#i know hes watching over me probably yelling at me telling me to kiss this kid or say yes to this date or yes wear those jeans for the date

[loveesiren]

Doing It All For Us (Pt.6)

Masterlist

Rafe Cameron x Reader

Summary: The angst after sex is wild

Warnings: Language, smut, violence, knives, blood, drugs (cocaine)

Word Count: 4.8k+

You felt the heat of the morning sun on your face. Looking out the window you could see the sun begin to rise. You stirred slightly in Rafe's arms as you sat up to look around the room.

Rafe was still asleep, his arm draped over your torso. You could feel a pain between your legs as you remembered the events of last night. A plethora of emotions ran through you. You had sex with him. Like what?

You slipped out of bed, careful not to wake him. You left your dress on the floor, slowly sliding open Rafe's dresser and grabbing a t-shirt and a pair of his boxers. You pulled them on quickly and tied your hair back. You had obviously gone to sleep with wet hair because the beach waves were prominent.

You went for his door but stopped yourself. "Shit," You whispered, realizing his whole family was probably home. You were not taking the walk of shame through the Cameron's house.

You bit your lip as you looked at his window. Rafe stirred in bed and you squeezed your eyes shut, praying he wouldn't wake up.

He didn't.

You made your way to the window and opened it. Glancing back at your sleeping boyfriend one more time before you climbed out the window and onto the roof.

There was a tree sitting perfectly outside his window for you to climb down. And this wasn't your first rodeo. You and Courtney became pros at sneaking out back in LA.

You slowly lowered yourself, branch by branch until your bare feet touched the grass below.

You took a deep breath and looked around, making sure no one was watching you.

When you were positive you were safe you took off running down the street towards Courtney's house.

"Court!" You yelled as you pounded on her door.

Her mom answered the door. "Y/N? Are you okay? It's 8am."

"Oh, hey Helena," You greeted. "I'm fine, I just need to see Court."

Helena was in her robe, coffee mug in hand. "She's in her room," she said as she waved you in. She was obviously hungover from Midsummers.

You ran up to Courtney's room and busted inside, slamming the door behind you.

"Courtney!" You hissed as you jumped on her sleeping form. "Courtney, get up!"

"What the fuck?" She hissed, trying to push you off her.

"Courtney, I need you!"

"Okay, chill!" She said as she rubbed her eyes and sat up slightly. "What the fuck is going on?!"

"Me and Rafe had sex!"

"Oh my God!" She was up now. "How was it?!"

"I don't know, like, totally amazing," You said as you sat back on your knees.

Courtney looked over at her clock. "Wait, why are you here? Did you not stay at his house?"

You bit your lip and let your head fall to your hands. "I snuck out his window this morning."

"Y/N, why?!"

"I don't know!" You said as you stood up and ran your fingers through your hair. "I got scared."

"Y/N, he's your boyfriend."

"I'm aware, bitch. I just need a fucking minute!"

"Okay, well, like, did he make you cum?" Courtney asks.

You bite your lip and smile. "Multiple times," You sit down beside her. "Court, his dick is huge, and his tongue, oh my god." You fall back on her bed.

"Does your pussy hurt?!" Courtney asks excitedly, laying down beside you.

"I'm sore as fuck," You laugh. "I was bleeding after and he held me in the shower and washed me off and, Court, it was so fucking amazing."

"I'm so happy for you, Sunflower!" She said as she pressed a kiss to your forehead.

You felt your phone buzz underneath you.

"Is it Rafe?" Courtney asked, wide-eyed.

You pull your phone up. "Yeeeup,"

"What did he say?"

"He says 'Where are you? Are you okay?'"

"Tell him you're okay!" Courtney urges.

"Oh shit, he's calling me." You answer.

Y/N: Hey babe!

Rafe: Where'd you go, baby girl?

Y: Uhm, I'm at Courtney's.

Courtney: I got my period! I needed ice cream!

You were grateful for Courtney's cover.

R: Oh, well can I see you later?

Y: Yeah, yeah of course babe. We could meet at the club around noon?

R: Can't wait. Love you!

Y: Love you too!

"Oh my God." You sigh. "I'm a shitty girlfriend."

"Hey, no you're not," Courtney says as she takes your face between her hands. "You just lost your virginity. You're overwhelmed. It's completely normal."

You smile sadly at her. She presses her lips to your forehead. "Come on, let's get pretty," She says, dragging you off the bed and to her vanity. You smile as you sit in front of the mirror and get to work.

You spread sparkling purple shadow over your eyelids, lining a cat eye into your hood for effect. You pressed rhinestones all around your eyes and applied way too much blush to your cheeks.

Courtney stood behind you, straightening your hair as you finished your make up.

"Did it feel like love?" Courtney asks. "Like the sex? I've never loved anyone.."

You smile. "Yeah, it did."

Courtney smiles at you in the mirror. "You're so beautiful," She says as she runs her fingers through your perfectly straightened mane. "I'm so glad Rafe treats you well. I'd hate to have to slit his throat."

You laugh as you lean back against her. Keeping your eyes locked with hers in the mirror. "Do you ever want to fall inlove?" You ask.

Courtney shrugs. "Maybe. I just feel like I'm not ready to commit." She admits. "But watching you fall in love," She says as leans down and adjusts your hair over your shoulders. "Is all I could ever want." She kisses your cheek and walks in to her bathroom to fix her hair.

You fiddle with the 'R' that clings to your neck as you pick through Courtney's closet, already in your favorite blue bikini, you settle on a simple white dress. It hugs your breasts just right and comes down just past your ass, if you bend over you're sure to give people a show. You slip into a pair of Michael Kors flip flops and go to sit on Courtney's bed.

"You ready?" She asks. "Kelce and Top are already shitfaced."

"Did they even go home?" You chuckle.

"Probably not,"

You and Courtney run downstairs. "Headed to lunch, mom!" Courtney yells.

"Oh you girls look cute," Helena says as she gets up from the couch. "Meeting boys?"

"Y/N's dating Rafe Cameron," Courtney gushes.

"Oooh! He's a peach!" Helena says.

You blush. "Yes, yes he is. Love you, Hell!" You say as you pull Courtney out the front door.

"Wear condoms!" Helena shouts after the two of you.

You bite your lip as you stumble to Courtney's Mercedes. You and Rafe had not used a condom last night.

You climbed into the passenger seat. "Here, play something." Courtney said, throwing you the aux cord as she backed out out of the driveway.

"This song makes me feel alive," Courtney says as she lights a cigarette.

You giggle, taking a drag off the Newport when she hands it to you.

"I miss coke," You admit.

Courtney looks over to you. "Yeah? What about pills?"

You shrug. "Don't really care about pills. I just wanna be up."

"I have coke," Courtney says.

You turn to look at her. "Share bitch,"

"Y/N, I don't wa-"

"It's not opiates, Court. Come on, I really need a confidence boost. I'm actually nervous to see Rafe."

Courtney sighs as she pulls into the club. "Fine."

You clap your hands together. Courtney grabs the coke from her center console and pours out a pile, using her credit card to split it into four even lines. She rolls up two bills and hands one to you.

"Cheers bitch!" You say as you both lean down and inhale the lines. "Oh my fucking God," You say. "I fucking love cocaine."

You both hop out of the car and skip towards the club.

"Y/N!" You hear Rafe call after you. You and Courtney stop mid skip and turn to face him.

You swallow, trying to present yourself as normal. "Hey, babe!" You say, running and jumping into his arms.

Courtney stands awkwardly behind you. Failing at looking sober as she fidgeted.

Rafe notices and pulls back from you, taking your chin between his fingers as he forces you to look into his eyes.

"Are you high?" He asks, noticing your pupils are fucking popped.

"Shiiiit," Courtney says as she tries to sneak off.

"Did you get her high, Court?" Rafe asks as he places you on the ground.

Courtney backs away, hands up in defense. "She-"

"Yeah, I got high, Rafe." You interrupt. "I didn't do any fucking pills. Just a lil blow."

"Why?" He asks. His voice was broken. The fact that you had done drugs broke him.

"I-I don't know." You confess.

"Did I do something wrong?" He asks. Tears filling his eyes.

"There they are!" Topper and Kelce approach the three of you. "Let's fucking eat!" Topper says, pushing you all into the club.

You sat between Courtney and Rafe awkwardly. Kelce and Topper order Mai Tai's for the table.

"You guys okay?" Topper asks as he notices the three of you looking down.

Rafe had his arm resting on the back of your chair, covering his mouth with his hand as he looked off in the distance.

You grasped Courtney's hand under the table as you felt a panic attack rise. You were enjoying your high until Rafe fucking ruined it.

"Awh, how cute." You heard a familiar voice say. "Wining and dining the junkies?" Maria said.

"Rafe, does your little junkie girlfriend make you cum like I did?" Jessica teases as she leans over the table.

"Oh, ya'll are dumb." Kelce says before you and Courtney stand up. You grab a steak knife off the table and lace your fingers through Jessica's hair. Courtney twists Maria's arm behind her back and pushes her towards the door.

All eyes were on you know as you pushed these sluts out of the club.

Rafe, Kelce, and Topper ran out after you.

You slammed your foot into the back of Jessica's knees. Causing her to cry out in pain and fall to the ground as you held the knife to her throat.

"I'm fucking sick of the two of you!" You scream.

Courtney throws Maria into the dirt and steps on her back so she can't move. "Stay down, bitch!"

You had the knife pressed so close to Jessica's throat blood was starting to trickle down her neck as she cried.

"If you two speak to us ever again, I will fucking kill you." You whisper in her ear.

"Hear that, bitch?" Courtney asks Maria, pressing the heel of her foot deeper into Maria's shoulder blades.

"Y/N!" Rafe yells, yanking you off of Jessica. You pry yourself out of his arms.

"You were with this cunt?" You ask, pointing your knife towards Jessica.

"Y/N, I don't-"

Before he could finish, the cops were pulling up to the club.

"Shit," Topper said. "Run!"

You and Courtney fucking booked it out of there. Taking off down the beach. You glanced at Courtney. She nodded her head, knowing exactly what you were thinking.

The two of you grew up swimming. You dived into the waves and swam your way out to sea.

"The cave!" Courtney yelled. You dived under the water and followed her to the secret spot the two of you shared. Courtney had showed you the mini cave when you first moved here. You promised each other you'd never tell anyone about it.

Once you both entered the cave you pulled yourself up on to the small shore that sat inside.

"We'll have to get out of here before the tide comes in," Courtney states.

"Did we just fuck up our lives?" You ask as you held your knees to your chest.

"No," She shakes her head. "We need a break from the boys. And those bitches can fucking die."

"Rafe hooked up with Jessica." You stated sadly.

"He doesn't care about that bitch," Courtney said. "She blew him for coke."

"Rafe's just been around and I'm so...inexperienced." You say.

"What does it matter? He loves you."

"Courtney," You start. "Love gets you hurt. I don't want that."

Courtney turns to look at you. "I'm here for whatever you choose. But I think you should stay with Rafe."

"Why?"

"You're pushing him away cuz you're scared. I've been on this island for four years. Rafe Cameron has never cared about anyone but himself until he met you."

You bite your lip and hug your knees to your chest, watching the salt water wash against your toes.

__________

"What happened here?" Shoupe asks.

Rafe, Kelce, and Topper back up, hands in the air.

"We were just checking on them. We heard a commotion and came out." Kelce explains.

"So you didn't see who did this to them?" Shoupe asks as the officers look over Jessica's wounds.

"It was Y/N and Courtney!" Maria yells.

"Your girlfriend is a fucking cunt!" Jessica spits at Rafe.

"Well maybe if you didn't constantly run your whore mouth!" Rafe says as he runs towards her. Topper and Kelce hold him back.

Tears fill Jessica's eyes. "Yeah, cry about it bitch!" Rafe yells. "You never meant shit to me! You're a fucking mess!"

"What's your fucking problem?!" Maria spits.

"My problem?! This piece of fucking garbage won't leave me alone and now the fucking woman I love swam out into the goddamn ocean! Why can't you two sluts just fucking drop dead!"

Topper and Kelce stayed quiet as the girls started crying.

Rafe spits in Jessica's direction. "You're a fucking cunt."

Rafe scoffs and heads towards the beach where you and Courtney had disappeared.

Maria comforts Jessica as she sobs.

"You guys should really of minded your own fucking business." Topper tells the girls before heading off after Rafe.

Shoupe pinches the bridge of his nose. "I'm so fucking over these goddamn kids." He says. "Come on ladies, let's get you home."

"You're not going to go after that psycho bitch?" Maria yells. "She held a knife to Jess's throat!"

"We will have a dive team come out and look for them. They couldn't have gone far." Shoupe says as he helps Jess and Maria into the back of his car.

_____

"How much longer can we stay here before we drown?" You ask Courtney as the water came half way up your stomach.

"Probably one more hour," She admits, nuzzling against your shoulder. "We should probably get back to shore."

You nodded in agreement.

The sun was almost completely gone. Darkness draping the sky with a slight tinge of sunlight.

"You ready?" Courtney asks.

"Right behind you,"

Courtney dives into the water and you follow her. Making your way out of the cave and heading towards the shore.

You flip over, opting to back stroke so you could appreciate the sunset as you made your way back to land. Being in the water was where you preferred to be.

When you finally reached the sand you sat for a moment. Pressing your body against the warm grains.

"Baby!" Rafe said as he ran to your side. "Baby, are you okay?"

"Yeah, Rafe. I'm fine." You said dryly. Of course he was waiting for you on the beach.

"I was so worried." He said as he pulled your head to his chest.

You couldn't help yourself. You just wanted to push him away.

You tried to pull back. "No," Rafe said, bringing you back into him. "You're going to talk to me."

He helped you to your feet and ushered you down the beach.

"We'll be here!" Kelce yelled after you.

Once you were away from earshot Rafe let it all out. "Y/N, what did I do? What's going on?!"

You just lower your body to sit in the sand as you rest your head in your hands.

"You regret it." Rafe says. "I'm so fucking sorry. I would take it back if I could. I never meant to make you feel this way." Rafe sat beside you, tugging at his hair.

"No, baby..." You begin. "I don't regret it. Not at all. I just got scared." You look up to meet his gaze. "And...I'm just jealous that half these sluts on the island have slept with you." You clench your jaw.

"It's really not that many." Rafe says.

"I'll slit all their throats and drink their blood from a chalice." You mutter.

Rafe smiles, pulling you in to meet his lips. "You making that bitch bleed was the hottest thing I've ever seen."

"Why'd you stop me from killing her?" You ask, wrapping your fingers around his throat.

"Because I'd kill myself if you got locked up. Living without you is my worst nightmare."

You smile at his response.

"Fuck me, Rafe."

Rafe doesn't hesitate to untie your bikini and toss it to the side. He quickly pulls down his shorts and lines you up on top of him. Holding your hips, he helps you sink down onto him. You were still sore from last night but the stretch felt amazing.

Rafe Cameron was inlove with you. You could tell with each thrust as he ran his fingers through your hair.

"Beautiful girl," He said as he thrusted into you harder. "Absoluetly perfect."

"Shut up," You moaned.

"I can't help it. I'm obsessed with you," He says as he rolls you over, pressing your back to the sand. "You're God's most divine creation," He panted into your ear. "Aphrodite,"

"Rafe-" You could feel yourself reaching your high again.

"That's right, pretty girl, cum for me."

Rafe thrusts into you hard a few more times before he releases himself inside of you. You can feel his cum coating your walls and you wrap your legs around him, preventing him from leaving your body as you pulsed around him.

"We're going home," He whispers in your ear. He quickly helps you to your feet, wrapping your bikini bottoms back around your body and tying them sloppily.

You could feel Rafe's cum dripping from your body as you stumbled beside him. You could hardly stand. He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you upright.

"We're going to Y/N's. If you wanna ride, get to steppin'" Rafe demands.

Everyone stands up and heads towards the truck.

Courtney grabs your arm and pulls you behind the group. "Are you guys good?" She asks.

You smile and giggle. "Yeah, we're good."

_______

You and Rafe fucked like rabbits. Your friends could barely get the two of you to hang out. His hands were constantly groping your body. Just feeling him close to you turned you on.

"Can ya'll chill for like 5 minutes?" Courtney chuckled, pushing a shot towards you and Rafe.

You bit your lip and smiled at her.

"You're a horn dog," She said.

"Sex is addicting!" You giggle.

"Oh so Rafe is the best you've ever had?" Kelce teases.

You bite your lip. "Mhmm. Only man I've ever had. And I don't think anyone could compete." You say as you turn around and take Rafe's face between your hands.

"Wait, you were a virgin?" Topper asked shocked.

"Wait, what?" Kelce chimed in.

Courtney just laughed and sipped her drink as the boys jaws dropped to the floor.

Rafe pressed his tongue to his cheek as he tried to hide his smile.

"And you let this meatloaf take your virginity?" Topper added. Pointing at Rafe.

"He happens to be very good at what he does." You smile, pulling Rafe into a kiss.

Rafe kisses you back passionately as he flips off his friends.

"I dare you guys not to fuck for two days," Courtney says as she sits on the counter and pours shots. "You have to spend time with us," She motions to her, Kelce, and Topper.

"Yeah, I could actually use your help with this Sarah shit." Topper said sadly.

"She's with John B, huh?" You ask as Rafe sets you on the counter and rests his head against your shoulder.

"Yup, she wants to be a fucking Pogue." Topper hisses.

"Well cuz of you, her little Pogue boyfriend is living at my house now." Rafe scolds.

"Wait what? Why?" Courtney asked.

"Topper here pushed John B off the Hawk's Nest after Midsummers. Now my dad has taken him in."

"I didn't mean for him to fall, dude." Topper argued.

"Wait so John B is at Tannyhill?" You ask.

"Yep!"

Topper grinds his jaw. Hating the fact that he lost Sarah to a Pogue.

"Top, fuck her." You say. "She's a cunt. We all know that. You deserve a good girl. A fucking Kook princess."

"She was that," Topper said sadly.

"Look man, jokes on her cuz look who she's with." Rafe said, placing his hand on Topper's shoulder.

"And you don't have to go near Tannyhill," You told him. "You can stay here whenever. Rafe's always here anyways, besides when he's working. And Sarah can't come here. I'll tell her to kick rocks if she tries."

"Thanks," Topper offers sadly and throws back a shot. "How's things with your dad, Rafe?"

Rafe shrugs. "He's letting me work again. He's still an asshole though. It's all about Sarah."

You roll your eyes. Annoyed that Sarah Cameron was causing so many problems for the people you care about. "Come on!" You say as you hop down from the counter. "Let's go get drunk at the club!"

"DOWN!" Courtney agrees. "I can drive."

"We have our bikes," Rafe says, gesturing to Topper and himself. "Wanna go for a ride, baby?" Rafe asks as you all exit the house, grabbing your hips and pulling you into him so he can place wet kisses down your neck.

"Two days!" Courtney yells at you. "Come on, Kelce." Courtney and Kelce climb into Courtney's car and drive off.

Topper gets on his bike and takes off. "Here you go, sweetheart." Rafe says as he hands you his helmet. "Hang on tight, yeah?"

You nod in agreement and wrap your arms around his waist as he starts his bike and kicks off towards the club.

When you pulled up to the club, you slipped the helmet off your head and shook your hair out, running you fingers through the waves to get them unknotted.

"That was fun!" You told Rafe.

He smiled at you and threw his arm around your neck as he led you into the club. Heads turning as usual as you walked inside. You spotted Jessica and Maria glaring at you. You blew them a kiss and wrapped your arm tighter around Rafe, knowing he was yours and no one else's. The two bitches were even more upset now knowing that you had enough money at your disposal to get rid of any charges against you, no questions asked. It seems they finally learned to keep their goddamn noses out of your business.

You all grab drinks at the bar and you and Courtney lounge in some beach chairs and tan while the boys play corn hole.

"Did you see how mad they were?" Courtney laughs as she looks over at you, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"At least they've finally learned their lesson," You scoff. "I swear I was ready to kill her."

"You're a psycho,"

You laugh. "You know, I've felt a lot more calm lately."

"Cuz you're getting dicked down daily by that!" Courtney says as she turns to look at Rafe.

You follow her gaze, sliding your sunglasses down your nose as you admire your boyfriend. Your mouth watered at the sight of him. Ready for him to take you in the bathroom and fucking ruin you.

"Ugh, snap out of it!" Courtney groans. "You're worse than me!"

"I can't help it! He's just so fucking perfect. And his dick, my God, Courtney."

"You've told me. You're an addict." She chuckles.

"No shame," You say as you both lean back into the sun.

You sipped your drink as you listened to Topper continue to cry about Sarah. You were glad he was venting to the guys because you were quite frankly sick of hearing about her.

"RAFE CAMERROOONNN!" You hear a familiar voice yell.

"Oh shit, is that Barry?" Courtney asks as she looks towards the entrance of the club.

You hold your breath, remembering what he did to Rafe last time. You quickly pull your knife from your bag as you watch Rafe and Topper walk over to meet him.

"Y/N...don't." Courtney says but you ignore her, following the boys out to where Barry was obviously upset about something.

You stood back a bit as you listened to the boys talk.

"My little sister robbed you?!" Rafe asked, confusion in his voice. "Sarah wouldn't pick a dollar up off the street!"

Fucking Sarah again. You had tried to be kind to her at the beginning. Since you were so close to Rafe and Topper. But now, the bitch had another thing coming.

When Barry grabbed Rafe and threw him to the side you acted quickly. Whipping out your switch blade and standing between the two boys.

"Not another fucking step!" You hiss at Barry, trying your best to shield Rafe with your small figure.

Barry laughs. "Well shit, Country Club's got himself a lil body guard, huh!"

You feel Rafe wrap his arm around your chest and pull you back into him as you continued to point your knife at Barry, eyes narrowed, showing no trace of fear. You honestly weren't scared of him. You'd dealt with plenty of drug dealers back in LA and one coke head from the Cut wasn't going to take you down easy.

"Baby," Rafe whispered in your ear, pulling you back.

"I'd listen to your boyfriend, sweetheart," Barry teases you. "Ain't got much protecting you." He says as he eyes your body. All you had on was a bikini, you hadn't even bothered putting your shoes on.

You attempt to lunge towards him again but Rafe holds you back, now wrapping his other arm around you, trying to cover you from Barry's gaze.

"Figure this shit out with your sister, Cameron! If it's not from you it's from her! Remember that!" And with that, Barry walked back to his car and drove off.

"Jesus, Y/N!" Topper says, finally letting out the breath he'd been holding.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Rafe asks, turning you around to face him.

You tucked your knife into the waist band of your bikini. "Protecting you," You spat back at him.

"Y/N, he's a maniac! He could have hurt you!"

You scoff. "You don't think I can handle my shit?"

"That's not what I'm saying! I just don't want you to get hurt! You gotta stop being stupid-" He stops himself when he sees the pain cross your face. "I didn't...I didn't mean that..."

You bit back your tears before pushing past him and making your way back into the club.

"Y/N!"

"Dude, what are we gonna do about this?" Topper asks Rafe, stopping him from going after you.

"It's not my problem, man."

"Rafe! This is Sarah we're talking about! Give Y/N a minute to cool off before she pulls a knife on you too."

Rafe looks at you one more time and then back at Topper. "Alright, let's go."

_____

"Can you take me home, Court?" You ask as you throw your knife in your bag and slip your shorts on.

"Uh, yeah. What was that all about?"

"Doesn't matter. You have any yay?"

"Some. Not sure if I'll be able to get more after you just pulled a knife on Barry!" She scolds.

"You can just fuck him for more."

Courtney scoffs. "What's your problem?!"

You sit down and sigh. "I'm sorry, Court. Rafe just..."

She sits down beside you.

"He got pissed at me for wanting to protect him."

She lays her head on your shoulder. "I'm sorry, babes. He didn't mean it. He just wants to keep you safe."

"I want to keep him safe too."

"And you do. It's just a guy thing. Not the best look for them when their tiny girlfriend is more threatening than them."

You both laugh.

"Come on. Let's go home. I'm sure Rafe will come back after he's chilled out."

You nod. "Okay."

____

You railed your fourth and final line of coke.

"All gone," Courtney says sadly as she sucks on the bag.

You had told Rafe you wouldn't do it again. Not after the other day. But you were stupid right? Stupid bitches do stupid shit.

Courtney sat and played with your butterfly knife as you sat back on your bed, irritated as hell.

"I'm getting pretty good at this!" She said as she flipped it around her fingers. You had far too many knives for a 19 year old girl. But you didn't like guns. And growing up in LA, you learned you needed protection. Plus, they were fun. You'd get them custom made in cute colors to match all your outfits.

You heard the front door open and close and you sighed. You silently prayed it was your dad, even though you knew he was in fucking Ireland, maybe he'd come home early. You were still upset with Rafe and not ready to deal with him.

But of course, Rafe Cameron walks into your room. His eyes were bloodshot, as were yours. The tension hung thick in the air.

"I'm gonna go..." Courtney announced. She placed the knife on your bed and slipped out past Rafe. "Call me later!"

You and Rafe stared at eachother for a moment. Accepting the fact you were both absolutely zooted.

"Thought you were done with coke?" Rafe said, taking a few steps towards your bed.

"Stupid girls do stupid things," You said sadly.

"Y/N, I didn't mean that." He sighed, sitting on the edge of your bed. "I was just upset. Scared. The thought of someone hurting you..."

You sit up and meet his gaze.

"Look, I know you were just trying to protect me. I love you for that. But if I was the reason something happened to you..."

"Rafe," You began. "I feel the same way about you. But I need you to know that I will always protect you. I'd die for you."

"I don't want to live without you..." His voice breaks as he says it.

"So don't..." You say as you inch towards him. "We die together."

Rafe looks up at you. "What do you mean?"

"Like Romeo and Juliet. You die, I'm coming with. I die, you follow me."

Rafe smiles at your words. "That sounds like a fucking deal to me," He says, leaning in and kissing you.

"I want my name on your skin," You breathe.

"I want mine on yours. You're mine, til death do us part."

[j1mmys-darl1ng]

.ೃ࿐scarring and scaring.ೃ࿐

Pairing : tate langdon x reader

Warnings : mentions of sh, blood, use of y/n, probably mischarecterisation

A/n : im so sorry for not making a new fic, life has been really kicking my ass right now and literally the worst thing i thought could happen happened. Ill try and write a few more fics before October (im not participating in kinktober).

You were dragging the small, pointy metalic object along your arm, adding more pressure each time before you let out a small yelp. Shit. Tate is definitely gonna give you a scolding when he finds you like this.

You wash off the blood, watching the water turn red and then transparent again. You had ran out of bandages the last time this happened so you just pull the sleves of your hoodie down.

"hey, y/n, everything ok in there?" you hear Tates voice through the door. You knew he wasnt an idiot and would definitely know somethings up. He always does.

"uh... Yea.. Im fine" your voice wavers slightly towards the end, seeing the blood bleed through your sleeve. Holy shit. Mabye you went deeper than you thought.

"ok well im not leaving till you open this door, im not an idiot. I know whats going on in there"

You feel a pang of guilt in your gut, knowing you promised him that you would stop. But this time was the first in a while. You can just predict the 'you were doing so well' thats going to come out of his mouth.

You know he wont leave until he sees how much damage youve done. Its not really like he has anything better to do due to being bound to the house and all that crap.

"the door isnt locked.." you tell him, feeling too ashamed to open the door yourself.

He opens the door.

You see his eyes go down to your sleves.

"pull em' up" he tells you. Its not a question, its a command.

As you hesitantly pull your sleves up, the blood smears up with it, creating a bloody mess up your arm. Your eyes begin to spike with tears, your lip begining to tremble and your breathing getting shakier.

"c'mere, let me clean this since i know you wont" his voice is softer now, his disappointment clear but he knows better than to yell at you when your in a glass state. Both fragile and he can see through your words.

He begins to rinse the cuts, using a cloth to wipe the blood away. His cheek rests against your shoulder as he does this.

"you promised me. You swore that you wouldnt do it again, y/n."

".. i know.."

"do you?"

After rinsing out the wounds to the best he could, he pats your arms down with a towel, also adding a bit of pressure to stop the bleeding. Despite the cuts not being fatal, the more pressure you were adding with the tool was making it worse.

After a few minutes, he removes the towel, bandaging your arms with a secret stash he had hidden from you. It was tight but not too tight it would cut off your circulation.

He presses a few small kisses onto the bandages, his thumb rubbing over them gently. It was a sweet moment. One that never usually occurs.

It felt nice.

A/n : shout out to the swaggy discord server im in and shout out to lily for watching sleepover last night with me over a discord call

Thanks for reading! <3

[xbellaxcarolinax]

Okay but imagine sex pollen with Miguel fucking you on your back and then even when he cums he just keeps going and it’s spilling out and refractory period who and you’re overstimulated and he’s like no no you’re not allowed to tap out and he — and he —!!!!!

Sorry

MONA. You put me in a fucking MOOD LMFAO This is way longer than I intended. And its pure filth 🫣

Word Count: 2k+

NSFW below the cut.

Part 2

...

Earth 703- A post-apocalyptic world in which New York was nothing more than a ferocious jungle.

You stared off into the distance, the familiar city skyline overrun by wild flora and thick green vines sneaking in through broken windows and cracked concrete. 

“What the fuck.” You whispered to yourself, eyes now trained on the massive dragonfly that whizzed by you. Miguel grunted, punching a large finger over the screen of his watch.

The mission was supposed to be simple: Catch the anomaly—send them back to their own universe—go home. That’s it. No detours, no distractions. In and out.

“Are we close?” You questioned, pressing up against Miguel’s side at the sight of another massive insect, “I wanna get the hell outta here.”

“We just missed him.” He sucked his teeth. His mask disappeared in a flash of digital pixels to reveal his scowling face, narrowed red eyes and brows furrowed in frustration.

You’ve been wandering around the city for forty-five minutes, trekking through the godforsaken jungle with no luck. The anomaly, a Prowler from some random universe (you couldn’t remember, you weren’t paying attention at the meeting), was clever, quickwitted, and inconspicuous. You’d wished Miguel had chosen Jess for this one, but he’d refused. He’d used the excuse of her pregnancy but really, she’d already complained to you beforehand that the humidity would do her hair no favors. 

“What now?” You questioned, plopping down at the base of a bulky tree trunk a few feet away. The trees were so massive that the branches seemed to kiss the sky, monstrous green leaves blocking out most of the morning sunlight.

“Keep lookin’,” he huffed, running his fingers through his hair, “we’re getting close.”

“Miguel,” you whined, your head thumping back against the trunk, “you said that forty-five minutes ago.”

“Get up,” he demanded, shooting out a web of electric red to swiftly pull you toward him. You yelped, crossing the distance within seconds, crashing into Miguel's sturdy body.

“I hate when you do that.” Your words were muffled by his broad chest, peeling your sweaty cheek away from the synthetic material of his suit. The tiniest smile ghosted over his lips. 

“I know.” 

… 

You’d left Miguel on his own for a few minutes. 

You’d gotten distracted, swinging up into one of the treetops to observe one of the colorful parrots squawking in the distance. It’d looked just like the ones back home, except this one was enormous, probably bigger than a medium-sized dog. 

“Fuck!” You’d heard Miguel yell from down below, spitting out curses in Spanish, choking on the words as coughs racked his body. He’d been waving his hands in front of his face to clear his vision to no avail. You watched as his body reacted immediately to whatever it was that ailed him, his body hunching over as if in pain.

“Miguel!” You dropped to your feet in front of him and attempted to reach for him, but he recoiled, fearing your touch. 

“Stay back!” he wheezed, crouching down and holding his head in his hands.

“What’s wrong?”

“It hurts,” he groaned, his eyes screwed shut as his body trembled, his fingers weaving through his thick hair strands to violently tug from the root.

