#i hate swipe to text

[reserwrekt]

Yeah, "we try not to eat very much." This is my CareCredit account, what most vets take around here. My two cats have chronic health issues and today- my 12 year old, Zoe, failed jumped, and landed on her tail. It's either broken or sprained. I need to pick up more fluids and needles for her CKD. I don't get disability payment until the end or start of the month. V: @ kittyzibby (icon the same) next priority over the fluids and needles is food. I'm not kidding. Food prices are starving us.

[vanillabat99]

I hate the new image viewing on mobile. Why can I scroll to completely different posts. I just want to get a closer look at the image. Who thought that was a good idea????

[deadrlngers]

the gang meets the friend that dumped us 6 months ago bc he got a gf and said gf. 2 deads found in the southern italian countryside

[nexus-nebulae]

of course when i finally decide to use my left hand to rest my bad hand that wrist immediately starts hurting too

[lymtw]

Ex Bf Toji

Yes, you and Toji used to live together, but falling out, splitting up, breaking up, and any other phrase used to signify the separation of two lovers, typically means no contact, for however long. Toji did the moving and you stayed where you were for however long it took to feel okay with not seeing him every day.

He didn't cheat. Toji is many things, but he is not a cheater. He saw no reason to, just like he sees no reason to forget you.

He snuck three things of yours into his luggage, to really keep you with him, because you'll get them back at some point, anyway. He took one of your used shirts, an old photo of you and him, and a pair of your underwear. It'll take three days to get you back—he's sure of it. He won't give all of these things back to you in one go, nor will the three days be consecutive. He's smarter than that. They'll be spaced out as he sees fit. When you least expect it, he'll call or text you to let you know about something that he "accidentally" brought with him.

Truthfully, he felt like an old, abandoned dog, the first few weeks that he spent apart from you. He constantly checked his phone, hoping to receive messages from you. He knew it was delusional for him to expect you to text and call, yet he still waited. He moped around his motel room, unsure of what to do, because you were the one who usually planned everything. You were the one who pulled him along with you everywhere, hand in hand. He never lacked excitement or interest around you and he felt safe, but two months later, as he sits on the bed in the same room with the most unnecessary and foul patterns, there's a gross feeling in his gut. Things are too quiet and he absolutely hates it. The silence gives him headaches sometimes and he devastatingly misses your chaos in those moments. He's stuck thinking about you, alone. He doesn't even feel like leaving his room to buy beer to make him feel less or enhance his emotions—whichever comes first.

You know he got it bad for you, when he preferred to use your underwear over and over to get himself off then let some other girl touch him. A third month passed and he still longed for your touch so damn much. He felt like a horny teenager with the way he treasured the garment he stole from you and touched himself to pictures and videos on his phone. Pictures and videos of you. Dirty ones that you would send him through messages, followed by innocent hearts and winky faces, as well as his own personal collection of ones he took.

He misses your smell, your taste—god, you were everything. How could things get so bad that you ended up apart from each other? He could really use your attention right about now. You don't even need to touch him, your company would suffice.

Your voice comes through the speaker of Toji's phone, his name moaned out shamelessly loud as you cum, your phone's camera capturing the whole thing for him. His heart drops to the depths of his stomach at the sound and he ruins the fabric of your pretty, blue panties, deep moans of your name flowing freely.

Toji is just as shameless as you in that video. He swipes off the old video of you and scrolls back down to the bottom of your conversation. It's a good thing you haven't blocked his number.

Hey, I accidentally brought these with me.

[Images Attached: 1]

I'm in my room if you wanna come get them.

He's the devil for keeping his cum stain out of the picture, because had it been in there... He's not sure you would have accepted to come get your missing pair of underwear.

I'm off in 20. Room 723, right?

You got it, doll.

You hate that you know where he's staying. You hate that you don't tell him to stop calling you doll, but most of all, you hate that temptation got the better of you. This will be the second time you go see him because he has something of yours.

The first time was a month ago, and it was about a shirt. One that you didn't even know you were missing until he texted you about it getting mixed with his stuff. You didn't reply because two months into your break up still felt too soon to be in contact with him, but he called. He called and kept calling until you answered, and every time he called, your heart would start racing at the sight of his name displayed on your screen.

Your first mistake was answering. His voice made you nervous, in a first date kind of way, the way it was so calm and steady while talking. It was like he was calling on his way home to you from a job. You did your best to be mature about it, but your nervousness shone through with every 'uh...' and 'sure, that should be fine' instead of 'yes'.

When you went to go see him, your stomach swarmed with butterflies at the sight of those dark, fern-colored eyes. You were so nervous and Toji picked up on it because of how you made it your job to speed up the process of retrieving your shirt.

He invited you into his room and your second mistake was accepting his invite. You felt strange being alone with him again. Anxious? No. Uncomfortable? Not that, either. More like homesick.

Toji didn't make it any easier with the gaze he had set on you. He observed your face—your eyes, your nose, your lips. He couldn't stop himself from continuing down the path to your body. Your neck, your chest, your waist, your hips—all things he wanted to put his hands on. He could hear his heartbeat in his ears and he could feel his heart thrashing in his chest. Having you so close was a rush. His adrenaline skyrocketed every time you looked into his eyes. He couldn't focus. He felt jittery. At some point, he couldn't take it anymore. With a final stuttered breath, he reached for you, and pulled you into him for a kiss. An aggressive one, that left you breathless and conveyed just how badly he needed you.

You didn't know what was going on, but the feeling was far from unfamiliar. The feelings brought on by this spontaneous gesture, you've felt them more times than you can remember, each time so special. It's the reason for why you struggled to push him away. You struggled to maintain the boundaries that worked to prevent this very thing from happening. You were long gone the moment he put his hands on you— the moment he spun you towards his bed and laid you down. It was selfish on both ends. You were both lonely and touch deprived. It shouldn't have gone further than kissing and some over the clothes wandering of hands, but there was a clear deficit of self control, and because of it, your bodies familiarized themselves with one another, again.

You're now standing outside his door, there to pick up an old pair of underwear that you could have just asked him to throw out. You couldn't lie, part of you wanted to see him, just to make sure he's doing alright since the last time you were there. It's been a little over a month since then. Maybe he has a new girlfriend. Even if he doesn't, you don't want the situation to be misread. You're not together anymore and there's no chance of a reconciliation any time soon. It's just not meant to be, for now.

Toji opens the door and the butterflies start their fluttering in your guts all over again. You don't want to listen to them or your racing heart or the sudden throb you feel between your legs, but he's shirtless.

You clench your jaw to prevent yourself from drooling and remember that you're there for one thing only, and it's not for another fuck with your ex.

"You sure you still want them?" Toji asks, when the silence gets to be too much. He unfolds the blue material to reveal the creamy substance that litters the gusset.

"Uh... yeah, sure." You feel your face grow warm. "They'll be good again after a wash." You take them out of his hands and fold them back up before putting them in your bag.

He leans against the doorframe, eyeing you up and down. He's not being subtle, if he's even trying to be.

"I was thinking of you," he says, once again breaking the loud silence. "You know, when I got them dirty." He nods towards your bag.

"Oh. That's..." you stop mid sentence, unable to find a way to end it. "It's fine."

"Wanna come in? You hungry? Thirsty? Tired?"

"None of that. I should get going anyway. Still need to get groceries for the week." You do your best to avoid letting your eyes trail down his body and hope that he doesn't insist. It'll be so hard not to give in.

"I'm sure you have enough to last until tomorrow. One more day without a fully stocked fridge couldn't hurt."

You sigh. Why does he always have to make it so difficult to turn him down?

"A glass of water would be nice."

He hums, satisfied by your response. He takes a few steps into his room, allowing you to walk in. The second you shut the door, he's right behind you, his front flush against your back, pinning you to the door. He bombards you with his touch.

"Knew you'd come, mama. Fuck, I missed you." He's kissing your neck, pulling up your shirt to feel your soft skin beneath his rough palms.

"T-Toji, what are you doing? I'm not here for this." He ignores you and keeps kissing your skin. "We can't do this, again. Last time was..." He's stretching the collar of your shirt to expose your shoulder, where he presses more kisses. "I-It was the last time. We can't."

"We can," he counters, sliding his hand down the front of your pants and into your underwear. "I miss you, baby. Don't you miss me?" He purrs into your cheek.

A sharp gasp leaves you with a brush of his fingertips against your clit. Your hands go to the door to keep you stable.

"I'm not fucking anyone else. Are you?" He asks, watching your reactions to the languid motion of his fingers against your clit.

"Mm-mm," you hum, eyes shut as you shake your head against the door.

"Say it," he mutters, into your ear, pressing his lips against the spot beneath it. His free hand rides up your torso, going up towards your chest. It goes beneath your bra to grope at your breasts.

"Fuck, Toji... No, I'm not sleeping around."

"Yeah? That's good. I'm glad."

"You were an asshole," you say, your voice low. "I shouldn't even be l-letting you touch me." You feel like you're crumbling. You're trapped between him and the door, as well as stuck between pleasure and rationality.

"You know i'm sorry, and you're an angel for letting me touch you after so long. Don't run off so fast like you did last time." His lips go back to devouring the skin of your neck, littering it with marks that will make you think of this moment when you look in a mirror.

"F-Fuck, i'm gonna cum. Gonna-"

Your legs go wobbly and you press your hands more firmly against the door to try and hold yourself up. Toji's arm tightens around you, supporting you as he works you through the intensity of your orgasm. Your whimpers and moans are heaven sent. So sweet and entirely dedicated to him.

"Come on," he mumbles, pulling you up straight, onto your unsteady legs. He turns you around so that he can hoist you up by the backs of your thighs, and as if on instinct, you wrap around him. Your arms are wrapped around his neck, your legs around his waist. It's so strange to feel his warm, bare skin against you, again. Your face is buried into the crook of his neck, like when he would pick your sleeping body up from the couch and carry you to bed.

He sets you down and pulls your shoes off, throwing them somewhere in the room, carelessly. With impatient breaths, he's back on you again, kissing you, and feeling up the body he grew accustomed to holding, but was now deprived of.

"Fuck." He pauses. "Take it all off, baby." He presses chaste kisses onto your lips as he pushes your shirt up, further directing you to undress yourself.

You feel ridiculous for having followed his directions so unquestioningly, but there you are, naked for his eyes, hands, and mouth.

"What are you doing?" Toji asks, confused at the sight of you on your stomach, your face buried in the pillow.

You turn your head to the side, to not muffle your words. "I don't wanna look at you."

"Why's that?" He traces your spine with his fingers, lidded eyes following the invisible trail. "Don't tell me you're still feeling guilty over last time."

You shake your head, wordlessly. You have nothing simple and quick to respond with.

"I wanna look at your pretty face."

You shake your head, again, and he knows he's going to have to melt away your stubbornness. You're not like this. You know he doesn't fuck you like this, ever. It's the first unfamiliar thing to occur since you started talking and since you agreed to meet up and it doesn't sit well with him.

His hands start at your hips and ride up your waist, merging onto your back, going up towards your shoulder blades. He knows of your weakness for when he says things straight into your ear. He has confirmation of this from just a couple minutes ago, when he had you against the door. It brings out a range of emotions from you, but ultimately, it gets you to mellow down a little.

"Let me love on you properly, mama," he starts. Your heart races at the feeling of his breath against your ear. You're throbbing with every deep-voiced mumble and his weight on you again. "Wanna take care of you, pretty girl. Must be so tired after a long day, huh?"

You sigh, releasing some of the built up tension in your body and nod.

"Yeah... I know, doll. Let me make it better."

Just like old times. You miss those days when your schedules aligned and you got to meet at home once you both finished work. It was always a race to see who got there first, but there was never an actual winner when the first thing you would do was shower together. Toji went in before you every time to rinse off the nastier splotches that littered his skin and you joined in on his mark. All the weariness and tension melted away when the water ran down your bodies. These were moments where you were so in love with him. Time slowed down through pressurized squeezes of his rough hands on your weary, smaller muscles, and your softer hands on his more defined and prominent, yet, still aching ones. There were also those delirious, casual conversations that bounced between being so tired that you could sleep together through the rest of the day, but also being so hungry that you could eat a family pack dinner, together in one sitting.

That is why you don't want to look at him. All those memories will come back, again, at the sight of his handsome face. You miss him, too. Your love for him hasn't been completely disposed of, but there's a reason for why you're in his room and not your shared home. Your schedules were unaligned for too long. You barely ever saw each other. You only saw him for brief periods of time in the morning and at night and your days off didn't coincide with his. Date nights became a rarity. Maybe once every couple weeks, you would go out to a place with a peaceful and quiet atmosphere, so that you could get a few hours to remember that you still love each other. Suddenly, he has spare time and it's so hard to deny him when he wants to spend it with you.

"Baby, please," he says, following his words with a kiss to your temple. You let out a deep breath and take a second before you start wiggling under his weight. He scoots off of you and allows you to do what you need to do. Once you're on your back, he wastes no time crawling onto you, again, to begin his worshipping of you.

That warm feeling you used to get around him is slowly seeping back in with every kiss he plants on your face and your neck. The way his hands smoothly glide over your body strangely makes you think of more aggressive times, when he would be so impatient, handling you so swiftly, just wanting to mold his body into yours. The scratches and crescent indentations his blunt nails would leave on your skin from the intensity of it all—you can't forget them.

He nears your soft, warm, blank chest. It's not like he didn't trust your word, but now he has visual evidence of how you weren't lying about not sleeping around. If things hadn't fallen apart between you and him, your chest would be littered with his fading marks on it. You're long due for a round of semi-permanent kisses.

His lips mouth at your chest, wet kisses being spread all over it. You instinctively let one of your hands come up to the back of his head, your fingers coursing through the dark locks of hair. He tries not to react so desperately to the feeling, but your touch is addicting. He doesn't want you to stop. No one has touched him like this since you and it really shows. Between the endless contact of his lips on your skin, layered with soft sighs and the constant caressing of your body, you can tell he's just grateful for being able to have you like this, again.

"You miss my chest?" You ask, acknowledging the amount of time he's spent on the area. He's been leaving marks left and right, between your breasts, on them and beneath them, too.

"All of you, not just your chest," Toji responds, before latching his lips onto one of your nipples. Your other one is handled by his fingers until he gives it a turn in his mouth, his fingers going to the one he just released. He loves being able to feel how your chest puffs and dips with every breath, and how it stutters with the swirling of his tongue over your buds.

"Toji," you call, breathily. Your hand lowers to the nape of his neck, meeting the tips of his hair that graze it.

He releases your breast with a quiet pop, pressing one more kiss to the glistening peak before tending to your call of his name.

"I know, doll. Feeling sensitive?" You nod, in response and he cracks a grin. "It has been a while... and I don't blame you, but you don't answer the phone enough." His kisses start, again, down your body—starting between your breasts and traveling down your abdomen. His lips paint your stomach, unintentional heart resembling marks formed through short-lived stinging sensations. "Can't do this for you if you don't pick up the phone. Just for a few minutes," he purrs, kissing above your navel. His hands cup around your hips, his thumbs massaging the area while he trails his mouth even lower down your body. "And if you don't wanna hear my voice, just answer my messages, mama. It's so fucking simple to get me next to you."

You shudder when his breath fans over your pelvis. Goosebumps rise over your skin all over again and your heart drops when green, lust filled eyes hold your gaze, pinning you down. You squirm beneath his unwavering attention, losing the eye contact battle when his hand goes to your thigh. You see the faintest sign of a smug grin once his eyes refocus on your body.

"How'd you get this gnarly bruise?" He asks, lightly running his fingers over a purplish yellow splotch on the lower part of your outer thigh.

"I ran into the corner of a table. I was in a rush."

He hums, disapproving of your reason, but nonetheless leans forward to kiss it. It brings him back to when he would walk into a room right on time to catch you groaning in pain and flipping off the coffee table while muttering curses, after ramming your knee into the corner of it, or when you would open your mouth in a silent scream after knocking your elbow into something and hitting your funny bone. He really considered putting guards on all the corners in the house, because of the constant bruises he found on your pretty skin.

"You gotta be more careful, doll," he says, kissing the blemish once more before continuing up towards your inner thighs. "Can't have you wearing this pretty body down with so many bumps." His breath grazes the space between your thighs, again. His attention goes from your glistening cunt, to your unsteady chest, before landing on that needy expression on your face that makes his cock twitch.

"You look so pretty." He drags his fingertips through the wetness of your slit, watching the adorable way your stomach quivers at the contact. "So wet over the way I kiss you up," he says, hypnotized by the way your slick connects his fingers to you with every up and down gliding motion. "You're precious, ma. Look at that... You're drooling so much, already." He drags a knuckle through your slit.

"F-Fuck." You shudder beneath his teasing touch. "Please. Toji-" you cut yourself off with a moan when his mouth attaches itself to your throbbing clit and his middle finger slowly sinks into your slick hole. Your thighs twitch in Toji's hold, the pleasure intense with all the fresh stimulation offered by him.

"Sweet as ever," he murmurs, pulling his finger out of your now twitching hole, to suck your juices off. He watches your face contort as two fingers stretch you out, now. Whimpers and moans are released with every curl of his fingers and with his tongue going back to your clit, you can't help all the squirming you're doing. Toji knows your body as well as he knows his own. Those hips rolling against the mattress and your back arching is a sign of your quickly approaching release. The fact that it's happening so fast is endearing to him. You really haven't been touched in a while and he loves being the only one you've allowed to replenish your level of physical intimacy.

You don't even warn him when you cum. Your notice is a sharp gasp, followed by the sweetest moans he's ever heard. Your overload of wetness coated his fingers and dripped onto his palm. Toji watched through dark, lidded eyes, as your chest heaved and your brows pinched with pleasure. Your bitten up lips parted to release heavy breaths and whines of satisfaction. He stopped before the overstimulation could make its way to you, pulling his cum coated fingers out of you and lifting his mouth from your clit.

While he did enjoy being a little mean and overstimulating you back when you were a couple, he knew this was not a moment for that. He said he was going to love on you and he planned to follow through with that.

"Fuck." You sigh, extending your arms above your head, before stretching your body. You groan as your chest rises and your back arches before releasing the tension, a giggle homing into Toji's ears once you settle again. Within seconds, he's face to face with you again, his body invading the vacant space between your legs. His hands go to your wrists, crossing them above your head.

"What are you giggling about?" His nose is centimeters from bumping into yours.

You giggle even more at his proximity and the sly smirk that plays on his lips. "Mm... just came all over your fingers within like two minutes," you mumble.

"You did, huh?" He says, squeezing your wrists affectionately.

"Mhm," you hum.

"That still doesn't break the record," he adds.

"No... It doesn't." You say, through a laugh.

A tension-riddled silence follows, longing looks exchanged during the stillness of the moment. Toji uses his control to lean forward the rest of the way to kiss you. The kiss is soft and slow, despite the way he keeps your wrists pinned, a visual that shows your surrender to him.

He hums against your lips, breaking the lip lock with a quiet smack. "Can I put it in?" He asks, leaning back to see your response.

"Yeah, okay," you say, blushing, but nodding to double confirm.

He releases you so he can remove his boxers and finally release his aching cock from its confines. He's been hard this entire time, but your needs were put ahead of his because, like the last time, he initiated this.

