#my finger is on the delete button ready to push

[haleswallows]

I will not ask where you came from (Deleted Scene)

A deleted scene for "I will not ask where you came from", my fic for Dead on May-n week. Inspired by @roanawayspoons in the HH server, where they linked this and said it's perfect for puppy!Jason.

CW: NSFW, anal sex, fingering, light pet play

Jason is excited to reveal his new helmet. He's spent a lot of time designing it, ready for a refreshing new look. It's just... a coincidence. The dog-like features. Siren lives rent free in his mind, ok? It wasn't on purpose. Jason is not responsible for his subconscious.

Siren raises an eyebrow, bright red lips pressed to disguise their smirk when Jason first shows them. Lounged on his couch, their dressing gown falls open slightly to reveal toned legs. "Oh, puppy," they demure. "You spoil me. You're so pretty with your new helmet." He can't help but preen under their praise. When they command him to his knees, he goes without single hesitation and kneels at their side. The finger under his chin has his eyes fluttering closed, and Jason obligingly tilts his head back.

“Is this way your way of making sure everyone knows?” The finger traces a line along the seam where flesh meets metal, the slightest scratch of a long nail. “You like being my puppy this much?”

Jason knows the rules. He's a good boy. “Yes.” The new voice modulator grinds the word into a rough growl. Siren does smirk then, grazing a finger over the molded fangs.

“This is very nice, perfect for my puppy.” They playfully tap the subtle snout. “Well, come on then, strip. Show me the helmet without all these distractions.”

Siren likes to tease but not be teased. He does make a show of stripping, muscles flexing and stretching. But it always goes quickly. They reel him in by the buckle while he shucks off the vest, then gloves. “Let me help. You have so many layers.”

While his arms are tangled in this shirt, Siren undoes the belt, then button, then zipper. Without pushing the pants down, Siren slides their hand between compression shorts and the outer armored layer.

“No cup? Oh puppy, did you prepare for me?” They press a finger against the rapidly hardening underside of his cock, balls drawing up with his gasp. “Am I going to find another treat?”

Jason struggles to find words. Even after months and months of this game, Siren's rules, Jason's still so responsive, left gasping. 

“Puppy?” Siren gently prompts, beginning to withdraw.

It takes a few gulps of air to get there. Jason chokes out “One more surprise.”

His efforts earn a reward. Siren wraps a hand around his dick through the soft fabric. They squeeze slightly on an upstroke, teasing the head. “Good boy. You're so good for me, and just me. Wanna show me?”

The praise makes Jason flush, reddening from chest and up his neck. His face feels warm in the helmet. “Yes,” he repeats.

Sadly it means Siren releases his cock, allowing him to toe out of the steel toed boots, unbuckle hostlers, and shove the pants down. Jason’s embarrassed for a second before the compression shorts join the mess of clothes on the floor. All it takes is a half lidded look from Siren, their eyes hungrily tracing from chest to toe, flicking back up to the helmet.

They swirl a finger lazily. Jason obeys, pausing just a moment when his back is turned. “Oh,” Siren breathes out. “Come here.”

He kneels again. Siren cups the cheek of the helmet in their hand and encourages him to prop his arms onto the couch cushion. Instinctually, Jason leans into it, missing the feel of their palm a little bit.

Siren finally sits up from their relaxed lounge, legs bracketing him. Jason's practically in their lap and fully hard now. Their other hand skates up his arm, drawing patterns into his bicep with a nail. He flexes his arms without thinking, Siren giggling. 

“That looks new. Were you excited to buy it? Couldn't wait to show me?” Siren pulls him to sit up straighter, pinches a nipple. With a gasp, Jason arches his back, sits as pretty as he can.

“Yes.” Jason was excited. Is excited, the press of the plug a little bigger than his usual preferred toy. It had taken a little effort to get it in, Jason had nearly come while fingering himself open, thoughts of Siren forefront.

“So cute,” they coo, pressing a kiss to the temple of the helmet. “It matches your helmet. You look so good in red, puppy. Now the question is do you want the toy, or me?” 

Jason shorts out for a moment. He trembles as Siren distracts him with wandering hands. As he opens his mouth, Siren pressed a kiss to his neck, scrapes teeth over the skin. Jason gasps, words flying from his head. Groans when Siren bites harder.

“Words, pretty boy.” A grin pressed into his neck, a hand reaching down his back, a barely there brush of a finger at the base of his tailbone.

He pants. Half crazy from the plug and the constant stimulation. Jason needs to be touched. “You.” His voice is strangled.

“Well, get up here. I'm not getting on the floor.”

Jason slowly crawls up, Siren directing him to lean over the armrest. He feels exposed, hemlet pressed into the fabric, arms curled under his chest. It puts him ass up, cock heavy and hanging between his thighs.

“Just look at you. Beautiful.” Siren admires, pressing a kiss to the small of his back. Jason squirms, pleased with himself and relishing the praise. Then nearly jumps out his skin when Siren suddenly grabs his balls. 

He can barely concentrate on what Siren says, focused entirely on the hand slowly kneading the sack. “I'm going to fuck you, your hands stay right there. No touching yourself, I want you to come on just my dick, Jason. Do you understand? Will you be good?”

“Yes.” He can be good. He can be so good. Something breaks in his brain a little bit, overwhelmed with the promise of being fucked, the promise of more than teasing touches. “Yes, I understand. Please, I'll be good, I'll be good. Please, Siren.”

Siren drapes over his back. A kiss to the nape of his neck gentle and soothing. “Please, what?” A finger presses on the plug, pushing the flare against the stretched rim. He pants.

“Fuck me, fuck me, please. Siren, I want your cock. Want to come for you, want to be a good boy.” The begging erupts from him, Jason wrapped up in the press of Siren's silken dressing gown all along his back, the way their legs frame his.

“Relax for me,” Siren commands, biting the juncture between neck and shoulder. Jason melts into the sharpness of the feeling, breaking through his general fog of need and arousal.

The plug slides out. For a moment, Jason is stretched too wide, too much. Then suddenly he's empty, bereft, clenching on nothing. “Oh, honey.”

A single finger slips easily in, hole still wet with the smear of lube from fingering himself. Jason's hands twitch. He clenches them, and shoves them under his chin. 

A second finger joins the first. Siren hums, slowly scissoring them. They're always so gentle with Jason, so careful as they open him up. “We need a little more lube, sweetheart.”

“Ah,” Jason twitches. It's a few heartbeats before his brain produces a coherent thought. “Pants pocket.” 

They laugh. “Of course. My clever puppy, always thinking ahead.” But it means they remove their fingers to lean for the pants, rooting around in the pockets. When Jason shivers at the loss, Siren runs a hand up his flank, presses a thumb to his hole. “Patience. Don't wanna hurt you, baby boy. You're being so good, I'm going to take care of you. You know what you get when you're good?”

Jason nods into the armrest, eyes squeezed shut. Siren removes their hand. They lightly swat his ass. “Words, puppy.”

“I get rewards.” He twists his head, getting Siren into his peripheral. Their smile is sweet, eyes crinkling with it. 

The reward is Siren pushing two lube slicked fingers into his ass. Jason groans long and shamelessly. After a few moments, Siren easily adds a third finger.

They mouth lines of kisses across the broad span of his shoulders. Fingers pump slowly in and out of his hole, a maddening pace only barely enough to keep him hard. The pads of Siren's fingers just graze his prostate every few strokes. 

Jason is melting. He's burning and panting and fighting every instinct to grip his cock. If he doesn't get more, he's going to scream. Or cry. A chant starts pouring out of him. “Siren, please. I'm ready, I want you, more, please. I… it feels so good, please, please can I…?”

Siren surges forward, pressing their weight all along his back. Their dick slots behind his balls. “Yeah? You want me to fuck you? You asked so nicely, it’d be mean of me to make you wait more.”

They gently remove their fingers. There's the sound of the lube opening again and Jason takes the opportunity to catch his breath. He uncurls his arms, bracing hands on the armrest. 

Then groans again at the stretch of Siren's dick pushing into him. It's slow but delicious. in all the right ways. Jason sets his hips against the push, allowing Siren to rest against him. Siren breathes out a long satisfied sigh against the top of his spine when they finally fully seat inside him. A heartbeat of stillness, Siren caresses his sides in an upward sweep. They pause to grope his pecs before slotting their hands together.

“You have no clue how good you feel, puppy.” Siren presses a kiss to the nape of his neck. With a long slow withdrawal, Jason squeezes their hands. He knows what’s next. He’s been a good boy. They pull out until the ridge of their cock head pulls at the rim. The thrust is hard, driving Jason’s breath out.

Siren’s pace is cruel. Each thrust hard, but just shy of fast enough. Jason writhes under it. He hangs his head, lifts it again, clenches his hands and thighs in turn, arching his back. All the while, his cock and balls ache. Jason needs more, certain a single touch would put him over the edge but Siren keeps a hold of his hands. The sound of their fucking is obscene, and if Jason had even an of sanity to spare, he’d be a ashamed of the continual whine and gasps and mewls he’s making.

It’s obvious when Siren starts to get close. They release Jason’s hands to pull his hips closer, encouraging him to sit up. Impossibly it drives their cock deeper. Siren noses against his neck. “Beautiful and you don’t even realize, god you feel so good. You don’t know what you do to me, puppy. It’s like you were made for me. Can you come without me touching you today?” Every word brings heat to Jason’s chest, he shudders.

And they wrap a hand around the base of his neck, the barest hint of pressure against his throat. Jason comes, losing his voice as pleasure rips through him. Siren keeps up the brutal pace, fucking him through his orgasm.

“Good boy. You’re so good for me, you’re perfect. Stay just like that, puppy.” Strong arms keep him upright, the thrust not stuttering. Jason gets lost in it – the haze of endorphins and praise. Beyond all reason, Jason gets hard again. “Look at you. Filthy, you like it that much? Oh puppy, are you going to come again for me? Can you?”

Siren presses him into the couch, bending him forward until the helmet meets cushion. Jason’s hips tilt and then he’s seeing stars with each thrust. He scrabbles against the fabric, trying to gain purchase to push back. “Right there, huh. You’ve been marvelous. I’m so close, puppy.”

They pant against his shoulder. “Come. Come, Jason.” The command is paired with a hand on his cock, stroking in time with the thrusts. “You can do it, puppy. Beautiful boy.” 

It isn’t Jason’s first dry orgasm. It definitely won’t be his last. Still it shocks Jason, amazed by the way it rocks through him and makes his toes curl. He clenches and finally Siren’s hips stutter. Warmth of a different sort fills him, and Jason swears his dick twitches as if inspired to try for a third.