“Stop,” you scolded, getting on your knees in front of him to pry his hands away, “tell me what’s wrong so that I can help you.” You shoved him down by the shoulders so that he was sitting with his knees out, bringing a hand to his face and yanking it up by his chin. His eyes, normally a mahogany shade glowed a disturbing red, his pupils dilated. 

“Ran into a plant,” he forced the words from his throat, his skin gleaming with sweat, “s-some flower, I don’t know, some kind of pollen.” He groaned again, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Shit, ok, ok, ok, we can fix this,” you panicked, placing the back of your hand against his forehead. He was burning, skin blistering hot. “Where does it hurt.”

Miguel remained silent, breathing harshly through his nostrils as beads of sweat began to trickle down his face. He looked down between his legs and you followed his line of vision. Oh. OH.

His bulge was tenting through his suit, fighting against the restraints of the digital fabric. The area glimmered brightly before his cock burst through the pixels, flopping out and twitching with need.

Miguel was big. 

His cock stood tall and proud, bobbing against his stomach, the tip leaking a thin bead of precum that ran down his length. 

You stared for a moment, transfixed on the angry red tip before you found your voice. “Miguel—”

“You need to go,” he spat viciously, his fangs protruding as if to scare you away, “if you don't I’ll—” He stopped himself, lips pressed into a tight line as his chest began to heave. You could hear his heart rate accelerate with every passing second.

“Let me help you,” you whispered, your hand hovering over his cock. He looked away from you, his skin flushed from his cheekbones to the tips of his ears. “Miguel, please, let me help you.”

“I don’t want to force—”

“You’re not forcing me,” you breathed, letting the pad of your finger tap against his tip, smearing his precum over the surface. Your cunt throbbed, squeezing tight with an overwhelming desire to be filled. “I want to.” You cooed, your tone causing his eyes to flutter. 

Miguel grunted, grabbing your hand and placing it over his throbbing cock.

“Then help me.” He hissed.

…

You needed a new suit. Immediately.

Miguel had torn into it, ripping the seams apart from the crotch, all the way up to your neck, revealing your chest and glistening pussy. You had no time to complain, mewling when he spread your thighs apart with his large hands, his eyes trained on the heat between your legs before diving in to eat from you.

You squealed, your hands flying to his head as he kissed and licked and spit over your cunt, his nose pressing against your clit. His tongue dipped into your hole a few times before licking one long stripe up to your bundle of nerves, swirling his tongue around it before sucking it into his mouth.

Okay—you’ve had your pussy eaten before, but goddamn never like this, never like it was a matter of life or death, as if your pussy alone was the answer to all things.

Miguel continued his ministrations, releasing a growl every few moments, licking to oblivion until you thought his jaw would lock. 

He made you see stars, groaning loudly as you gushed into his mouth. He savored your tangy taste as he lapped at your wet folds, making sure to lick up every drop he could find. 

His mouth and chin were soaked in your juices when he came back up, and it shot a fresh wave of arousal through your veins. His hand reached out to cup your face, his thumb smearing over the traces of his cum dotting across your cheek when you’d sucked him off earlier, catching some of it in your mouth before he'd pulled out, wanting to paint your face with it at the last moment. 

He dipped his thumb into your mouth, forcing you to clean it as he slid his cock over your messy pussy, smearing the underside in your juices. His body shook with need, his eyes glazed and lidded, teeth sinking into his lower lip as he whimpered something about you being so wet.

He pulled out his thumb from your mouth with a pop and watched how you panted underneath him, your exposed skin now covered in a sheen of sweat.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, positioning your legs over his shoulders before draping himself over you, folding you in half, “I’m sorry if I’m not gentle.”

Gentle? You were a big girl, you didn’t need him to be—

You cried out as soon as he pressed his fat head into your tiny hole, forcing your pussy to open up for him as he pushed in deeper without giving you much time to adjust.

“Fuck,” you sobbed, your hands scrambling to grip his arms as he began to thrust his hips, dragging his cock in and out of you at a bruising pace. 

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Miguel began to babble, grunting when your cunt squeezed the life from him, the slick noises of your drenched pussy egging him on. 

Maybe…gentle would have been nice knowing now how big he was, but you understood the circumstances of the situation. This was meant to be anything but gentle.

He had you coming again, your back arching and your bare chest pressing against his clothed one before he filled you with his own spend, pushing it as deep as he could into you. He pulled out harshly causing you to moan, watching his cum leak from your swollen pussy before slapping his length over your folds a few times and dipping back in.

He fucked you harder this time until your pussy throbbed and burned from the size of him, filling you up with so much of his cum, and delighting in the way it dripped out of you. 

“Again.” He grunted, pushing his cock into your convulsing walls, slamming in deep as he licked and sucked on your nipples, leaving red love marks over your skin. You sobbed from the pleasure, feeling his weight push you into the ground.

“I can’t!” You cried, pushing weakly against his shoulders.

“You can and you will.” Miguel commanded. He couldn’t stop, barely giving you a minute to catch your breath after making you both cum again before sinking into your searing heat, stretching you beyond your limits.

You were lightheaded and spent, losing count of the number of orgasms he’d given you. Miguel growled, pulling out his cock from your abused hole and shooting his load over your body. He pressed it into your skin, smearing it over your breasts and tender nipples, down your abdomen, and finally, over your burning pussy. 

He paused, his eyes tracing over your fucked out form before reaching down to pump himself with the leftover cum in his hand.

“I’m sorry, Hermosa,” he whispered, draping himself over you again, “I can’t stop, you feel too good. So fucking tight.” He slurped your nipple into his hot mouth, sucking the taste of him from your skin as he pushed his large cock into you. 

Your eyes fluttered and you cried out, your fingers digging into the earth, focusing on nothing but Miguel's rich voice:

I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry I’m—

…

It was nightfall by the time Miguel was satiated.

You felt weak, eyes heavy with sleep and body limp. Miguel sat against a tree and had you cradled in his arms, your body nestled comfortably between his legs. He rested his head over yours, inhaling the scent of sweat and dirt trapped in your hair. 

“See that flower?” He muttered, pointing straight ahead at a few giant white daisies clustering around a tree. They were massive, like everything else in that universe, the stems taller than Miguel when he was standing at his full height. You nodded sleepily, ignoring the ache in your still exposed cunt. “Don’t go near it.”

“Got it.” You absentmindedly played with the frayed pieces of your suit, letting Miguel shield your exposed skin from the elements.

You probably should’ve left already, should’ve gone back to HQ for a much-needed shower and rest, probably schedule another meeting, but Miguel wouldn’t budge, his grip on you tightening whenever you so much as shifted against him.

“Quèdate quieta.” He grunted.

“Miguel,” you protested, “we have to go home. The anomaly—”

“I know, hermosa,” he murmured softly, “I know.” You never seen him this soft before, nor speak in such a gentle way, not with anyone and least of all, not with you.

You both sat there in silence, processing what happened while listening to the sounds of the jungle, the birds chirping in the distance, the leaves rustling in the gentle wind. You sighed, playing with his interlocked fingers over your stomach. It was strangely intimate (despite everything else that happened), having him coddle you. 

“Miguel?”

“Mm?” 

“You better get me a suit like yours.” 

“What’s wrong with the fabric ones from HQ?”

“It’s a waste if you’re just gonna rip it off again.” You heard him snort out a breath, just the tiniest thing that implied he understood your meaning. You were hoping this wouldn’t be the first nor last time you’d be under him. “We got a deal?” 

Miguel chuckled, his hand leaving the safety of your abdomen to venture down into your sopping-wet folds. You bit your lip, spreading your tired thighs, whimpering as his thick fingers swirled inside.

“Deal, Hermosa.”

...

Quèdate quieta- Keep still

[sinning-23]

Calling Them By Their Full Name

OPLA Headcannons! I thought htis was a funny little thing lol. Anyway enjoy

Warnings: slight mentions of nsfw topics but nothing too serious

Sorry for any spelling errors!

Luffy

-ohhhhh that did not sound like your usual happy, loving voice.

-he knows he fucked up and now he’s hiding from your wrath.

-“MONKEY D. LUFFY, GET YOUR ASS IN THIS KITCHEN. NOW.”

-you could hear a pen drop from how quiet the ship got

-ok so maybe he ate that super expensive, super special dessert you had been saving for a while now. And like, it was going to go bad! All he wanted was a little taste! Than a taste turned into accidentally eating the whole thing.

-He was gonna tell you, honest! But it had proven obvious you found out before he could. He seen you round the corner with RAGe on your face and tears in your eyes.

-"TRAITOR!" You yell, throwing a tired punch to his chest.

-“I’m sorry mami, I’ll find you another one. Promise.” He hums, peppering your face with kisses, squeezing your face between his palms when he did.

-There’s no way you could stay mad at him for long

Zoro

-whoa whoa whoa why are you so ANNNGRY

-hated when you call him by his full name like that, makes him feel like a child being reprimanded

-“RORONOA GODDAMN ZORO.” You boom, Nami’s jaw dropping at the sound. Even she could tell you were pissed

-he’s the sassiest mf alive so he’ll probably just be like, “who the hell are talking to woman?!”

-“You’re a real piece of work you know that??” You’re still yelling and he wastes no time rolling his eyes at you and grabbing you by your waist, the action shutting you up.

“Wanna stop yelling and be a big girl and tell me what’s wrong?” He teases, that stupid smirk you love falling over his features at your speechlessness.

-It’s not often you say his full make but when you do he makes sure you’ll never forget it that same night.

-“Say my name baby, real loud.” He groans, a hand around your throat to steady spent body as he slams back into you

Sanji

-I know thats not a cigarette i smell Vinsmoke Sanji."

-awe hell. Yout tone is deadly. he tried he damndest to stomp it out before you rounded the corner but nope.

-You never use his full name like that. Never.

-did he just get chills?

-"Of course not my love!" He lies throigh his teeth but before he can say anything ese you re lips are on his, you fist gripping the fabric of his shirt.

-He knew he was caught, the taste of tobacco mixing with your usual mint. You pull away, smoothing his shirt out with a warning smile.

-"Don’t lie to me again, I’ll always know when you do, Black Leg." You explain , taking the small cardboard box from his pocket and walking off.

-Even though it was ment as a threat, he couldn't help but feel hotter than ususal. God he loved it when you talked all serious to him.

Bonus: Mihawk

-You know better than to use his full name. Orr to even call him anything besides the usual endearing pet name.

-So when he hears his name called with nothing short of rage, hes trying to figure out who you think you’re talking to.

-"Dracule. Mihawk." You spit, holding the empty bottle in your hand

-Ok so your rage was warented cause he managed to drink the entire vintage bottle of wine you'd been saving...it wasn’t like it was on purpose!

-He doesn’t even bother to look up from his book, just barely giving you a slight glance when you were right in front of him, pointing to the bottle.

-"Id watch your tone darling." he warns, smirking at the way you purse your lips and turn away with a fierce attitude he'd be sure to deal with later.

-“Oh shove it up your ass Dracule.” You scoff, trying to quicken your pace but failing when he’s already behind you, his much larger hand holding your wrist as you yelp.

-His look says it all. You’re screwed.

-So now you’re sitting pretty, bent over and counting each time his hand meets the sore and slightly reddened flesh of your ass.

-“Now, what’s my name again darling?”

[the-froschamethyst4]

Ex-Husband Simon

Simon Ghost Riley Headcanons

————

————

Ex-Husband Ghost will sign the papers only because he knows you were hurting. He’d be gone for a long time and wouldn’t even know if he was okay or not

Ex-Husband Ghost would feel bad when he’d come to pick the kids up and they don’t understand why their mom and dad aren’t together anymore and why they see him 40 days out of the year

Ex-Husband Ghost who tries his best to keep in contact with you and your kids

Ex-Husband Ghost who cried himself to sleep because he was wondering what he did wrong as a husband

Ex-Husband Ghost who can’t stand the sight of you with another man. When he first went to go pick the kids up and sees you with a man standing on the front porch his hand on your waist. It pissed him off seeing that

Ex-Husband Ghost and when his daughter told him that you were pregnant with that man’s kid, it pissed him off even more, but the reality of remembering that your not his anymore hit him like a brick. He can’t dictate who you have a kid with, you had 2 with him

Ex-Husband Ghost picking up the kids again and he sees you with your big belly with that man’s child

Ex-Husband Ghost his kids expressing how they don’t like their mothers new boyfriend because he could be mean to them for no reason

Ex-Husband Ghost who finally got a chance to talk to you without the court involved or your new boyfriend

“Did you know he was an asshole to the kids?”

“What? No he’s not, Simon, he yelled at them one time because they made a mess, he never yelled at them after that. He knows better.”

“That’s not what the kids told me.”

“Simon-“

“Think about it and I’ll tell you what they told me.”

Ex-Husband Ghost who hates seeing you upset and when the next time he picks up the kids sees you upset and he knows it had something to do with the man

Ex-Husband Ghost who learns you two broke it off and you went to the hospital after having a miscarriage because of stress

Ex-Husband Ghost after he learned that he would pay much more child support then he was suppose to and even brought you groceries

Ex-Husband Ghost who still misses you every time he sees his kids

Ex-Husband Ghost who invited you to come to the park to watch the kids play.

“I’m sorry about the break-up.”

“I learned that he was cheating on me…”

“How long?”

“5 weeks after you had told me he yelled at the kids and when I confronted him about the yelling he told me he was cheating and then started to throw out that the child was probably not his and someone else’s…”

“Y/n-“

“Don’t…I’m here for my kids.”

“I know…”

Ex-Husband Ghost who would still buy you flowers for no reason, the just-because flowers.

“Go give these to mama,” he tells his daughter after she got out of the car.

“Okay,” she takes them and runs towards her giving them to Y/n and smiling down at her daughter moving them inside the house. She turns to Simon and blows him a kiss.

Ex-Husband Ghost who still owns his Kawasaki. He pulls up into your driveway and sees you walking out of the house arms holding you as you move your sweater over your body due to it being cold.

“It’s cold Simon, did you drive here on that?”

“I did…I wanted to see if you wanted to go on a ride?”

“Simon, the kids-“

“They’re okay…I promise just around the neighborhood, nowhere else.”

“Okay,” he pulls out her helmet from his backpack, helping her put it on and helping her on the back.

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts being invited back into your home because it was your children’s idea. They wanted their daddy back in the house to have dinner, and for him to play with them

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts coming over to help you a lot more than before. Before it seemed like Simon was married to his work…not his actual wife.

Ex-Husband Ghost who starts helping you with your sexual needs

[planetaryupscaled]

Honeymoon 2: Afterday

Male Reader x Yunjin x Somi

Tags: 6k, anal, creampie, food play, gxg, oral, threesome

The story is not ours; we simply alter the original story to our preferred settings

I laid in bed with thoughts of the previous night dancing in my head. The image of Somi’s face screaming out in bliss as she came played on repeat in my mind. I was in a very peaceful and erotic sleep when all of a sudden, I was awoken by the feeling of someone jumping on top of me.

“Babe, wake up!” I heard Yunjin yell. I slowly opened my eyes to see a smiling Yunjin looking down on me. “Morning!”

“What time is it?” I asked still groggy and tired from the previous day.

“Just after eleven. You missed breakfast.” Yunjin stayed straddling my lap over the sheets. She was dressed in just a pair of loose shorts and a tank top.

“Sorry about that, hope you didn’t mind eating alone,” I told her as I closed my eyes and rubbed my hand back and forth along her bare leg.

“I wasn’t alone, I ran into Somi down there and ate with her.” That snapped me out of my morning haze.

“Somi?”

“Yeah, I saw here entering the dining area when I was at the omelet bar, so we sat together. She was telling me about this secret nude beach the hotel has up the road. I told her we’d go with her today.” I tried to hide the mini panic attack I was having at this news. I had no clue what Somi was up to. Did she just enjoying toying with me in front of Yunjin, or was she out to destroy my relationship? I didn’t know how I’d be able to control myself around Somi at a nude beach since in the last 24 hours she’d already gotten me to cheat on my new wife twice.

“Really? I was thinking we could just relax in the room today. You know, take a bath together in the tub. Maybe do that thing we were walking about with the whipped cream and chocolate sauce,” I then moved her off me. “Though first I think maybe we should do something about this.” I lifted off the sheet and exposed my dick to the sunlight.

“Maybe I should leave you two alone to take care of that,” another woman said, “Unless you want some help.” Looking to the doorway, there was Somi leaning against the doorframe smiling while looking at me and Yunjin on the bed. She was dressed in a bikini top, a sarong, and flip flops.

“Oh shit!” I said in surprise and quickly pulled the bed sheet back up to hide my nakedness.

“Yeah, I probably should have mentioned that I invited her up with me,” Yunjin laughed at my shock.

“It’s not that big a deal Minho, I was going to see it anyway at the nude beach,” Somi chuckled and gave me a wicked grin. “How about I just meet you guys downstairs in an hour?”

“Sounds good,” Yunjin agreed.

“Okay. Bye, Minho. Or should I say, big dick Minho.” Somi giggled before turning and leaving.

“I think she likes you,” Yunjin said before leaning down and began kissing the side of my face and neck.

“Yunjin are you sure about this whole nude beach thing? And going with her? Wouldn’t it be better if we just stayed here together?”

“Come on, I really want to go. Somi made it sound like fun and it’s totally private. Her company sent her and the rest of the staff here before her next tour, and a bunch of them went, and no photos of any of them or anything ever came out. I can’t even imagine that kind of freedom.” Yunjin continued to kiss her way down my body. “How about you think it over, and while you do that, I take care of you?”

She removed the bed sheet and slipped off her shorts. Quickly she was back to straddling my lap this time there was nothing between our privates. Yunjin rubbed her lips up and down along my shaft which was pressed up against my stomach before raising up and lowering herself down onto my cock. It felt amazing having Yunjin ride me again but as I watched her, my mind was also flashing back to last night and the prospect of watching Somi run naked through the ocean waves.

“I love you,” Yunjin told me as she leaned over me

“I love you too,” I told her and we kissed. I closed my eyes as I felt her tongue slid into my mouth. We made out tenderly. However, with my eyes closed, I was now picturing a wet naked Somi emerging from the water and jogging in slow motion towards me.

“God Som… you feel amazing,” I said as we broke off our kiss, almost saying Somi’s name by mistake. I spun us over so Yunjin was on her back and we fucked in missionary position. We kept humping one another, Yunjin wrapped her arms and legs around me. She made me keep eye contact with her until she finally came on my cock. Watching her beautiful face contort as she came set me off. I quickly pulled out just before I came. Splashing her pussy lips with my cum.

Yunjin reminded me that we needed to get ready to meet Somi down in the lobby. I took a quick shower and threw on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts. Yunjin was dressed similarly to the way Somi was earlier, with a bikini, a sarong, and sandals. She grabbed her beach bag with our towels and stuff as we headed out.

“Are you sure about this?” I asked Yunjin as we rode down the elevator.

“Yes, I’ve never been to a nude beach before. I always had to worry about paparazzi showing up or someone else taking pictures. Why are you not more excited about this? You’re about to spend an afternoon on a tropical beach with a naked me and Somi. I’m pretty sure there are millions of men out there who would literally kill to be in your place.” Yeah, she was right. I needed to relax and somewhat enjoy today. Or at least pretend to, so I didn’t make Yunjin suspicious of anything.

“Yeah I know, I just wanted to make sure you’re cool with this.” The elevator doors then open and we stepped out. Somi was in the lobby dressed the same as before, only now she had a big bag similar to Yunjin’s as well. Somi already had a car waiting outside to take us to the private cove where the beach is. The ride was only about 5 minutes before we were let off at dirt lot that was surrounded by trees. Yunjin and I followed Somi as we walked on a path between the trees that led to a set of stairs that which went down to the beach of the secluded cove. Somi had said that this nude beach was pretty private, and she was right. The place was still on resort property, the opening to the cove was roped off so boats and jet skis could not come in, and unless you were with someone who knew where the beach was it was doubtful anyone would ever find it. As we walked down the stairs, I could see a couple dozen people were also at the beach. A number of which seemed to be couples of various ages, there was a group of 7 or 10 college-age girls and several guys who seemed to be alone and just there to check out the women.

As we got down to the beach, Somi and Yunjin went to find us a clear spot while I went over to where they were renting out beach chairs and got one for myself. As I walked back over, I noticed some of the single men watching Yunjin and Somi lay out their beach towels. After I put my chair down in the sand, I tossed my phone and wallet into a beach bag and took off my shirt.

“Wow, somebody got kind of kinky last night,” Somi said, referring to the hickies Yunjin had made on my neck and collar bone. Though at least two of them had been made by Somi herself.

“Yeah, I guess I got a little carried away last night,” Yunjin said.

“You don’t remember doing it?” Somi asked while taking off her top and exposing her breasts.

“No, I was pretty drunk by the end of the night,” Yunjin replied. She then looked around and took a deep breath before taking off her top as well. The two women then dropped their sarongs and bikini bottoms and stood totally naked on the beach except for their sunglasses. “Alright Minho, your turn.”

I grabbed the waistband of my shorts and got ready to push them down, but right as I was about to drop them, I watched as Somi spun around and bent over to get something out of her bag. Of course, she kept her legs perfectly straight as she bent over giving me a great view of her ass and her pussy peeking out underneath. As I pushed my shorts down, I prayed for God to give me the strength not to break down and fuck Somi right here on the beach. When she finally stood up, she had a bottle of sunscreen in her hands. I couldn’t help myself from getting rock hard as I watched Yunjin and Somi rubbed their bodies down with the lotion.

“Stop staring and put on some sunscreen,” Yunjin said while throwing the bottle at me.

“And remember at a certain point you’re no longer applying lotion, you’re just playing with yourself,” Somi teased as Yunjin started applying sunscreen to her back. I laughed, though when it did come time to put lotion on my crotch, I could not help but give my meat a couple of extra strokes.

Over the next two hours, the three of us enjoyed ourselves and the beach. The girls sunned themselves on the beach and I tried to do some reading, though could not help but check out the two ladies. I found myself sitting in my chair comparing the two women’s bodies.

Both had dark areolas, but while Yunjin’s nipples were nubs, Somi’s were more like pencil erasers that stuck out. Both had completely shaved their pussies, Yunjin’s was a total innie, while Somi had slightly longer inner lips that stuck out a bit. Somi had a nicer ass and toner legs. As much of a distraction as they were on the beach, in the water they were not better. Yunjin and I made out some and fondled me, but we also played around with Somi a bit. Just the usual kind of horseplay with dunking one another under the water and me tossing the girls a bit. This led to some purposeful groping by Yunjin and some “accidental” touching by Somi. Somi and Yunjin had fair share of guys checking them out and I saw the group of college girls look me over, though no one thought anything of our touching. Somi told us that that kind of stuff was not a big deal. She’d seen far worse at the beach and then pointed to a couple at the far end of the beach who were clearly fucking on a beach chair.

“That kind of thing happens here all the time. I don’t see him here today but there is a local bartender guy at the resort’s dance club. I swear his cock has to be a foot long and all he does during the day is hang out here hoping to bang with one or more girls who are on vacation. He’d be all that group over there,” Somi told us while pointing at the group of college girls as we stood in waist high water. “I remember coming down here for a sunrise yoga session, by the way, Yunjin they do naked yoga here at sunrise every day and you should total try and do it before you leave.”

“Okay, that sounds great.”

“Anyway, I just remember leaving when it was over one morning and watching him just plow two girls on the picnic table over there. When he came it was like a super soaker went off.”

“You and him ever hook up?” I asked.

“No. He’s got a big dick and all but he’s kind of an asshole. He tried hitting on me once, but literally, all he did was walk up to me, shake his dick in my face and ask if I was interested. When I said no, he just walked on to the next attractive girl,” Somi told us. “I’m thirsty, you guys want anything?” Yunjin and I both asked for her to get us water. She then sauntered out of the water, giving an extra wiggle to her ass as she walked. I turned to Yunjin and she wrapped her arms around my neck and gave me a kiss. I kissed her back and moved us back into deeper waters.

“You having a good time?” I asked her.

“Yes,” She gave me another kiss and wrapped her legs around me. Her sex now pressing right up against my erection. I let out a groan as felt her press harder up against me. All the teasing and spending time around these two naked beauties had me hard almost the entire time and it was starting to take its toll on me. “I told Somi to stop her teasing. I can tell it starting to get to you.”

“Thank you, but you know I love you, right?”

“Of course I know that. But you’re only human. If she keeps accidentally rubbing her ass against you and bending over in front of you, I almost wouldn’t blame you if you snap and jam that big dick of yours into her. God knows she’s been asking for it.” Yunjin didn’t know the half of it. While she may have seen some of the touching Somi had done under the water, what she had not seen was earlier when she went to the bathroom Somi basically pounced on my dick and deepthroated me for a blissful two minutes. She sucked my cock hungrily but made sure to stop before she had to worry Yunjin seeing us and before I could have a chance to cum.

“Please, this dick is only for you,” I told my wife and then used my hand to take aim and thrust into her under the water. Yunjin bit her lip to muffle her moan as I pushed my full length between her folds. The two of us just stayed in the ocean like that, with my dick soaking inside her as we kissed and talked lovingly to one another. I gave a few slow and gentle thrust but mostly I just let my cock soak in her pussy as to not draw attention to ourselves. I don’t know how long it would have taken for me to cum from doing that, but I was not given the chance to find out as we were interrupted by Somi yelling at us from the water’s edge that she got us some food. We begrudgingly decoupled and walked back to our beach towels to join Somi for a mid-afternoon snack.

After we ate the girls went back to sunning themselves and I hopped back into my chair and tried to get some reading done. I was finally starting to actually concentrate on my book when I noticed Somi moving around. She had sat up on her elbows and now had her chest up thrusted into the air as she tilted her head all the way back to look at me sitting behind her.

“So… does that thing ever go down?” Somi asked referring to my ever-hard dick.

“I’m hanging out with a pair of the most beautiful women in the world, both of whom are naked, and I haven’t been able to get off. The fact that my dick hasn’t exploded is a borderline miracle,” I half-joked.

“Yeah, I’m going to have to take care of him as soon as we get back to the hotel. I’m starting to feel like we’re torturing him,” Yunjin added

“Why don’t you just take care of him now?” Somi asked.

“What?” Both of us said.

“I told you before, people have sex out here all the time. So just go on and blow him. The poor guy needs it badly,” Somi encouraged her.

“Are you sure?” Yunjin asked. I was going to say she didn’t have to, but it would be really hot to do it, and I was super fucking horny. Yunjin rolled onto her stomach and crawled over to me. With her now on her knees in front of me, she looked up at me and asked, “Do you think I should?”

“I... I can’t answer that. You can’t really expect me to answer whether or not I think you should give me a blow job.” Yunjin looked around to see if anyone was watching, and then started to lean down and go for it.

“Yes, yes,” Somi said excitedly as she got up on her knees and got moved closer to get a good view as Yunjin stuck out her tongue and began licking the head of my cock.

“Kind of salty,” Yunjin said before opening her mouth wide and started going down on my dick. God, her mouth felt amazing. I could not help myself from putting my hand on the back of her head and pushing her head down on my dick.

Normally, I was not the kind of guy who would take hold of Yunjin’s hair and move her head up and down, but I was so desperate to get off I could not help it. Yunjin just put her hands on my thighs and let me bounce her face up and down on my cock.

“Umm yeah, make her suck that big cock.” Somi encouraged me. Looking over to her, Somi was watching us closely, but also sat back on her knees far enough that I could see her fingering herself as she watched. “Fuck that beautiful face.”

“Oh god, Yunjin, your mouth feels so fantastic. I can’t wait to cum, and then get you back to the hotel and just pound that pussy of yours up against the wall,” I told Yunjin as I continued to bounce her head up and down my pole.

“Do it. Cum in her mouth.” Somi moaned while she had on hand work her cunt and another playing with her nipple. “Cum in her mouth, and Yunjin, when he does, don’t swallow. Just collect it in your mouth and then show it to me. I want to see your mouth full of his juice.”

“Oh god,” I moaned. I was close to cumming. My eyes darted back and forth between Yunjin sucking me off and Somi playing with herself. “Shit, uggghhhh,” I grunted as I came, locking eyes with Somi as I came in Yunjin’s mouth. Just like she asked, Yunjin collected as much of my cum in her mouth as she could, though some ran out of the corner of her mouth. Yunjin turned to Somi and opened her mouth to show her my jizz in her mouth. Then something happened that shocked both me and Yunjin. As she opened her mouth, Somi pounced on her. She quickly wrapped her hands around Yunjin and pulled her in for a big open mouth kiss. I watched her shove her tongue into Yunjin’s mouth and saw as the two ladies shared a forceful kiss with my cum passing back and forth between their mouths, some of it ran out of the mouths and down their bodies. Watching this made my dick even harder than it was before the blow job.

Somi eventually let go of Yunjin’s face and she backed off a bit. Yunjin looked completely stunned by what just happened and had no reaction as Somi then sucked off some of the cum that had dribbled down Yunjin’s chest. It was so hot to watch, had I not been so shocked I would have pushed one of them over and started fucking them. It didn’t matter which one.

After that whole display, we all agreed it was time to get back to the hotel. We got dressed quickly, Yunjin called for a car as we walked back up to the parking lot. I was planning on getting in the backseat with Yunjin and Somi for the ride back to the hotel until a Toyota Yaris pulled up to drive us back to the hotel and I was forced to sit in the front passenger seat. Despite being a short ride, it felt like forever. I was dead serious about wanting to fuck Yunjin up against the wall as soon as we got back to the hotel. Behind me, I could hear Yunjin and Somi whispering back and forth and a sudden gasp from Yunjin.

When we got back to the hotel, I took Yunjin’s hand and speed walked through the lobby to get to the elevator. I did not even realize Somi was still with us until we were on the elevator. When the elevator got to our floor, I pulled Yunjin off and we both yelled goodbye to Somi. The two of us practically sprinted to our room.

“Where is your key?” Yunjin asked as we approached the door.

“It’s in my wallet, I threw it into your bag earlier,” I told her. Yunjin dug through her bag as we stood in front of the door.

“I don’t see it, but I found my key,” she said as she pulled it out of her bag and stuck the keycard into the door. She opened the door and I pushed her in. Letting the door close behind us I grabbed her bag and tossed it into the room.

“Remember what I said on the beach about fucking you against the wall?”

“Yeah,” Yunjin replied wrapping her arms around my neck, knowing what was about to happen. I pushed my shorts to the ground and then picked up Yunjin. She wrapped her legs around me and I pulled her bathing suit to the side. We kissed hungrily with open mouths as I pushed her against the wall and jammed my cock into her cunt. I pounded her hard against the wall. Neither of us were saying anything other than moans and grunts as we fucked hard against the wall. At one point my leg buckled a bit but that did not stop us. Yunjin dug her fingers into my back as I regained my balance and I swung her over so that we were no longer banging up against the wall, but instead were up against the hotel door. I could only imagine what the banging and moaning against the door must sound like to people walking in the hallway.

“God babe, your pussy is so fucking wet. You must have really gotten off on giving the blowjob on the beach.”

“Yeah. It was so hot. I couldn’t believe I actually did that. It was so sexy. And then the kiss with Somi afterwards and her fingering me in the car. It was incredible.”

“She fingered you in the car?”

“Yeah. We were talking about the beach. She asked if I got turned on by what happened, and before I could answer she pushed two fingers into me.”

“Holy fuck, that’s so hot. I can’t get that image out of my mind. I’m going to cum soon.”

“Do it babe. Cum for me. I want to feel you cum inside me.”

I kept pounding her cunt until my dick burst inside her. Even though I had just cum less than an hour ago, my cock still erupted with the force and volume as though I hadn’t touched myself in a month. Yunjin came as I continued to cum in her.

After we were done fucking, we retreated to the shower to rinse the sand, salt water, sweat, and in Yunjin’s case, semen, off of each other. Once we were clean Yunjin went to take a nap and I ordered something special to be brought up to the room later tonight before joining her in bed.