Toji sighs, feeling his cock throb and twitch at the thought of being in your incomparably soft and warm walls, in just a few seconds. As he drags his tip along your slit, he can't help but think about how this would be the first time he has sex since you last let him touch you, a month ago. He might cum as quickly as you did, maybe even quicker.

He keeps a hand on your stomach, rubbing as an act of comfort, as his other hand guides his tip into your hole. He pushes in, keeping his focus on you as he slowly feeds his length into you.

"Fuck, doll. Doing so well. Almost there."

You never get used to the initial stretch. It's not unbearable and you know it's worth it, so you deal with the short amount of discomfort.

"Oh fuck, it's in," he says, mentally relieved that he didn't cum early. You both let out sighs.

After a couple minutes of getting comfortable and picking up a gentle pace, things were good. Quiet sounds of pleasure took over the room. This time isn't as aggressive as the time before. Last time, things happened in a flash. One moment you were just talking, the next you were being fucked incoherent, and before you knew it, you were getting dressed and leaving Toji's room with the most guilty feelings.

This wasn't that, at all. He wasn't slamming his hips into yours or pinching your waist between his hands. His thrusts were paced, like he wanted this to last a while, and he touched you with the gentleness of someone who, wholeheartedly, isn't over you. Someone who still holds an immense amount of love for you.

You're not faring any better, than him. You find yourself wanting to bring him closer. You truly want him all over you. The second you extend your arms towards Toji, he's leaning closer towards you so you can touch him. Your hands make contact with his shoulders and he gets immediate goosebumps. He's working to suppress the groan that's paired with the chills that run down his spine, when he looks at you from this proximity. You let your hands glide up to the nape of his neck and you pull him into you for a kiss. Your cunt flutters around him when his lips move against yours in synchrony, his hips continuing their languid pace. His kisses always leave you breathless, so you end up having to be the first to bail, when you can't compete with his lung capacity. He continues kissing your face, groans released into your cheek and jaw, while you gasp and whimper over his gentle precision.

"T-Toji... Toji- Fuck."

He hums into your neck, his lips brushing against it immediately after. "Miss you... so... fucking much," he pants. "Please..." his voice lowers, and his lips move towards your ear. "Please, baby."

His arms cage you in and you feel smothered by him, like you're drowning in him. He's all you know in this moment. His body, his voice, his touch, his smell. All you can do is feel as he thrusts into you, repeatedly reaching that part within you that renders you the most perfectly behaved angel for him. He can feel the way your chest jolts with every hitch of your breath. He can hear your stifled hiccups up close, as he murmurs needy words into your ear.

"You..." he pants, a subtle groan caught by your ears. "You heard me, right, pretty girl?" He presses a kiss to your earlobe, awaiting your response. You nod, a sultry hum being the only sound you manage to let out. You clench around him, briefly, but long enough for his hips to stutter. "Fuck..." he sighs, burying his face into your neck, again. His hips pick up their pace a little, luring a sharp gasp and a moan out of you. "I-I need you back with me. Miss you lots," he says, muffled by the delicate skin he nibbles on.

"I-I know. I know, Toji. You're not the only one."

"So fucking come back to me, already. What are you doing?"

"Gonna cum. I'm gonna cum," you blurt, writhing beneath him.

"Keep squeezing me like that and you're gonna make me cum," he grunts.

"T-Toji, please," you whimper, the sensation of your nearing orgasm growing stronger. "Toji," you cry out once more, before your wetness gushes out, coating his unrelenting cock.

"Shit," he hisses. He barely has time to watch you when he's on the verge of spewing into you with every clench of your velvety walls. A few seconds pass, and with stuttering hips, a tensed abdomen, and gritted out, breathy curses, he fills you up with his cum. Ragged breaths are released into the air, his chest rapidly rising and falling with every inhale and exhale. He pulls away from you, his eyes glued to you as you work on recomposing yourself.

You're lucent in his eyes. The layer of sweat that coats your neck brings attention to the harsh marks he left on your previously untraced skin. The prettiest blush remains on your face, and those slightly parted lips look so appetizing. The sight is hauntingly beautiful.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer," you tease, feeling him still silently watching you.

He snickers. "You're gonna let me take a picture of you like this?"

"Nope. I was kidding," you say, smiling as you sit up. Toji catches you eyeing your pile of clothes and speaks up before you start reaching for it.

"Can you not get dressed, yet? Stay a little while, yeah?"

Your heart drops at the question. You tell yourself over and over that you won't be spending the night with him, in an attempt to convince yourself that after the worst that can be done with an ex has already been done, this is nothing to worry about. What's another hour spent lying next to him in his bed?

You thought that's all you would be doing together, but then you ended up showering together. His attempt to help you get cleaned up made you crave another round, which he happily indulged in. After that was when you finally lied in bed together and you really didn't want to leave by the end of it all. It was already nighttime and you had gotten so comfortable, almost forgetting that you weren't home with him. Everything smelled like Toji, even you. He kept you in his arms as you discussed the future of things between you two. A weight was lifted off his shoulders when you implied that there's still a chance.

You did decide to drive home that night and when you got there, you sat in your car, just thinking about what happened, for way too long.

The third and final day came a some weeks later. You got better at responding to Toji's messages and his phone calls. Things seemed like they were rekindling between you two.

Hey, can you come see me today?

I'm not in the mood for sex, if that's what you want me there for.

You know that's not the only reason I want you. Come over.

I won't touch you if you don't want me to.

Say something.

Respond.

Oh so you don't want me to get there safe? I'm. DRIVING.

Fuck, doll. Scaring me for nothing. Drive safe.

On the drive to his room, you thought about the conversations you've had with Toji on the phone, these past weeks. Some were short and straight to the point, while others didn't allow you to put your phone down for more than three minutes. His indirectness was usually the cause of longer conversations. He didn't want to seem overbearing, so instead of saying he missed you, he would ask if you had eaten. Instead of saying he missed spending leisurely time with you, he would let you know that that one cheesy movie you like is playing on one of the TV channels.

It was sweet until nighttime came and the messages started straying from innocent longing. Conversations where he was telling you about how much he missed sleeping next to you, turned into him saying that he couldn't sleep because he wasn't holding your chest and smelling your hair. Minutes later when your phone rang, you panicked. You wanted to hear his voice, but you knew better than to try and hold an innocent conversation with him when the messages that preceded the call weren't innocent. You let the phone ring for a few seconds, but the second you heard him, you felt so many things. His voice was so deep and he sounded tired and your heart was beating way too fast. You were feeling things that contradicted everything that made you hesitant to answer his call. With every word he spoke, your mind flooded with sinful thoughts that made the space between your legs viciously throb. Maybe you were glad he was feeling this way from the start, because his voice, his words, and the sounds he made alike, all ended up getting you there.

Muscle memory got you to Toji. You were zoned out the entire time, remembering those texts between you and him, that had you giggling to yourself like when you first started dating. You were in shock when you turned into the parking lot, realizing that your mind was so occupied with Toji, that the drive seemed shorter. You walked right up to the door with the, now familiar, bold 723 on it. A few seconds went by before the door opened. Toji held the door open for you shutting it when you made it into his room.

The first thing you noticed was that he had tidied up quite a bit. It almost seemed like he had just arrived to the room, no clothes on the floor or empty food containers on the counters, but his bed wasn't made and his drawers had unfolded clothes hanging out of them. He's been like this since you lived together. It's just a habit that refuses to die.

"You made a copy of this photo?" You ask, picking up the picture frame that rests on his nightstand. You both looked annoyed in the picture. The photographer kept pestering you to get your picture taken on your date and you had politely declined so many times, but he kept insisting, so you and Toji decided to just get it over with. The photographer said 'smile', and he laughed nervously when you both kept a straight face. He gave up and snapped the picture like that.

"Nah, that's the original. It followed me here, like your clothes."

You snicker, eyes still focused on the way Toji put his arm around you in the picture. "Clothes seem a little more reasonable to haul along by accident, but this was in a box I keep hidden on the top shelf of the closet."

"It's not really hidden if I found it so easily."

"People who don't snoop around wouldn't find it as quickly."

His hands go to his pockets. The urge he feels to hug you from behind to look at the picture with you, is heavy. "It's not snooping if we used to share the closet. When I was packing my stuff, I tried not to leave anything behind, so of course I was gonna check every crevice of the house."

You put the picture down and turned to look at him.

"That was pretty selfish of you. Taking my things, but not leaving a scrap of yours behind."

"Yeah? That was selfish of me?" He grins. "You wanted me to leave something behind?"

"At least a button or... I don't know, one of your sweaters."

"A button or a sweater." He hums like he's in thought. "That's a big jump, doll." He sits down on the edge of his bed with a sigh, a small lump of his blanket flattened by his weight.

"We made a big jump, Toji. One minute we were doing stupid shit like that." Your hand aims towards the picture of you and him. "The next..." you take a deep breath and your brows pinch slightly. You don't want to get emotional. Just thinking about crying in front of him makes you anxious.

His eyes soften, slightly. The mood has shifted and you're tense. It's not how he thought this would go, but he's going to try and make it better anyway. This is it. You have to reconcile by the end of the day.

He pats the spot next to him on the bed, successfully bringing you closer, even if you were off from where he wanted you.

"What we did was hard," you start, again. "You think I didn't miss you as soon as you left home? Or that I was living happily without you, when I didn't answer your messages or calls?" You shake your head. You're trying to hold back your more distracting emotions, but your eyes are starting to feel watery. "No. My head hurt for so long, I didn't want to see anybody, and the worst part was that I couldn't stop thinking of you. It was the epitome of a crushing break up... and I needed you, but I wasn't sure if you would be around. It's what tore us apart in the first place."

Silence fills the room. You feel dumb for spilling your heart out like that. You fold your hands in your lap and hope Toji has something to say in response to your word vomit. Anything, at this point, to slaughter the increasingly, discomforting stillness in the room that is making you want to cry even more.

"I didn't know you missed me, 'til you started meeting me here." He turns his head to look at you. You're still looking down at your lap, fidgeting with your folded hands.

"Yeah, that's not something you say to someone who just became your ex. It would have made things harder on us."

There's another gap of silence while Toji calculates his words. Watching you continue your anxious mannerisms always made him nervous before. It's no different now.

"What if I said I have time for you, now?" He keeps his eyes on you, hoping to see a glint of light in your expression. "Things can go back to the way they were before."

"That sounds good and all, but will things stay that way when we start getting comfortable again? Say... a month from now?" He immediately nods in response. "How about three months from now? My days off are always gonna be the same, and yours-"

"I'll mute Shiu on your days off. No jobs on those days."

You look at him, unfolding your hands. You're not as nervous anymore, now that the talking is back and forth. "You always make exceptions. You've done it before, Toji, and I just don't want to feel second to your work, again. It's the only thing I kept myself out of when it came to you, because I know how... abnormal it is, and look where that got us."

"Listen, i'm serious about making time for you. I've been doing pretty good so far, don't you think?"

He has been. Otherwise you'd be spending your day off cleaning your place and figuring out what to make for your dinner for one. You were off the day before, too, and he called you halfway through the day, on his way back to his room.

"Yeah. I guess you are doing a lot better," you admit.

"Good enough to give it another go?"

You're the one who goes quiet this time, uncertainty coursing through your mind. You really want things to work, but it's scary. Words and these little check ins are all you can go off of, for now. You don't know how it'll be if you officially get back together.

You nod. "I think so. It's been a few months, now. Things do seem better."

He slowly released the breath he held in after asking the question. "Really? You mean that?"

"I do." You give him a soft smile that he feels he hasn't seen in so long. He can feel his heart accelerating, like a kid being returned their favorite toy after being grounded.

"Can you show me you mean it?"

"How?"

"You're sitting so far from me. Come closer," he says, patting his thigh.

"What?" You laugh. He has to be joking. You're literally two feet away from him.

"Come on. Sit with me."

He doesn't seem to be letting go of this, so you scoot even closer to him. With the assistance of his hands on your hips, he uses them as leverage to lift you onto his lap, to bring you as close to him as he can. He looks you straight in the eyes, his green ones so brilliant and warm, you would think he's about to profess his love for you for the first time.

"You got me. What is it, Toji?" You're blushing due to the gesture, a reaction that makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside.

In one swift movement, his face is buried in your chest, his bulky arms lowered to wrap around your waist. Your eyes slightly widen at the spontaneity of the gesture, instantly softening when he starts talking.

"I felt like I was going insane, mama. I didn't wanna go." He pauses, the warm scent of your perfume working to calm him down. The back of your shirt is tightly wound around his hands. You can feel cool air against the slivers of exposed skin—a contrast to the warmth of his breath on your chest—but you hold him close. "Let me come home or stay here, just don't stray from me."

The mood shifted, again. He felt small and vulnerable, but he needed you to understand that he had feelings about leaving, too. Had things gone the way he planned them in his head, he wouldn't be uttering his sentiments into your chest. You would be watching a movie together, while cuddling and kissing, and overall, making up for the deep affection that was missed during this period of separation, but you have a strange way of making him want to be entirely honest with you.

You cover him up while he clears his mind. This is between you and him. Nothing else matters when it's Toji rambling on about how you've ruined solitary life for him. He can't do it anymore and you're entirely to blame, because you put him on to your hugs and kisses, and you tell him all the things he needs to hear and sleeping is entirely possible with you. He's addicted to you, and it's not hurting anyone, so he can't find a reason to give you up.

You sat in that position for a few minutes. Silence returned, but instead of it being awkward and uncomfortable, it was entirely welcomed. Toji was so comfortable. He could have fallen asleep like that, but you shifted in his lap and pulled him out of his idle state. He was entirely at ease when he lifted his gaze to look at you. Your expression was gentle on his eyes, unspoken forgiveness so clear.

"Come home, tomorrow. No, today. I was thinking about how you're not packed and you still have things scattered. I can help you get it all-"

He cuts off your rambling with a kiss, then another, and then one more. "Nah, i'll come back for my things, tomorrow. I just wanna go home with you, ma."

[lqvesoph]

Puppy Love || LN4

lando norris x fem!reader

summary: Lando came home from his ‘best day at work’ and you take matters into your own hands to reunite the little puppy and your boyfriend

a/n: I couldn’t resist writing something about this bc that video has me in a chokehold

masterlist | taglist

"Baby, you won’t believe what just happened!!", your boyfriend exclaimed as he opened the door to your shared apartment.

You chuckled, moving out of the kitchen where you were making dinner to greet him in the hallway.

"Look! Oh my god!", he called, pulling out his phone and showing you a picture of him sitting on a chair, with an adorable little puppy in his arms. Your eyes widened. "Oh, Lan, that’s so cute!", you said, putting your hand in front of your mouth.

"I know right??", he spoke excitedly, swiping through his gallery to show you the other pictures. "Look! It just said down in my lap", he said, pressing play on a video.

"Lando, she’s adorable!", you muttered. "Yeah", he smiled. "Shame I can’t keep her." "She really did look incredibly comfortable on you", you agreed and looked up to find a sad smile on Lando’s face and put your hand on his cheek.

"Hey, cheer up", you whispered, pulling him in for a kiss.

"Soo, what’s for dinner?", Lando asked after pulling away, a slightly happier smile gracing his face now.

*~*~*

Later that night, you couldn’t stop thinking about that video Lando showed you. So, as quietly as you could you sat up in your shared bed and pulled out your laptop, searching for the shelter that he’d told you about.

You looked through the website and found the small dog. "Lia, three months old", you read as you clicked through the pictures.

Your fingered hovered over the blue button, hesitating for a second but one look at the sleeping boy beside you, gave you the reassurance you needed. As quietly as you could you closed the laptop and went back to sleep.

The next morning Lando was up before you, as usual. You found him in his sweaty training clothes in the kitchen, drinking a glass of water.

"Good morning", you greeted him, standing in the door and leaned against it. "Oh hey", he called, walking over and pressing a quick kiss to your lips. You scrunched your nose.

Lando rolled his eyes before giving you another peck. "I know, I’ll shower", he chuckled, walking past you towards the bathroom.

"Lan, I wanted to tell you that I’m flying to the UK for today", you called, making the boy stop in his tracks. "Why?", he questioned, turning around. You panicked for a second, not knowing what to tell him without revealing your surprise.

"Uhm, Mum wanted to go shopping together", you lied, slapping yourself internally. Lando frowned. "Uh, okay? I’m coming with you, when are we leaving?", he wanted to know.

"No no, you have your dinner with Zak and that businessman tonight and I’ll probably will sleep at my parents’", you quickly waved it off. Lando nodded, still eying you strangely. "Well, okay then. Let me shower and then I can drive you to the airport", he muttered, before turning around to enter the bathroom.

You let out a sigh, hating yourself for not telling Lando the whole truth but reminding yourself that his face tonight will he the greatest reward.

*~*~*

You touched down in Heathrow around 1pm, quickly texting Lando that you had arrived before rushing out of the airport to find a taxi that would take you to Battersea.

In front of the Dog’s and Cat’s home you stepped out, thanking and paying the driver before making your way to the door.

"Hi, I’m Y/n Y/l/n", you told the woman at the reception. "I made an online appointment yesterday to meet with a little puppy." The brunette smiled and nodded. "Let me check for a second. Ah, yes, just down the corridor and the second door to your left. Mia should be waiting for you there", she said, whereupon you thanked her and walked down to where she had described.

You knocked on the door and waited for Mia to call, but instead she opened the door, the same warm smile on her lips as the receptionist.

"Hi, you must be Miss Y/l/n, nice to meet you!", she greeted you, reaching a hand out for you to shake. "Nice to meet you too, and please call me Y/n", you replied, following her into the room.

"So, you are here for Lia, right?", she smiled as you walked closer to the play area of about five puppies. She then took one puppy with white and brown fur out of the area.

"Oh my god, she’s even more adorable in person", you muttered as the woman placed the puppy in your arms. "Heyy, little one", you whispered, softly petting her back.

"She really seems to like you", Mia noted and nodded towards the puppy who had closed her eyes and snuggled into your arms. "Can I keep her?", you asked softly. "We gotta go over some documents first but then, sure", Mia smiled and showed you to her office.

"Okay, first of all, do you live with anyone because if you do we need their permission as well", she stated and you looked up. "Yes, I do, I live with my boyfriend in Monaco. Actually, he met the little one yesterday at work", you chuckled.

Mia stopped writing and looked at her questioningly. "Excuse me?"

"Lando Norris, you recently signed a cooperation with McLaren and he came home yesterday telling me all about that little surprise you did for him and even showed me a few videos of Lia and I wanted to surprise him with this", you explained. First Mia looked at you rather skeptical, then she started typing on her computer.

"Okay, I guess you are telling the truth", she mumbled, turning around to show you pictures of Lando and you in the paddock, the search being ‘Lando Norris Girlfriend’. You tried to hide your chuckle but failed.

"I’m sorry but the possibility of you being a crazy fan is pretty high, I didn’t mean to insult you", she immediately apologized but you waved her off. "No, it’s fine. I understand", you chuckled as she blinked a few times.

"Okay, back to the questions. I guess you have the permission of your partner. Then Monaco you said?", she moved on. You nodded. "She’d have a little play buddy in Leo, a friend’s dog, and I’m sure Alex and Charles would be happy to help us with everything in the beginning", you explained.

You went over a few more details such as allergies and vet check ups. "Okay, last one is financial security but I guess that won’t be a problem", she chuckled and if you weren’t so focused on Lia you’d have been slightly offended at her judgmental tone.