Time gets a little fizzy for Jason as he focuses on catching his breath, only gasping once Siren pulls out. Sensation slowly returns to his numb limbs. “Careful, honey bee. There you go,” Siren coos gently, guiding Jason to lay on his side. “There’s a wet spot there. We made a mess, huh. You stay put.”

Vaguely, he hears the padding of feet. He concentrates on wiggling his fingers and then toes. “You want this off? Oh babe, you must be boiling in there.” Jason obligingly rolls his head so Siren can access the release on the back. The rush of cool air is a relief, he barely noticed how warm he was. 

Jason hums, cracking an eye open when Siren begins combing fingers through his sweaty hair. “You poor thing, you’re drenched. Wanna get showered?” Absolutely not. The thought of getting up just then is abhorrent, so Jason shakes his head. “No words right now? That’s ok, puppy. Let me get you a little cleaned up and a towel down. Will you have some water for me?”

The washcloth is warm on his skin. When Siren finishes, they press a kiss to his hip bone. He sits up just long enough to drain most of a glass of water. Flopping onto his back, Jason sprawls across the couch.

“Scooch, how am I supposed to cuddle you if there’s no room?” Jason squints at them, but doesn't move. “It's like you think this will stop me.”

They clamber onto him, slotting themselves between his legs to fold arms over his chest. “It's like you think this wasn't my plan,” Jason comments. As Siren settles, he loops his arms around their back.

There's blissful silence for about three seconds. Siren wiggles. “Hey, you ever thought about soaking? Cock warming?”

Jason groans, and not in pleasure. No, he hasn't. But now he is… and, huh. That's new. He considers it, finds he might like that.

“You'd be so cute stuffed with my cock for hours. We could get a mirror for the bedroom, make it so you can see. Your asshole is amazing. You'd be a great cock warmer.” 

When Jason doesn't answer, Siren pauses. “We don't have to. You know my rules, no means –.”

“No, I know. I'm not saying no. Just… give me a few days?” Siren smothers a smile.

“Of course. We can make a whole thing of it. Let me spoil you. Buy us dinner, get some sweet treats, something nice for a bath after. Yeah? Sound good?” They beam at him, and Jason is hopeless.

“You've ruined me.” It makes them laugh, bright and happy. “How are you always like this? You have too much energy.”

They hum, kiss his pec. “Can't help it. Hey, you patrolling tonight?”

Maybe if he could feel his legs. “Nah, I'll do gear and weapons maintenance.”

“Good, you deserve the rest. Want me to grab something to eat when I'm done?” They idly trace a scar on his bicep. “I can even get you some of those disgusting chili dogs.”

“Disgusting, they say. As if you didn't text me last week to beg for four of them.”

They flap hands vaguely in his face, shooing away the teasing remark. “Wait! If I do a seance for Nana Franny again, do you think she’ll make me more birria?”

Jason catches their hands, smoothes a thumb over the bare nails. “Nah, she called yesterday. Her oven is acting up. I’ll go fix it and then we’ll be birria rich.” Siren gasps.

“It’s fate! Hey, wanna pick a couple colors for my nails? You have a good eye. Don’t just pick reds though, puppy.” A phone, lodged somewhere in the couch, starts ringing. Siren surges up for a kiss, digging it from between the armrest and cushion at the same time. “And now I have to start getting ready.”

When Jason bench presses by their hips, Siren makes an appreciative ‘ooh’. Mostly Jason does it to avoid their flailing limbs, and inevitable elbow to the solar plexus he always gets when Siren scrambles off his chest.

“You stay put, puppy. Rest. Drink lots of water.” They pat his chest, then trot down the hall. “Wait, have you ever thought about shibari?”

“Stop it!”

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Own The Pitch -P.G

Dear anon, I had a little trouble whilst writing, I had the "Publish" thing on and not the "Save draft" thing. So when I went to look for a Pablo pic, I pressed the button to "save" my work and it published 😭☠️ I had to delete it!🥴😭 I hope you see this and tell me what you think of the fic😊 I couldn't help but associate this request with Gender Reveal's world.

ALSO KNOWN AS GENDER REVEAL (5)!

Summary: It's time for Helena to own the pitch

You smiled watching your fourth year old daughter, Helena, run around the whole pitch with her father behind her as she tried to "escape" his ticklish hands, her laughter echoing the Camp Nou stadium as the guys celebrated another El Clásico win 5-1.

"Helena María, watch out, hija" You said watching how she stumbled a little not really paying attention to it but keeping on playing with her dad.

"She's crazy for Pablo"

"And she's also crazy for her uncle Pepi" Pedro laughed nodding

"How's baby?" You smile remembering the get together of three weeks ago

"Great! It's really good, other than a few morning sickness, constant cravings and several mood swings, we're incredible" You smiled discretly putting your hand on top of your non-visible stomach

Baby two was 15 weeks old, your tummy wasn't visible, barely starting to appear and it could be appreciated when you were on bra and panties, something that only Pablo got to see being honest and not always in a sexy way.

"What do you think it'll be?"

"A little angry bird has told me that he, along with all of the team, wants it to be a boy" He laughs "And I would like to be a boy too" You smile taking your hand off your stomach "But I won't mind either if it's a girl"

"As long as it's healthy" You nod smiling

"That's the most important thing"

"Mami, I can kick just like papi!" Helena said coming over to you both, high fiving Pedri and kissing his cheek, before grabbing your hand "Wanna see it?"

You wink to Pedri as he smiled ruffling your hair lightly, and you picked Helena up making your way towards where Pablo was playing with the ball

"Next female football player I heard?" He stopped playing looking at you both with a smile on his face

"Amor, you shouldn't-"

"Let me enjoy it while I can" You cut him off talking about lifting Helena up, he raised his hands lightly

"Papá, vamos a enseñarle a mamá mi tiro" She got out of your hold taking the ball from his dad's feet

"Ready, ladybug?" She nods and kicks the ball a little to hard because it goes straight to Pablo's face but he dodged it easily "Maybe try to not hit it that much, Lena" You laughed at his face

She did several times that shot until Ter Stegen came with a smile

"Nice shot, Lena. Think you can do a goal with me in front?" She looks at her dad

"Can I?" Pablo nods smiling

"It's the same like you play with me at home, ladybug. You think you can score against Ter Stegen?" She looks at you

"It's what you and daddy do all the time, bonita" You say smiling at her and then she nodded

"I think I can" She mumbles playing with her fingers while looking at Ter Stegen

"You think?" She furrowed her eyebrows not sensing the playfulness in Marc's words

"I know I can"

"Then let's do this" He clapped his gloved hands and winked at you both.

"Mami, can you tie my hair, please?" She asked after pushing it back several times only for it to end up on her face again. Pablo and you raised your eyebrows at each other surprised.

"She's tying her hair" You said laughing

"She got that from you" He said as you blushed, whenever you got competitive you pulled your hair up in a bun or ponytail.

"THE MISSY IS TYING HER HAIR UP!" One of the guys yelled "THIS IS GETTING SERIOUS!" You looked over and saw Alejandro Balde, being the owner of the attraction of the lads. Pablo joined and started talking to Helena on how to do shoot the ball into the net besides teaching her how to several times.

He spoke it the little girl's ear acting as if they were playing a real match, with the tapping their mouths with their hands and everything.

The guys were forming a circle and they were still a few of the fans recording the moment.

"Whenever you're ready, ladybug" Pablo said stepping backwards to be next to you, hugging you by the waist as you wrapped yourself against him watching your daughter prepare to shot.

She looked behind you and you both did thumbs up, she smiled and ran to kick the ball.

You knew that little girl had power in her legs whenever she kicked while being inside of you.

The ball flew flying hard at first but then it lost force, meaning Ter Stegen could easily stop her ball. But he didn't.

Instead, he throw himself a bit later, acting as he didn't know where it could go and preparing himself for it, to the floor letting the ball pass underneath his body by centimeters. The ball hit the back of the net and instantly roars were heard in the whole stadium. You and Pablo ran towards your babygirl, congratulating her as the guys cheered and hugged you three

"Helena owns the pitch!" Ansu had yell being followed by Robert, Pedri, Alejandro, Eric, Ferran, Torre, Raphinha and soon everyone was chanting it

"Looks like we've got a potential football player in our lives" Pablo said as you smiled nodding watching Helena in Ter Stegen's shoulders

"I never doubted her kicking skills" Pablo laughed knowing what you meant

"Hopefully this one isn't that hard on you"

"Are you kidding? I've got the feeling if it's a boy it'll be worse than ever" Pablo laughs hard once more shaking his head you felt him kiss your cheek

"I can't wait for Baby to be here with us" Pablo murmured as you hummed leaning into him "I can't wait for this to happen over and over again"

Your eyes locked with Helena's, her happy smile instantly making you smile and heart swell in happiness. You loved your family.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviypedrisbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld

[seancekitsch]

I NEED to see them trying to film that video

im putting this under a cut bc its just smut lol but here it is the long awaited deleted scene between the finale and the little epilogue for Wow, I Can Get Sexual, Too

hehehe

“Shit shit shit,” Adrian swears, quick and panicked, “I think it’s falling.”

The phone itself is indeed falling, slowly sliding down the window sill because the window latch is not a good enough stand for the phone. Adrian’s never had to figure this out. He’s always just held it in one hand while he went to town with the other. He scrambles to put it back to its original position, but it’s no use. Adrian sits back on his heels for a moment, and you get to stare at the way the muscles of his thighs go rigid under the skin. Fuck, you really have the hottest boyfriend in Evergreen. 

It’s as if you can see the lightbulb above his head, the way he perks up at the idea he gets, and without telling you rushes to his bookshelf to grab a few things (and give you a nice view of his ass), before landing himself back on the bed with a bounce. 

“Is that going to work?” you ask, as Adrian plays a balancing act of setting up books and things to lean the phone on on the nightstand instead. The selfie camera is on, and you can see both of you in it despite all of his shifting around. 

He has you on your back, knees up and ready to fall apart for him. Your boyfriend, as of forty minutes ago, looms over you ready to strike. 

You like the look of this, you like being able to see yourselves. This feels more intimate than last night in the mirror. Maybe because Adrian is yours now, maybe it’s the way he kissed you so sweetly this morning and clung to you like a life raft that now even filming yourselves fucking for twitter feels sweet and romantic. 

“Are you ready, babe?” he asks, putting his glasses down behind his makeshift tripod. 

You nod.