I slept for a good two hours and when I woke, I was happy that Yunjin was still asleep so I could set up. I quietly went and pulled out a hidden bag with candles in it. I set them up around the living room and opened the door when room service showed up. They wheeled in a small chocolate fountain, with a bunch of strawberries, a couple of cans of whipped cream, and four bottles of champagne.

When the room was all set up, I went back to the bedroom and woke Yunjin up. She smiled happily as I told her I had a surprise for her. She went to go put some clothes on but I told her she would not need any.

“Oh my God babe, this looks amazing!” she said as she saw what I did with the living room. She gave me a kiss before running over to the chocolate fountain. She dipped a strawberry into the fountain and ate it. “Oh wow, that’s really good,” she said, “Ummm, this is all really sweet and all, but I am starving and I don’t think chocolate covered strawberries are going to be enough.”

“I was the same way earlier, there’s pizza under the skirt of the fountain table.”

“Awesome.” I watched her ass as she bent over in front of me and pulled out the pizza. The two of us ate and drank champagne naked on the couch in a candlelit room. Once the pizza was gone, we moved on to dessert. We started dipping strawberries in chocolate and spraying whipped cream into each other mouths. We were also now on our second bottle of champagne. Of course, the alcohol also led to us dripping some whipped cream and chocolate sauce on to one another, which led to us licking those drips off one another. 20 minutes later we finished off the second bottle, and I had Yunjin laying on her back with chocolate sauce dripped all over her tits and nipples, and whipped cream sprayed all over her pussy. She was moaning I went down on all fours to lick her clean.

I had her breast licked clean and now had legs up in the air as I cleaned her body of whipped cream. We were both totally focused on one another to the point that neither of us heard when our hotel room door opened and closed.

“Oh wow, this looks really romantic.” I didn’t have to turn around to know who was standing behind me.

“Somi you’re here,” Yunjin said as I stopped eating her out and dropped her butt back to the floor. Turning my head I saw Somi standing in the doorway in a romper that had a zipper going down from the collar to the crotch. “Wait, why are you here?”

“Your man left his phone and wallet in my bag so I just wanted to bring it back.” She held them both up and tossed them to me as she walked over the fountain.

“Is that all?”

“Umm-hmm.” She said as she ate a strawberry.

“Oh please,” Yunjin said with her speech slightly slurred from the champagne. She stood up and walked over to Somi. “Just admit that you want to have sex with my husband, or me, or me and my husband, or whatever.” Yunjin dipped her fingers into the chocolate and then took them and pressed them into Somi’s mouth.

“Just admit you came down here looking to have sex,” Somi responded by nodding and sucking Yunjin’s fingers clean. Once she had sucked all the chocolate off of them, she pulled Yunjin’s fingers from her mouth and pulled in Yunjin for a kiss. Unlike the beach, this time it was much softer.

I watched as the two women made out. Somi grabbed a can of whipped cream and sprayed both of Yunjin’s nipples, then bent down and licked the cream off. Once Yunjin’s breast was clean, Somi repeated the act again. Yunjin reached for the zipper to Somi’s romper and slowly pulled it down. Once the zipper was down far enough, Somi shrugged the top of the romper off, and it hung at her waist. Yunjin then dipped a strawberry in chocolate and began painting Somi’s chest with it. I watched as my wife began licking chocolate off the tits of the woman I had cheated on her with the night before. Once she had licked her clean, Yunjin turned to me and waved me over. As I made my way over to her Yunjin, she gave me a kiss.

“Fuck her good,” she whispered into my ear.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“I know you love me. This is just sex. She’s been teasing you and asking for it all day. Now give it to her.”

I turned my attention to Somi. Unlike yesterday or earlier today where she had been giving me dirty sexy looks, Somi now stood topless in my hotel room with an innocent look on her face. I knew this was just for show. I took one step forward and she lunged towards me. We made out passionately and I shoved her romper down to the floor, leaving all three of us totally nude.

“Fuck me hard. I want you to pound the fuck out of me in front of your wife,” Somi said before jumping up and wrapping her legs around me. I spun her around and sat her down on the cart with the chocolate fountain. Somi let out a loud moan as I pushed my dick into her. Yunjin moved behind me and pressed her tits into my back as I began pumping Somi’s cunt.

“How does it feel? Do you like how my husband fucks you?”

“Yes! It feels incredible. I love his dick. We should have just done this on the beach,” Somi moaned. Somi leaned back and tried to bring my mouth down to her nipples, but as she leaned back, she knocked over the fountain causing the chocolate to spread and puddle over the floor. We all stopped and looked at the mess we made on the wood floors. It gave us all pause, but there was nothing we could do about it now and we were all so drunk on lust it really didn’t matter. I reached down and picked up another bottle of champagne. Shook it a bit and after the cork went flying the liquid shot up and sprayed over Somi’s body. Just like last night, I willing began lapping up the champagne off of the body of the blondie in front of me. This time however I was fucking Somi and I was sucking the liquid off her breast and occasionally giving her nips a bit of a bite. Yunjin continued to press her tits into my back as she alternated between kissing my neck, nibbling on my earlobes, and whispering words of encouragement as I fucked our new friend. The whole situation was the thing that dreams are made of.

I was getting close to cumming, but I didn’t want to give my load to Somi. Or at least I didn’t want to give her this load. Picking Somi off the table, I dropped her down on the floor in the middle of the spilled chocolate sauce. Once she was laid down in the chocolate, I dipped my hand into the spilled sauce and then smeared the chocolate onto her crotch. I then took a can of whipped cream, put the tip into Somi’s cunt and gave her a spray. Somi gave an “oh” as she felt the spritz of cool foam sprayed into her.

“Yunjin, why don’t you eat out your friend.”

“She does look tasty,” Yunjin replied. Yunjin got down on her knees and elbows in front of me, and as she began eating the cream out of Somi’s wet pussy, I moved into place behind Yunjin. I gave her ass a hard slap before taking hold of her hips and I plunged into her and began fucking her hard. The three of us stayed like this for a while. Somi on her back getting eaten out by Yunjin, who was on her knees and elbows getting fucked doggy style by me, all the while we were all in the middle of a large puddle of spilled chocolate sauce. As we fucked eventually there was a chain reaction orgasms. Yunjin was first as she came on my dick and moaned loudly into Somi’s love tunnel which caused her to cum, and the combination of feeling Yunjin cum and watching Somi’s “O” face pushed me over the edge and I erupted inside my wife once again. After we all finished cumming, I rolled Yunjin onto her back and picked the can of whipped cream back up.

“Somi, don’t you think you should repay Yunjin?” Somi didn’t say anything, she simply smiled broadly and rolled onto her knees. As Somi began eating her ass, I sprayed Yunjin’s tits with some whipped cream and began eating it off of her. The two of us doubled teamed Yunjin’s body, I would kiss and play with Yunjin's tits while Somi ate her pussy. A few times Somi went a little further, lifting her butt up and licking her chocolate covered ass. At one point even sticking her finger into her ass while she sucked on her clit. We did not stop our attack on her body until we gave Yunjin a powerful orgasm that made her body shake. The time off from fucking had given my dick a break and now I was back to full mass and ready to give Somi a pounding.

Getting behind her I pushed Somi’s back down so that her ass suck up more. Her ass was covered in chocolate sauce from laying in it earlier. I could not help myself from giving her ass a few licks, before taking hold of her hips and pushing my dick into her. Somi happily pushed her ass back towards me, making sure I was fully into her. Somi and I just pounded each other. The entire hotel room filled with the sound of our grunts, moans, and skin slapping both from me jackhammering her pussy and from me actually slapping her ass which I knew from last night she loved.

While this was going on Yunjin merely sat back and watched as I fucked her friend. At one point she came over to me and kissed me. I reached out and took some whipped cream and sprayed it on Somi’s ass. Then just like I did with her pussy earlier, I pushed the tip of the can into her ass and gave it a spray.

“Lick her ass,” I told Yunjin. She looked at me hesitantly at first then gave me a kiss before turning her attention to Somi. Yunjin began eating Somi’s ass while I continued to pummel her pussy. Somi loudly yelled out as she came hard on my dick. After she came, and the whipped cream was all gone I told Yunjin to back off. Taking what was left in a bottle of champagne I dumped it over Somi’s ass, making sure it was nice and wet before I took my dick out of her pussy and slammed it into her ass. Somi quickly had another orgasm as I fucked her ass.

“I wish I was recording this” Yunjin said as she masturbated while watching me fuck Somi’s ass.

“Me too,” Somi grunted, “I wish I had a video of tonight for when I am alone on the road.” Somi had me stop temporarily, but it was just so that I could roll onto my back and she could ride my dick reverse cowgirl. I watched as my meat slid in and out of her backdoor as she bounced on my rod. I could feel her fingers occasionally brush against my balls as she was obviously rubbing her clit as we fucked. It took a good minutes before I finally came. Blowing my load all up into her ass.

After I came, I thought I was done but apparently, the women were not done with me. I was pushed onto my back as Yunjin used her hand so smear some of the excess chocolate sauce that was still on the floor onto my dick and Somi took a whipped cream can and sprayed my crotch until the can was empty. The two women then went to town on me. They used their tongues to clean the chocolate and cream off of me, while they were also doing their best to stir my cock back to life. At first, the two of them seemed to be fighting and pushing for position, but after two minutes they found a rhythm and seemed to be working in connection with one another. Once the sauce & cream were gone, the two women worked in perfect harmony with each running their lips up and down the side of my cock simultaneously. Had I not known better I would have thought that this was not the first time Yunjin and Somi had been in a threesome together. They had my dick more than back up to full strength.

Yunjin then bump Somi out of the way and got in position. Swinging her leg over my lap, she sank down on my cock and began riding me. As Yunjin bounced on my dick, Somi pulled Yunjin face towards her and the two women kissed. Yunjin rode me hard for a good two minutes before Somi pushed her off of me and took her place. Somi worked her hips even harder and faster than Yunjin dead. Instead of staying at her side, like the way Somi did before, Yunjin moved back and straddled my face. She dropped her pussy down on my face and giving me no other option but to eat her out. After another couple of minutes, the girls switched positions again. This went on back and forth several more times. One woman would ride my cock while the other would ride my face. Occasionally they two women would make out, or grope each other, or suck on each other's tits.

“Oh god, I can’t hold back much longer,” I said as Somi got off of my face. Yunjin had already cum twice and Somi once from our current position. Knowing I would be spent after this next orgasm I tried to hold it off as long as I could, but couldn’t anymore.

“On her face,” Yunjin said as she rolled off me, “I want you to cum on her face.” Yunjin pulled me up to my knees, and Somi laid down in front of me. My cock hung over the top of Somi’s forehead, and Yunjin took hold of me with one of her hand. She began to stroke me, and Somi smiled brightly as she looked up at the handjob happening above her face. It took less than a minute for me to cumming. Somi giggled as my cum rained down on her pretty face.

When it was over, we were all exhausted. We were also filthy. Covered and chocolate sauce, dried whipped cream, sweat, and other bodily fluids from one another. We didn’t even bother to fool around in the shower as the three of us rinsed our bodies clean before going to bed. That night I slept peacefully with Somi and Yunjin cuddling on either side of me. The next morning I awoke as I felt movement on the bed. I opened my eyes but it was still dark outside.

“What’s happening?” I asked.

“We’re going to go do that morning yoga Somi mention, but you can go back to sleep,” Yunjin answered.

“Okay.” Yunjin gave me a kiss before climbing back off the bed.

“Yeah, you better get some more sleep, you’re going to need all your energy for later,” I heard Somi say before the girls left and I tried to go back to sleep. Reflecting on the past couple of days I found myself wondering if this some long coma dream or maybe I had died and this was heaven. This was all too amazing to be real. Either way, it didn’t matter and I was going to make the most of my current situation for however long it lasts.

[nouvxllev]

skill issues

Pairing: Tara Carpenter x G!p!Reader

Summary: in which you got reeled into a bandwagon of a fps game by mindy, anika, and chad.

Words: 2.6k

Warnings: smut. just pure smut.

a/n: i just love the idea of tara carpenter being a clingy partner (also my first time writing just a chapter full of smut.)

masterlist.

The clock ticked midnight. Probably even pass that. Actually, you didn't know anymore. Whatever was on your mind was completely erased and replaced by tiny pixels moving in your screen.

Ever since you've joined Tara's friend group, you've also been reeled into a bunch of activities they do on a daily basis. To binge watching scary movies you've begged them not to drag you in, to playing games they recommended to you.

You regret participating in the latter.

It's not like you were having fun, hell, you were having too much fun with this simple FPS mobile game they pulled you in, but the deep dark circles under your eyes were starting to show and you don't really eat anything except for the meals Tara cooks for you. Which are greatly appreciated by a kiss.

"Y/n, what the fuck!? I told you to cover me!" Mindy yelled over your headphones. Actually, it was Tara's headphones desperately lent over to you after days of quiet shouting that didn't really help.

You crouched in reply, knowing Mindy was spectating your character.

You killed, not one, not two, not even four people, but six at once in a group! 3 headshots and 3 body kills. You were pretty proud of yourself, honestly. You just started the game a few weeks ago and you're only getting better and better, you wanted to brag to Tara but she was fast asleep beside you. She was always beside you whenever you play those games with the group, cuddling you as you hold your phone up in the air, but she always ends up falling asleep when you do.

Chad laughs over his mic, "damn, we should've invited Y/n a long time ago. She's good at this game."

You laugh in response, bringing your voice to a whisper. "Even I didn't know I had this in me."

Ever since you and Tara finally made it official, you packed your things and said good riddance to your home and lived together with Tara. It was unexpected, even she was surprised by the spontaneous decision, but the two of you were happy in paradise. Not until you got dragged into the whole 'gaming with those two dipshits™ (by Tara Carpenter, of course.)'

"Anika—! Anika—Wait, shit Anika!" You scream, regrettably, while shooting the opposing team down. Obviously, the luck you had earlier had worn out and you were now staring down at your dead character, groaning.

"I didn't know they were there!" Anika apologized.

"Skill issue." Mindy chimed, you could tell she was leaning back in her chair, looking smug.

"Definitely." Chad blurted, a huff of air he let out.

You rolled your eyes. "Those who didn't carry the team with their 6-kill streak should actually shut up." You went back to the home screen after gg'ing the other team

"Another round?" You exclaimed, and the others cheerfully agreed in the background.

You forgot, for a split second, you were beside one of the most lightest sleepers in the world; your marvelous girlfriend Tara Carpenter. Someone could breathe in her vicinity and she'd almost immediately wake up. Which is why she's staring you down, burning holes in your neck, unimpressed look on her face.

"Y/n," she groaned, "I thought you'd be done by now."

You turned to look at her, and you could only hope it was the darkness fooling your eyes since Tara looked like she was about to scream if not for her reminding herself that you were her girlfriend.

You muted your mic, "One more round, I promise."

"You always say that." She whispered, her arms wrapping around your waist as you were sitting up and you almost melted in her arms, a sigh you let out.

You let your other hand let go of your phone and let your hand relax on her head, soothing her worries of you being on the verge of being one of those mentally unstable gamers who discarded their whole entire life.

Tara was still awake, you could tell by how she tilted her head slightly to look up at you and back to whatever game it is you were so engrossed in.

It was only a few seconds later before Mindy, Anika, and Chad were screaming into the mic and telling eachother to "defend, defend, defend!" or just curse at eachother.

And you, of course, was just resting in paradise while your girlfriend watches over you with half-lidded eyes. But you could tell she was trying to be awake.

You were getting into that headspace where your luck with getting kills increased, and damn were you so happy you could basically convince yourself you were the next top player at this game.

That was until you fumbled over a sniper shot, your finger slipping and your character dying. Your friends were yelling, laughing, but you couldn't focus. Not when Tara's hand was placed firmly on top of your cock.

You froze in place, your eyes, not focused on the screen anymore, but focused on somewhere in the darkness of your room. Her fingers tracing lazy circles around your clothed bulge, only getting larger the more she teases you.

You muted your mic, your hands clutching your phone as you suck in a moan. "Tara, wait, I'm—"

"—Playing?" She finished, looking up at you with her doe-eyes you knew you could never resist. "I'm sure you can play perfectly fine." She replied, her fingers sliding into the waistband of your shorts. You ultimately regretting, and thanking, that you weren't wearing anything underneath.

You were big, you haven't measured it yourself, but Tara worshipped it like it was (and is) so that was enough for confirmation. The tip of your cock was immediately leaking with pre-cum, and it didn't help when Tara kept stroking it, taking her time to graze her thumb along the head.

"Aren't you going to continue playing?" She looked at you, doe eyes and all as if she wasn't giving you the most perfect and maddening handjob you've ever received.

There was something in her voice, something that made you go fucking insane. And something that made you click that respawn button, playing it off as if nothing was happening down below.

You were desperately trying to get a kill, the amount of times you've pressed that damn respawn button was embarrassing. But how could you focus when the most prettiest girl was wrapping her warm lips around the tip of your dick, her hands taking care of the inches that wasn't in her mouth. Yet.

She removed her mouth away from your cock, a soft whine escaping your lips at the loss of contact, but then she adjusted her position. Her body going in between your thighs as she spreads them apart.

You almost, almost, went to heaven when she immediately reattached her soft lips to your dick and slowly started to go deeper.

It was almost pathetic how your hips bucked and your head was thrown back, your eyes rolling in pleasure.

And only a few seconds passed until she was bobbing her head up and down on your cock, her free hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

Fuck, that turned you on even more.

You contemplated throwing the game, hell, even your phone, but Tara dug her perfectly manicured nails into your thighs when you were starting to put your phone down.

"Y/n, you're getting out of your game!"

"Noticed."

"I bet 20 bucks she's getting laid by Tara, right now."

The three of them, in order, Chad, Anika, and Mindy all teasing you for getting your dick sucked in the middle of the game. But you didn't care, at all. You didn't have enough trust in yourself to unmute and to deny all sayings, that were 100% true by the way, without having to hold back a moan.

"Fuck, Tara..." You manage to say in a whimper, your hand, which was supposed to be playing the game, was grabbing a handful of Tara's hair. Helping her take in what's left of you, and soon enough, her nose reached your chest, gagging a little bit in the process.

You were going crazy.

It was then you couldn't take it anymore. You grabbed her hair, a bit more forcefully, and started to shove yourself back and forth into her mouth. Your hips bucking and gradually getting speed. You could see how her eyes and jaw widened to take more of you. Spit and pre-cum dripping all over her mouth as she looked at you, tears staining her eyes while she closed them whenever she hit the base, gagging all over your cock.

You can feel your legs begin to shake, your head throwing back and your eyes rolling. But that didn't stop you from absolutely railing Tara's mouth against your dick until you've emptied yourself inside of her, forcing her to swallow all of your load.

A minute passed before you slowed down your movements, pulling an exhausted Tara out of your cock. She looked at you dumb, your own cum smeared all over her lips as a grin adorned her abused lips.

"I guess we can say I'm better than that stupid game you're always playing." She rasped, her voice hoarse.

"You did this because you were... jealous of me playing a game?" You chuckled, clearly out of breath. It was cute if you weren't so turned on by the fact Tara was looking at you like that.

She brought her hand up to her mouth, wiping away the excess cum with her thumb and licking it off. "I just wanted to tease you, baby."

You thought that was the end of it, not until Tara threw your phone and headphones away and started to climb on top of you, your still hardened cock right on top of her clit. You didn't even notice she wasn't wearing anything underneath as well until now.

"I'll get you a new one—" she breathed, "I promise. Just, please." She whimpered, god, fuck, you were going insane. "Just fuck me."

And that was everything you needed you hear.

You immediately flipped her around, "Y/n, what the FUCK!—" she screamed as you drilled your cock into her, your hips pulling out your dick and fully slamming it back into her pussy. A broken moan coming out of her lips.

"Shit... Tara, you're driving me crazy." Was all you could mutter before you went faster, your hands going to her hips to hold her steady, and your eyes were focused on your cock easily sliding in and out of her puffy folds, taking all of you at once while Tara could only moan, a new freshly coat of cum taking over your dick.

The way she squeezed around you, milking your cock for all it's worth, made you dizzy and your head start to spin. But that didn't stop you from completely destroying her bit by bit, aiming to break her down.

You pulled her closer to you, your hands going up to her shoulders and aggressively ramming her body against your shaft as if it wasn't so deep enough already. Tara couldn't say, mutter, or even speak a single sentence at this point.

You were fucking her dumb, and shit you loved it.

Your hands slithered up from her shoulders to her neck, lightly choking her before turning her head to you.

"You're so pretty like this, baby. So gorgeous and perfect." You muttered in her ear, every word coming to a hard thrust as Tara's mouth opened, attempting to say something but only coming out as a pathetic moan. "You wanna be fucked like a slut? Be fucked dumb out of your mind?"

Sliding your hands on her back, you pressed down firmly to create the perfect arch as her head was buried into the soft mattress, her hands curling up into a ball as she sobbed with pleasure. You can hear her moaning your name over and over again, screaming and sobbing muffled by the soft pillow under her.

"Answer me, Tara."

"Yes, please!" She pleaded, "God, oh my god." She gulped, her head falling back as she reached her second orgasm, her walls clamping down on your cock and cum dripping down from her abused and assaulted pussy.

Her legs gave up, but you didn't. You continued to ram into her, without a care that she was near peak exhaustion and her sobs were becoming more frequent. Your freehand that wasn't pressing down on her back going over to her clit, overstimulating her.

"Fuck, I'm gonna cum," you groaned, "Tara..."

"Cum'n me." She said, breathless, "please. Please, please, please, please—"

After that last plead, you came in her. Your body still thrusting into Tara as you lean towards her, "I love you. I love you so much, my favorite girl." You muttered, pressing kisses all over her cheeks and lips as she breathed for air. But that sweet moment didn't stop you from resuming to pound into her as if it was your last day on earth.

You kept your cock inside of her, pistoning it in and out as you stretched her pussy till it's limit. Until it recognized the shape of your dick, which, you succeeded. The both of you continued until Tara reached her actual peak of exhaustion and collapsed.

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

When Tara woke up, she was sore. Sore as fuck. Everything up and down from her head to toe was just relentless pain everywhere. That is, until she turned her head to see you just gazing at her. Softly. As if you didn't ruin her to pieces just hours before.

"Hey," you greeted her, a smile gracing your lips. Tara didn't realize, but you drew her a bath the second she passed out and took care of her yourself. Even changed her to her favorite outfit whenever she just wanted to lay around.

Tara smiled. Despite her sore legs, her sore everything actually, she still managed to cling onto you like a koala. Her arms crushing you as you hugged her back. "Hey." She whispered in your ear, kissing you gently. "Thanks, by the way. For taking care of me." She hugged you even tighter, which you reciprocated.

The two of you sat there for a few minutes, basking in eachothers presence and warmthness. Until you broke the silence. "Tell me the real reason." You pulled back from Tara's tight hug. (You tried to, she was unbudging.)

"I was." She raised an eyebrow, which you also reciprocated.

You chuckled. "I've been your girlfriend and bestfriend for a total of 3 years, Tara. You can't fool me."

She could almost roll her eyes right now if she wouldn't regret it later. "We haven't had sex in a while." She confessed, avoiding your eye contact. "Like, a whole month."

The adorableness there was to Tara Carpenter, the amazing girl you're blessed with, was beyond you. "You could've told me, Tara." You tucked a loose strand between her ear, "you know I like talking with you. Especially about something personal, or maybe something about in our relationship."

"I didn't know how to like," she paused, "really, really, express it." She explained, "also I couldn't since you were on that damn video game for weeks now!"

Yeah, you had to blame yourself for that. Or maybe the crew. "I solemnly swear to not play that game. Well, atleast that often." You held up your pinky, making a pinky promise that you always, always never broken in your life.

Tara chuckled, taking your pinky into hers. "Also your phone has been buzzing like crazy for the last few minutes."

"It's just Mindy bragging about she got rich because she was betting over our sex life."

"What!?" The younger Carpenter screamed.

"Don't worry too much about it." You shrugged it off. "Just a skill issue." You joked.

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

a/n: just needed to get this off my brain. idea popped into my head one random day and i've been thinking about it actually doing something about it, and it's probably something i need to do to take of my writers block!!

[baby-yongbok]

Fixation

Hwang Hyunjin x Afab!Reader

✮ Genre - Explicit (non-idol) - Punk!Hyunjin x Punk!Reader ✮ WC: 3.8k ✧ Masterlist ✧

✮ Summary: Hyunjin is obsessed with your mouth.

✮ CW: Alcohol usage [By both reader and Hyunjin.], Mention of marijuana [For like 10 seconds in the very beginning], Spit play? [Kinda? You'll see] , Public affection (I think that's all)

✮ A/N: This look on Hyunjin is my absolute favorite from the comeback and it kinda gives me punk rock vibes? So I tried that out and idk if I aced it but I did it so boom. I hope that you enjoy! + reader is depicted as chubby/plus size and is a POC ♡

“Who the fuck is throwing this party anyway?” Hyunjin ashes the weak blunt that you got from god knows where as you’re rummaging through his closet. “Does it matter?”

You pull out the top you were searching for and throw it on his bed next to where he’s laid out. You strip your shirt, leaving you in your flimsy bra as you pick the new shirt off of the hanger. Hyunjin isn’t phased by this one bit, you’ve been friends for long enough for him to have seen your tits a million times. 

“Nah, just curious.” He sits up at the head of his bed with one leg hanging off the edge and watches as you try to make his top work with the skin tight skirt you have on. “You’re going out with Seungmin, right?” 

“Yeah, gonna hit some party that Amelia told him about.” 

“Is she gonna be there?” You shrug, grabbing your bag and rummaging through it. “Cause you know that he’ll leave you if she’s there. He’s down bad for her.”

“Everybody fucking knows that.” You finally find your lip gloss and quickly unscrew the top and lean towards the mirror. Hyunjin watches as you apply it. It’s tinted red and shiny and it makes his cock twitch in his pants. 

He doesn’t know when it started but he’s been obsessed with your mouth for awhile. He can’t help but to stare at your lips when you’re talking, eating, sipping some of his drink or anything in between. 

It’s like his brain short circuits every time that he glances down at them but it’s even worse when you have on lipstick or lip gloss. That alone gets him as hard as damn rock. “They’ll probably fuck in the bathroom or something.” You pop your lips together to distribute the gloss and clean up the corners. 

“Shit.” You glance at the time on your phone when you go to put your lip gloss away. “I gotta go, he called me. I’ll see you tomorrow.” You grab your stuff and start towards the door of Hyunjin’s tiny apartment. 

“Call me if you need me.” He yells from his spot on the bed. He would’ve walked you out but then you’d see that he's completely bricked up. He takes a deep breath once the door shuts and stares up at the ceiling. It’s become a routine for him to touch himself once you leave his place. He’s always so pent up from watching you that he has to get it all out. 

He could tell you about this. He could just kiss you and indulge in every dirty desire he has but he just hasn’t yet. Your friend group is a bit unique. Very few of you are in official relationships and those of you who aren’t will often kiss or sleep with each other with no strings attached. 

He knows that you’ve kissed and even fucked Seungmin. You’ve kissed his friend Felix plenty of times and he’s positive that you and Minho have a recurring situationship going on. Those are all the things that come to mind right away but he knows that there’s more to your history and he won't even get started on his.

He gets up to lock his door and heads back over to his bed as he palms himself. He wishes that he’d just tell you, he’s sure that you wouldn’t mind helping him out. Hell, you’d probably enjoy it. 

He’s crawling back onto his bed when something catches his eye at the end of it. He stares at it for a second before reaching forward and picking it up. It’s your lip gloss. You must’ve missed the pocket when you went to put it back in your bag. 

Hyunjin takes the tube between his fingers and stares at it. This is the exact gloss that you have on right now. Your pretty lips are red and shiny and he wants them so badly. 

He doesn’t know when he started twisting the cap off but the fuzzy applicator wand is in his hand and on his lips when he snaps back to reality. He moans as he brushes the gloss onto his bottom lip, he sits on his knees in the middle of his bed with his eyes closed. He imagines you putting it on him. He imagines that you let him use it after you and he’s moaning again. 

He fully applies it and rubs his lips together before closing the tube and letting it fall to the sheets below him as he falls back against his pillows, eyes still closed as he quickly unbuttons his jeans and pulls them down his thighs. He groans as he slides his hand down his body, feeling the slick gloss on his lips and imagining that you’re next to him, watching him.

He gasps when his hand wraps around his cock. He rubs his lips together to get a better feel of the gloss and brings his hand up to his face just as he thinks you would. “Baby, please.” He runs his thumb over his bottom lip, smearing the sticky pigment a bit and groaning into the air when his palm runs over his tip. 

“You’re mouth, I wan’ your mouth.” He runs his middle finger over the sticky mess he’s created and slips it into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the digit sloppily before adding his pointer finger to the mix. He imagines that this is what your lips would feel like wrapped around his cock. He imagines your pretty lip gloss staining his shirt and his sheets and his skin. 

He moans around his fingers while his other hand works his leaking cock. He’s moving too fast to savor the feeling, each stroke of his fist gets him closer to the edge and has him whimpering. He doesn’t want this to end, he doesn’t want to open his eyes and let you go. He doesn’t want to cum yet but your mouth, you’re fucking mouth would feel so good that he can’t help it.

His mouth falls open in a loud moan and he slides his spit slick fingers out and down to join his other hand around his cock. “Like that, like that, baby.” He humps up into his fists with his jaw clenched tight and he’s spilling his cum over his knuckles before he can even say a word.

 His grip loosens as he attempts to catch his breath. The image of you vanishes from behind his eyes and he reluctantly allows them to flutter open. He looks down at the mess he’s made and groans at the sight of his cum running over the red ring of gloss staining his fingers. “Shit.” 

He throws his head back and stares. He can’t keep imagining this, he needs to tell you. He needs to do something.  

Hyunjin repeats yesterday's actions the next morning. He slathered on the shiny gloss and fucked his fleshlight while kissing his own hand and pretending it was you. The red stains are still faintly on the back of his hand when he arrives at the party later that night. He doesn’t know who the fuck is throwing it but he can say that it’s an absolute rager. The walls are graffitied and the loud rock music floating through the air is loud enough to ensure that he’ll need a hearing aid by age thirty. 

The couches are littered with people he’s never met before making out with people he’s never seen in his life. He heads to the kitchen to grab a drink of whatever looks good and then heads back into the crowd in search of you and the rest of his friends. 

He finds you all in the far corner, huddled together with some of you laughing and some of you making out. He pushes past Felix who’s currently in a threeway lip lock with Changbin and his girlfriend to get to you. You’re sitting on Seungmin’s lap with a drink in your hand. He smiles up at you as you laugh loudly at something he just whispered and Hyunjin’s eyes go right to your lips. He needs to make a move tonight.

He sits on the arm of the couch next to the two of you and takes a peek into your drink. “How many has she had?” He asks Seungmin as you smile back at him. “I've lost count.”

“Hyunjinnie!” You tilt your head back to see him better and pucker your lips towards him. Hyunjin freezes, staring down at your lips behind his red tinted glasses. “No kiss?”

You've never kissed him before. Ever. You've never offered him a kiss until today, it must be the alcohol.

“Since when do you kiss me?” He tries to sound playful. He tries to smile at your upside-down pout but he's struggling. He should've kissed you. 

“Since today.” Seungmin sits you up before You can pucker your lips towards Hyunjin again. “Sit fucking still, whore.”

You scoff, yelling something at Seungmin that makes him smile as he sips from your cup.

While you're fussing at your friend Hyunjin’s unfocused gaze is darting around the crowded space. He stares over at Felix who's now in a heated lip lock with some girl who's name he can never remember and then to Jisung and his girlfriend who look like they’re one step away from fucking in front of everyone. 

His eyes darted from person to person, kissing, laughing, sipping. He sees them all but he's thinking about you. He wants you. 