She pushed the documents over the table for you to sign and watched as you scribble your name on the line.

"Then I am happy to tell you, you have just adopted a dog", she smiled and handed you her hand to shake.

You said goodbye to her, quickly asking where the next pet shop was to get the necessary things.

Then you made your way outside again, the small puppy in your arms. "Okay, little one, let’s go shopping and then we can go home and surprise your new daddy", you whispered, gently petting her head.

Your flight back home was scheduled to arrive at 8pm, from where you then took a taxi back to Monaco.

"Welcome home, Lia", you muttered, letting her down as you closed the front door. You could tell she was curious but careful at the same time, always keeping close to you.

You placed your bag with dog food, some bowls and toys on the kitchen counter and then went to sit down on the couch and Lia immediately jumped up to cuddle into your arms again, which made you chuckle.

About two hours later you heard a key in the door and Lando entering the apartment. You decided not to say anything and simply wait until he would come into the living room, although the lights of the TV still filled the room.

"Hello?", Lando asked. "Is anyone there?" Cautiously he entered the living room, placing a hand on his heart when he saw it was only you sitting there.

"Jesus, baby, I thought there was someone in our home!", he called. "I thought you said you’re only coming back tomorrow"

"Well…", you giggled and then lifted your arm to reveal the sleeping puppy on your arm. Lando’s eyes widened, scanning the little dog.

"Wha-", he muttered perplexed. "Meet little Lia. Again", you added giggling. "You- is- is that the puppy from Battersea?", he stuttered, sitting down next to you. You nodded with a smile.

"Wha- How- Did you fly to England just to-", he continued stammering, making you reach for his hand. "She loved you and you can’t fool me and tell me you didn’t feel the same. And about all the traveling, I can take care of her when I’m not coming to race weekends, Alex does the same. And she even has a little play buddy in Leo", you told him, interwinding your fingers.

"I love you so much, baby", he whispered and pulled you into a kiss. A small high pitched bark interrupted you and you pulled apart.

"Heyy, princess", Lando whispered, laying down so his head was level with the puppy in your arms. Lia got up and carefully sniffed Lando, probably recognizing his scent from just two days ago as she then cuddled up next to him.

You two laughed and petted her small body.

"She’s the cutest", you noted with a smile. "And you’re the best", Lando smirked up at you. "My two girls!"

yourinstagram

tagged: landonorris

liked by: landonorris, alexandrasaintmleux, oscarpiastri and 1.526.182 others

yourinstagram: Welcome home little Lia💞

comments:

landonorris: my girlssss

alexandrasaintmleux: Omg I can’t wait for playdates!!

yourinstagram: Yessss omggg, lets leave the boys at home then

landonorris: Hey!

alexandrasaintmleux: Ofc

charlesleclerc: Hey!

lilyzneimer: The cutest omg!!

mclaren: So excited to meet the little girl

fan: Omg how cute is that!!

fan: The dog on the wheel lmaooo

fan: Already coming for Lando’s seat

> liked by: yourinstagram

load more comments

landonorris

tagged: yourinstagram

liked by: yourinstagram, mclaren, oscarpiastri and 2.628.529 others

landonorris: Newest member of the fam

comments:

yourinstagram: girl dad🩷

landonorris: Yessss

charlesleclerc: Lets go play paddle when the girls leave us…

landonorris: GREAT idea

carlossainz: I wanna meet her asap!!

oscarpiastri: Why couldn’t you get a cat…

landonorris: bc dogs are superior, duh

mclaren: Newest member of Mclaren🧡

> liked by landonorris

fan: OMG is that the dog from that video??

fan: WAIT YOU ARE ONTO SOMETHING

fan: I think so, yes

> liked by yourinstagram

fan: GIRL DAD LANDO NORRIS

load more comments

[eddiesxangel]

The Nanny | E.M x f!reader

Anon requested :I have an idea for a smut for Eddie. Okay, so the reader is like a babysitter for Eddie, so the reader takes a video of playing with Eddie’s kid and sends it to him. When Eddie watches the video, however, Eventually, his eyes are only on the reader; he becomes attracted to the reader and gets stiff. But the reader did this on purpose for that reason, and so when Eddie gets home, his kid is asleep, and it’s just him and the reader, and they start to get intimate, and one thing leads to another …

Wc: 2.9k

Cw: smut, oral (f&m receving), p in v, unprotected sex, pull and pray

When you got the job about a year ago, you were out of school and desperate for a full-time job to pay the bills. You saw his ad for a live-in Nanny in the paper and jumped at the opportunity.

When you started this nannying business, you never thought you would fall for the handsome dad who hired you.

The family you learned was a father and daughter. Eddie was a widower. His wife had died five years previously, and he had a seven-year-old little girl.

Eddie was a dedicated manager and owner of a construction company in town. His hours were unpredictable, so he asked for your help getting his daughter, Charlotte, ready for school in the early mornings and picking her up. To accommodate your assistance, Eddie has constructed a small house in his backyard for you to stay in, providing you with your own space.

During the year you spent with Charlotte, you formed a deep bond with her, and she became your favourite person. You both shared numerous activities, such as shopping, getting your nails done, having sleepovers, and attending her dance classes.

You supported her at every recital and never missed her soccer games, even when Eddie couldn't attend. Your time with Charlotte became an irreplaceable part of your life.

Your relationship with Eddie grew as the year went on. You became more attracted to him. He was so charming, funny, and handsome. He made you feel welcomed like you were part of the family—the family you wished was real.

Eddie has been away for the last few days; he will be home this evening, but you still wanted to send him some updates about Charlotte. You sent him a video of you guys at the community pool. She loved swimming, and you couldn’t help but want to flirt. Did you wear this specific bathing suit so he would see it? Yes. You can’t help but want to get his attention, to have him look at you the way you look at him.

You were on the splash pad, and thought it would be cute to show a video of you and Charlotte running through the sprinkler. You set up your phone against the wall for balance and click record. You and her squealed as the water was cold on your bare skin. You were smiling and laughing together the whole time. You hoped Eddie found it cute…

Eddie was in the airport lounge when he received a notification on his phone. He smiled when he saw that your contact had disrupted his podcast.

He paused his show and swiped to see what you had sent him. The video began with a scene of Charlotte, soaked and jumping up and down, with her two missing front teeth visible. Eddie smirked at the sight. He loved his baby; he missed her so much. The video continues, and when you come into the shot, his eyes widen as he watches you run toward Charlotte. His eyes can't help but stare. Your ass bounced as you ran back towards his daughter; your tight bathing suit clung to your every curve. The sight of your body so exposed, your wet skin glistening in the sun, Eddie couldn’t help but feel his excitement start to grow.

You giggled and laughed as you picked her up and ran with her through the water. Your smile was so genuine, and Eddie hated that he had developed an attraction to you other than liking your personality.

When the video finished, you sent another text, but this time, it was not what Eddie had expected. When he clicked back to the chat, he almost dropped his phone because he was so shocked. Right under the wholesome video of you and Charlotte was a picture of you lying on your bed, hand draped across your naked chest.

He was looking around. To make sure nobody else saw what he was looking at, he opened the photo, and he could see more of your bare skin than he ever thought possible.

Flustered and confused, Eddie didn’t know what to make of this. Did you mean to send it by accident? Was this meant for someone else? The thought of it supposed to be for someone else sent a pang of jealousy through Eddie’s chest.

The overhead speaker saying the fight Eddie was supposed to be boarding was what snapped him out of his thoughts. The whole flight would feel extra long now that this would be all Eddie would think about. He couldn’t get home fast enough.

Eddie never replied to your video and didn’t respond to the picture you decided to take for him. You’re unsure what came over you, but you wanted a clear message. You didn’t think the video would do anything, so you got bold.

You started to regret your decision about the picture. Maybe you will lose your job. Perhaps you could play it off as an accident, pretending you didn’t know you had sent it to him.

It didn’t matter because it had been hours, and Eddie would be home any minute.

Trying to ignore the feeling of panic by distracting yourself by cooking dinner, you hear the front door click open.

“Honey, I’m home,” Eddie’s deep voice rings through the front hallway. Your stomach turns upside down at the sound of his voice.

“In here,” you try to keep your voice calm. Maybe he hasn’t seen it yet.

“Daddy!” Charlotte leaps off the kitchen chair and charges her way to her father. He’s been gone three days, the longest he has ever been away.

“Hi, handsome.” You smile as Eddie makes an appearance with Charlotte in his arms.

“H-hi,” he stutters, and his cheeks are a rose pink. He totally saw the photos.

“Dinner is almost ready,” you say, turning back to the stove, trying to hide your awkwardness about what you’ve done.

Eddie cleared his throat and took a seat as though nothing had happened. However, his mind was racing. He wanted to discuss it with you but didn’t know how to approach the situation.

Dinner was okay. You both tried to ignore the elephant in the room for Charlotte’s sake. You asked him questions about the trip, and he asked what you guys got up to. You let Charlotte do most of the talking. She eventually got bored and asked to watch a movie with both of you.

The tension could be cut with a knife as you and Eddie stole glances at one another while Charlotte was obviously enthralled by the princess singing about love in the big flatscreen.

After another hour and a half of torture, Charlotte passed out on her father’s shoulder. He smirks and says he’s putting her to bed and you stand to clean up the mess that was left in the kitchen after dinner.

A few minutes after watching the dishes, Eddie returns to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to clean; you’ve been on the clock for three days straight; I can take over. You sit and have a drink, relax.” He approaches you from behind.

“I don’t mind; youve been travelling all day; it’s my job to take care of you.” You look over your shoulder to see Eddie much closer than you thought.

“No, it’s your job to take care of Charlotte.” He raises a brow.

“What if I like taking care of you?” you drop the clean fork into the right side of the sink with all the other clean dishes.

“Sweetheart, about that…”

“Yes?” You turn excitedly.

“I um-you- I saw something.” Eddie didn’t know how to approach this. He sees you looking at him with hopeful eyes as you bite your lip. His heart fluttered in his chest when he saw the look on your face.

“I wanted you to see it.” You boldly admit.

“You- uh? What sweetheart?.” He asked, dumbfounded.

“Did you like it?” You take a small step forward, testing the waters.

Eddie visibly tenses. He knows this is wrong, he knows he shouldn’t be attracted to his kids’ nanny, but he’s also only a man—a man who has been crushing on you like he was back in high school.

“This is wrong”

“Why? It didn’t have to be?” You trail a flirtatious finger down his chest.

Eddie inhales sharply, and he can’t help his attraction to you take over.

“Because you’re you, and I’m your boss-“

“Charlotte is my boss,” you giggle and bat your eyes.

“Sweetheart,” he sighs.

“Eddie, I don’t want to keep pretending that there isn’t something between us. I can’t pretend any longer.”

“Sweetheart…”

“Please tell me it’s not just all in my head. All those late nights after we put Charlotte to bed, how we seek one another out even if Charlotte is not around, I see the way you look at me.”

Your face and Eddie’s were mere inches apart. Your lips were so close that Eddie was leaning in against his better judgment, but he wanted you so badly. You were right; there was an undeniable connection between the two of you, and Eddie didn’t want to ignore it either.

“Please, tell me I’m not crazy,” you whispered.

“You’re anything but sweetheart,” Eddie whispered back before closing the gap between you.

His soft lips formed with yours like they were made to be together.

You wrapped your hands around Eddie’s neck, pulling him in closer.

The sensation of his mouth on you went straight to your core. You needed him so badly.

Naturally, you slid your hands down his torso, up under his shirt, signalling for him to take it off; you needed to feel his skin; you kissed him like it was the last time you ever would kiss him.

You slid your hands down to his belt buckle, undoing it at a speed that wasn’t fast enough.

“Please, Eddie, I need you; let me make you feel good.”

“Sweetheart, you can’t just say things like that to me.” Eddie groans.

“Please, I need this; I’ve wanted this for so long, I can’t-” You both were so desperate, his pants couldn’t come off fast enough.

With a soft thwap, his jeans hit the kitchen floor, and you sink down to your knees.

“Fuck sweetheart, you look so beautiful like this.” he grips your chin before slipping his thumb in your mouth for you to suck on.

You slide your tongue along his rough, working hands, and he watches with lust burning in his eyes. You pop his thumb out of your mouth and replace it with the head of his cock. His thick shaft was heavy in your grip as you took more of him while not breaking eye contact. The weight of his cock resting in your mouth made you drool.

“Fuuuuuck, good girl.” Eddie’s breath became erratic.

Your eyes started watering as you tried taking him all the way down your throat, but Eddie was big.

Your breathing became shallow, but you were in heaven.

“You ok, sweetheart?” He’s looking down at you, a hand cupped on the back of your head, trying to resist the urge to thrust into your mouth as he hits the back of your throat.

You bob your head back slowly as you nod yes. You were finally able to catch your breath, drool coming out of your mouth as you pumped his cock in and out of your slick mouth.

Eddie couldn’t believe this was happening; not twelve hours ago, he was in a different state, jacking off to this fantasy of you on your knees.

He pulled you back up to kiss him, your pussy was throbbing, and the pulse that went directly to your clit was screaming for attention.

Moaning your name Eddie pushed you back so your ass was against the kitchen island, and you saw the hunger in his eyes.

He helps you jump onto the white marble countertop with quick hands.

“Baby, please.” An involuntary whimper came from your mouth, and he went in for another kiss, hands roaming from your inner thigh up until it reached your pussy.

“Oh baby,” he said the second he truly felt how wet you were for him.

Kissing down your neck, leaving purple bruises in his wake, not giving a care in the world right now about visible hickeys, he crept lower and lower until he was kneeling between your legs, forcing your knees open.

He stared into your heat.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” He spoke, not breaking eye contact with your wet pussy.

He leaned in; he started with soft kitten licks to your clit with the tip of his tongue, gentle and delicate, before he took long deep strokes off his tongue, tasting every inch of you. Eddie moaned at your tase; he wanted to consume you, to make you feel so good you forget about every man before him.

The tickle of his beard was grounding you. This was actually happening.

“Oh!” You cry but quickly cup your hand over your mouth, remembering Char was upstairs.

With Eddie’s face pressed into your cunt your orgasm was quickly approaching. You couldn’t resist it anymore; your hips started gyrating into his face, and you needed more.

“Eddie, please,” you whimpered.

“You want more, sweetheart?” he pulls away and replaced his mouth with his index finger, slowly stroking up and down your weeping slit.

“Yes, Eddie, please.”

“That’s my good girl, asking so nicely,” he said, grinning up at you before standing.

With his hard cock in hand, he rubbed his tip up and down your slit gathering your juices so he could split into you nice and easy.

At this point, you were so turned on you couldn’t think, moaning out as he slowly stretched you open, eyes rolling to the back of your head. Inch by inch, the pleasure mixed with the burn of the stretch was so good, too good.

“That’s it, sweetheart, fuckin’ taking me so well.” He slipped inside of you until you felt the tickle of his pubes against your clit.

You hadn’t even realized he was talking to you, cock drunk off the feeling you were so close, and he hardly started.

Incoherent muffled moans filled the empty kitchen as Eddie's cock quickly started to pump in and out of you, hitting your sweet spot on each thrust.

You didn’t stand a chance, as he had your legs over your shoulders, ankles rolling. He gripped the backs of your calves to hold your legs as wide as they could go.

With each thrust, the pleasure became more and more, your back arching up into the feeling of him filling you up.

The feeling in your belly started to build until he unexpectedly pulled you off the counter, walked you over to the couch, and flipped you so you were on all fours.

Once you were spread open for him, he started thrusting harder.

“Oh god! There! Please don’t stop!” You screamed into the couch cushions.

It was so good your hands gave out, your cheek pressing into the brown leather, only making your ass stick out more for him.

He spreads your cheeks to watch how your greedy pussy swollen his cock each time.

A slap comes down hard on your ass as he pounds into you; you moan out with pleasure. Another smack on the other cheek to even things out.

He’s going at a pace that makes your head spin; his fingers gripped into your hips so rough you’re sure there will be bruising tomorrow.

The noises that are coming out of you are inhuman; you don’t even recognize yourself; he was so big, you were so full, it was too good. 

“shhhhhh, sweetheart, we need to be quiet.” He wraps a hand around your face to cup your mouth to muffle the moans, but that only makes it hotter, so you cry about again. You couldn’t talk; each thrust was getting deeper and deeper at the angle he was holding you in.

Each thrust was building up the coil in your stomach. You were so close when he started rubbing your clit, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I’m close,” you seethe through gritted teeth.

“Come, sweetheart, come on my cock.” You were already seeing stars before he finished talking; your body shook, clenching down so tight on his cock while your orgasm filled your body.

“Oh god, yes, baby, milk this cock so good” Your pussy gripped down so hard on his cock that he almost wasn’t able to pull out in time.

You feel his warm seed on your back as his orgasm shoots through him.

Dazed and all fucked out, you roll over to see Eddie beaming down at you after he cleaned you up a little bit.

“Hi, sweetheart.” Eyes glazed over, you manage a

“Hi,” you giggle.

You curled into his neck, leaving soft kisses and kitten licks; you couldn’t help yourself; your boyfriend was just so hot. 

“I think we have a lot of catching up to do,” he throws you over his shoulder. “Eddie, put me down,” you giggle, getting a full view of his bare ass in front of your face. He runs you to his bedroom; you know it is going to be a long night. 

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai)

this,,,, may not be my best work yet.

part one

Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.

Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.

Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.

We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!

You blink.

With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.

You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.

It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.

You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.

Resignation — that was what you felt right now.

While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.

You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.

So you've developed a solution. Sort of.

You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.

I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.

You wait for his response.

Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?

Ai: You wound me, darling.

You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.

Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.

Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.

Ai: Talk to you later?

Sure.

You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.

A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?

A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.

It's been days since I last heard you say it.

You merely glance at it and swipe it away.

Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.

You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.

You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.

Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.

The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.

Rather, he bides his time.

Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.

There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.

You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.

You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.

Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?

Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.

Ai: What more should I do, hm?

Ai: Kneel? How cruel.

Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.

You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.

Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.

Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?

Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.

Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.

Ai: To love you.

Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?

Ai: I love you.

You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.

Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'

It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'

You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.

Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.

At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.

But could you really?

Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.

Fuck.

You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?

You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.

You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.

RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX

Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.

I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.

I love you.

You press send and wait.

And wait.

Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he wants like with your phone.

You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.

All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.

A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.

Theodore Callisto.

Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.

This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.

At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.

How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...

I hope you keep your word, darling.

- Your beloved, Ai.

P's. I love you too.

[evie-sturns]

wrong video - Matt Sturniolo

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

summary: where your best friend matt accidentally sends you a video of him jerking off instead of the pictures you two took together earlier, you can't help but want him.

contains: smut, switch!matt, fluff.

------------------------..••°°°°••..-----------------------

matt's been my friend for years now, we've hung out the whole day today and took instagram pictures together, now we are laying on the couch together watching some random rom-com.

"matt?" i ask chirpily, looking up from my phone over at matt. his eyes gaze over to me,

"yeah?" matt mumbles, looking at my eyes.

"can you send me the pictures we took earlier, i think i should post some of then." i say, fidgeting with my fingers as i scroll aimlessly through my phone.