“I need to hear it before we start recording babe,” he reminds you gently. You discussed this all ten minutes ago; that you could stop at any time, that if you changed your mind he wouldn’t post it, that your faces would not be visible. His fingers trail down your stomach, only stopping to brush against your clit. 

“I’m ready to make all those girls on Twitter jealous, Adrian,” you smile as you say it, joking around.

“Don’t forget my coworker!” Adrian supplies.

“Yeah, her too,” you roll your eyes at your boyfriend. For not understanding many jokes, he sure does know how to tease you for your misplaced jealousy towards that girl that’s probably just trying to make friends. His lips bloom into that wide toothy grin you love so much and he presses the big red button at the bottom of the phone. 

His big hands trail up your shins, stopping at your knees to part them and let himself move between them. He bends over you to kiss you on the mouth like a man starved, no, a man dying without your lips. He consumes you and pulls moans from your mouth you’ve never even heard before.  

His warm hands drag along your sides, leaving delicious burn in their strong wake, before finding purchase on your hips. 

“God, you’re amazing,” he breathes, barely breaking the kiss, instead speaking against your lips. You can only nod against him, despite zero foreplay and barely any lead up, you can feel you skin on fire and your need for him in overdrive. It’s what you’ve referred to as the “Adrian Effect”: Adrian, since you discovered his Twitter, has had you hot and bothered and wired from even the friendliest of touches.  Now, with him above you, you can’t help but give yourself over to it. 

“Take me,” you beg, huskier than normal; halfway because of how breathless he left you last night, halfway because you’re actively trying to make yourself sound huskier to avoid being recognized on camera. 

He obeys.

Adrian presses his full weight against you, torso to torso. His hands fumble at your thighs, pulling and pushing until he can get your legs around his hips, so you can lock your ankles around him and keep him close. You’re not sure how interesting this will be for his followers, but you love the heat from his skin radiating into you. He leans up slightly, only to cup your chest in his hands as he thrusts needlily against you. It’s hardly been five hours since he was last inside you and still Adrian is desperate to be back inside you. You arch into his touch, keening at his groping, just as needy for him too. Fuck, how quickly time moves. This time yesterday you had your hand between your legs dreaming of this exact situation and now here you are practically making it public to thousands. 

Your lips chase his, keeping him kissing you while he quietly moans into your mouth, unable to keep his cool while he touches you. Your hands trail down his chest, stopping to play with the light gathering of chest hair between his pectorals before moving down. He hisses against your lips as your hand travels farther to wrap around the shaft of his cock. You think for a moment, that you hope every time is like this. Not exactly being filmed, but that no matter how long this lasts, the reactions and the freshness of the feelings remain. It’s beautiful the way you melt for him and the way he feels put on edge by you. 

You cut your own thoughts short, deftly guiding his cock towards your entrance, pushing him just past the precipice before you bring your hands back up to brace yourself against his biceps. He flexes his hips, testing the waters, and you moan as he goes just a little bit deeper. 

“You want it all?” he asks, teasing you for how eager you are, but he’s just as eager. 

You nod, your lips brushing against his as you do, and he obliges. 

Adrian pushes into you fully, his hips flush against yours. He grits his teeth, baring them and seething as he bottoms out into you. You can barely think about how good the burn of the stretch feels, only about how complete all of this feels. It’s pure euphoria, the feeling of wholeness and fullness, you’re stupid and crazy crashing into Adrian’s stupid and crazy in all of the best ways. You work and this works. 

It’s not until he pulls almost all the way out before slamming back into you that you vocalize your pleasure. A wanton moan draws itself from your lips when his hips meet yours again. You can’t even fake the voice for Twitter, these are your moans and Adrian drinks them in happily. He licks at your lips as they quiver for him, your mouth actively trying to form around words that all die against his tongue. 

He begins his pace, somehow harsher than last night, and all you can do is try to arch into it. You know this is persona Adrian, @Mattvtweets if you will, and not the sweet man that needed to kiss you and double check that you liked him in the middle of brushing your teeth this morning. His hips thrust quickly, a rocking on a stormy sea pushing you deeper into the mattress, with you only anchor being your legs wrapped around him holding him close. He stretches you in the most lovely way, just the slightest burn that makes you feel brand new each time. 

“Fuck me, babe,” he gasps, a particulars thrust following his words.

“You are,” you giggle, punctuating your words by licking his jawline. Adrian’s lip curls upward, a laugh slightly punched out by his own breathlessness as he keeps up his pace.

“Gonna wreck you,” he promises, the sloppiest of kisses gets pressed to the corner of your mouth.

He leans away at that point, his hands grabbing your legs just above the knee to keep you in place as he speeds up, his hips moving more desperately. You try to lean as far into it as you can, a hard task at the angle Adrian has you at, but your fingertips manage to tangle themselves in his curls and he gives you the sweetest smiles off camera as he continues his cinematic actions. Adrian has you screaming, careful not to chant his name like you did last night, instead opting for sweet little pet names. Babe, Love, and Handsome all make the list. 

“Please!” you beg, “Please babe, please let me come!”

The look on Adrian’s face is almost sadistic, almost. If you didn’t know him, you think he would be about to edge you. However you’re so lucky he’s your boyfriend, your giddy boyfriend who blushes when you kiss him. He picks up his pace, to almost a breakneck speed. You throw your head back, pushing yourself between the pillows as he throws you off the proverbial cliff. 

“That’s right. Fuckin squeezing me,” he moans, “Tight little pussy like you were made for me.”

Fuck, where did your Adrian even learn to talk like this? 

“Yeah,” you gasp, trying to keep control of yourself as your legs start to shake, “All for you.”

God, you sound desperate. And your resolve is no match for Adrian, who decides that’s the moment when he’s going to bite down on your neck. The second his teeth close around sensitive skin you scream, fully giving in to your orgasm. Adrian holds you as you writhe beneath him, never stopping and only slowing his pace, easing you through your high.  His bites turn to soothing kisses, just letting you ride it out. 

“Thank you, babe,” you whisper, your sense starting to return to you. You’re not sure why you’re thanking him, a man so eager to have you fall apart around him.

“Oh don’t thank me yet,” he mumbles against your jaw, laughter in his tone. He stills his hips, peppering your face with kisses before moving to push himself off of you. 

“Where should I….?” he trails off, but you know the rest of the question anyway. Your hands work their way up and down his chest, something you’re still getting used to being able to do after dreaming of it since you joined the team. 

“Dealer’s choice,” you offer, and you can see in his eyes he’s about to say he’s not a dealer or something like that, but the camera works wonders to stop him from giving himself away. 

“Is— okay wow that was sexy— is chest okay? I love these fucking tits.”

You can’t help but gasp at the feeling of him pulling out. Adrian eagerly untangles himself from your legs, eager to work his way up to your chest. 

“Come for me, babe,” you command him, and wrap your hand around his shaft. Your pace starts slow, and then picks up speed, your hand working hip from base to tip. Adrian throws his head back, not unlike the way he had you doing exactly that just earlier, and moans while you work him. It doesn’t take long to have his hips stuttering against your wrist, desperate for release. 

“C’mon babe, give it to me,” you beg, working him a little faster. 

“Yeah,” he moans, a little breathless, “Yeah, okay.” 

He thrusts against your hand again once, a second time a little more ragged and off course, before he spills against your skin. 

“That’s it,” you coax him, heat running down your hand and pooling on your chest. You work him through his high the same way he did yours, with care gentleness as he moans and mumbles about how good you are and you drink up the praise. 

You slow to a stop as he calms down, and decide you're going to rile him right back up. You uncurl your fingers from around his shaft and immediately dip two of them into the mess along your sternum, only to push the two fingers past your lips, as far back into your throat as you can fit.

His eyes go wide as he watches you, and he scrambles towards to phone to end the video.

"Holy fuck, cowgirl, you can't do that to me on camera!" he scolds, but the wide smile on his face and the kisses he pushes into your cheekbones tell you he loves it. He gently pulls your fingers out of your mouth only to wrap his own lips around them next.

"Why not?" you ask, batting your lashes at him, "You gonna punish me?"

"Mmmm, Mhm" he hums, refusing to release your hand. You can only laugh as he stays put, switching from sucking on your fingers to kissing all over your hand, and fuck, you realize you did good last night.

Your bliss is only interrupted by the alarm on your phone.

"Fuck!" you shout, genuinely enraged at the interruption. Thats your alarm for work.

"Alright, babe, bring me a washcloth or something and then we gotta go," you tell him, and Adrian whines but he's quick to get off of you and follow directions. He comes back quickly with not only a washcloth but one of his hoodies. Of course, because you don't have a change of clothes here. You settle for leaving your shirt here, throwing on his hoodie once your chest is clean and you scramble around for the rest of last nights clothes on the floor.

You manage to dress yourself, looking expectantly between your phone's clock and your boyfriend.

"Hold on, I'm posting," he holds up one finger telling you to wait, "Then I'll drive us over."

Your phone dings, no doubt a notification of his tweet. You don't check it though, because Adrian practically clotheslines you to hug you and pull you towards the door.

It's not actually until you've got your seatbelt fastened in the Vigilante-mobile that you get to check the notification. He posted the video.

"@mattvtweets: I finally got the girl <3"

[maximura]

Ad Astra: The Theory Of Relativity | An Interstellar Ateez story Part I | Part II | Part III | Park IV | Part V | Part VI | Part VII (Words 5000, Gen, Warnings: swearing) You can now also read it all on A03

The rocket thrusters continue to fire at 100% but they cannot maintain the shuttle’s momentum without the pilot taking control of the flight path. The shuttle’s wing panels shake and shimmer with instability, the craft veers dangerously off course, losing both fuel and momentum as it surges haphazardly towards the exosphere. 

The pilot loses control of the engines. 

The pilot loses control of the thrusters. 

The pilot loses control of the navigation. 

The shuttle breaks apart in the exosphere with no survivors on board. 

The screen goes black.

*

“This simulation is rigged!” San announces hotly as he climbs out of the flight simulator.

“No, it’s not.” Hongjoong replies through the intercom of the control room. “This is based on a real mission. It is achievable.”

“I’ve done it twice and it’s failed both times. Even Mingyu didn’t get past the exosphere and Taehyun crashed it four times! How do we even know it can be done?"

Seungcheol steeples his fingers in contemplation but there’s a sly mischievous grin on his face as he looks at Hongjoong and nods towards the simulator. 

“Go on. Show the children.” 

Hongjoong pushes the intercom button again.

“I know it can be done San because I did it. This was my mission. I wrote this simulation."