“Hyunjin.” His gaze snaps over to Seungmin as the sound of a glass bottle crashing against the wall echoes through the air. Typical shit. “Take her for a bit? I gotta do something.” 

Seungmin stands with you in his arms and Hyunjin slips into his spot on the couch. The younger sits you in Hyunjin’s lap before rushing off into the crowd of gyrating bodies. 

Hyunjin squints beyond his glasses and finds the reason for Seungmin’s sudden departure. Amelia is here, he's gonna be gone for more than a bit.

“Hyuneeee.” You whine at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “I want another drink.”

“I don't think you should have another drink, darling.” He stares up at you from where he's slouched into the worn cushions. Your legs are draped over his, your ass is on his thigh and his arm is wrapped around you. 

You look good tonight. Your leather tube top and tattered jeans are a masterpiece that he'd proudly strip from you if he could work up the courage. 

Even with you looking this good. Even with you sitting on him like this he can't pull his gaze away from your lips. They're black tonight. Shiny with a mix of midnight lipstick and some sparkly gloss. Your tongue peeks between them, adding a bit of pink to the mix and he swears that he could take you right here. He could risk it all right now. 

“I just want one more drink.” You pout, pushing your bottom lip out at him. “Tequila or Hennessey, just one more.”

He shakes his head, earning a whine from you. “You're wasted.” He squeezes the exposed skin of your waist as he holds you tighter in case you decide to try to escape. 

“Here.” Minho's voice breaks through your conversation from beside you. He offers you his cup filled halfway with something that Hyunjin can smell from his spot beneath you. 

“What the hell is that?” Minho smiles down at Hyunjin then over at you. “It's called a Hell Bomb. Jeongin made it. I don't like Henny though.”

“Yes you do.” You smile up at him, staring at him upside-down like you did to Hyunjin earlier. “Not as much as you like it.” 

Minho leans in and kisses your chin. Hyunjin holds his breath as he watches you giggle at the exchange. He silently prays that he doesn't kiss you. Please don't. 

“I like tasting it off of you though, so bottoms up, kitty.” You hold eye contact with Minho as you lift the cup to your lips, some of the drink spills down the slope of your throat and Hyunjin watches it as it travels down to the valley of your breasts. Oh, what he'd do to clean you up. “That’s my girl. You better watch her, Hyunjin. She'll be gone after this.”

With a pat on the shoulder and a suggestive glance to the both of you Minho slips into the crowd and disappears. 

You're still drinking when he leaves and Hyunjin has to pry the cup from your hand to get you to slow down. He mixes your drink with his Vodka that he grabbed earlier and throws your cup on the floor by his feet. “Hey!”

“You're not drinking that by yourself. We'll share it.” He takes a couple of gulps from the cocktail with a furrowed brow as it burns on the way down. This shit really is hell. “You'll be ghost if you do this alone.”

“But you'll take care of me, won't you, Hyunjinnie?” You move into him, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“I got you.” He mumbles back as he takes another hit of the drink. He's gonna need a lot of this to get through the night. 

They just kept coming. Once Chan arrived thirty minutes ago with three cases of the most expensive soju he could blow his paycheck on Hyunjin knew he was fucked. 

He let you have one bottle before he cut you off for good. Your neck became jelly after the third swig and you've been mumbling in his ear ever since. 

He took that bottle from you and finished it. Then he had two more right after to distract himself from the way that your lips brushing against his neck makes his cock chub up. Now he's on his fourth bottle of soju and you're on your second bottle of water. 

“Your lips are pretty.” You mumble as you sit up and stare down at his mouth. “Your lip gloss looks like mine.”

“Does It?” He rubs his lips together, evening out the red tint. “Yeah but I lost it.”

“Mm that sucks. It looked pretty on you.” You try your best to sit up and shift yourself in his lap but your coordination is shot. Hyunjin helps you move in his lap, he supports you until you end up how you wanted. You're straddling his waist, your legs are on either side of him and your core is over his cock. He takes another sip of soju once you settle. 

“You like my lips too?” He should lie, right? “I think yours are so pretty.” Fuck. 

You smile, it's lazy and tainted with alcohol but it's fucking dizzying. Your fingers sneak up to Hyunjin's face to steal his glasses and he lets you. You slip them on and stare down at him. 

“They look better on you.” He coos, his hands creep up your thighs and plant themselves on your hips and you move involuntarily into the touch. You grind over his chubbed up cock and he sighs into the cloudy air to try and control himself. “Drink more water, baby.”

“Gimme.” He grabs the bottle next to him, unscrewing the top and handing it to you but you refuse it. “Pour it.” 

You tip your head back with parted lips and your tongue sticking out. Your eyes are closed and Hyunjin moans. He fucking moans at the sight your your mouth open for him and he wishes that he was filling it up with something different. 

He places a finger under your chin to keep you steady and waterfalls into your mouth. You swallow as he pours and he watches the way that your throat moves. You'd swallow his load so well, you'd take his cock like a fucking pro. 

A bit of water runs over your bottom lip and down your neck as he pulls away. He’s fighting his demons again as he watches the water trail down your skin, it takes everything in him not to clean it up for you. He stopped himself but he won't be so lucky next time. 

“Thank you.” You bat your lashes at him, staring down over his shades. “Your turn?”

“My turn?” You hum, picking up his bottle of Soju from the table next to you. “Lemme feed it to you.”

“Are you tryna get me fucked up?” He smirks up at you and you down at him. 

 “Head back.” He parts his lips slightly and you place a finger under his chin like he did to you. His eyes stay on yours the entire. Studying every move you make.

“Open.” Your thumb brushes over his bottom lip, smearing his - your - red gloss onto his chin. He opens his mouth slowly, sticking the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip just a bit. 

“Mhm” You bring his bottle up to your lips and sip at the clear liquid until you're content with what’s in your mouth. Hyunjin is about to protest when you bring the bottle up to your lips but he gets lost in the way that your black gloss stains the cloudy glass. 

You set the glass back onto the table and lean up on your knees to line your mouth up with his. His dark eyes bore into yours as he realizes what's about to happen. His hands slip up and down the curve of your waist then press into the flesh when you allow the sweet liquid to waterfall into his open mouth. 

His eyes flutter shut with a whimper as his mouth fills with what you're giving him. He hooks his thumbs into your belt loops and pulls you forward so that you're hovering right over his half hard cock. His self control is fading as the stream from your mouth to his ends. 

As it tapers off a bit of soju misses his mouth and runs down his cheek. It doesn’t get far before you're licking it up, trailing it back up to his mouth and slipping your tongue against his in one swift motion.   

Hyunjin gasps against you before a more primal sound follows. You reciprocate it, sinking back down onto his lap and rocking yourself over him. 

He’s swallowing hard and drinking in every ounce of you that you're offering. He feels dizzy with how hard his lips are pressing to yours. It’s a messy exchange of teeth and tongue that has you both exhaling hard through your noses. It's more intoxicating than anything he's had tonight. It tastes better than the most expensive soju he could think of.

“You -'' Hyunjin breathes out strangled syllables between sloppy drags of your tongue. He welcomes every searing lick into his mouth, prioritizing tasting you over speaking. “Wait.”

He pushes you back, forcing your lips off of his with a sloppy smack that draws Felix's attention from the other couch. “You're fucking wasted.” 

“I know what I'm doing.” You push his red sweater back off of his shoulders, exposing the bare skin underneath and he lets you. “I know what I want and it's you.”

“You're wasted, I'm fuckin wasted we can't - ‘m not gonna fuck you like this.”

You push his sweater down to his elbows and run your hands back up the newly exposed skin. Your hands travel down his stomach, running over the ribbed texture of his tank top before slipping underneath the fabric. 

“Aye, I'm not gonna -” 

“You don't have to.” You cut him off, rocking over him again to get him to calm down. “You don't have to fuck me tonight. Don't even have to kiss me again.”

Your nails scratch over his stomach, it's toned and soft to the touch. You run your hands over his chest, slowing your touch when you brush over his nipples. He squirms beneath you, his hands holding onto your forearms in a half minded attempt to stop you. 

“Just let me mark you up, yeah?” You lean into his neck, keeping your hands on his stomach under his top. “Let me claim you for later, is that okay, Hyunjinnie?”

He's nodding before he can even comprehend it. He's mumbling confirmations while the soju in his system seemingly evaporates under your touch. How could he say no? Your practically promising to fuck him later. 

“Hold still.” Your lips press to his neck right over his pulse. You can feel it pick up as you leave The sticky black mark behind. You place another kiss right under that one and then another and another. You trail marks over the side of his neck and down his shoulder. You make out with his bicep as you squeeze his sides under his shirt. 

“I can't - fuck, baby. I really like you kissin’ on me like that” You sit up, smiling at him with smeared black lipstick down your chin and smudging onto your cheeks. Hyunjin doesn't look Any better. His mouth is smudged in a mess of glossy red and black and his skin is stained with the color of you. 

“Your mouth is so pretty like that.” Hyunjin's hand cups the side of your face and smears more of the dark pigment over your cheeks. “I wanna take you right here. I wanna get you on your knees so badly.”

“You wanna fuck me right here?” You trail kisses down his wrist, pushing his sleeve up his arm to give you more canvas space. 

“Fuck, yes.” He kicks his head back in a moan. “Wanna see those pretty lips stretch over my cock.” 

“You think I can fit it all in my mouth?” You press down into him. “You feel so big.”

“You can take it, baby.” Your lips start marking up the other side of his neck now, pressing smudged kisses into his clean flesh. “I know you'll take it like such a good fucking girl, won't you? Gonna let me fuck this throat later? Gonna come over tomorrow and let me do everything I want to you.”

“I'll be a good girl for you. The best fuck you ever had.” His hand runs up the back of your neck, lacing in your hair and scratching at your scalp as you mark him. Kissing him dangerously close to his mouth and testing the ounce of self control he has left. 

“Oh, you will be. I know you will be, I've thought about you so much. I've thought about those lips and that cunt and just fucking ruining you.” Hyunjin is rambling. His deepest secret is spilling over the corners of his lips and soaking into you, you milk it all from him with a smile. 

It looks like leaving your lip gloss at his place worked after all. 

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[luveline]

is there any way we could get badass!reader x spencer? except he’s injured this time? how does she react?

tysm ♡ cw hospital / gunshot wounds. 1.1k

"You have to let me see him." 

"It's family only," the nurse says, shrugging sympathetically. 

You grit your teeth. "That's what I'm telling you, I am his family. We've been together for four months." 

"Sorry. Unless you're blood related or his next of kin, I can't let you." 

"Spencer's next of kin is in a sanitarium in Las Vegas. I don't understand why you can't let me see him." You're trying not to shout at her, rage trembling in your aching fingers. "I understand that it's night time, and that he was admitted alone, but he was shot, he's not sick, and I can't make him worse. Please. You have to let me see him." 

When begging doesn't work, you get mean. You'd be ashamed to admit you flashed your badge if it weren't for the fact that you have no shame when it comes to Spencer. Face flushed with heat from a good twenty minutes yelling, a different nurse escorts you to Spencer's room. 

"I expect my colleagues will be arriving soon," you say. "And I expect they'll be met with less resistance." 

The nurse smiles at you, as fake as they come, but you don't deserve a real one. You don't care. Breaking rules and bending policies means nothing to you while Spencer's laying alone in a hospital bed. 

His heart monitor beeps steadily. He's sleeping, waxy face crushed sideways into a limp pillow, his stomach a lump under the sheets where he's been wrapped. He was alone when it happened —no one, BAU or otherwise, knows who did it or why. The hospital didn't know who Spencer was until he woke up after surgery and told them himself. 

And you'd been sitting at home feeling sorry for yourself (and vaguely irritated) because he didn't answer your text that morning. 

It's not hard being vulnerable with Spencer. He's your widely known soft spot, and you're unashamed. But it felt like a mistake, constantly checking to see if he'd answered your text. Good morning, I know we're supposed to see each other tomorrow but do you want to come over and watch movies tonight? Let me know had felt like I'm pathetic and in love with you and my day revolves around when you're free.

None of that matters now. In fact, it's all embarrassingly small. 

You creep up beside his bed and reach out tentatively. His hair falls out of his face with the barest of touches. He's had blood wiped poorly from his cheek, orangey streaks lining his jaw. His undereyes are dark like he hasn't eaten for days, his veins spider legs stark against his eyelids. 

You put your hand on his cheek, rubbing it lightly. "I'm sorry it took me so long," you say, leaning down to kiss his forehead.  

Spencer stirs, a groan rumbling from the centre of his chest. 

"I thought that was you," he mumbles, his fingers brushing your elbow. 

"When?" you ask. 

"You were yelling." 

Yeah, well. You need to be disruptive sometimes. "They wouldn't let me in." You're not a big crier, just seeing him like this, knowing he was alone and probably scared, it has tears pricking. "Spencer, I'm so sorry." 

"Hey." He clears his throat, your emotion starting him into wakefulness. "Hey, don't get upset. It's okay. It bounced off of me–" You groan and he laughs, though he grabs your elbow quickly after. "Ouch. Don't make me laugh." 

"I didn't say anything." You pet his face. He looks pretty even when he's in a bad way. Your chest is a pit. 

"It barely touched me. They said my feminine hips saved my life." 

"Stop trying to make me laugh," you say pleadingly. 

Spencer holds your gaze. "Stop looking so sad and I'll stop."

"Are you hurting?" you ask. You know you sound awful, a scared tone that he's never heard from you before, and you try to tamp it down as a lone tear breaks free, streaking down your cheek. "How's your pain? I can make them give you more–" 

"I know you can. I'm fine now you're here." 

You lean down to kiss the tip of his pert nose. Careful, you kiss his lips, enthused when he kisses up. "I'll take care of everything," you promise. 

The door opens behind you. You give Spencer a last squeeze and find Emily in the entrance with a bag pressed to her chest, her hair windblown, shocked with worry. 

"Spencer," she says, rushing forward to hug him. 

He's in a hospital bed and still insists on comforting her as he'd done you, arms threaded over her shoulders. "Hey. I'm fine." 

"Morgan and Garcia want to be here," she assures him, standing straight. "They're trying to keep the site clean. Spencer, what the hell happened?" 

You drag a chair to his bed and sit on his right. You don't take his hand, he doesn't offer it, but the longer his story goes, the closer you find yourself. "I didn't even realise they were following me," he's saying. Emily nods with Hotch on the phone, listening intently, repeating anything Hotch misses. 

You know you should be strong. Brave. You should be paying attention to his every word, ready to take the rains and solve the case, serve retribution against whoever it is that thought they could hurt him, but Spencer looks so tired. You can't imagine being anywhere that isn't his side right now. A blood bag fills at his side, a catheter runs under the bed, an IV line feeding pain medication and fluids into him mottled the skin on the inside of his wrist with bruise. Sometimes you have to stay put.  

Emily hugs you before she leaves. You hug back. 

"If I knew getting hurt would make you accept love from your friends, I would've done it sooner," Spencer says. 

"If you ever get hurt like this again, I'll never speak to you," you say, bringing his arm to your lips and pressing a kiss to the crook of his elbow. 

"Sorry for scaring you." 

You lay your cheek on his arm, looking up at him through your eyelashes. "That's okay. That's fine. Wasn't your fault." 

Spencer drops his chin to his chest. "Do I look bad from this angle?" 

"No. You look just as nice as you always do." Your throat burns with sincerity. You might cry again. 

Spencer nods like he's reading something else from what you've said. It's not that you'd meant to imply a double meaning, but he must see on your face how relieved you are, and how terrified you'd been. He brings his hand to your face, ignoring his cannula, to wipe the dried tears from your lashes. "You look pretty, too," he says. "Just don't cry anymore." 

[cinhomi]

𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐊

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: boyfriend's best friend Hwang Hyunjin x fem reader

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: you should've left your boyfriend sooner considering the man of your dreams, his best friend, has always been there for you... but the faithful event you were hoping for finally occurs and you find yourself at his house, in his arms, in his bed.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: angst?, smut, fluff, aquaintances to lovers

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: cheating (but not really, you'll see), reader is in a toxic relationship, explicit descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex (it's sexy but use protection babes), fingering, pretty vanilla.

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 6.4K

I have a thing for sex while it rains, it seems... and like this I post something after months. I'll work this storyline in the future too for Hyunjin, but for now, enjoy!

It's strange how sometimes we believe to be in the right place to later find out we were living in a lie, a product of our fervid imagination, just to not accept reality and the fact that life, or even our past self, played a good and structured not-so-funny prank on us.

These lies we tell ourselves most of the time are a response to our awful experiences, but they can become harmful in numerous types of ways, and we should learn that instead of letting us be tempted by sweet beliefs. When we find ourselves facing reality it's hard to accept it, it's ugly, but ugly things are part of life and we should try and accept them nonetheless, they may reveal themselves as lessons or the best things that happened to us, with various meanings to that.

What pisses people off the most is the "waste of time". And that's how you feel too, like the rest of humankind, angry because you wasted time. You would very gladly prefer to be in the denial stage of the whole thing but it's so evident that you can't even pretend to be doubtful, to question what you saw, to give him a chance to explain himself.

The car is still cold even if you already reached the destination that popped in your mind right after what happened, salty tears adorning your eyes as they cross your freezing cheeks, collecting under your chin, falling on your scarf. The same damn scarf he gifted you after your first two weeks of dating, the one you didn't even like at all, the color you hated, a dull pattern over it… the urge to pull down the car window and throw it outside in the middle of the parking lot soon becomes reality. Wind starts to rise a bit, and you see it dance on the wet concrete for a while before a car passes over it and plasters it on the ground.

Ironic, right? You feel a bit bad after the impulsive gesture, but he didn't hesitate to make you feel the same, so, "screw it".

You shouldn't even be here. You should go to your own best friend, sitting on her way too low couch with its broken springs and cry your eyes out as she yells at you her usual "I told you so!" and "You're an idiot, I knew it from the start!" even if what you really need is comfort, and not to be scolded like a twelve years old while she offers you chocolates and tissues like in some chiché romcom.

That's why Hyunjin's place is just few meters and five floors away from you now. You're actually hesitant to get out the car but when you see your boyfriend's text appear on your screen, asking where are you, it's suddenly not so difficult to take your things and rush to take the elevator, and when you send Hyunjin a message telling him you're in front of his apartment he's quick to open the door. He doesn't say a thing, he doesn't even dare to, he already knows.

He delicately takes your hand in his and guides you inside with a saddened smile, his eyes soft as they watch you attentively trying to search for your tears. God, he wants to kiss them all away, he never wants to see you like this ever again, but he thinks it's probably not the last time… is it? Either way, he'll do anything he can to make the redness of your eyes disappear.

"Go sit on the couch petal, relax for me, hm?" he says in a hushed tone to not provoke your impending outburst. When you're finally hugged by his cushions you feel his presence behind you, his hands going on your shoulders to free you from your heavy coat and bag that he places on his forearm. When he reaches for your scarf his fingers are suddenly met with the cold skin of your neck and a startled "oh!" escapes from him because of the unexpected touch, making you giggle. If only you knew how his heart starts beating faster whenever he hears you like this…

"Where is your scarf? You always wear it, were you in such a rush to leave it at your place?" he's now lowered near your face, breath tickling your cheek as he adjusts your jumper on your shoulders ー the stained one you only wear at home, you didn't even change, how embarrassing. He touches you like frail porcelain and little bumps start to rise on your skin where traces of his touch linger, you wish his fingerprints could bruise your skin.

"I threw it in the parking lot…" you explain, looking at him trying to not make your lips touch while doing so.

A laugh that comes from his chest slowly builds up as he lifts himself and reluctantly distances from your face to go place your belongings on the hanger at the entrance. If only he knew how your heart twists in excitement whenever you hear him like this…

Hyunjin doesn't come back to you immediately. He always makes sure you have enough time to think by yourself first, to gather your words, to decide if you want to cry or yell, and then he sits beside you and goes along with anything you've come up with. It's always been like this until today, every time you came to his place after something happened between you and his best friend, every time he had to gather your broken pieces and try to put you together again. He doesn't know he's always done that beautifully though, making a breathtaking mosaic out of you, making you so splendid and wonderful anyone could say he's your creator.

You hear a distant rustling in the kitchen, the clicking of the bottles in the fridge as he closes it with a thud, two glasses colliding it seems, and his slippers sliding on the floor, approaching you.

"You're lucky petal, I have your favorite today." he proceeds to place the glasses on the way too elegant coffee table and pour the drink with all the calmness in the world. Time with Hyunjin stops. You think that every second spent with him is never wasted.

"I like this clip, it compliments your hair color." he says suddenly, snapping you out of your trance. How could he notice such a thing?

"Really? It's the first time I wear it…" you still mumble a bit, too shaken to let your voice take its natural timbre. Hyunjin laughs again, handing you the drink and carefully sitting so as to not spill everything on his expensive carpet. His body is completely facing yours, knee against knee.

"It's not true!" Hyunjin takes a sip and giggles at your confused expression.

"You had it the first time we met, too. It was perfect with your dress and necklace. Do you really not remember? You looked beautiful…"

What Hyunjin refers to is a random saturday evening of autumn. What day it was, what you were wearing, what you did before meeting in front of the restaurant, you can't remember… but what you can vividly recall is the stinging sensation of the first cold breeze of the season on your cheeks, how crunchy multicolored leaves swirled on the sidewalk, and the city lights beginning to be turned on a bit earlier than usual. Now that you think about it, it was around this period. You remember what perfume you wore, paying attention to what type of impression you wanted to give to your boyfriend's group of friends that you were about to meet for the first time, and you even remember what mascara you decided to use.

But what remained tattooed on your bones the most are the first ten seconds of Hwang Hyunjin taking possess of your vision, because you felt incredibly sick.

If you close your eyes and concentrate you can almost feel the same emotions, when your stomach swirled like it was a washing machine, your head light, and your legs almost giving in making you trip while standing still.

You felt incredibly guilty, disgusted with yourself, disappointed, a monster. Why the hell your first thought was "he's my soulmate" and not something along the lines of "nice, my boyfriend's best friend" you still don't know. Call it destiny, call it sixth sense, you immediately tried to suppress it all.

It didn't help that Hyunjin's slender fingers delicately took your hand to kiss your knuckles with his oh, oh so beautiful lips like an ambassador of chivalry itself, his siren eyes looking up at you sweetly but confidently, making you blush like crazy ー you later blamed your flustered expression to the restaurant's excessive heating.

On top of that, your boyfriend decided to sit at your side leaving Hyunjin in front of you, so you had his ridiculously handsome face in sight for the whole night as you ate your stupid california rolls and tried to elegantly slurp your noodles ー for as much as something like that is even possible.

You talked, a lot, even if you felt your face heat up at every strangely seductive giggling sound he made together with the little bumps his shoes would land on your naked ankles, toying with your heels from time to time. You had so much in common, and after that you only felt complete when he was near you.

Your boyfriend did catch on with the new dynamic though, so unfortunately considering how jealous and a bit possessive he is, you and Hyunjin didn't see each other as often as you expected after that, but you really didn't grasp that it was because he wanted you apart at first, just a series of unfortunate coincidences.

Hyunjin parted from you with a tight hug, lingering his hands on the smaller of your back, adjusting your shawl over your coat and twirling a strand of your hair behind your ear, the moment never fully leaving your memory. He was… perfect, really just perfect, and you couldn't help but feel nauseous when you got in the car with your boyfriend to let him accompany you to your apartment, the thought of another man being more suited for you making you feel like you were cheating. You only felt relieved when you talked about all his friends during the ride and he revealed that Hyunjin is "a bit of a player, y'know, he flirts with everyone and he has those french manners, but he's always been like this." so you thought that maybe your feelings would slowly fade… but they always, always rested down the bottom of your heart, even if you pushed them away forcefully, almost violently.

No one knows you two meet up from time to time now, because one time you found yourself crying in a corner on his shouler. No one knows that you always seem happy and carefree only because you talk with Hyunjin, because he comforts you when you need it without complaining. Not that it needs to be a secret, but you both are well aware that it may result suspicious to meet with your boyfriend's best friend late at night, best friend's girlfriend from his side.

And the fact that you two always seem to attract each other like magnets, so close, with instant connection, it doesn't let thoughts stray further from the idea of something tender existing between the two of you, everyone can see it.

It's just that it's prohibited. Or, to say it better, you were too caught in your lies to even contemplate the idea of leaving your boyfriend and Hyunjin simply didn't want to betray his "friend". But when you started to message him asking for advice, when you later had long calls together, when you crumbled in his arms crying almost weekly, he wasn't so sure about having a best friend anymore.

"I… you really think I was beautiful?"

Your question comes from the heart. The mixture of the memories of that night and his proximity makes heat rise on your face, shyness visible from the automatic action of your teeth catching your bottom lip and your gaze straying from his face to linger on the glass in your hands. The bubbles of the drink fizzle on the surface and for a moment or two that's all that can be heard in the room.

"You're always beautiful, y/n. I told you many times." he says cautiously, putting down everything to wrap his hands around your wrist.

"I don't know how he doesn't make you feel like you are, I don't know why he treats you like this but, petal, you're an incredible woman," he lowers his head to look into your eyes as he tries to explain himself further, "smart and strong. He's an asshole and you should stop doing this to yourself."

Does he know? Does he know what your boyfriend did? Probably not. Hyunjin would never hurt you, he would've immediately told you. You want to make sure though, in case everything that involves Hyunjin is a lie too.

"Why are you his friend then? Why do you keep coming to our house and have dinner as we fake not knowing each other like we really do? Why do you keep on hanging out with him? If you really think he's terribleー"

"Because I want to protect you."

His reply is fast, cutting you off. His stare bores into your eyes and drinks in all of your feelings, like he can see them displayed in front of him. A few seconds of silence fill the room and you suddenly gulp down your drink until the last drop, sprinting up from your seat and escaping his intoxicating presence that's almost engulfing you.

Hyunjin doesn't say a thing. He waits, he can sense that something big happened this time and fuck if he's going to kill his "friend" after this. You were never this silent, you usually would storm inside and throw yourself on him… for as much as he dislikes seeing you like this, he's grateful for your presence, for the feel of your body against his, the trust you put into him. He doesn't do all this just to be a rebound, he already knows part of him is yours and vice versa, so he's simply waiting. Everyone considers him being a romantic man, but really, he just believes in destiny. When Hyunjin first saw you every cell in his body started to boil, goosebumps rising down his nape, the world destroyed itself and was reborn before him, it's impossible that it didn't matter at all.. That was the day he realized he didn't know what "love" meant before.

He watches your silhouette get near the big windows that face the road, little droplets of water striking them. The sound of the rain reaches your ears only when you notice the detail, and soon you see how much water is actually coming down from the sky, your scarf already soaked and dirty laying alone between various cars. You take a deep breath, thinking about your next words, a way to tell Hyunjin what happened without sounding pathetic as you concentrate on the mesmerizing foliage outside, reds and oranges and yellows decorating the city landscape.

"He accidentally left his phone at home since he rushed to his office, I don't exactly know why…" you started to explain, hands fidgeting with your rings, heavy breath obstructing your throat, "and I heard a notification so I went to check right?"

Hyunjin slowly gets up and approaches you, his warmth radiating behind you now, hands resting on your shoulders and caressing them as he listens and slowly gets closer and closer until he's hugging you.

"So, petal? What was it about? Did you find porn?" he tries to guess, but when you shake your head as a 'no' a cold chill goes through his back. Oh, oh no…

"It… it was a message, a very sexual one, coming from a saved contact, I don't even remember the name." you pout, looking down almost in shame even if you're not the responsible one. Maybe it's the shame of having a cheater as a partner.

"I opened the chat Hyunie. They've been sexting for months and from what I could grasp they even met few times…" you can feel tears start to form on your waterline again, a deep ache inside your chest rises when you finally say it out loud. One thing was to acknowledge it, another was to tell everything to the man you've secretly been in love with for a year already. What were you doing exactly all this time?

"Am I really not good enough for anyone, Hyunie? She's… she's so different from me… Am I really a disaster as he says? Why would he do that to me? I've always been a good girlfriend, I even ignored all those mean words and his being immature and the shitty sex!! I put aside my needs to make him happy thinking I was the problem!" you turn around to face him and you're met with his serious expression.

You expected to find him at least slightly surprised by your sudden show of emotions, but he's calm, he radiates calmness. Hyunjin sighs and looks in the distance behind you for a second, blinking ever so slowly, his touch traveling up to cup your cheeks and wipe your angry tears with his thumbs.

That's the final stroke, the gesture that makes you sob and bury your face in his chest to hide.

You aren't broken yet, it's almost as if Hyunjin is physically holding you together. He's trying to smooth the new sharp edges that formed around your heart to not let it be isolated, while hugging you he's working hard to let it be still approachable to receive and give love, he's trying with all he has to prevent a horrible plague that's trying to approach you.

You hold his shirt between your hands, tightly, you're afraid you'll ruin it but you can't stop, you need to ground yourself and try to be strong, but it's so hard to not let him sway you around the room, lullying you as he hushes you and lets his fingers comb your messy hair.

"Leave him."

You freeze.

Did he really say that? Hyunjin never said it out loud. He did make you understand his vision about the situation, he did suggest it with hidden phrases, but so explicitly…

"It's time to let him go, don't you think?" he presses his lips on your forehead, continuing to mumble his real feelings, "You don't need someone who mistreats you petal. You deserve better." he closes them in a kiss that leaves a mark on your soul, making you gasp.

"Hyunjin?" it takes a lot of strength to look up at him. His eyes seem less gentle, brows forming a frown that's not his usual playful one, a bit scary even. The mole under his eye is contracted and his mouth is curved in disgust, just enough for you to understand he's furious.

"Why don’t we put an end to this farce? He didn't even deserve you in the first place, you don't love him, stop doing this to yourself y/n. There's someone who's the right one, for sure…" his tone is desperate, but you want him to say it clearly. You can't help it, if it's to be sure or to satisfy a need you've been having for a while you don't know, but you want him to say it loud and clear.

You know that if he says it now everything will change and it'll be scary as fuck, but if that's a premise for a better life… maybe it's not as scary as you think, it's Hyunjin after all, the man who's looking at you in adoration.

"And what man could possibly want me at this point?" your voice is shaky and uncertain as you tease the confession out of him.

Hyunjin looks away and smiles, a bit frustrated. He wipes another tear away from your cheek and then places his hands on your waist.

"Me?" he fakes the question, smiling softly; "Be mine y/n."

Breath gets caught in your throat as he finally says it. It's wrong that you waited for it, it's wrong that your first instinct is to say yes without thinking about it.

"Hyunjin Iー"

"Ooh don't say you don't reciprocate, petal. I know you too well." he interrupts you, his hold a little tighter. Hyunjin tilts his head to the side, few strands of black raven hair following the motion and slightly covering his eyes. He's beautiful now, even more than in any other moment you've ever been with him. Hyunjin is the most beautiful man in the world and he wants you.

Your phone starts ringing. It's a strange moment to realize your ringtone is kind of cringe, cutting the tension weirdly… but you can't laugh, not right now. Both you and Hyunjin know who it is.

He's right. You should put an end to all this and start to think for yourself, about what you really want, need. This is not wrong. To love yourself isn't wrong, and Hyunjin makes you feel like the person you want to be.

"Do you want to pick up?" Hyunjin takes his hand under your chin again and directs it up to make your eyes meet his, gaze frenetic as he tries to not look at your tempting lips. Everything will depend on what you decide now. And you think quickly, under pressure, and you don't know if it's a good idea or not but you shake your head and hold him tighter, hiding again.

"Y/n, please look at me…"

The phone eventually stops ringing and silence overwhelms you when you can hear his fast heartbeat right against your ear. And it's because of you, it's for you, your heart starts to adapt to his and you almost feel pain in your chest. It's too much, too much…

Ah, that's it.