"oh yeah of course." matt nods, he picks up his phone again as '10 things i hate about you' blasts through the living room.

i get the notification from matt, i instantly tap on it which takes me to messages.

theres the 4 pictures we took today plus another video..?

i swipe through the pictures then make it to the video.

i press play and my eyes instantly widen.

the video starts off with the camera pointed at the blank celing, then matts hand reaches out and adjusts the camera, the camera points to just his length.

he's running his hand which is covered in rings, repeatedly up and down his dick, his tip is flushed pink and dripping precum down the long vein that travels up the side of his cock. small whimpers and curses fall from his lips before he releases.

i pause the video instantly and look over at matt whos tapping at his screen with his eyes almost bulging out of his head.

"oh fuck- shit no i didn't mean to send that!" matt panics frantically, unsending the message.

"what just happened." i breathe out with a small embarrassed laugh,

"i am so.. sorry." matt whispers, his cheeks a deep red.

i just witnessed my best friend jerking off through a video.

matt stands up and runs a hand through his hair, "i-i'm gonna go to bed." he stammers before walking out of the living room.

i dont even notice but i've been squeezing my thighs together ever since i first looked at the video, it was hot.

i pick up my phone to look at the video again, but its deleted.

the video plays through my mind over and over, i feel weird, why am i thinking about my best friend like that?

i jump up off the couch, letting the blanket fall to the floor.

i almost run down the corridor towards matt's room, i knock twice on the white wood of the door.

"mm?" matt hums shyly from inside, i creak open the door and i'm met with him laying on the bed, wearing just sweatpants and a loose chain.

"matt. i want you to fuck me." i state blankly, i dont even process what i'm saying before it spurts out my mouth.

"what?"

"sorry." i mutter,

"if you want me to fuck you i will." matt says while standing up off the bed and walking over to me.

i turn around to look at him, hes looking down at me with his eyebrows slightly raised.

i grab his chin and pull him into a passionate kiss, matt kisses me back, his tongue quickly slipping into my mouth.

he lets out a small groan against my lips, letting his submissive side slip and thats enough for me to take control.

i guide him back towards the bed, pushing him down lightly onto the mattress.

i straddle him quickly, matt looks up at me with his bright blue doe eyes.

"fuck- i need you." matt whispers as i grind myself against the bulge in his sweatpants

"do you?" i tease into his ear.

"please.." matt whines, throwing his head back as i feel him grow fully hard under me.

i shimmy my sweatpants down my legs, revealing my white lacy panties.

i tear my shirt off of my head, revealing my bare chest right infront of matt's eyes.

"you're so pretty.." he mumbles

i pull down his sweatpants, his large length springing out, the same one that i saw over text 10 minutes ago. "you ready?" he ask, tearing open a condom and rolling it on him.

"i really like you.." i whisper, hovering above his raw tip, "i like you too sweetheart." .

"you need help?" matt speaks, holding my ass and pulling my panties to the the side.

i didn't, i just wanted to feel his hands on me.

"yes,- yeah please.."

he lowers me down onto him, halfway down. suddenly he drops me, my ass colliding with his thighs, i let out a gasp as he smiles, he lifts me back up to his tip, before loweiring me again.

i press two of my manicured hands on his bare chest and push his back down onto the mattress as i start to bounce on my own,

i trace mindless shapes on his skin, "oh fuck- fuck you're so tight" he whimpers.

"im not going to last long- im sorry" matt warns, gripping my waist as i sit fully down on his dick, i rub my clit against his pelvis as i rock back and forth.

suddenly matt flips us over, my back hitting the mattress.

he groans as he slides all the way out to his tip, then pushes all the way inside me again. "fuck.."

he whimpers as he starts to thrust in and out faster "matt oh my god." i moan as he presses on my lower stomach with his free hand, so he can feel how deep he is inside of me.

i clench around his length, feeling all pleasure coarse through my body at once.

i release all over matt's dick, he finishes into his condom then pulls out of me slowly, being careful not to overstimulate me.

matt pulls off his condom and chucks it into the bin on the other side of the room,

he throws his arms up lazily, "trick shot!" he laughs

matt collapses down next to me, "you okay gorgeous?" matt says, pulling me close to him.

"i needed that" i giggle, matt scoffs lightly before picking me up.

he carrys me over to his desk and sets me down on the chair before sorting through his various clothes.

he brings me over some of his sweatpants and an old shirt, "and... arms up!" matt says, pulling the shirt onto me.

he leans over and tugs the sweatpants up my legs.

matt pulls on his pants from earlier and picks me up again, throwing me on the bed.

he flops down beside me and tugs up the covers with a small exhale.

"that was the last thing i expected from tonight." matt says, closing his eyes.

"me too honestly, not mad about it though!" i clarify with a grin.

i pick up my phone from next to me and open up matt and i's messages,

i scroll through my photos, then pick out a specific picture before sending it to matt.

matt picks up his phone, "why'd you send me something i'm right her-" matt starts but cuts himself off.

"shit.." he laughs nervously,

matt opens the picture of me naked in front of my mirror, a small gasp escaping his lips.

he tugs the covers up over his lap as i see his cheeks flush.

"please- don't delete that." he whispers.

"matt.. are you hard again?" i laugh, tugging down the covers.

matt grabs my wrists and pins them above my head.

"how could i not be when you just sent me a picture like- like that!" he protests

"it's okay" i laugh,

matt presses a kiss to my lips, "go to sleep."

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

@luanetaluenta @sturnsssbow @mattfangirl @luvr4miya @luvtay111 @lolasturniolo @freshloveforthefit @ruedowney @lovingchrissposts @333michelle @h3arts4harry @sonicmacks @jamiesturniolo @chrisstopherfilmed @itzdarling @sturniolo-simp4life @daddyslilchickenfingers2 @ev3rgreenxtrees @lovergirl4387 @certifiednatelover @solarsturniolo @mattsenthusiast @yomamaslays4lyfe @peachmels @alinaa131 @pepsiluvr0209 @creamoncreamoncream2 @szobofc @mattscoquette @blahbell668 @sturniolo04 @ecilphttlunar @bitchydragonparadise @thematthewlover r r @sturni0l0 @ratatioulle @sturnsfav @chrisgetsmewetterxo @mattsonly @justalittle47 @mattsturnioloisbae@sunsetsturniolos @sturniolo04 @similartokayyz @pkfferoo @sturnsintrouble @ilovemattsturn @raysmayhem-72 @75sturn @sturniol0s @secret-sturniolo @hfkeclnendmwodne @sturniolosass @gxldenlush @stonermattsgf @101sara @beccaluvschris @oliviasturniolo21 @imwetforyourmom m @tylerstacobell @sunsetsturniolos @aliceloveschris @jayz4dayz4 @sassysturniolo2008 @nyktoxs-lover @nathandoesgf @starsturns234 @cristiana-heartzzchris @chrissturnsss s @joemamaaa42069 @sturnthepot @zayyluvz @realuvrrr @livialifesblog @sturnioloblogs s @riowritesitall

[beardedjoel]

oasis

dbf neighbor! joel miller x f!reader. one shot.

main masterlist | ao3 | kofi

summary: your dad's friend is tasked with looking after you while he's out of town. he ends up finding you somewhere you absolutely shouldn't be. blackmail ensues. 8.3k words.

for @iamasaddie's writing challenge! my genre was dark and the prompt was "please don't tell my dad!" thanks for the amazing challenge! 💌

warnings: 18+ MDNI! dark themes, joel is pervy and sleazy, age gap (reader is under drinking age but an adult so 18-20, joel's age unmentioned but he calls himself an old man and he's 50+ in my head), consensual but there are elements of coercion and blackmail so... (it's dark! okay!), unprotected piv, lap sitting, lap dance, thigh/crotch riding, orgasm denial, pussy pronouns, dirty diiiirty talk, cumshot?, reader has hair that can be pulled and wears lingerie but otherwise is undescribed.

a/n: this is less edited than my usual work but i hope i did it justice! it was very fun and silly to come up with this idea and i ended up loooving how crazy it got!

Keep an eye on her while we’re gone, eh?

The words from your father ring through Joel’s ears when he hears the start of an engine from where he sits in his living room, his view on the plush couch offering a perfect view through the large picture window on the front of the house. Right to where you live with your dad, where he can see the lights of your car come on. Bingo. He’s got you now.

Obsession felt like a strong word, but Joel could describe it no other way as soon as you’d moved in across the street - your dad was a longtime friend and neighbor, talk of his little girl rampant for years before he’d had the chance to meet you. You were going to be going to college nearby, so you moved from where you lived with your mom in California down to your father in Texas, right across the street from where he’d had the pleasure of laying eyes on you for the first time.

Young. Supple. Beautiful. And so damn shy. 

He hated just how much it turned him on when your timid eyes would find his. The pervy old man who couldn’t keep his eyes off a young girl - what a god damned cliche he’d become. He kept tabs on you, at first not really realizing he was doing it, eyes peering out the windows to catch you on your way out the door or coming home soon escalated to trying to see into your bedroom window at the front of the house. His time with your father mysteriously seemed to double, then triple, any chance he could to get close to you, see you in your natural habitat, hoping to learn more about this special girl that had captured so much of his attention.

You dressed modestly, too - far too modestly for his liking - he knew your father was a strict man, and assumed just as much about your mother from the way your dad talked about his ex-wife. He never got to see enough of you, except for the few times you had on shorter dresses when the summer heat just got to be too much to bear, and those rare occasions burned themselves into his memory, a bank of images to pull from when he took a hand to his cock and thought of you.

He’s up in a flash, smiling softly to himself as he quickly slides on his shoes and swipes his keys from the front table, exiting the house and seeing your car still parked in the drive. You always sit there too long before driving off, probably playing on your phone, texting your friends, whatever the hell young girls like you do. All Joel knows is he’s grateful it gives him enough time to sneak to his truck before you can get too far, waiting until you pull out and start down the street before starting his own car.

Joel checks the time as he starts down his driveway and sees it’s well after 9:00 pm. Where the hell could you be going, you naughty thing? Your dad has a strict curfew for you, he knows, and if he’s tasked with keeping an eye on you, he might as well do it right.

So he follows you. You get on the highway, heading towards downtown, and Joel’s eyebrows raise as he turns up his music, cruising along behind you, so unaware as he sees the outline of your own head bopping along to your music when he can get a clear enough view.

When you finally park, the city streets bustling with people out late on a Friday night around you, Joel sits in his truck, eyes peeled as he watches you round a building, disappearing. Oasis, the glowing sign on the front says. It looks a bit seedy, this area of town, a bouncer on the outside that you’d given a curt wave to sending Joel’s expression into pure shock before a determined smirk crosses his lips.

It turns out it’s not as exclusive as having a bouncer would make it seem. Joel waits in line with the others, feeling a bit out of place but his appetite to bust you outweighs all of it. Not more than ten minutes later he’s inside, the dark hallway opening up to a massive room laid out in front of him. It’s busy - bodies everywhere, the smell of sweat, alcohol, and arousal permeating everything and Joel blinks to adjust his eyes to the dim mood lighting. A dance floor takes up most of the middle, crowded to the max as music bumps through the speakers, and two bars flank either side, fully packed as well. There are lounges everywhere - cushy leather couches with tables, and as Joel’s vision comes in in full, he sees more private spots along the edges of the room on a slightly elevated area, curtains closing them in.

Too busy taking everything in, he doesn’t even notice the most important detail right away - the waitresses. More specifically, the way they’re all dressed. Gorgeous bodies of all shapes and sizes, parading around in what is essentially lingerie - a lacy black bra paired with a matching set of panties, sheer black stockings and a garter trailing down their legs all the way to the heels that adorn their feet. Joel feels a twinge inside his belly, pulling low and taut when he spots one of the waitresses with thick thighs and a plush stomach grinding on a woman sitting on one of the couches, the receiver throwing her head back in teasing, pleased laughter before taking a long sip of her drink. He continues scanning the room, seeing another man closer to his age being straddled by a different waitress with one of the nicest pairs of tits Joel has ever seen in that same uniform, her hips swaying and grinding so close to his crotch as she gives him a lapdance.

Fuck.

His mind spins faster, blood going hot as it runs through his veins, his cock twitching under the denim of his jeans. It’s been too long - all the pining, the built up frustration, and he’s needy. He finds it hard to believe you’d just be out partying at a place like this, certainly not the neighborly girl he knows. Bringing over leftovers you’d cooked for you and your dad, always with a little treat on the side and a soft smile, your frilly socks and white tennis shoes, collars that never revealed much past the very top of your gorgeous tits. But it still made him fucking crazy, all of it. He wanted to be the one to ruin it, to see who you really are underneath all of the fluff and sweetness. Because at the end of the day, he knows he wasn’t imagining that glint in your eye that told him you had more to offer.

Joel shakes the distractions and his dirty, racing thoughts, eyes scanning the room for you, remembering his mission. He is about to internally ask himself the question when your appearance answers everything he needs to know. Slack jawed, he looks on as you step out from behind one of the bars, tossing a smile over your shoulder at one of the other workers as you start to move carrying a tray full of drinks. 

When you emerge in full, strutting your way across the room, you’re wearing it. The outfit. The skimpy bra and panties to match all of the other servers. Your coworkers. Oh, he’s so thoroughly fucked right now, he thinks in a rising panic. But then again, so are you.

“Thank god you’re here! You’re seriously such a life saver,” Kristina says breathlessly as you breeze into the locker room. She’s one of the supervisors here at Oasis, the club you’ve been working at since the beginning of the summer. Sure, you were underage to serve alcohol, but the owners of this club seemed willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of things to gain good talent. Good pay, direct cash, and an insane amount in tips. Enough to pay your way through college, you hoped. Beyond all of that, once you’d gotten into the swing of things you found that you liked it, too. The power you felt in these heels, the way eyes followed you everywhere, you’d never felt so desired, so free or sexually open in your life. Although the only time you’d actually had sex was with your one ex-boyfriend, and it never felt like you do here - sexy, with raw desire filling the air, something so tangible you feel you can reach out and touch it sometimes.

You pull your shirt over your head, unclasping your regular bra and swapping it for the black, lacy one that lives inside your locker. Kristina stands nearby, unfazed by your bare chest as she thanks you. She’d called you about forty five minutes ago, begging for you to come in on your night off when another server, Rochelle, got sick right as things started to pick up. Friday night tips hadn’t sounded so bad when you had no plans apart from watching TV in your dad’s empty house, so it felt like a win.

“No problem,” you say, smiling at her. “Happy to help.”

“You’ve got section five tonight - Justin has Laura covering right now, just switch out when you’re ready, kay?”

You confirm, quickly finishing up your swap into your uniform, admiring yourself in the mirror with a soft smile, still getting used to the look of lingerie on you. You’d have been stupid to keep something like this in the house with either of your parents, not worth the risk if they found out about it.

The noise of the club blares, making you wince for a quick moment as you step out from the calmness of the locker room to the deafening noise beyond and get your bearings behind the bar. It really is busy, but all you can see is money when you glance around, admiring how full the place is tonight. 

You’re stopped in the middle of your flow after swinging by the bar to pick up drinks for one of your tables. It’s an extra flirtatious group of men who are practically ready to feast on you, but for all the poorly managed things about this club, they at least have a strict no touching rule with the staff that is enforced by any number of the security guards around. So you get to have your fun, keep your distance, and hope they pay extra for a lapdance from you and tip you well for it.

“You’ve got a, uh, private request,” Justin says, speaking quietly but leaning close to your ear so you can hear him. You pull back, a look of surprise on your face, a questioning glance that he confirms with a nod. “We’ll cover your tables. Room seven.”

Your mind spins faster as you walk towards the room. The rooms aren’t fully private, just a halfway curtain that gives the impression you’re more alone than you are. That luxury doesn’t come cheap, so whoever booked this room and asked for you must mean business. In fact, management hasn’t even put you on serving private rooms regularly yet, reserving that right to the more tenured employees until you work your way up the ladder. You smile, wondering who it could even be that specifically requested you - a regular that loved the banter you’d offered? A new customer who was drawn to you from across the room? It makes your heart skip a little, anticipation and a hint of nervousness coursing through you as you reach the curtain, stepping beyond to see your mystery customer.

Holy shit.

The sultry smile you’d plastered on fades right off your face, replaced with a deep set frown, your mouth open but unable to speak. Your stomach is rapidly dropping to depths it's never known before as your face starts to burn hot, cheeks feeling like they’re on fire. Your arms fly up to your chest, crossing them over as some kind of futile cover of yourself, but his eyes are trained there unashamedly, seeing the way your arms have really just accentuated your cleavage. He’s spread out on one of the loveseats, completely alone, knees wide apart, lap open and desperately inviting when it absolutely should not be.

“M-Mr. Miller?”

Joel was having far too much fun with this. The priceless look on your face that had wiped off the pretty grin you’d had was worth every damn penny he’d spent on this ridiculous room just to get you alone. You think you can cover up, somehow, but it only really offers Joel a better view of your bottom half, the lacy shorts style panties a treat for his weary gaze, the garters sitting against your soft skin one of the most enticing things he’s ever seen. He instantly feels his cock getting hard as his eyes rake up and down your body, settling on where your tits are now pressed together against your crossed arms.

“Mr. Miller?” you stutter out after a long, dense silence between the two of you.

“Don’t cover up on account’a me, sweetheart,” Joel replies cooly, threading his hands together behind his head, looking even more relaxed than when you’d first walked in. Your arms seem to tighten around you, the complete opposite of Joel.

“Wh-what are you -” you start trying to ask, and Joel notices how you suddenly look unbalanced, legs shaking underneath you. You attempt a step forward, bringing yourself further into the room and it gives Joel an even closer look at you, and god damn you’re gorgeous. Your skin looks flawless, so smooth and soft looking - the apex of your thighs coming closer to eye level as you move forward, all adorned by that lace that’s making him wild. He’s never seen anything close to this much of your skin before, and he has half a mind to grab you right here and toss you over his lap, taking everything he wants from you.

“Could ask you the same thing, couldn’t I?” he questions you, enjoying the tease, the way he sees your face screw up a little tighter at the very valid point he was making. You’re caught, and there’s no way around it now, he thinks smugly.

Your face falls, eyes going to the ground and watching your feet shift nervously in your heels. “I-I get it. You made your point. I’ll go home, okay? I know I shouldn’t be here -” you stammer out, and the guilty look on your face tells Joel what he’d already suspected - your dad knows absolutely nothing about this job of yours. 

“No, you shouldn’t,” Joel says, but he makes no move to get up, keeping a steady, unrelenting gaze on you. When you flick your eyes up to him, he sees they’re watery, and it makes his insides twinge with a strange mixture of regret and pleasure as he sees the tears brimming along the edges of your eyes, the subtle panic he can see growing. 

“You’re bein’ very bad, ain’t ya? ” Joel tuts, and you seem to almost flinch at the words from where you awkwardly stand in front of him still, unsure of what to do, where to go. Joel feels that pleasure growing warm in his gut, knowing he has you right where he wants you. “I mean, look at that outfit, sweetheart -” Joel starts with a low whistle, sitting forward slightly so you can see just how much he’s admiring it, his eyes narrowed in inspection, the weathered lines in his face apparent with the way his brows are raised. “Thas’ a far cry from those clothes you wear on my doorstep, play actin’ a good little girl.”

“N-no! I don’t - I didn’t mean - I am good.” You’re more and more visibly flustered, your arms wrapping around yourself as Joel continues to tease you, intent on bringing you down a few more notches.