If earning Choi San’s awe and respect turns out to be a bad influence on the teenager, well that’s between them and God. 

****

Dear Mr Kim, 

I regret to inform you that there has been an incident regarding Flight Training Simulator A. As you know, an emergency meeting has been arranged tomorrow. You are expected to arrive at 9:00am KST sharp. I’m sure you are also aware, though I feel the need to remind you again, that the consequence of your non-compliance, like mine, always leads to martial law.

Regards, 

Dr Park Seonghwa

NASA Deputy head of Astrophysics, Robotic Engineering and Interstellar Biology, PhD

P.S I strongly advise that you dress appropriately and avoid any confrontation, for both our sakes. As I am writing to you in confidence, please delete this message after reading. 

****

“Yunho! Get up!” 

The lump on the bed doesn’t move.

At least not until Hongjoong nudges it with his foot. “I’m serious, get up! I need to talk to you.”

Groaning, Yunho rolls over, a little shocked to see his older brother fully dressed up in a shirt and tie this early on a Saturday morning.

“Why are you up already? What are you wearing?” He croaks, throat rusty from sleep. “Is that dad’s tie?”

Hongjoong is reading a letter with a deep frown on his face. “I’ve been called into NASA’s head office for an urgent meeting, they’re flipping out about something. I need you to start that job on Mr Lee’s tractor engine by yourself today. You know how, we did the same thing a few weeks ago. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“What? By myself?” Yunho repeats in disbelief. "Are you sure?"

Hongjoong doesn’t look up from his letter. “Yes I'm sure. I’ve already called Mr Lee. He’s fine with it as long as I come take a look this afternoon to double check. You’ll be fine, you’ve done it plenty of times already.”

Yunho sits up in bed now. “I’ve only done it five times Hongjoong and you were there for all of them.” 

“I barely had to correct you on anything last time. You don't really need me anymore. You're ready.”

Yunho just gapes at him, mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. 

Hongjoong finally folds the offending document he’s reading into his bag and looks at his brother. 

They’ve been so tired and caught up in their own separate problems that they’ve missed how worn out the other has been. The NASA job eats up most of Hongjoong’s time and if there’s anything left over, it’s spent trying to keep up with all the farming jobs that continue to come in.

Hongjoong makes it a rule that no matter where their day takes them, they come home to eat dinner together. Yunho appreciates how hard his older brother is trying to hold everything together but can’t ignore the way that grip is slipping. One day there won't be a grip at all. One day Yunho will need to take matters into his own hands. He knows it's coming, he just doesn't know when.

“Listen, if you can’t do it, I’ll call Mr Lee and reschedule it.” Hongjoong sighs, running a hand through his hair. “He’ll understand."

“No, I can do it!” Yunho interjects loudly, wincing at how harsh his voice suddenly got. “It’s just….I haven’t done a whole job without you before.”

Hongjoong comes over to squeeze his brother's shoulder firmly, the movement is reassuring and grounding for the both of them. “The tractor is older than you. It’s basic as they come. Mr Lee isn’t in a rush so you’ll be fine. Wooyoung is on for tool-duty. You got this.”

“Well, um okay. If you think so.”

“Yes, I do.” Hongjoong nods. “Now get up. It’s 8am. I’ll drop you guys off with the tools on the way.”

“Can I have five more minutes?”

“Sure.”

“Really?”

“Nope. Get your ass up now.”

*****

It's with a sense of deja vu that Hongjoong meets Seungcheol in the dim corridor of NASA’s headquarters. The older man painting a well-practiced picture of apathy: his white shirt sleeves are already rolled up to the elbows, dark blue tie slackened despite the early hour and those broad shoulders devoid of any tension at all as they lean against the wall.

He wears a deeply unimpressed expression on his face which only brightens up when he sees Hongjoong approaching. 

“Morning!”

“Morning?” Hongjoong replies slowly, confused by the jovial tone of his friend at a time like this. “Did you get the same memos as me? NASA sounds pissed.”

“Every government agency sounds pissed.” Seungcheol points out. “Same shit, different day.”

“Why don’t you have PTSD from this?” Hongjoong asks. “Last time we were both summoned to a meeting together, we both lost our jobs.”

Seungcheol laughs brightly. “Well, kiddo, the thing is: we’re all they’ve got. They know it. I know it. You know it. So this is probably just a little formality to let them air their grievances so it looks like we got disciplined. Just nod and smile and we’ll be outta here in 40 minutes max.”

Hongjoong opens his mouth to protest but Seungcheol is already holding up a finger. “Do. Not. Engage. You hear me? Your mouth and attitude always gets us in trouble.”

“Me?! But I don’t even know what-”

Seungcheol quirks a strong, and vaguely threatening, eyebrow. 

“Okay okay.” Hongjoong sighs, holding his hands up in surrender. “No engaging, I got it.”

“Good. Just smile and nod. It’ll be fine!” Seungcheol chirps cheerfully again. “Whatever this bullshit is, let’s just get it over with. The fucking audacity to call me in on my day off and not even tell me the emergency. I swear these clowns just want to push my buttons.”

Hongjoong looks over, confused again. Maybe Seungcheol didn’t get the same memo from Dr. Park. Maybe he just didn’t bother to read the details. Or maybe he didn’t want to know, though the latter scenarios seem highly unlikely. Which leaves… 

“We’re all here on our day off Commander Choi. Perhaps the clowns are just ready for the circus to roll into town.”

Doctor Park Seonghwa. 

He had walked up to them so quietly that Hongjoong barely even heard it. They nod a polite greeting to one another but nothing more is said.

It's been awhile since they saw each other; a few weeks feeling like years, both men now in possession of longer hair, shorter tempers and heavier responsibilities. Not even the dim lighting of NASA’s corridor could hide their dark circles and tired lines; familiar telltale signs of one’s complete inability to find any work-life balance. 

They share a brief look of what might be understanding or maybe commiseration, on Hongjoong’s part anyway, before Yeosang directs them into the boardroom with a professionally neutral expression on his face. 

And then it begins. 

Yeosang clears his throat before briefing the room on the latest developments: 

“Last night, Friday 22nd, at approximately 7pm, our security personnel received an alert from the Western training facility. Upon further investigation, a Level 1 trainee was discovered in Flight Training Simulator A. He was promptly escorted off the premises and will be questioned in due course. This meeting’s purpose is to address the unfortunate news that there has been a malfunction with Simulator A that has rendered it inoperable for the foreseeable future. We have our technicians assessing it as we speak.”

What the hell.

Hongjoong notices that Professsor Park is not present around the table but the same familiar suits and faces from his previous interrogation are. This is not going to end well. Not when he was the last person to run a simulation on that very machine. 

“Commander Choi, as lead instructor, what is your knowledge regarding the malfunction of Flight Training Simulator A?”

For all his intensity and prickly demeanour, Seungcheol remains oddly civil. “The simulator was functioning normally during the last training session. I have no knowledge of any malfunctions. NASA doesn’t pay me enough to babysit the children after hours.”

The suits are unamused but accept his answer and move on.

“Mr Kim, what is your knowledge regarding the malfunction of Flight Training Simulator A?”

“Training finished at the scheduled 5pm. The simulator was working normally when we left. I….was at a birthday party for my brother after that. I don’t have any knowledge of the malfunction either.”

There’s a murmur from the Head Suits but they also move on, turning to the left to address someone else. 

“Doctor Park, as a Deputy Head, what is your knowledge regarding the malfunction of Flight Training Simulator A?”

Hongjoong looks across the tablet in surprise.

The young Doctor is trying keeping his face neutral but Hongjoong can see his jaw muscles tensing, no doubt a movement to contain the simmering frustration underneath.

“As I have already informed you all in writing, I do not have further knowledge of the malfunction.”

The Blue Suit leans forward, in both a leering and aggressive way that makes Hongjoong’s hands twitch. “Yes, of course we have read your email but what I am asking you now Doctor Park, is why your security ID tag was used to access the training facility after hours?”

Quiet gasps of shock ripples through the room and Hongjoong looks at the Doctor in earnest now, searching that stern and cold face for any signs of….anything. 

But there’s barely anything else to find. 

“I believe I also explained that in my email.” Doctor Park replies evenly, before dropping his security tag onto the wooden table with a loud clack that echoes uncomfortably in the cavernous room. “There is only one copy of my security ID tag and it is sitting here on this table right now. If there is another one out there, then that is a security issue, because I can assure you that I have not-“

“Could it be that you allowed the trainee to borrow it?” The Blue Suit interrupts. “He would have access to it, would he not? Perhaps when you were not looking?”

“No. I did not do that.” Doctor Park furrows his eyebrows in frustration. It’s a small movement but it’s there. The cracks are beginning to show and it makes Hongjoong suddenly nervous to see the other man be anything but a cold stone wall.

“He knows not to do that.”

He? 

Who?

Oh no.

Hongjoong is still processing the information but Seungcheol is leaning back in his chair chuckling quietly to himself, as if he’s figured it all out and all that’s missing is a bowl of popcorn to enjoy the show. 

“But he did do it.” The Blue Suit pushes on. “We have security footage that Choi San used your ID tag to gain access to the training facility, then proceeded to spend the next three hours frying the electrics of our Flight Simulator. What do you think we should do about that?”

Doctor Park’s hands form two fists on the table for a few seconds before relaxing again. “He is to face the consequences the Board sees fit but I ask you to consider his age and abilities-“

“You cannot be impartial.” The Blue Suit scowls, shaking his head in disappointment. “The board members have been considering removing you from the Lazarus mission. Favouritism has no place at NASA.”

At this, there is audible shock in the room. Even Seungcheol sits up. 

“What the hell?!” It slips from Hongjoong’s mouth before his filter could even catch it. “This is ridiculous. It’s mostly his mission!”

Seungcheol groans beside him and kicks at his ankle in warning. “Don’t…”

But it’s too late, all the attention swings from Doctor Park to rest heavily on Hongjoong’s face. Suddenly his dad’s tie feels like it’s choking him.

Flashbacks flood his mind now; from being escorted off his half broken ship, to the humiliating hearing, to the disappointment on his parent's faces, to Seungcheol’s angry tirade in the aftermath and finally, to them both being fired permanently from any NASA or military employment. 

Yeosang clears his throat, perhaps sensing the precarious mood in the room, and speaks before the Suits get the chance. 

“Mr Kim, if you do not have any further relevant information to contribute to this matter, I would suggest letting the Board continue.”

It’s a warning and a small mercy. Seungcheol has to kick Hongjoong’s ankle twice to get the message across. 