You get on your tiptoes to pull him down by his collar and make your lips crash together.

Hyunjin drags you towards him as if you kissed thousands of times before, immediately, tongue slipping into your mouth as you grant him access, making it run along yours. You hold his shoulders trying to search for your lost balance and he's quick to walk you towards his bedroom, he isn't even slightly hesitant.

The desperate sighs you two let out add into the sound of your first kiss; it's a relief, something you didn't imagine to need so badly. Hyunjin pushes you further into the room until your legs meet the mattress and you fall on it guided by him, a knee starting to press beside you as he cradles on the bed on top of you. He can't stop kissing you.

Hyunjin clumsily reaches the lamp on the nightstand to turn it on and oh, oh if this is even better than any fantasy he's ever had… seeing you panting with that flustered expression, your legs already crossing beneath him, jumper half lifted up, your hair all disheveled since you quickly reached for your clip and threw it somewhere in the room. You just look breathtaking in his eyes, even more than any other moment he's ever thought about it. He has to let you know. You didn't think he'd turn on the light but maybe you can put aside your shyness for once if it means having this type of gaze reserved to you.

Your hands try to reach his shirt to pull him out of his trance and he resumes his kissing, hands flying on your sides as they slowly, painfully slowly slide down until he's hooking your pants. Hyunjin lowers down to press chaste kisses on the little part of your cleavage that is exposed, going down to your stomach, then your belly, until he darts his tongue out to lick a stripe just above your groin, leaving a longer kiss there while he proceeds to undress you.

The way you feel embarrassed when you remember you're wearing plain, white cotton panties… but it's honestly sending him haywire. The fact that you didn't expect to end up like this, a confirmation that you didn't plan anything to happen, it's making Hyunjin even harder in his confines. You're so wet your juices dampened the fabric, making it almost transparent, and he sighs at the faint outline of your cunt now puffy and pulsing… and he still has to touch you properly.

Hyunjin is honestly the same. You can't see it but waves of excitement run over him so violently he physically trembles and his legs give in from time to time.

“I'm gonna fuck you so good you won't dare to come back to him…” it's whisperes, almost as if he's accidentally thinking out loud but it makes you clench. Hyunjin's fingers start to tease you on top of the fabric, seeing the wet patch getting larger and larger. You can't believe this part of him exists… how many things do you still have to learn about him?

Hyunjin keeps on touching you there but this time he starts flicking, snapping his fingers where you're most sensitive, the tingles that start to make you jolt are strong and they make your breath sharp.

“H-Hyunjin…” your stuttering voice slightly higher as you call for him, he rolls his eyes back.

“Hyunjin please…” you can't help but pant, wrapping your hand around his forearm to try and make him slow down. Is this what those stupid magazines talked about? That sex feels better when you do it with someone you love? So fucking true.

Hyunjin feels on cloud nine. He starts paying attention on your neck tenderly but still with open-mouthed kisses as his fingers subtly slide your panties to the side. “Yeah petal, let me hear you, let me…” his words get lost as he concentrates. Ah, it's uncomfy for him. Hyunjin lifts your legs and carelessly slides your underwear off with a hiss, his eyes closing like they've been blinded by the vision of the Virgin Mary for a second, then maniacally staring at your bare cunt, digits caressing your wet folds mere seconds before plunging into your entrance.

You can only let out a choked moan and push your head back onto his soft cushions, that smells just like him. You're completely surrounded by his presence when his scent is all around you, his fingers move smoothly to work you open and his mouth is now latched around your nipple, his forehead pushing your jumper further up. When the hell did he…

“Is it good?” his voice displaying signs of fatigue, urgency and need buried deep inside him. You know his fingers are long but God if they can reach otherworldly places. It's not the in-and-out motion but the brushing of your g-spot that makes your legs close around his sides and poke his ribcage with your knees; he doesn't mind, your tits keep him occupied enough to make him mindlessly keep going. Hyunjin decides that prefers your chest covered in love marks over any art piece he's ever seen these past years, so nothing can disturb his work in progress. Maybe the work itself.

“‘S good Hyunie, Hyun…” it's difficult to breathe, it's difficult to think straight as the bumps of his fingers touch your insides so precisely, as if you've always done this and he already knew your body by memory.

“Did his fingers ever make you feel like this? Hm?”

The question makes you sigh along with a moan. You shake your head.

“Did he ever kiss you like I do?” and Hyunjin kisses you again as the movement of his fingers fastens. His teeth catch your bottom lip and his tongue slides against yours before he sucks it, drool making it shine where you two meet; passionate and euphoric, it feels like experimenting fireworks. You follow his lips when he detaches, but he just smiles and starts pressing his thumb on your bare clit. “Tell me, petal.”

“N-no…”

Hyunjin feels it, the way you start clenching around him, hard. He almost can't move anymore. So he whispers, just above the squelching of his palm spreading your wetness.

“Wanna go to Heaven with me, y/n?”

How, how can you say no? You need Hyunjin, even more than oxygen right now, he already has you completely. Your hands hurry on the button somehow miraculously keeping his pants together, and you reach his zip and pull the fly, that struggles to slide down ー he's too full.

“Wanna try how a real man makes you feel?”

You nod almost too eagerly and he chuckles within a whiffle. Hyunjin deprives you of his fingers despite your whines of protest and spreads your juices all over his face, tongue swirling on his hand. A low groan comes out from him, his touch moving to your hips where he squeezes, plush skin bending under his grip. It's all in contrast with the look in his eyes as he stares at your face, your reactions, as if you were the most adorable thing he's ever seen.

You're so distracted that when you feel something poke your inner thigh you gasp, and can only stare… his cock springs free from his confines altogether, long, slim and leaking, underside vein pulsating under the pads of his fingers as he pumps himself few times, precum dripping on your groin. Hyunjin's eyebrows are knitted together as he grinds between your legs, his still sticky hand moving your lower body closer so that he lifts you back up to wrap his arms around you, hugging you ever so gently.

His full lips kiss your cleavage and he curses under his breath because of his choice to not take all your clothes off but there's not much time anymore. You close your fists on his shirt, the lines of the fabric changing their shape under your hold while you wait for him, subtly writhing impatiently.

“Hyun please hurry…” not once in your life you've been this desperate for a man to fuck you. It's not because of the wait, not because you're horny, it's just that it's Hyunjin.

“Say it.” his eyes are darker, but they shine with the yellow-ish light in the room. He clears your forehead by adjusting your hair away.

You know what he's doing and it's nothing different from what you did before, in the living room, so you're more than willing to satisfy his request. You try to regain a bit of composure and steady your breath before speaking up, his head twitching together with every movement of yours.

"I want you, Hyunjin. I want you, please.”

A big bright smile spreads on his face as his head drops low, in disbelief. Hyunjin didn't imagine those words would have such a strong effect on him but here he is, blushing and trying to hold back a giggle. When he looks back at you he's serious again, eyes piercing into yours.

“I'm going in, hm? I wanna hear you scream my name through it all. Is that clear petal?”

What you'd give to hear him call you petal until the end of time, he says it and it's like dripping honey, he says it and you melt. The warm pool of pleasure in your belly tightens again as you say a shaky ��yes”. You're his delicate, fragile petal.

His tip rests just before your entrance for a second while he takes a deep breath, breaching you gently. It's not a big stretch but his veins are already making your eyelids flutter and your lips part. Inch by inch, Hyunjin makes sure you feel his cock going deep, concern showing on your features as he doesn't come to an halt. He does, eventually, but the time he took to do it seemed eternal. “Oh my- Hyunie-”

“Bet my dick feels better than his,” he smirks between the kisses he's leaving under your jawline, “I bet mine's longer too.”

His comments only add fuel to the fire. He's bigger, he's better, the curve of his cock lands exactly on the spot that makes you black out. As you remember that you're technically still in a relationship your phone rings again. It's a distant sound, it's in another room, covered by yours and Hyunjin's sighs and moans, but he hears it too. Hyunjin stops every movement, hips against yours as he's fully inside you. He lifts himself up just enough to check on you. You look at him too.

You don't exchange any word, there's no need to, because you both arch your lips upwards and meet mid-air for another kiss, tender but messy as he moves backwards to get a starting point to his thrusts. The ringtone eventually dies making room to the faint dripping of the rain outside.

You feel warm, squeezing his cock just right and he's sure he will never let you go, never let you change your mind.

“Pussy ‘s so tight petal, was made for me, ‘m sure,” and he starts moving with consistency, picking up a pleasant rhythm, “you're so fucking perfect.”

His necklace is cold against your skin as he keeps on holding you flush against him, as well as your rings leaving icy lines on his back when your hands slip under his shirt and hold onto his shoulder blades. Hyunjin throbs inside you, drawing loud moans out of you that someone will for sure complain about. He thrusts harder, faster, every second that passes and you can only call for his name, yours being whispered by him against your skin making you shiver.

“Waited so long, so fucking long-” a guttural sound interrupting him, “since that time at the club, wanted to make you mine.” he mumbles, words hardly making sense but you decipher them anyway and when you realize what he's talking about the confused memories of it flood your mind. You, swaying your hips in front of him, grinding your ass on his crotch following the music; Hyunjin's hands right under your breasts guiding you together with him, his breath fanning on your neck, drying your tears completely as those three drinks made your head light enough to not care about any problem you complained about minutes before. It was just you and Hyunjin, all this would've happened sooner if a series of coincidences didn't happen.

“You would've let me take you in the bathroom, isn't that right?” Hyunjin asks, not losing concentration even for a second. “I wanted to bring you here, and fuck the sadness away. Every time, y/n, I wanted to tell you to forget him and be with me.”

You feel him stretch his arm between your bodies, and you feel your swollen bud stimulated again, you both whine against each other.

“‘M with you now Hyunie, want only you, ‘m yours babe.”

He's so fast now, the snapping of his hips moving you up and down the mattress… your words affect him on a visceral level.

“I choose you, I'll leave him for you-”

“Fuck!” he's close, so, so close and your walls tightening more and more and more are making him go crazy. Little beads of sweat decorate his forehead, a caramel-like smell coming from him as the crown of his head dampens and some hair stick to his forehead.

His tip keeps abusing your sweet spot, the kiss you share is feverish, your nails dig into his skin and his hold bruises your soft one. Both your bellies contract and before you can process it you're coming, white pois pattern creating over your blinding vision. You say his name out loud, dragging it together with your last moan as the hardest orgasm ever washes over you. Hyunjin pulls out just in time, copious white ropes of cum landing on your stomach like dripping art. Hyunjin loses track of space and time for a few moments as he comes down from his high, then takes you close to him when he lays next to you. Your heavy breath fills every other sound in your ears as you get comfortable hiding in his muscular chest. Your body spasms, all energy left your body already and your chest rises and falls frantically.

Hyunjin caresses your cheek and kisses your hair. It's peaceful. You just had sex with your boyfriend's best friend and it feels peaceful. It starts to feel a bit cold so he grabs the soft sheets near him and covers both of you.

“When will you tell him, petal?”

The question floats in the air for a while. You start playing with his necklace, making it dance between your fingers. He starts to worry a bit, when you don't answer him, but he decides to be patient, like always.

“After we eat something, I'll send him a text.” you seem resolute, and he's convinced. “Can I stay here tonight?”

He's a bit taken aback, his eyes narrowing in surprise: “Wasn't it obvious? You'll stay here from now on anyway.” and he says it so naturally, you think he's thought about this moment a lot… it makes you smile.

Hyunjin rolls to the side briefly, taking some tissues to wipe yours and his stomach since his sticky cum was still there, and kisses the tip of your nose adjusting your jumper back to its original place before sitting on the edge of the bed and taking his phone, after finally freeing himself of his shirt. His back is slender yet defined, long, his spine making a beautiful curve. Your eyes travel from his nape to his glutes, the ones of a dancer. There's a doubt still in the back of your mind, you need to make it disappear.

“Are you… sad, that you can't be friends with him anymore?”

He doesn't even bother looking at you to answer, he keeps scrolling on the delivery app searching for something you may want to eat, the words he's about to say seeming obvious to him.

“We haven't been friends for a while already. I understood he's not the guy I met years ago, he changed, and I don't like to be around him anymore. Don't worry petal, it's not entirely because of you, I already wanted to part from him but you came into our lives so I endured it some more to stay with you… and it was worth it.” one of his hands shifts position behind him and taps the covers to signal for you to hold it. Your fingers interlace and he looks at you over his shoulder, slowly turning around, his body twisting slightly as he leans back again and kisses you sweetly yet still with some need.

Your breath is now steady, you're relaxed and it feels like Heaven, just like he promised.

"Pizza?"

You giggle and he follows.

“I love you y/n. I love you.”

[sleepyangelkami]

ONE DRUNKEN NIGHT b.blake

 ☆ WORD COUNT - 1.6K

BELLAMY BLAKE X FEM!READER

 ☆ SUMMARY - the group gets a little easy with the booze, leaving you sloppy and drunk, falling over your own two feet onto your boyfriends lap.

 ☆ WARNINGS - alcohol consumption, drunk!reader, slurring words, finn + clark (idk their ship name lol), reader menioned shorter than bellamy, nudity (not sexual), petnames, intended lower case, nothing i write is ever proofread 🩷

the smell of liquor and booze suddenly filled the nostrils of bellamy blake. though it were all around him, even in his own glass that he was drinking out of.

he'd drank quite a bit more than you, still keeping his composure while you tripped over your own two feet.

perhaps that was the very difference between you two.

the boy's lips quirked up at the sight of you, sloppily trying to make your way over to him. you had a smile on your face, cheeks tinged a pink due to the heat and your feet criss crossed over each other, unable to walk in a straight line.

however, it didn't take long for you to crash in your boyfriends lap, grinning as he used the hand that wasn't holding his cup to wrap around your waist. "hi." you giggled, pretty smile on display.

"hi, princess." he grinned back. he was spinning though only slightly. he'd built up a tolerance for alcohol whereas this was perhaps only your second time drinking ever.

your hands pawed at him, holding him as close as you could. bellamy discovered such from the first time that you'd gotten drunk, you quite liked to be as close as humanly possible to him.

your lips met just below his ear, smiling and puffing out a giggle while trying to muster the words, "'m a little drunk." unable to keep your composure for the sentence seemed to be the funniest thing you'd heard all day.

"mm, i can see that." though he didn't seem angry or annoyed with you. on the contrary, his eyes traced your face even when you couldn't keep it still, smile dancing on his lips.

a campfire surrounded you all, a bonfire, if you will. everyone messed around with one another, jumping on each others backs, yelling out and drinking booze, probably not the best way to spend the resources in a time like this but no one seemed to care.

if you were to be trapped on earth without adults, things were bound to go wrong.

he watched as you nuzzled into him, almost like a dog. his hands soothed against your waist, dropping his glass on the cement next to his thigh, hands against your body, lulling you softly. "now, who let my girl drink all that booze?"

your head popped up again, the slyest grin on your face. "i can't tell you."

the boy feigned offence, lips parting but by the smile still unwavering, you could tell he wasn't truly offended. "you're keeping secrets? how could you?" his hands dropped down, gently squeezing at your waist and making you yelp with a drunken giggle. "tell me baby, who's responsible?"

you grinned, a whisper leaving your lips. "octavia."

he wouldn't have expected anything else.

his lips parted again. "octavia?"

but you pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him while he tried to stifle his laughter at you. "shh." you spoke. "she'll hear and she'll know i told. have to keep it a secret." you unformed him, slurring your words.

"a secret?" he whispered back, large hand engulfing your smaller one by his lips, slowly retracting it from his face.

you hummed, nodding.

"can i tell you another secret?" your voice was below a whisper, barely audible but he was so close that he could hear you just fine, even behind all the screaming belonging to the others. he slowly nodded, awaiting your secret. "i saw clarke and finn kissing!" he gasped again, watching your eyes light up as he took interest in what you were saying.

it was the little things, egging on this type of conversation, entertaining the drunken idea of things. it was those things that made you so engulfed by him.

he could see you on the back of jasper jordan, yelling out and holding around his neck or jumping to a song with monty, hands in hands. there was no jealousy behind bellamy's adoring eyes. for he knew, no matter what, you would always come back to him.

"but―" you were cut off with a hiccup. "but you can't tell anyone because clarke will kill me." you pressed a finger to your neck, dragging it across as if you were having your head chopped off.

"she can try." he answered back, arms suddenly wrapping around you. "but she'll have to get through me first." you squealed as the boy hoisted you up, standing on his own and carrying you with him while you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "y'gonna dance with me, sweetheart?"

your feet dropped onto the floor, distant sound of the group making songs by singing and tapping their feet against the ground, clapping even, doing whatever it was to make the sound of music flow through the camp.

you tilted your head at him, straining your neck to look up with a smile. "thought you don' dance."

he tilted his own chin upwards. "something must have persuaded me."

"wonder what." you grinned.

"wonder what." he repeated.

your hand was already in his, dragging him towards the middle where the rest of the group stood, dancing and singing (horribly, i may add). but it didn't matter to anyone, all that mattered was the smiles littering across everyone's faces.

bellamy took your hand in his, twisting it above your head and twirling you. you were grinning, a giggling mess as you danced with the boy who'd swore he'd never dance with a girl ever.

something about that night would forever be engraved in your brain. even after you two separated into the crowd, bellamy's eyes never left your pretty face. jasper had you stuck between he and monty, everyone had formed this kind of circle, leaving bellamy at the other side next to miller. you jumped up and down, as did the rest of the group, chanting a song that would forever be framed in your memory.

it wasn't until the party had began to dull down and the singing quietened and the booze drained that bellamy finally had you in his hold again.

people still cheered and danced though at least half had left.

nobody could even be angry with the others who continued to sing until all hours of the morning, all they could do is wish they had the same energy as them.

speaking of which, your energy had gotten over it's spike, dropping to the ground as bellamy lead you back to your shared tent.

blankets were littered about the tent, tattered up mattress on the ground where he gently laid you down, stripping himself of his shirt. next, he knelt down against the bed. "c'mon, princess, help me get this off."

with the slightest of whines, you sat up on the bed, helping him strip you of your clothes. you found it was better to sleep nude and not sweat in your clothes anymore than you had to. "like when you call me that." your eyes were struggling to stay open, words a whisper.

"yeah?" a smile spread across his cheeks. they'd hurt hard from the entire night, smiling so much until they ached. and you were the entirety of the reason.

"mhm." you placed your head against his bare chest as he slipped off your cotton socks. "like a lot about you."

he rolled his eyes at this, never being one for taking compliments. "yeah, like my awesome dancing?"

he climbed into the bed, allowing your head to sit on his chest as his fingers gently danced down the delicate skin of your spine. "you don' dance." a yawn left your lips, silence becoming ever more apparent throughout the camp. "but you did because you wanted to make me happy. y'sweet like that."

he knew it was both the tiredness and the drunkeness talking but the softness of your tone, pretty words falling from your lips, the genuineness of your words was enough to have him holding his bottom lip between his teeth, fighting another smile of the night.

"y'think 'm sweet?" he questioned to which you hummed, nodding. "i think you're the sweetest girl the world has to offer."

your chin landed on his chest, tilting your head up to look at him, you swore his eyes sparkled when he looked at you. he swore yours did too. "i have another secret."

"yeah?" tilting his head at you. "tell me."

and you didn't miss a beat, your tone never wavered. there was nothing but absolute certainty in your voice when you spoke the soft words, "i love you."

his lips reached down as if on command, pressing against your own. he swore you were the softest being there was. he sometimes wondered how you could love something as rough and tattered as him. but that was how he knew, you didn't see him as such. a patch here and there, but through your eyes, everything was soft, beautiful. and he just so happened to be so lucky to be the centre of it.

"i love you too."

a sudden whistle of fabric was heard as you both turned upwards at the noise, brown curls falling into sight. bellamy, as if on command, quickly held the blanket further up your body so the intruder couldn't see you.

however, the 'intruder' soon proved to be jasper jordan who's goggles that usually sat on his forehead, now sat over his eyes. "oh, this isn't my tent." though he was giggling wildly. "are you guys reciting poetry?"

"what do you want, jasper?" bellamy's usually soft tone with you turned harder, deeper.

"look, can i just―" he was slurring his own words, hiccuping along the way. "can i just crash here with you guys?"

"no."

"no."

"well, you guys are lucky i know when i'm not wanted around."

and with another swish of fabric, the boy was gone.

you giggled into the chest of your lover. "i feel bad." you spoke truthfully.

"yeah." bellamy paid no mind, moving your body so that it sat against him, pushing your weight on him. "he'll get over it."

main masterlist/bellamy's masterlist

[purinfelix]

could u write something with joão pulling reader by the belt loops of her baggy jeans because he’s clingy

anon you have me weak with this request.. - hope you don't mind it's a little short!

It's like you suddenly gained consciousness after being on auto-pilot. Suddenly the clamour of the party - the bass of the music shaking the floor, people chattering and yelling around you, cups being slammed on every surface possible - floods through your ears, overwhelming your senses. You can't seem to recall how you ended up here, or why you even decided to come. You are, however, made aware of the person in front of you, an old friend probably, whom you can't actually seem to remember getting into a conversation with, but you still try your best to listen to.

"Yeah, so after high school I just up and left you know," they yell over the music, not even looking at you as you do. You can only nod in faux-understanding.

That's when you feel it, a tug from behind you, a tightening around your waist. You turn around to spot, on a couch you weren't aware was behind you, your boyfriend, eyes telling you everything you needed to know about how he felt about this party. His finger tugged at the belt loop of your jeans, pulling you closer to him.

Excusing yourself from your conversation you shuffle back to him, yet his finger stays hooked into your belt loop, not letting you go. All it takes is one look into his eyes and you're sold. You bend down to whisper in his ear, the only way you can properly communicate with everything going on around you.

"You want to leave?"

Straightening up, you watch him nod, bored and a little tired. Finally, he unloops his finger, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer, as you press a reassuring kiss to the side of his temple.

[leclsrc]

it’s never over ✴︎ cl16

genre: childhood friends to friends with benefits to lovers (a mouthful), smut, humor, Fluffff!!!!, several references to 70’s music, 

word count: 12.9k  

You must have lost the plot along the way, because pretending to date your childhood best friend was not on your 2023 bingo card. (Neither was the fact that things are looking a lot more real as time passes.)

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... handjob (f receiving), penetrative sex, semi public sex, praise central, size kink

auds here… hi hi hi!!! you’ve no idea how much i missed writing posting and interacting w u guys. thank u for all the love & follows i’ve gotten in my periods of mia. more things soon i promise ty for ur patience love love love u allll 🌟🤎🤠💋 this is my love letter to fic tropes. i feared if it was too long i’d lose the plot somehow so i had to condense it. i truly hope u all like it :) will try & reopen reqs sometime soon to get inspo kicking

It’s later than late. The lights are strobing purple and blue, the “let’s get you even drunker than you are” headache inducing kind. The floor is crowded, swelling with teenagers who are probably too young to get in, drunk off cheap aperol and watered-down tequila shots. You’re balancing yourself on a barstool, one hand busy wrapped around a slim glass, the other clawing your miniskirt lower because the air bites at your legs.

“Another voddy Red Bull!” You’re slurring, mind spinning almost as fast as your vision. You almost drop your empty glass in your rush to look for another one—but right as it slips clumsily out of your fingers, it’s caught. 

Charles, your cocktail’s knight in armor and yours just as well, is eighteen. His hair is  light brown and long, but not draping over his eyes like before. You know before because you’ve never not known before—Charles has been your best friend since you were five.

Snoopy, he says, voice steady and calm in your ear. His frame is still lanky but he’s tall and his grip on your shoulders is enough to quell the yelling. You pout. Get me another voddy red, you plead. Charlie, it’s my birthday. He smiles to himself, knowing your vision’s too cloudy to see him and your mind’s too bogged to remember any of this. You’d already slipped up and told two bouncers you were seventeen and not eighteen, like your poorly-Photoshopped ID suggested; Charles had to keep you in check, lest you or your friends end up kicked out of the club.

A song booms in through the speakers and your eyes widen with recognition. Charles doesn’t anticipate your reaction fast enough, affording only a stumble backwards when you attempt to leave the barstool to dance. He swears under his breath, mind recounting the five previous dance sessions that left you exhausted and out of breath earlier.

I’ll get you a vodka Red Bull if you sit down, he tells you. He enunciates because, twelve years later, you still can’t wrap your mind around his thick European accent. Sit down.

Alriiiight! You hoot, throwing two fists up in the air. Customary for many bartenders on nights as busy as this one, a free shot is thrust into your vacant hand and you cheer loudly, much to Charles’ chagrin. With whatever malice the eighteen-year-old can muster, he casts the bartender a dirty look before turning to face you again, worried. He places a hand on your shoulder and watches, half-anxious and half-endeared, you take the shot and visibly grimace at the raw taste. Fuck. It’s gin I think, you sputter. Charles presses: You okay?

More than, you holler, smiling. I am officially seventeeee— 

The bartender’s eyebrows furrow, the thirty-something businessman in the adjacent stool turns to look—so Charles has no choice but to shut you up, leaning in and pressing his lips to yours before you can seal your fate.

Your eyes widen briefly, and when Charles feels the passed seconds are sufficient, he pulls away. You stare, eyes hazy, at the pretty boy you’ve had feelings for since you turned fourteen, and lean in to kiss him again. 

—

Pascale is hosting her weekly Sunday brunch at the Leclerc residence, all French windows and wide kitchens and bowls of fruit. As always, your place is at the kitchen island picking at plates to taste test them. Bonjour, Arthur drawls when he walks in. He turns to Pascale. Mum. Then you. Snoopy.

You halt biting into your forkful of arugula and turn toward the younger Leclerc, eyebrows raised. “What’d you just call me?”

“Snoopy,” he says simply. He’s beside Pascale, one arm wrapped around her affectionately. “Or, Snoops, if you like that. Yes?”

“Who told you about that nickname?”

“Lorenzo.”

“Hasn’t been in use since your voice was cracking every sentence.”

“Tête de noeud.” Pascale swats his arm and he yelps, so you resume your arugula with satisfaction.

Charles is late for reasons he did not disclose, but everyone is used to it. The open kitchen door stretches into the front yard, where the table is set up and Lorenzo is setting the places. You know that although you usually expect a few more relatives, today’s just for the family—and you, but you’re basically family.

“How is Paris?” Arthur asks, licking hummus off a spoon opposite you. Your position is reminiscent of how you spent afternoons after school with Charles before, and the memory strikes a chord in you. Strange nostalgia, fondness.

“It’s fine.”

“Oh really?” He laughs in-between nibbles of carrot.

“I got an offer for a higher position,” you relent. Pascale calls you both, and you get up and walk toward the yard to sit down. “If you must know.”

“Oh? Let me know how that goes.” He follows you, carrot slice in hand, chewing. The conversation is cut short by the smooth noise of Charles’ decidedly un-smooth parking outside.

You’re seated at your usual spot—in-between Charles and Lorenzo, across Arthur—when the former finally walks into the yard. He looks tired, moreso than usual, bags under his eyes deep and hair a bit more disheveled.

He sits beside you. “I need to talk to you.” Then, quieter, “Private.”

You hum confusedly, eyes flitting across the three other people at the table to gauge their reactions. They’re equally aloof. “Wh—now?” He nods.

You end up talking in the kitchen. He’s sighing the whole fifteen steps there, rubbing the bridge of his nose, exhaling, inhaling. Ever observant, and of someone as close to you as he is, you pick up on the tiny actions, behaviors. Charles is wringing his hands. He’s tried to pop the same knuckle twice. He isn’t frantic—he’s scared. You lean against the counter, waiting, eyes looking him up and down to identify his exact emotions.

“Tell me,” you press. “Whatever it is, I won’t judge.”

“The—my—the iCloud of my phone has been leaked. The press found out.”

When you were eight and he was nine, you and Charles summered in Villefranche with your mum and dad. The weather then was the kind you could write love letters to and about—blue skies, salty wind, soft sand. The current was calm enough that you could ride the gentle waves without fear of going under or straying far from the shore, where your parents sunbathed blissfully.

Don’t drown, he’d warned you, ever protective. You wore pink floaties over your arms, so it was already difficult to.

You dove under with great effort, fighting against the buoyancy, and poked his bare knee, surfacing to watch his reaction. He grimaced. Slowpoke, you teased, swimming away. You wondered then what it might feel to drown. Maybe not in the blue water of Villefranche, but anywhere else.

You think it hurts to drown? You blubbered, bobbing above the wave. Charles swam in front of you and wiped water off your face gently. I hope you never find out, he said, smiling.

But this is you finding out. This is it now, the drowning. Your fingers flex over the edge of the counter and you gulp, eyes fluttering with nerves. “Shit?” It comes out like a question from how nervous you are. “Um, sorry. What are we—” But your question is cut short by Pascale’s voice, cutting through the tension like it’s wet cardboard. The agreement is silent and mutual: save this discussion for later.

—

Charles can’t wake up fast enough. There are calls, texts, voicemails from every officer on his team, which isn’t that surprising given he’s up two hours late. But the amount—the sheer amount of notifications is dizzying. Overwhelmed, he finds it in himself to pull up his search engine app and let his fingers possess themselves.

All he types is his last name, and then The Sun article is splashed onto his face like a pot of scalding coffee: “F1 DRIVER ICLOUD LEAKED, PERSONAL PHOTOS ALL OVER INTERNET.” Daily Mail is next, of course, watering down the situation to seem more dirty and scandalous: “Naughty Driver? Charles Leclerc’s iCloud Hacked, Reveals Mystery Girl.” And then of course Page Six, who doesn’t miss a beat—

Wait. He blinks and presses the back arrow to return to the previous webpage. He reads over it again, slower this time. Mystery Girl? Shit—no. No way. It’s almost (it should be) silly, the way he’s reading vigorously over the reports like he’s a fan, but he’s anxious. He scrolls, because if any tabloid is daft enough to publish the leaked photos, it’s got to be the Daily Mail.

He pauses his quick swiping when his eyes harden with recognition, and staring back at him, on his phone’s full brightness, is a picture of you on his lap at Christmas. It’s the one Lance took while attempting to guess Charles’ password, one of you wine drunk with his head buried in your neck.

It’s unmistakably him, at his own house in Monaco where the drivers had a holiday get-together. It’s unmistakably you, hair draped over your face, three gold rings on your fingers. You had just given him a Strokes vinyl, he recalls. That’s why you were hugging.

There’s another one of you playing Scrabble in his bed—he’s not in the frame, but he remembers taking it. This, he could deny. He’s not in it, and he’s pretty sure the fans don’t know his house this well. Already his brain’s doing manual damage control, dread filling his veins at the thought of reading through his team’s frantic messages.

Another message stands out, pinned on top of all the others—from his mum, reminding him about brunch. He gets ready half-focused, half-lucid. Fully worried. He worries about the PR crisis this may cause, about his iCloud security, about the reactions online. Above all, though, he worries about you. About what he should tell the press. About how “actually, we’re not dating, we just fuck constantly” might hold up for the fans.

—

You’re twelve and Charles thirteen, both of you seated across Hervé and Pascale. Behind them stand your own parents, and they all look stern. What this is, Pascale says gently, is a family meeting. Okay?

Okay. It leaves your high voices in shaky unison. You both know what you’re doing here—you snuck out of school to catch a movie earlier, the teacher naturally caught wind of the misdeed, and now you’re in a meeting for it.

Snoops, Charles whispers, trying to ease your nerves with lighthearted commentary. This is the worst.

No, you want to tell preteen Charles—this is. You’re older now, yet still subjected to similar questioning, though today it’s Pascale going solo. It’s been three days since the fated day where the press leaked the pictures of you and Charles in compromising positions, and like any boomer, she’s used Facebook to her advantage and gotten ahold of the compromising pictures, too. 

“How long?” Her voice is enunciated in hard syllables.

“Mum—”

“Answer the question.” She looks back and forth, moving into territory of intense questions. “Both of you.”