Joel gives you a condescending glare. “Darlin’, ain’t nothin’ good about this. Lemme tell you what I think…” He leans back again, staring up at you, not once inviting you to sit, and knowing you won’t unless he does - he wants to make you sweat. “You never got to have that rebellious streak w’ both your parents bein’ who they are, did ya? An’ you thought you deserved it, to have a little fun, didn’t you?”

Your lip quivers and you blink back another set of hot, embarrassed tears, eyes trained back on the dark, faux marble floors, refusing to speak.

“Didn’t you?” he asks again with more bite. Fucking brat. Good thing Joel had plenty of tactics up his sleeve to whip a wannabe brat back into a good girl, he thinks with a sly smile to himself.

“Y-yes! Okay? I wanted to do something… for me,” you finally admit, feeling yourself shake a little at his demanding words.

“Now was that so hard?” Joel asks, becoming acutely aware of just how hard he is, almost painfully so now that he’s been teasing you, fantasizing about this moment for far too long. You shake your head, still hung downwards in shame before bringing your eyes back to his. They look soft, youthful and desperate, and Joel has never felt so turned on in his goddamn life, all the power he’s feeling rushing right to his cock.

“J-just… please don’t tell my dad,” you say, almost quiet enough Joel can’t hear it over the distant bump of the music. But he made it out, the words he’d been hoping you’d say, the ones he knew you’d have to utter.

“I won’t,” Joel starts, seeing the relief flood your face, nearly laughing at how quickly you put stock in his words before even hearing what else he has to say. So naive. “But what’s in it for me, hm? Ain’t gonna keep a secret without a little… incentive.” Joel’s hands plant on his thighs, running up the length of them as he watches your emotions shift in real time, your jaw going slack, eyes widening and barely blinking. You just stutter, completely taken aback and Joel had expected as much - you’re too good of a girl to navigate a situation like this. Good thing he already has his next words planned and loaded up to help you along.

“Laps feelin’ mighty empty, y’know…” Joel muses, leaning back and spreading his palms out on the leather couch next to his thighs. You flash your eyes to his legs, then his face again, mouth gaping open, finally realizing just what he’s asking for. 

You can’t believe this is happening to you. You should never have taken this job, kept such a big secret from your dad that you knew he’d absolutely kill you for if he found out. You were technically an adult now, but that didn’t mean you could just throw away his rules while you lived at home with him. 

And now you were being blackmailed by his friend. His very handsome friend, but you’re trying hard not to think about that right now. There’s no way he’s serious about this, no way he could actually want this from you? The neighbor girl, his friend’s daughter? Mr. Miller had always been kind, just a bit of a grumpy edge to him but he loved to joke around with your dad. You often caught them laughing together, too shy to have inserted yourself enough with someone who made your skin grow hot just from glancing into his dark, chocolate brown eyes. But without that buffer of your dad, here alone in the dim lighting of the club, it was like he’d become another man. 

“Y-you want me to…?” you say, blinking hard as you stare at his thick thighs and crotch, all spread wide open. It’s enticing - normally even with an attractive customer you find yourself thinking of it more as work - fun work, but still work. But with Joel… you’d felt heat pooling between your thighs as he observed you this entire conversation, the desire starting to outweigh the embarrassment you were feeling. 

“Paid for it, didn’t I?” he remarks practically, a nip of impatience edging his voice as you swallow hard and step forward. 

“Y-you don’t have to… we can get a refund if you don’t want me to do it…” you say, trying to remind yourself not to mumble, but your nerves are getting the best of you. 

Joel’s head shakes slowly, his hand drifting out smoothly from his body towards you, tenderly locking on to where your wrist dangles at your side and pulls you closer. Closer. Closer, until he’s pulling you down so that you have to bend down, coming face to face with him. Your cheeks burn, breathing heavy and stunted as the tension in the air thickens, his lips so close to yours. You can’t help but glance at them, the inviting curve of his lips drawing you in, but Joel’s eyes are elsewhere, peering down right between your bodies where your tits are on such display for him, spilling out of the bra at this angle. 

“Like I said,” he coos softly, eyes obviously drifting up towards your face, “I need a little incentive to not spill your dirty little secret, darlin’.” A smirk grows on his face before he lets go of your wrist, and you stumble backwards a little. 

“Y-you -” you stutter again, trying to counter him, but you come up short. “O-okay…” you mutter with a sigh, taking a deep breath before you hesitantly turn around, facing your back to him. 

Joel tuts immediately at your lack of enthusiasm. “None of that, gimme the full show, sweetheart, or the deal’s off.”

You huff quietly, taking a few steps away from Joel, readying yourself. He can see the change in your demeanor already, the more confident strides you take before turning around, facing him again. Then you begin your routine, practiced and ready, pacing towards him with a feline, graceful energy, heels clicking on the floor as you slip one leg in front of the other, heading towards him. You almost hesitate, pushing yourself through the doubt as your hand reaches out, grazing along his shoulder, moving inward towards his collarbone.

Your fingers drag along his chest, where one button of his flannel shirt is open, wishing you could delve your whole hand inside and feel the more than likely gorgeous planes of his chest. Christ, he’s so meaty, so thick everywhere you touch. 

A soft rumble escapes his chest before you turn around, grinding your ass downwards and then back up, teasing him by getting a little lower each time. But it’s not enough, he knows you’re holding back, your movements a little stilted and awkward. His cell phone is out of his pocket before he can think much more about it, snapping a photo of the way your ass is grinding down towards him, just enough of your side profile in the photo that it’s undeniably you. 

“Come on, know you can do better’n that.” Joel clicks his tongue, making you freeze, hovering awkwardly above him. “Do this for a livin’ lord knows how many nights a week. If you ain’t gonna give me what I paid my hard earned money for I can call your daddy right now… maybe jus’ text him this picture. What d’you think about that?” Joel asks, holding his cell phone forward and into your eyesight. You gasp, hands grabbing for it just as he snatches it away. 

“D-delete that! Please!” you cry out, feeling panic squeeze at your chest. Fuckfuckfuck you are so thoroughly fucked right now if Joel has photo evidence.

Joel smiles down at his phone, peering at the image one last time before pocketing it. “No can do, sweetheart. Now, I don’t really wanna have to ask again, yeah?”

You only gape at him for a moment longer before snapping your mouth shut and positioning yourself above his lap again. “F-fine. Jesus,” you mutter angrily, finding that the irritation you’re feeling is starting to spur you on as you begin to move again, feeling yourself turned on by Joel’s musk in your space, the heat of his body radiating towards yours in this close proximity. Not to mention you can sense just how turned on he is, how much this is affecting him as you move with more conviction, hips delicately swinging in front of him. If he wants a show, you’ll give him your best yet, you think with determination.

“F-fuck… attagirl,” Joel lets slip when you brush his crotch with your ass. He’s barely holding it together with your curves swaying tantalizingly in front of him, something even his wildest dreams likely couldn’t have conjured up. He’d never think he’d see you like this - so sensual, so fucking gorgeously in control of your sexual aura that it could make a man lose control. Your customers were beyond lucky, he thinks with a pang of jealousy shooting through him, making his blood boil hotter, his possessive side come out. While he’d been at home pining over you, thinking about you with a hand stroking his own cock, you’d been here - rubbing your pretty ass on all those lucky fucks and their undeserving crotches. 

The thought makes him insane, the image of you doing this to any other man, so when you lean back against him, pressing your back to his chest, your ass just beginning to grind on his jeans, his hands go to your hips instinctively trying to bring you down onto him, to claim you. You slow your movements to a stop, leaning your head back towards his ear so that you’re almost entirely pressed against him now. 

“Not s-supposed to touch,” you say, you voice the only thing giving away just how nervous you still are. 

“Don’t fuckin’ care, if I’m honest,” Joel huffs back quietly, his voice husky and breathless. You bite back a moan as his rough hands wrap around each side of your waist tightly and help guide you that last inch downwards, sending your ass fully rolling over his crotch. 

“H-holy shit…” you whimper when you feel the rough denim brush along the outside of your panties. You feel a flush run through you, your skin burning hot as you realize you won’t be able to hide how wet you’ve gotten for very long. It began slowly, just with his brooding, questioning eyes on you, now reaching a fever pitch as you’re in his space and feeling the prominent bulge in his pants. 

It’s been far too long since you were satisfied. Truly satisfied. 

Your breath catches as Joel fingers wiggle inward a little after hearing how much you’re getting into it, even closer to the waistband of your panties, the two of you facilitating the grinding motion together as you bear down a little more on his lap. Joel lets out a pleased hum, still somehow giving you the sense that he’s the one holding back now. His hands still have an air of respect to them, like they’re vibrating with the need to wrap completely around you and pull you to him, to roam your skin and grab at all the forbidden parts of you. 

When the thought flashes across your mind, you realize you want him to. 

“T-touch me…” you whisper, immediately clamping your betraying mouth shut as the words float out into the air. You hold your breath, waiting to see if Joel heard you.

“What’s that, gorgeous? Couldn’t quite hear you,” Joel says, his tone a low, mocking sound that tells you he’s baiting you, that he wants to play with his food before eating it. Your eyes narrow before they shut completely, rolling back when he forces your ass to move along his bulge again.

“F-fu- touch me,” you spit out a bit louder. “Please.”

“You poor thing,” you hear him tut from behind you, forcing your hips upwards and away before grasping onto your hands, turning you around to face him. “Can’t get us in trouble now, can we?” he asks tauntingly, his eyes giving you a heated staredown as they widen, almost looking sympathetic if there wasn’t so much of an appetite behind them.

You whimper, visibly whining as your face screws up, squeezing his hands with yours. Joel tugs, so lightly that you’d almost think it was your own idea as you start to come back down towards him, pressing the warmth between your legs against his thigh. You sigh shakily, eyes fluttering shut as you slowly swing one leg over top of his and bear down a little more, straddling his thigh.

“We w-won’t… we won’t…” you breathe out, knowing it’s not the complete truth, but room seven is especially tucked back, hardly getting any traffic. In fact, it was known for bending the rules a bit. 

“She’s so needy, huh? You all wet for me, sweetheart, that it? She need a little relief?” Joel taunts, and when you open your eyes to meet his gaze, he’s practically pouting. Your cheeks burn at how desperate he’s making you sound, but your hips twitch of their own accord, sending a zing of pleasure up your spine and you whimper quietly again, giving yourself away even further. 

“Y-yes, Mr. Miller…”

“Keep on doin’ your little dance, pretty girl, jus’ right there,” Joel urges you, a hand finding the small of your back, the other locked onto your hip as you start to rock forward, then back again. Relief instantly floods you as your clit brushes against the ripples in the hard denim, making you move harder against him, mouth popped open in fresh ecstasy. 

“Close that mouth before I shove somethin’ in it, you fuckin’ tease,” Joel grits out, his eyes burning wildly, finally giving you a glimpse at how affected he is as he keeps his stare on your face, starting to sheen with sweat. Your mouth snaps shut, a stifled moan pulling from your throat and behind your closed lips, threatening to burst out of you.

“This ain’t against the rules? Havin’ a pretty girl ride my thigh?” he asks in cruel teasing, flickering eyes glancing down to where your hips are shamelessly rocking on him.

“I- I don’t - know-“ you choke out, your legs starting to tremble as the pleasure slowly, steadily builds deep inside of you. “I d-don’t care…”

“Riiight, she’s on her rebellious streak now, ain’t she?” Joel mutters facetiously, smiling a devious grin as he watches your face screw up in concentration. You truly don’t care, you can’t care anymore when whatever the hell is going on feels so good. Damn this job, damn Joel’s games, you’re going to get what you need out of this right now, too. Your head is thrown back as your whines and moans escalate, showing Joel just how close you’re getting. 

“That’s it, god you’re beggin’ for it, ain’t you? So dirty…” Joel’s hands grip tighter along your hips, starting to drag you inwards, towards his aching, clothed bulge. “Beggin’ for your daddy’s friend's cock while you make a mess all over his thigh, aren’t you? Who would’ve thought a good girl like you’d be wantin’ to get fucked by an old man?”

His words make you clench around nothing, the harsh tone making your insides twist in pleasure as you roll your hips a little faster. “F-fuck… I - I need to - Mr. Miller -” you plead aimlessly, feeling your core tightening, the obscene wetness driving you to full on madness as your pussy aches, cries out for Joel.

Your leg is being dragged over top of him, forcing you to fully straddle his lap, thighs stretched wide and burning at how wide you’re going to accommodate his huge frame. You’re in disbelief at the rough, needy noise Joel makes as soon as your cunt is pulled down onto him, Joel’s hands forcing your hips to start thrusting against him. You nearly lose your balance, wrapping your arms around his neck to hang on as he looks at you with determination. Hands planted firmly on your ass, squeezing hard as he relishes in the feel of finally having you like this, feeling your warm heat seeping through his denim right to where he’s desperate to have you most.

“Joel,” he corrects in his haze, stunting your hips to press down hard on his cock, sending a gasp flying out of your mouth at the sheer size of what’s to come. Your mouth is practically watering, so close to what your body craves now, what it needs. When your fingers graze the button of his jeans, he stiffens, seeming to snap out his lustful fog as he swats your hand away.

“Fuck… later,” Joel says suddenly, using every bit of self restraint to push you back, moving your heat from his bulge, the instantaneous lack of you devastating him to the core. 

Your brows quickly knit in confusion at the sudden change in course. “W-why…?” you whisper breathlessly, bringing your lips near his neck, kissing the rough skin, working your way up to his patchy, gray flecked beard. His hand is at the back of your head, yanking you backwards by the hair, tearing your lips off of him in a brutal rush. He holds you there, the pull on your scalp starting to prickle harder as you sit staring at him like a tamed animal being held up by its scruff. 

“Can’t fuck you properly in here. Too many fuckin’… people. Prying eyes wantin’ to see what all the fuss is about.”

“I-I can be quiet,” you retort, hating just how much it sounds like begging but the hold he has on you right now is so intense, so inexplicable that you’d say anything, you think.

Joel huffs, a tiny, incredulous snort coming out of his nose. “No, you can’t. Not if I’m doin’ what I plan on doin’ to you. We can’t have anyone come snoopin’, can we?”

You shake your head, suddenly wondering if he’s about to drag you out of here, take you home to his bed, or your bed, you think with a shudder. You feel a pull inside your belly, thinking you just might let him if you don’t get your head back on straight soon. 

“An’ you still gotta work the rest of your shift, make your money, don’t you babydoll?” Joel says with a smirk growing, making your face fall completely into a deep frown. “Call it a little punishment for bein’ such a bad, naughty girl, yeah? Then you can finish up givin’ me my piece of the pie.”

You find yourself gaping at him for the umpteenth time tonight in disbelief. He wasn’t going to just leave you… like this? Was he? You can feel your clit pulsing against your panties, your body tense and wound up, on the precipice of coming so hard you saw stars only a few moments ago. 

“Up, now,” Joel says, shifting his legs so that you’re forced to move, scrambling up onto your shaky legs, feeling like a newborn fawn getting your footing again.

“W-wait… I already - didn’t I… give you what you want?” you ask, suddenly feeling yourself snapping out of the heady, lust filled haze Joel had you in. This was insane, right? You can’t fuck him, you shouldn’t. It wasn’t right for either of you, and you’d been crazy to have just been this close to letting him stuff you full.

Joel’s head tilts, watching your slightly messy hair and smudged makeup for a few beats with a discerning gaze. “Nah, darlin’, you just gave me what I paid for. This is what I want.”

Your heart and stomach sink to new depths. “N-no. Joel! You said… if I gave you the lap dance you wouldn’t tell my dad. And I gave you a hell of a lot more than that -” Joel stands, interrupting you, coming forward and crowding your space, his hulking mass like a tower next to you, shadowing you with his commanding energy.

“Watch your mouth,” he snips, a hand gripping onto your wrist. “I’m the one callin’ the shots here, an’ I changed my mind once I saw just how pretty that sweet little pussy of yours can be. So here’s what’s gonna happen…” Joel’s fingers come up to ghost along your cheek, trailing down your neck, along the swells of your breasts as he speaks. You can’t help but shudder at the attention, how good it feels on your sensitive, needy skin.

“You go on out there, tell ‘em what a great job you did in here, work the rest of your shift like a good girl, thinkin’ about just how fuckin’ wet you got these pretty panties, how bad she needs a little help from Mr. Miller.”

Your breath is caught in your throat at his words, hitching further as his touch skates further down, sending your hips twitching forward. 

“An’ I’ll be waitin’ for you after, darlin’, for what I’m owed.”

Your heart pounds as you slip out the side door and into the alleyway, pausing to let the cool night air wash over you as you gather your thoughts. Your mind is at war with itself, one half of you knowing this is a terrible idea, setting you up for complete disaster in the future. How could you ever face Joel again if you two took it that far? Then again, you weren’t sure how you’d be able to face him in the daylight already, anyways, without your cheeks burning so hot they caught fire. The other half of you was winning, had been winning as you worked the rest of your shift in a complete daze, hardly recognizing your own movements as your body burned hot and needy, mind completely scrambled by the conundrum of your father’s closest friend coming onto you and more.

You spent the rest of your shift coming to terms with the fact that you do want to fuck him. So badly. Even if it’s wrong, a complete mistake in every single way. You also know your mind isn’t to be trusted right now, running on pure horniness and desperation, never having been fucked in the way you know Joel could. His experience, his power, the way his lustful eyes had drank you in like the sweetest balm - it was all too hard to turn down. You turn, looking the opposite way down the alleyway from your car, starting to think you might be able to sneak around the block and get in your car and drive off without him noticing, wondering exactly where he’s waiting for you. You don’t see a soul, hear anyone else in this alley apart from the distant music from inside and chatter from along the main street which is a far cry from where the employee exit to Oasis dropped you. 

You take the risk, heart thrumming wildly as you start down the alley, saying a silent apology to Joel in your head, and then yourself for letting this secret come out, knowing Joel was definitely not bluffing if you didn’t follow through on your end of the deal. Better to face punishment from your father than have to deal with the consequences of fucking his best friend and facing the feelings that would come after. You’re only halfway down the alleyway before a warm, rough hand is slapped against your mouth and an arm is draped around your middle and tugging you backwards. A wall of muscle meets you and you whimper loudly behind the hand, starting to yell.

“Shh, shh, no screamin’,” the voice coos, distinctly recognizable. Shit.

“Tryna sneak off on me, huh, pretty girl?” Joel says next to your ear, his neck craning down to breathe you in, groaning. It’s so feminine, so light and soft, the faded scent of your perfume and body wash makes him instantly mad with need for you. His hand slips down, giving your lips some room to answer now that you’ve stopped fighting him, leaning back into his hold a little more.

“N-no,” you choke out, lying. “S-swear.”

“Didn’t change your mind? Want me to send those pretty pictures to your daddy?” Joel coos, starting to walk you towards the brick wall of the building, pushing your body forwards until you’re pressed against the cool, scratchy surface. You hold back a moan when his body leans into you fully, completely dominating you as you’re at his mercy against the wall.

“I j-just d-don’t think we should -” you utter half heartedly, feeling heat rush to your cheeks, fearing what might come next after your suggestion.

“Why’s that?” he asks, dripping with condescension. “Seemed you couldn’t wait to get stuffed full of me not too long ago, yeah?”

“I-it’ll be weird after, w-won’t it? How can we… be around my dad? How can you?” You finally find your voice, your bravery, to ask him the question you’d been thinking the entire night.

