slapping a hand over her mouth, she tries to keep quiet … and from cumming.

Backing up just an inch, he instead holds her by her waist and bounces her hard against him. She almost wails, her pussy craving to be filled.

But her torture ends soon as the elevator dings again, announcing their arrival to the eleventh floor. They waste no time getting out and making their way to his front door. 

When they come to it, he hands her his keys as he remains behind her. She almost fumbles them, her hands shaking.

He grabs onto her hips again, gripping tightly.

“Hurry up … you’on feel that?”

The gravel of his voice makes her shiver, and the way his dick is pressed into her ass almost makes her eyes roll back.

His face drops into the crook of her neck and shoulder to press a kiss into her warm skin.

“He missed you, baby.”

The slight slur in his voice drives her crazy. But, not more than the way he presses his hips harder against her.

Click, the door goes as she finally unlocks it. The rush of air that hits them as she pushes it open is refreshing. It clears her senses for just half-a-second before her brain is plunged back into a hot pool of lust.

Ajani’s got his hands on her, spinning her around to press a wet kiss onto her lips. A heavy moan slips out of her as he squeezes her throat.

He sucks on her tongue like it’s his only lifeline, enjoying the taste of her spit too much.

His free hand encircles her waist and heads down to grip as much fat as it could.

The burn of his grip has her clenching in her panties. He pulls out of the kiss just to look her in the eyes.

“Take this stupid ass dress off before I rip it.”

His grip on her throat tightens and she feels herself go dumb a little bit. She nods.

He lets go of her completely, just to watch her pull the black dress over her head. 

All she’s got on is that tiny ass, pink G-string, no bra. The fabric is drenched with a wet stain as it clings to her. And her lips are damn near spilling out of it.

“Not even gonna be able to walk when I done with you,” he mumbles, staring at her as he squeezes his dick through his pants.

“Wait, I wanna do something else first.”

Diamanté’s gaze drops to the hard outline of his dick—so thick and long.

“Yeah?” He looks at her with low eyes, paying keen attention to the outline of her fat pussy. “What you tryna do?”

She starts towards him, walking slow. 

“I wanna suck it.”

His brows lift as an inkling of a smile is on his lips. “Oh, word?”

“Yeah.”

She stops right before him. A gentle push to his chest sends a big enough of message—he falls back onto his couch. And his eyes follow her as she gets down on her knees before him.

She crawls to him, sitting between his legs. Even pushes them apart wider. He almost shivers at her delicate touch on his knees.  

“Would you let me?”

She blinks up at him as her hands snake their way up his thighs and into his lap. He slips further down into the couch, biting his lip as he watches her undo his pants for the second time tonight.

She gets a peek of those grills again, and she just finds them so sexy.

“Awe shit, baby, you could do whatever you want…”

His aid comes as he lifts his hips as she drags the heavy denim down his legs. Drunken giggles pour out from her lips as she eyes his print through his boxers.

Even through the thin fabric, the familiar heat of her palm makes his dick twitch. He has to stop himself from humping into her hand as she grips along his length.

Her laughter melts away as she watches his face with a luring smile. 

“You’re so wet, baby.”

He almost doesn’t even hear her soft voice. But when he does, he looks down and notices the dark spot on his boxers.

“Shit … that’s all you,” he mumbles. His eyes bore into her as she pulls him out of his underwear.

He’s stiff and heavy in her hand. Her smaller fingers squeeze him just a bit tighter, a weak attempt at trying to get a better grip on him. 

It amuses him, seeing how the tips of her fingers don’t even meet when they’re around him.

The warmth blossoming under his skin goads her to run a fist over his length.

“You know how to do it?” he asks her.

She nods before looking back up at him. Looking into his eyes, she can tell that he’s fighting to stay present.

But with the liquor in both their systems, and lust running through their bodies, she can understand how difficult that must be for him.

“You don’t gotta … take it all,” he swallows.

His thigh twitches; Her tongue laves against the underside of the warm, soft tip. She holds him as she circles her tongue around the head, shining it with her spit. 

“Fuck,” he hisses softly, body melting into the couch cushions.

She brushes her tongue against him, picking up a perfect bead of precum just as it dribbles out.

He inhales, shifting in the seat. “Spit on my shit.”

Puckering her lips, she spits it back out on his tip and spreads it across his skin.

“Yeah,” he breathes out.

Holding him at the base, she takes his head back into her mouth. His stomach swoops and his breath stutters. 

Diamanté almost giggles, feeling his tip pulse in her mouth. She pulls off of him with a pop. 

She repeats the action a couple of more times, going pop … pop … pop! She enjoys too much how he groans above her.

“Stop playing, baby, c’mon.”

The sound of him begging makes her clit pulse. 

“Okay, okay,” she says softly, batting her lashes up at him.

Taking a deep inhale, she places her mouth back over the head. Slackening her jaw, she slowly descends his length.

“Awe … shiii,” he stares down at her in shock.

Already, her jaw aches, having to accommodate his size. She gets about halfway.

“Mmmh.”

The vibration of her hums make his toes curl. He jumps with a hiss. The movement gags her, and the sound only arouses him.

“T-take your time, baby—“ he grunts. “You don’t gotta—“

He chokes on his own words as he watches her continue to swallow him with a bit of effort. The sight has him clutching the couch cushions.

Her throat constricts around his dick as she bottoms out. She nuzzles her nose against the small bush of dark curls at his base.

“Fuck,” he mumbles, shifting his hips a bit.

Her eyes flutter close as she relishes the heavy weight her throat holds. His dick twitches, pulling a soft gag out of her.

He loves the sound.

Spit seeps from her mouth, dripping down his length. Trying to swallow around him is difficult.

Carefully, she lays her head against his open lap. She exhales through her nose, trying to relax as she suckles on him.

It’s almost addicting, having his dick stuff her mouth to the brim. She’s content … until she remembers her own arousal.

Her knees burn, but nevermind that. She brings a hand between her thick thighs, whimpering as she caresses herself.

The pads of her fingers slide back and forth over the soaked scrap of fabric covering her pussy.

Her thighs clench around her wrist. But still, she continues, sliding the tips of her acrylic nails against her aching pearl.

He watches her eyes open for just a second, only to showcase how they roll back. Her shoulders twitch.

“You touchin’ yourself?”

She barely nods as another twitch rakes throughout her body.

The already wet patch of her panties grows warmer as she leaks more arousal. Her fingers rub harder and her pussy spasms.

“Mmh—“

She whines around his dick, and his hips stutter.

“So fuckin’ nasty,” he groans. “Like my dick in your mouth.”

Another whimper.

Peeling a hand from the armrest of the couch, Ajani reaches for her straightened hair and gathers it in a tight ponytail.

“Relax your throat,” is his only warning.

Long, slow strokes have her gagging on him. The back or her throat makes wet clicks as his dick fucks the back of her throat.

Tears bubble in Diamanté’s eyes as her head bobs. Shaky fingers push her soaked panties to the side as she rubs through her sticky, creamy folds.

“Look so fuckin’ good like this,” he says through gritted teeth. 

She plays in her mess, webs of cream sticking to the pads of her fingers and her pink clit.

His hold around her hair tightens and his pace quickens. Her gags become harsher and louder as he face-fucks her.

A squeal sounds at the back of her throat as she DJs herself quickly. Her chest stutters as it gets harder to breathe with her choking on him. 

Her body tightens then releases; She sprays against her fingers and the hardwood floor. The hard stream catches his ears, making him sit up to watch.

The whites of her eyes are the only things that show as she cups herself between her legs.

A gooey mess of her spit and his precum drip down his balls and even her face, droplets falling on her bare chest.

“Shit, baby … awe shit,” he groans, head thrown back and mouth dropped open.

His stomach clenches as his brows pull together.

“I’m bout’a … c-cum—fuck.”

He pushes her head all the way down, holding her there as he fucks up into her. She tightens her throat around him, sending him over the edge.

Ropes of cum shoot down her throat, sending her pulling off of him in a coughing fit. 

When she calms, she pulls her hand from between her shaking thighs. It’s messy with the remnants of her cream and squirt.

She wraps it around him and spits his cum back on his dick.

It’s a bubbly, frothy mess. She jerks him off, milking him for the rest of his release as she mixes their cum and her spit together.

“So fuckin’ dirty,” he rasps, his body sagging against the chair.

The squelches of her fist over his dick is music to their ears. Her hand glides with ease as she squeezes him tighter.

“Beatin’ my shit so good.”

Breathy laughter pours out of her as she sticks out her tongue and flattens it. Staring into his low eyes, she taps his dick against the bed of her tongue.

She slides the pink muscle against him before flicking it twice against his leaky slit. He shivers beneath her, and she feeds off the reaction.

Taking his head back into her mouth, she sucks on it with her lips as she digs out his slit with her tongue.

He’s a whining mess as she overstimulates him.

“Fuck baby … fuuuck baby—fuck babyy—“

Ajani’s head falls back against the cushions and his eyes roll back. He opens his mouth to cry out:

“F-fuuuuuck—“

Lifting from him quickly, she taps him against her tongue as he erupts. His cum paints the pink muscle in white ropes.

“So good,” she hums, still tugging at him.

His chest heaves as he tries to catch his breath and calm his beating heart. His ears ring and his vision’s got dots.

It takes him too long to return back to earth, as if she had hard reset him. 

But, that’s not where their night ends—far from it, actually.

[astrolynnworld]

sensual showers

pairing: matt x reader

summary: matt and y/n have shower sex while y/n’s parents are home

a/n- requested 🫡 lowkey a part 2 to car sex

warning: smut! sneaky, teasing, shower sex, quickie, needy.

word count: 726

matt had came with me to visit my parents for the weekend

i hadn’t come by in a few months and figured i should take a trip up there

he offered to come along and i, more than excitedly, accepted

when we arrived, my parents were very welcoming and kind

they helped us bring our bags upstairs to my childhood room

everything still the same as i had left it, as always.

“dinner is almost done, get ready then come down. your brother is also on his way for the weekend” says my mother in a lighthearted tone

i nod as acknowledgment then she shuts the door as she exits

matt seats himself on my bed, “wow how nice it must of been to not share a bunk bed with your twin brother” he chuckles softly as a joke

i roll my eyes with a smile

“how nice it must of been to be close to your brothers!!” i joke back

“yeah yeah.” he responds

i roam around my room as i get me & matt settled in

“alright, i’m gonna go shower now” i say as i finish unpacking all our stuff

“without me?” he says in a corny joking way

“you’re unreal” i laugh, “you can join if you want” i snuggly say before heading off into the bathroom

i close the door, and hop into the shower

no more than 5 minutes later i hear the shower curtain open

i turn around to see a naked matt

i chuckle at his boldness, “so you were serious?”

“of course” he smiles

i continue with my shower as he showers alongside me

until i feel his hard cock start to rub up against me

“matt? are you seriously hard right now” i ask

“i can’t help it.. you’re naked” he softly responds

“you always see me naked ..”

“and i always get hard..”

knowing that matt could simply get turned on by me doing something as normal as showering was kinda doing something to me

of course im naked but.. its not like im teasing him or trying to turn him on

he was just simply hard because of my naked presence

i look up into his eyes and wrap my hand around his cock as i make eye contact

he looks at me with his mouth slightly agape out of shock

i start jerking my hand back and forth as a tease

he throws his head back and whines out a small “fuck.”

i use my other hand to pick his head back up and bend it down close to my face as i kiss him

i kiss him softly as i continue to jerk his cock, watching him struggle into my mouth

i turn around and bend over as i align his head with my hole, watering hitting all on his back

once i align the head, i back up slowly into him as his puts his hands on my hips

“you’re so tight in this position fuck” he whines out

i adjust to his size and slowly start to move back and forth on his cock, matching his thrusts forward into me

slow and passionate movements, tickling my cervix with pleasure

“fuck matt. please don’t stop” i beg

i grip the wall and arch my back in more as i continue to throw back onto him

the sounds of our heavy breaths and bodies slapping against each other fill the room

“fuck i’m gonna cum” he says as he starts to pick up the pace of his thrusts

i groan at the pleasure of his cock slamming inside of me

i start to tighten around his cock

“mmm you feel - so-“ he tries to mutter out as he bends over into me while shooting his load deep in my pussy

i squeeze tightly around his cock as i feel the orgasm overwhelm me

“fuckkk” i whine out

heavy breaths fill the air as the slapping noise starts to descend

“you think we were too loud?” matt asks

“i hope not” i say as i start to stand up and let his cock fall out of me

he pulls me in for a kiss as the water continues to run down his back

“can- we actually- shower now.” i say through breaks of the kiss

“fine.” he rolls his eyes as we finish our romantic shower

————————————————————————

[your-bestamericangirl]

Midnight Love || ch. 3 - white ferrari

Paige Bueckers x Uconnwbb!reader

previous: ch.2 - golden || next: .4 - april || masterlist

a/n: not proofread sorry baes <3

now playing: slow dancing in the dark by joji

She was sat on her bed, the passing clouds cast fleeting shadows over her room, enveloping her in a familiar wave of frustration. Throughout (Y/n)'s life, there had been countless instances where she wished she could freeze time, if only for a moment. In her experience, time never seemed to align in her favour; nothing ever happened at the 'right time,' and she often had to work tirelessly to make things happen. Unfortunately, her life hadn't witnessed any miracles yet, and there seemed to be no signs of any on the horizon to rescue her.

Currently, the clock displayed 5:47 PM.

A river of clothing continued to spill out of (Y/n)’s wardrobe, forming several piles scattered across her floor. Various textures and colours now adorned every crevice of her room. What started as simple 'yes,' 'no,' and 'maybe' piles quickly multiplied into categories like 'yes-if-the-weather-stays-nice' or 'maybe-but-it-would-look-better-if-my-hair-was-up'. Defeated, (Y/n) slumped from her bed to the floor. Choosing an outfit wasn’t a decision to be taken lightly in this context.

5:50 PM

Now would’ve been the perfect moment for her first miracle.

As she stared at the chaotic array of clothing before her, she couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping in. It wasn't just the prospect of selecting the right outfit; it was the nagging uncertainty about the evening itself, looming on the horizon like an unanswered question. After all, it wasn't like she was getting dressed up for media day, it was just the rest of the team. She found herself second-guessing the decision to go at all. With a heavy sigh, (Y/n) pushed herself off the floor, resolving to make a decision one way or another. As she stood there amidst the scattered clothes, (Y/n) tried to rack her brain for what had compelled her to agree to this outing in the first place.

***That morning

"And good Lord, right then and there, I wished I could’ve just gotten killed earlier on when I was in that shark tank because my mom appeared, mad as hell, and was ready to slap the shit outta me-”

Absentmindedly, (Y/n) hummed in agreement as her eyes scanned the fully stocked shelves. The aroma of freshly baked bread from the nearby bakery section wafted through the air, making (Y/n)'s stomach growl in protest at its emptiness. For the past four aisles, KK had been recounting her so-called horrifying dream from the night before, all from inside their shopping cart. While the first 30 seconds had been captivating, (Y/n) soon realized that KK was far from done. This dream had been so 'emotionally and mentally impactful' that KK felt compelled to act out her car chase scene, resulting in her abandoning the cart. After the fateful crash, the two found themselves with a worker trailing them from behind, ready to intervene with KK’s boisterous antics if needed.

The restock of the week was greatly needed. With the pantry, kitchen, and fruit bowl left with nothing but dust, both girls’ moods had increasingly deteriorated from the day before. As KK continued to recount her experience, (Y/n) was left with the task of finding what they needed. “Mhmm, sounds traumatic speaking of that. What else do we need?”

KK gave her a look. “Yeah, it was. Thank you for your consideration.”

 “Always for you. But you didn’t answer my question—what else do we need?”

Realizing that KK couldn’t wring out any more sympathy from (Y/n), she shifted her focus from recounting her painful nightmare to recalling the items on the grocery list she conveniently left at home—a detail she kept from the older girl.

“Uh, okay damn. I think like… meat?” 

The cart suddenly jerked to a halt, catching KK off guard. She lurched forward, instinctively steadying herself on the shopping cart. The harsh fluorescent lighting overhead felt too intense for the early morning, casting stark shadows across the aisles. 

KK turned around to face her roommate, ready to berate her for the sudden maneuver. However, the words of distaste dissolved on her tongue as she beheld (Y/n)'s expression. The older girl stood before her, eyes closed, brows furrowed in the middle, teetering between disbelief and strained patience. KK would be grateful to come out of this conversation unscathed.

(Y/n)'s tone was short, “KK.”

“Yes, ma’am?”

With a deep inhale, (Y/n) gripped the shopping cart, her fingers tightening around the metal handle as she suppressed the urge to vent her frustration. Swallowing back all the profanities that came to mind, she managed a strained smile. 

“What type of meat?”

“You know, like, bruschetta… maybe some bacon-”

“Maybe?” (Y/n) raised an eyebrow, her patience waning.

KK chuckled, the sound bouncing off the fluorescent-lit aisles. “Nah, just kidding. We definitely need bacon. And also… Oh shit… Ice?”

(Y/n) blinked, the abrupt shift in conversation catching her off guard. “...Ice? KK, are you good? Because last time I checked, you were the one who brought up meat in the first place.”

In response, KK stood up from her position in the shopping cart, the metal rattling as she shifted her weight. “No look, it’s Ice.”

Following KK’s gaze, she then spotted Ice Brady in the next aisle. The 6’3 forward struggled to fit numerous bags of chips into her shopping basket, her arms stretched to their limits.

With a resigned sigh, (Y/n) began to maneuver the cart containing KK towards Ice's location. The wheels squeaked in protest against the linoleum floor, the rhythmic sound echoing in the bustling store. Despite her being a D1 athlete, she found herself growing weary of playing the role of chauffeur for her friend. Yet, as she glanced at KK’s expectant expression, she knew there was no escaping it.

“Ice Brady," KK sang, her arms outstretched in a theatrical gesture as the cart rolled to a stop. The spectacle drew the attention of nearby shoppers, who paused to witness the unfolding scene, transfixed by the unexpected drama. "Would you care for some assistance today?"

Ice, caught off guard by the flamboyant greeting, turned her attention from the bags of chips to KK's infectious smile. Amusement danced in her eyes as she surveyed the scene before her. With a nod of acknowledgment to (Y/n), who was still navigating the cart into a suitable parking spot, Ice responded, "I mean, if you hopped out of the cart, I could put my stuff in, but I wouldn’t want to trouble your highness."

“Oh!” KK’s hands came together in childish glee, pleased by Ice’s answer, “How considerate of you, but it's alright, I’ve been feeling courteous today.”

“So now you’re feeling ‘courteous’?” (Y/n) deadpanned as she made her way around the shopping cart across from Ice. As KK made her stellar attempt to climb out of the cart gracefully, (Y/n) stood behind her to help lift her out, “I’ve literally been pushing you around all morning, babes.” 

She then made her way over toward ice to give assistance with the various chip bags enough to feed a family for christmas dinner. 

“So,” KK started her smile towards Ice, selectively choosing to ignore her roommate’s comment “what’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

“Y’know, working had to feed the kids, and all that. You guys sure eat a lot” 

“Wait,” KK gaped, “This is all for us?”

“Have you checked the group chat?” Ice questioned. In fact, they had not. Though she had been added days prior, (Y/n) had decided to keep her distance from that group chat. The two girls turned to look at each other, proceeded by KK quickly checking her phone.

Soon enough, her eyes ignited from within. “Hell yeah, party time,” she sang.

“K, you’re being dramatic, it’s literally just the team,” Ice laughed.

“Theres a hangout tonight?” (Y/n) questioned, her stomach forming knots at the thought of being in a room with all of the UConn Women’s Basketball team.

“Yup, everyone, including you two, are coming over."

(Y/n) glanced between KK and Ice, her expression shifting to one of mild apprehension. "Do I have a choice?" she asked, her voice laced with a hint of resignation.

Both KK and Ice exchanged a knowing look before simultaneously replying, "Nope."

6:15 pm

During her first official collegiate-level game freshman year, (Y/n) led her team to a resounding victory, later that night earning her the coveted title of 'The People’s Princess' of the NCAA.

Beneath the blaring lights of the stadium, (Y/n) was radiant. It was a moment she had long envisioned, the culmination of years of relentless dedication and unwavering determination. With her eyes gleaming and her words flowing with confidence, she effortlessly captivated the reporter and everyone in attendance. Her presence seemed to cast a spell over the crowd, drawing them in with her infectious smile and undeniable talent.

In the weeks that followed, (Y/n)'s reputation soared to new heights. However, amidst the high, a subtle unease began to gnaw at her. She quickly realized that the pedestal on which she had been placed came with its own set of challenges.

Despite her remarkable achievements on the court, she found herself confined by the weight of expectations. The public's perception of her became increasingly polarized, with praise often overshadowed by harsh criticism. She was both celebrated and scrutinized for her gentle demeanour, her commanding presence, and even her choice of attire.

The constant contrast between adoration and disdain left her feeling unsettled, she was constantly walking on a tightrope between two worlds. Over time, she became acutely aware of the need to separate her on-court persona from her everyday life, a process that had equally drained but benefited her.

Yet, as she immersed herself deeper into the complexities of her newfound fame, (Y/n) couldn't shake the nagging feeling that appearance had become everything.  In a world where perception was predominant, she grappled with the notion that her worth was measured not by her character or accomplishments, but by the image she projected to the world.

All this to say that unfortunately, (Y/n) had been second-guessing tonight’s event over and over again.  Only two individuals had truly seen beyond the facade she meticulously maintained: KK and, in a distant past, Paige.

As (Y/n)'s life flashed before her eyes, her gaze fixed on the door before her, its weathered surface worn by years of use. The soft hum of chatter from beyond the door drifted through the air, mingling with the faint scent of pizza and anticipation that hung in the hallway. Each groove in the wood seemed to whisper secrets, a silent witness to her inner turmoil.

She took a deep breath, her fingers tracing the edges of the doorframe. The cool touch of the wood against her skin sent a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of the reality awaiting her on the other side. What would they think of her? Did she look presentable enough? Doubts gnawed at her confidence, threatening to unravel the facade she had carefully constructed.

With a steadying exhale, (Y/n) pushed open the door, crossing the threshold into the unknown. The soft click of the latch echoed in her ears, signaling her descent into the realm of uncertainty.