“Um.”

“Because… I’ve been…”

You notice it immediately, given your observant track record: her shoulders relax and her lips smile just slightly. You sit still, and wait for the next words out of her mouth. “…waiting for this all my life!”

You and Charles watch in mild horror as Pascale’s face goes from firm to absolutely elated. Her eyes soften and a smile spreads over her face, illuminating her with pure joy. Do you even know how many bets I made with your papa, Charles? She claps her hands together several times.

Charles opens his mouth to verbalize dissent, but she doesn’t take it—she’s already droning on and on about how long she’s waited for this to finally happen. Your eyes glide over to the doorway of the dining area, where Lorenzo and Arthur watch with smug looks on their faces. Little shits won’t help you. You don’t even try to protest, and at some point Charles gives up, too. You don’t know how it’ll come across, anyway.

Ninety minutes later, you’re in Arthur’s bedroom rifling through his desk and praying you don’t find anything too gross. He’s on his bed throwing a bouncy ball up in the air, conversing with Charles about your gameplan with their mum.

The sky outside is in limbo between afternoon and night. It’s cloudy, so the sunset is a pale yellow instead of angry orange. “Why not just tell her the truth?”

You’d also thought that was the easiest option, escape route, exit path. But that would involve breaking Pascale’s heart, and that was out of the question for you, let alone Charles, certified mommy’s boy.

“I can’t, Arthur.” Charles’ voice is steady and unwavering.

“You can.”

“No.”

“Fine. Next best thing then.”

You fiddle with a Rubik’s cube, then turn in the seat. “What?”

“Pretend you’re dating.”

“Arthur,” you say seriously. “Shut up.” But he doesn’t join you, and you realize neither does Charles. You stare blankly at both of them, unwilling to believe they’d actually bank on this as an actual plan. 

“You guys realize this kind of thing never works? Zero percent success rate.”

“It’s just paddock appearences. You’re not pretending for millions of people,” Arthur says, shrugging. He catches the ball and throws it to you—you catch it one-handed. “You’re pretending for Mum.”

“Sure. And by extension, millions of people. Are you dense, or do you think the paddock appearances will just breeze by everyone who saw the leaks?”

“Ughhh. You’re acting like it’s impossible.” Arthur holds his breath before he utters the next sentence. “Like you two aren’t fucking every other w—”

“—oh, my God!” Shocked, you get up, and so does Charles. “Wh—I’m—language, Arthur!”

Charles balks. “How did you even—”

“I didn’t. But merci mille fois for confirming my theory,” Arthur quips faux-sweetly, smiling dopily. “I mean, I was going to find out! Your pictures are so… intimate. So just pretend to date and throw Maman off your scent.”

You protest briefly, wrestling with the option, and reconvene on the bed, you cross-legged and leaning on Charles’ shoulder and Arthur in front of the both of you. He’s always had a knack for schemes—he never got caught sneaking out, which destroyed your and Charles’ record of being caught twelve times by either of your parents. It’s a bit childish, but he gets the job done.

“Do it for… let’s say a month. Tell Mum you’ve been dating a while—Christmas isn’t that long ago, and that was the least recent picture. D’accord?”

You both nod, hyperfocused. 

“During race weekends, be all over each other—shouldn’t be hard—especially in front of Mum. People might catch you doing it, but I wouldn’t worry.”

“No, wait—I mean.” You shrug. “People—tifosi—they know I’m Charles’ friend. They’re going to be all over the fact that we’re apparently dating.”

“Don’t worry. We’ll use palatable density,” Charles says, nodding.

You pause. Arthur does, too, sensing something off.

“You mean plausible deniability.” Your deadpan voice is tinged with amusement, muffled into his shoulder. 

“Right, ouais, that.” He smiles, chuckling a bit; his shoulder shakes with it and your head nearly slips off. He brings a hand to cup over your jaw and hold you steady. “Sorry.”

“S’fine.” You sigh. “I’m totally okay with this. Just worried it’s going to have unintended consequences.”

Arthur quells you with rushed explanations about how it’ll be over and you two can say something like we decided we’re better off as friends to really sell the thing. At the seven-minute mark of your and Charles’ intense interrogation, he promptly kicks you out to figure out if you’re willing to do it yourselves.

You wedge yourself into Charles’ front seat, knowing you were headed to his place anyway. You massage your temples with one hand and fiddle with the hem of your shorts with the other. Nervous. Antsy. “Did Fred say anything?”

“Got the IT team to fortify my account.” 

“You think this thing’s going to be okay from a professional standpoint?” You look up and toward him; he’s already gazing at you, eyes soft. “I’m worried. Plus, with my job offer thing in London and New Y—”

“Don’t be.” He starts the car and maneuvers out of the driveway, into the dips of Monaco streets and the familiar route back to his place. “Bitter with the sweet. The only thing you need to worry about”—he takes your hand in the centre console, laces your fingers together loosely—“is your acting skills.”

“God, you’re right.” You sigh, looking out the window. “How am I going to pretend I can stand you?” Then, for good measure, you squeeze his hand wrapped in yours.

—

You visit Monaco from uni in London over spring, and for the first time in months, your schedule aligns with Charles’—though you learn this indirectly when you visit the Leclerc home. Pascale, of course, is the one who tells you his new flat’s address before she presses a kiss to your cheek and then leaves to run errands in the city. Alone, and in a burst of excitement, you make the drive there, take the elevator upstairs and shove the door open without knocking. He’s there. Your Charles. You can tell because the music he plays is loud—The Kooks—like his ears are still fourteen and not twenty-one, like he’s still in middle school and not in Formula One.

“Save your eardrums,” you say, before beelining toward the couch and leaping onto him for a hug. He sits up to match your energy, arms wrapping around you, sitting up straighter to keep you from totally falling atop him. 

“How’s uni?”

“Shit,” you say into his hair. It smells like his shampoo and his favorite cologne. Clean, soapy. “Obviously. How’s the Ferrari?” 

“Amazing.” He smiles. “Obviously. How’d you know I was in? Mum told you?”

“Ouais. She’s running errands. Listen, can we drink tonight?” You sigh, parting from the hug and sitting across him.

Yeah, sure. His voice is concerned, thick with worry. You shake your head—it’s not that deep, you tell him. It’s just—I had a bad date before I left and it’s put me in the worst mood.

Oh? He leans back, clasping two hands behind his head as he goes.What happened? He laughs. 

You tense visibly, rolling your eyes despite yourself. “He was just weird. Nothing.”

He wiggles his eyebrows. “You shy, Snoops?”

Ha-ha. You roll your eyes, but your face is flushed and your gaze avoids him. You reach up to tuck the loose strands of hair by your ears behind them, face warm. You’d never talked with Charles about boys or flings before—maybe several times, but never in full detail. It was always vague umbrella statements, like Ryan is boring or Greg is such a prick, but never anything beyond that. Come to think of it, you don’t know why, either.

“You can tell me.”

“The—when we—I had to fake,” you say cuttingly. “You know.”

He purses his lips and smiles, eyebrows furrowing. I don’t, actually. Something unnamed trills through you—through your stomach and into your fingertips. Your first time talking to your best friend in real life after months of uni and racing and this is the topic? It’s, if anything, a sign of your growing up, you guess.

Charles lets up on the teasing and you end up rejecting the club in lieu of sharing a bottle of vodka, throwing it back raw and without any type of chaser (to really prove nothing at all; you don’t even know why any sane human would do this). You do a Just Dance party on his TV, even try out drunk sim racing and FIFA, but by the end you’re well exhausted and retired to the couch again.

His voice is wavy and tipsy when he speaks. “You really had to fake it?”

“Yeah.” You pout. “Can never—um, finish, I dunno.” Your inhibition’s gone, shame loosened and untied by the vodka. You shift in your position on the couch.

“Maybe because it was too casual.” His voice hardens.

“So you’re saying I should…” You swallow dryly, eyes fluttering. “Sleep with somebody I know?” You’ve dropped the implication and it floats up, hangs above.

His eyes flick over to your legs, folded on the couch. The hem of your shorts. Your fingers playing with your empty shot glass. He didn’t mean anything by that. He’s half-sure you didn’t. 

“I am just saying that a good friend would do that for you.”

“You’re a good friend,” you say, volume low. 

Five minutes later you’ve properly crashed into each other, him pinning you down against the couch, licking fire up your throat. His lips trail across your jaw. 

He dips a hand into your shorts, presses against your clothed core. He’s smiling. So wet for me. He’s got his mouth pressed messily up to your jaw, when he sinks one finger all the way in, slow and stretching; and you’re clenching around him—

Come on, he’s saying. Insisting. You’re trembling, yanking desperately at his hair as he pumps his finger slowly in and out of you, aching to be full of him, to take him deeper. 

He slips another one in, and you feel the cold of his ring pressed against your entrance, then he’s fucking them into you and you’re leaking around them. 

Yes, yeah, Charles—you’re gasping, airy breaths tapering into whimpers that sound sinful, desperate. He knows you so well already. Presses his fingers against your sweet spot, watches your eyes flutter.

So needy, and you’re chanting his name under your breath as he quickens his pace, craving the stretch of him desperately. I know you want to cum, baby. He’s calling you baby and you’re closer, so much closer. Come on, for me, yeah? 

You melt, crashing and crumpling into him and shuddering as you release all over his fingers. He presses his forehead to yours and lets you take a beat. You feel giddy and dizzy and warm, which is weird because you don’t feel drunk at all anymore. This dizziness is something different. It’s Charles.

“Are we going to do that again?” You ask meekly, hand still in his hair.

“Only if you want. Whatever you want,” he says. He’d do anything for you. He’d do whatever you wanted.

“I do, I do want.” And Charles, the good friend he is, helps you out.

—

Imola is humid, warm, and the racetrack is absolutely teeming with people. But you’re not there—clad in linen shorts and a fresh tank top, you’re walking around the vicinity of the track, cup of gelato in hand, sunglasses over your eyes. The restaurant near you is playing music out loud. Beside you, singing along and drafting a list of wedding appetizers, is Lorenzo.

“Lamb chops?” You suggest, licking amaretto off the plastic spoon. The weather is pleasant enough that people are crowding the streets without it being too unbearably hot. Stevie Wonder flows from the speakers, permeates the entire block.

“I was thinking more seafood.”  

“Tuna? Make ‘em little tacos.”

“Good idea. Think I’ll go for those. Hey, are you sure you’re on board with fake-dating my brother?”

You turn sharply toward him, taken aback. He hadn’t brought it up in the week and a half this plan had been in the works—he’d been privy to it the entire time, too, which makes it weirder that he’s asking so suddenly.

“I meaaan…” You slow your pace, contemplative. A shy smile plays at your lips, brows knitted together. “It’s only going to be for a month. Ish. So, yeah. Are you—do you—sorry. Is it alright with you? Sorry.”

“It is not not okay.”

“So it’s…” You pause. “Okay.”

“It’s—yes, but I worry, is all. How sure are you that this won’t hurt anyone?”

“I don’t know, it’s… bitter with the sweet. And who’s getting hurt… like the fans?” You laugh a little. “They’ll live, won’t they?”

“Like you.” He pauses. “Like Charles.”

—

Pierre is running a comb through his hair, staring at himself in the mirror; his Narcissus moment is interrupted by a banana to the back of his head. Bonjour, he says, monotone and already knowing the culprit.

“We need to talk.”

“Could this possibly be about the news of your brand new ‘girlfriend’ over last week? Where is she, by the way?”

“With Lorenzo. Listen, here’s the thing. Mum thinks we’re dating, and I don’t know how to tell her we’re not—so I won’t.”

“Lie to your mum, go ahead.” Pierre crosses his arms and hums.

“Tais-toi. It’s for her own good.” 

“So you’re going to pretend to date.”

 “Ouais.” 

“Should be easy. You guys are hooking up and making out or whatever all the time.”

Charles pauses and lets the silence speak for itself. When Pierre makes a noise of confusion, he gives. We don’t kiss, he says finally. She thinks it is too intimate, and we ‘are not dating,’ so sex is the only thing we do. Sex, and if you still have leftover antsy energy, you pull on his shirt and sit up against the headboard to finish a crossword puzzle. Sometimes he helps you, but most of the time he’s just there to press lazy kisses to your hair and temple, cheekbone and jaw—never your lips.

“You don’t kiss?” Pierre’s genuinely shocked. “Putain, you’re a hero. How does that even work?”

“We just do not kiss. We fuck, but no kissing.” He shrugs. “It’s always been that way.”

“So how about her birthday?”

“She doesn’t…” Charlex exhales tightly. “Remember.”

“Charles,” you suddenly say, head appearing into the doorway. “Oh, hey. Fred said you might be here. What are you guys talking about?”

“Sprint racing,” Pierre says, an easy lie.

Charles, though, is never good at the lying bit. “International tariffs.”

—

Your only memories of your seventeenth birthday are applying lip gloss and mascara, wearing your shortest skirt and tightest top, and reciting your supposed date of birth in line like a mantra. Anything after that’s been sprayed off by the ultra-clutch strength of vodka. Which, you’ve been told, was your drink of choice.

“Headache’s better,” you moan over the phone, face squashed onto your pillow. “Mum gave me an Advil but I was so sick all morning.”

“Did you snog anyone?” Charles is always teasing.

“God, I wish.” You shut your eyes and try to remember if your drunken stupor had somehow managed to get you successful in lip-locked matters. Nothing comes up and you wipe a dry hand over your face, heaving a sigh. “I really wanted to kiss Matthew but I think he left before you and I did.”

A pause. Then Charles clears his throat. “You mean you and me and the police car that escorted us home?” He snorts.

“You’re such a prick!” You scream into your pillow, laughing. “I already thanked you for being my literal savior last night.”

He smiles to himself. “You’re welcome.”

“Did you have fun?” You flop onto your back and stare at the stick-on stars on your ceiling. You make a mental note to try and remove them.

“Bit boring because I vowed not to drink at all, but I got to dance. Bitter with the sweet, right?”

—

“Nervous?”

“I mean, fuck, yeah.” You fix the hem of your dress, speaking to Giada through the phone. “Pascale’s waiting for us on the paddock. And so are, like, a hundred photographers.” You wince. “Can you even imagine Charles and me? It’s just—I dunno—it’s weird.”

“It isn’t,” she says, laughing. “Not really. It makes sense. Plus, aren’t you on the whole arrangement?” You envision her air quotes.

“Yeah, but”—you slip your sandals on—“it’s on and off, and that’s not dating. It’s sex. Two different things.”

“Is it really, though? Considering how close you are outside of bed, aren’t y—”

“Okay, input no longer needed,” you laugh. “Bye, Gi. I’ll text you later.”

You reunite with Charles just by the paddock entrance. The throng of fans holding cutouts and posters notice you two before anyone else does, inciting a collective bout of yells around the both of you. He notices your blue silk dress first, eyes unmoving. “You look like the sky.”

“Thanks, man.” A beat, and you squint through your sunglasses. “That’s a compliment, right?”

“Sure.”

“Prick.” You peek over them and to the fans, who wave more aggressively when they notice you’re looking. Nervously, you raise a hand and wave back, and the noise heightens. “I think I’m going to be replacing you.”

“Dream on. On y va?”

You turn back to him, smiling, and you both enter at the same time. His hand wraps around your waist, dips a bit lower to rest at the small of your back as you walk—the fans clearly dig it, because everyone’s yelling in a frenzy as you depart. What are you doing, you ask through your smiling teeth.

“Did you forget we’re supposed to be dating?” He maintains an equally pleasant (totally duplicitous) façade, smiling. 

“I didn’t think,” you say, still smiling falsely, “that you’d put your hands on me five minutes into the whole agreement.”

“Smile, honey,” he teases. “I see at least five cameras at us right now.”

“It’s seven,” you beam. “Dumbass.”

“Again with the competitive streak.” memory

“I totally deserved to win last week’s game. You’re just a sore loser.”

“No you’re just a—hi, hi, hello!”

Your walk to the motorhome is interrupted by running into a friend of Charles’—someone from McLaren, one of the executives there. While Lando has been informed of your stunt, nobody else on that team has. 

They handshake and he waves at you politely. “Whole paddock’s buzzing with news of you dating,” he says, smiling. “It’s a tad crazy! I remember seeing you as Charles’ plus one back when he was in Formula Two. And now you two are dating. How did—well, if you don’t mind me asking, where’d it all happen?”

“Oh,” you say, laughing. “Yeah, Monaco.”

“Texas,” Charles says at the same time.

Alarm bells go off in your head at the totally random, unwarranted statement out of Charles’ mouth. Texas? Neither of you have even ever been at the same time. “He means”—you say, coughing and nodding—“we went on this, um. Wild West themed, um, restaurant in Monaco, and that’s where he asked me out.” You make a face that you hope conveys you get it, and it seems to work.

“Definitely not what I had in mind, but if it worked, it worked, eh?” He grins. “I guess I always knew you two would end up together. Alright, ciao!”

You’re smiling and waving after him as he leaves, and then you’re (semi) alone again, or at least within your own space on the incredibly crowded paddock. 

You turn to him, unable to hide your confusion. “Um? Texas?! What’s up with the backstories?”

“It slipped out! Sorry. But nice save.”

“You’re so f—” You try to scold him, but can’t, bursting into laughter and leaning forward to laugh into his chest. “Texas, really?”

“Sorry,” he says. You feel the vibration of his own laugh through his chest and it’s warm and nice. You peel yourself off lest you look too clingy, and resume your walk to the motorhome.

Ferrari is crowded, filled with people and strategists and guests. You’re given a bottle of water and then hounded with questions from the team who haven’t been informed of the situation at hand. David, one of the engineers close to Charles who you’d previously spoken to in one of the earlier races, asks to borrow him.

“Ciao, ciao.” They speak in one of the outdoor patio areas. “Is everything okay?”

“The car is fine. I just wanted to ask about the girl.” David punches his arm, playful. “You finally got her!”

“Oh.”

“It’s just… I remember all the times she would show up and you’d tell me about how much you liked her… I don’t know, it’s perfect for things to end up like this, no? Bravo!”

“Oh, si. I’ve just been, you know…” He looks through the glass sliding door and into the hospitality, where you’re talking to Isa and Carlos, sunglasses over your hair. Your hands are moving quickly, and you’re smiling while talking. He wonders what you’re so passionate about. When you’re caught in fits of happiness and passion, you’re extra animated. Your eyes are lively, and your lips can’t stop curling into a slight beaming smile. Now, maybe it’s France, maybe it’s crossword puzzles, slim chance it’s your job—whatever it is, he could watch you talk like this for hours. He thinks it’s beautiful, the way you transform, the way you smile, when you talk of things you absolutely love. 

“… crazy about her forever.”

—

There are banners, Italian flags, and Charles’ face on every other wall. He’s done his first hat-trick of the season (of several more, you’re hoping). You’ve foregone the usual clubbing for dinner with a smaller group of people, but only because you’ve been told the nightlife is bleak and you’d rather save that energy for the next race.

Lando picked out the restaurant—he’s “on a massive Yelp high” trying to get the best restaurants in every city they get to. He’s tried two over the weekend, and is hoping this guns for first place. The restaurant’s name is long and so very Italian, to the point where your semi-fluency fails you. The food is amazing, though, and so is the wine—a whole other level of grape-flavored bliss.

You’re in-between Joris and Charles, nursing your fourth glass while Charles downs a bottle of beer. Light conversation flows through the table, but your sleepiness only allows you to hear some of it. You’re content with the white noise.

Lando is getting a new cat, Lewis bought a new pair of shoes—oh, no, shares in the company that makes the shoes—Joris bought the shoes, Lorenzo will now buy the shoes, why isn’t anyone paying attention to Lando’s cat. It’s funny, entertaining, and the perfect nightcap to your immensely exhausting day of acting.

Wine tipsy makes you loopy and snoozy. By default, your head lolls onto Charles’ body; he immediately wraps a sweater-clad arm around your frame, leans back, pulls you closer. Doesn’t miss a beat. In fact, while doing so, he’s even able to get a dig in against Lando’s affinity for cats.

“No more wine, m’kay?” He whispers quietly, angling his head to yours. 

“Oh, but it was so good, though.” You mope, but nod in agreement. “I could seriously drink wine out of a keg here.”

“Sure did that a lot with beer.” You laugh, punching his bicep with what little space you’re given. “You sleepy?”

“Yeah. But I’m fine,” you respond, smiling. “Now shut up. I need to know what happened to Lando’s cat.”

Lewis leaves first, claiming he’s into this whole “sleeping at 9PM” thing, and Lorenzo follows to get ahead of an early flight tomorrow. It’s you, Joris, Charles, and Lando now, and you’re good as dead, eyes half-shut and fluttering, head slipping off his shoulder.

How was it? Lando asks, lowering his volume to keep from being too jarring. Day 1, fake dating? I actually read something like this in one of those, um, fanfiction stuff the fans do. Joris and Charles cast him a half-weirded out, half-amused pair of looks, but Lando defends himself. They’re actually pretty good, guys. I read one where I ended up with my rival or summat.

“Sorry to burst your bubble, Lando,” you croak, voice raspy with sleepiness and a day of bubbling laughter, “but Charles and I probably didn’t do your fanfiction kink justice.”

“Ignoring the emasculation.” He says, turning beet red. “What’d you do, then? Wasn’t it hard?”

“It was hard, but it’s like that.” Charles likes to substitute the phrase it is what it is to it’s like that, a result likely stemming from his trilingual childhood. “We just. Pretended. Oi, we held hands in front of the cameras.”

“Yeah, you can get a good wank in if that does it for you,” you joke. Lando hurls a cube of parmigiano at your face; it lands squarely and you flip him off, the table erupting with peals of laughter.

“In all seriousness, though—how are you two okay with this? I know I’d be second guessing my feelings every second.”

You shift, trying to hide your obvious lack of answer. It’s quiet for a few seconds, and then Charles says, “We’re both comfortable with each other, I think.”

“Yeah, comfortable enough that we can, you know, be honest.” You’re looking at Lando when you say that. You don’t know how well you could repeat the sentence if you were looking straight into Charles’ eyes.

You leave the restaurant with a generous tip, and Charles helps you pull your coat on when you’re out the door, back into the chilly night air. It’s then that all four of you catch news via text, of a club invite somewhere in the city.

“It’ll be fun, guys.” Joris and Lando stand in front of you and Charles, bumbling with excitement. “I heard Lil Tjay is going to be there.”

“It sounds very fun,” you say, smiling, “but I might pass out if I drink anything other than water, and I have zero energy. You three go ahead.”

“Wh—no, I’m not going, either.” You raise an eyebrow at Charles. “Serious! I wasn’t in the mood much, anyway. Joris, take Lando’s car and we’ll take mine.”

“Alright,” Lando whistles. “Suit yourselves, agoraphobes.”

“Joke’s on you”—Charles smiles, smug—“I don’t know what that means.”

“Not the dig you think it is, Charles,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Night, Joris, Lando. See you guys tomorrow. Use protection!”

“Should be saying that to you guys,” quips Joris with an evil grin that he closes the car door on.

The climb into the car feels like a chore in itself with how tipsy and sleepy you’ve become. Charles likes to bring his Ferrari to race weekends, but you convinced him to use a different car for this one, because you honest-to-God can’t stand the low seats anymore. 

“You want dessert?” He asks when he’s rounded the car and settled into his seat. “Gelato, a cone, biscotti…”

“No, no,” you say, voice thin. A palm covers your shutting eyes; blindly, you reach for his hand. It’s easy because he sees you searching and takes your hand to cut it short. “I’m good. So sleepy. Can I sleep at your hotel room?”

“Sure.” He starts the car, waves to the wait staff idle by the entrance, and drives off. “How was the day as my fake girlfriend? Anyone ask about me?” He wiggles his eyebrows, flickering his gaze to your figure beside him. “Wasn’t too tough, I hope.”

Imola whizzes by, trees and city, and a poorly stifled yawn escapes your lips, wine stained. You laugh sleepily. “It was a bit awkward, but bitter with the sweet, right?” He smiles, nodding, and you continue. “Yeah, few strategists, some people who knew you from Prema. I was talking to Isa and Carlos, too, earlier. Even if they know it’s fake.”

He recalls seeing you talk to them through the glass. “About?”

“You.”

—

The sun is merciless on the clay courts, and so are your shoes, shuddering against the surface in your continuing attempt to beat the opposing team. Charles cowers behind you—he’s scored less than half of your points thus far—but you’re on a mission, like your competitive self always is when you’re put in a position to be able to win.

You’re two points down now, and the noontime is becoming increasingly itchy and unforgiving; across you both, Giada and Joris call a mutual time out. “That’s not allowed!” You say, petulant.

“This is a practice session,” Charles says gently, nearing you. “Mate, none of us are actual players.”

You wipe sweat off your forehead. “Right. Désolée. I’m just—I’m in the zone.”

“Ouais, I get it. Relax, m’kay? We got this.”

You shake yourself off and hop a few times, skirt bobbing by your waist as you go. Your braid bounces on your shoulder and you nod, turning your racquet over in your grip. 

Charles pings the ball hard and it soars over to land just shy of the line, seemingly scoring a point for you two and securing your win. Giada and Joris chime in with protests, claiming that the ball’s out. You throw your hands up in question.

“Okay, what? That was clearly a point!”

“Snoops, I think they might be right. The ball looked out to me,” Charles says, wrapping a sweaty arm around your red shoulders.

“What are you talking about, Charlie? That ball was in! I saw it!” You elbow yourself out of his grip, aghast.

“How about…” He suggests quietly. “We let them win? You did win the last”—he pauses to count—“five sets. Come on, Snoops. They need this. Bitter with the—”

You take a deep breath, staring into his eyes. “Fucking sweet, right, okay. Fine, fine.” 

Charles thinks he’s in the clear and he’s managed to extinguish your flames of frustration—that is, until you walk into the Leclerc household for lunch an hour later and, after greeting Pascale and Hervé, you point squarely to the jar on the kitchen counter. “Five euros.”

He splutters. “Five? Wh—non, non! I was trying to calm you down.”

“You were blind and gave Giada and Joris a fake win,” you say playfully.

“Saluuut,” Lorenzo greets, sitting at the stool beside yours. “Quoi de neuf?”

“Charles has five euros for the jar.” The jar, the infamous jar, sometimes dubbed the Dumbass Jar when Pascale’s out of earshot. It was Lorenzo who first made it up after three straight instances of Charles pulling a push door (three different establishments).

Arthur’s joined in at this point, but its biggest indirect donors are definitely Lorenzo and Hervé, who view it as just about the funniest thing in the world. Out of pity, you don’t call dumbass too often, but the tennis loss is bruising enough that you warrant the usage.

“You heard Snoopy. Five euros. We’ll be able to get milkshakes with this money after next week.” You high five. “At this rate, Charles, you could open a restaurant in Paris.”

“He’s going to race,” you correct. You both watch a begrudged Charles junk a bill into the nearly-full jar. “What race driver is going to open a restaurant?”

—

You meet Yuki Tsunoda on a flight to Nice. You’ve seen him several times before, not too frequently but enough that his name and face are familiar on your mind. Also a personality trait that Pierre would bring up in fond conversations with you and/or Charles: he loves food, apparently.

“Yuki’s volunteering AlphaTauri to be your hideout,” Pierre tells you and Charles, across him. 

Turns out, the hardest part (insofar) of this whole schtick: the officially appointed paddock photographers are being extra sneaky with it, finding the best vantage points to snap pictures of an unwitting you and Charles.

They’re like hawks, watching for even the slightest glimpse so they can post the photos on Instagram and get clicks.

So, just a few hours earlier, Charles asked if there was a place you and him could talk if needed where photographers wouldn’t be awaiting you already, and this was the answer.

“If it’s too much trouble, feel no need to… you know.”

“Nonsense.” Pierre smiles goofily and Yuki pokes him to stop, pausing his session of eating a quesadilla (where he’d even acquired it, you’re clueless). “Yukino would be happy to.” 

The flight lands and the drive to Monaco is infected with notoriously slow traffic; you pop an Advil to try and alleviate the motion sickness. Pierre and Yuki, it seems, have joined you even outside of the flight. They’re in the backseat offering bits of conversation.

“Oh, mate, we should totally play tennis while we’re here.” Pierre sighs. “Didn’t you guys play before?”

“Mmm, yeah,” you mumble with a lilt of amusement at the memories from basically a decade ago. “At the country club. Doubles always, otherwise I’d knock Charles out of the park.”

“Hey, I won a couple times!” He protests weakly. “Like… twice.”

You laugh out loud. “Anyway, Pierre, do not bring me into tennis. I get all competitive and develop anger issues.”

“I had to calm her down twice a set,” Charles says; you swat him lightly to silence him. “Still do.”

“You know, if the Dumbass Jar still existed,” you say cuttingly, “I swear I’d be able to buy off Ferrari with that money.”

—

Monaco is swelterinly hot today. You know this because you know the weather here, you know the curves and ups and downs of it—this is your home. And today is hot. Every few minutes a breeze filters through the air and you can hear journalists or PAs sigh a collective breath of relief before they’re all subjected to the inane, high-degree weather again.

It’s also, according to Arthur, a good day to kiss in front of the cameras. He says it easily over a plate of sliced kiwi, with a devious smile, because he assumes your friends-with-benefits arrangement equates to constant kissing. But the truth is you’ve never kissed Charles, and it intimidates you.

“Do we have to kiss?” You play with his bracelets, sitting beside him on the sofa. The talk of kissing entertains the thought of sex and you can’t help but mentally complain at the remembrance that you haven’t gotten laid in weeks.

“If you don’t want to—”

“I do.” You splutter, eyes going wide, face warm. “No! I mean I don’t mind. If it sells the thing.”

“D’accord, then we will.” He smiles. “That okay?”

“Sure. First kiss,” you say. Your voice feels as clammy as your hands.

“First.” He looks away.

You take your woes off the kiss by playing a friendly round of tennis with your favourite opponents, Giada and Joris. They bemoan your competitive nature (that, to be fair, allots you and Charles three straight wins), and Giada incites a protest for a girls versus boys round.

You both embarrass Charles and Joris, heckling them as you win another two straight games. Charles runs over to you when you throw up the L sign on your hand, lifting you up and making you squeal.

“Put me down, loser!”

Giada and Joris exchange a look. Amused, knowing. “Charles! You’re such a cunt.” You kick hard, and manage to snag his abdomen, so he gently places you onto the clay again. He laughs and paces back over to his side, and you play with the tail of your braid as you watch.

You play set after set, but the kiss comes anyway. When you know photographers can see you—by the entrance—and it happens faster than your mind can muster. He’s leaning in, you’re reaching up, and your mouths slot together. It’s—and it feels crazy to say it, but—

It’s perfect. It’s lovely. You smile against his lips like they belong there and like they’re familiar and yours and like maybe this is all you’ve ever wanted, and like they deserve the smile, because they do. You feel your need to pull away before you can’t help but keep him tethered to you always. It’s strange and it’s not platonic—you’re mature enough to admit that, but not enough to label exactly what it is.

You spend the day with your fingers pressed to your lips, like you’re sealing the memory. Hours later, Charles wins. There’s massive uproar and you’re in the crowd when it happens, in the sea of strategists going to congratulate him on winning Monaco, which—that’s—it’s winning Monaco. Your ears ring by the end of it and your throat’s dry from your own cheering. Carlos comes in second, and the outlook for their team is going much better than it’d been at the start of the year, so there’s a lot to celebrate.

And celebrate you do. It starts with being pinned up against the door, hungry kisses along your jaw and neck. One kiss, it seems, has broken the dam from the few years you’ve spent abstaining from the kissing. He’s just finished interviews. He’s only just changed into his polo, and now he’s tugging it off again, feverish.