A small chuckle blows past the side of your head from where Joel’s mouth sits against your head. “Think we both learned tonight I’m willin’ to keep a secret,” he says, his voice getting more harsh, a needy coarseness to it that sends goosebumps along your skin.  Joel feels a frenzy overcoming him when he notices your thighs clenching, how shallow and wanting your breaths are becoming now. He can’t wait much longer… can’t stand the torture he’s endured at your sweet teasing for a second longer.

“I-I want it…” you finally say in a harsh whisper, your resolve faded within seconds. Your ass ruts back into his hardness, an ache that hadn’t subsided in the least in the last hours as he waited for you. Patiently. Like he had already been all of these months. 

“You know I’m gonna ruin anyone else f’you, darlin’, don’t you?” he asks as his lips trace along your shoulder, now clad in a tank top that you’d changed back into. The bits of bare skin he touches taste like heaven, feel almost unbearably soft and inviting against his plush lips. He couldn’t possibly deserve any of this, but he couldn’t help but take it, anyhow. He could pay for his sins later. Your neck is next on his list, another supple spot of heaven to taste as he mutters the words again. “Don’t you?”

You just nod at first, dumbstruck by the feel of his lips, turning your head to try to meet them. “Yes,” you tell him softly, knowing it’s the truth, and there isn’t a turning back from this moment anymore. His lips are suddenly all there is, devouring your own whole as he takes in bounds, your tongues and teeth and mouths in a desperate clash, panting into one another as Joel starts to tug at your jeans, fingers flying desperately to tear them down.

You let him.

The second he’s pushing into you, you see bright white flash across your vision - that pulse of pain shooting through the very fabric of your being, your nerves lit up and screaming out from deep inside of you. Joel’s groan is barely audible through the ringing in your ears as he doesn’t stop, finding solace in your tight heat when he pushes himself into you in full. It’s heaven incarnate, you are heaven incarnate, he thinks, practically panting out the words as he feels your wet tightness pulling him in, walls pulsing as you adjust to the sheer volume that is Joel. Your cheek is crushed against the brick, mouth propped open in shock, the rough scrape on your face the only thing keeping you grounded as you whine out a long, wanton sound, something completely foreign to you.

“So… fuckin’... dumb on this cock,” Joel utters as he starts to move, a slow drag of his cock out and back in before he makes good on his promise to ruin anyone else for you, to never have a comparison to the blinding pleasure you feel rocking your entire universe as he quickly ruts into you. “Fuckin’ heaven.”

“J- fuck -” you stutter out, completely speechless. When one arm wraps around you, finding your clit, needy and puffy from hours of torturous edging, everything else melts away. The dark alley, the fact that you could be seen at any moment, the way you weren’t even sure you trusted Joel to keep your secret despite you following through on your end - none of it fucking mattered anymore.

“W-wanted this so bad, y’don’t know what you do to a man, sweetheart… Jesus fuck,” Joel says, uncharacteristically soft as his hips roll, sending your own bouncing onto his hurried fingers swirling along your clit. Desperation clings to the both of you now, hot and heavy air, hurried movements like this could be torn away from the two of you any second.

“Joel… I’m fu- I’m close, so close, please…” you rush out, feeling a pull of warmth at your center, his cock brushing along just the right spot to send you to that edge. You start to moan louder, the noise echoing in the open space around the two of you, your hand hurriedly slapping over your mouth to muffle it as the high starts to rock through you. His name screams from behind your hand, the sound still clear enough to send Joel to a state of crazed fervor, thrusting into you at an impossible pace, sending you bouncing harder against the wall. You twitch and shake, your eyes rolling back as you come harder than you have in months, maybe ever. Just like he’d promised, the absolute bastard.

“Fuckin’ creamin’ on this cock, shit, you’re so fuckin’ wet,” Joel marvels breathlessly as the obscene squelching of your bodies meeting only gets louder. “Oh, good girl, such a pretty, messy slut for a dirty old man, aren’t you?”

“G-god, yes, fuck… I am…” you whimper out with flustered nods, completely spent as you come down from your high, letting Joel use your cunt to chase his own now. You twitch at the overstimulation, your body still tingling pleasantly as he turns you into his own personal fuck toy, your body his for the taking. 

“Pretty as a picture, all fucked out like this,” he says slyly one hand planted on the wall next to you now, the other playing lazily with your aching clit. “Never gonna be able to give me up now, are you?”

You shake your head, lost in the moment with your answers as you feel another orgasm washing over you, less intense but still pleasant waves of pleasure rolling through while you gasp for breath, completely full of Joel each time he thrusts heartily into you, stealing away your air. 

“Please… c-can’t…” you mumble through your climax, hardly able to take the stimulation anymore but knowing the sick little part of your brain is happy to do it for him, let him use you until he’s completely spent himself. 

You don’t have to wait much longer for your wish, hearing Joel grunting, almost whimpering when he’s suddenly gone from you with a wet, slick pop, leaving you cavernous empty. He barely makes it out of you before his hand grips his cock, twitching in his palm as he comes towards the ground right in between your legs, ropes of cum coating your pulled down jeans and underwear, the brick wall, the pavement below you. His forehead is pressed to your back, sticky and hot as he catches his breath for a silent beat.

You’ve never felt anything like this, this satisfaction, this pure unadulterated filthiness and pleasure. The addiction already grips you, your poor, sore cunt already anticipating the next time he could ruin you. 

But then it hits you like a train, pulling you out of your reverent little bubble - this can’t happen again. It’s out of your system, out of his, and now you both have a secret to keep. You start to pull your pants up, the movement seeming to bring Joel to his senses, reaching down along with you. 

“Sh-shit, here, let me,” he says in a rasp, tugging your jeans up, the immediate feeling of wetness sticking to your body and making you cringe. “Little souvenir for ya,” he comments cockily, knowing his cum is now sticking to your skin, knowing that thought will sustain him for at least the next few hours. But that’s wishful thinking, he realizes, knowing that he could find himself buried in you the entire night, over and over again, considering hauling you away to do just that when you interrupt his thinking. 

“I- I’m sorry…” you mutter, not even fully sure of why you even say it. For some reason, you are sorry that you put the two of you in this position, even if it ended in something so incredible that you have a hard time even putting it into words. 

Joel spins you to face him, thumbing your chin and pinching it, bringing your face to look him in the eyes. They look a little softer than they had inside the club, more like the neighbor you’ve come to know. So charming and disarming when he wants to be. 

“Don’t be,” he says, leaning down to kiss you more gently than he had before, something tender and sweet that you find yourself immediately falling for, body melting into his as you hang your arms around his neck, wondering when along the way you started feeling so comfortable with this.

“Besides,” Joel adds, a devious smirk pulling his lips upwards. “Your daddy ain’t home for a few more days. Think we can find a few more ways to convince me to keep your little secret.”

[vote-loki]

Letting one persons unjustified hatred for me prevent me from going to my halls first house meeting with our brother house, which is my favorite house on campus, and I’m :)

Literally didn’t get invited to my best friends birthday party on Friday because they wanted to invite this person instead. She literally was so scarily obsessed with him he’s now scared to be alone with her and we tried to get her involuntarily committed. But she got to go to his birthday party, and I didn’t.

College was always marketed to me as the place where you make lifetime friends, and I’ve literally managed to make one (1) friend, if we don’t end up growing apart because of how isolated our friend group is making me, and like three separate lifelong ENEMIES.

It’s just irritating.

[pucksandpower]

Grid Kids

Sebastian Vettel x wife!Reader x platonic!drivers

Summary: your adopted family may be chaotic but you wouldn’t change it for the world

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen: Jailhouse Rock

It’s an ungodly hour of the morning when your phone rings. You groan, fumbling blindly on the nightstand to silence the offender. The name glowing on the screen gives you pause: Max Verstappen.

“Seb,” you mumble, nudging your husband awake. “Max is calling. It’s 3 am.”

Sebastian grumbles something unintelligible, face squished into the pillow next to you.

“You take it,” you insist, poking him again, “I spent three hours on the phone with Lewis last night promising him that Roscoe doesn’t hate him for being left at home this weekend.”

Reluctantly, Sebastian sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He swipes to answer, his groggy voice filling the silent room. “Max, do you know what time it is?”

You hear a hurried explanation from Max’s end, something about a go-kart race, a party, and a tiny misunderstanding with local law enforcement. Your husband’s face becomes more incredulous with every word.

“Wait, you’re where?”

***

Ten minutes later, you find yourselves at the police station, bleary-eyed but amused. Max is sat behind bars, a sheepish look on his face.

“I promise, it wasn’t my fault,” he insists, blue eyes pleading.

You both manage to suppress your laughter. After signing a few papers, Max is free but the smug grin on Sebastian’s face tells you that he’s not going to let him off that easy.

“So, this is our life now?” you whisper to Sebastian, wrapping your arm around his. “Running a day care for unruly F1 drivers.”

He chuckles, giving you a light kiss on the forehead. “I think we make a pretty good team.”

Charles Leclerc: Open the Floodgates

It’s a stormy evening when your phone buzzes again. This time, it’s a text message from Charles Leclerc: Hey, can I crash at yours? My flat’s kind of … flooded.

Sebastian, reading over your shoulder, raises an eyebrow. “Flooded?”

Before you can respond, a photo arrives — Charles’ living room, a sea of murky water with floating furniture: Okay, maybe more than just kind of.

You look at each other, suppressing laughter. “Guess we’re running a bed & breakfast now too,” you comment, already texting Charles back: Come over. Bring a mop.

***

Not an hour later, there’s a knock at your door. Charles, drenched from head to toe, stands at your doorstep, carrying what appears to be a plant pot with a small, equally wet cactus.

“I saved the cactus,” he says, looking as pitiful as a drowned rat, albeit a very cute one. He offers a half-hearted shrug, “I didn’t want it to drown.”

Sebastian bursts out laughing, his contagious mirth echoing around the hall. You can’t help but join in, hugging your sides in an attempt to remain composed.

“Well, come in. We can’t have you and the cactus catching a cold.”

***

Over the next few days, you quickly adapt to the unexpected housemate situation. Charles proves to be a surprisingly tidy guest, always washing his dishes and even cooking dinner one night (although you had to discreetly order pizza after trying his special lasagna).

In the evenings, the three of you curl up on the sofa with Sebastian’s old race replays, laughing and teasing each other. And every night, before he goes to his bed in the guest room, Charles says goodnight to his cactus — the newest member of your eccentric family.

Lance Stroll: The Cat-astrophe

A week later, you get a frantic call from Lance Stroll. “Guys, I found this cat,” he says, panting heavily, “It was all alone in the alley and I couldn't just leave it there.”

The line goes silent for a moment before Lance coughs then sneezes loudly. “Uh, guys, I think I might be allergic ...”

***

When Lance arrives, the culprit — a tiny, scruffy looking kitten — is perched on his shoulder while Lance himself is a picture of misery: puffy eyes, runny nose, and all.

Between his sneezes, Lance pleads, “Can you please keep her until I figure out what to do? I can’t just abandon her.”

You glance at Sebastian, who looks at the tiny furball with a mixture of amusement and concern. He’s been a dog person all his life but how can you say no to those pleading green eyes?

And so, your home expands to accommodate another kid — this time, a four-legged one.

***

The next few days are full of chaos. The kitten — whom Lance named Speedy — turns out to be an agent of destruction, knocking over everything in her path and giving Charles’ cactus a few worrying near misses.

You try to give Lance advice on finding a new home for Speedy while dealing with cat-proofing your own. But, during the ensuing pandemonium, you can’t help but laugh.

George Russell: The Shrunken Sweater Saga

One sunny afternoon, George Russell bursts through the door, a panicked expression on his face. “Guys, something terrible happened!”

Sebastian and you exchange a concerned look, jumping up from where you were cuddled on the couch. “What is it, George?”

He holds up a shrunken cashmere sweater, once a luxurious wardrobe piece, now resembling something only a toy poodle could wear. “I accidentally put all my sweaters in the washing machine! They’ve shrunk!”

As the reality of the situation sinks in, you can’t help but chuckle. “George, you do know cashmere isn’t machine-washable, right?”

“I thought they were!” he laments, looking at his miniature sweater in disbelief.

Sebastian claps a hand on George’s shoulder. “Don’t worry, mate. We’ll figure this out.”

***

Over the next few days, you and Sebastian embark on a quest to save George’s beloved cashmere sweaters. Armed with online tutorials and gallons of fabric softener, you attempt various rescue techniques.

Some of the sweaters regain a semblance of their former glory while others are beyond saving. You present George with a colorful assortment of shrunken clothing which he accepts with an embarrassed grin.

***

A sudden thought strikes you and you can’t help but giggle. Holding up a particularly tiny sweater, you call out to Speedy.

“Look, Speedy! It’s your size!” you exclaim as you gently dress her in the shrunken garment. It fits her perfectly, making her look like the most stylish cat on the block.

The sight of Speedy strutting around in a cashmere sweater breaks all of you into laughter. Even George can’t help but chuckle, despite his heartbreaking loss.

***

In the following days, Speedy parades around the house, flaunting her new wardrobe. George’s shrunken sweaters have found a new purpose, and despite the initial panic, everything worked out in the end.

“This is the most high-fashion cat I’ve ever seen,” Sebastian comments one day, watching Speedy strut her stuff on the living room rug. “She should be on a runway.”

George, watching his beloved sweaters being put to good use, grins. “I think they look better on her than they did on me.”

Speedy watches you with a lazy stare, now comfortably nestled in her new family’s hearts (and cashmere sweaters).

Lando Norris: Call the Milk Man

It’s a lazy Sunday afternoon when the doorbell rings, jolting you out of your peaceful nap. Groggily, you stumble towards the door, pulling it open to reveal a sheepish-looking Lando Norris.

“Hi, I was just wondering,” he starts, shifting nervously from foot to foot, “Do you have some milk I could borrow? I ran out and the shops are closed.”

Suppressing a smile, you nod, motioning for him to wait while you go fetch the milk.

***

When you hand Lando the milk, he seems relieved. But then, he looks at the container quizzically. “Why is it in a glass bottle? Don’t you use cartons?”

Your laughter fills the hallway as you explain your household’s eco-friendly policy. Lando listens attentively, his previous discomfort replaced with genuine curiosity. You can tell he’s taking mental notes.

***

Over the next few weeks, Lando pops by more frequently. Sometimes he borrows more milk, other times he just wants to chat about sustainability, an interest sparked during his first milk visit.

One day, he arrives at your doorstep with a broad grin and a glass bottle in hand. “Look, I’ve switched to glass milk bottles too!”

Sebastian will be proud.

Mick Schumacher: Comfort in Company

One evening, you find Mick Schumacher sitting alone in your backyard, gazing at the stars. His usually cheerful face is thoughtful, his eyes a little glossy.

“Mick, everything alright?” you ask, settling down next to him on the grass.

He looks at you then at the stars again. “I just ... I miss my dad, you know?”

The silence hangs in the air, thick with emotions. You reach out, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “It’s okay to miss him. You don’t have to hide it. Especially not here with us.”

He nods, wiping his eyes. “I know. It’s just some days it hits harder than others.”

You stay with him, listening as he talks about his dad, his memories both sweet and poignant. You realize that while you’ve adopted your grid kids into your chaotic family, they each come with their own sets of joys and sorrows.

***

Sebastian joins you two after a while and the three of you sit under the stars, sharing stories and remembrances. Mick smiles as Sebastian tells him stories about racing with Michael, the camaraderie they shared, and the respect they had for each other.

By the end of the night, Mick seems lighter, the earlier sadness replaced with a soft smile of remembrance. He thanks both of you for listening and understanding. “You guys really are like a second family to me.”

The Big Announcement

One sunny afternoon, you gather all your grid kids in the living room. The chatter is lively, the room buzzing with energy as they try to figure out why they’ve been summoned.

Sebastian gives your hand a reassuring squeeze as you both stand in front of your unconventional family.

“We’ve called you all here because we have some news,” you begin, heart pounding in your chest.

***

When you finally tell them you're pregnant, the room falls into a stunned silence, their wide-eyed expressions making you chuckle. But then, as the news sinks in, the silence is broken by whoops of joy and congratulations.

“Wow, so we’re going to be big brothers?” Max exclaims, while Lando jokes about teaching the baby to prank Sebastian, Mick looks almost teary-eyed with happiness, and George immediately volunteers for babysitting duties.

***

With your pregnancy announcement, your grid kids go into overdrive. They begin to dote on you in a way that’s both touching and a little overwhelming. From Charles insisting on cooking you healthy meals (despite his previous lasagna disaster) to Max bringing you comfortable pregnancy pillows, everyone tries to make you as comfortable as possible.

Lance even makes Speedy wear a bell around her neck in case she inadvertently startles you. The cat isn’t pleased but the sight of her jingling around the house keeps everyone entertained.

***

As the weeks go by, their concern borders on overprotectiveness. They fuss over you at the smallest things, like Max insisting on driving you to your doctor’s appointments because he’s “the fastest driver” or Lando continually adjusting the house temperature to ensure you’re never too hot or cold.

While their actions are well-intended, they often become hilariously excessive. One day, you find Mick baby-proofing the house even though the baby isn’t due for months. He sheepishly shrugs, “Just trying to be prepared.”

***

Despite the chaos, their actions stem from love and concern, which warms your heart. One evening, you find yourself surrounded by your grid kids as you sit in the living room, their laughter filling the air.

As you watch them, your hand gently resting on your growing belly, you can’t help but feel grateful. These young drivers, your grid kids, have become such a vital part of your life. Their genuine care and, at times, overzealous concern during your pregnancy only emphasize the strong bond you share.

Your family may not be traditional and your daily life may be filled with mayhem but it’s your life with Sebastian and the grid kids. It’s chaotic, hilarious, and unpredictable — and you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

The Big Day

The day finally arrives when you’re rushed to the hospital. Sebastian is by your side, holding your hand through every contraction, while your grid kids anxiously wait in the waiting room, pacing and biting their nails.

A few hours later, when your newborn daughter makes her entrance into the world, Sebastian walks out to the young drivers, his eyes sparkling with joy and exhaustion. “You can meet her now.”

The joy and anticipation in the room is palpable as they rush in, crowding around the hospital room door in their eagerness.

The sight that greets them is nothing short of heartwarming. You’re in bed, looking tired but blissful, a tiny bundle nestled in your arms.

As they take turns holding the little one, their faces light up in awe. From Max’s gentle cooing to Lando’s finger being gripped by tiny hands to Mick’s unashamed happy tears to Charles’ whispered lullaby in French and George’s soft-spoken promise to be the “coolest brother,” the room is filled with a warm sense of family.

Even Speedy, smuggled into the hospital in Lance’s jacket, gets to sniff the newest human member of the family, much to the nurses’ chagrin.

A Baby in the Paddock

Several months later, the paddock welcomes an unexpected visitor — your baby daughter, wrapped snugly in a cute onesie with a tiny racing helmet print. As you push her stroller through the crowd, your grid kids and their fellow drivers are visibly smitten by the adorable sight.

Your grid kids instantly surround your daughter, their faces lighting up as they coo and make silly faces to elicit giggles. They take turns pushing her stroller and you can’t help but chuckle at their enthusiasm in their newfound roles as big brothers.

Sebastian, ever the proud father, looks on with warm amusement as he watches your daughter bond with her extended family.