The scene unfolded before her, intimate and genuine, a tapestry woven with the bonds of teammates. The UConn Women’s Basketball team occupied every corner of Ice’s condo, their laughter mingling with the warmth of the confined space. Despite the inviting atmosphere, (Y/n) couldn’t shake the feeling of being an intruder in this vibrant gathering.

With each step forward, (Y/n) sensed the weight of her decision. The events of this evening would undoubtedly shape her relationship with the team for the rest of the year.

Luckily, no one had noticed her entrance yet. As (Y/n) scanned the room, she searched for KK among the multitude of bodies, most of them towering over her. Despite her efforts, KK remained elusive. Frustration etched her features as uncertainty gnawed at her. She caught her reflection in a nearby mirror, regarding herself with unease.

With a sigh, she closed her eyes and took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Lost in her inner turmoil, (Y/n) failed to notice the door behind her slowly swinging open.

As the door swung shut, the breeze proceeded to cause a shift among her hair. Shoving away all distractions, (Y/n) straightened her back, took a deep breath and prepared for her next step further into the house.

“You gonna move? Or do you need help, princess?” Paige's voice cut through the air, shattering (Y/n)'s concentration. All prior thoughts dissolved from her mind at those words, her focus instantly shifting to the unexpected encounter with Paige.

Despite the familiarity of seeing Paige's face plastered on banners around UConn, the proximity still rattled her. She had thought she'd grown accustomed to it, but the reality of facing Paige in person was an entirely different experience.

She had an image to maintain, (Y/n) wouldn’t shy away at simple words anymore.

With a subtle steeling of her resolve, she turned to face the taller girl, meeting Paige's gaze head-on. Though she found herself looking up at Paige, she refused to give any ground in their exchange.

The tension between them crackled in the air, each word laden with unspoken history and unresolved emotions. (Y/n)'s jaw tightened, but she refused to let Paige see any hint of vulnerability. She squared her shoulders and held Paige's gaze with unwavering determination.

"No need for assistance, thanks," (Y/n) replied evenly, her voice betraying none of the turmoil swirling inside her. "I can handle myself just fine."

Paige chuckled, taking a step closer to her. "Of course you can, Your Highness," she quipped, her eyes gleaming with amusement. "But it wouldn't hurt to let someone lend a hand every now and then."

(Y/n) bristled at the implication but forced herself to remain composed. "I'll keep that in mind," she replied curtly, stepping aside to let Paige pass.

Paige's lips quirked into a knowing smirk, but she didn't press the issue further. 

While Paige moved past her, (Y/n) couldn't shake the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air. Despite her best efforts to maintain her facade of confidence, there was a vulnerability in her interactions with Paige that she couldn't seem to shake.

As (Y/n) made her way further into the room, she found herself enveloped in a warm atmosphere. Smiles greeted her from every direction, genuine and welcoming, easing the tension that had knotted in her stomach.

“Damn, girl, I was just about to check if you had been kidnapped! What took you so long.” Exclaimed KK as she searched every inch of (Y/n). The younger girl’s gaze soon turned towards Paige suspiciously suddenly recounting the day prior, eyes snapping back and fourth. But then quieter KK added, “Hm, okay, I see, I see…”

A chorus of laughter bubbled up around them at KK’s dramatic statement, the sound infectious and light-hearted. (Y/n) couldn't help but smile in response, the weight of earlier uncertainties melting away in the warmth of their acceptance.

Any lingering tension between them dissipated in the face of the group's genuine warmth, replaced by a sense of belonging and shared purpose.

After making her rounds, (Y/n) went to sit by the couch, where a mini circle had formed as the team watched Azzi and Aubrey in their death match of Mario Cart. The room was filled with the rhythmic clicking of controllers and the occasional whoops and groans as players navigated their virtual karts through the colourful tracks. Azzi and Aubrey were locked in intense concentration, their eyes glued to the screen as they jostled for the lead. The competitive banter between them added to the lively atmosphere, punctuated by bursts of laughter and playful teasing from the rest of the team. (Y/n) leaned back, taking in the scene with a contented smile.

As the night progressed, (Y/n) found herself settling in, enjoying the easy connection of the team. Their genuine willingness to engage with her put her at ease, dispelling any lingering apprehension. After wrapping up a conversation with Ashlyn about her cats back at home, (Y/n) decided to take a brief respite. She excused herself and made her way to the kitchen, feeling a headache creeping in as result of the loud atmosphere. 

The cool touch of the glass along her fingers was well welcomed as (Y/n) took a sip of water. From her position in the kitchen, she had a comforting view of the apartment. As her gaze swept from Azzi and Aubrey fighting about wins and losses, to KK and Aaliyah filming their third tiktok of the night, her eyes landed on Paige. 

Obviously, people change as they grow up. Physically, Paige was taller. Her dark blond roots peaked out like a halo. But, the space between them seemed to grow as well. 

With a sigh, she turned to grab another sip of water. The kitchen, bathed in the soft glow of overhead lights, hummed with activity. The tiled floor gleamed underfoot, a testament to the cleanliness maintained in the shared space.

Unfortunately, right as she turned, she bumped into the one and only Nika Muhl.

“Oh, shit,” (Y/n) jumped, the water in her glass sloshing dangerously close to the brim.

Before she could react, the collision resulted in the water spilling on Nika, the droplets now flowing from Nika’s shirt onto the tiles below. (Y/n)'s heart sank at the sight

“I’m so sorry, let me help you,” she stammered, scrambling for a nearby towel, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

Nika waved off (Y/n)'s apology with a chuckle, her easygoing demeanour putting her at ease. "Don’t worry about it, (Y/n). Accidents happen." Nika took the towel she offered and dabbed at her shirt, trying to contain the spill.

(Y/n) winced, feeling guilty. "I didn't mean to, I was just lost in thought."

Nika leaned against the counter, a small smile playing on her lips. "No harm done. Do you want to talk about whatever was on your mind?"

(Y/n) hesitated, not wanting to burden Nika with her concerns. But Nika's warm gaze encouraged her to speak up. "Yeah, I'm just trying to find my place with the team, you know? Sometimes it feels like I'm still the new kid."

Nika nodded in understanding, crossing her arms casually. "I get that. But trust me, (Y/n), you fit right in. Everyone likes you."

(Y/n) felt a warmth spread through her chest at Nika's words, and she couldn't help but blush. "Thanks, Nika. That means a lot."

Nika chuckled, nudging (Y/n) playfully. "Hey, don't mention it. And you know what? Even Paige couldn't stop talking about how excited she was when she found out you were joining."

(Y/n)'s eyes widened in surprise at the mention of Paige. "Really?"

Nika nodded, a knowing smile on her face. "Yep, really. It seems you’re quite the People’s Princess, (Y/n)."

Feeling a mix of emotions, (Y/n) leaned against the counter beside Nika, both of them watching the group outside the kitchen enjoying themselves. The sounds of laughter and chatter filled the air, creating a comforting backdrop to their conversation.

 However, (Y/n)'s attention was soon drawn to the sight of everyone getting up and preparing to leave. "Where is everyone going?" she asked, confusion evident in her voice.

Nika followed her gaze, her expression turning playful. "I guess it’s about that time now.” Nika then stood up to trail the team out of the apartment. “Team tradition."

Now playing: white ferrari by frank ocean

The night enveloped the surroundings in a tranquil embrace, casting a serene aura over the playground. The soft glow of the moon and stars illuminated the path ahead, casting gentle shadows on the playground equipment.

Amidst the laughter of her companions, (Y/n) found herself immersed in the peaceful ambiance of the night. As she followed behind the group, she couldn't help but feel a sense of contentment wash over her. The cool night air brushed against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of freshly cut grass and distant city lights.

With each step, (Y/n) felt a weight lifting from her shoulders, replaced by a quiet sense of serenity. She took in the sight of her newfound teammates friends ahead, their silhouettes dancing against the night sky, and allowed herself to be relax the moment, grateful for the new joys she would encounter with this team.

As they made their way onto the playground, the flash of red and blue metal bars pierced the air, bringing back memories of a time when playing D1 basketball was just a distant dream.

Following close behind, (Y/n) ended her destination at a swing set that shone silver and gold against the night sky. The chains groaned in response of her weight, their link rattling together, forming a melody long forgotten. As her world slowly swung on an axis, (Y/n) couldn’t help but finally be at ease. 

As (Y/n) allowed herself to sink into the comforting rhythm of the swing, she became aware of a presence nearby. Glancing over her shoulder, she spotted Paige making her way towards the swing set, her silhouette cutting through the darkness like a shadow. Despite the tension that often lingered between them, there was something oddly comforting about Paige's proximity in that moment. With a silent invitation, (Y/n) watched as Paige settled onto the swing beside her, the chains creaking softly in protest under their combined weight.

For a moment, there was only the soft whip of the wind that passed by (Y/n)’s ears, occasionally broken by the rattling chains and the laughter that drifted from the playground. Though things between the two girls were complicated, (Y/n) missed their time together. 

With a sigh, her eyes searched the distant lights above. Her mind filled in the blanks and connected the dots of the stars in the skies. Unbeknownst to (Y/n), Paige had been doing the same since she arrived.

“Ursa Major,” Paige murmured, the name of the constellation unintentionally slipping from her lips.

At the sudden break in the comforting silence, (Y/n) glanced over to her, giving her full attention. 

"Is it still your favorite?" Paige asked, her voice soft with genuine curiosity, her gaze falling to the side to find (Y/n)’s surprised expression within the darkness.

“Yeah,” (Y/n) spoke softly, her mind filled with the countless nights they searched the sky together. An unexplainable wave of yearning and sadness washed over her senses, “it is.”

Paige then turned her attention back to the sky above, all while (Y/n) was still processing the fact that she remembered her favourite constellation.

“You still remember?” (Y/n) asked, the question slipping from her mind out to the world before she could stop herself.

Paige felt her blood rush scarlet. “Yeah, you know… how could I forget?”

Paige’s answer stunned her. She assumed that since they parted ways, Paige would’ve also tried to erase the memories from her mind. For (Y/n), it had been too much to remember.

Paige's response  lingered in the air, the weight of its meaning hanging heavy between them.

Paige hesitated, her gaze searching (Y/n)'s face for any sign of recognition. "Do you ever miss it?" she asked softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

(Y/n)'s heart skipped a beat at the question, her mind racing as she struggled to find the right words. "Miss what?" she replied, her voice barely audible over the gentle rustle of leaves and the soft glow of the stars.

Paige's gaze softened. "Us," she admitted, her voice tinged with vulnerability.

A whirlwind of emotions swept through (Y/n) at Paige's question. Her chest tightened, and her breath caught in her throat. The weight of their shared history pressed down on her, threatening to overwhelm her fragile composure.

Yet, amid the turmoil of conflicting emotions, a flicker of longing ignited within her.

Everyday.

She wanted to respond.

I’ve never stopped missing us. 

She hadn’t expected such a question from Paige. Though she had been hoping, deep down, she knew that Paige might not have the same space for her in her world. After all, a sun doesn’t need a moon to survive.

Over time, their dynamic had shifted, revealing that (Y/n) relied more on Paige than the other way around. But those words brought into question whether (Y/n) had been wrong about them all along.

Her eyes swept to the side to meet Paige’s expectant gaze, her eyes reflecting the silver moonlight.

“Always.”

Neither Paige nor (Y/n) had been expecting the answer to be spoken. At the revelation, the corners of Paige’s lips curved into the slightest smile. 

As soon as the conversation started, silence drifted between them, The two girls drifted back into their quiet comfort. Only now, they both shared the same information. Possibilities of the upcoming sprung up into (Y/n)’s mind. Things would be different then she expected, but maybe that was a good thing.

(Deleted scene)

“Nah, Paige is occupied at the moment,” KK laughed, her voice carrying over the chatter of the group. With a deft swing from the monkey bars, she landed next to Aaliyah, where her phone was propped up to capture their talents. As they continued their antics, the live chat exploded with questions about (Y/n) after the idea of getting Paige on the stream was quickly shut down.

“Damn,” Aaliyah murmured, her eyes scanning the flood of messages, “y’all really love her, don’t you?”

A chorus of affirmative responses flooded the chat. Meanwhile, Azzi's voice cut through the background noise, calling both Aaliyah and KK over to witness her latest feat on the monkey bars. With a shared grin, the two girls left their spot, drawn by Azzi's infectious energy.

In the darkness of the night, the bottom right corner of the screen was illuminated just enough to make ou two silhouettes together on a swing set. The descovery sparked a flurry of speculation in the chat. Messages scrolled rapidly as viewers attempted to decipher the identities of the mysterious figures. Within moments, messages began pouring out as Paige and (Y/n) were finally identified.

(Y/n) and Paige: Sparks Fly on Live Stream

Fans were treated to an unexpected sight during teammate KK Arnold's recent live stream, as basketball stars (Y/n) (L/n) and Paige Bueckers made a joint appearance. Their presence together immediately set social media abuzz, with fans reigniting dating rumors that have followed the pair for years. Despite both athletes maintaining silence on the matter, the resurgence of speculation has divided fans, with some eagerly shipping the duo while others advocate for their privacy. As (Y/n) and Paige continue to focus on their careers, fans remain captivated by the possibility of a romantic connection between the two athletes.

a/n: yuhh chapter two done! sorry for the wait, it's been a tough week lmao! anyways, im begging you PLEASE LISTEN TO WHITE FERRARI WHILE READING THE NIGHT SCENE ITS SO GOOD

anyways, thanks for all the love and support you guys are the best, loving all the comments <333

also for future chapters, does anyone live in seattle? cuz mc is gonna be from there and i need a highschool that was good at basketball or just one in general. LOVE YALL SO MUCH SEE YOU NEXT TIME

taglist: @kenzie-luvzz , @juphey , @h34rtsformilli , @pinkandlilacroses , @i-bribri-i , @thatonemarvelfan03 , @girlokwhatever , @ihrtthotdads , @kc88888888 , @nfleditsrjustbetteridk , @imsobabygiirl , @vi0lentb3rry , @sejus-wife , @katemlk , @littlelesbianinternujung , @ktaerssoi , @evangelinexo , @c999sh

[lunarlando]

Hi I just saw ur girl dad lando requests r open and ran over bc I'm obsessed with dad lando too and there's simply not enough fics on it unfortunately.

Anyway my fic/blurb idea is fluffy and slightly angsty? so lando and fem!wife!reader's daughters r in their teens and and they're used to reader (their mum) typically being the "bad cop" and lando being the "fun parent" who will spoil them and can never say no to them when reader does. One day readers tired of her teens hating her for being the mean one so they decide to switch roles and the girls r rlly confused and angry at lando and start being nice to reader who's enjoying watching lando take her place for once. Maybe the girls ask to go out to a party or ask for new phones or smth u can decide. Ignore my request if it doesn't seem interesting 😭 and have a grt day byee xx

thank you for the request! a few other grid kids make an appearance, hope that's okay! and lando is such a fun dad type guy you're so right x

feel free to request more :)

Having teenage girls was not an easy feat.

You were warned of the terrible twos and gotten through them twice with your sanity intact, but nobody had ever warned you about teenagers. You suspect it should’ve been a given, but when you thought about having teenagers you always saw yourself as the type of mum who your daughters would feel close to.

Now that you’re the mum of a sixteen and seventeen year old, you find yourself becoming the opposite. You’ve turned into the bad cop between Lando and yourself. He’s the fun parent, you’re the party pooper. He spoils Estelle and Delilah because he can, because he loves his girls more than life itself, and you’re stuck reining in his gift giving because you don’t want them to become accustomed to always getting what they want when they want no matter the cost.

Even when you put your foot down on some of their more extravagant requests, Lando finds a way around it. 

Part of the reason Lando spoils them so much is because he was still racing in Formula One when both of them were born and while they were growing up, so he’d miss things sometimes. He tried his hardest not to miss bigger events like their birthdays and holidays, but other stuff like their school recitals, sports games—he did the best he could, but a lot of the time it just never aligned with his busy schedule. 

Now that he’d taken a step back from being in the seat of a car for the past three years, he was trying to make up for lost time. 

“I feel like the girls think I’m a hardass,” you sigh as you’re getting ready for bed one night. Lando is brushing his teeth, but he sticks his head out of the bathroom at your words, frowning at you with the brush still in his mouth. “Do you think they hate me?” 

“You’re their mum, they don’t hate you,” he replies through toothpaste bubbles, wrinkling his nose at you. “All you’ve done their whole lives is take care of them. How could they hate you?” 

“Because I’m their mum,” you say pointedly. Lando cocks his head, like he doesn’t understand what you’re saying. “Mums and daughters are different from mums and sons. Trust me.” 

“Okay, fair. But I don’t think you’re a hardass. You’re just…firm with them, is all.” 

You snort unattractively, looking at him pointedly. “Yeah, I have to be, mister take my credit card, buy whatever you want.” Lando hums thoughtfully, disappearing back into the bathroom to finish washing up before reappearing and padding over to his side of the bed. “I love that you want them to have everything they could ever dream of, and I say this with nothing but even more love, but you’re not the best when it comes to saying no to the girls.” 

“I know. I just…I hate it when they look so disappointed and sad.” 

“And you think I do? I don’t want to be the bad cop, but someone has to,” you grumble, setting aside your book. Lando snuggles up close to you, propping his chin on your shoulder. “You should try it.” 

“Ha, that’s funny.” 

“No, I’m serious, Lan. Tomorrow, we switch roles. You’ll be me and I’ll be you, and then you’ll understand,” you propose, smiling at him in that way you know he won’t be able to resist. All these years and you’ve still got your husband wrapped around your finger. 

“That doesn’t sound like a good time.” 

“Oh, it won’t be. Not for you, at least. But we’re a team, aren’t we?” 

“I hate it when you’re right.” 

—

Fortunately for Lando, things at the Norris household don’t get interesting until nighttime the following day. 

“Hey Mum, we’re going out tonight. Just wanted to let you know since we might be out after curfew,” Estelle says absentmindedly, not looking up from her phone. Beside her, Delilah giggles quietly, ever her older sister’s follower. You want to tell them no—their curfew is late enough as it is and they’ve got school tomorrow—but you refrain. It’s Lando’s turn to be the bad cop. 

“Sure, I don’t see why not. Ask your father first though,” you reply instead. From the couch where he’s watching some rerun of an old grand prix, Lando straightens at the mention of his name, twisting around to look at you with wide eyes. You raise a brow, tilting your head at the two girls who’ve turned their attention on their dad. “Go on, he’s listening.” 

They share a confused look with each other, but you can see the gears turning in their quick teenage brains. If mum said yes, dad would definitely say yes. Easy.

Or so they think. 

Delilah bounces over to sit on the couch next to Lando, smiling at him widely. “Hi daddy! Can we go to a party tonight?” 

Now Estelle’s sitting on his other side, bringing out the same patented charming Norris grin. “Well, it’s not really a party. More like a few friends hanging out. Super laid back.” 

“Uh huh. Gonna need some more details, lovebugs,” Lando hums, flashing their same smile right back at them. There’s no use in trying to play the guy who invented the game. “Who’s gonna be there, where it is. You wouldn’t want your mum and I to worry, would you?” 

“Um…” Delilah balks. She probably wasn’t expecting him to ask so many questions. He usually doesn’t, just says yes because he can’t bring himself to say no to them. 

Estelle cuts in before her sister can potentially dig them into an inescapable hole. “Adrien’s going, Clara and Maeve will be there too, and Teo.” 

Adrien and Teo—Charles’ and Carlos’ sons, respectively, and Clara and Maeve—Oscar’s twin daughters. You know that she knows the two of you trust your friends, so name dropping their kids would give them a fighting chance. She’s smart like that. You’d admire it more if her intellect wasn’t aimed at sweet talking her parents. 

Lando sneaks another panicked glance back at you, and you shake your head slightly. That solidifies his resolve, because as much as he doesn’t want to disappoint them, you have an agreement, and a deal’s a deal. “Sorry girls, it’s gonna be a no. We’re all staying in tonight.”

“What?” 

“Let’s do something as a family, yeah? Game night? Or you can do some laps on the sim, I know how much you like that,” Lando offers up, as if enticing them with sim racing would soften the blow of their dad’s first no. 

“Seriously? But dad, it’s not a party! We’re just gonna watch a movie or something!” Estelle exclaims, crossing her arms over her chest.

The girls share another look with each other, this one more irritated than confused. Lando just tries his best to stay firm looking. You, on the other hand, watch the whole thing play out from where you are, fighting to hide a smile, because now he knows how you feel all the damn time. It shouldn’t please you, but as someone who’s been taking the brunt of their teenage-ness for a while now, it brings you just a smidge of joy. 

“That doesn’t change things, unfortunately. You two will be staying here with your dear old parents, and that’s it.” 

“That’s so unfair though!” Estelle huffs, rolling her eyes. 

Lando cocks his head at her, brows raised in challenge. “I’d watch the attitude if I were you, Stell.” 

Delilah switches her tactic to try and salvage things, coming over to where you’re still chopping vegetables at the kitchen counter. Out of the two of them, your youngest knows exactly where her mum’s soft spot lies. “Mum? We just want to hang out with our friends. Please?” 

“You heard your dad, girls,” you say, shrugging. “If he says no, it’s no. Sorry.” 

They disappear down the corridor grumbling to each other rather quickly after that, no doubt already texting their friends about how awful their dad is. It almost makes you laugh, because for once, you’re not the one they’re mad at. Lando trudges over to you, pressing himself against your back in a rather dejected hug. 

“Doesn’t feel great, does it?” 

“Is this what it feels like to be you?” he groans. You can feel him frowning against your neck and you chuckle, running your fingers through his curls affectionately. “We’re setting some more ground rules, effectively immediately.” 

“Like what, don’t be mean to your mum? They’re teenagers, Lan. It’s what they do.” 

“I was never like this.” That draws quite a laugh from you. “What?” 

“So if I call your parents and ask them if you were ever a little shit when you were younger, they’d say no?” 

“...Don’t call them.” 

“That’s what I thought.” You kiss his cheek gratefully still. “We balance each other out well, I’d say. I don’t mind being the bad cop sometimes, but you can’t just be a fun dad all the time.” 

“But it’s so fun being a fun dad,” he whines, but you know he understands. “I don’t have to feel like this.” 

“You’ll get over it, darling. They will too, and we’ll be back to the same old thing tomorrow.” 

“I love you, bad cop.” 

“Love you more, fun dad.”