This is rushed and dirty, down low and dark. Only one light’s been switched on and he’s hiking your dress up, panties down with one hand to tug his cock out with the other. He’s kissing you—kissing you stupid, almost. Like he’s waited forever to taste your lips and now he’ll starve if he’s away for just a moment. He needs you. So have me, you want to say, all of me, push me up against the wall again and cover my mouth with your palm. Or don’t, don’t—so everyone knows I’m yours.

He presses your chest against the wall so your back’s turned to him, thrusts in with a breathless, throaty grunt. 

“S’ big,” you’re saying, clawing at words the pleasure bars you from finding.

“Barely even in,” he whispers. “Slow down, baby, come on, take it.”

Your toes curl. You’re high on the win, on the kissing, on Charles, on the slow delicious stretch of his cock. “I’m taking it, I’m taking it,” you say, shaky. He thrusts, slow and deep and dirty, until he’s bottomed out and you’re tiptoeing from the overwhelm.

“I feel you,” you’re whimpering, moans and gasps leaving your mouth. You blindly search for his hand, find it against your hip, drag it to your abdomen, under your dress that he hasn’t even fully removed. “I feel you there,” you say, an edge of teasing to your voice.

His cock’s bulging, almost, out of your stomach, and it’s getting you both all lightheaded. He thrusts harder, a devious smile felt against your neck.

I need it, Charles, you plead, please, please fuck me harder. You feel it coming, the familiar pleasure intensifying so quickly—you don’t usually cum so early, he’s always making you wait for it—pussy squeezing around him.

Jesus, already? He’s groaning but a laugh escapes, breathy and amused and taunting. He’s fucking you harder, faster. It’s so good, each hit getting you closer. Taking me so well, you’re bruised all over now, baby. You hate how well he knows what turns you on; memories of mornings post-sex spent inspecting the purple marks on your hips flash through your head and you’re even closer now, shaking, whimpering, begging.

You’re half-sure someone can hear, but it doesn’t even phase you. Harder, deeper— and you’re collapsing, legs spasming uncontrollably, orgasm so intense it’s on the brink of totally hurting. Tears roll down your sweaty face and he kisses them away, cumming onto your back to wipe off in a few minutes.

“I never even”—you pant, tired—“got to say congratulations.”

“That was more than enough.”

—

Charles is elated when you tell him his family has thrown a party for him the day next. He’s boyish in that way, optimistic and kiddy, the kind of person who’s up at five-thirty to announce their own birthday. 

He drives you both to his childhood home, a route so familiar he could drive with his eyes closed. (“I hope you’re not driving closed-eyed,” you’d warned.)

Even if he could, anyway, he’d rather not. The scenery of Monaco is stunning, ever-changing, and he never tires of it—the buildings, the skies, the trees and shrubbery, stores lining the streets, clean entrances. 

And you—in the passenger seat, humming softly to a song of his choosing. Drives are always better when you’re in the passenger seat.

The turnout is generous: extended family, and several friends from school. There’s bowls of fruit, salad, plates of salmon and racks of lamb, knobs of butter with warm bread. Pascale commands the kitchen—visible in how she leaves it cluttered with bowls, ingredients, whisks still dripping with syrup or batter, spoons licked for tasting. The good kind of clutter.

Lorenzo has also taken reign of the AUX, because it’s 70’s music playing, which is what he’s fond of for family gatherings like these. It’s My Cherie Amour now, Stevie Wonder mellowing across the lawn and into the house.

Charles knows you love the kitchen as much as his mum does, so when you get to the house, he’s not surprised to see you leave him in favor of checking out what damage has been done to your favorite marble countertops. He watches Pascale turn from the gas range, her eyes lit when she sees you, inviting you into an embrace. 

You look like the song playing, pretty and lovely, breeze in the summer. He almost loses himself in thought before his great-aunt Eden places two bony hands on his arms and greets him in feeble Italian.

He flits his eyes away from you, if just briefly, and faces the woman with a smile on his face. “Ciao, zia,” he says, voice buoyant, happy. “You came here to see me, no?”

All five-foot-one of her shakes in disagreement. She wags a finger for extra measure. “No,” she says. “Sono venuto a vedere la tua ragazza.”

His eyes widen. “She’s—” He pauses. He debates telling Eden you’re not actually his girlfriend, that this was a setup to appease Pascale and, by extension, tifosi. But he backtracks.

He shouldn’t, but he gives in, lives out his dreams for a bit. “Ah, she’s over there, zia. Con mamma.” He points to the open door, and to you on the far end of the room inside, holding a spoon. “Beautiful, yes?”

“Molto,” she says proudly. “You marry her?”

Fact: his great-aunt has the worst memory. She forgot Charles’ name twenty times, let alone niche facts like this one. Another fact: she rarely shows up to family events. Maybe now, because it’s a racing thing; but baby showers and funerals, she’s at home. So he indulges a bit more.

“Si, we’re engaged. But—it’s a secret, zia.” He grins. “Non dire a nessuno. Okay?”

“Sei fidanzato?!” She claps once, excited. “Ay, Charles. I waited my whole life for this moment, si?” And she’s wobbling away, still muttering under her breath.

—

“How is my son?” Pascale’s voice is teasing. She sighs happily. “For years I wondered if this would happen. And it really is.”

“Oui, sure is,” you sing-song, laughing a bit awkwardly. “We’re—he’s okay. We’re great. In love.”

“Oh, in love,” she swoons. She leaves you, after fifteen more minutes of detailed discussion, with half a spoonful of vinaigrette to taste-test, departing to check on the guests for a few minutes. In her place arrives Lorenzo, already bearing a shit-eating grin. “Saluuut.”

“Mmm, good to see you, too.” You taste the liquid and add lemon to the bowl. “How’s wedding planning?”

“Think we’ll throw a shower. Is that pretentious?”

“No,” you say, mulling over it. “Sure, a bit. But just don’t make it a whole thing, you’re golden.”

“I see.” He sighs fondly. “You know, many a conversation we’ve had right here at this counter. About anything.”

—

You loosen your school tie, slicing an apple like you so often do, waiting for Charles’ karting practice to end. Pascale had fixed you a bowl of something, Hervé a glass of orange juice. And somebody else would always, without fail, steal your food. A hand swipes two slices form your chopping board and your head whips up.

“Lorenzo!” You stomp your foot. “Stop stealing! That is my apple.”

“You mean the Leclercs’ apple.” He laughs, pops another slice into his mouth, smiling. 

You roll your eyes, shaking your head. The braid beside your head shakes with it as you continue slicing it into perfect quarters. He pipes up again: “How was school?”

“Shit, as usual.” You lower your voice and smile, leaning in. “Pascale scolded me earlier, for saying that word.”

“Did Papa?”

“Obviously not. He fist bumped me.” You share a laugh, both chewing on apple slices now. “Anyway, I aced a math test, had aubergine for lunch… got driven here by Charlotte’s mum.”

“Charlotte?” Lorenzo hums conspiratorially, making a mmmm sound. You look up from the yellow chopping board, furrowing your eyebrows. He persists: “Mmm. Cha-r-lotte.”

“What’s up with Charlotte?” Bit impolitely, you ask, in-between chews.

“I think she likes Charles, a little.” You nod slowly, trying to follow. Charlotte liking Charles. Your Charles. Wait, no. Not your—or nobody’s, really. Just Charles. Yeah.

“What? Bull!” You narrow your eyes. “Says who?”

“Why do you care?”

“Wh—I don’t!” You squeak, caught. “Just… I think I’d know, Lorenzo.” You make a tch noise, crossing your sweater-clad arms. “So—says who?”

“I saw her leering at him during his birthday party.” 

“You’re wrong,” you say, but you don’t really know who you’re convincing. He reaches over for an apple slice, and you move the chopping board out of the way sharply.

“Mon dieu, you’re snappy. Fine, fine. I might be wrong,” he relents, shrugging. He gets up and slides beside you to be able to acquire more slices. “I talked to her during the party, too.”

“Weirdo,” you tease, allowing him to take a few more. “About Charles, yes?

“No, about her brand new dress.”

“You’re the funniest Leclerc brother, I assure you.”

“She told me…” He says, louder this time, shushing you effectively. “She told me she ‘finds Charles cute.’” Air quotes, shrug. “But that they ‘probably won’t’ date.”

“Huh. Did, um. Did she say why?” You play with the tail of your braid, shuffling back and forth on your flats. You don’t know why you’re so fidgety—you aren’t nervous, you don’t think.

“Because…” he says, chewing to allow for a pause. “She said every time she looks for Charles to try and ask for time alone, or on a date, or something, he’s already following you around like some puppy.”

—

You comb your hair into a bun and venture into the patio, having avoided a good chunk of the noon heat. You greet some relatives politely along the way, and receive a hand squeeze from great-aunt Eden. At one of the tables is Charles, beside Joris and another friend, and Giada and Charlotte across them, an empty seat beside the latter.

You seat yourself in it and Giada kisses your cheek. “Hey. Ça va?”

“Fine,” you say, smiling. Then you lower your voice to a whisper. “Do you remember when I told you about my crush on Charlie? For the first time?”

“Yeah,” she whispers back. “Around… 2013.”

“Ouais. And… and it disappeared after that,” you say. “Right?”

“You said it did,” she says. “A year later. When we were sixteen.”

“Right.” You think. Seventeen onwards—you’d never formed a full-fledged crush on Charles. “Okay. It’s nothing. Just a memory. I was just. Yeah, oui.”

“Oui, let’s eat.” The memory fades and so does your running mind. Charles’ eyes meet yours across the table, and suddenly you feel a little less like your thoughts have ripped you open.

—

When you and Charles were younger, you adopted the adage “bitter with the sweet.” Charles will have people believe it was made by the both of you, with philosophical minds stretched so far beyond their years. Well, revisionist history. The truth lay in the Carole King song of the same name you’d heard on the stereo.

Those are the exact words Charles tells Ted when he’s interviewing for the Spain Grand Prix. It’s a hot day and you’re especially doubled down on by the fact that he’s finished ninth. 

You’d been fake-dating for the cameras all weekend. At all costs, you try and avoid interviews, but the damned Drive to Survive producers insist on a soundbite and start following the two of you around everywhere (only to find your conversations sound very weird and niche, and not scandalous or sexy).

Pascale also called—Charles first, and when he didn’t check his phone, you. You spent an hour on the phone just talking about the race. About the penalties and the nasty headlines that followed, and just everything.

“I’m glad you’re there,” she says. “God knows he needs you.”

You end up biking to try and relieve the stress, posing with fans for pictures.

“I’m such a big fan. I stalk Charles’ Insta like, all the time, and it’s crazy how you guys are dating.” A teenaged girl laughs nervously. “Where’d it happen?”

“Texas!” He, again, tries out the bit to appease the fans but you have to extinguish the flames of his blatant lies.

“He’s kidding,” you interject. “It’s just—it just happened, really.”

How does something just happen? Someone told you once, in a Paris bar, that love is like an echo. It’s always there, in the underbelly, underneath it all, and then one day it echoes, like a bass drum or a cymbal. And the echo—the echo is you feeling it. You feel the echo, the all-encompassing echo, even if the love itself’s been there all along.

With Charles, it’s out of the question. You love him. He’s your best friend. You trusted him before you even learned what trust meant, for Chrissake.

How could you not love him? That seemed impossible. The love was there. The love’s always been there and it’ll never go away.

It echoes at half-past-two in Barcelona, when he whips past you on his bike and says on your left. The breeze pulls your hair to the left, covers your face, and when you rake it away he’s stopped to check if he accidentally bumped you in his rush to look cool.

You’re creepily observant; you’ve been told this many times before. What people don’t know is with the observance comes even more questions. Ifs, whys, wheres, whens, hows, God the hows. The questions keep coming because there’s never an answer.

“Are you okay?” He asks. Green eyes glittering like a lake. Smile like the sun. Hair curly at the ends. “Did I hurt you?”

Then you realize. In the matters of love, every question—every single question. Every single one. The answer is Charles.

“Of course not,” you say. And you smile.

—

You almost drop your book in your rush to scurry past the paparazzi. They’re still busy on the two figures (Alex and Lily, you think) on another end of the paddock, which allows you only a few moments to try and evade them.

Others are stationed near the Ferrari hospitality, which means you’re going to need your hideout. Yuki had texted Pierre who had texted Charles who had told you that it was all clear to go there for a few minutes while waiting for the photographers to clear out.

Hurry, Charles is saying. Laughing. His hand’s gentle in yours. You want them there forever. You want to drag the tip of your nail over the barely-perceptible grooves of his fingerprints so he knows how much you need him.

The days post-Spain were spent biking, watching shows, listening to music, eating food. The travel to Canada—long, cold, compression socks. Pascale had called mid-flight to check on her “favorite pair”—you maneuvered yourselves into a much more cuddly position to appease her, and her giddy smile was incentive enough to stay that way for ninety minutes.

You’d been in a weird mental state trying to grapple with your rapidly returning and intensifying feelings for him, which have dawned on you all at once.

But he makes it better. You’re still laughing when you wedge yourselves in, eyes meeting.

And then you’re quiet.

The gaze you share is intense, but almost unsure, like you’re supposed to be looking away anytime now. You step backward shakily, and his hand moves from your waist to the small of your back to keep you from stumbling any further. You’re closer now. But this shouldn’t feel as strange as it does when you two have been in much more scandalous positions before—what’s different?

He’s so close, so so close, his green eyes looking right through you. You lean closer, ready to kiss him like you have before, ready to feel his mouth slot softly over yours, comforting and safe and Charles.

Funnily enough, it’s then that the illusion breaks, his grip loosening and the distance between you increasing. He coughs twice, awkwardly.

“Shit—sorry,” you say profusely, clearly having read the moment wrong. Embarrassment wells up in your system, warming your face. You laugh to diffuse the tension but it barely does anything.

“No, don’t—” He exhales, squeezes the bridge of his nose, trying to find words. “It’s not that I don’t want to kiss you. I do.”

“So kiss me,” you suggest simply, looking around for anything that might stop him. The embarrassment ebbs away, replaced quickly by confusion. 

“I don’t want to kiss you in an AlphaTauri stock room,” he mopes, burying his head in his hands in clear frustration. “An AlphaTauri stock room.” He repeats it in a hushed whisper, disbelief etched all over his pretty face.

“Charles,” you begin, smiling already, the quaint way that makes his knees go weak every time. “You’re acting like you and I haven’t kissed before.” 

“This is different.” He says firmly, looking away lest he lean in involuntarily. He interjects with conviction, not realizing what he’s implying until the implication’s hanging in the air. The longing kills him softly, and he feels if he looks at you a second longer he’ll kiss you anyway.

It’s a wonderfully confusing feeling. You open your mouth to respond but you can’t; your brain tacks itself onto his sentence, the division created between the kisses before now and the kiss that might happen anytime soon.

“H…” you trail off, throat drying. Blinking, you try again, “How different?”

He looks up, eyes conveying all the things his lips never will. This is different. You know it. I love you this time.

The answer is exchanged and accepted wordlessly. You slip out of the room when Pierre tells you it’s okay to, and it’s only then—only then—that Charles’ hand leaves your body. You seem to burn alive with its absence.

It’s a Ferrari 1-2. You snap a thousand pictures with Isa and Carlos holding Carlos’ trophy while Charles is doing interviews, and they invite you to join them for the break. You’re open to it—the win, the good standings, they definitely warrant a celebration for the few weeks’ break. So your original itinerary is Portugal—beaches, coasts, food—but the jet re-charts a route and the flight is cut much shorter because you’re in New York City.

—

Somewhere in Manhattan, a wedding shower is thrown on an outdoor rooftop. “This is one hell of a wedding shower,” you squeal excitedly when you spot him, bringing Lorenzo in for a hug. Your yellow dress flows in the wind. “I thought you guys were going to throw it in Monaco?”

“Yeah, well… why not here, right? It’s beautiful.” He gestures to the skyline, smiling. “Plus, Charles, Arthur, and Mum were already near the country for work, so we got ahead of it. Everyone was happy to fly out.”

“Well, for what it’s worth, I love it.” You beam. “I can’t believe it, either. When’s the final date?”

He opens his mouth to reply, but the wind is knocked out of him by Charles barreling into his arms for a hug. You roll your eyes at the latter’s childish behavior, smiling despite yourself. They part and Charles finds his place beside you, arm snaking around your shoulders. “What a wedding shower!”

“Don’t flatter me, dipshit,” Lorenzo jokes.

“It’s a lovely one.” Lorenzo thanks him. “An amazing shower. You know, it’s a total golden shower!”

You purse your lips. “Charles—”

“A golden shower, mate. Absolutely.”

That garners at least three odd looks and you calmly place a hand on his chest to whisper don’t ever fucking say that again it means something completely different please don’t embarrass me or your brother. 

For all your embarrassment, you make up for it in having the literal time of your life. The food is good, the city view is amazing, the weather is fair and the music—Desafinado now—is amazing. “I could see myself here,” you say offhandedly to Charles, who nods back with a faint smile. He’s half-distracted.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” he says, squinting from the sun in his eyes. “Very.”

You part ways at some point—Pascale whisks him off, no doubt for another long round of questioning about your relationship, and you meander around with a glass of champagne.

You’re halfway through swiping a mini quiche when a hand wraps around your wrist and squeezes to get your attention—Charles’ great-aunt Eden. She speaks only intermittent English, and your Italian fails to carry you through well enough, but you smile and greet her. “Ciao, Eden!”

“Ciao, bella.” She smiles. “Flight was long.”

“Oh, yeah. New York’s far. I might work here someday. I’ll hear results in around two weeks, but I’m hoping for London instead.” You slow your speech.

“When will you two wed?”

“Wed?” Your face warms and you stutter through a giggly mess of a sentence. “Oh, Eden—zia—no, no! We’re just friends.”

“My Charles told me you two are to be married.” You both crane your heads to the right, where Charles is leaning against the terrace railing talking to one of your friends, Matthew, animatedly. He meets your eyes, sees Eden beside you, and seems to connect the dots.

Jokingly, perhaps, he raises his hand and wiggles his empty ring finger. You can’t help but smile as you turn back to the old woman. “Oh, did he, zia?”

“Si, he did.”

“Well, we’re just going to let it happen, then. You’re invited. Front row.” You kiss her cheek and she smiles, wobbling off to drink more wine before any of the adults can stop her.

It’s announced then that the dance floor is open, and many of Pascale’s friends filter through to show off their moves to the 70’s music. You watch, amused, at the display of dexterity to Frankie Valli and Aretha Franklin. You cheer them on, content to watch them against the backdrop of the New York sunset.

When Ain’t No Mountain High Enough plays, the dance floor grows, because nobody can resist the song—not even Charles, apparently, who takes your hand without preamble and takes you, squealing, to the centre.

You sing each of the parts, like you always do when the song comes on. It’s semi-tradition at this point: you take Marvin Gaye’s, Charles takes Tammi Terrell’s. You both exaggerate your dance moves and pretend you’re performing.

His hand’s in yours, winding you around and pulling you close. At some point he starts robot dancing to entertain you. It works—you laugh out loud, your eyes half-shut and faced to the stars above. He could write a poem about this. Or a song.

The song ends and you lean onto his shoulder to take a breather—then the photographer swoops in and takes a picture. “That’s going into the RSVPs!” He says, accent unmistakably American.

“Does he know we’re not the couple here?” You ask.

Do we know we’re not the couple? Charles asks himself.

The night escalates as the “oldies” leave, and Matthew, Joris, and Giada join you both for one last round of drinks again. You’re all standing at the exit making conversation; Lorenzo attends to his friends at the other end of the terrace.

“I feel young again,” Matthew says, liberated by Tito’s vodka. He takes another swig and pulls his coat on.

“You’re twenty-five, calm down,” you joke. “Dodged that bullet.” You’re poking fun at the semi-massive crush you had on Matthew in secondary school, and a laugh passes through the four of you. “Anyway, you three be careful. No driving.”

“Jesus, but really—I haven’t been this drunk since you”—he points at you, laughing—“turned seventeen at that club, Amber? No?”

“Oh, God. Y’know, same.” You fail to notice Charles and Giada share a look. “I remember nothing from that night! Or, like, the first two hours at least.”

“I remember drinking my body weight because of heartbreak,” he jeers. 

“Heartbreak? Were you—were you with anyone?” You ask, confused.

It happens before anyone can stop it. “No, when Charles kissed you. And you kissed him after. Alright, night mates! Lorenzo—merci!”

Oh, fuck, you hear in the back of your now-muddled brain. Giada’s voice.

You open and close your mouth. “Ch—wait, he—what?”

“I—let’s talk here,” Charles flounders, dragging you to a more secluded spot and facing you. The three of your friends exit; Giada waves, apologetic. “When… we were at Amber… and you were absolutely hammered, we kissed. It was twice—just twice. And you didn’t, um. Remember a thing.”

You’re unsure. “In Amber?” You blink, confused. “What do you mean?”

“We… I don’t—I mean, I understand why you don’t remember. We kissed that night.”

“So that’s… Charles… You didn’t tell me.” Your voice quivers, like a wire flicked. “Why didn’t you say it at the time?”

He doesn’t give you an answer. He just looks at the counter, imagines the way your eyebrows furrow, your lips move, eyes glitter. He can’t give you one. He doesn’t want to hurt, disappoint, sadden you. He wants to get on his knees and root you here, so he’ll have all the time in the world to come up with an answer.

“Charles.” But he loves you, and he can at the very least be honest for you. “Look at me.”

“I was scared.” His eyes gravitate to yours.

“Of?”

“It felt stupid, is all. That you didn’t remember, and maybe you did but you were pretending you weren’t. I didn’t—it didn’t—sorry.” He laughs, stutters. “I convinced myself it didn’t mean anything because we didn’t have feelings for each other.” He pauses. “Then.”

“Well,” you say, slow. Eyes stuck to his. “How about now?”

“Now?”

“I love you, now. I mean, isn’t that all this is? Loving? Even if? De—despite of?” 

And this—God. This is how it feels. He’s looking at you and you’re telling him you love him because you do, and finally he’s been over with reassurance.

You love him, too. That way. He trembles with it. His hands are shaky when they lace into yours, like you’re a shrine, a prayer, and he feels like maybe these are the emotions that swirl through the human body when one wins the lottery and gets struck by angry lightning at the same time.

This is it, he thinks. Profound and lovely and an echo of sweet memories. He’s yours. Here in a city unfamiliar to both of you, yet to be conquered, your fingers lace lightly and you smile, smile, smile at each other, as if you’re the last two people on Earth. He’s yours, so foolishly in love with you.

Even far from home, you’re both filled with warmth, with longing. Extended stares, pits of your stomachs welling up with something lovely in between homesickness and nostalgia. Here again, you again, us again—it’ll always be us again, your heart seems to say, surrounded by the same love the same hurt the same sad the same everything, you and me, all the love in the world, all the confusion, we’re here. It’s never over.

Across the terrace, Lorenzo watches. Two figures, laughing, emanating happiness, gentle unkowing love. You two have finally made it here, after what felt like a thousand trials and dreams and stories.

So even if you’re taller, in high heels and a yellow dress—and Charles is broader, in a suit and tie—Lorenzo thinks he can blink and see the two little kids who hosted a tea party in the backyard. He can blink again and see you hugging, eyes shut, his lips pressed to your forehead to convey the intimacy nothing else will do as well. 

“So what now?” You ask. Again with the questions. In your defense—it begs so many follow-up questions. A love so many years in the making—layer after layer after layer—of course it begs all the questions, almost to the point of overwhelming capacity. What’ll we tell Pascale? The fans? The family? Everyone?! 

But one look and he makes it better. His green eyes, bright against the deep black of the skyline. You’ve grown. You’ve done it. You’re here. “We’ll figure it out.” He smiles. “We deserve this kind of ending, don’t you think?”

—

“He has my name.” A tubby finger points to the boy on the greeting card. “That one.”

“And who’s the dog?” Asks the girl beside him, hair wound into a plait. She likes this boy. He’s cute. She plays with the end of her braid and stares, eyes flickering in-between him and the card they’re staring at.

“The name’s right there. They’re best friends.”

“Okay, that’ll be me.”

“So that’s us.”

“Oui.” She smiles. “Charlie and Snoopy.”

–

read an omitted scene here :)

[4unnyr0se]

❥ the babysitter | choso kamo

warnings: normal! au, babysitter! au, fem! reader, choso loves yuji so much and it makes my heart happy, switch! choso, switch! reader, oral sex (m! receiving), heavy use of marijuana, choso is a dick in the first part, hickeys, very lewd language, breeding, unprotected sex, sex while high, making out, mac and cheese, he whines a little bit, degrading if u squint

MDNI | 18+ content

word count -> 5.4k

“For a whole ass weekend?” Choso yelled, slamming his hand onto the kitchen table, hissing at the stinging sensation that followed shortly after. He gripped his phone so tightly that it almost cracked the cheap plastic casing surrounding the expensive tech. “You seriously hired a babysitter through the weekend? Why? I’d do it for free, for fucks sake!” He groaned, grumbling profanities under his breath. He didn’t mind that his parents wanted him to watch Yuji while staying at a hotel for a couple of days; he didn’t. But he did mind his parents hiring a babysitter to stay at their house through the weekend to watch Yuji with Choso. He didn’t fucking know who you were. Did his parents even perform a background check on you? Sure, they had always been slightly relaxed, but did they loosen up since he moved onto campus? For all he knew, you could be a serial killer or a felon or really fucking annoying. 

Choso cringed at the sudden height in volume as his mother yelled at him through the phone, lecturing him about getting over his trust issues and just taking it easy for once. Choso mumbled a goodbye and shoved his phone in the back pocket of his ripped black jeans, his violet eyes staring blankly into nothingness. Did he seriously have to put up with a total stranger for a weekend? At least he could hang out with his little brother, and that’s probably the only good thing that could come out of this mess. 

Walking quickly up the stairs, he entered Yuji’s room and found him sleeping peacefully. A small, content smile graced his lips at the sight, the sound of Yuji’s adorable snoring immediately soothing his panicked nerves. Choso bent over his little brother's bed and kissed his forehead carefully as if Yuji could break at any moment. Content with his sleeping sibling, he walked downstairs and flopped onto the sofa, crossing his muscular arms behind his head. He had hit the gym occasionally, but after getting some comments about his offsetting appearance, he had decided that working out in the privacy of his dorm was the best move; Choso didn’t have the energy to tell the dickhead gym bros to go fuck themselves. Who knows, they’d probably enjoy it. 

The doorbell rang, that annoying cheerful tune blaring in Choso’s ear. “Yeah, yeah, hold onto your tits.” He grumbled, pushing himself off the couch to answer the annoying ringing. His eye peered through the peephole, meeting a distorted image of your face. Choso chuckled to himself, finding the image of your distorted expression amusing.

“Hi, it’s Yuji’s babysitter. Your parents mentioned me?” you yelled from outside, slightly muffled by the thick wooden door. Choso reluctantly opened the door to allow you inside, his gaze glued to the tips of his scuffed Doc Martens. “Yeah, about five minutes ago. They should have told me a few days earlier, but you know, parents…” he trailed off, his deep voice barely audible. He held his hand out for you to shake in an ill attempt to converse. “I’m Choso, by the way, Yuji’s older brother.”

Chuckling, you removed your jacket and threw it onto the nearby coat rack. You shook his hand and gave Choso your name, noticing his hands were cold. “Yeah, tell me about it.” Seconds of awkward silence followed, Choso still looking at his feet. “So, where’s Yuji? Do I get to meet the little guy tonight?” you broke the uncomfortable silence, stepping towards the elder brother. 

Choso shook his head adamantly, lifting his unsure gaze from his shoes. He crossed his fit arms and leaned against the painted gray wall covered with family photos, Choso smiling in each of them, albeit softly. “Nah, Yuji’s asleep right now. His bedtime was an hour ago; you would know that if you knew anything.”

Offended at his words, you placed a hand on your hips and shot him a quizzical look. “Hey man, you don’t have to like me but don’t be fucking rude. I care for Yuji’s well-being just as much as you do.” you retorted, a displeased expression crossing your face.

He finally looked at you and sighed, uncrossing his arms. “You’re right, sorry.” Choso noticed that behind your annoyed expression, you had kind eyes and maybe an even kinder heart. Rubbing the back of his neck with his ringed fingers, he licked his bottom lip in a failed attempt to find his words. Despite his alternative presentation, Choso usually had a very extensive vocabulary. So why were his words failing to meet his lips? “I’m…I’m not very trusting around others, especially my baby brother.”

“Well, I’d hardly call him a baby. He’s five years old.”

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t realize you had a degree in being an older brother,” you smirked, sitting on the couch. The material was leather, no doubt Italian. His parents had some money, but you should have assumed that based on the enormous sum they deposited in your bank account a few hours ago.

Choso flashed you a subtle grin and gestured to the kitchen, your charismatic words breaking through his protective persona. “You want something to eat? It’s late, and I dunno if you’ve eaten already.”

“Sure, that sounds good. I only had some ramen to eat anyway,” you said as you stepped into the kitchen, shrugging as you sat down. I don’t do fancy dinners; there’s too much pressure to finish everything. It stresses me out.”

He nodded in agreement and reached into the cabinet above the granite kitchen counters, grabbing a box of instant mac and cheese. “Kraft isn’t too fancy for you, right? Yuji’ll eat anything, but Kraft is his favorite.” Choso chuckled, placing the box on the counter. “I keep it high up so he doesn’t snort the cheese powder, he’s such a little shit.”

“You’re smiling.” you pointed out, poking his cheek with your manicured finger. It was a simple manicure, only a black coat of polish with purple and red dots, but it really did look pretty on you. 

Choso shrugged, took a pot from a nearby drawer, filled it with water, and placed it on an oven burner. After turning up the heat to a medium level, he turned to face you with a neutral expression. “How cheesy do you like it? Mac and cheese, not shitty movies. If you make a joke about shitty movies, I’m going to punch you. His voice was so low that you couldn’t tell if he was joking, but you prayed he was. 

You bit your thumb and raised an eyebrow, subtly grinning at him. “How’d you know I was gonna make a joke, hm? Can you read people really well or something?” You tilted your head to the side, letting your hair fall onto your left shoulder. 

He smirked, noticing that you were pretty adorable under that sassy exterior. It could be a defense mechanism, and Choso couldn’t blame you. He was being a total asshole earlier, so he definitely deserved it. Perhaps he would get along with you more than expected and approve of you as Yuji’s babysitter. “Yeah, I can read people pretty well.” Choso tried not to brag, but that smirk would not disappear from his chapped lips anytime soon. 

“What do you think of me then, hm?” you smiled and pointed at yourself, your necklace dangling off your neck and above your top. 

Choso pretended to think momentarily as the water finally came to a boil, tossing the uncooked noodles into the liquid. “Well,” he spoke, stepping towards you. Choso propped his arm against a cabinet, his muscular form leaning over you in intimidation. “You’re sweet, but you can be pretty mean when you’re defensive and have a kind heart. Children like you and look up to you, and you probably have excellent taste in music.” He raised an eyebrow smugly, his silver piercing reflected in the kitchen's light. “Am I right?”

A blush dusted your supple cheeks, taken aback by his accuracy. Was Choso secretly stalking you or something? “That was…scarily accurate. Are you a psychic or something?” An uncomfortable laugh escaped your plump lips, the blush still lingering. 

Choso shook his head, taking the now-cooked pasta off the stove. “Nah, sweetheart. I’m just smart as hell.” This time, he flashed you a full smirk, tearing open the cheese powder packet with his sharp canines. Your blush grew more intense, your mind catapulting your thoughts into a darker and lustful setting. How would they feel on your neck, raking against your skin? Would Choso be gentle with his nibbling, or would he become beastly and ravage your neck until it was black and bruised? Hopefully, Yuji was a deep sleeper, maybe then the two of you could-

“Hey, you listening? What size portion do you want?” Choso snapped his painted fingers in front of your face, snapping you out of your arousing trance. He was much closer to you now. His nose was almost touching your forehead.