***

Amid the hustle and bustle of the paddock, your daughter experiences her first pit stop as Charles and Lando try to change her diaper. Even Mick, the baby-proofing master, hovers nearby to ensure everything goes smoothly.

You can’t help but admire their dedication and the way they’ve embraced their roles as her protectors and playmates.

***

At the end of the day, you gather the whole group for a family photo. Your daughter, held by Max and Mick on either side, steals the show with her toothless grin.

As you look at the photo later, you realize that this quirky, chaotic family has grown and changed in the most beautiful ways. Your daughter has been embraced by these young drivers, who have become her brothers and protectors, just as they’ve become sons to you.

A New Racer on the Track

Years pass in the blink of an eye and soon your little girl is no longer a baby. She’s grown into a lively child with a love for speed, much like her father. Today, she’s ready to participate in her first karting race, and the whole gang — your grid kids now with seven World Championships between them — are here to support her.

As they gather around the track, an old joke resurfaces. Max points at a particular bend in the track, nudging Charles with a smirk. “Remember the inchident?”

Charles groans, rolling his eyes, “Not this again. It was years ago!”

Laughter breaks out among the group, their bond echoing through the years.

***

Before the race, each of your grid kids offers your daughter their sage advice. From Lando’s “always keep your cool” to George’s “remember to enjoy the ride,” her brothers are keen to impart their wisdom. Mick even attempts to show her how to properly do a pit stop, using a toy car and tiny plastic cones.

Your daughter, with a sparkling helmet almost too big for her head, listens earnestly, her wide eyes moving from one brother to the next.

When the race finally starts, your grid kids cheer on loudly, their voices carrying over the vroom of the karts. The sight of your daughter, determined behind the wheel of her tiny kart, brings a surge of pride and a few tears to your eyes.

As the race ends, your daughter crosses the finish line in third place, a beaming smile on her face. She’s welcomed back to the pit by a roaring cheer from her family, her brothers lifting her onto their shoulders.

***

That night, the celebration is filled with laughter, teasing, and an impromptu re-enactment of the inchident by Charles and Max, much to your daughter’s amusement.

Sebastian lifts his glass for a toast, “To our little racer, may you always find joy on the track. And remember, an inchident is only funny if it doesn’t happen to you.”

Laughter fills the room once again, and you can’t help but marvel at the love and joy surrounding you. These are the moments you cherish the most, moments of laughter and unity shared with this extraordinary, unconventional family.

As you watch your daughter being coddled and celebrated by her brothers, you realize that this legacy of love and support will always continue, and for that, you couldn’t be happier.

[spencerscoven]

the alternate … art donaldson

Art has a proclivity for giving attention to his enemy. He hates her— but particularly hates how she has Patrick wrapped around her finger even more.

warnings ; smut .. slutty drunk freshman art x Patrick's gf, infidelity .. unedited for now! oops!

It didn’t take much time for Art to settle into Cornell— it wasn’t just the tennis or the girls, of which he quickly learned were rather women, or even the academics. His hesitation on his attendance was especially foolish, especially in moments like these as he rolled over, crushing the red solo up beneath him. The buzzing in his jean pocket persisted, just like it had for the last five minutes before, causing him to utter another affirmation to ignore it into her mouth.

Maybe the women had one or two things to do with it.

"Maybe just get it?"

"Why?"

"So you... can tell them you're busy."

He hummed into her mouth as the girl above him detached herself, moving to grab the stitch of her top to remove it as he tilted his hips to reach for his phone.

Patrick.

His calloused hands came up to push her thighs over his hips, sitting up to read the rapid series of text Patrick had sent. And Art soon saw— was still sending. All of them ranged from different ways of him asking Art to check up on you, letting your attendance be known. Patrick's texts detailed the simple request of him checking to see if you were taking your alcohol well. Another saying he hoped you wouldn't get roofed. And one that blatantly asked that he didn't let any of "those Ivy League assholes" fuck his girlfriend.

Art rolled his eyes, resentment laced in his actions as he muttered condolences and pledged to "be right back", his large hands taking the knob of the door and peering out into the dark hallway to find you. When a look wasn't enough, he left the room door slightly ajar, stepping completely into the hallway filled with red cups, colored lights, almost sidetracked by his team that pulled him by the neck and fought to put a drink in his hand. With a light smile still gracing his face and beer in a can, his eyes wondered up to your face, watching as your lips wrapped around a bottle of Corona, some leaking out the side of which you swiped away with the back of your hand. He felt the same kind of resentment he usually felt when he saw you when Patrick visited fill him from his chest out. He watched as you leaned against the wall talking to someone. He took in your skimpy skirt and top with less resentment, though.

He especially didn't like it when the next time he looked for your face, you were staring at him, eyes hooded and smile nasty and condescending.

"He told me to look for you."

"I know." You raised your eyebrow dismissively, almost wanting to laugh at Patrick's good intentions. He knew what you'd say about Art. Just like you assumed what Art said about you, yet he asked him anyway.

"And by that, he means look after you." Art leans in, lips close to your ear as the music sounded. You roll your eyes as he lingers there a moment too long and you expect him to say something more, but he never does.

"We both know I look fine."

It takes a beat before he responds. "We both do."

"And we both know you don't want to babysit."

"But I'm a good friend."

"I've known corrupt politicians that are better friends than you, Art."

He sways away from you, facing the rest of the party as he rolls his eyes with the kind of insularity he only reserved for you, tipping his head back to finish the rest of his beer and tossing it towards the trashcan, only to miss.

He turns to you, irritation flaring as he stabilizes himself on the sticky wall behind him by holding your hips. It's something you're willing to let go of, your breath clicking as he whispers: "You smell like pot."

"It's a free country."

"Okay," he challenges, pursing his lips as he leans closer. "What's in your cup?"

"What? Yours and Chelsea's not good enough for you?"

His upper lip raises, in a look of both disgust and toleration as he grasps your wrist, forcing you to bring your own bottle to his mouth. The contents of it are mostly able to be swallowed but the rest flow from the corners of his lips, down his chin, to his throat where his Adams apple bobs as he swallows. You wipe it instinctively, causing you to both freeze for only a moment. He shutters before he opens his mouth again to slur,

"Chelsea?"

You look at him quizzically, your mouth opening once, twice, three times, only to say nothing but erupt in laughter that rocks your head backwards and your body closer to his. Art looks around frantically, his mouth tilting downwards as he looks around, grasping your hips forward and gritting his teeth as he repeats himself.

"Chelsea? What's the fucking joke I'm not getting?"

"The girl that you just— my fucking god, Art. I know you look the way you do, but you couldn't even remember her name?" You tilt your head towards the doorway, insinuating the room you're sure his cologne still lingered in. He groans, his head falling forward in a laugh as his right hand on your hip runs up the side of your torso, his head spinning.

"I'm not a very good date, am I?" You can nearly taste the alcohol on his tongue and you're out of laughs, humor gone as a consequence of being so close to him. And maybe he's too drunk to realize it's happening, but you're too cross to care when his thumbs rub circles on your hipbone, of which he had to invade underneath your waistband to do.

"I almost finished my night like this." It's so quiet that you're unsure if it was for you to hear. But it doesn't matter, as your hand runs up his arm and shoulders, eyes following over the ripples.

"This is not the same."

Your other hand trickles down to his waistband, guiltily skating over his bulge as you feel his pocket for his phone.

"Arthur, Patrick told you to check on me. So, tell him I'm okay."

"I told him that I'd check on you. I also told him you were a bad idea, like I always do," He saws it lowly, as if it's not supposed to slip out and has only found it's way because of his level of intoxication. You scoff, pushing him backwards as you're suddenly slightly more sober. You rock back and forth, eyes rolling back, but the distance is not created before you can hear him finish: "but I never said he didn't have good taste."

You don't like that it's still said in the way only drunk and resentful Art could deliver it. "You're not a very good fucking friend."

"To who, you?" He makes it his personal duty to invade your space, his face in somewhat of a snarl. You know that some would see this as uncharacterized for Art, but it's most familiar to you. It feels somewhat like home. Albeit, a house fire, but home.

Your first encounter with him was glancing behind yourself at move in, and seeing his blonde locks brushed back by calloused hands as he looked at you, then to your racket.

Your second encounter was only minutes later, when he stood next to his raven haired friend who asked for your number as he rolled his eyes with a knot in his jaw, as if he didn't find you worthy. He tugged on the shirt of his friend, telling him there were better things to do. Better, he had said.

And that never made much sense to you. Because in your relationship with Patrick, there had always been the inconsequential three.

"You're not my friend," You begin, mind calculating how many rooms and doors of Cornell's largest final club you'd have to go before finding somewhere, anywhere, that would fit just you. "Never was."

Art's only silent for a moment, nose flaring and eyes squinting. his shoulders are tense, and if you were to look down you'd see his hand balled in a fist.

"What? What now, Art?"

"You never gave me your number."

He watches as your eyes furrow in confusion, the heat in your eyes rising rather than deflating. And he speaks again:

“You gave it to Patrick. But you never gave me your number.”

Without your bottle, your hands search for something to do, blinking frantically. They resort to touching yourself in the same places he just had, your fingers running down your torso quickly, your hip bone. When you touch your shoulder is when the two of your gazes meet once again. Art watches through blue as you nod your head slowly in both horror and understanding.

You're quick on your feet. He's watched countless of your matches, even when he had no business doing so. But he is too. So when a short string of curses land out of your mouth and you march down the hallway, he's on your heels.

And all you can think is that you know his gaze better than any other. It wasn't something you intended but through these sporadic games, your body and soul had bargained to be familiar with Art more than any other. If he leaned against the net or lunch table, it became the kind of resourcefulness of movement that was so particularly him. It was rare you called on him, yet necessary when it was a matter of Patrick. He was always there, steadfast and urgent. It'd be days before you learned of the lecture he missed because of it. And while your boyfriend was off being a pro, Art never was slow to tell you how good his female counterparts around him were, while you were "only barely whopping college ass".

But somehow he was always there. You found his gels and handle tape in your tennis bag. You had more than half your dining points still because you were just "a casualty of being present” when he was buying his own lunch. And it all made you feel as if he was just very...

"You're a fucking con artist," You shoved him against the door of which he only narrowly made it "A fucking wolf in sheep's clothing."

It made you even angrier that he was stronger than you but willing to let his body fall back, lips pierced in a thin obedient line as his back hit the door repeatedly under your assault until he grasped both your forearms, holding them closely together. A wince escaped your mouth, his strength relenting and becoming lighter but still he held you. He leaned down, attempting to meet your face that now focused on the hardwood below.

"I know I'm the bad guy. Still, what's it gonna be?"

You didn't look up at that. But you did at the vibration that sounded in his pocket just seconds later. There were always three.

Art doesn't waste a moment to release your arms, wrapping his own in an enclosure around your head to reach your lips, tugging you impossibly close to him. You can't help but not move-- letting him twist your head and invade your lips. It's only until you release a small moan you latch back.

After Art's kiss, your night was haunted. It was distorted beyond your eyes' power of correction. So when a pair of lips landed on yours again, you came back home. You gave in.

His hands ran down your body, invading each and every corner of you. Your hips, your waist, the small of your back, the back of your thighs which he used to hoist your body upwards and against the doorframe, caging you. As the wet kisses sound on your neck, you look past his head to the room you two now occupied, no bed. Just various pieces of miscellaneous covered in cream sheets. When you look towards the window, releasing another whimper as you feel his middle and index finger prod at your cotton panties, you can see dust aligning with the moonlight.

Like everything else he does, he's good at the way he touches you. No, nearly instinctual. Art's fingers curve and level themselves out inside of you, yet he leaves his palms frigid, rubbing your clit back and forth with the surface of it. It makes you all so weak, Art murmuring your name as the two of you lower to the floor, you're suddenly reminded of the urgency of the matter.

"Art, I need--"

"I know,"

I know,

I know,

I know.

He repeats the sentiment into your skin and it almost makes your eyes brim with tears as you feel his bulge covered by denim slot against your soaked underwear. The feeling is delicious, so you excuse your decorum when you buck your hips against his. You watch as he detaches himself from you, the depth of his blonde hair twinkling in the moonlight. His lips and chin are swollen and wet from your messy kisses that appeared to be more tongue than anything. He lifts your hips to remove your skirt on his own once he catches the way your eyes watch him, still. He looks at you, sick with the same fever, but now you're not quite sure what this illness even is.

His hands move to tug your shirt up, yet you push his hands away, making them double up on his belt as both of you scramble to slide his jeans below his ass. You also help him when he leans to grab your right leg, sliding it up and against his hip as he sways above you. You watch as he thinks, only for a moment, places a feather right kiss on your knee, whispers something you can't hear, and promptly shoves his dick inside of you.

The force of it slams your head against the door, the hinges rattling but the surprise of his size makes it so you hardly notice. You close your eyes immediately until you're struck with the realization that you hope this never happens again. You hope you're never drunk enough, or lucky enough to have your boyfriend's best friend's dick rocking you back and forth ever again. You near your eyes open, willing to at least let yourself savor what little you have now, gazing in the middle of you two where you can see him disappear inside of you repeatedly.

Art huffs above you as your name escape his lips repeatedly as if it hadn't been the first time. You find yourself unable to cope, grabbing the hardwood until you realize there's not much give. So you resort to firmly biting his shoulder between your gasps and yelps. which only surges him on to drive into you faster, his hips snapping and the sounds of both your flesh filling the room.

You feel his clammy hand reach for the hair at the nape of your neck and you allow yourself to submissively follow regardless of your confusion. Art's breath mingles with yours as he asks:

"Is it good?"

You don't answer.

"Does it feel good?"

Your brows furrow together as you nod your head up and down as if you’ve been doped, chest heaving uncontrollably. He meets your lips and it feels as if he's kissing you solely for himself as he drags his hand on your cheeks and forehead, ridding your face of your sweat and hair. His other hand circulates your clit with a firm hold and you feel the familiar sensation approaching. Your skin felt both as cold and hot as it ever had, your teeth penetrating your bottom lip, biting Art in the process.

"I don't think we should do this.." You spit out quietly in intervals, because it feels like the right thing to say right before you come all over his cock and he leans down to look at the mess you've made in bliss. The results that it gives are fruitful, as you feel his fingers' relentlessness on your clit still. But you can tell he's struggling to stay where he is, trying to milk every moment he can inside of you.

You use your feet to push his hips back, arms reaching above your head as you untangle your limbs. Your legs remain sprawled out on his thighs, of which lay on his calves. The silence between you two is like molasses, and he stares at your core as you brush your socked toes against his abdomen, then cock.

You see a frown form on his face, but you're also met with the needy repeated rise of his hips that meet your foot and help you grind against him. You watch in awe as his eyes don't leave yours, confusion filling the air. You bring your feet faster, rubbing against his tip and watch as Art's whimper fills the air and his cum shoots to his lower stomach and your sock, his eyes closing, throat repeatedly bobbing as he rides his high. You watch as the thrusts into you become increasingly slower until they stop completely and the two of you are left still once again. You marvel in the way it seems almost as if he always gets what he wants. And Art isn't quite sure of what to make of you at all anymore, with his ears ringing and chest warm.

On his knees, he cascades towards your body that slumps against the door frame. He moves towards you slowly at first, hesitating if you wanted any of this at all. But you don't decline the warmth of his chest as he pulls you in, wordlessly. You let him bury his nose to your scalp as he takes you in.

And you both agree that if this may be a story of tonight alone, you both might as well melt indistinguishably into it once again.

[girliism]

all the girls on your floor of your dorm HATED when patrick came to visit while on tour cause that ment they’d have to here constant banging and moan the whole time he was here.

“ladies, so glad to see you all again.” patrick walked through the dorm hall in his denim jeans and white t-shirt smiling like he owned the place. the girls groaned and complained begging patrick to get a hotel for the two of you instead.

you were on him the second you opened your door. throwing your arms around him. “pat! missed you so much.” patrick kicked the door close and you placed kisses on his neck. even if you and patrick texted and called all the time nothing beat having him in real life. “the girls still hate me.” patrick laughed, backing you onto your twin sized bed hovering over you. “they’re just jealous.” you joked playing with the zipper on patrick’s jeans.

what started out as a kiss on your nose and your cheeks soon turned into a heavy make out. yours and patrick’s tongues glide over each other. breaking the kiss patrick pulls his shirt off and yanks your pants off. your body gets pulled down from the force he used and you have to scoot yourself back up. you spread your legs, bare pussy on display for him. patrick lays in between your thighs gaze locks on your leaking cunt. “missed her.” patrick kisses up your thighs and places a small one on your clit making you let out a shaky breath.

patrick is basically making out with your pussy licking and kissing at you. you try to keep quiet but patrick shoves two fingers in you curling them. “oh that’s good keep going.” you hum. your fingers grip his hair. patrick gives a few more harsh sucks to your clit before his thumb replaced his mouth. “you’re all i think about on tour.” patrick gives you kisses all over your face. “really?” your toes curl when his fingers make contact with that spot in you. “mhm. think about you and your pretty face… think about cumming on it.” you can feel patrick smiling against you jaw as his thumb swipes back and forth on clit. “patrick oh my god.” you moans get higher and patrick’s fingers speed up till you’re cumming on them. “fucking soaked my fingers.” patrick pulls his fingers free putting them in his mouth. he moans sucking on his fingers eyes locking with yours. patrick shoves his fingers from his mouth into yours. you gag a little on them but you still roll your tongue around them. your shirt gets yanked up to your chin so patrick can get some attention to your tits. sucking and kissing on them.

usually patrick would have you on your knees with his cock down your throat but he wanted to be in you so badly. “fuck” patrick muttered watching you clench around nothing. “want my cock don’t you.” you nodded with his fingers still in your mouth til he pulls them out and takes your shirt off. “she’s missed him so much.” you lean up to kiss him again messy and wanting. “cry’s for it all the time.” your guys hands work together to get his pants off then patrick is roughly pushing you off him and flipping you onto your stomach like you weigh nothing.

yanking your hips up so you’re on your knees patrick kneads your ass cheeks before spreading them mouth watering at the view. “got to let me fuck you here.” patrick spits right onto the tight ring muscle. you whine and push your ass back against him. he was gonna fuck you there just not today. patrick took his hard cock and traced the head of it from your clit to your opening mixing his precum on you. patrick leans down to whisper in you ear. “i love you.” before his hand is yanking you head back by your hair and he slams his cock into you with no warning.

your bed bangs against the wall and your moans fill up the small room and your scalp burns as patrick pounds in from behind you. “squeezing me so tight baby.” patrick grunts letting go of your hair so both his hands can grip your hips keeping you in place so he can fuck you how he likes. “gonna fill you up leave you leaking my cum out your tiny pussy.” you can only answer in loud moan and whines occasionally letting out a small “fuck patrick.” your fingers tighten around your pillow when you feel patrick’s thumb poke into your asshole.

“m’gonna cum.” you slur. patrick lays a slap on your ass. “i thought good girl asked first.” patrick taunted. “please -oh fuck- please can i cum patrick.” you plead. patrick snakes his hand around your waist and rubbing fast circles on your clit. “of course.” was all you needed to hear to cum all of your boyfriends dick screaming into your pillow. patrick moans and grunts get louder after a few more hard thrust his hip still and he’s cumming deep in you. patrick stays inside you catching his breath before he pulls out. patrick swears under his breath watching his cum pour out of you swollen pussy.

you lay there on your stomach letting patrick lay kisses up your back moving your hair out of your face to kiss your lips. “you ok?” you nod and pull his face into your neck to hold him. he lets you hold him for a while. he releases himself from your grip to grab his shirt from the floor to wipe the two of you semi clean. showers can happen later right now all you wanted to do was lay with him. “how long do i have you?” you ask “i’m here all week.” patrick replies kissing your forehead. the two of you finding sleep before your RA can come and kick patrick out.