“Yes. I apologise.” Hongjoong forces himself to say. “I don’t have any more….relevant information.” 

The Suits turn back to Doctor Park, whose elegant edges were beginning to fray. 

“Doctor Park, the Board has always appreciated you and your father’s generosity in assisting Trainee Choi San into the program. We regret Professor Park cannot join us today but we cannot be seen showing leniency and favouritism in the face of such egregious irresponsibility. The Board moves to relieve you of your role in the flight training portion of the Lazarus Mission. You will only have security clearance for your robotics and biological pursuits. Trainee Choi will be demoted from Level 1 to Level 2 as a consequence. You understand this has to be done. We take no joy in it.”

Doctor Park’s jaw tenses again and Hongjoong can feel the intensity rolling off the other man in deafening waves. 

“I ask you to please reconsider. I will pay for the repairs, I can assure you Trainee Choi only had good intentions-“

The Blue Suit laughs. “His good intentions broke a $10 Million dollar NASA grade machine.”

The Doctor slumps at that. Finally defeated.

“The Board’s decision is final. If there are any objections from any other members, let them voice it now.”

Hongjoong’s fingers dig into the arm rests but before he can even move forward in his seat to protest again, Seungcheol’s hand shoots out to yank him back. “No.”

When Hongjoong looks across the table to lock eyes with Doctor Park, he’s met with a small dejected shake of the head.

Remnants of last night's email echoes in his head;

P.S I strongly advise that you dress appropriately and avoid any confrontation, for both our sakes.

It's only then that the fight leaves Hongjoong. 

“That concludes the first portion of today’s meeting.” Yeosang’s neutral voice fills the room again. “We move to the second portion, regarding the unsatisfactory behaviour and progress of our trainees. The Board expresses concerns regarding the training methods used by Commander Choi and Mr Kim, from whom we request an explanation.”

It takes a few seconds for Seungcheol to move forward in his seat, like he had all the time in the world. His tie remains askew and he runs a hand through his long dark hair before speaking. The movement irks several Board Members and Hongjoong marvels at Seungcheol’s exceptional talent for pissing off government heads. 

“We’ve inherited a misfit group of mediocre pilot trainees. It takes time breaking bad habits, we’re doing it as fast as we can. Bad habits are worse than no habits.”

“What is your solution for this mediocre performance?”

“Solution?” Seungcheol snorts a laugh that sounds both resigned and annoyed. “You want us to upskill a bunch of kids in 12 months, at something that takes at least 4 years, in a job that less than 1% of the population can perform, with 90% less resources. The solution is to keep going.”

“Keep going?” The Blue Suit deadpans condescendingly. “That’s the solution? Could you be more specific? Might I remind you of the amount of goodwill and money we have—“

Seungcheol breathes in and out so heavily and so slowly that the entire room can see it, hear it and feel it. Like a Dragon taking pause before it makes a kill. Even Yeosang shifts uncomfortably in his chair. 

“No. You may not.” The commander says coldly. “No amount of money can fix them. If you want specifics: these kids aren’t good enough. The only solution for better results is better training and better pilots. We’re working like hell on the former but we’re in short supply of the latter.”

Hongjoong braces himself as Seungcheol continues. 

“Do not speak to me about goodwill. Your goodwill means nothing. These kids know they may be giving up their lives for future missions and they’re still stubborn enough to keep going. That’s the only goodwill I care about.”

There is a beat of silence but miraculously, Blue Suit only frowns as he continues. “How do you propose to increase their experience now that one of the simulators is out of action? Are you prepared to increase your work hours? Are either of you? We need pilots ready as soon as possible.”

“Well, you already have a fully trained pilot don’t you?" Seungcheol says, his eyes full of apology as they land on Hongjoong. "He’s a bit rusty, sure, but it would take me less time getting him mission-ready than it would running that pilot daycare.”

Seungcheol pauses, and there’s another rare gentle look in his eyes as he regards Hongjoong again, “The pilot daycare is years away from being mission ready so if you people want a competent pilot in space in the next 6 months, get the CyberSynk program back online. CAASI was made for this wasn’t he?”

This question is directed at Doctor Park, whose shock is clearly visible. “Yes but he hasn't done a flight with another human since the program shut down."

"But he can do it can't he? Isn't this what you built him for?"

"....Yes."

The Suits voice their objections but Seungcheol pushes on.

“How soon can you get him and LEO flight ready?”

Doctor Park is taken aback by the question again but after a moment's pause, his reply comes out steady, “A month at most, to recalibrate the data and sequences.”

“See? There you go. I solved this ridiculous maths problem for you all.” Seungcheol leans back in his chair with a smug grin before pointing to both Hongjoong and Doctor Park. “I need that lunatic because he’s our best pilot and I need the good doctor over there for his robots. So if you really want to get this circus on the road, you’re going to need to immediately re-instate both of them as active mission personnel.”

The room breaks out into instant loud protest again but Hongjoong can’t hear them above the chaos in his head. How well does Seungcheol know CAASI? Who was LEO? The CyberSynk Program was shut down by NASA years ago because they couldn't be convinced that man and robot could co-pilot a space shuttle together into deep space. They had deemed the standard built-in auto-pilot AI option was already adequate. If CyberSynk has been shut down for all these years, why was CAASI built for it?

Hongjoong can’t think straight. There’s a loud ringing in his ears that keeps him frozen in his chair but when he finally lifts his head up to look across the table, all he sees is Doctor Park’s wide eyes locking into his. 

There’s Shock. Concern. But underneath it all, determination. 

****

Hongjoong sits on a metal bench, hidden away from the main building, just breathing and staring at the expanse of dirt and dust in front of him. It was quiet, calm, not altogether unpleasant but this dusty-nothingness wasn’t really a way to live either. His brothers deserve better. 

There’s a rustle to his left that pulls him back to the present and when he looks up, he’s surprised it’s neither of the people he expected; not a smugly victorious Seungcheol or a stressed-out Doctor Park but a lanky teenager in a shirt and tie who had the audacity to look sheepish.

“Hi.” San says quietly. 

“Hey.” Hongjoong replies back, attempting a smile but knowing it comes across as a grimace, judging by the way San just stays awkwardly rooted in his spot. 

“Sorry….about your meeting. You probably had better things to do today.”

Hongjoong chuckles. “That’s what you’re sorry about? You’re not sorry about breaking a 10 million dollar NASA machine?”

San pokes at the gravel with the toe of his shoe and shrugs. “It was an old machine on it’s last legs anyway. It was going to die soon, especially with all the training we’ve been doing on it lately. That thing is older than me. Seonghwa took me to see it when I first came to NASA.”

Hongjoong recalls San’s story; of him being orphaned as a child, brought to NASA, taken in by a generous family...

Oh.

It suddenly explains so much.

“So, er, you and Doctor Park….” Hongjoong starts carefully, unsure how to really continue but really wanting to ask. San must have understood the silence because he takes a step closer, this time with a fond smile. 

“Professor Park adopted me in when I was little. Seonghwa has always been a brother to me.” The young pilot says. “NASA didn’t really like it, something about how unfair it was and they how thought I cheated my way in. Maybe I’m just good!”

Hongjoong laughs out loud at the arrogance of teenage hood. He’s heard this before because he probably said the exact same thing to Seungcheol once upon a time and earned a good cuff behind the ears. The laughter startles a smile out of San, whose shoulders relax a little. 

“Sit down.” Hongjoong says, patting the empty spot on the bench. “How did you do it?”

“Do what?”

Hongjoong fixes San with a withering look. “Steal your supposed brother’s security ID to break into a NASA facility and destroy one of their training simulators.”

There’s a smile that threatens to creep onto San’s face and if Hongjoong was a better role model he’d have felt the need to scold the teenager for it. 

He doesn't.

“I just swapped it for mine when he wasn’t looking.” San replies nonchalantly, like it was something so simple a mere child could do it and in fact, did. “He’s been so focused on the mission's projects, I figured he wasn’t going to notice for awhile-”

“Wait a second,” Hongjoong interrupts. “When was he not looking? He’s always looking. He looks at everything!”

San rolls his eyes. “It’s called being obsessed and hyper fixated actually. He gets into these zones and forgets everything else. You could set yourself on fire in front of him and he might not even notice.”

Hongjoong frowns at the thought of the other man burning himself out for this mission, only to front a meeting for something he didn’t even do. And yet, as he looks at the culprit beside him, he can’t really summon up anger or blame either. Not when he did the exact same thing himself a few years ago with far more expensive consequences.

“Why did you do it San?”

The young trainee shrugs. 

“San…”

There’s silence for a minute. It’s not as uncomfortable as Hongjoong was expecting. San plays with his restless hands before finally speaking again. 

“You said it could be done. I wanted to try and do it like you showed us but it never worked. I kept getting it wrong, over and over again.” 

“You’re a level 1 trainee. You’re not supposed to be getting every simulation right. That’s not the point of the training. That’s what the exams are for.”

“Well, I almost had it before the stupid thing started smoking and dying on me.” 

Against his better judgment, Hongjoong laughs. San, sensing he wasn’t going to get scolded again, chuckles along cautiously.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Sure.” Hongjoong replies.

“Did they fire you again?”

Hongjoong shakes his head, unsure what to really say. "No, not quite."

"Oh good." San breathes out a sigh of relief. "So I didn't get you or Commander Choi in trouble? Will you still teach us?"

"We'll be fine but you got demoted San. I'm not sure who will be teaching your level now."

"I know." San mumbles miserably. "But if you had free time..."

"If I had free time and it was legally approved, then sure."

"But even if it wasn't technically legally approved-"

"You really are trying to get me fired again aren't you?"

***

It’s Doctor Park who finds them in the end.

“You okay?”

“Yeah.” San replies at the same time Hongjoong nods, each unsure who the question was meant for. 

“Looks like there will be a lot of new changes soon.” Doctor Park says as he sits down on the bench. “For all of us.”

“I know.” San mumbles. “It’s so stupid I have to train with the level 2 kids. They’re so slow. I deserve to be with the level 1’s!”

“You are still a kid and you’re lucky they didn’t kick you off the program altogether.”

“I’m their best pilot!” San exclaims, looking at the only older brother he’s ever known. “Seonghwa, I was just trying to be better, I swear. That’s what they said they wanted! It’s so stupid I have to be held back for doing exactly what they wanted."

He has a point, Hongjoong thinks.

“That’s not the point.” Doctor Park says as he lets out a quiet weary sigh. It comes out so soft that Hongjoong has a hard time believing this is the same man who interrogated him a few months ago and won.