[monstrifex-art]

Howls in the Heights

Art and story by me, for the TF anthology Shifts from the Shelves.

Story:

Smoke hung in the air like an unanswered question. Between the blotchy wallpaper and the liquor-stained floorboards, the poker room couldn’t accurately be described as “nice.” But Donovan owed me a favor, so for the time being this space in the back of his bar was mine. The faint music of a jazz combo leaked under the door, distant and a little sad. I stretched, twine running through my fingers as I looped it around the tack pinning a balding man’s mug-shot to the wall.

“That one’s kind of handsome,” Rita mused from behind me.

I scoffed and shot a glance over my shoulder. Rita stood close enough that I could smell her perfume. She was watching me map my thoughts on the wall with casual amusement, her dark eyes skimming lightly over the collection of newspaper clippings and photographs.

“Maybe he was. But he’s not looking so good anymore.” I uncapped a pen and drew a large red X over his face. “Handyman Wharton was a real piece of work. But no one deserves to die like that. These murders… in all my years of investigating, I’ve never seen anything like them.”

“Mmm, sounds to me like he had it coming,” she breathed as she leaned her chin on my shoulder. Rita was beautiful in a way that made it hard to think straight. She had wavy hair that fell like a black curtain on one side of her face, eyelids and lips done up in a matching smoky coal. Tonight she wore a cocktail dress that poured smoothly down her curves. The thin fabric left very little to the imagination.

Rita and I had crossed paths in a couple chance encounters over the last couple weeks. She had a habit of turning up just as things were getting interesting, and making just about everything a little more complicated. For some reason she seemed to take a shine to me. We’d started spending nights together, and she proved as enthusiastic between the sheets as she was on the dance floor. Maybe more so.

“I’m getting close,” I murmured softly. “All these bodies—there’s a pattern here. Crime barons, crooked cops… someone is making a power play for this city’s underworld. Whoever they are, they can’t hide from the truth.”

Rita slid off my back and glided over to the card table where she’d left her lighter. She sat, one leg crossed over the other, and took a long drag from the mouthpiece of her cigarette holder.

“I like watching you think, Detective. It’s like watching an old car struggle up a steep road.”

“This car still has some miles left in it,” I chuckled. “See here—Wharton was a regular at the Glass Eye. You remember, where we met at the craps table. And here, if my sources are right, Wharton was smuggling ammo for the Pinstripe gang. They’re based out of Turnstile, where you took me to see that boxing match. Hell, if I didn’t know any better Rita I’d say…”

Something cold ran down my spine. Old instincts flared to life, telling me I’d just stumbled into something big. My eyes flitted from headline to headshot, arcs of twine adding up in an intricate equation. My thoughts clicked like a typewriter, checking hunch against evidence, step-by-step. It was impossible but… the data points aligned. How could…

“Ahhh… starting to put the pieces together, are we, darling?” Rita’s voice found me from far away, as if I was at the bottom of a well. I turned to face her, limbs numb.

“You…”

She smiled, white teeth flashing in the smoky gloom. “Of course it was me, dear. It was all me. All along.”

“But… the bodies. They were torn apart. How did you…”

She laughed in that pitying little way she did when she knew something I didn’t. The melodic sound of it almost made me want to laugh with her.

“Mhmhmm aww, you still look so confused! Don’t worry sweet thing, this one is above your pay grade.” She stood with a little flourish, like a magician’s assistant. “Here. Perhaps a demonstration will make you understand.”

A part of my mind, not sure which, suddenly sounded alarm bells. An instinct to run pumped through me, made my heart beat fast and my perception sharpen. Rita was just standing there, but some awareness deep in my hindbrain was screaming danger. Predator. Flee.

I gritted my teeth. Not yet. Not when I was so close to the answer.

A shiver ran across Rita’s pale skin, starting at her back and working out to her limbs. I could see her hair stand on end. She stretched, luxuriating in the movement. Her lips parted, and a long sigh streamed from her throat like a release of pressurized air. “Hahhhh… You’re about to see who I really am, dearest.”

A quiet snapping noise, then another. Dozens of meaty clicks inside her like the sound of dislocating joints. Rita pitched forward, bending double in a violent motion that knocked the card table behind her slamming to the floor. She gasped, lurching upright with an ecstatic grin on her face. Her eyes! They had changed, darker around the edges and brighter in the middle. Her pupils reflected light like burning headlights. I couldn’t look away.

“All the rest, it’s an… affectation. Like a favorite dress that I wear around town.”

Her elbow-length gloves were starting to tear. I could see dark fur through the rips, black claws cutting neatly through the satin fingertips. She groaned, and I could hear the timbre of her voice roughening. Something cracked in her legs. Her feet shifted, pushing her taller inch by inch as they extended into long sinewy paws.

Her dress clung tightly to her curves as her frame broadened. The cloth strained, her collar line deepening as the flesh of her shoulders and chest rippled with new bulk. I could see her nipples pressing through the black cloth, erect with sensation.

She gestured to the dress, to her glittering necklace and sheer stockings. “This, all these pretty things. It used to be me… Gruuhh.” Her voice faltered as an involuntary growl rattled through her. She smiled sweetly, regaining her composure. “But not anymore.”

The fabric gave with a loud tearing noise as a large tail, black and shaggy, thrust out behind her. She took a few balancing steps forward, then reached up to brush the hair out of her face with one clawed hand. Her breathing was coming deep and heavy now, hot fog mingling with smoke in curls around her smile.

“Don’t get me wrong, darling. I do love our little song-and-dances. Being the stunning vision on your arm is a treat! But the real me can’t dazzle a cocktail party in quite the same way.”

She grimaced, and I could see her teeth lengthening into interlocking fangs. Fur crept down her face, pressing in at the edges of her cheeks and trailing down her nose.

She blinked and stared deep into me with those burning eyes. “I clean up pretty nice, wouldn’t you say? I certainly had you fooled!” She cackled with a wild abandon that approached madness.

Her shaking laughter choked off into gasps as she convulsed with another surge of growth. The wet sounds of her bones rearranging were almost drowned out by the noise of her widening hips and shoulders finally tearing her dress to ribbons. I could just see her face masked in shadow, distorting and stretching as her mouth extended into a snout full of pointed lupine teeth. Rivulets of saliva dripped from her black lips.

I stumbled away instinctively, felt the pins of my map wall dig into my back. Stray clues drifted to the floor like leaves. I could feel my cheeks burning hot as I tried to look away, but I couldn’t pull my eyes from her nakedness as it was torn free before me.

Between gasping breaths, she laughed violently. “YOUR FACE!” she snarled, muzzle curling into a feral grin. “You weren’t this SHY when we MADE LOVE LAST NIGHT!”

She was right, of course. I had seen every inch of her in our evenings together. But there was something about seeing her this way—it was rawer, deeper, more intimate and carnal. I was enraptured with a fascination that had never possessed me during our previous dalliances. I couldn’t understand it. I was hopelessly lost in the rhythm of her shifting flesh. Why? The scene before me was horrific, so why was I feeling this way?

“You’re… I just… I…” I stammered, struggling to put words in order.

“You still WANT me, DON’T YOU?” She was shouting now. “I can smell your desire… What is it you always say? YOU CAN’T HIDE FROM THE TRUTH, DETECTIVE!”

That was it. I was more attracted to her now than I ever had been before. What was wrong with me? Why did my heart feel like it was about to pound its way out of my chest? I shut my eyes, turning away with a strangled cry.

“I don’t understand! Please… I can’t, I don’t…”

“LOOK AT ME, DARLING.”

I blinked toward her, seeing only blurred glimpses. I saw the fur bristling from muscle-laden thighs, the tattered sweat-soaked remnants of her dress stretched over her rippling abdominals. God, parts of her were still so human. She wasn’t an animal or a person - she was something monstrous in-between. She was a terrifying beast, but she was still recognizably… her.

“LOOK AT ME!” she roared, and the room shook. I cried out, and opened my eyes to behold her entirely.

She was beautiful.

She was so beautiful it hurt.

I stepped toward her, and fell into her arms as she embraced me. We fell together to a gasping heap on the floor. We began anew, pressing ourselves into one another with bestial fervor.

The case would have to go on a little while longer.

[tianasoasis]

don't imagine to get

so i have done a lot of thinking about the law recently, and i finally decided to make a post on what i had been pondering.

i think that a lot of people "fail" at manifesting (or rather, fail at manifesting what they want) because they are imagining to get. this is a big NO. trust me.

as i said in one of my previous posts, you can only ever really experience imagination. go read THIS POST if you want to learn more about that.

so why do you even care what the 3d is showing you? why are you "trying to manifest" something into the 3d?

i only opened my asks the other day and i've already got so many asks about people who have "failed to manifest". and let me tell you, with this mindset, you are not getting any closer to experiencing your desire.

let me break it down:

the way you experience something is by already being it in imagination. if you think you're being it, but you're really just trying to convince yourself that you are it in order to get it in the 3d, you are not being it.

for example, let's say i want to manifest a new car. if i am forcing myself to feel euphoria and think thoughts that align with the car, but at my core i am feeling like i don't actually have the car, guess what i am experiencing? NOT HAVING THE CAR!

you can only experience through feeling. thoughts don't mean anything. i can think as many affirmations as i want, but if i have not accepted that i have what i want, i won't experience it.

and notice how i've been saying "experience" not "manifest"? i've done that intentionally. i genuinely believe the goal of LOA is not to get something in the 3d reality, but to experience in imagination, after all, we can only ever truly experience something through feeling (acceptance). i think that trying to get something in the 3d completely goes against the very foundation of the law, and that is that the 3d is only a mirror to the real reality of imagination.

forcing yourself to visualise, to affirm, or even to get into the state in order to achieve something, to acquire something in the 3d means that you don't understand the law. the 3d is an illusion. a mirror. it is irrelevant, and i will always preach this.

you imagine to experience the feelings of having what your desire, not to get something in the 3d, because if you imagine with the underlying goal to acquire something, you are not experiencing your desire. you are experiencing lack.

your desires are yours the moment that you experience them. just make the choice that it is yours, and you have it.

[1117feverlessdreams]

Picture Perfect

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

📷💖TAGS: Short but San is veryyy sweet 🌸Lots of fluffy fluff 🎀, mention of oral and masturbation, a lil bunny kink action 🐰 slight smut, and San as a dig bick nerd 🤓!

📷💖PAIRING: Nerd!San x Neutral!Reader, HOT!San x Photographer!Reader

📷💖WORD COUNT: 5.2k

📷💖A/N: I hope to push out more content soon. College has been a major setback for me but there are a lot of drafts in the making!

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

As you pounce around your apartment, you manage to grab the things you need for your class's reunion party tonight.

Your best friend was the host and had requested for you to take pictures as you used to do in your school days. You were so good that the school had asked you to take everyone’s picture for the graduating year.

After that, in your early adult life, your career of picture taking didn’t escalate to where you thought it be after all these years.

It was difficult being your own boss as vague as that sounds. Your clients can be unreasonable at times, and your schedule is always tight.

Luckily for tonight, you’ve managed to get your shoots done early today in perfect alignment with the later occasion.

Upon arriving, it was convenient for you to obtain a reserved spot in your best friend's 12-car garage. In other words, you would’ve had a hell of a walk carrying bulky camera equipment across a road of a walkway to a five-story mansion.

You felt proud that your friend had managed to acquire such an easy-going and luxurious lifestyle. Even if you were still working toward that point yourself, you still felt a sense of accomplishment as their dear friend.

With your parking spot you could enter the house from an alternate entrance, the quiet concrete space sounded still compared to what was going on inside.

It’s been a while since you've seen everyone. You were nervous spite of the fact, but you were always on good terms with your peers.

You take a deep breath and slung your tripod over your back, and adjust the camera pack on your shoulders. You turn the door knob and enter what was the back door to one of the kitchens.

It wasn’t long until you had recognized a few people who had already recognized you.

To your disposition, you were adruptly stopped into a general conversation. It was about 7 minutes long in a discussion of the progressions you’ve made in life with your former classmates.

You were saved from diving into a new topic of discussion when your best friend had walked in.

…

“Hey you! Why didn’t you tell me you were here?!”

A breath of relief releases from your lungs as she stood there in a bedazzling dress, looking like the brightest super star in the whole oversized house.

Well I would have but as you can see, I got caught up, you communicate with kind eyes.

“I guess it slipped my mind. I’m just excited to see everyone again tonight.”

As your best friend, she could obviously read your nervousness and could tell that the initial conversation made you feel overwhelmed.

Especially with heavy pounds of camera equipment crushing into your entire backside.

“Well hurry and come further inside so I can help you set everything up! That way you can take those pictures and mingle for a bit.”

You nod and follow her out to the kitchen to the central area of the party to set everything up in shape. Her immediate action was to take the tripod off your back while you set up everything from the duffle bagged camera pack on your shoulder.

“You’re too nice. You need to let people know what’s convienent in your time, like those arrogant clients you have.”

“Well you know I’m a people pleaser. My whole job centralizes around people.”

“I understand that. She says, snapping the locks of the tripods legs in place. “But never forget that you are a person too.”

No matter what anyone said that was envious of your friend's success, she always remained to be true to the person she was to you and better.

You finish by plugging in the ring light to illuminate your background. As tonight is a reunion, you came up with the bright idea of recreating Polaroid cards that everyone loved you for in your school years.

It was a regular white background, but your decorative expertise made the printed Polaroid photos look anything but regular.

What made you adore your friend even more was that most of your former classmates brought in those photos, in perfect condition, and to keep them after all these years made you gleam at your best friend from across the room.

After many reminiscent discussions, catching up, and strings of sticky glued mess from decorating, you were ready to call it wraps for the night to “mingle”- as your friend suggested.

Truthfully, you didn’t know how to mingle without photography being involved. As if someone had read your mind to prevent you from becoming a disaster of yourself, you heard your name before you pulled the ring lights plug.

“Hey! It’s great that you still do this kind of thing, I always knew this was meant for you.”

You watch as he walks into the light, glowing apart from the dim party lights.

Choi San, the school’s nerdy sweet boy that made your heart throb. He wasn’t any other girl's trope, but that only meant better for you to have him for yourself. But you were always hesitant to let him know how you felt. Even now.

“Choi San?”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t recognize me…”

You flicker your eyes up and down as you take in his black and white suit and tie. He always overdressed for any occasion, but that was one of many things you loved most about him. Not to mention, the boldness of his comb-over hot pink hair.

“No- it just- you grew up so well.”

"As did you.”

He smirks at you so hard to the point that a dimple comes into view in a small shadow due to the works of lighting.

“Yeah, I guess photography was always my way of capturing life with my eyes. It’s great that I can look at everyone when I want and relive those memories.”

Besides the fact that it takes you back to way back when, it makes you weak to the knees from the way he looks so good now, his intense gaze makes you overthink every word you said.

“Oh wait- that sounds really odd right?”

His smile grows larger, and another dimple is engraved in his slim cheekbones underneath the light. “I like odd. It’s boring when things are casual, and even.”

He walks past you and goes behind the camera to analyze your setup. He nods his head in approval with his hands in his pockets, then slides another one out to tap on the stool. “Mind if I do?”

“No. Not at all.”

“Thanks.”

You make your way back behind the camera to take his picture, secretly trapped by his beauty in your viewfinder.

His smile never came back down in any subtle way, which made you eager to just kiss him right there.

“Your teeth are nice but, can we recreate your old picture and just use your lips? Maybe… poke out a dimple?”

“Uh yeah… sure thing." He closes his mouth, smirking directly at you at first before you had to redirect his eyesight to the camera lens. You managed to capture his essence in a still frame with a final click. “My teeth are nice hm?”

“Um yeah… they’re nice”, you mumble, completely nerve-wracked. “It’s a bit of a shame though, but maybe we can use it for another photo." You awkwardly walk sideways to print out the photo as you transfer it from your friend's laptop. “Here’s your pic.”

He looks at the pic in his strong hands, standing back up again with a smile wide as he looks back up at you, slipping the smaller image into his front blazer pocket.

“Sounds like a plan.” If it wasn’t so quick you would’ve caught his glance at your lips, but yet you couldn’t even register that fact he’s talking to you now. “So, you still decorate Polaroids?”

“No, not really! It’s just for the occasion. It’s kind of out of style now so…”

“Oh no it’s totally in now! But no matter who else does it, I always said Y/n started it, and they do it best!”

“Awe thanks. You’re so kind, as always.”

Another smirk of his sly on by, a one-sided one that could potentially do more damage than the normal one. He wands his finger in the air, referring to the space around you. “See you around?”

“Yeah”, you nod. “I’ll be ‘mingling’ in just a few minutes.”

San breathes out a light chuckle, looking you up and down without hiding it before turning to walk away.

…

It didn’t take you long to pack things up as it does to set things up, but from your previous interaction, it made you more nervous to get out into the crowd.

With your luck, as you venture off to find your best friend, you walk into a drinking game in one of her family rooms, decorated with gold strobe lights illuminating the vintage furniture. She started it, of course, and you see San again, standing tall and relaxed on a back wall while everyone else is seated in a circle.

You approach the circle slowly, and yet your best friend manages to sense your presence. She turns around and opens her arms to bring you in to join the game.

Spin the bottle, it was.

Even as grown adults, here you are, still playing childish games.

San then decided to join as well. He taps on someone else’s shoulder to sit right across from you.

“This is for all the single people, your friend whispers, “…this is your chance to finally just go for it!”

You begin to scold her in response, but it startles you when everyone begins to drum roll on the ground for suspense. The bottle gets spun and starts turning in rapid rotations.

San finds comfort in making eye contact with you. You were the only ones not drumming on the ground, or cheering in excitement.

As some sort of messed up fate would decide, the bottle lands between you…and San.

“Well look at that”, a random classmate says, “…the two smart kids, Y/n and San!”

“If you don’t kiss, you have to feed each other a shot!”, a classmate shouts.

Without any thought, you immediately grab onto a shot glass from the middle table and pour it up for the both of you, all the way to the very top.

San follows your lead as you hand him a filled shot glass, rising on your knees.

All you had to do was pour the drink into each other's mouths. A simple task, but the fact that it was San made you slow to understand.

“I got it.” San grabs hold of your wrist with his gentle touch using his free hand. He places the rim of the shot on his rose-pink bottom lip, then nods at you to do the same.

You begin to follow him then, and when he gives you the signal, you tip the drinks upward into each other's mouth as you both tilt your head backward.

The strong scent of liquor infiltrated your nostrils through the wrong pipe, causing you to start having a coughing fit, and accidentally pulling San down on top of you.

“Sorry!”, you both say unanimously.

He rises from atop of you to pull you back up, but you are already quick enough on your own to scoot back into your spot.

“Well!”, your best friend suits from beside you, “the tension in here is suffocating!” She looks at you, reading over the bloodshot redness on your face. “Say y/n, are you okay with taking a group photo for everyone?”

“Y-yeah”, you stutter, “of course.”

“Great!”, she claps. “We should all take one.” She points to the area behind her while looking at everyone on the floor, “On the couch everybody!”

Everyone uncrosses their legs with moans and groans from the stiffness, one of the naturalist things that comes with your age.

“Oh! I need some time to set up still, it’s sort of dark in here.”, you explain while standing up.

“I can help you.”

You look to follow the voice of San, seated on the edge of the couch with drunk girls tossing themselves all over him.

“You don’t have to, you can just- stay right there.”

“It’s okay love… I insist.”

“AWEEEEE!”, the girls whine, forever being allured by San’s sweet heart and his looks.

Conversation between your classmates had naturally begun to pick up again. The task of setting everything up was two times quicker, but with the underlying tension, it felt longer.

As he isn’t too familiar with cameras, Choi San followed your lead once again.

Your hands occasionally touched as small murmured apologies would simultaneously be spoken between the two of you.

You were so immersed that you didn’t even notice your friend grinning as she watched. It was like watching you two as kids all over again.

When you had finally set everything up, you both rose from the floor at the same time, thumping each other's heads.

“Ouch!”, you exclaimed.

“Sorry.”, you both say.

“Hey, Sannie! Come sit with us for the picture!”, the girls scream, messily waving him over as they struggle to make room for another.

You step back to hide behind the camera, snapping threads of photos when everyone is ready to select the best ones for later.

“Y/n!”, your friend yells. “…you’ve gotta get in at least one of these!”

“Oh, no.”, you shake your head. “I don’t think there’s any spots left for me on the couch left anyway”

“You can have my spot.”, San calls you to again.

“It’s okay. I’ll stand behind the couch… it’s not that big of a deal.”

“AWEEEEEE!”, the girls whine again.

“I will too then.”

“AWWWWWWEEEEE!”, they whine obviously for another time.

“Okay, that’s enough everyone! Your friend sits in an annoyed tone. “Are you ready Y/n?”

“Yeah, one sec. You run behind the camera and run being the couch holding up a 3 with your fingers. “Alright, Reunion on 3!”, your friend announces.

“1, 2, 3. REUNION!”

You feel an arm snake around your shoulder, and you naturally grabbed on to it for the picture. One thing you hate as a photographer was noticing yourself in awkward tension in photos. So you’ve trained yourself not to be.

After the picture though, you felt like melting into the floor so you didn’t have to move forth with embarrassing yourself with Choi San tonight, you were consciously trying your best to bring up a plausible excuse.

“Was that okay? I apologize.”

“No you’re so fine. I mean- no- trust me, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”, he questions, looking over the mixed expression on your features. “It kind of happened naturally, but if it made you feel weird then-”

“I grabbed onto your arm anyhow, so if you wanna be real here, we both did it without checking on the other.”, you state with shrugged arms. “You see, we’re even.”

He closes the space and walks up to you and grabs your hand. “I like odd. It’s boring when things are casual, and even.”

“If you’re okay with it, I like to take you to someplace else. It’s walking distance, so don’t be wary.”

“Sure.” You look around to see everyone falling on their faces. “I could use some fresh air.”

..

You walk arm-in-arm across the city’s bridge with pretty city lights, and yet you're still confused about which view you like best with a beautiful man at your side.

He abruptly stops in his footsteps to unlink your arms, pulling his smartphone out of his pocket.

“If it’s okay”, he looks down, flipping his phone in his hand with nervousness, …"I want to take a picture of you at this moment. I feel like- as much as you take pictures-you hardly capture the beautiful moments with just yourself.”