[yunniverse]

Important

౨ৎ PAIRING— kim hongjoong x reader

౨ৎ GENRE— angst, fluff, established relationship, fem!reader

౨ৎ WARNINGS— angst, argument but happy ending

౨ৎ WORD COUNT— 2.1k

౨ৎ SUMMARY— you expected hongjoong to remember, but he forgot.

౨ৎ A/N— hope you enjoy and tysm for reading!! feedback is appreciated!!

“One coffee, extra milk and sugar,” you tell the cashier at the coffee shop, understanding why he seems tired and looks as if he wants to get out of there and in his bed already. It’s almost midnight, after all.   “That all?” he asks, looking about as uninterested as he possibly can.   “No,” you clear your throat, not even having to look at the menu. “Another coffee, one sugar.”   He nods slowly, placing the order before taking your card and swiping it. You wait by the door, checking your phone again, only to not see any messages from him, just as you expected.

Though, it still feels like a punch to the gut. You had already texted Yunho to ask where he is, even though you pretty much already knew.   You look up when the cashier calls out your order, pushing off the wall to grab the drinks. “Thanks,” you tell him, offering him a half smile. “Have a good night.”   “Mhm,” he responds as you walk out of the coffee shop, the bell ringing above the door.   Getting into your car, you sigh as you place the drinks in the cup holders. It’s your one year anniversary of dating Hongjoong, and you honestly shouldn’t be surprised in the slightest that he obviously forgot.

You’ve tried to give him the benefit of the doubt, given the fact that Ateez is in the middle of promoting their new comeback, but it still hurt when he didn’t show up at the restaurant like he said he would.

You had even had to tell them to cancel the reservation, after you waited for nearly an hour for him to show up.   As you drive, you try to stay calm, knowing it isn’t his fault completely, and he has way too much on his plate, but he could have told you he was too busy, right?   When you pull up to KQ, you sigh yet again, grabbing the drinks as you open your door, met with a burst of cool air. Bringing the coffee inside with you, you slowly make your way to Hongjoong’s workplace.   When you finally make it, you can’t help the small shadow of a smile that creeps onto your face when you see him hunched over in front of his computer, writing notes and humming.

He’s wearing an oversized t-shirt, which you hate to admit, because you’re supposed to be upset, looks amazing on him. His soft, brown hair is a little messy from running his fingers through it, but somehow he still looks beautiful.   “Hongjoong?” you question softly, sighing when he doesn’t respond, still humming to himself amd writing. Gently placing the drinks on the table beside the door, you walk over to him quietly, placing a hand on his shoulder.   With a small jolt, he turns to look at you, his face softening when he sees you. “Hey, baby,” he greets you with a warm smile, pushing the glasses up on his nose.   “Hi,” you respond, rubbing your arm, as Hongjoong grabs your hand, trying to tug you a little closer, probably to give you a hug, but you shake your head, trying to shrug him off.   He frowns, confused, “What’s wrong?”   “You really forgot?” you question, hating how vulnerable you sound, but you can’t help it. Finally seeing him today had just snapped something inside of you, and now you feel like you’re on the verge of tears.   “Forgot?” Hongjoong questions, his pretty brown eyes searching your face, flickering back and forth between your eyes, trying to read your emotions.   “Our anniversary,” you inform him, hearing your voice shake slightly.   Hongjoong’s face falls as he slumps in his chair, removing his glasses to rub his eyes before meeting your gaze again, seeing the disappointment in yours. “Oh, baby, I didn’t… You don’t… It wasn’t…? It was today?”   You simply nod, sniffing in order to hold back the tears threatening to fall at any moment.   “I set an alert so I wouldn’t forget, but I got so busy today that I haven’t checked my phone,” Hongjoong sighs. “I’m so sorry, baby. I truly didn’t mean to.”   “I understand,” you nod once, stepping away from him. “You’re just busy. Work comes first. I’ve always known that.”   “No, y/n,” Hongjoong shakes his head, reaching for you again, but you take another step back. “Please!”   “No, Hongjoong,” you reach for the coffee, holding it out to him as you gesture at it. “I got your usual.”   “Thanks, I-“   “But I’m gonna go.”   “What?” Hongjoong’s eyebrows crease as he stands. “Why?”   “You’re busy, and I’m a burden to your work,” you shrug, trying your best to sound unaffected, though you’re almost certain Hongjoong can see through your act.   “It isn’t like that, y/n,” Hongjoong sighs, his shoulders lowering in defeat as he plays with the wrapping around the paper coffee cup.   “What’s it like then, Joongie?” you ask, the nickname slipping out accidentally, you being to used to saying it.   Hongjoong’s offers you a small smile at the nickname, as he takes a step toward you, hoping you won’t back away. “I genuinely didn’t mean to forget, baby, but between the comeback preparations and the fanmeet and performance earlier today, it just completely slipped my mind.”   “I understand!” you suddenly snap, knowing you’re being unreasonable, but you just can’t seem to wrap you head around him forgetting your anniversary. “I understand, Joong.”   “It isn’t about you understanding,” he responds, somehow remaining calm. “It’s about letting me apologize.”   “I am letting you apologize,” you cross your arms, and Hongjoong sighs, looking down before fixing the glasses on his nose again. “Please, go right ahead.”   Without another word, Hongjoong steps toward you, his arms wrapping around your stiff frame.

At first, you stiffen even more, but, the longer he perseveres, the more you find yourself melting into him.   The soothing, faint scent of citrus and ginger slowly lures you to press your face into the soft skin of Hongjoong’s neck, breathing out a sigh as you relax into his warm embrace.   “I really am sorry, baby,” he whispers into your hair, making a small whimper escape your lips, muffled by Hongjoong’s skin. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”   “Really?” you ask, sniffling slightly as you pull back to look him in the eyes.   “Yeah,” he breathes, pressing his forehead against yours as he speaks. “I’ll take you wherever you wanna go this weekend. Name it, we’ll be there.”   “Joongie,” you frown a little, causing him to glance down at your lips, giving you a small pout when he sees your downturned expression. “I don’t need to go somewhere to be happy. I just want to spend time with you.”   “But-“   You lift your hand, placing a finger against Hongjoong’s lips to silence him. “Honestly, that’s all I really wanted anyway. To talk to you and finally get to be with you again. It’s been way too long since we had an evening to ourselves, given your hard work all the time.”

Hongjoong’s gaze flickers across your face as he takes in your words, looking a little confused.   “You didn’t want to go out tonight?” he asks softly.   “No,” you shake your head a little, a small smile forming on your face. “Don’t get me wrong, it would’ve been fun, but what I really wanted was you.”   “Just me?” he repeats, as if he can’t believe it.   “I love you, Joongie,” you laugh a little. “All I ever want is your attention.”   He glances down, a small blush spreading across his cheeks, but he soon gets himself under control, meeting your gaze again. “Then, we’ll have a movie night this weekend. Just you, me, snacks, a movie, and cuddles. Does that sound nice?”   “Sounds perfect,” you sigh, this time in content, as Hongjoong grins, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips, making your eyelids flutter closed, thoroughly enjoying his kiss, especially since it’s been so long since you’ve had a kiss from Hongjoong.   When he finally pulls away, you grin cheekily, “But, only on one condition.”   “What’s that?” Hongjoong asks, furrowing his eyebrows.   “Wear this outfit,” you smile shyly, eyeing his earrings and his necklace. “You look so hot.”   Hongjoong reddens, taken by surprise, as he averts eye contact, groaning a little in embarrassment, “Babyy.”   “Hm?” you hum, blinking innocently.   “You can’t just say stuff like that,” he responds, still blushing. “Plus, I’m barefaced.”   “And?” you question, quirking an eyebrow. “You look beautiful with or without makeup. Don’t make me convince you again.”   He yelps as you playfully pinch his sides in warning, causing him to jump away from you a little. “Okay, okay.”   With a giggle, you let him grab your hand, pulling you toward his rolling chair. “Wanna sit with me and watch me work for a little while?”   “I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to watch my cute boyfriend work,” you respond cheekily, making Hongjoong groan again, trying to hide his blush.   “Stop, baby,” he pouts at you, making you laugh.   “I love you,” you tell him suddenly, making him turn to look at you. “And I’m sorry I freaked out earlier.”   “Don’t apologize,” Hongjoong responds sternly, grabbing your hand and gently pulling you toward him from his position seated in his chair. “It’s completely my fault that I forgot, and I promise I’ll do better about that. You’re so much more important to me than work. I know I don’t prove it often enough, but it’s true. I hope you know that I love you so, so much.”   “I know, Joongie,” you smile, your hands moving to his head, carefully pushing his soft hair away from his face.

His eyelids flutter closed at the feeling, a small sigh escaping his lips. “And remembering anniversaries isn’t the most important thing in a relationship anyway. You’re the best boyfriend I could ask for, even if you forget important dates.”   Hongjoong’s eyes open at that, though the frown that grows on his face is sleepy as he speaks, “What else have I forgotten?”   “Don’t you remember when you forgot you were meeting my parents a few months ago?” you ask pointedly.   “Oh, right,” Hongjoong mumbles in response. “Well, at least they still liked me.”   “Who wouldn’t like you?” you giggle, letting your nails lightly scratch his scalp, earning another soft sigh from the man in front of you, whose head falls softly against your stomach. “They want to see you again, you know.”   Hongjoong hums, his eyes closed as you speak softly. After a few moments of talking about your family, you continue, “Are you working on a song?”   When you don’t get a response, you glance down, a little confused. “Aw, baby,” you whisper, when you realize he fell asleep against you.

With the hands still buried in Hongjoong’s hair, you gently push his head off of you, enough to see his face, smiling when you notice his glasses are still on.   You gently move his head to lean against your left arm as you carefully remove the glasses before shifting to lean against his desk.   A smile appears on your face when you hear Hongjoong mumbling something. You feel your heartbeat speed up when you realize he’s saying ‘I love you.’   “I love you, too, Joongie,” you respond softly before your eyes find the coffee on the table, and you shake your head, laughing slightly. “The coffee’s gone cold, now, and you didn’t even drink any.”   When you get no response, as expected, you gently rake your fingers through his hair again, this time eliciting a small groan from Hongjoong.   Your eyes widen as you laugh, your slight shaking jostling Hongjoong awake. “What happened?” he asks, his voice low and slurred with sleep.   “Nothing, baby,” you giggle, collecting yourself. “Would you like to move to the couch?” He nods, letting you move away, though he still whines at the loss of warmth.   “You’re being very vocal today, Joong,” you quirk an eyebrow down at him as he moves to stand. “You definitely need sleep.”   “Gotta work,” he replies, but doesn’t resist as you guide him toward the couch.   “You can finish work tomorrow,” you tell him, settling down on the couch and pulling him with you gently. He collapses onto the couch, his face finding your neck as your fingers automatically find his hair again.   You grab the blanket draped over the back of the couch, pulling it over both of you. “Goodnight, Joongie.”   “G’night, baby, and happy anniversary,” he mumbles against you, causing a smile to grow on your face as you tighten your grip, letting out a small sigh of content.   And, as you press a gentle, lingering kiss to the top of his head, you realize that, even though Hongjoong did forget your anniversary, it isn’t even what is really important. What’s important is the love you two share all the time, whether you can be together a lot or not.   “Happy anniversary, Hongjoong.”

[heich0e]

you're almost giddy as you run your hands underneath the stream of cool water rushing from the sink's tap, an effervescence fizzling in the pit of your stomach as the sound of running water whooshes through your ears. you watch the soap suds circle the drain as your teeth bite down against the side of your cheek.

on the other side of the restroom door, you can hear the distant din of the restaurant creeping in, reminding you of where you are. the sound spurs you on and quickly, haphazardly, you shake whatever water is left clinging to the tips of your fingers away once the soap suds are gone—too eager to even bother with properly drying them. next, you fish your cellphone out from inside the little purse you'd brought with you that evening.

you tap the name at the top of your recent call log, and your roommate answers after two rings.

"date goin' so bad yer calling in the black ops squad for rescue? what's our story gonna be this ti—"

atsumu sounds entirely too pleased by the prospect of your date going badly, and it makes you all too happy to cut him off.

"it's going really well," you say, nearly breathless in your delight. it's been a while since you've been this... excited about a date. about a guy. "too well, actually."

"oh?" atsumu's voice lifts in surprise, but he doesn't say a whole lot else.

you hum affirmatively, reaching into your purse again to pull out a tube of lip gloss, pinning your phone between your ear and your shoulder to free up your hands to unscrew the lid. your eyes are fixed to the reflection of your mouth in the mirror as you swipe a thin coat across your lips. "i need a favour."

"'n what's that?" atsumu asks, his voice drying out into a monotone that indicates his distinct lack of trust.

"can you go in my room and shove any mess i left out into my closet?" you ask him before rubbing your lips together to evenly coat them in their lacquered shine.

atsumu guffaws from the other line. "'m i yer maid?"

"a second ago you were ready to go full boots on the ground as the black ops squad," you chide him. there's a moment of silence that passes in the restaurant bathroom, you can't even hear him breathing from the other line. finally, you speak again—softer this time, more sincere. "please, tsumu. i really like him."

he clicks his tongue behind his teeth in that admonishing way you hate, but there's a certain concession in the sound. "yer doing my laundry for a week."

"if the rest of the night goes as well as dinner, i'll do it for a month," you laugh, your cheeks pinching with how widely you smile.

"when are ya landin' here?"

"probably in like... an hour? we're just gonna have another drink or two." he grunts in recognition, even if he doesn't seem thrilled about it. "thanks, 'tsumie. i owe you one."

"ya owe me at least four," he grumbles. "try 'n keep it down once ya come stumblin' in all handsy and whatever, will ya? i don't need to hear all that."

"promise, promise!" you singsong. "you're the best."

"whatever," he answers with a stiff laugh, ending the call soon after.

you quickly tuck your phone back into your purse, adjust yourself one last time in the mirror, and then slip back out into the restaurant towards your waiting date.

the rest of your evening passes much the same as the rest had already unfolded—though something between you and the young man seems to shift as time goes on, turns more palpably yearning. it's no surprise that when you ask him if he'd like to come back to your place with you, he quickly agrees.

"is your roommate home?" atsushi—who you'd met at a work event a few weeks prior, and had been talking to ever since—asks quietly as you two step through the door of your higashiosaka apartment. he's pressed close to you in the genkan, a hand on your waist as he toes off his shoes, and his warmth makes you suppress a shiver.

you hum. "he sleeps like the dead though."

atsushi knows about atsumu, having revealed to him not long after you started texting that your long-time friend turned professional volleyball player is now your roommate. atsushi seemed to know who atsumu was, and even noted he looked forward to meeting him, but that would have to wait for another day.

there were more important things at hand.

you twine your fingers with atsushi's, using that grip to lead him towards your bedroom on the other side of the quiet apartment as your heartbeat thumps—hot and wet and noisy—in your chest. you close the door to your bedroom quietly behind you, and before you even have time to reach for the light switch you feel a soft pair of lips against your throat.

"oh," you gasp, your hands reaching up and threading through the silky strands of atsushi's hair.

it's an uncoordinated blur after that as you lead your date blindly towards your bed in the dark, tumbling back across it in a flurry of limbs and lust.

atsushi's hands slip up underneath the hem of your dress as he pants against your mouth. you wiggle a bit to help him ease it up over your hips, but there's something soft underneath you that makes it a bit awkward—a pillow taking up too much space. he goes to push the pillow off the bed, but it's bigger than either of you seem to anticipate.

he pulls back, squinting at it in the dark. he laughs, tugging the unexpectedly large mass up from underneath you. "what is this?"

you can't quite identify it, reaching over to your bedside table and flicking on the light to get a better look.

you really wish you hadn't.

in his hands, atsushi is holding a—not quite life-sized, but certainly much too large—pillow with atsumu in his MSBY uniform printed across it. you're so shocked by it that it takes you a moment to see anything else, but atsushi is not so fortunate.

"uh," his voice cracks a little as he peers around your room. "is this—?"

pasted on virtually any open space on your walls, and lining the various shelves and dressers of your room, atsumu's obnoxious face stares back. it's like the MSBY merch stall has set up shop in your bedroom—the only thing missing is the lineup of squealing teens fighting over the last sakusa jersey.

you're seeing red.

"i'm so sorry," you say, mortified, as you scramble upright in your bed and look at atsushi's startled face. "atsumu must have... i asked him to... oh my god."

you take the body pillow that atsushi still has clutched in his hands, more in shock than anything, and throw it onto the floor. he laughs a little, shaking his head.

"well, i definitely wasn't expecting that."

"this isn't my stuff, i swear," you insist.

he laughs again, but this time it's less strained, almost a giggle. he peeks over at you. "i believe you."

you bite your lip. "did this scare you off?"

he shakes his head, smiling shyly. "nah."

you sigh in relief as he dips down and kisses you again, cradling the nape of your neck as he leans you back in your bed once more. your head is spinning as he presses himself between your parted thighs, grinding gently against you. your eyes flutter open as you moan, but that sound turns into a small shriek of surprise that has him recoiling upright.

taped to the ceiling over your bed, almost perfectly mirroring your own position, an enormous poster of atsumu stares down at you.

that breaks you.

you slip out from underneath atsushi, standing on your bed and ripping the poster down as you reach up on your tiptoes. the sound of the glossy paper ripping is almost violently loud in the quiet of your bedroom.

"i'll be right back," you say, stiff but apologetic, to your bewildered date, before fleeing from the room.

you don't knock when you get to atsumu's room, throwing the door open and stomping inside.

he's sitting in his bed, watching something on his phone with a pair of headphones covering his ears. he looks up in surprise when you come storming in, and his gaze goes from amused to concerned when he sees the look on your face.

"what the fuck is wrong with you?" you seethe, struggling to keep your voice low in spite of your desire to scream. you're still clutching a shred of the torn poster in your clenched fist, and you toss it onto his floor angrily. he pushes his headphones down to rest around his neck.

"aw, c'mon," he laughs as he sits up a little straighter in his bed, but the sound is a bit forced. "'s just a joke."

"well, it wasn't funny."

atsumu's jaw twitches a little bit. "if the guy got scared off by a harmless little—"

"he didn't get scared off," you hiss, "no thanks to you."

that shuts him up.

"he's still in my room, by some fucking miracle." your hands are shaking, that's how angry you are. you feel sick. "i told you i really like him, atsumu. why would you do that?"

you wish you didn't sound so wounded. you wish atsumu's answering expression wasn't so blank in the wake.

"god," you say, with a mirthless laugh. "when are you going to grow up?"

if atsumu wants to say more, you don't give him the chance. you spin on your heel and head towards the door, but just before you exit the room, you look back at him one last time. your eyes are narrowed in resentment and sharpened with hurt.

"you're gonna wanna turn that volume up, because i don't plan on keeping it down for your sake."

atsumu says nothing in reply, just stares at you. there's something almost desperate in his gaze that you don't understand, and make no attempt to.

you leave his door open behind you as your final act of spite.