“Is….the Professor angry with me?” San asks tentatively.

“Angry?” Doctor Park smirks as he looks over. “He laughed for multiple minutes when I told him what you did. I guess breaking rules is in this family’s DNA.”

“But I’m adopted.” San points out. 

“Then it’s all my fault you’re a lunatic. You were raised by wolves and I’m the wolf mother.” 

The image of Doctor Park playing mother wolf to a wild teenage San flashes through Hongjoong’s mind and he can't to stop the bubble of laughter from escaping. They both look across at him in question and only slight judgement. 

“Um, I think we’re all to blame for this lunatic, Doctor Park. He’s been raised by a whole pack of wolves.” Hongjoong says with a chuckle. “I’m not exactly the best role model NASA has available.”

“Oh I am very aware of that.”

"No, he’s awesome Seonghwa!" San surges forward to object. "He taught me how to-“

“Anyway,” Hongjoong interrupts hastily, kicking at the teenager's foot to stop the incriminating rambling, even if he was warmed by San’s defence of him. If Doctor Park noticed, he doesn’t say anything and Hongjoong takes the opportunity to change the subject. 

“How is the professor? He didn’t come to the meeting.”

“My father was not feeling well this morning. He’s been updated on the outcomes.”

It’s an answer that is deliberately brief but firm enough not to invite any more questions. It does nothing to reassure him but Hongjoong doesn’t miss the microsecond of sadness that flashes across Doctor Park’s face, it doesn’t linger, few emotions do, and before anything more can be said, the impassive neutral mask is back on. 

“Please let him know I hope he recovers soon.” Hongjoong says.

“I will.” 

“Do you need-“

“We’re fine.”

“Okay.” Hongjoong nods, not pushing the matter. 

The air between them grows awkward, San must sense it because he’s looking between the two adults on either side of him, his prodigious mind no doubt whirring furiously as it tries to figure out the cause.

Not wanting to make it more awkward, Hongjoong stands up abruptly, nearly bumping into Doctor Park, who also stands up abruptly, both clearly having the same idea of ending this conversation but simply walking away. 

“I better get going.”

“So should we. Come on San, time to go home.”

San’s confusion clears enough for a mischievous expression to form on his face. “Can I drive?”

Both adults turn to him in unison. “NO.”

“I know how!” San cries.

Doctor Park rolls his eyes and nudges his adopted brother towards the car park. “Still no.”

“What am I going to do all day?" The teenager whines. "I don’t want to read and study anymore Seonghwa! It's so boring.”

And it’s then that the circus in Hongjoong’s brain spits out a thought he may live to regret. 

“Hey, if you want him to let off some steam, he’s welcome to join me on the farm with my brothers. We’ll be fixing some tractors today and could always use a hand. It might keep him out of trouble for awhile. Give you some peace and quiet?”

Doctor Park stops dead in his tracks, eyes uncertain but thoughtful as he considers the offer, no doubt overthinking about the 14 million possible ways it could all go wrong. Especially when San has just freshly broken a 10 million dollar government machine. 

The young criminal in question perks up like a puppy being offered a walk. 

“Wait, I can drive tractors! I know how. Seonghwa can I go?” 

“You don’t even officially have your driver’s licence yet.” Doctor Park points out. 

“Oh come on, it’s a tractor! You can't even speed in it.”

Hongjoong chooses his next words carefully, not wanting to overstep his boundaries or undermine the doctor’s parenting but if anyone knows a how to depressurise a hyperactive teenage genius, it's him.

“I have about 4 hectares of land out there, plenty of space, even if they crash. The tractors are really old and slow. My brother’s know how to handle themselves around them safely. I’ll be there to watch the whole time. I won’t let him get hurt.”

Doctor Park is silent as he looks from one pilot to the other. It's a piercing and uncomfortable gaze, heavy with both exasperation and adoration as it lands on San.

“Alright fine but I don't trust either of you with machinery right now. I will be coming along to supervise."

[sebastiansluts]

Can you pleaseeeeeeeeeeeee write a little something about Sebastian's zoom call look. Maybe his girl giving him the sloppiest head ever ?

Sebastian Stan x Reader; oral sex m receiving, spitting, finger sucking

ANY HATE WILL BE DELETED THIS IS A JUDGEMENT FREE ZONE DON’T LIKE, DON’T INTERACT; MINORS DO NOT INTERACT 18+

You were sitting on the couch reading, as Sebastian ended the zoom call with a smile, sitting in a chair adjacent to you. You couldn't help but grin as you watched him over the edge of your book, as he swept a hand through his hair and stretched before pocketing his phone.

You set your book down, sliding off the couch and getting to your hands and knees, crawling over to him. You stopped at his feet, Sebastian smirking down at you, leaning on his hand as he propped up on the arm of the chair.

The sun was shining in your face, making you squint to see him, but his still eyes popped with that deep sea green shirt, and they were focused in on you.

"What are you doing down there baby?" Sebastian asked, one hand on his thigh, drumming his long fingers as his other hand cupped his bearded chin. His hair hung around his face in a dark curtain, and your fingers itched to run through it.

"Just getting a change of view," you said casually, running your hands up his calves in his jeans, tight on his body. You gripped the denim as you traveled up, massaging his strong thighs.

"Baby..." Sebastian said warningly, but you ignored him, smoothing your hands up his thighs until you had pushed his shirt up his torso. You moaned quietly at the sight of firm muscles with a trail of hair that leaned forwards and licked.

Sebastian's hands wrapped around your head, directing you until you were nearly under his shirt, before you lifted your head and kissed him messily. Your hands fumbled with the button and zipper, yanking them open and pulling his jeans and briefs down his thighs far enough that you could get to his dick.

You pulled away from the kiss with a gasp, meeting his gaze with a grin as your hand wrapped around his hard dick. Sebastian hissed, but you didn't give him time to adjust before you were gathering spit in your mouth and sinking down on his cock.

"Fuck! Shit babe, your mouth, you're so fucking good at that," Sebastian moaned, his hand finding its way into your hair and tightening. You groaned around his cock, vibrations traveling through and he yanked your hair, making your eyes roll as you sucked harder.

"Shitshit easy baby, don't want this over too soon, do you?" Sebastian chuckled tightly as you let up, licking the tip of his dick instead. You collected the precum with your tongue, smearing it across your lip as you stared Sebastian down. He groaned and forced you back down on his dick.

It slid down your throat, gagging you, spit forming in your mouth even as he pulled you back, tears welling in your eyes. You dragged your mouth down around his balls, sucking one, then the other inside, holding them before releasing them along with a long trail of spit.

"God, you're so fucking messy baby, gonna need to clean up everything after this," Sebastian laughed as you sat up, face shining with spit and tears. "Go on, spit on my dick, baby."

You moaned and gathered saliva in your mouth, sucking on your tongue for a moment to build it up before spitting harshly on the tip of his dick. Sebastian groaned at the sight of a line of spit connecting you to him, as your hand jacked his dick quickly, spreading it.

You bent your head back down and sucked him into your mouth again, circling your tongue around his cock until he tightened his fist still in your hair and pulled you back.

"Gonna fuck your face now baby, you ready?" Sebastian asked, and you gazed up at him, his cheeks lightly flushed, shirt rucked up against his pecs, one nipple out and pebbled, making you desperate to nip it.

Sebastian slid two fingers into your mouth, and you started sucking immediately. "I said, 'gonna fuck your face now baby, ready?',' he repeated, pressing down on your tongue, saliva pooling in your mouth until he hooked his fingers and pulled your jaw open, spit drooling out down your chin and neck to your tits, pooling in the cleavage.

"Messy, messy girl," Sebastian chided, and you flushed even as you pressed your thighs together, your core aching. "Play with you pussy- no, play my pussy."

You moaned loudly, your mouth still hanging open, and Sebastian grinned, pulling you back to his dick. You let your jaw hang wide, and he slid his cock along your tongue, nudging against the roof of your mouth before he slid his hand around the back of your head, pushing you down.

You slid your hand into your yoga pants, thong already soaked through and sticking to your pussy. You pushed it aside and immediately slid two fingers into your cunt as his dick went down your throat.

The two of you groaned in unison, yours muffled by cock, and Sebastian placed his palms on either side of your face, holding your head.

You kept your throat relaxed as best you could, even as you fucked your pussy with your fingers, pressing deep and making your eyes flutter.

"That's a good girl, make yourself feel good as you choke on my cock, baby," Sebastian muttered, pushing your head down, making you gag on him. You pulled back, swallowing hard, the tip still between your lips as your eyes watered.

Sebastian's bearded mouth was parted slightly, his tongue licking his lips as he stared at you. His chest was rising steadily but heavily, his breaths strong and full, highlighting his clenching abdomen.

You stared at it as Sebastian slid you back down his dick, lightly fucking your face until tears were streaming down your face and spit was pooling in his lap. You kept fucking yourself, your thumb rubbing circles around your clit, driving your higher as he fucked your throat.

You looked up at him as he grunted, hips starting to stagger in their rhythm, pressing harder and deeper until he suddenly pulled back and started jacking his dick, still holding your head back with his other hand.

"Gonna coat your pretty face baby, let you really be the messy girl you're aching to be, huh? Give you a proper facial, like you deserve- my girl deserves only the best kind, right?" Sebastian asked and you panted, nodding desperately as much as you could, your fingers flying over your clit.

Your eyes rolled back in your head as you suddenly came, his hand tightening in your hair, and you felt the first rope of cum hit your cheek. You gasped, sticking your tongue out and hearing Sebastian groan as he worked his hand faster, painting your face with his seed.

"Fuck babe, there you are, my perfect messy girl. Need to take a picture of you like this, remind you how you love to be whenever you're a brat," Sebastian chuckled, and you grinned, tongue between your teeth as you swallowed his cum.

[maracujatangerine]

73. Looking for advice

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

- Next

*

Lydia looked up towards the stairs and listened. The house was silent. In all likelihood, Cory had gone to bed. She quietly pulled the door to her study closed anyway. She didn’t want Coriander to see this.

She pushed the start button on her laptop and listened to it whirring and buzzing quietly to itself. When it was ready, she opened her browser and logged in to the forum. She typed in “GreenBookworm” and her password.

Lydia had been lurking around for a couple of days and now she thought it was time to actually ask a question. She felt a bit nervous. Lydia had discovered plenty of pet owner forums online, and this, focused on pet care and welfare, seemed the best out of a bad bunch. One memorably awful one had been dedicated to sharing photos of “pets after punishment”. She had deleted her browser history after visiting that one. Coriander didn’t use her computer, but she still worried that he would find out that she had seen it. She was sure he would infer that she had been looking for ideas.