You blink at him rapidly in astonishment, luckily for you, the occasional strong wind was enough reason to blame if you cried.

“That’s okay, thank you for that.”

He nods with a smile, encouraging you to pose against the railing in front of the waters and sky-high bright light buildings.

“You make the camera look good!”, he shouts, eyes being covered by the phone but his dimples peak with his toothy smile.

After a few minutes, you push off the railing, and San stands up to show you the results. It was fair for a beginner you thought, but the fact that it was San who took it made your heart pick up in pace. You looked at peace with yourself.

You take San’s place after reviewing your pictures and give him pro tips. During his photo shoot, you offered him poses which he perfected on his first try. Simply because he was so perfect.

At the end, he struts toward you, even when the camera isn’t on him he looks like a model.

“The camera makes me look good.”, he says reviewing your photos.

“You don’t need a camera for that silly, you’re right in front of me!”

“I mean…”, your cheeks bloom again with red as you smack yourself in the head.

He grins wide again, coming to stand by your side to watch over the city. “Even with this amazing view, you shined brighter than all of it.”

“Wow-um, Thank you, you’re so kind to me San.”

“Don’t mention it.”

A few cars passed, but in between that was peaceful silence as you and San continued to watch the bright lights, buildings, and stars.

“You ready to go back sweetheart? It’s getting late, and I don’t want to keep you up if you have clients to attend to in the morning.”

It broke you a little bit to hear that even San knew you were a workaholic.

“Actually, I’m free all of tomorrow as well. I didn't know how intense the party scene would be, and I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“You didn’t drink all too much, did you?” His tone is guardian-like, an ounce of concern pours within every word.

“Not really. How about you?”

“Maybe one or two, but I really finished neither.”

“So… we’re both good to drive home then.”

For some reason the peaceful silence grows into awkwardness and shame.

“You live nearby?”, San whispers.

“Nope, it’s a couple of hours for me. I’m thinking about crashing at a ‘tel tonight. I don’t want to get lost trying to find her bathroom in the middle of the night.”, you point to the way of the party, referring to your best friend.

A hearty chuckle leaves his mouth as it bounces with his broad shoulders. “That’s really far.”, he acknowledges, …”and I completely understand that but…I have a spare bedroom if you’re up for it. It’s reserved for family and friends only- nothing weird.”

There were a lot more pros than cons you thought, but high school you would’ve thought otherwise. But your adults now, where’s the harm in going over a friend's house?

“I’ll take you up on that, I could save the money.”

“Sounds great.”, he says, holding out his arms for you to grab onto with your own, “I can save you gas too, and drive you back to get your car in the morning.”

“You would do that for me?”

“I would.”

…

Even if he changed on the outside the inside of his apartment showcased how much of a dweeb he still was and you loved it.

He walked you into the room you’d be sleeping in which was a slight contrast of his dweebiness but it still shows his personality nonetheless.

For pajamas, he handed you a t-shirt with the cutest Pokémon character on it and some black sweats. When you came out of the room from changing, you followed the alluring smoke of delicious aroma from the kitchen to find him sautéing a stir fry.

He changed from his formal suit to the casual wear of his black tee shirt and black sweats. But to you, it was anything but casual, because how can such a man look so sexy in something so basic as plain black clothing?

“It smells amazing in here, I’m actually starving.”

“There’s plenty enough for you here sweetheart. What kind of person would I be not to feed my guest?”

“I appreciate it. You’re the sweetest.”

“Of course.”, he moves away from the stove to hand you your plate as you both move into his living room to watch the movie you selected. “We will reserve dessert for later.”

It had been twenty-something minutes since the movie began and you couldn’t recap on what happened if San asked you to.

Dessert was severed right after dinner as promised, but was it wrong for you to want something else more?

“I’ll guess I’ll head to bed now”, you muttered, “thank you for everything, from taking me home and cooking a delicious meal.”

“Of course. He gets up from the couch as you do, “I’ll head to bed now too.”

“Good night, San.”, you wave from across the hall.

“Good night, Y/n.”, he doesn’t shut his door until after you do, which was a little intense because you kept gawking at him.

You can admit that everything was perfect. The bed was at the perfect standard between hard and soft, the sheets were clean, and the room was tidy and smelled nice. But later that night you couldn’t sleep, so you go to check on San to see if he was still awake.

You don’t think to knock on his door in case you might wake him up from good sleep.

However, what you didn’t expect was him sitting up in his bed with a night light and glasses reading manga.

When you come in he’s flustered and throwing the book somewhere across the room while he tosses his glasses on his nightstand.

“Sorry! I thought you were asleep!”

You rush to close the door and San struggles to reach you as his ankles get tangled from the sheets covering his bed.

“Wait, it’s okay!” You open the door slightly with only one eye in appearance, idolizing San’s unbelievable frame. “Is everything all right? Did you need anything?”, he says in a rushed tone.

“I just-honestly, my nerves are bad and it’s hard for me to settle in at other people’s houses.”

“Oh! I’m sorry.”, he grabs a blanket from his bed to reveal another one, moving to stand in front of the edge, and closer to you. “You can take the bed in here if that’s better for you. I’ll make a pallet on the floor.”

“No that’s okay!” You wave him off between the cracks. “Maybe I’m just paranoid.”

“I promise, it’s alright.” He walks much closer to you now, taking his grip on the door and opening it wide to your exposure. “Please…I insist.”

You walk into the room, looking between the hard wooden floor and his fluffy bed which was also dressed in black. “How about we just share the bed San, that way no one has to be uncomfortable?”

You’re both adults… you can handle it, right?

“Um sure, yeah. He tries the cover back down onto the mattress as you close the door behind you. “If you’re comfortable.”

“I am, are you?”

“Yes.”, he confirms, then settling in as he sits up, waiting on you to join in.

“Good.”

“Good.”

You make your way in and San turns off his nightlight to finally get some rest, the both of you turning in the opposite of ways.

Unexpectedly though, you both turn opposite again at the same time, and your lips become magnetic in an inevitable connection.

You both pull away on your last breaths, gazing into the other's eyes, and pulling your bodies closer.

“Can I tell you something?”, you both whisper at the same time.

“You first.”, you both say again.

San takes the initiative to start before you this time, hovering his hand above your cheek in which you take hold of as soon as the opportunity presents itself. “I’ve been waiting to do that since high school.”

“Me too”, you confess. “I think…no- I know I like you.”

His eyes brighten and he begins caressing your soft flesh. “Same here.” In seconds you begin kissing again, never ending until before you take each other's breaths away.

It actually began to escalate into something more afterward. You both felt like you had to continue touching the other in one way or more.

San began to pull the plug as he stopped himself from pulling your shirt over your head. “I uh… we don’t have to-”

You immediately silence him with a kiss, pulling the remainder of your shirt that was left on your body yourself. “I want to with you, please.”

“Why would i ever say no to you?” San moves over on top of you, trying to get to know your body more from its every angle. “Where do you want me?”, he asks, mainly because he’s unsure where to start himself.

“Anywhere and everywhere, please?” Your reach up to touch a long strand of pink behind his hair and smooth your fingers along his jawline.

“Anything for you my sweet.”

He then makes the move to firstly bend down and kiss you on the head, making his way down directly to where your pleasure erects.

“Wait!”, you whisper above what was considered normal, startling San you come to a complete halt. “Glasses.”

He scoffs and climbs his way back up to your face. “Don’t tell me you have a kink for glasses.”

“Only when you put them on”, you sensually remark. “It makes you look even more delectable.”

“Is that so?”, he devilishly grins, “Hand them over here then.”

He slides on glasses as he looks deep into your eyes. Embodying the nature of a DILF like no other, perhaps that’s another kink you only have with him.

San moves downward again to your sex, pursuing straight into action. With the skills of his lips and tongue, her was able to suck, twirl, and eat every bit right out of you until his glasses are smeared with your cum, and your legs are quivering in instability.

“So it’s true”, you mumble, sucking back in every breath you give out. “…nerdy boys do give the best head. I wonder if the big dick part is true or not.”, you grin, letting your sex drive take wheel off every previous challenge.

San lets up and pulls onto the string that flatters his waist, pulling the down as the fabric loosens and stretches. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

His shirt selfishly covers him with he reveals himself to you, sticking up hard underneath black cotton. But he reads your desperate expression and relieves your mind, taking his shirt off to sire him all to you.

“Holy fuck.”

San leans down to your ear and lightly kisses its outer shell, while the tip of his meaty cock taps on your abdomen.

“What do you think my love? Are the rumors true?”

He pulls apart from you and you follow the front of his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “I think they underestimated you.”

“Good answer, you’re not as dumb of a bunny as I’d thought you’d be.”

Your breath hitches from the ticklish feeling your body shivers from in hindsight. “B-b-bunny?”

“That’s right baby, that’s what I’ll call you, my little cock hopper.” San flips you over to leave you the role of being top, and yet he takes the lead by plunging his dick right into your sweet spot.

“Oh my- fuck!” Your eyes flutter as your mouth gapes open wide, gripping on his sheets and printing your claws.

He wastes no time to push in and out of you. Your beauty has driven him to insanity. But your noises and cuteness brought him over the very edge.

“Bunny do you know? unghhhh- how many times I- gosh- got a hard on in class and had to go to the bathroom- shit- because of you?”

“No, I’m sorry”, you whine. “Did you ever-fuck- do it? Rub it off?”

He growls at your inquiry, thrusting in hard and much deeper than before, forcing you to jerk forward. “Did I?”, he laughs darkly, “Why do you think I was nowhere to be found every lunch period? You think I was eating on the floor-arghhh-somewhere?”

“I would’ve assumed so but..if you needed my help Sannie, then you could’ve just asked y’know?”

“You would’ve did that for me Bunny?”, he whimpers, reaching up to caress your unattended skin.

“I would’ve Sannie. That cafeteria food was nothing to miss out on anyhow.”

The both of you laugh from the recall of freezer burnt fries and overcooked pizza.

“Fuck, bunny. I wished I would’ve talk to you sooner.”

“We can make up for lost time, Sannie.”

“Have you ever thought about us being together? He starts to thrust slower, eager to hear your thoughts. Like… in a relationship?”

“I always have too”, you conquer. Even now.”

He almost comes to full-stop, gazing up at you with furrowed brows and lost eyes. “Will you be mine then Y/n, please?”

For the first time tonight, you show your teeth with a wide smile. “With pleasure.”

The two of you meet halfway in a warm kiss. San starts to pick up his pace again, faster and harder, plunging into your hole as he holds onto your neck so you can never let go.

Your releases and his collide together like a shockwave, leaving you both to just collapse on one another and breathless.

“You’re mine now, no take back-sees, he teases, kissing your red-hot flustered cheek.

“I’ve waited this long Sannie”, you say lifting your upper body to smooth wet hair from his forehead to uncover the handsomeness that is his precious face. “As if I would ever.”

…

In his bed you lie peaceful and calm, deblocking the things you wish you would’ve done with the beautiful things you have.

It made you come up with the idea as you tap on San’s muscle-tight arm to be released from your waist, to which he whined and babbled about.

You bend down to retrieve your clothes that was left discarded at his bedside to fish into your pockets.

You pulled out the pink tube and applied it to your lips, then went into San’s front blazer pocket to find his Polaroid.

San has watched you carefully from the lipstick to the point where you kissed his picture. One on the cheek, the other, on his neck.

“Is that a decoration for my Polaroid?”

“One of them, I’m not done yet”, you giggle.

You began to write, ‘SO HOT’ and ‘call me!’ with your new phone number attached. Around the border, you added pink hearts to compliment his hair and complete the image.

“There, now it’s done.” He sits up as you tilt the picture in his direction. “What do you think?”

He grabs onto the square laminated photo, evaluating every design. “Nobody does it like you baby. It’s picture perfect.”

…

The night continued on with you giggling with San as you shared your embarrassing crush stories with each other, contemplating why the hell you both didn’t say anything sooner.

* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚* ੈ✩‧₊˚ * ੈ✩‧₊˚*

A/N: This was so fun to create! I hope to post more stories soon! 💞

Much love,

xoxo

[mechaknight-98]

Dominant (NSFW) FT Haseul

Author’s note: Wanted to experiment a bit so I did a little something for @blanceverlast

"What do you mean I'm a surrogate baby?" I ask my parents.

"Well, JJ, you know we've had fertility issues, so we turned to surrogacy for help," my mom explains, but I narrow my eyes, questioning why this revelation is only surfacing now.

"Well, your 'mom' would like to meet you," my mother adds.

"And what does she do?" I ask, puzzled.

The plane ride to South Korea overwhelmed me; I never imagined my "mom" would be so far away. Yet, surrogacy can originate from anywhere, I suppose. As I sit in the back of the plane, my seatmate approaches.

She wears a mask, yet there's an enchanting aura about her. Smiling (or at least I assume so, judging by her eyes), she sits beside me. The plane takes off, and we sit in silence. Despite my efforts to stay awake, exhaustion eventually overtakes me, and I drift off to sleep.

Upon awakening, I feel a lightweight on my shoulders. I crane my neck to see my seatmate. Her mask has slipped down, revealing her face. As our eyes meet, arousal floods through me.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," she says, smiling.

Enraptured by her beauty, I stumble over my response. "I'd love it if you bothered me. Wait, no... you're no bother."

She smiles and sits up across from me. "Call me Haseul," she says with a pleasant voice. I smile back, extending my hand for her to shake.

"JJ charmed to meet you," I reply. Haseul takes my hand happily.

"So, what brings you to Korea?" she inquires.

I hesitate, searching for an appropriate response. "Um, my surrogate wanted to meet me," I reply. Haseul looks at me, puzzled, before smiling.

"Okay," she says before taking out her tablet. I glance over her shoulder, and she catches me.

"Do you like Kaiju research?" she teases, having caught me off guard. Surprisingly, I enthusiastically replied yes. Haseul's eyes flicker with interest.

"Oh? Then look this over and tell me what you see," she says confidently, handing me the tablet. I study the notes and diagrams, absorbing the information.

"This is a new species of Kaiju," I declare.

Haseul looks surprised. "Wait, how did you deduce all of that from my research?"

"Well, the DNA sequence at the 8th and 24th helix links is wholly different from any other Kaiju in the same family. Plus, if you examine the dorsal plates aligning with the spine, there's an unusual vein structure depicted in them," I explain.

Haseul's eyes widen in astonishment. "How did you notice all of that?"

"I like Kaiju," I admit.

Haseul looks impressed and asks me to go over all the research she just completed. Over the next several hours, we fill the time pouring over her findings. By the end of the flight, we've barely scratched the surface of this new Kaiju she accidentally discovered.

"Shit, we need more time. Hey, when you're done visiting your 'surrogate,' come to this lab," Haseul says as we pack up. She hands me a business card and her personal cell number. As we prepare to go our separate ways upon landing, I notice a dark-skinned woman who sees me and says, "James?" I look at her before Haseul pops up behind me.

"Yuma, you know JJ?" Haseul asks.

"Yes, he's my son," Yuma replies in English before saying something else in Korean that I don't understand.

Haseul's eyes widened as she smiled knowingly. The two women led me to a van, and we all piled in. Yuma remained silent for a while before speaking up, "You're probably hungry, James. Are you in the mood for anything?" she asked hopefully.

I nodded, replying, "Teriyaki Chicken sounds great about now." Haseul burst into laughter, causing Yuma and me to turn to her.

"What's so funny?" I asked. Haseul responded between chuckles, "You really are Yuma’s son. She loves teriyaki chicken as well," teasing with a cheeky smile. I shrugged, and Haseul's smile softened into an unfamiliar emotion. I chuckle as we get the food to go before piling back in the car.

We arrived at the laboratory, and Yuma took me aside to her office. "You’re probably wondering why I brought you here, why I did all of this," she said with a crooked smile similar to mine.

"Well, I just wanted to meet you and talk to you," she explained.

"I carried you to pay for my doctorate in Kaiju studies. I read field books to you while you were in my tummy, watching marathons of Godzilla, and Gamera movies while I studied just to stay awake, and feel you kick. It made me reconsider numerous times if I should give you up, but I was in no space to take care of a child. So I buried my growing feelings and went to term, but recently I have been feeling this gnawing emptiness. Against my better judgment, I reached out to your parents to meet you. I just wanted to hold my baby boy one more time," she said, hugging me tightly.

"A baby boy who's not so baby anymore,"

Yuma said, and I chuckled at her observation. A feeling of safety washed over me, and tears poured from my eyes. Before any other words could be said, a voice interrupted us. A big, burly man entered the room and said, "Excuse me, Yuma, you are needed." My "mom" broke the hug and smiled at me.

As I waited in the office, the door opened, and Haseul popped in. "Oh, great, you're here. Can I get your help with something?" she asked with a mischievous smile. I hesitated but couldn't resist her, so I nodded.

"Good boy," she purred, and I felt a strange sensation as she kissed me. Haseul broke the kiss and smiled. "Good, now you're nice and dumb. I need your help looking over a few charts for me, and I need you not to overthink," she said with authority. My mind was left in a hazy fog as she led me into the room.

I put my headphones in as Haseul sat at her desk and asked me to go over and aggregate some data charts. She handed me a laptop and an Excel sheet, and I diligently compiled and aggregated the numbers she'd asked for, going above and beyond by conducting a qualitative analysis of Kaiju markings and identifying outliers and notable specimens. When my "mom" came to look for me, I'd finished a substantial amount of work.

"Oh, JJ, there you are," she said as she entered the office. I looked up and nodded. She walked over and examined what I was doing, furrowing her brows before turning to Haseul, who was deeply engrossed in her work. A smile crept onto my lips as I watched her. My mom noticed and smirked before addressing Haseul, "Um, excuse me, but I think my son has helped you do half your work."

Haseul looked up at my mom and quickly apologized, "Oh, Mrs. Yuma, I'm so sorry, but JJ has been so helpful."

"I can see that. His notes on your compilation have been extensive," my mom teased. Haseul turned red but quickly pressed on, "It's not just that; he has an almost ocean-deep knowledge of Kaiju."

I shrugged, "I just like them," I responded. Haseul smiled, and I felt that strange sensation again, but this time, it was more intense. My mom noticed and smirked as we headed back to her place. On the way back, she asked me a question I 100% expected.

"Do you like Haseul?" I nodded, and my mom smirked, "Be careful with her," was her only warning. Sadly (but not really), I didn't heed it.

Haseul’s claws (she's a Red Panda Kaijin) were comforting and sexy even before she wrapped them around my throat. She started small with pet names like my puppy or Handsome. Then came some light flirty glances and touches. That's what sealed the deal I was hers. Her little pup to mold and shape how she saw fit. 

This all culminated in the day before I left. I helped her and my mom finish something and Haseul said, “Oh my little pup so dumb but eager to please,” my brain broke and I responded (thankfully my mom wasn't there to hear this)

“Oh please fuck me dumb. Mark me and claim me as yours Haseul,” Haseul smirked at me. Her eyes narrowed as her scent filled my nostrils leaving me lightheaded and aroused. She slipped over to me and sat on my lap. Her voice took on a Saccharine and lurid pitch as she spoke, 

“Oh my needy pup, what makes you think you deserve my touch,” she coos and I moan which turns her smirk into a wicked smile. If it wasn't clear to her before it was now. I am her little pup. I'm only hers to play with and manipulate as she sees fit. One hand palms my hardening cock and the other wraps itself around my throat. She smiles maliciously as my breath hitches and her control over me becomes absolute. She extends her talons enough to draw blood but my horny head only draws a euphoric pleasure from the sensation.

“I could rip your throat out and you'd ask me if you were a good little pet?” she said which elicited another moan from me, “Oh dumb pup I'm going to have fun training you.” Haseul gloated, as she began to stroke my rod.

As she did she licked my blood off of her talons the lurid sight drove me to new heights. After she licked the blood off her talons she licked my neck where she pierced me. I felt the wounds begin to heal as she eyed me with a ravenous hunger before telling me, open your mouth for me pup, and stick your tongue out.” I follow her command and she sucks my tongue while it's out before inching closer until our lips touch and devours me in a kiss. I resign myself to being her prey, she smiles viciously and then abruptly stops. My body jolts at her with a drawl of touch. 

“Later my puppy. I don't want you to make a mess,” Haseul replies. I groan and get up trying to relax and take my mind off of her touch

Before I could walk off Haseul said, “No stay!” I returned to her as she commanded. She smiles. “I trained you so well. What a good boy.” Haseul says with her most proud and soothing tone.

“Sit” Haseul commands and I do. She revels in her power over me. I'm just so happy to see her happy. 

“So here is how it's going to go puppy. I am going to not touch you for the rest of the day but when we get off meet me at my apartment and we will finish what we started,” Haseul said seductively. I nod and she smiles. We get back to work and she says, “Good boy,” 

After I finish my “work” my mom has to stay late and leaves in the care of Haseul. Before I leave my mom gives me a rather large sum of won and says “Treat Haseul well tonight.” I nod and we drive off. I ride with Haseul and ask

“You hungry,” Haseul nods and we decide to head to a nearby restaurant. It's a pizza joint. We get in and I sit with Haseul. I'm nervous as this is a very different level type of intimacy that we haven't shared before. I swallow my nerves and go for the safest compliment I could think of. “Your glasses are great really show off how your eyes are dazzling,” I say. Haseul beams with a shy smile. “Oh, so that's the way to turn the tables,” I tease. Haseul narrows her eyes. 

“Careful pup. I can take you to heaven tonight or leave you in purgatory,” Haseul says bitingly. I smile 

“What so funny?” Haseul asks accusingly. 

“Haseul I'm not trying to do anything funny I just really like you and no it's not just because of all “claiming” you've done. You're witty, compassionate, and gorgeous. Plus you like all the dumb stuff I like. Why would I upset you,” I reply Haseul blushes intensely before our food arrives. We eat in relative silence but Haseul makes sure I'm full and hydrated. She reasons that she wants her puppy to be ready for his walk. We entered her apartment and she excused herself to her bedroom before calling for my help.

And now you're all caught up

“So my pretty Firebear, what would you like to do first,” I ask. Haseul smiles

“Ooh, I like that,” Haseul coos, and our lips meet. 

We break out first kiss and she smiles before pouncing on me. She rips open my pants and shirt before saying, “Be a good little puppy, and let me ride you,” 

 

Haseul takes me inside her and my mind goes blank. She’s so tight. I try to formulate words but she starts to grind her crotch against mine. She leans in closer and says, “Oh my little puppy isn't so little,” I moan at her expert control over my body. Her touch is delicate but powerful. I watch as she sets her hands down and uses me as a tool for her pleasure. 