“U-uh half, please. Sorry, I was thinking about stuff,” you mumbled, stepping back to create distance. “Sometimes my mind wanders, you know?” 

Choso grunted in agreement, handing you the portion of the mac and cheese. “I added some butter and milk when you weren’t looking, which makes the cheese powder less dry. It’s how Yuji likes it.” He took his fork to his mouth and ate a noodle or two, seeming content with the flavor. “I like to think that even when he’s a bratty teenager, he’ll still like mac and cheese.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a bite of the macaroni as well. Choso was right. The extra butter and milk enriched the flavor of the cheap cheese powder. “I like to think that nobody really outgrows mac and cheese. It’s one of the rare foods that people of all ages enjoy, like toast or apple juice.” you smiled, taking another bite of the meal. “Delicious mac and cheese, by the way. Can we sit down and eat instead of standing? Y’know, like normal people?” you winked and strode to the living room, carefully sitting down to avoid making a mess over the cushions. 

“Oh, right, sorry.” He mumbled, sitting down next to you. His shoulder brushed against yours, and your eyes drifted to his bicep muscles, admiring his strength. Most alternative guys you knew were slim, but Choos was different. He was really different, and that was fucking sexy. “So, are you in school also? I’m a junior at Tokai University. I’m studying biomedical engineering.” He sighed, placing the bowl of mac and cheese in his lap. “It’s fucking hard work, but it’ll be worth it when I’m rich as hell and can buy things.” 

You placed your empty bowl on the coffee table, wiping the cheesy residue from the corner of your mouth. “Oh, I’m taking online classes through a program. I’m studying child psychology.” you nodded, sucking your fingers clean with your mouth and tongue. Choso bit his pierced lip slightly at the seemingly innocent display, blinking away his perverted thoughts about you. You were just Yuji’s babysitter, right? It was cliche as hell for the older brother to want to fuck the babysitter, but maybe it was a cliche for a reason.

“Child psychology, that makes sense. Maybe that’s why you’re such a good babysitter so far,” he observed, wiping off his mouth with the back of his hand.

“I mean, I haven’t really done anything yet. Yuji’s still asleep upstairs.” you pointed out, taking Choso’s bowl out of his hands. “I’ll clean up, I don’t mind.”

He raised an eyebrow and slowly nodded, shifting his position on the couch slightly. “If you’re offering, I won’t stop you. Go wild.” His deep voice rumbled in your ear, diverting your thoughts to the dirty ones you had earlier.

Hunched over the kitchen sink, you scrubbed the pot and the bowls clean, humming your favorite song softly. Choso remained in the living room, staring blankly as the newscaster predicted the next morning's weather. “Hey, it’s gonna rain. What do kids Yuji’s age like to do when it rains?” he asked over his shoulder, not getting up. 

“Same thing they do when it’s not raining,” you replied, your voice dripping with sarcasm as the last dishes were dried off and placed in their original drawers. “Run around screaming because they’re five and don’t experience fatigue like we do.” you sat yourself down next to Choso again, this time slightly closer. “Listen, your parents paid me through the weekend, so I’m spending the night. Wanna watch a movie or something? I don’t mean to be rude, but I am very bored.” 

Choso chuckled and looked at you with his violet eyes again, a smirk on his lips. “Well, we could do something that would help you relax.” his voice flowed like warm honey, hinting at something much more devious than you had realized. “You ever smoke before, sweetheart?”

You nodded and kicked your feet onto the coffee table, hoping he wouldn’t mind. “Once, when I was in high school. We smoked under a bridge ‘cuz our parents were being dickheads,” you laughed to yourself, fondly remembering what took place a couple of years ago. “I have such a low tolerance. It only took a couple of hits of a joint for me to get high.” A grin remained on your face, the happy memories lightening your mood. “I felt like I was floating.”

“Yeah, weed does that to you. It’s nice, though, right? Like all your worries go away.” Choso stood up, slapping his thighs. “I’ll be right back.”

Nodding, you observed him walking up the stairs. The sound of rummaging from his room was undoubtedly the result of him anxiously shifting through his nightstand drawer to find what he was looking for. After a couple of minutes, he yelled for you to come upstairs.

“Shouldn’t you be quiet? Yuji’s sleeping just a few doors down.” you whisper-shouted, voice filled with concern. 

Choso laughed and shut the door behind you, opening the window close to his bed. “Please, that little guy could sleep through an earthquake. Don’t worry about it, that’s my job. I’m his older brother, after all.” he dangled a baggie in front of your face, the contents having a powerful aroma. “Behold, stuff of the gods.”

Sitting on his bed, you rolled your eyes playfully at his childish demeanor. “I’m sure it’s incredible stuff, Choso. Better help me relax, or I’ll be pretty upset.” 

“Trust me, sweetheart, this shit will make you float into the sky,” Choso smirked, taking the bud out of the baggie. “Don’t look. I can’t reveal my secrets to you just yet.”

Your hands covered your eyes as you giggled, imagining what he was doing. “You aren’t lacing it or anything, right?”

“Fuck no, I’m rolling a joint. Whoever invented laced shit needs to get their dick chopped off.”

You giggled once more. “What if it was a woman, hm?” you inquired sarcastically, your hands still covering your eyes.

“No woman would ever create something that fucked up, no offense,” Choso muttered, finishing up with the two joints. “You can open your eyes now; it’s okay.”

Your hands left your eyes and landed on the two joints in Choso’s hands. They were smaller than expected, or maybe Choso just had huge hands. “Uh, you’re gonna have to guide me through the process. I haven’t done this since high school, remember?” you rubbed your arm with your hand, silently hoping he wouldn’t think you weren’t cool. Why did you want Choso to think you were cool? You were only staying so you could look after Yuji. 

Choso sat down next to you and patted your shoulder in reassurance. “Don’t worry about it. Even though I’m an asshole, I’m not that big of an asshole. I’ll show you.” He grabbed a lighter from his nightstand and held it to the joint, lighting the end of it like a cigarette. “You inhale, hold the smoke in your body for as long as you can, and breathe it out. It’ll make you cough, but that’s just what weed does. It still makes me cough.” he chuckled, putting the joint to his lips and sharply inhaling. You observed as he sucked in his chest for a few moments before breathing out the smoke, the scent of marijuana quickly filling the room.

“Shit, that’s good stuff,” he mumbled, passing the joint to you. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to, just saying. None of that peer pressure shit here.” his violet eyes were slanted, making your heartbeat quicken.

“No, I’ll do it. God knows I could use the relaxation. Shit’s been tough.” you sighed and took the joint from his tattooed hand, putting it to your lips. Squeezing your eyes shut, you inhaled deeply. Your eyes shot open after only a second, coughing harshly. “Fuck!” you grunted, handing the joint back to Choso. “Ow, my lungs! Well, there goes my hopes of being an organ donor. Fuck.” you giggled, hugging your knees to your soft chest. The scoop-neck top you wore showed off your cleavage beautifully, and Choso couldn’t help but stare. Your breasts look so smooth and round. He wondered if you would let him touch them, graze his thumb over your nipple, and let his mouth suck careful bruises onto the supple flesh. 

“Yeah, there it fucking goes.” he chuckled and took another hit of the joint, setting it down in his ashtray after. His mind started to feel fuzzy, almost soft. Like he was floating on a cloud made up of the finest cotton money could buy. Did you feel this way as well? Were you also floating on a cloud?

Your head began to feel light as a feather, and a delighted smile crossed your face. “Dude, it feels like I don’t weigh anything at all,” you laughed, leaning towards Choso. You observed the bags under his eyes and how his eyeliner was thick and dark, highlighting the golden specks in his purple irises. “D’ya also feel like that, Cho’?”

His name poured out of your mouth, smooth as honey. God, he loved how you said his name. It was probably the sexiest thing he’d ever heard, and he just had to hear more. “Yeah, sweetheart, feeling fucking amazing,” he spoke gently, a blush tinting his pale face at the proximity between you two. “I wanna feel like this all the time, but I have stupid fucking responsibilities like school. Not Yuji, though. Yuji will never be a burden for me.”

You smiled and rested your head on his broad shoulder, enjoying how close the two of you were. “You’re such a great brother, you know that? Yuji’s lucky to have you, Cho’.”

“Fuck, sweetheart,” Choso mumbled deeply, shifting his gaze toward your pretty and flushed face. “If you keep saying my name like that, I might lose it.” he offered you a crooked smile, his sharp canine poking out. “Got a real pretty voice. It matches your pretty face.” his thumb grazed over your lower lip, admiring its beauty.

“Choso,” you breathed out, feeling so small under his lustful gaze. The way his thumb touched your bottom lip, the way his deep and sensual voice reverberated in your ears. Maybe it was the weed fixing your thoughts, but damn, was Choso sexy as all hell. “You’re pretty, too.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow, tilting your head with his thumb. Fuck, he loved your eyes. They were so big and beautiful, so expressive. “You think I’m pretty, sweetheart?” his hands trailed down to your hip, squeezing the denim fabric of your jeans. 

“Yeah, I do,” you smirked softly, climbing into his lap. You straddled his thighs and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, staring into his sunken eyes. “I think you’re pretty and sexy, Cho’.”

His arms snaked around your waist to pull you close to his chest; your breasts pushed up against his graphic tank top. “Shit, sweetheart. Keep saying my name like that, and you’ll regret it,” he growled, your plump lips hovering above his chapped ones. His hands squeezed your ass bolding, his eyes daring you to make the next move.

“Cho’,” you whispered, entangling your fingers in the silver chains around his thick neck. “Do something, Cho’.” 

“Fucking hell,” Choso slammed his lips against yours in a molten and desperate kiss, his hands squeezing the fat of your ass even harder. His kiss is filled with desire and want, along with the faintest scent of marijuana that makes the atmosphere of his bedroom that much more depraved. Longing dripped from the plush of his chapped lips to the sharpness of his canines that grazed slowly against your lips, teasing you with a tapering sensation. 

Choso tutted impatiently, his lips becoming more aggressive and desperate. It was like his mouth was trying to consume yours in a fiery passion you thought only existed in television shows. Your heated bodies pressed against each other in a frenzy, your hands moving from his chain necklace to lace themselves in his messy dark hair, tugging harshly on the strands. You could practically taste the marijuana on his breath, feeling the thud of his heartbeat in his throat.

Frantic groans left your lips as Choso’s tongue swept across your lower lip, pleading for entrance. You gladly parted your lips, his tongue briefly entangling with yours before retreating entirely. He broke the kiss, his breathing shallow and long. The thinnest string of saliva connected you, breaking as Choso licked his lips. 

The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, the tension in the air slowly fading away. Second felt like hours, passion roaring inside both of you. Choso gave you a smug grin, his hands still glued to your hips. “What did you think of that, sweetheart? Is making out while high one of the best things life has to offer or what?” his words faded at the end, his mouth pressing fluttering kisses onto your neck. Your breath stopped in your throat at the intoxicating sensation. 

“Please,” he whispered, teeth nipping down on the spot just above your collarbone. His voice was so deep yet whiny, filled with desire for you, the sexiest person he’d ever lay his eyes upon. “Please, sweetheart, let me make you see stars tonight.”

You frantically nodded, cupping his cheeks with your hands to crash your lips against his in a passionate craze. The kiss was rough and full of ache, your lips battling each other for dominance and control. Choso’s rough hands gripped onto your hips with knuckle-whitening might, dragging you up and down onto his throbbing bulge. His teeth bite down on your bottom lip, pulling the sensitive flesh while staring into your glistening eyes. He pulled himself away from the foggy exchange and attacked your neck, biting and sucking at every inch of skin he could land himself on. 

Your mouth let wanton moans escape your bruised lips, still grinding yourself on Choso’s lap. Desire pooled in your core, your body rutting itself against him for any kind of relief as he continued to assault your neck with a battery of bites and nibbles. “Fuck!” you cried out, not bothering to control your volume. “Fucking love it rough. How’d you know that?” you demanded, pulling Choso away from your neck by his midnight strands. 

“It was so fucking obvious, baby. You were basically begging me to fuck you with those pretty bedroom eyes of yours.” Choso growled in your ear, his pierced tongue licking the shell. He thrust his clothed erection up against your covered core, forcing you to grind down on the pulsating length. “You feel what you do to me, yeah? You feel how fucking hard this cock is for you?”

You gasped as he dragged you across his clothed member, noticing how fucking girthy he was. “Shit, you’re really fucking hard. I really did all that?” you whimpered as he groped your breasts, his thumb circling over your covered nipple. 

“Yeah, sweetheart, you did,” his voice ached for you, so desperate for release. He knew you felt this way, too. Your pussy was sending him pulsating signals. “God, I need to know how that pretty mouth looks wrapped around me. Can you get on your knees, sweetheart, pretty please?” he mumbled, taking his greedy hands off your curves.

You were on your knees instantly, thumbing the hem of Choso’s sweatpants teasingly. “Don’t fucking tease me, baby,” he spat, pulling his sweatpants down to his knees. You rolled down the fabric and tossed it aside, your eyes locking on his boxers that had a cute little stain right where the tip of his cock was. “See that, sweetheart? Making me pre’ in my drawers. C’mon, hurry up and put that pretty mouth on it.” he demanded, his hand tugging on your hair in demand. 

Your hands pulled down his boxers and tossed them aside, not tearing your eyes away from Choso’s massive cock. It was bigger than any of the ones you’d seen before, and it was freakishly girthy, maybe about ten inches. The head was a beautiful shade of pink, adorned with precum leaking out the tip. “Someone’s needy,” you teased in a lyrical voice, pumping his cock a few times before taking just the tip in your mouth. Your tongue danced around the head and gave it the occasional kitten lick, eliciting a gasping moan from Choso. 

A few more inches was all that your mouth could take, gagging as the head hit the back of your sensitive throat over and over again. Your hand made up for what your mouth couldn’t handle, palming and squeezing on the shaft to make Choso sing those pretty moans over and over again. His grip on your hair hadn’t yet faltered, squeezing your roots the perfect amount so you weren’t feeling any pain. Sloppy, absolutely filthy sounds came from your precious lips as your mouth grew sore and tired, practically fucking your mouth on his length.

Just as Choso’s orgasm approached, he forcefully pulled your head away from his cock. He hissed at the sensation of the cold bedroom air hitting his previous warm cock, wondering if he should just let you keep sucking him off. “N-no, wanna cum inside you. Is that okay, sweetheart?” he whined, spreading his legs. His cock was glistening with your saliva, slapped against his now-stained tank top. “Ride me, baby, want you to fucking ride me.”

You smirked softly and pulled down your jeans and underwear, revealing your soaked heat. “What happened to the tough guy earlier, hm?” you purred into his ear, nibbling on one of his piercings as you hovered above his entrance, his wanting moans and whimpers sounding incredibly delicious. 

“Tough guy went away the second you put that slutty little mouth on my cock,” he grabbed onto your hips, forcefully slamming you down on his cock. The two of you gasped at the same time, a twinge of pain crossing your face. “Now hurry up and fuck me already.” his voice sounded dominant, but you knew deep down how desperate he indeed was. The warmth of your weeping cunt enveloped him, and his lips began to tremble.

“Shit! Fuck, you’re huge!” you cried out, taking a moment for your pussy to adjust to his size. He was huge and throbbing so intensely inside of you that it felt like a vibrator. Shaking, you clutched onto his shoulders and began to grind back and forth. His hands were practically glued onto your soft hips, matching the painfully slow pace of your movements.

Choso grunted impatiently, tightening his grip on your hips so they would be bruised tomorrow morning. “Going too fucking slow, sweetheart. Can’t handle my huge dick or something?” he whispered against your neck, his tongue licking the hickeys he had left previously. His cock was buried inside your gummy walls, twitching and in desperate need of friction. 

You yelped out pathetically as Choso began to move your trembling form up and down on his length, adoring the squelching sounds that came out of your sobbing heat. Your breathing was quicked and paced, huffs and puffs leaving your pretty mouth. “H-hah, Cho’! Fuck, fuck me! Shit, oh my fucking god!” you sobbed, your walls tightening around his cock as he continued to use your body like a fleshlight. 

The sound of skin slapping against the skin was all that could be heard, along with the sound of your wanton mewls escaping your puffy lips. “Shit, you’re such a fucking good slut for me, yeah?” Choso grunted, his face buried in the crook of your neck that connected your shoulders. “Letting me use this perfect fucking pussy, why did I ever fucking doubt you?” he lifted his face from your neck, smirking at your fucked out expression. Your eyes glazed over, mouth hanging open, hair completely disheveled. Just how he fucking liked it.

The head of his cock pounded mercilessly at your G-spot, the slick whimpers and wines you made becoming music to his ears. He knew you were close the way your weeping heat sucked him in, almost demanding that he shoot his seed as far into you as he could. 

“Shit, are you close sweetheart. Me too, fuck,” he sighed, bucking his hips into yours staggeringly and without rhythm, desperately chasing his nirvana. “Cum with me, yeah? Please, baby, I wanna feel you let go for me. Can you do that for me, pretty girl? Can you make a fucking mess on this cock?”

“Yes, fuck, yes! Cho’, oh fuck!” you screamed as your orgasm finally hit you, entire euphoria flowing through every single one of your veins. Your nails scratched and clawed at his back from under his shirt, your hands desperately looking for purchase. Your aching body twitched against his own, his cock still fucking up into your overstimulated pussy.

Choso threw his head back, opening his mouth to allow his breathy moans to escape from his throat. “Fuck, gonna fucking cum, shit! Gonna cum inside, yeah? Gonna fucking fill you up so nicely, shit! Fuck!” he groaned, finally achieving his high. Wave after wave of pleasure crashed over him as his hot and sticky ropes of cum coated your insides, the feeling of warmth making you feel all the more wonderful.

After the shockwaves of your orgasms subsided, Choso tilted his head back down to look at your face. All flushed and fucked out, the baby hairs in your widows peak sticking to your forehead. But his favorite part was the smile you had plastered across your face, looking the happiest he’d ever seen anyone before. 

“You were so right,” you breathed, kissing his lips tenderly.”Fucking while high is one of the best things ever.”

He chuckled and reluctantly pulled you off his cock, whining as he saw his seed spill from your core. “Damn, I really thought that would stick. Oh well,” he sighed, pushing himself off his bed in search of his boxers. “There’s always next time.”

You raised an eyebrow quizically, putting on your panties. Your sweatpants were probably in the room, but you were too tired to get them. “What do you mean ‘next time’?” 

Choso smirked and sat back down on his bed, making grabby hands at you. “Y’know, the next time we fuck, obviously.” he kissed your cheek as you curled up beside him, pulling the covers over the both of you for warmth. “Do…do you not want a second time?” his voice was soft, trying to mask the hint of disappointment in his tone.

You shook your head and pecked him on the lips, giggling at the cool metal piercing, making contact with the bruise on your lower lip. “Of course I want there to be a next time, silly. You’re the best fuck I’ve ever had.” 

He smiled and pulled you even closer to his muscular form, squeezing you like you would run away if he didn’t. “I’m so glad that’s happening, sweetheart.” his voice was heavy and sleepy, wanting nothing more than to fall asleep right next to you.

“Let’s just get some sleep, okay? Fucking takes up a lot of energy.” Closing your eyes, you welcomed the warmth that overtook your body, Choso’s strong arms wrapped firmly around your waist.

There was a sudden knock on the door, snapping your eyes open and Choso’s violet ones. 

“Choso, can I please get some water? I’m really thirsty.” a high-pitched voice came from the other side of Yuji's wooden door.

Choso groaned and sat up, his arms still not leaving your body. “Well, we’re lucky he didn’t want water ten minutes ago.” he laughed softly, kissing you on the forehead as he got up.

“Yeah, good thing he didn’t.”

[hotpinkstars]

Can I request a aventurine x reader where the reader is an emotional person. Very expressive but not really much in words. (Trust issues showing 😃)

EMOTIONAL - aventurine x reader

- in which you are a very emotional person, but you don't express your feelings with words.

- hiii anonnnn! i'm sorry if i get this wrong lollll i tried to make it in the way i interpreted it but if u want me to change it then i will 💖 anyways i hope you enjoy!

- crying and breaking down is rlly all there is to warn here lolll.... soft aventurine I love soft aventurine wc 535

At first, Aventurine probably didn’t really realize what was wrong until it hit him that you’ve never really verbally expressed your feelings to him before.

He’s seen you cry, fidget with your hands, his own hands, a keychain on your purse, but he’s never actually heard you verbalize your emotions.

So, he’s gotten used to letting you cry into his shoulder whenever you have a random little outburst. He doesn’t know why, and he knows you have a really hard time stressing your worries to him, so he sits there and lets you do your thing.

He’s learned to give you his hands to hold and toy with whenever you need to calm down as well. He shows you his little coin tricks to keep you occupied sometimes, knowing that it helps to ground you and make you calm down.

When it comes down to sudden bursts of happiness, it always makes Aventurines heart bloom. He enjoys seeing you happy, even if he doesn’t necessarily understand why you’re happy (you usually tell him little things about why you’re happy. It’s not as hard when it comes down to that!) 

When you’re angry, he lets you have your moment. He might argue back if you’re yelling at him though, because he didn’t even do anything! But he’ll leave it alone if you start to back down, because he believes there is not really any sense in fighting.

For example, there was one time he was preparing dinner, due to your request. You didn’t feel too much like doing it tonight, and he got off of work really early. All of the sudden, he hears tiny sniffles from out of nowhere. You were in the middle of watching a tv show, but it wasn’t even all that sad. He turned around when he heard it, and halted his movements for a few seconds.

He heard it again, and continued to chop the cucumber for the salad you two were going to have that night. He hollered over to you in the middle of his movements.

“Hey, y/n, you alright?” He asks, not looking back. He could sense your eyes on his back, likely filled to the brim with tears waiting to spill. 

You sigh and then start crying. He finishes what he’s doing and then walks over to you, putting a hand on the small of your back, proceeding in his movements to rub up and down while you cry into the top of the couch. 

He eventually decides it would be best to sit down next to you, carefully trying to pull your arms away from your face and bring you into his chest. When he’s successful, he leans against a pillow on the armrest of the couch and start kissing your temples, moving down to your chin, and then laying soft kisses on your neck. You eventually calm down, and dinner has been long forgotten.

You rest in his arms, his head perched on top of yours. You’re so comfortable, but you feel like you want to apologize and run, but you didn’t. You knew he didn’t mind these tiny outbursts, and that was the huge reason why you love him so much <3

[reverieblondie]

Romanced BG3 companions of your choice each reacting to Tav crossing paths with an ex - the ex had cheated on Tav and didn't take kindly to them breaking off the relationship immediately after discovering this. This ex also takes umbrage with the fact that Tav has moved on to a different relationship and starts accosting them.

This was a super fun prompt, and I hope you enjoyed what I did with it. It was just going to be headcanons, but I thought little drabbles would be better! Let me know what you think! 

Warnings- slight violence but mostly fluff!

Astarion:

 It was a usual date for Tav and Astarion, a pleasant late-night stroll through the city. Astarions hand on the small of Tav’s back as they walk together, taking in the candle-lit streets. It had been a recent hobby as of late for the couple to partake in people-watching; Tav had to admit Astarions snide remarks about the lost drunks stumbling out of the bars did tend to be quite funny. Though Tav would always remind him,

“We are heroes of the city star; we shouldn’t be so judgy.” 

Astarion playfully tsk his lips before leaning in to whisper in Tav’s ear, playing softly with their hair, sending a playful shiver down their spine. 

“Don’t pretend to be all high and mighty, darling. You laughed at that one fool the other day…that was very naughty of you.” 

Tav’s heart starts to race; Astarions teasing always does this. Astarion sees a particularly sloppy drunk stumbling from a tavern as they continue to tease and walk back home. 

“Oh, get a look at this one…” Astarion whispers. As Tav turns to take a look, Astarion watches as their smile quickly falls to something of a panic. Tav quickly grabs Astarion’s hand. Something is wrong, and Astarion is now on high alert. The drunk looks up, squinting their eyes at them, and finally, through their drunken haze, it clicks who they are seeing. 

“Well, lookie what we have here…Tav, with some pretty boy nonetheless. Some advice: They’re a real stiff. You could probably find a better lay somewhere else…I know I did…” Tav clenches Astarion’s hand tighter; the words cut deep. 

“Star…can we please go home…”

 Astarion holds Tav’s hand tightly. “Of course, darling…” 

Astarion and Tav quickly head home as the drunk yells at them, bellowing their nasty hate on Tav. Once home in a safe space, Tav opens up to Astarion about their ex, and Astarion just calmly listens, holding them closely, telling them that they won’t hurt Tav anymore; no one will ever hurt them with him around. With Tav resting peacefully, Astarion decides to go out one last time…A particular drunk needs to be taught that nobody ever upsets his darling with him around…Tav need not worry about running into that Ex again… 

Rolan:

Only sometimes did Rolan get distracted at work, but since Tav had started working with him in Sundries wanting to ‘Help out’ and ‘Spend more time with their Rolan,’ he can’t help but get distracted more often. Rolan finds his glowing eyes raking over Tav as they work so diligently. Tav would frequently catch Rolan in these states of distraction, usually opting to smile and wave at him or even sometimes kiss Rolan. Rolan loves having Tav so close and getting to work with them so closely; it makes the stress of being an archmage fade away. 

Rolan is working behind Tav as they operate the counter, trying so hard not to fall into a mess of giggles as Rolan runs his tail up and down Tav’s legs in a teasing gesture. The shop is slow, and in a moment of weakness, Rolan wraps his arms around Tav’s middle and starts playfully kissing along their neck, making Tav giggle and fidget around, protesting about upsetting customers and Rolan insisting that he doesn’t care. 

Amid their joy, they didn’t notice the new customer who had walked up to the happy couple. “Tav, tsk tsk, this is very unsightly customer service…” 

Tav’s smile drops as they open their eyes to face their ex face-to-face. Letting his instincts take over, Rolan immediately gets defensive and gets in front of Tav and this rude person. 

“Can I help you with something?” Rolan’s voice dripped in disdain. 

“I’m just coming to check if the rumors are true: Tav shacking up with the new archmage…. It seems they are true.” 

Tav quickly argues, “It’s one, not like that, and two, none of your business!”

“I think it is my business when my ex is going about acting like a damn slu-”

Before they can even finish the insult, Tav watches as their ex suddenly goes flying out of the shop. A surprisingly calm Rolan walks after them, his hand still sparking with magic. 

Rolan looks down at the pathetic lump of a person lying out in front of the shop. “I suggest you don’t return to this establishment again…and if I hear you speak ill of Tav, I will make it where you never speak again… Now get away from my shop.” 

With a snap, Rolan slams the doors shut and quickly goes to Tav, grabbing their hand and leading them upstairs. Tav asks what he is doing and who will watch the shop, but they see that Rolan’s hologram is now at the desk. Rolan smiles back to Tav, taking a moment to kiss their hand, 

“Let’s take the day, just for ourselves…” 

Rolan knows how to shower Tav with care and love…His hands didn’t leave Tav for the rest of the night…

Wyll:

The tavern was an uproar of cheering and laughter, but Tav didn’t notice the noises or anyone else as they swayed in Wyll’s arms. Of course, Wyll dragged Tav to the dance floor as soon as they entered the bar. The dances had started quickly, with jumps and claps, and people turned about in blind merriment. 

But now the music is slower, allowing them to hold each other tightly and ignore the rest of the tavern. Wyll often had this effect on Tav; when in his embrace, things would instantly be more peaceful. However, the sudden drying in Tav’s throat makes them painstakingly separate from Wyll. 

“I’m going to get a drink. Do you want anything?” 

Wyll spins Tav and places a quick kiss on Tav’s hand, “Just for you to hurry back, love.” 

Tav boops Wylls nose. “Flirt.” they tease, wholly lost in their affection for him. 

Tav quickly makes their way to the bar, chugging their drink down to return to their dance partner. But as Tav pushes through the crowd, they freeze at the sight. 

Tav’s terrible ex is talking to Wyll, and from the look on Wyll’s face, he is not happy. Tav tries to get there quickly to save Wyll. Then they see their ex push Wyll—oh hells No! 

Tav is ready to bounce when they suddenly watch Wyll punch their ex, laying him out instantly. Tav’s jaw is on the floor as they stand over the pathetic person. 

Tav looks at Wyll’s unapologetic face, “What..” 

“They were saying rude things about you. Honestly, you dated this trash? I am so sorry you went through that, darling.” 

Tav’s smile is vast as they hug Wyll tightly, “My hero, how could I ever repay you?” 

Wylls smile widens, “I have a few ideas…If you are willing…” 

“Oh, I am…” 

Wyll leads Tav over their knocked cold ex out of the tavern and back home, where Tav spends the whole night thanking their hero…

Gale:

Morning Markets is not exactly Tav’s favorite way to spend time with Gale, but anytime they get to be with him is a plus, and watching that wizard try and fumble his way through haggling was funny. After Gale had failed to haggle a deal for some fresh fish, Tav just grabbed him and kissed his cheek tenderly. 

“Yeah, not everyone haggles for magical items, but maybe you will get a good deal one day.” Gale huffs as he holds Tav closer, slowly lowering his hands to grip Tav’s hips. A look of mischief fills his eyes as he buries his head into Tav’s neck, stealing a quick smell before whispering in their ear, 

“One more stop, and then we are heading home. I’m getting impatient…” 

How he whispered the last part excitedly made Tav’s skin shiver in anticipation. 

Entering the shop, Gale leaves Tav to wait for him by the door. “I will be there for just a quick moment,” he promises. 

As Tav stands there as patiently as possible, someone calls their name, turning Tav’s previous smile, which is furrowing into a scowl, looking at their ex. Tav raises their arms to fold over their chest, quickly scanning the room for Gale, but he is busy now. They will have to face this annoyance on their own. 

“I heard you were back in the city; we should get a drink for old time’s sake. Hm, what do you say?” 

“Not interested…” Tav spits out. 

“Oh, come on, it’s the least you could do for dumping me like that.” 

Tav’s eyes go wild, “Excuse me? You cheated, remember! And I want nothing to do with you!” 

“One little slip you can’t let go. Always so dramatic…” 

Tav is about to lose it until a familiar warmth on their shoulder calms them. Turning, Tav’s eyes met Gales’s smiling face. 

“Ready to go?” 

Tavs ex tsk, “Hey, we were talking here.” 

Gale’s face goes stren when looking at the stranger, “Well, now the conversation is over.” 

Without hesitation, Gale gently leads Tav out of the shop and back home. “Sorry I didn’t get to your side sooner, my dear. Are you okay? Did they upset you?” 

Tav leans into Gale as they walk together, saying, “I am much better with you by my side. Thank you.” 

Lae’zel:

Tav and Lae’zel were taking a pleasant stroll in the park. Lae’zel didn’t exactly care for the atmosphere, but they knew Tav enjoyed it, so they followed, letting Tav talk to her endlessly about their time in the city and teaching Lae’zel about new things. Lae’zel couldn’t help but smile at Tav as they rambled on. 

Usually, so much talking bothers her, but with Tav, their sounds were pleasant, soothing…

As Tav is walking, they are unaware of the person quietly approaching them from behind until suddenly they feel a push to their shoulder, breaking them from their conversion with Lae’zel. 

“Tav! I-” -SMACK!-

In the blink of an eye, Tav watches their ex receive a swift nose-breaking punch to the face. 

“Do not address my mate so casually!” I shall have your hand!” Tav slings Lae’zel over their shoulder, running away from the crime scene. 

Lae’zel isn’t exactly sure why she is receiving so much affection from Tav, but she isn’t complaining about it…Maybe she should punch people more often…

After Lae’zel punches a random man trying to sell Tav fish, they explain what happened to Lae’zel. Tav has to spend the rest of the day keeping Lae’zel’s sword away from her so she doesn’t behead their ex… Lae’zel cares for Tav very, very profoundly…