Lydia pulled a hand through her hair. It was frustrating that Cory so easily could slip back into what she thought of as his ‘pet practices’. He was so brave and she thought that she had done a pretty decent job of building trust between them. Lydia did feel like he was improving, little by little, but still, the step between him acting as a person and acting like a pet was so short.

Discussing her and Coriander’s situation with Linden had been useful, and she really felt like she needed more ideas. Perhaps the other pet owners on the forum could help. There was one major thing that worried her and that had been particularly bad lately. She would start with that.

Quickly, she typed in: “My pet has terrible nightmares, what can I do?” She clicked on ‘send’. Fingers crossed, Lydia logged out and went to bed.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @whumpzone @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @icannotweave @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

[all-the-things-2020]

No Better Place - Chapter 14

Summary: Javi gets a job offer … in San Antonio.

Word count: 2300+

The red light was blinking on the answering machine when they walked in. Chucho threw down his hat and sank into his favorite armchair. “See what that is, mijo,” he said wearily. They’d been out riding fence all day.

Javi pressed the playback button and an unfamiliar voice came from the tiny speaker. “Hi, this is Greg Montauk with the San Antonio Police Department. I’m calling for Mr. Javier Pena. I spoke with a colleague of yours, a Mr. Steve Murphy, at a conference in New Orleans last week, and I think you’d be a great candidate for a position we’ve got opening up. We’re doing interviews next week, so if you’re available, please give me a call back. My number is …” Javi’s finger hovered over the “delete” button.

“Press it and I’ll whoop your ass until you can’t sit for a week,” Chucho growled. “You’re calling him back.”

“Dad …”

Chucho grabbed the pen he kept on his side table to work the Sunday crossword puzzle and tossed it at Javi. “Write down the number and you’re calling him back first thing tomorrow,” he said. “It’s just an interview. No commitment.” He stared into Javi’s eyes until Javi had to look away.

“All right, all right,” he said, pressing the playback button so he could listen to the message again and write down the details. “Think you were trying to get rid of me or something.”

“Well, maybe I want my guest room back,” Chucho said. “I thought you might move in with Cassidy, but that’s not happening, is it?”

Javi scribbled the name and phone number onto a scrap of paper and then turned to his father. “I told you, we’re not ready for that yet,” he said quietly. “And if you’re so damned set on me and Cassidy setting up house together, why are you pushing me to take an interview for a job out of town?”

Chucho scoffed. “San Antonio is only a couple of hours away. It’s not like it’s Dallas or Chicago or DC or Colombia. I’d still get to see you.”

“But I’d be in San Antonio and Cassidy would be here,” Javi muttered. “Not like we could keep the horses in an apartment.”

“You’ll work it out,” Chucho said. “If you’re meant to be together, it’ll be okay.”

“And what if we aren’t?” Javi blurted out. “What if it doesn’t work out?”

“Then we get drunk on tequila and we move on,” Chucho said bluntly. “You can’t stay here in Laredo forever, mijo. You left before because you outgrew this place. If you stay, you’ll be stunting yourself. I don’t know what happened in Colombia, but Cassidy does, and she told me you needed some time, so I’ve given it to you. But you need to move on, Javi. Before you start to resent me, and Cassidy, for holding you back.”

“You know what? I’m tired. I’m going to bed,” Javi said. He felt his jaw clenching at his father’s words. He knew he was right, but it was too much to deal with right now.

“It’s barely seven o’clock,” Chucho replied. “What about dinner?”

“I’m not hungry,” Javi called out as he stalked to his bedroom. He shut the door and leaned against it, his eyes closed. God damn you, Steve Murphy, why’d you have to run into a guy with a job in San Antonio and give him my name? He shoved himself away from the door and sat on the bed.

It’s just an interview, he told himself. Like Dad said, no commitment. I drive up there, do the interview, odds are they won’t even want me. Or I won’t want the job, or the interviewer will be a jackass, or … He sighed. Or it’ll be the perfect job for me and they’ll love me and I’ll have to make the hardest decision in my life. The worst part was, he knew what Cassidy would tell him to do. Even if it broke her heart.

*************************************

Cassidy watched Buster prick his ears at the steer. Javi sat lightly in the saddle, the reins loose, waiting. The steer got nervous and started to move to the side. Buster tracked it and swiveled in place, keeping the cow in his sights.

“Oh, yeah,” Cassidy said to herself. She knew Buster didn’t like racing, or jumping, but he was bored in the riding arena and while he was relaxed enough on trails, he was constantly on alert. When they’d taken a ride through Chucho’s ranch the other day, however, Buster had been extremely interested in the cattle and so Cassidy had borrowed a young steer to test his cow sense.

“What do you think?” Javi said as he rode Buster over to the fence. The gelding was obedient, but kept an ear cocked toward the steer, which was on the other side of the arena, nervously looking for the rest of the herd.

“I think he’s a cow horse,” Cassidy said. “He took to that like a duck to water. He won’t need much training.”

Javi shook his head. “Never thought a Thoroughbred would want to work cattle,” he said. “Dad said only Quarter Horses have cow sense.”

“Lots of Quarter Horses have Thoroughbred bloodlines,” Cassidy said. “Most of the ones bred to race are half Thoroughbred or more.” She reached out and stroked Buster’s face. “Heck, one of the fiercest cutting horses I ever saw was a tiny little Arabian mare who wasn’t much bigger than that steer. Breeding doesn’t matter, it’s the horse’s mind and heart that count.”

“You’ll be able to get a good price for him,” Javi said. “Good cow horses are in demand around here.”

Cassidy traced a finger along the top rail of the fence. “I’m not selling him,” she said quietly.

“What?” Javi slid down from the saddle and leaned on the rail. “You’ve put a lot of time and money into him.”

She sighed. “I’m not selling him,” she repeated firmly. “Because he’s not mine.” She looked up at Javi. “He’s yours.”

“What?” Javi said again, a deep furrow between his brows. “I don’t understand.”

“You’ve put more hours into him than I have,” she said. “And he’s bonded with you. I can see that. He belongs with you.”

Javi hooked a finger through the cheekpiece of Buster’s bridle and turned the gelding’s head toward him. Buster pressed his forehead against Javi’s chest and gave a deep sigh. “I think he agrees,” Cassidy said.

Javi looked at her, his eyes dark and unreadable. “In that case, I should start paying for his keep, don’t you think?,” he said quietly. “What does it cost to board a horse these days?”

“You don’t need to do that,” she said. “Just take him home to your dad’s place. He wants to work cattle and you’ve got plenty.”

Javi shuffled his feet. “You know, maybe it’s best if you do sell him,” he mumbled.

��Why? What’s going on, Javi?” She felt a chill run down her spine. He’d been acting odd the last week or so and now this.

“Remember when I went to San Antonio a few days ago?”

“Yeah.”

“I lied to you,” he said. “I didn’t go to meet a friend for lunch while he was in town. I had a job interview.” Her heart dropped. “They called this morning. I’ve got the job if I want it.”

“And do you want it?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know. I … I told him I’d call back this afternoon with my answer.” He pushed Buster gently out of the way and laid one hand on hers. “Can we talk about it?”

She shrugged. “Sure, but I don’t think there’s much to talk about. You either want the job or you don’t.”

He squeezed her hand. “I do want the job,” he said quietly, “but I don’t know if I want it bad enough to leave here. To leave you.”

She took a deep breath. “I told you not to let me keep you from doing what you’re meant to do,” she said. “Take me out of the equation. And then make your decision.” She slipped her hand out from under his. “We’ll go from there. And no matter what, Buster is your horse. Keep him here, take him to your dad’s, sell him yourself … it’s up to you.” She turned and walked toward the house, no longer sure she could keep her face dispassionate. She’d known this day would come, but had hoped it would take longer to arrive.

**************************************************

Javi untacked Buster, brushed him down, and put him away in his stall before he headed for the house. He wanted to give Cassidy some time alone to compose herself before he talked to her. He’d seen her struggling to keep herself calm, seen the anguish in her eyes that mirrored his own.

He walked into the kitchen, where Linus was sitting hopefully next to his dish. “Not now, buddy,” Javi told the cat, who simply blinked at him. He continued into the house, and found Cassidy in the bedroom, sorting clothes from the hamper into two laundry baskets.

“Can we talk?,” he asked.

She continued tossing clothes into the baskets for a moment, then stood, her hands hanging limply at her sides. “Sure,” she said.

They sat on the bed. Javi took her hand. “It’s a brand new position at San Antonio PD,” he began. “A liaison between the PD and the juvenile courts, to set up and run an anti-drug program to keep vulnerable kids off drugs and out of jail.” He rubbed the palm of her hand with his thumb. “I’d be helping kids, Cassidy. Keeping them out of trouble, keeping them from getting shot or locked up.” He sighed.

“So you’re going,” she said.

“I want to,” he admitted. “But I don’t want to leave you. Dad says it’s only a couple of hours away, I can come home on weekends, I’ll see you both all the time, but …” He shook his head. “I don’t know if it’ll be enough. For you, I mean. I’ll be busy with work during the week, I’ll be okay, for the most part.”

“I don’t know,” she said. “Honestly, I don’t know. I’d like to think we can make it work, but I know how life gets in the way.” She leaned against his side and laid her head on his shoulder. “I know that a week will come when the weather’s bad, or you’ve had a long week, or your co-workers invite you out for drinks, or you have to work overtime, and you won’t be able to drive home. And then another week will pass and another and you’ll come back maybe once a month. And then you’ll meet someone up there, and you’ll be lonely and …”

Javi laid a finger against her lips. “Or maybe I’ll drive home every single weekend, no matter what, because I want to see you,” he said softly. “Maybe I’ll call you every night, just to hear your voice before I fall asleep. Maybe we’ll make it work.”

She sighed, her whole body shuddering against his. “I can’t go with you,” she said. “I have the horses.”

“I know,” he replied. “I wouldn’t ask you to. I know this is where you belong.” He kissed her temple. “But I love you. I’m not ready to give up on us just because I won’t be living next door anymore.”

“I love you, too,” she whispered. “But I don’t know if love is enough. I want to think it is, but I … I just don’t know.”

Javi put his arms around her, and let her cry against his shoulder. He rocked her gently back and forth until she stopped weeping. She sat up, and wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. “You should go call him back,” she said, her voice raspy. “Tell him you’re taking the job.” She kissed his cheek. “I’ll be okay. I promise.”