“How is it,” I ask eagerly to see if I can grant her higher satisfaction Haseul moans out 

“Oh God Puppy you fill me up so well,” I smile seeing Haseul lose herself to the pleasure. Her folds are soft and giving but viciously tight causing the friction between us to become so intense that I can't help but moan out as my mind turns into further slurry. 

Watching me devolve seems to excite Haseul more as she gets tighter.

“Is my needy little puppy gonna cum,” she asks I groan and she laughs, “Come on puppy. Use your words.” 

Haggard, I rasped out (in English ), “fuck take me. claim me as yours!” Haseul smiled 

“Oh I like it when you lose control and your native tongue comes out,” she coos. My cock swells within her as her pussy tightens around me. 

“That's right my little dumb slut to be used and abused,” Haseul said before wrapping her hand around my throat my breathing hitched as the terror and pleasure mixed. I couldn't think straight and just fed into her degradation of me, 

“Yes, I'm your slutty puppy. I'm only good for my cock which doesn’t deserve to cum,” I watch as Haseul's eyes widen at my words. she smiles,

"Yes You're my puppy who only cums when I want him to and you've been such a good puppy," she says moaning as I can feel her near her release. "Now Puppy cum with me," Haseul says while moaning. I groan as her words and her pussy push me to release. we cum together and Haseul Smiles.

"Good puppy," she coos, as we pass out

[sturniolo-simp4life]

Can u do a Matt smut fic where reader and matt r out and matt gets a good idea to go to the car wash bc the car is dirty. And when y'all in the car wash u fuck (idk if that makes sense)

I love ur writing sm 😭😭💖

Car Wash- Matt Sturniolo 

Paring- y/n and Matt Sturniolo 

Warnings- Smut, semi-public (?), cursing, quickie, p in v, unprotected (don’t please, imagine you're on the pill or smth), female!recieving, slight nipple play, riding, slight fingering.  NOT PROOF READ.

Description- After a long day out, Matt decides to go to a car wash, hoping for something more. 

@lightningsturvn here you are my love!

After a week of recording and editing, Matt took y/n out for a stress reliever day. They went to the beach, walked along the shoreline, and even went swimming.  

Unfortunately for Matt, all he could think of was y/n in that tight little bikini, wanting to rip it off and fuck her brains out.  

Moving on from Matt, there were a lot of seagulls at the beach today.

Seagulls=poop. Poop=Car. Car=Matt’s Car.

“Well, it looks like my car is covered in bird shit.” Mat grumbled as the two of you stepped in, earning a giggle from you. “Babe, its fine. We can just stop at the car wash on the way home.” 

Now obviously, Matt was horny. The beach dress wasn’t doing a good job of covering up your body.

He could see your pecks straining against the thin bikini fabric, and that was enough to turn him on. He could already feel his cock throbbing against his shorts. 

Thats when the idea popped into his head. The car washes around your area were old, making the machines slower.

An average car wash was 5 minutes, but these ones were 10. A perfect opportunity for some relief. 

“Can you do the tropical wash? Please?” you asked Matt, batting your eyelashes. You knew he hated it, but you loved it.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But you’re going to pay me back,” he said with a devious smirk, as his hand made its way to your thigh. 

You found yourself getting flustered by Matt’s words, your face visible red. Flustered enough to make your bikini bottoms wet.

Fuck. His hand was sensually rubbing your thighs as he paid for the wash. 

As soon as drove the car onto the platform, his finger grazed your clit, a small moan escaping your mouth. 

Somehow, both of you ended up in the backseat. 

Matt smashed his lips on yours and slipped his hands down to your waist.

He started leaving wet kisses around your neck a collarbone, removing your beach dress.

He then started kissing down your chest, until he ripped your bikini top off. 

“I’ve been waiting to do that all day.” His tongue made it to one of your pecks, while his hand made its way to the other. “Fuck matt.”

He moved his tongue in fast, circular motions on your hardened peck, while his finger played with the other. “Be a good girl, and let's make this quick, okay.”  

You moaned. “M-Matt.” He looked at you. “Hmm?” 

“I need you.” He smirked at you. “What do you need baby? You have to be more specific.”  

“Your fingers.” You gasped. “I need your fingers.”  

“Okay baby. Wasn’t so hard, was it?” He inserted a finger into your aching hole, then two.

“Oh my god,” you gasped. He slowly started pumping his fingers in and out of you. “F-Fuck Matt. faster.”  

You could feel your orgasm building on you. It must have shown on your face, because he then slipped his fingers out.

You whined. “I was just about to finish,” you pout. 

“Don’t worry. Your about to get something better.” He slipped off his cargo shorts and his boxers, revealing his straining erection.

It looked so hard it must have hurt.  

Even though you’d seen Matt’s dick before, it always surprised you how big he was.

The thought of him filling your aching cunt was enough to make you wet again.

He then sat against one of the doors, his legs on the seats. 

“I want you to ride me baby.” You had done it before, but it wasn’t one of your most experienced positions. “O-okay,” you gulped.  

You got on top of him and aligned yourself. Slowly and steadily, you lowered yourself on him, earning a grunt from him and a hiss from you.

“Fuck,” you mumbled under your breath. It took you a minute to adjust to his size, but when you started moving, the slight pain was replaced with pleasure.

“Oh fuck. Matt,” you moaned, as you bounced up and down. His hands were on your hips, guiding you.

“Oh my god Matt. Oh my god.” You moved slightly faster, making you moan with pleasure.  

You could feel your legs starting to give out, making your movements slow down slightly.

Of course, Matt noticed, because he grabbed your ass and starting thrusting into you.

That was enough to get your momentum up again. You grabbed his shoulders and lowered your head into the crook of his neck. “Fuck Matt, I'm gonna cum.”  

Your moans were turning into breathy whines. “M’gonna cum too. Fuck. Do it with me baby.”

You let out a moan as your orgasm came, Matt still slight thrusting, and finishing after you.

You could see the sweat on his forehead, making his hair stick to it.

“You did so good for me baby,” matt whispered in your ear, then going to kiss you. 

Thankfully, the car wash was slowly ending. “Shit. I forgot about the car wash.” You quickly changed into your clothes, a wave of tiredness slowly crashing upon you. 

Matt was already in the driver's seat, driving up to the air-drying system. “Matt,” you mumbled, your eyes fighting for wake.

“What is it baby?” He turned back to face you. “I’m gonna take a nap,” you said in a drowsy voice. “Can we cuddle when we get home?” 

He smiled at you softly. “Of course we can babe.” He reached his hand out to swipe some hair out of your face.

“Love you,” you mumbled. “Love you too,” was the last thing you heard before you drifted off to sleep. 

[coochiequeens]

Doctors and nurses who are not willing to listen to their patients should be replaced

BY VICTORIA SMITH

The third time I went into labour, I was determined to avoid getting told off. With both of my previous births, I had somehow managed to get things wrong. My errors the first time: going to hospital too early, then, when I returned three hours later, “leaving it so late”. The second time: ignoring assurances that I didn’t need to come in yet, then giving birth in the car park — an event I later discovered was being used in antenatal classes as an example of women “not planning ahead”.

“My previous births have been fast,” I said, when I went into labour with my third, “so I’d like to come in now.” I was speaking to the woman at the midwife-led unit that is the only option where I live. (If you need a caesarean section, you have to be transferred to next town.) “Third babies are notoriously difficult,” was her response.

What an odd thing to say to a woman already in labour. The “notoriously” suggested it wasn’t based on any actual evidence, but rather a kind of folk wisdom. It felt as though I was being warned not to tempt fate, not to assume that this baby would just pop out. I saw myself being categorised as one of those arrogant women who presumes to know her own body, only to be taught a harsh yet much-deserved lesson. “Third babies are notoriously difficult” sounded not unlike “third-time mothers shouldn’t get above themselves”.

In fact, I have never been particularly cocky about childbirth. When I was pregnant with my first child, back in the days when the Right-wing press were still obsessed with famous women being “too posh to push”, I wondered if I might be able to get an elective caesarean myself. I did not particularly care about childbirth being a wonderful experience, or about “doing it well”. I didn’t care if the Daily Mail thought I was a joke.

What I cared about was not having a child who would face the same difficulties as my brother, who was starved of oxygen at birth. This has had serious consequences for him, and for the rest of my family. Just how serious is hard to gauge. He was born traumatised; there has never been a before to compare the after with. What there has been instead is the hazy outline of an alternative life, one that runs parallel to the one he has now. It’s a life that began with the problem being identified sooner, with him being delivered quickly, perhaps by emergency caesarean. The difference between this and his actual life comes down to something small: mere moments, mere breaths.

I was born three years after my brother, in a larger hospital, where my mother was induced and monitored carefully. There is something very strange about being the sibling who had the safe birth. It feels as though I stole it. There is a constant sense of guilt, as if my life — my independence, my choices — constitutes a form of gloating. “This is what you could have had.” Everything I do feels like something owed to my brother (do it, because he can’t) but also something taken from him (you shouldn’t have done that, because he should have done it first).

Still, my family were fortunate, insofar as my brother didn’t die. Current reports on the Nottingham maternity scandal reference 1,700 cases, with an estimated 201 mothers and babies who might have survived had they received better care. What strikes me, reading them, is the enormous gulf between the cost of a disastrous birth and the trivial, opportunistic way in which childbirth is so often politicised — with mothers themselves viewed as morally, if not practically, to blame if anything goes wrong.

As a feminist who concerns herself with how the female body is demonised, my interest in debates about birthing choices is more than personal. I have read books railing against the over-medicalisation of childbirth, aligning it with a patriarchal need to appropriate female reproductive power. I have also read books protesting the fetishisation of “natural” birth, suggesting that it infantilises women, that it implies women deserve pain. To be honest, I find both arguments persuasive and dismaying. Both are right about the way in which misogyny and professional arrogance can shift the focus away from meeting the needs of women and babies. I feel a kind of rage that we are told to pick a side.

Representations of the labouring woman are so often negative: the naïve idealist, the “birthzilla“, the birth-plan obsessive, the woman who is “too posh to push”. This latter stereotype has gone hand-in-hand with a veneration of vaginal births, and stigmatisation of caesareans, that has had sometimes disastrous consequences. Midwives at the centre of the Furness General Hospital scandal were reported to have “pursued natural birth ‘at any cost’”, referring to one another as “the musketeers”; at least 11 babies and one mother died. But their approach was sanctioned by their employer: the 2006 NHS document “Pathways to Success: a self-improvement toolkit” explicitly suggested that “maternity units applying best practice to the management of pregnancy, labour and birth will achieve a [caesarean section] rate consistently below 20% and will have aspirations to reduce that rate to 15%”. Proposed benefits to this included “a sense of pride in units”.

Responses to maternity scandals now express horror that such an anti-intervention culture ever arose — responses in the same press that denigrated women such as Victoria Beckham and Kate Winslet for not giving birth vaginally. Instead, newspapers now stoke outrage over “natural” treatments during NHS births, such as burning herbs. Women have been shamed for having caesareans, but they have also been shamed for wanting births with minimum intervention — as though they are selfish and spoilt for seeking control over such an extreme situation.

In his memoir This Is Going To Hurt, former doctor Adam Kay writes disparagingly of women who arrive at the delivery suite with birth plans:

“‘Having a birth plan’ always strikes me as akin to having a ‘what I want the weather to be’ plan or a ‘winning the lottery’ plan. Two centuries of obstetricians have found no way of predicting the course of a labour, but a certain denomination of floaty-dressed mother seems to think she can manage it easily.”

Wanting to have some control over your experience of labour — which will hurt you and could kill you or your baby — is not akin to some messianic aspiration to control the weather. And in his mockery of the woman who wants whale song and aromatherapy oils, ironically, Kay deploys the same silencing techniques that might intimidate a woman out of seeking the very interventions he so prizes. What he and others do not seem to grasp is that their arrogance is a problem, regardless of which course of action they champion. It makes women feel they can’t speak, for fear of inviting hostility at their most vulnerable moments. It’s true that none of us knows our body well enough to know how we will give birth. But, looking back, I find it utterly insane, not least given my own family history, that one of my biggest worries during labour was “please don’t let anyone get cross with me”. Then again, I don’t think that fear is unrelated to the desire to remain safe.

Birth is not a joke. It is not a place for professional dick-swinging or political one-upmanship. I cannot describe — and, as I am not my mother, cannot fully understand — the shame of feeling that you “let down” your child before they drew their first breath, that they will forever suffer because of it. You watch an entire life unfolding and that feeling is there, every single day. This is the fear of the women in labour who are characterised as either idiots mesmerised by fantasy homebirths or cold-hearted posh ladies who can’t take the pain. If things go wrong, they are the ones who will bear the consequences, reflecting every day on what might have been, if they’d only done more.

When people discuss their siblings, my mind does wander to the one I don’t have, the one who was born safely. Perhaps he would have a job he loved, or one he hated, but in any case a job. Perhaps he would have a partner. Perhaps he would have children, and I would be their aunt. Perhaps we wouldn’t get on, wouldn’t even speak, but he’d have a life of his own. I know he thinks about this too. I wonder if the professionals who presided over his birth have thought about him since.

My third labour was not, by the way, “notoriously difficult”. My third son arrived into the world safe and well. No one can say why him or me, and not my brother. Mothers may long for control over birth, for which we are mocked; but we do not have it, for which we are blamed. Politics still takes precedence over our needs, and the needs of our babies.

[whoreanghae]

wedding ; jeon wonwoo

genre - fake relationship, friends to lovers, kinda slow burn

wordcount - 8.6k

disclaimers - lowercase on purpose, no proofreading, fic under the cut, female/feminine aligned reader, mentions of alcohol and being drunk

a/n - this one has been in the works for a loooong time, finally got the energy to finish it! hope you enjoy, i put a lot of work into this one. happy holidays! <3

you put down your phone with a sigh. your mother had just given you a call to let you know that one of your cousins was getting married in a month, and your mother wanted to let you know the plan for their wedding early on so you could get started on planning your trip back to your hometown. she gave you dates and dressing codes, and other wedding things that blended together into one blur in your head as you mindlessly responded to your mothers queries and requests. 

one of the things she brushed over was the fact that you had to bring a date for the entire wedding. the ceremony, the dinner, the dance, you always had to have someone on your arm. it was a rule that your cousin was apparently very adamant about. in the blur of questions from your mother, you had accidently answered a question that you should have saved for a later time, when you hadn’t been just getting home from a 2 hour long exam.

“so, y/n, you do have a date right?”

“yes, i do.”

your mother gasped, bringing herself to a conclusion that you had not written. “my baby has a boyfriend? oh, how sweet!” her coos were quickly pushed aside when you heard a door creak open on her end of the line, followed by your fathers voice asking her if she was ready for dinner. your mother quickly said goodbye as you pressed the red ‘end call’ button, and the reality of the belief your mother was under finally pieced together in your head.

your family are expecting you to show up at a family gathering with a boyfriend you do not have.

you leaned forward, elbows digging into your knees as you tangled your hands in your hair. every thought of how you could fix this raced through your head at once, but every solution made less sense than the last. in the end, you came to the conclusion that you would have to find someone willing to be your boyfriend for a weekend, which is a statement that is easier said than done. 

- 

laughter echoed around the room as you sat on the sofa of hoshi’s apartment with your head in your hands. while you thought the entire situation was simply traumatic, everyone else thought it was hilarious. some of them had pity, but even the sympathetic ones were stifling their laughter as they comforted you. 

you couldnt help but laugh along at the absurdity of the entire thing. it was really something that could only happen to you. 

“guys, i seriously have no idea what to do! its not like i can just rent a boyfriend for a couple days!” dokyeom was holding onto mingyus arm as he laughed so hard he was out of breath. joshua faked a serious face as he looked towards you. “thats not true, im sure you could rent hoshi for the right price.” 

you sighed a dramatic, exasperated sigh as you flopped back onto hoshis sofa, staring at the ceiling as you laughed. the laughter fizzled out and everyone realized it was getting late. 

“i should probably get going and try to find a desperate guy who would free up a weekend to go to my cousins wedding with me.” you laughed as you stood up, brushing your hair back behind you. wonwoo stood up with you. “y/n, i could give you a ride home, since its the same building anyways.” you smiled and nodded towards him as you said goodbye to everyone and followed wonwoo to his car. 

the ride back to your apartment building was quiet, with the low radio being the only sound filling the car. car rides with wonwoo always had a peaceful silence, never awkward. it was comfortable. 

you thought over the sentence a thousand and one times in your head before you finally broke the silence. “uh, wonwoo.. can i ask you, um, a big favour?” you looked down at your hands before looking over at the man next to you, a grin now plastered across his face as he glanced in your direction. “i wonder what this could be?” he said, followed by a chuckle. your ears turned pink as you fiddled with your fingers in your lap, a smile wide on your face to match his.

you took a deep breath before finally asking, “wonwoo, could you be my date to my cousins wedding?” you smiled over at him from the passenger seat, trying your best to look convincing enough for him to say yes. all things considered, something must have worked. “of course i will, it’d be an honour to be your boyfriend for a couple days.” the pink flush on your ears travelled all across your face as you smiled ear to ear. he parked at your apartment complex as you leaned over and wrapped your arms around his neck. “thank you so so so much wonwoo!” he laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist and lightly squeezing as you pulled away and opened the car door. “ill send you all the details when i know all the details,” you told wonwoo as you walked into your apartment building together. he nodded as he pressed the button for the elevator. “hopefully ill be able to impress your family.” you and wonwoo smiled at each other as the elevator door beeped open and you stepped inside. 

-

you sat at your dinner table, a notepad and pen sitting in front of you. your mother had just called and informed you of all the details of the wedding, and you decided that it would make your life easier if you wrote down everything she said this time. she gave you details on where everyone would stay, the timeline of events, and every little thing in between. the phone call had lasted for at least 20 minutes. you had always said, your mother was nothing if not thorough. after overlooking the list in front of you, you picked up your phone and typed a text.

y/n : hey, are u busy rn?

wonu 🐱 : I’m at practice, is everything ok?

y/n : oh yeah its fine, its just stuff about the wedding. call me when you get home :)

wonu 🐱 : Will do. :)

while you waited for wonwoo to finish practice, you absentmindedly scrolled on your phone. as you did, you saw countless pictures of people from your hometown posting pictures with their significant others. you liked their pictures and kept scrolling, but the photos made you feel.. off. since you had moved away from your hometown, you hadnt had any relationships. you had met people, but nothing ever amounted to anything more than a coffee date or a study session at your campus library. you were just always so busy with school and spending time with the boys that you had simply never sought out a relationship in your years of living away from your family. while you were content with your independence, seeing photos of couples happy and in love made you feel left out. not envy, just a feeling of ‘i would be happy with what they have’. 

since starting university, romance has been on your back burner to say the least. you had barely considered your own feelings between exams and essays. maybe this was why every time your friends caught someone checking you out, or blatantly flirting with you, your response was always “really? i didnt notice.” your group of friends from university had always been suspicious of your relationship with the 13 men you spend most of your freetime with. they were convinced that if you did end up having a secret relationship, it would be with one of them. you shut down the accusations every time, insistent that they were just friends. and thats all they were. just friends.

breaking you out of your mindless scrolling, your phone rang. you shook out of your daze as you accepted the call. “hey! how was practice?” wonwoo groaned dramatically. “you dont even understaaaand!” you laughed and shook your head at his complaining. “but im sure ill make it. alright, whats the deal with the wedding?” he said, leaving his dramatics behind. “yes! okay, so there is one major difference than what i was told.. it will be a whole week, not just the weekend. if you cant make it its fine i understa-” wonwoo cut you off. “oh thats okay! i dont mind.” you paused in shock. “you dont mind? like you dont mind being a fake couple for a week?” you had expected him to back out, not because he was unreliable, but because it was a big thing to agree to. but, wonwoo insisted. “im serious! id be happy to, itd be nice to get out of this place for a bit and spend time with your family.” lots of people saw wonwoo as being a cold person, but anyone who knows him knows hes a huge softie. you were overjoyed at wonwoos willingness to do this for you. 

you went on to explain everything to wonwoo, as he listened attentively and was eager to help you and your family in any way he was able to. the wedding was on a thursday afternoon in the middle of june. your mother wanted you to come home a couple days before the wedding, so you decided that you would get there on the sunday before the wedding, and leave the day after the wedding. wonwoo agreed and said he could even drive (as long as you gave him directions). you had thought you had everything all in order, but wonwoo piped up with something you havent even considered up until this point.

“wait, so what about our fake relationship? we need details to make it believable.” wonwoo really was an actor at heart. until now, you had entirely forgotten that you would actually need to seem like a couple in order to be perceived as a couple. “yeah youre right, what kind of things would we have to detail though?” you both thought about the bare minimum for a second, before deciding the things you would decide on beforehand and the things you could just make up on the spot if necessary. “alright, i think we should figure out how we met and how long we’ve been together. those are the stereotypical new couple questions.” wonwoo sounded like he knew what he was talking about, so you just went along with it. “how about, we met when i was working at that convenience store on the corner, and we’ve been together… 6 months?” you were completely pulling this out of thin air, but wonwoo hummed in agreeance on the other end of the phone call. “convenience store, 6 months. sounds believable to me.” 

with everything clarified about your cousins wedding, all there was left to do was wait. well, besides finding something to wear, and packing, and tying any lose ends in your schoolwork. but other than that it was a breeze. the month did seem to fly by. in no time, you were fitting your suitcase into the trunk of wonwoo’s car and leaving to make the drive to your hometown. along the way, wonwoo made sure to ask lots of questions about your family and childhood friends, and you told him lots of stories as well. as you pulled into the driveway of your family home, you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. the house hadnt changed a bit in the years you were away. 

as you and wonwoo got out of the car and began taking your luggage out, the front door of the house swung open and your mother rushed out, eager to see you after so long. she ran down the driveway in order to engulf you in a bear hug. you laughed as she squeezed you so hard you thought youd explode. your father stood in the doorway, arms crossed and a toothy grin across his face as he leaned against the doorframe. wonwoo shut the trunk of his car, and your mothers attention immediately switched to him. you laughed as he squeezed his cheeks and gave him an equally tight bear hug. 

“oh its so nice to meet you dear! what did you say your name was?” your mother had her hands firmly planted on wonwoos shoulders as she smiled up at him. wonwoos eyes were bright and happy. “im wonwoo, its lovely to meet you mrs l/n.” your mother cooed at wonwoo as she pulled him in for another hug. she admired you and wonwoo together, until the fire alarm started blaring from the kitchen, prompting her to run past your father and back into the house. wonwoo picked up the bags as the two of you followed your mother into the house, albeit less rushed than she was.

your father automatically took a liking to wonwoo, talking to him at the table as you helped your mother finish dinner. the sight of them laughing together and your father lightly hitting wonwoos shoulder with a smile was such a warm moment. the domesticity of it all made your heart swell. with the ding of a timer, you and your mother brought the dishes over to the table and laid them in front of wonwoo and your father. wonwoo looked at the table in awe. you made sure to tell him that your mother wasnt the best at making the right portions, which was evident by the mountains of food sitting in front of you. 

your mother took her seat next to your father, and you took the one across from her, on wonwoos right. he smiled at you as you sat down, and you smiled back, trying to ignore the pink flush you could feel hazing across your face. all the time you had known wonwoo, why was being around him making you feel this way now? you quickly pushed the thought aside as your mother began asking questions between bites. 

“so, how long have you two lovebirds been together?” she had a smirk on her face as she glanced between you and wonwoo. wonwoo spoke before you got the chance. “we’ve known each other for longer, but i officially asked her to be my girlfriend 6 months ago.” the fond look on his face as he said this would make anyone melt. if you hadn’t been a part of the ruse, you wouldve never questioned the love in his eyes. damn, hes a good actor. he gazed over at you as he finished his sentence. you smiled back at him before turning to your mother. “our 6 month anniversary was actually last week.” your mother held her hands to her chest as she congratulated you both. wonwoo held your hand on the table as your mother began telling a story about how your father had originally asked her to be his girlfriend. you didnt hear much of the story over your own heartbeat ringing in your ears. wonwoos hand was warm, and much bigger than yours. you had decided that wonwoo was simply too good at acting the boyfriend role. did he have some secret girlfriend none of you knew about? was he taking classes? you tried to act casual as he rubbed his thumb along the back of your hand. you knew you couldnt overthink anything that would happen over the next week. it was all just for the act, right? right.

dinner went by in a blur, and soon you were being led to the spare room your mother had cleaned out for you and wonwoo to share. you shivered as you walked in. it was cooler in this room than the rest of the house. it wasnt major, though, so you didnt say anything to your mother about it. she smiled as she disappeared down the hallway, leaving you and wonwoo in the bedroom, alone. as soon as your mother left, wonwoo flopped down onto the bed in the middle of the room. you looked at him and laughed. he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, even though the growing smile on his face as you stood over him with your hands on your hips gave him away. you shook your head as you walked to the other side of the room where wonwoo put your bags. you rumaged through your bag for a sweater. you dug through the bag, but you couldnt find the one hoodie you swear you packed. defeated, you sat on the floor next to your bag and pulled out every item of clothing and put it in your lap. no sweater. with a frustrated sigh, you scooped everything back into your bag and stood up. at this point, wonwoo had sat up, his arms supporting his weight as he watched you get up. 

“whats wrong?” he quirked an eyebrow. you gestured to your bag. “i forgot to pack a hoodie, i swear i did, but i mustve left it on my sofa.” wonwoo thought for a second before sitting up entirely. “here, take this.” he began taking off the hoodie he was wearing, and for a second, you couldnt take your eyes off of him. as he pulled the sweater over his head, the shirt he wore underneath rose with it, revealing his bare abs. you stood watching, mouth agape. everyone had said that wonwoo worked out a lot, but you had never seen the proof for yourself. you snapped out of it as he fixed his shirt and ran one hand through his hair, passing the sweater to you in the other. “oh wonwoo, its fine, i was just gonna ask my mom for one.” but, he wouldnt take no for an answer. he tilted his head to the side as he tossed the sweater in your direction. you caught it, and he smiled that gorgeous smile youve been seeing all day.

you pulled wonwoos hoodie over your head, and you were engulfed by the smell of his cologne. the scent overtook your senses as you situated yourself into the sweater. the warmth of the material mixed with wonwoos leftover body heat warmed you up instantly. so much that when you caught wonwoo staring at you wearing his hoodie, you didnt even feel the way your face instantly heated up as you sat on the bed next to him. he moved over to give you room to move further onto the bed, and suddenly the thought of being closer to wonwoo made your heart race. 

wonwoo sat on the bed, typing away on his phone as you slid onto the mattress next to him. you watched him, focused on the message he was sending. the black tshirt he had been wearing under his hoodie was tight enough that it hugged all the parts of his body in the right ways. the way the fabric draped across his chest, and was rolled up at the sleeves. as wonwoo put his phone down and looked in your direction, you were quick to look away and take your own phone out of your pocket. luckily, he didnt seem to notice your staring. wonwoo looked past you, towards the clock above your head. “is it really that late already?” you glanced up at the time on your phone screen. “11:30? yeah, i guess.” wonwoo raised his eyebrows in surprise and stood up, leaving you by yourself on the bed. he began rummaging through his bag before pulling out a pair of sweatpants and another tshirt. he left the room without a word, presumably to go to the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. you did the same, shutting the door and quickly getting changed before he came back into the bedroom. 

after getting changed, you lightly knocked on the bathroom door so you could brush your teeth. as you did, the door swung open and you were greeted by wonwoo with a toothbrush already hanging out of his mouth. you laughed to yourself as you walked past him in order to get to the sink. as you started brushing your teeth, you straightened your back and stood next to wonwoo in the mirror. not able to easily smile, you both did your best to smile at each other with your eyes through the vanity mirror. the two of you stood there in the mirror together, before wonwoo finished up and you followed behind him not long after. 

when you walked into the bedroom, you were greeted with wonwoo creating a sort of barrier in the middle of the bed made of decorative throw pillows that your mother had laid out on the bed for when you got there. you stood in the doorway, letting him finish whatever he was doing before you began to question him. hearing the door shut, he turned around, and gestured to the bed. “i thought itd make you feel more comfortable.” you smiled at the sentiment, but you hadnt really thought to this point yet. you completely forgot about the fact that you and wonwoo would be sharing a bed for the next week. while you or wonwoo could have just slept on the sofa, the facade that you were busy putting on was more important. so, pillow barrier it was. you shivered as you snuggled under the duvet that was on the bed, still feeling that same chill that you did when you first walked into the room earlier that day. “goodnight, y/n.” wonwoos voice came from behind you. “goodnight, wonwoo.” you smiled as you said it, and wonwoo clicked the switch for the lamp, enveloping you both in the darkness of the night.

warmth. when you woke up the next morning, the first thing you noticed was the sudden warmth that you felt, compared to the chill from the night before. at first, you equated it to the shine of the sun that was streaming in through the cracks of the blinds. but it was a different warmth. you opened your eyes, curious to find the answers to your questions. somehow, as soon as your eyes fluttered open, all of your questions were answered in one glance. on the floor next to the bed laid one of your mothers decorative pillows, the ones that should have been in the middle of the bed, and not on the floor next to the (obviously broken) space heater. as you started to fully wake up, you felt slow, light breaths on the back of your neck. you also felt the arms snaked around your waist, and the hands that lightly rested on the mattress in front of you. your mind went blank. what were you supposed to do? move and wake him up? leave it and pretend it didnt happen? in the moment, you decided to go with the latter. carefully stretching towards the nightstand on your side of the bed, you grabbed your phone and pulled your arm back to your body. wonwoo stirred slightly, but stayed asleep. the clock on your phone read 6:00am, so you felt no reason to wake him up already.

you had no idea at what point in the night this had happened, but some part of you wasnt mad it happened. wonwoos body heat was enough to keep you warm, and youd be lying if you didnt like the feeling of his arms wrapping around you as you slept. the almost silent snores coming from behind you had somehow lulled you back to sleep, as you woke up 20 minutes later with your phone on the bed next to your pillow. you also noticed how your back was suddenly no longer covered, sending a shiver down your spine. when you heard the footsteps approaching the bedroom, you decided to just pretend you were still asleep instead of facing the events of the night. the door creaked and shut, as you felt the bed dip back down behind you. you didnt say anything, but soon after you felt the same arm creep back around your waist and settle back onto its previous place on the mattress. wonwoo settled into place, as did you. 

the questions in your head did make some points. if wonwoo had accidentally started cuddling you at night, why would he return to the same position while awake? how would you address this? you just decided not to. the comfort of having him flush against your back overpowered the thoughts of wanting to stop it. you never wanted the morning to end, although you knew you obviously couldn’t stay in bed all day. it was still pretty early, so you just didn’t bother to worry about getting up just yet. your strategy of pretending to be asleep had been successful before. you closed your eyes as sun began to shine more brightly through the small opening in the curtains. maybe it was just your own, but as you felt yourself drift asleep again for the second time that morning, it was as if you could feel wonwoo’s own heartbeat against your back. 

you weren’t sure how long you had slept, but you felt a light push on your shoulder as you began to feel yourself wake up again. “hey, wake up. it’s 8:00.” your eyes slowly opened as you looked over at wonwoo sitting on the edge of the bed. his hair was messy, and flat on one side. you smiled at the sight in front of you, as he scrunched his nose and ruffled his hair. god, he really was beautiful. you had always known that wonwoo was conventionally handsome. but seeing him in this context, just waking up as the sun shone on him, he was breathtaking. you quickly realized that you had been staring at him for longer than what seemed normal, so you began to sit up and try to wake up fully. you yawned and stretched as wonwoo walked in front of you to open the blinds all the way. you groaned and covered your eyes dramatically. wonwoo laughed, smiling down at you as you opened one eye and glared up at him. he picked up his clothes and made his way out of the bedroom. you watched as he left and shut the door behind him, and you sighed. this week just started, and the outcomes are already looking questionable for keeping your relationship the same as it was before. 

as you left the bathroom after brushing your teeth, the smell of breakfast filled the hallways. your mother had always been the best chef, and her cooking was one of your favourite things about coming home. you walked back to the bedroom and peeked through the door, only to notice that wonwoo was nowhere to be seen. thats when you heard your parents laughter travel up the staircase. you briefly smiled to yourself as you grabbed your phone from the bed and shoved it in your pocket. you headed downstairs and saw your parents and wonwoo sitting in the same seats as they had been the evening before. they all smiled brightly as you walked through the kitchen. “good morning sweetheart!” your mother beamed as she gestured for you to come eat. you sat down with wonwoo on your left again, and smiled at him as you reached past him for a pitcher of water to pour some into your glass. your mother gushed at this small interaction, making a comment to your father about how much the two of you remind her of them as young adults. “how did you both sleep? well rested for the festivities?” you both smiled and nodded as wonwoo spoke. “we slept well! i cant wait to meet more of your family, if they’re all like you three im in for a great week.” he grinned as your parents erupted with laughter and joy. wonwoo was always one for buttering up people, and god was he good at it. a small smile crept onto your face as your parents started telling wonwoo all about your family. you ate quietly as he sat listening intently to everything your mother was telling him.

the wedding wasnt for another two days, but your family had planned a small get-together prior just for everyone to warm up and see each other before the wedding. yourself and wonwoo had decided to just tag along with your parents rather than drive two separate cars. this party was more casual than the wedding, so you didn’t have to dress up that much. the two of you sat in silence in the backseat as your parents spoke amongst themselves. without warning, wonwoos hand made its way to your thigh, just above your knee. you looked down as his hand made contact with your skin through the rip in your jeans. he didnt bat an eye. he continued looking out the window, or looking at his phone. meanwhile, you tried to act like his touch didnt send electricity coursing through your body. without any second thought, you rested your hand on his and looked straight ahead as you tried to ignore your heartbeat pounding in your ears.

as you arrived at your aunts house, you noticed the amount of cars parked outside. you know your family is large, but visualizing it like this makes it seem crazy. your eyes widened at the sight, and you could even hear some of your families laughter before you even got inside. wonwoo walked by your side into the house. the same hum of talking remained for moments before everyone realized that more family had joined them. the house erupted, with aunts and uncles and cousins and grandparents all rushing over to greet the four of you. you hugged all of them, muttering quick ‘hello’s and giving smiles to relatives you hadnt seen in years. after some time everyone began returning to their prior seats, and you all followed suit. in the commotion, you hadn’t even noticed wonwoos hand had come to rest on your lower back.

as you sat down, it felt as though all eyes in the room gravitated to yourself and wonwoo. you looked around before clearing your throat. “everyone, this is my boyfriend wonwoo!” wonwoo smiled and gave a small wave. your family all smiled and started introducing themselves at once. you both laughed at the acts, but he made sure to speak to every person who was there. they all immediately adored him. you spent the evening catching up with family and exchanging old childhood memories. wonwoo chatted with your family as well, telling them about his life and family, as well as your ‘relationship’. throughout the night, his arm stayed wrapped around your shoulders the entire time. every so often when conversation died down you would look up at him to notice he had already been looking at you. you both giggled and turned away, somewhat flustered by the other. 

your parents checked the time, noticing that it had been way later than they thought it was. you all stood up and began saying your goodbyes. as you spoke to your cousin who was getting married, you stifled a yawn. wonwoo noticed and smiled to himself as his arm found its way around your waist. he congratulated your cousin, and talked to her for a bit as you found yourself slowly sinking into wonwoos side. “i think someones tired, we should get going.” he and your cousin laughed as you nodded your head. you gave her one last hug as you followed your parents out of the house and back into the car. on the way back to the house, you had rested your head on wonwoos shoulder. as you fell in and out of consciousness, wonwoos hand lightly patted your head as you yawned.

you felt the car come to a stop as you pulled back into your parents driveway. you lifted your head and looked around, catching wonwoos eye as he gave you a fond look. you both got out of the car and went straight to your room after saying goodnight to your parents. rooting through your suitcase, you grabbed some pajamas and headed for the bathroom to change and get ready for bed. you drowsily brush your teeth, as theres a quiet knock at the door. opening the door, youre met with wonwoo, toothbrush in hand. you try to give him a smile as you move over to give him some room. since coming to your parents house, brushing your teeth together had become a common occurrence. it was peaceful, and the silence was never awkward. although, it was rare for you and wonwoo to encounter awkward silence at any moment. silence with him was always calm, never awkward. you both just enjoyed each others company, and you both knew that. after a couple minutes of standing together at the sink, you both finished getting ready and went back to the bedroom. too tired to worry about wonwoos pillow ‘solution’ from the night before, you both just crawled into bed facing away from each other. you muttered goodnights as he flicked off the lamp.

you found yourself waking up at some point in the middle of the night shivering. the room had cooled off more than it was before, and the one blanket you had wasnt doing the best job. the air conditioning had to be on the lowest setting possible. you could still hear wonwoos soft snores as you moved gingerly and stood up, so you assumed he was still fast asleep. as you walked past the end of the bed, you heard him speak in a low whisper. “where are you going?” he was groggy, his eyes barely opening to look at you in the dark. “oh, im cold so im just going to grab another blanket. you can go back to sleep.” he nodded gently as his head layed back down on the pillow. you made your way to your mothers linen closet and grabbed a fluffy blanket from the top of the pile. as you got back in bed and snuggled back in with the other blanket, you heard wonwoos voice again. “wanna come over here?” you turned over in confusion to look at him, but them you saw what he meant. his arm was lifted, inviting you to snuggle into him. as you shivered again, you thought, ‘whats the worst that could happen?’ so, you shifted towards wonwoo until you met his chest and his arms wrapped the blankets around the two of you. with one of his arms under your head and the other around your waist, you pressed your head to his chest and drifted away to the sound of his heartbeat.

waking up in wonwoos arms again was a shocking experience for half asleep you. as you slowly felt yourself waking up, the warmth surrounding you yet again confused you for a moment. you blinked yourself awake before remembering the events of the middle of the night. the air in the room remained slightly cool as you began to slip out from underneath the blankets. wonwoo had always been a heavy sleeper, as he didnt budge when you snuck out from his hold. you made your way out of the room, the air in the rest of the house feeling the same as it did in your bedroom. you noticed the early morning sun that had been shining through the blinds. suddenly, you realized it may have been earlier than you thought. you shut the bedroom door as quietly as you could behind you when you returned, even though you knew wonwoo was sound asleep anyways. sitting on the side of the bed, you picked up your phone from the table where it sat. 5:47am. so it was way earlier than you thought. you settled back into the blankets, glancing over to see wonwoo in the same way he was when you left. lips slightly parted, long eyelashes resting on his cheeks. he looks so content. as carefully as you can, you lift his arm up and nestle back into his body. although he seemed as though he was in deep sleep when you got back, you couldnt help but notice the arm around your waist lightly squeeze as you nuzzle your face into the crook between his neck and his shoulder.

the next couple of days went by generally the same as the past two did. visiting family, spending time with your parents, just taking time to relax and be at home. acting as a couple actually wasn’t as difficult as you expected it to be. the most you would have to do is recite the backstory you had both made up, or hold hands every now and then to look believable. it felt like no time before it the day of the wedding, and you were all getting ready to head to the wedding hall. you fought to curl your hair in the mirror, but couldnt quite reach one part in the back. this caught wonwoo’s attention, as he made it was over to you behind the mirror. you sighed, making eye contact with him in the mirror. “do you want some help? i can finish it for you.” he reached for the curling iron as you nodded. “i just cant get that one piece, does the rest look okay?” you watched as he tilted his head in concentration while he curled the last few pieces of hair on the back of your head. “turn around.” you turned to face him as he inspected your hair. he fluffed up some pieces, then moved his hands to rest on either side of your face. “it looks great.” for a second, you couldve sworn the love in his eyes was genuine. well, you knew he had love for you, but in a platonic way. but this look felt like a different type of love. before you could process anything that had happened, your mother appeared in the doorway. “oh, arent you two just beautiful?” she crossed her arms and leaned on the doorway. you both stood to face her so she could admire your dress and wonwoos suit. wonwoo had made an effort to get a tie that matched your dress. it didnt take long for your mother to notice the small sentiment as she raved about how cute it is and left to go tell your father. after close to an hour of getting ready in preparation for a wedding that wasnt even your own, you all made your way into your parents’ car and were officially enroute to the wedding. 

the wedding venue was absolutely beautiful. decorated from floor to ceiling with white and gold decorations, you walked in and your jaw dropped. you admired everything as wonwoo stood by your side, also taking in all the glamour of the space. after taking the time to appreciate the decor, wonwoo lightly takes your hand and pulls you into the wedding hall, trailing behind your parents. your parents picked a seat close to the front in order to get a good view of the ceremony. with different members of your extended family surrounding you, you felt right at home. wonwoos hand never left yours from the moment you both stepped into the venue. everyone quietly spoke amongst each other as they all waited for the wedding to begin. you told wonwoo about all the family members you could see, telling him small anecdotes and childhood stories. wonwoo always seemed to be so attentive. you loved that part of him. it didnt feel like long before the music queued and the wedding party began entering the room. you watched as your aunts, uncles, cousins, and their partners all walked into the room in pairs. you began tearing up at the sight of your family all looking so proud of your cousin. wonwoo noticed, squeezing your hand and lightly running his thumb along your knuckles. you wrapped your arm around his as your cousin turned the corner. she was absolutely stunning. you looked towards the front of the room to see her soon-to-be husband in tears at the sight of her. the display of love made you cry as well. all you had wanted since you were a young child was a love like they have now. as your cousin made her way down the aisle, wonwoo silently wiped your tears and squeezed your hand yet again. you gave him a thankful smile as he put his free hand on top of your intertwined fingers.

the rest of the wedding was just as heartwarming as the beginning. more tears were shed, smiles were had, it was a beautiful experience. as the wedding party all exited the room, you sat in wonwoos presence as the guests around you broke out into a chatter about how beautiful the wedding was. in the hum of the crowd, wonwoo watched you in a silent effort to make sure you were feeling okay. you had told him in a drunken rant in the weeks preceding the wedding how much you didnt want to go home because everyone was in love and happy together, and all you had was school and friends. you reassured wonwoo that you appreciate what you have, but as he practically carried you through your apartment, he could hear the sadness and disappointment in your voice through the intoxication. he never brought this up after, but this did make him want to go to this wedding and take care of you even more. as everyone in the wedding hall began standing up and getting ready to leave, wonwoo patted your thigh gently as you both joined everyone else. your parents waited by the door for the two of you to exit through the flood of people. on the drive back, your parents had plenty to say about the newlyweds and the wedding as a whole. you chimed in occasionally, but you were perfectly content with listening to your mothers rambling uninterrupted.

when you get home, you decide to stay in the same dress you had worn for the wedding ceremony, as the wedding dance and reception were only hours later. you relax in the family room with wonwoo, watching whatever your parents had been watching on tv before you left. you sit in the same comfortable silence that you two always manage to seek out. you drape your legs across his lap as he mindlessly draws invisible patterns along your legs with his fingers. interrupting the tv show, your phone rings. hoshi? you answer the phone and put it on speaker.

“y/n!! hows it going, loverboy giving you any trouble?” wonwoo rolls his eyes at hoshis obnoxious tone, but cant help the laugh escaping his body. you flash him a teasing smile. 

“no hosh, im keeping him in line, dont worry.”

“you better be, im not there to do it so i was getting worried.”

wonwoo began playfully arguing with hoshi through the phone as you hold the phone and giggle at their antics. they go on and on for a couple minutes, before wonwoo inevitably gives up. hoshis persistence is truly something to be reckoned with. hoshi has some last final parting words before abruptly ending the phone call.

“have fun lovebirds, see you soon! i dont want to be a godfather yet though!”

you both laugh at him again, letting the silence fall back into the room. before long, its time to go back to the wedding hall for the reception. you find your seats next to your parents as the food begins to be served. wonwoo spots the open bar across the room, and asks if youd like a drink. you give him a nod and hes off to grab refreshments. you dont bother with specifics, as you trust wonwoos knowledge about your taste. he comes back with two glasses, and places one on the table in front of you. smiling in acknowledgement, he gives you a nod. you listen to speeches and songs, before the meal is over and the crowd is brought to the dance floor. being a couple drinks deep so far, you try to convince wonwoo to get up and dance with you. youve always been sort of a lightweight, but you also know your limits. sometimes. wonwoo, however, doesnt have the same taste for alcohol that you do. so he has one or two, and switches to soda before he even feels the slightest bit tipsy. still trying to drag him to the dance floor, you ask wonwoo to come with you in the nicest most stable voice you could muster. he gives in, following you out and joining the many people already enjoying the dj’s music.

you both get a taxi home, as your parents arent the party animals they used to be. wonwoo tries to bring you in quietly, but youre as stable and discrete as a baby giraffe in a china shop. after managing to successfully sneak you into the bedroom without angering your parents, he closes the door as you stumble to the bed and flop back into the blankets. wonwoo hangs his suit jacket on the back of the door and begins gathering his clothes to go get changed in the bathroom. as his hand touches the doorknob, he hears distinct babbling coming from the bed behind him. he turns around to see you staring at the ceiling, and he’s unsure if youre talking to yourself or him. 

“what was that?”

you turn your head towards him and smile. “youre sooo handsome woo. im just so happy that youre my fake boyfriend.”

he laughs at this sudden proclamation. he sits on the bed next to you and leans back onto his arms, gazing down at you. “you're pretty sweet too, y/n. i couldnt ask for a better fake girlfriend.”

“but you knowww…” you attempt to whisper to him, as if it was a secret to him and yourself. “i couldddd be your real girlfriend toooooooo..” you give him a gleeful smile, your eyes closed. he brushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “is that so?” you nod profusely as he says this. he chuckles and stands up, tapping your leg. 

“youve got to get ready for bed, you cant sleep in your dress and makeup.” you sit up in a slouch, giving wonwoo a disapproving look. he puts his hand out to help you up, and you gladly take it. he brings you to the bathroom and hoists you onto the counter, shutting the door to create a barrier between your elevated drunken volume and your parents’ bedroom. he takes a makeup wipe out of its packaging as he places his hand along your neck with his thumb on your jaw, holding your face in its place. you close your eyes as the cold cloth comes into contact with your face. you shiver a little as wonwoo readjusts his grip on your face. when hes done, he pats your thigh as a signal to slide off the countertop. you jump down and try to follow him back into the bedroom, but before you leave he passes you your pajamas to get changed into. you reluctantly return back to the bathroom and try to change as carefully as you can. once you get back into the bedroom, wonwoo is in his pajamas, climbing into bed. you jaunt across the room onto your side, and as soon as wonwoo is settled in, you slowly snuggle into his side. he wraps both arms around you, wrapping you in a warm cocoon of blankets and his body. before you drift off, you mumble “love you woo” into his chest. he knows it was the drunk you speaking, but he makes sure to whisper “love you too y/n” into the quiet night. 

the last morning waking up in wonwoos arms was no different from any of the other days. you try to savour this time a little bit longer, but he soon starts to stir and slowly gets out of bed. you can tell that he thought you were asleep by how carefully he was moving. when he comes back, youre sitting up in the bed on your phone. he’s taken aback, and begins to apologize for waking you up. you reassure him that you were already awake which calms his nerves. while wonwoo is in the bathroom, you begin packing your stuff back into the suitcase you brought with you. when hes ready, you switch places, now with you in the bathroom and wonwoo packing his stuff. you both decide to hit the road early, so youre not getting home tired late at night.

after saying many goodbyes to your family you're hitting the road again. after some time, wonwoo suddenly chimes in. “um, do you remember anything you said last night when we got back from the reception?” youre taken aback by the question, trying to replay every moment of the night. you shake your head. “but im definitely sorry for whatever it may have been.” you both chuckle, as wonwoo turns it over in his head, trying to decide whether or not to continue on this train of thought. “its just…” hes made his decision. “i was thinking about how people say drunk words are sober thoughts, and your drunk words said some things that i actually agree with.” at this point youve turned fully towards him in your seat, trying to figure out what he was about to say next. he takes a deep breath before continuing. “when we were getting ready for bed you said.. you said you wished that this-” he gestures between the two of you, “-wasnt fake. and ive been turning that over and over in my head because… i feel that way too.” the tips of his ears are bright red, and his grip on the steering wheel has tightened slightly. you watch as he tries to calm himself down enough to continue. you decide to let him finish before speaking. “the last few days has made me feel so happy. being around you makes my days better. you don't have to feel the same, you dont even have to say anything if you don't want to. i just.. i had to say something.” you smile at him as you place your hand lightly on his arm. now, its your turn to speak. “wonwoo, you don't understand how difficult it has been to try not to fall for you in the last week. everything you do makes my heart flutter. ive been dreading the day this whole scheme was over. i do wish this wasnt fake. i want this to be our everyday life wonwoo. i want this to be us.” his hand finds yours as a smile overtakes his face. you hold his hand in yours, not wanting to ever let go. wonwoo glances over at you. “i cant believe that the girl i met at the convenience store is finally my girlfriend after us dating for 6 months.” you laugh, letting your head rest against the car headrest as you let the quiet music from the radio fill the silence. 

you should've known this fake relationship would last longer than the week you signed up for.

[f1letters]

mastermind | cs55

"what if I told you none of it was accidental?"

summary: it all started when she saw him across the room and she knew right away she wouldn't give up until he was hers

warning: overall fluff, lying reader (with the dumbest but funniest plan too lol), daddy issues, slut-shaming, mentions of alcohol, swearing, suggestive language, the beginning of the story takes place in 2021 when Carlos joined Ferrari (so it's all flashback for much of the story, including the 2021 Monaco GP)

pairing: carlos sainz x reader

word count: 3.8k

note: everything in bold are song references and in italic are thoughts, which includes memories from the past.

spanish words used: corazón = heart; bebé = baby; ay Dios mío = oh my God; mi amor = my love; te quiero mucho = I love you so much

so I guess this week's theme is Scuderia Ferrari! haha, I hope all of you enjoy this one as always! I can't believe we are already on the 6TH STORY of the midnights series! thank you for all the love you have been giving me in the past weeks since I started, it means the world to me

masterlist

Once upon a time, the planets and the fates

And all the stars aligned

You and I ended up in the same room

At the same time

Once upon a time, in the beautiful city of Milan, dozens of people gathered at a gala dinner to celebrate the anniversary of the iconic racing team that was Scuderia Ferrari.

Like everything associated with the luxury Italian car manufacturer, the dinner was going to be a monumental and remarkable celebration. The red team never did anything less than big, so clearly, no costs had been spared to make the party the best it could be.

It had vintage cars on display, red carpets throughout the corridors, and walls covered in gold frames with images of the team's history over the decades. The ostentation was notable, from the table decorations in the characteristic Ferrari colours to the incredible reception and service of all employees of the gala.

Y/N couldn't believe all the beauty her eyes saw. The young woman almost felt dizzy trying to capture all the details that surrounded her.

Being the daughter of a very busy businessman, it wasn't the first time that the girl ended up having to represent him in business commitments due to his inability to attend. However, as someone who only played a small role in the company's finances, she still felt lost and out of place, especially at a dinner party the size of this one.

The weight on her shoulders of representing her father, one of the team's biggest investors and sponsors, was something that still scared her, no matter how many times she did it.

Y / N walked elegantly across the room, with the sound of her high heels clicking on the floor following her until she reached her table. Her name written on a glass plate indicated where she should sit and she did so, adjusting her long black silk dress so that it wouldn't get crumpled on the chair.

As time progressed, her table was filled with old and arrogant businessmen, more interested in talking about money and showing off their luxury. Y/N made small talk occasionally, but she obviously felt like an outsider.

My father would fit perfectly in here, she couldn't help but think. Critical of her as always, even without being in Italy, he managed to complain about her look for the evening, criticizing her choice of dress for not being red or yellow like the symbol of the Prancing Horse. 

The young woman ended up giving in partially, painting her lips with a red lipstick that she had forgotten in her suitcase, seeking his approval, just like she had done all her life.

Her eyes roamed along the room in search of entertainment, so bored that watching others would be a far more interesting escape than listening to the men talk.

And that's when she saw him, in the same room, at the same time.

In all his splendour, Carlos Sainz, the promising Spanish driver who had just joined Scuderia Ferrari, immediately captured her attention. He was sitting at the bar, in a black suit that fit his muscular frame perfectly, fiddling with his phone, probably just as pleased to be there as she was.

All the stars aligned to bring them there at that moment, and Y/N was determined to take advantage of the chance of a lifetime given to her.

And the touch of a hand lit the fuse

Of a chain reaction of countermoves

To assess the equation of you

Checkmate, I couldn't lose

She sat there for a few minutes while she listed several potential ways to approach the driver.

Could she be straightforward and sit next to him at the bar and try to strike up a conversation? No, that wasn't a good idea. He wouldn't want some random girl bothering him at his first Ferrari show. 

What if she waited for him to look her way and smile at him, or wave at him, something like that? Okay, that was ridiculous. If Carlos didn't look at her all night, Y/N was going to stay there forever staring at him like a stalker, only to go home disappointed.

The young woman needed an excuse to talk to him, something that would allow her to build a master plan that could not fail.

She couldn't lose. She couldn't let this chance pass.

Nothing was going to stop her.

He had to be hers.

And then it hit her, her 'a-ha!' moment. With a completely out-of-the-box idea, the girl got up from her chair, apologised to the people at the table for leaving, and confidently started her mission.

Carlos was sitting at the bar all alone, holding a whiskey in one hand while the other was scrolling through his Instagram feed, until out of nowhere he felt the touch of a small, soft hand on his big, rough one, catching him off guard.

"Sorry about that, but there's this weird guy who keeps bugging me. When I saw you alone, I told him my boyfriend was waiting for me as an excuse for him to leave me alone, I'm sorry." Y/N lied through her teeth and let out a nervous giggle as soon as she saw the Spaniard's shocked face.

Carlos couldn't help but notice the girl's charming figure and the way the dress fit her amazing body in all the right places, still in shock mode not knowing what to say.

Y/N noticed and released a smile. Her plan was kicking off and starting in full force. "I hope you don't have a girlfriend who is going to show up at any moment and pull my hair out for hitting on her man?" She said, laughing more confidently now.

"Don't worry. There is no girlfriend." He smiled at him, allowing their eyes to meet for the first time and squeezing her hand more securely. "So who's the creepy guy?"

"Oh." Oh fuck. Y/N did not expect this question at all. Panicking already about her lie being revealed, the woman impulsively looked over her shoulder and pointed at a random skinny man who had his back to them. "That guy over there, but I think I've already lost him."

Carlos looked in the direction she pointed and a discreet smirk formed on his face. He looked back at the girl and without releasing her hand from his hold, he spoke. "So, what's your name, corazón?"

What if I told you none of it was accidental?

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me

I laid the groundwork, and then

Just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

Though the beginning of the couple's story had been anything but accidental, for the rest of that night, they were all about each other. Attached at the hip, they eventually moved to the driver's table, cocktails in their hands, and just talked for hours on end about everything and anything: from how nervous he was about joining a racing team with a history like Ferrari's, to why she was at that gala, even if she didn't look like one of the normal guests at these celebrations.

The fiery chemistry between them was noticeable to anyone who laid eyes on them, and with him being the hot new addition to the team, countless people were curious about the pair.

The two felt like children again, so much was the joyful enthusiasm that grew inside them. They didn't know if it was something physical or psychological that was happening to them but one thing they both believed: it was something magical.

But love at first sight has these foolish things: for those lucky enough to experience it, it only happens once in a lifetime and it's something that stays with them until the end of time.

After a while, Carlos excused himself to go to the bathroom and Y/N knew it was time to get the second phase of her master plan in order.

When the driver came back, the woman was nowhere to be seen. It was almost as if she were a mirage, a figment of his imagination that simply vanished into thin air.

He looked for her, looking all around the splendorous dining room, but there was no sign of her. What do you mean she left him alone after all the chemistry that was created between the two throughout that night?

It was as he turned back to the table that Carlos noticed the red napkin folded over his plate. Carefully, he picked it up and unfolded it, finding a phone number and the girl's name written in black ink, along with a clumsy heart at the bottom of the note.

If she had planned to have him completely fascinated by her and wanting to see her again more than anything else, she had succeeded.

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

And now you're mine

It was all by dеsign

'Cause I'm a mastermind

The very next day Carlos gained the courage to text her and make his move since the pawns were now on his side.

From: Unknown

I have a paddock pass with your name on it as my guest waiting for you. Monaco, next Sunday. Hope to see you there, bebé - CS

Her heartbeat immediately sped up as she read that message. However, there was no time to waste.

The show must go on. She had a man to win. Putting her brave face back on, the young woman took a deep breath and decided to send a text playing hard to get, trying to entertain the curiosity he had in getting to know her better.

To: Carlos Sainz

I guess you'll have to wait and see if I show up...

You see, all the wisеst women

Had to do it this way

'Cause we were born to be the pawn

In every lover's game

Sunday morning came in the blink of an eye.

Y/N woke up with the sunlight hitting the window of her hotel room. She got up right away, put on a robe and went to the entrance to the balcony to observe the breathtaking view of Monte Carlo.

The girl could barely contain the butterflies of anticipation that she had in her stomach, anxious to see again the Spaniard who controlled all her thoughts since the gala where they met.

During the days until the race weekend arrived, the couple exchanged messages all the time. Not only did it allow them to get to know each other better, but it also took their relationship to a new level, with the two of them now openly flirting, not afraid to reveal their mutual interest in each other.

Y/N went to her wardrobe and carefully chose her outfit for the day, selecting a simple white jumpsuit and silver open heels. 

She knew that her presence would be noticed, thanks to the importance of her last name, something that worried her a lot. Not because of Carlos, but because of what her father would say.

The businessman had heard from some of his associates about his daughter's interaction with the driver during the Italian team's anniversary, which led to a huge argument between them. Y/N's father expressed his disappointment in (what he thought was) his daughter's lack of professionalism, going so far as to accuse her of being a disgrace to the family name for acting like a 'slut'.

Nothing out of the ordinary for him. The young woman could no longer take the things he said to heart, with so many criticisms and low expectations her dad had of her.

She wasn't going to stop living because of him, especially when it put at risk her relationship with a man as spectacular as Carlos.

Going against her father's orders, Y/N got on their private plane and flew towards Monaco without giving him any explanation of where she was going.

After she finished getting ready, the woman looked at her reflection in the mirror and one of Carlos' many texts echoed in her thoughts: your red lipstick drove me completely crazy to kiss you in Milan. And with that came the next step in her master plan. She took the same lipstick and applied it over her lips. 

Carlos wouldn't be able to resist.

If you fail to plan, you plan to fail

Strategy sets the scene for the tale

I'm the wind in our free-flowing sails

And the liquor in our cocktails

Y/N got into her rented black Ferrari parked outside the hotel and drove the short distance to the circuit. Did she need to have such an ostentatious car with her? No, she didn't. But why not take advantage of her connections with the team to entice the man who was waiting for her?

Arriving at the parking lot, the engine of her car caught the attention of the people who were there. Photographers began to direct their cameras in her direction, flashes going off, waiting to know who was behind the smoked windows driving.

As soon as she got out of the vehicle, she could hear whispers: who was she, where was her father, was she a guest of Scuderia Ferrari, did she have an affair with one of the drivers.

Putting on her sunglasses to protect herself from the sun as well as the flashes, Y/N lifted her head and started to walk confidently towards the entrance where she knew her pass had been left by Sainz and was waiting for her.

On the other side of the paddock, Carlos became aware of the commotion that was settling in at the entrance, wondering which celebrity had arrived this time. Although he was still hopeful, the driver didn't know yet if his dream girl was going to show up.

Seconds later, his colleague Charles approached him and the two sat on two piles of tires, talking about the race that was going to start in half an hour until Monaco's home hero interrupted the conversation.

"Mate, isn't that your girl?" Leclerc, now in on the subject after Carlos told him everything about that night, asked when he saw a figure in white approach their motorhome, with a sea of photographers following close behind her.

"Ay Dios mío, she came." Carlos spoke aloud, blurting out his thoughts as his brain seemed to shut down with the image of her.

Y/N was now mere steps away from the boy and looked directly into his eyes, giving him a sly smile, almost like a scheming criminal plotting something.

With his eyes still locked on her, as if she were the only person in the world at that moment, Carlos watched as she walked right past him into the motorhome, not saying a word to him.

Just a gentle touch on his hand, like she did at the bar on that memorable night.

"Good luck with her, mate." Charles' laughter echoed in the Spaniard's ears as the Monegasque left, leaving Sainz standing there, speechless, all alone.

Carlos woke up from his trance when he felt the flashes on him. The photographers. They sure took pictures of their little moment there.

Oh, she was trouble.

What if I told you none of it was accidental?

And the first night that you saw me

I knew I wanted your body

I laid the groundwork, and then

Just like clockwork

The dominoes cascaded in a line

The man followed her path and entered Ferrari's home, immediately seeing her alone, leaning against one of the walls and concentrating on her phone.

Quickly, the driver reached near her and grabbed her hand, pulling her with him into his driver's room.

On the other hand, the girl hadn't even realized what was happening to her when her back made contact with a wall inside a small room and she heard the door close in a hurry.

The image in front of her left her feeling equally shy and wanting more. Carlos placed both hands on the wall next to her head, making it impossible for her to break free from his hold.

"You're playing with fire, corazón." Carlos moved dangerously close to her, allowing her to feel his warm breath on her neck. "Coming in here teasing me like that."

"Me? Teasing? Never." Y/N replied, running her hand over the fireproof garment that covered the man's toned chest. 

"You're lucky I spent all this time waiting for you to come." He lifted his head, making eye contact with the girl. "You make me lose all control, bebé, I swear. Since the first night I saw you, I've wanted your body."

One of the driver's hands left the wall and he brought it to the young woman's cheek, letting his thumb run gently across her lower lip.

"That red lipstick again." Sainz reduced the distance between them even further, letting his own mouth graze over hers. "You're doing it on purpose."

"What if I am?" She spoke, giving him a look that was a perfect mixture of innocent and provocative.

Carlos glanced at the watch on his wrist for just a second, turning his attention back to her right away. "Then I guess I still have time to show you what happens when I lose control."

Although he ended up in second place in that race, almost reaching the top of the podium, Carlos left Monaco feeling like a winner after that half hour between those four walls.

Nothing would ever make him feel on top of the world like her on top of him.

What if I told you I'm a mastermind?

And now you're mine

It was all my design

'Cause I'm a mastermind

More than a year and a half later, and with the 2022 Formula 1 season now over, Y/N and Carlos were still together and happier than ever.

They overtook everything that came their way, only to get back stronger.

Her father obviously hadn't taken their relationship well from the start, leading the girl to quit the company and cut off contact with him for months on end. only now trying to make amends. Only now, more than a year later, the two were trying to make amends and reconnect, since the businessman contacted her to apologize for everything he had put her through during her life.

The media was also a difficult step to overcome. For a long time, they insisted on invading their privacy due to the business connections between both sides. It was tricky to strike a balance between not being a secret and keeping their relationship to themselves at the same time. But eventually, the two of them managed to get there with the experience that time brought.

Now, the couple was lying in their bed, in the house they had recently bought together in Milan, a city so special to them and that symbolized the beginning of their story.

Being there, in silence, holding each other, with the room lit only by the light coming from the fireplace. That meant the world to them. Those were the kind of moments they cherished the most, especially in such a relationship that required a lot of work with how much he travelled during most of the year.

The young woman was lost in the memories of the past, daydreaming about the beginning of their history, when Carlos intertwined their fingers and placed a kiss on the top of her head.

He was hers.

Just like she designed it like the mastermind she was.

No one wanted to play with me as a little kid

So I've been scheming like a criminal ever since

To make them love me and make it seem effortless

This is the first time I've felt the need to confess

And I swear

I'm only cryptic and Machiavellian

'Cause I care

Perhaps moved by her trip down memory lane, for the first time in their relationship, Y/N felt the sudden need to confess.

Her palms got sweaty as soon as she started to think of all the scenarios that could result from her confession. What if he didn't want her anymore? Would it be worth it to risk an argument over a detail about the day they met?

"Mi amor, what's wrong?" Carlos asked as he felt the heat and sweat between their clasped hands, sitting down on the bed with his body lightly over hers.

"What if I told you none of this was accidental?" She asked nervously, earning back a laugh from her boyfriend's mouth.

"Sorry bebé, but you've lost me now." He confessed.

"The first night that you saw me. I planned the whole thing. There wasn't a creepy guy trying to hit on me. I lied to get you to talk to me." Wasting no time, Y/N let the words out of her mouth before the courage to speak again disappeared.

So I told you none of it was accidental

And the first night that you saw me

Nothing was gonna stop me

I laid the groundwork, and then

Saw a wide smirk on your face

You knew the entire time

Y/N put both hands over her face to hide and avoid seeing the driver's reaction to her admission.

Carlos, on the other hand, could only chuckle as he brought his hands to his partner's wrists in order to expose her face again.

The young woman opened her eyes slowly in fear, only to be faced with a wide smirk on his face as he looked at her as if she had told the greatest joke in the world.

"I'm being serious, babe. I swear it's the truth." She stressed, remaining with her back flat on the mattress and with her boyfriend's body now fully against hers.

"Ay mi corazón, te quiero mucho." Carlos let out a loud laugh and held her face, placing a quick kiss on her lips to calm her down. "I knew the entire time."

"What?" She asked in shock, sitting on the bed and forcing the boy to sit with her.

"You know the random man you said was the perv?" Y/N nodded in response to Sainz's question. "It was my cousin Carlos. He had been with me all night until I went to the bar to get a drink."

Oh. My. God.

Y/N was never going to show up at the next Sainz family gathering.

You knew that I'm a mastermind

And now you're mine

Yeah, all you did was smile

'Cause I'm a mastermind

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thank you to everyone that asked to be tagged! please let me know if you want to be added to the next stories! 💌

[fluentmoviequoter]

Two of Them

Requested Here!

Pairing: Jim Street x fem!reader

Summary: When Hondo asks you to help catch a car thief, you meet Jim Street. As you get to know one another, you learn that you have a lot in common, but balance each other out perfectly.

Warnings: r loves cars/owns an auto shop & is sarcastic and makes jokes (very similar to Street), mentions of robbery and murder, fluff, softie Street

Word Count: 4.7k+ words

A/N: There's so many things I love about this request and a ton of (personal) references! I hope you all enjoy!🤍

Masterlist Directory | Jim Street Masterlist | Request Info\Fandom List

Someone wolf whistles as the garage door opens, and you walk faster to see what is worthy of such attention. When you step into the garage if your auto restoration shop, your jaw drops.

“Is that a ’59 Impala?” you ask breathlessly.

“Sure is,” Joel, your righthand man and drivetrain expert, answers. “She’s here for a tune-up. I know you’re busy, boss, so I can handle this one.”

“Yeah, right!” you exclaim. “All of my childhood dreams are under that hood.”

“You dreamt about reconstructed motors as a kid?”

“Do you talk to your wife like this, Joel? Because she’s never going to let you buy a C-10 with that attitude.”

He chuckles before he waves toward the office. “Impala owner is in there. Wants to talk to you.”

“Thanks, Joel. Don’t start without me!” you call over your shoulder.

As you enter the lobby, you put on your best customer service smile and straighten your shirt.

“Good afternoon,” you greet. “You must be the owner of that beautiful Impala.”

“Yes, ma’am. My friend Rick Castle told me that you were the person to see. I had the car restored by a guy in Texas, a ground-up rebuild, but it’s not riding as smoothly as it was before. The passenger side – sorry, I’m not very good at explaining these things – it almost feels like it’s bouncing while I drive,” he explains.

“Okay, that’s really helpful. It sounds like it’s probably an alignment issue. We can look at it today and give you a call when we find the issue,” you suggest.

“That would be great. Thank you.”

You review the paperwork he completed with Joel quickly before telling him bye. After putting his contact information into your computer system, you rush back to the garage.

“Let’s find out what’s causing the involuntary hydraulics,” you tell Joel.

“Hondo, get 20 squad in here!” Hicks calls.

As they gather in the situation room, Lieutenant Lynch queues a video pulled from a security camera. Street recognizes the location as the building they raided a few days earlier but remains quiet as she begins speaking.

“This is, of course, the building you raided. If you’ll recall, we hoped to locate an unidentified subject tied to several car robberies, assaults, and more recently, carjacking with deadly force. He killed a driver during a carjacking gone wrong and has continued to get more violent with each crime. We still haven’t identified the perp, courtesy of his never-ending vehicle supply and seeming knowledge of traffic cams. He didn’t seem to think about the security camera across the street from the parking garage before the raid, however.”

She presses a button on the tablet in her hand, and the video begins to play. Several cars come and go, but there’s nothing unusual. Hicks raises his hand to point to the time stamp, and the guys watch, waiting for some smoking gun or clear picture of the guy running from the cops. All that happens, though, is a man leaving in a convertible. Lynch pauses the video again and looks up expectantly.

“Was that a Triumph?” Luca asks excitedly. “Those are still rare in the states, even decades after they stopped manufacturing them.”

“It’s not stock,” Street adds with a shake of his head. “That’s not standard suspension, and the paint is too new to be original. Whoever brought that over had a lot of work done to it.”

“Which is great, makes it easier to find,” Hicks agrees. “Except there’s no plates, no registration, and no one has reported it missing. There’s not even a T3 in that color registered to anyone through the California DMV. We have something to look for, but no more information on who we’re looking for.”

“I know someone who can help,” Hondo says. “Classic cars, new paint, rebuilds…”

“You have a car guy?” Deacon asks. “Why?”

“Of course, I have a car guy,” Hondo scoffs. “My dad may have introduced me.”

“That makes more sense,” Luca says, nodding with Deacon.

“Hold on, guys,” Lynch calls. “The tech team thinks they may have found another lead. Consensus is this video is the same driver.”

She plays a new video, this one taken from a gas station camera. Another newer sports car pulls in, but no one exits the car. It sits for nearly three minutes, then pulls out.

“I’m not as versed as these guys, but that looks like a Lamborghini,” Tan comments. “Can’t be too hard to trace those in Los Angeles.”

“It is when they don’t have the original drivetrain. The back tires spun out way too far in that turn. It’s been modified, too,” Luca points out.

“He’s either got a thing for modified sports cars or he’s someone who’s flipping them to be completely different cars after he steals them,” Street hypothesizes.

“Your car guy gonna be able to help with that?” Hicks asks Hondo.

“Oh, yeah,” he answers. “This case’ll be closed in a week.”

“Then get out of here. You’ve got a rare car to track down.”

“One more thing,” Lynch says. “Really, I promise this is the last thing. None of those cars have been seen again. Seems like he drives them once and then ditches them.”

“He has to have his own garage, then,” Street says. “One that I wish I had.”

“Then it’s a bigger target,” Hondo declares. “Let’s roll.”

The chime connected to the front door of your shop rings loudly and you tell Joel to go check on the customer. You are under a 1977 Chevrolet Nova and elbow-deep in the engine bay. Even if you’d wanted to be the first face they saw, given that it is your business, you wouldn’t be able to get out from under the car before they assumed no one was here.

“Ah ha,” you murmur.

You pull the broken mounting bracket down past the ballast. It falls to the floor with a loud ting before you roll out from under the car. As you sit up and wipe your grease-covered hands on your coveralls, you see Hondo looking at you with his brows raised.

“Hello,” you greet.

“You got a little something right… everywhere,” he jokes.

“Funny,” you reply as you stand. “If your eyesight is that good, it’s no wonder you made SWAT.”

Someone laughs behind him, and you lean to the side. His entire squad waits in the lobby, and you wave before returning your attention to Hondo.

“I take it you’re not here about your dad’s car then,” you muse.

“Not today. We need some help with a case, if you have the time,” he explains.

“Sure. I’ll have Joel take you to my office. Let me clean up and I’ll meet you – all of you, I guess – in there in a minute.”

“Thanks. I owe you one.”

“You owe me an entire car at this point, Hondo,” you call as you walk out of the garage.

Once you’re out of your stained overalls and have washed all of the grease and car-related grime off of your skin, you return to your office. Hondo and three other men wait beside your desk, and you invite them to sit. Hondo introduces you to Tan, Luca, and Street, and you shake each of their hands before you sit across from them. Hondo rolls his eyes when you smile at Street, but you’re not sure why.

“So, what exactly does Metro SWAT need from an auto shop?” you ask.

“Long story short, there’s a guy stealing sports cars; classics, fresh off the floor, and everything in between. Then he’s customizing them, driving them once, and ditching them for a new illegally obtained ride,” Hondo answers.

You nod as you think, then lean on your elbows on your desk. “Why customize them?”

“To make them untraceable, we think,” Luca answers. “You can’t report a car missing if it doesn’t exist anymore.”

“That tracks,” you agree. “But then the question becomes, how do you ditch them? You can’t leave something like that at a chop shop, the parts would bring more issues.”

“Private garage,” Street says. “Or maybe he’s selling them out of the county. Lots of possibilities.”

“It takes an incredibly rich, incredibly dumb person to treat cars like that,” you comment.

“We deal with criminals,” Hondo interrupts. “Rich and dumb is kind of our thing.”

“No, Hondo, cars aren’t like people. They fight back, they don’t just disappear without a trace.”

“She’s right,” Street adds. “These cars are more than property to be stolen.”

“What are you saying?” Hondo asks.

“Ever read Christine?” you joke.

“Or heard of Decepticons?” Street adds.

You smile at him again, and he nods before he winks quickly.

“So, can you help us or not?” Hondo inquires.

“Yeah, of course. What do you need me to do?”

“We’ve got some security cam footage of the cars he’s altered. We need to know where he’s getting the work done, or info on where a private garage big enough for a collection like this would be.”

“I’d be happy to look. I can’t promise anything, though. My clientele is more of the rebuild this classic or fix this issue not the I want to make a rare sports car even more unique off the books.”

“That’s why we’re here.” Hondo looks at his phone quickly and huffs. “Uh, Street, you stay and go over the videos with her. Deac said he and Chris need backup.”

“You got it,” Street answers.

Hondo thanks you quickly before he, Luca, and Tan leave. You’re left alone in your office with Street and aren’t sure how to start a conversation after joking together while Hondo filled you in on the case.

“Uh, here’s the videos. There’s only a few on this, but it should be enough to get an idea of what he’s doing,” Street says as he passes you a memory stick.

You take it from him and insert it into your computer. As the videos begin playing, you rewind it, pause it, and take a few notes. The cars in it don’t have anything in common, other than the fact that they’re stolen and modified.

“Well, I can say for sure that my guys didn’t do this work. Nobody I work with did, either. I’ll ask around and see what I can find,” you tell Street.

“I appreciate that,” he replies. “You know, when Hondo said he had a car guy, I was expecting…”

“A guy?” you guess.

“I mean, yeah. Middle-aged, beer belly, his name on the sign. The usual.”

“Sounds like my shapewear is doing its job if you don’t see a beer belly,” you joke.

“Please, you know how pretty you are,” Street replies.

“Seems like you think so.”

You lean forward and smile as you return the video drive to Street. He returns your smile and opens his mouth, likely to make another joke, before Joel knocks on the door.

“We’ve got another customer, boss. With a ’73 Corolla,” he informs.

“Excellent timing,” you mumble.

Street stands as you do and says, “Call Hondo, or me, whoever, if you find anything. Thanks for helping.”

“I will. Thanks, Street.”

He leaves through the lobby, and you take a deep breath. Joel smiles as he watches you, but you tell him to get back to work before he can comment.

“On what?” he yells behind you.

“Hondo, we’re not even doing anything,” Street groans in HQ the following morning. “Just let me go make sure she doesn’t need help or anything!”

“She knows more about cars than you do,” Hondo answers.

“That’s not what I mean. C’mon, man, she has an auto shop. Are you really going to make me sit here when I could be solving a case in my dream garage?”

“Hondo!” Deacon calls. “We’ve got another video. New car this time, but it doesn’t look modified.”

Street looks toward Hondo expectantly, and nearly cheers when Hondo sighs and tells him to go. He accepts the video and rushes to his motorcycle. Work will be more fun with you, he thinks.

“You’re back,” you say when Street walks into the garage.

“And you’re working on a 1960s Mustang,” he says dreamily.

“1964,” you tell him. “Want to take a look?”

“I’m supposed to be working. We have a new video with a different car.”

“Surely it can wait a few seconds, so you can look at the new 289 sitting pretty under the hood.”

“Yeah, we can wait,” Street agrees as he follows you to the hood of the car.

After Street takes a few minutes to admire the work you’ve done on the Mustang, you lead him to your office and bring up the new video.

“I haven’t seen it, but the people in the lab didn’t think it had been modified,” Street explains.

“Okay. Let’s see,” you say, turning the screen toward him.

Your shoulder presses against his arm as you watch, but you’re both too interested in the sports car on the screen to notice that you’re in shared space.

“I don’t see anything,” Street says.

You drag the video slowly and pause it when the wheels turn.

“That car shouldn’t be all-wheel drive. It’s a minor conversion compared to the other work you’ve shown me.”

“Who makes a Datsun 240z all-wheel drive?” Street murmurs.

“Who steals a Datsun 240z?” you counter. “They stopped making them for a reason. Short of a complete overhaul, they weren’t worth their weight in metal.”

“As right as you are, that doesn’t bring us any closer to finding this guy.”

“No,” you agree. “And none of my friends have heard anything. We’re getting the word out, though, so as soon as it reaches the right person, I’ll have more information for you. It’d be great if he decided to switch garages and was my next customer.”

“It would be easier.” Street leans back in the seat and looks at the pictures on your wall. “Best and worst customer to date, go,” he asks.

“Ooh, okay,” you say excitedly. “Best? A writer who lives up in the hills has brought me over 20 different rare classics to restore from the ground up. The worst was last week. Kid came in with a brand new, stock Lambo Huracan and wanted the double-clutch tranny switched out for a 4-speed automatic.”

“In a Huracan?” Street repeats incredulously. “I… I feel like I just aged twenty years.”

“Tell me about it. I asked him if he could drive it the way it was and never got an answer.”

“Did you do it?”

“Are you kidding? No! I’m in this business for the cars, and that’s just sacrilegious.”

Hondo knocks on your open door, and he’s leaning against it with his brows raised when you look up.

“There’s two of them!” he exclaims dramatically as he looks back at the rest of the guys. “I thought you and Street were bad enough separately, but this isn’t fair.”

“Can I help you Hondo?” you ask, ignoring his comment. Although, you don’t hate him viewing this as you and Street, together, as one.

“I just came to see if anything came of that video,” Hondo says.

“Nothing inherently helpful. Your smoking gun is still lost.”

“Keep looking,” Hondo requests, tapping his knuckles against the doorframe before he leads 20 squad away.

Street watches him leave, shakes his head, and turns back to you to ask, “How’d you get into cars?”

“My, uh, my home life wasn’t great growing up. Cars were my escape. From the time I was old enough to realize that walking out into the driveway to mess with the cars got me away from the fighting, I was out there constantly. Then it became a love for cars and everything they mean to people. This isn’t just my job, it’s my passion.”

“I lived in foster homes for too long,” Street says. “When I met my brother, Noah, he got me into motorcycles, which led to cars. We dreamed about getting a Ducati someday.”

“See? Cars mean something, they’re more than electronics and gas to get you from A to B. They’re life itself for some of us.”

“And you treat them like that. When I get that Ducati, I’ll bring it to you.”

“For what? Those are perfect as is.”

“Maybe it’ll just be an excuse to see you.”

You smile and shake your head, but you know that you’d welcome him in, anytime, with or without a Ducati.

“… And then after the toe, caster, and camber are matched up on both sides, we can move on to complete the diagnostics,” you finish.

“Okay,” the young girl says. “I need to call my dad really fast. Can I come back in and let you know after that?”

“Of course. Take your time.”

As she walks out, you notice Street standing in the doorway to the garage.

“That happen often?” he asks, gesturing toward the girl standing outside.

“Occasionally. Mostly with younger customers,” you answer. “Must be nice to have a parental relationship like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

“So, what can I do for you, Officer Street?”

“Are you ever going to call me Jim?” he asks.

“I like cars, so Street is more fun,” you reply with a shrug.

“I actually came to give you a break. Hondo said you’ve been sending him updates day and night. You have to step back from it all before you burn out,” Street explains.

“I can’t. I have cars to finish, and some of my contacts have leads that seem promising, but they have to go through a chain of different garages, and…”

Street steps to you and lays his hands on your shoulders. He waits until you look into his eyes and relax to say, “You need a break. Trust me.”

“I need to finish with her,” you whisper. “Five minutes?”

“Five minutes,” he agrees. “And then I’m dragging you out of here if you won’t go willingly.”

Five minutes later, you follow Street into the small customer parking area outside the lobby. He walks to a motorcycle, and you eye it in admiration.

“This is your bike? It’s gorgeous, Street,” you say, running your fingers over the smooth metal body.

“It’s fast too,” he replies.

You accept a helmet and put it on as he climbs onto the bike. The Cardo logo on the side of the helmet catches your attention, but as you sit behind him and wrap your arms around him, you’re more than happy to ride in silence and decompress.

When you get back to the garage, you climb off the bike and hug Street before he can swing his leg over.

“Thank you,” you say softly. “I did need that.”

“I’m not just a pretty face, you know,” he jokes as he returns your hug.

“Neither am I. And you shift into fourth too soon. That’s why it revs harder.”

“I knew coming to see you would embarrass me eventually,” Street laments. “But at least you’re pretty and really close to me.”

“I can move,” you say against his shoulder.

“No, thanks. Not until I have to go back to work.”

His phone rings in his pocket and you laugh as he grumbles, “Hondo always has to ruin the moment.”

The phone on your desk rings again as you lower the new L1 engine into a C-10. You roll your eyes at the sound but refuse to answer it.

“Somebody else answer the phone!” you call. “I can’t answer another stupid question today!”

Joel salutes you as he walks through your open door. He returns a moment later with the cordless phone in his hand and smiles.

“It’s Street. Would you like me to pass along your message?”

You extend your cleaner hand and tuck the phone between your ear and shoulder to say, “Hey, Street.”

“Can you remove the hemi from my Charger?” he asks. “It’s too loud when I drive.”

“I will hang up on you,” you threaten.

The line beeps and you pull the phone from your ear with pinched brows.

“Not if I hang up on you first,” Street says from the doorway. “Which is rude, by the way.”

“Have more videos for me to watch?” you ask loudly as you lean into the engine bay of the truck.

“No, just wanted to drop by. Nice body… the truck, I mean.”

“Sure, you did.”

You grunt as you stand and pass a screwdriver to Street.

“I don’t work here.”

“Yet you’re here every day,” Joel says from inside the cab of the truck.

“Not my fault your boss freelances for my boss,” Street replies.

“I told Hondo this morning that I hadn’t heard anything,” you interrupt as you wipe your hands on a rag.

“I know. I just wanted to drop by. I got off early, so, here I am.”

“Hmm. I was hoping you’d say you were undercover or something.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t want to believe this is how you dress when you’re not in uniform,” you joke.

“You’re covered in-“

“I’m at work,” you defend. “Hazards of the job. And don’t bring up the fact that my laundry room smells like motor oil because you can’t prove that.”

Your phone buzzes on the workbench behind you, and you apologize as you walk past Street to get it. He watches your eyes widen as you press the screen a few times.

“Call Hondo,” you demand.

“But-“

“I know who your car thief is. He’s on his way here right now with the Triumph T3.”

“How? Why?” Street questions.

“The guy he hired to do the work thought they were really his cars. Apparently, my name came up and with the message about him going through the automotive grapevine, his former mechanic recommended me for a modification tune-up,” you explain quickly.

Hondo arrives less than ten minutes later with the rest of 20 Squad. He asks what is so urgent as he looks between you and Street, though there isn’t much room between you.

“He isn’t ditching the cars. He’s still driving the cars because the Triumph slid last night and now he’s bringing it here to be repaired,” you tell Hondo.

“Okay, it slid and he’s bringing in one stolen car. What does that mean for me? And no automotive speak,” Hondo replies.

“Could I interest you in the Cybertronian translation?”

“Tell me what my bad guy did.”

“If I can convince him to list every car he may want me to work on in the future, could you get a warrant? I’ll try to get an address and a name for him, though they may not be legitimate.”

“We can certainly try,” Deacon agrees. “But he doesn’t seem like the type that will answer questions.”

“I have a way of getting people to talk. Especially car people. Guys like him like to brag, so if I one him up, he won’t have a choice but to tell me what you need to know.”

“Just be careful,” Street says. “Don’t let him get so cocky he thinks he has to prove himself in any way except talking about cars.”

“I won’t. But you guys need to get out of sight. He’ll want to see the garage and get a feel for the security.”

“We can pretend to be security,” Street argues.

“Nah, you got a cop face, man,” Joel says from inside the truck.

“Joel, I’m going to marry your boss and ask her to fire you,” Street shoots back.

“I want to hear more about that later,” you interrupt. “But seriously, get out of sight.”

A few minutes later, a Triumph T3 stops outside of the lobby entrance. The man who enters looks like the driver in the security videos, but you have to get more information before anything else can happen.

“Hi,” you greet. “You must be the gentleman Josh told me about. He said you had a classic, but I was not expecting a ‘50s Triumph. That’s a gorgeous car, sir.”

“I appreciate it. She’s my baby, but the steering is a bit off since I hit a wet patch last night and the back end slid.”

“That sounds like a simple enough fix. If you can just fill out some information-“

“Josh said you’d do this off the books for me, like he has. Cash upfront.”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you agree. “Go ahead and pull her into the garage.”

He nods and exits the front door. You sigh and move into the garage, planning how to get him to talk about the other cars he has stolen and where he keeps them.

“Nice facility,” he compliments as he enters your garage. “Yeah, well, I’ve got a couple incredibly rare classics that I work on often, and those customers deserve the best.”

“Rarer than a 1953 Triumph T3?” the man asks, defensive and growing insulted.

“Oh, yeah. I’ve had a Model T in here, several European cars, including a T2, plus modern sports cars.”

“I’ve got a garage full of classics that make those seem like Hot Wheels.”

“I don’t know,” you murmur as you lift the hood of the Triumph. “I’ve had my hands in a 1931 Bugatti Type 41. I don’t think it gets much better.”

“My collection is worth a dozen of those outdated bugs!” he exclaims. “The Triumph, a Lamborghini Aventador with custom drivetrains, and I’d bet this car that you haven’t seen a Datsun 240z in mint condition with all-wheel drive. If your little dump of a garage could handle even that! My 25,000 square foot garage has cars you’ve never even heard of.”

“LAPD SWAT!” Hondo calls as he and his team enter the garage. “You’re under arrest for grand theft auto, carjacking, assault and battery, murder, and about fifteen more charges that I don’t have the patience to list. Now, when an arrest warrant goes through without a name, you know that’s a bad person.”

“Do not push him up against this car!” you demand as Hondo grabs his shoulder. “Toolbox, wall, anything other than a pristine T3.”

“Thanks for the help,” Hondo calls over his shoulder as he leads the thief out of the garage.

“It’s a shame such a pretty car has to go into evidence before it returns to its owner,” you tell Street.

“Yeah. Listen-“

“You didn’t hear a word I just said, did you?” you ask.

“Do you want to go out with me?” he asks.

You smile as you answer, “I’d love to.”

“Trust me, you’re gonna love this place,” you promise as you take Street’s hand. “All of the food is served in trays that look like classic cars.”

Street laughs as you bounce excitedly and uses your joined hands to pull you close.

“If you could buy one classic car, what would it be?” he asks.

You answer without hesitation before asking him the same question.

“Car? Probably an Aston Martin or a ‘60s Impala. Something sleek, classic, dangerously fast,” he answers. ��Motorcycle is still a Ducati.”

“You’d suit an Aston Martin or an Impala,” you agree. “Or you can just ride shotgun in mine.”

“I was born to drive,” Street says dramatically.

You laugh at him as you slide into a booth in the restaurant. Street follows, setting the tray of food before you as he sits beside you.

“Are all of our dates going to be car-themed?” Street asks.

“You’re the one who already planned our wedding, and I’ll go ahead and tell you now that I’m not firing Joel, so you tell me.”

“I don’t care what we do as long as you’re there,” Street decides.

You smile as you turn toward him, and when you raise your chin, Street kisses you quickly. You momentarily forget about the car-themed trays holding your food, too distracted by his affection to care about which model you got. But then he tells you he got the better one and you push him away from you to check. Street laughs as he pulls you close again, and you’ve never been happier to have so much in common with one person. Maybe there are two of you, but the balance and love Street brings is perfect.