Javi left, but he wasn’t sure she was telling the truth.

*************************************************

Once Javi was gone, Cassidy abandoned her laundry. She went out to the barn, saddled up Cricket, and headed out for a long trail ride. Cricket was perfect company, ready to listen to her ramblings and not judge her. They wound through the brush, flushing out jackrabbits and even a deer down by the creek. Birds sang and fluttered around them, and by the time the sun was sinking into the western horizon, turning the pale blue summer sky to red and gold edged with fading purple, Cassidy’s heart felt lighter. She turned Cricket toward home and gave the mare her head.

It was dusk when they got back to the barn. She unsaddled Cricket and gave her a good rub down, then fed everyone. Finally, she went back into the house. She fed Linus, but wasn’t hungry herself. She poured a glass of sweet tea and sat down on the couch.

The phone rang but she let the machine pick up. After the beep, she heard Javi’s voice. “Hey, I guess you’re still out in the barn. Um, I called Montauk back and accepted the position. I start a week from Monday. Dad and I are going up to San Antonio next week to find me an apartment. Let me know if you want to come with us. Or not. Okay, well, call me when you get in, or if it’s too late, call me in the morning. I love you.”

The message ended and Cassidy sat in the silence of her house, the only sound Linus’ ID tag clinking against his plate, and the unsteady rhythm of her own breathing as she once again fought back tears.

[queencvbra]

I hope you’re all ready for a very angry Mari on Friday

[sillytaetime]

idol au fanfic where jeonghan and his stylist/makeup artist fall in love? slow burn, sexual tension typa thang ;) <3 !

Alright, im sorry this has taken so long, I had to get a plot going and that involved me writing, deleting, and rewriting over and over again, I made this like a short little drabble since I'm currently working on a fanfic.

Requests are open! And I welcome them, I could use some more ideas!

Warnings:// angst; Suggestive smut; not proofread

WC: approx. 590

¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤

Jeonghan walks in to rehearsals late. Again.

"Yooo Jeonghan, what happened to you?"

"The stupid doors never open for me."

"Well, Stylist noona is over there waiting for you. She doesn't seem very happy."

Jeonghan comes in late all the time. It's nothing new, it's not the reason that the Stylist is upset. Last night, Jeonghan was supposed to go on a date with her and he ended up staying late at practice, forgetting to text her that he had to cancel.

Jeonghan walks over to where she is waiting for him.

"I'm so so sorry, yeobo."

"Right now, I don't need an apology. I need you to sit down and not speak."

Yeah, that was a little awkward. Her doing his makeup and no talking. She is definitely not happy with him.

--------♤

Stylist POV

I hate being mad at Jeonghan. His smile can light up a room. The truth is, I'm not really mad about him missing the date, I get it. He's busy. I was just hoping to get some alone time so I can relieve some of the stress I'm feeling. I've been so horny lately that my fingers aren't enough.

"I really am sorry"

"Jeonghan-"

"Please, let me make it up to you. I'll take you to a really expensive dinner."

"Jeonghan-"

"Please baby I miss when we would get to cuddle all day, I just want you to forgive me-"

"JEONGHAN!"

He pauses and gets real quiet, finally letting me speak.

*speaking really fast* "I'm not mad at you for missing the date, I've just been really lonely lately and I've been missing you and your touch, I guess I'm just more upset about not seeing you because you always look so good and we haven't done it in a while. It'd actually been so long since we have... that my fingers aren't enough anymore and-"

Suddenly I feel his lips on mine.

--------♡

Jeonghan POV

She was going on and om but after I heard what she really wants that's all I could focus on. I just took action and smashed my lips on hers.

I've wanted her more than she wants me. As soon as she said those words, I felt the blood rush to my cock.

I laid her down on the couch making quick work on her neck.

"Ahh~ hannie~"

"Feel good baby?"

"Mmm fuck, yess~"

My hand travels up to her breast, groping at it. Quickly, I get impatient, ripping her shirt off her body. I pull my sheet over my head and I catch her staring.

"Like what you see baby?"

"Mmhmm"

I smashed my lips on hers as I work on the button of her jeans and throw those somewhere across the room.

"Ugh baby your so hot, it's so hard to believe your body belongs to me."

"Mmm all yours hannie."

I pulls her panties off and quickly unhooked her bra, throwing those with the other discarded clothes. As I'm taking my boxers off, S/N says...

"How did you learn to unhook bras that quickly?"

"It's a special talent."

I run my fingers along her folds.

"God your so wet. Your all ready for my cock aren't you baby"

"Mmm yes God just fuck me."

I started to push my cock into her, slowly, just to make sure I didn't hurt her. I think I could cum just from feeling her raw.

"Ahh ommmy godd~ hannie~ right there!"

"Hey, Jeonghan do you- OH OH"

I hear Mingyu slam the door shut running out to the guys.

"Fuck, ill never hear the end of this."

[kingsuckjin]

Company Policy -JJK

- Pairing: coworker Jungkook x reader

- Genre: established relationship? Sort of

- Rating:18+

- Words: 5k

- Summary: Eight months. Eight months you have regretted breaking off being fuck buddies with your hot coworker. You were so afraid of being caught with him but now that you’ve had time to think, would it really be so bad as long as you could have him all to yourself again? Does he even like you anymore? Has he moved on? All you know is it’s been eight months since you’ve had sex, he’s been all you could think about. Now he’s looking pretty hot at this office party.

- Warnings: pining, explicit content, public sex, they fuck on a coworker’s desk, public sex, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, heavy dirty talk, brief mention of oral sex and a ton of other past sexual acts like thigh riding and hair pulling, kind of jealous tattooed kook, not voyurism but someone else is there at some point, and finally a dash of fluff.

- A/n: This post is a commission for the ARMY for AAPI Justice and Advocacy Event. Please click >here< to find more resources and consider donating to the cause! Thank you so incredibly much to the donor @lcksndkys​ for donating and commissioning this, you are an absolute angel, I hope you know that. I might’ve gotten a bit carried away and wrote a few thousand more words than planned, but you deserve it. 

“Morning,” 

“Morning.” Was the greeting between you and Jungkook every morning when you stepped into the elevator, coffee in hand.

That was it, that was all you ever said to each other anymore. His smell always floated around the confined space making your mind flashback to what once was before you quickly pushed it away from your brain.

Neither of you ever said anything about it, it was like it had never even happened and sometimes you wonder if it even had or if your brain had made up everything that had happened eight months ago from your frequent dirty thoughts of your coworker. It felt like a lifetime ago. The familiarity of him, his smell, his smile, his voice along with the cold distance, avoidance to even look at you, and the constant wonder of him having someone else made you a little sick at your stomach.

You had decided to break things off… as if either of you were any more than fuck buddies. You knew that if anyone at work had ever found out about the two of you, you’d most likely both be fired. No banging other employees was a pretty strict policy there and you remembered the two nice ladies that were fired last year for it, you remembered it because your boss had made such an example of it.

You had been more than paranoid when you and Jungkook were boning for a whole month, you both had been so secretive even going as far as to have each other park down the street from your houses when the other came over. It didn’t help that you lived with your sister and didn’t want her to know you were sneaking someone in the house and screwing them. It also didn’t help that his roommate worked there too and didn’t get along at times. It didn’t seem like all the effort to sneak around was worth it at the time, but now you felt like you had a mistake.

As you took your seat behind the reception desk and began to put away your things for the morning, you just kept stealing glimpses of him doing the same at his cubicle. Every morning he would put his black messenger bag under his desk, turn on his computer, and roll the sleeves of his white button-up shirt up to reveal one very tattooed arm. His wavy hair was usually put back into a half ponytail for professionalism and probably so he could see, but there were always strands that managed to escape his hair elastic throughout the day. It was painful mentally at times having a view of him but trying not to look, it was painful knowing he wouldn’t look back at you anymore. You could still feel what it was like when he had glanced at you and smiled at you, your heart sped up at just the thought. 

“Ugh why are you always here so early, you leave before I even wake up.” his roommate,Jimin, had walked in, looking great as usual but a bit tired in the face. He was lingering around Jungkook’s desk with his things still in hand.

“I like to be prepared, unlike you.” Jungkook joked back with a smile but you knew it was just more than a joke, Jungkook really didn't care for Jimin, he was a bit too spiteful towards him sometimes.

He had always come in early, you both were typically the first ones here besides the janitor. You had to be, your boss liked you here nice and early to greet everyone as they walked in.

“You coming to the thing tonight? The boss is letting us have booze.” Jimin asked him.

You felt like you really shouldn’t be paying attention to the conversation so you went back to sipping your coffee and getting ready to start the day.

“Hey.”

It nearly scared you to death as you rummaged through your bag under the desk for your chapstick. Your body jolted up to see Jimin leaning one arm on the reception counter.

“What?” you asked in confusion, wondering what he was now doing hanging around you with such a sly smirk.

“Well good morning to you too. Are you going to the party tonight? Boss is having a thing to celebrate meeting our yearly product sales goal.”

“I… haven’t thought about it, why?” you were honest, it didn’t mean anything to you.

“I know we have this policy, but you should think about going with me.” he gave you a wink that made you raise your eyebrows in surprise. “We could come here and have a few drinks and a good time, then we could go back to my place and-”

“How about we don’t? We could just not do that.” you gave him a very fake smile.

Sudden loud coughing erupted through the room making you both look over at the source.

Jungkook was doubled over with his coffee still in his hand.

“You good?” Jimin asked him casually and Jungkook gave a thumbs up to show he was fine, even though his big eyes were slightly teary before holding up his coffee cup to signify he had strangled on his coffee.

“Anyway, if you’re worried about someone saying something about us, you could just come separately and we could just see what happens…”

“I’m not worried because there is no us, Jimin. I’ll come, but let’s not see what happens, and let’s not even speak.” 

“Your loss. At least I’ll have Jungkook there with me.” Jimin responded along with a shrug to your savage words before walking away.

You looked over to Jungkook to make sure he hadn’t died because he was no longer choking, you just wanted to make sure he was still breathing but your eyes were met with his. He was giving you this gaze before he raised his eyebrows at you with a slight momentary smirk, it all only lasted less than a split second before he adjusted his black tie and turned back around to face his desk. 

How could he be so casual with a look like that at you? How could he be so casual with everything that had happened between you? You had no idea what that look was about but it had your brain so frazzled. It could’ve been nothing, but it was the most interaction you’ve had with him in so long, all it had done was remind you how starved for him you were.

You looked down at your desk feeling your face get a little warm.

Images of that very shirt he was wearing right now, being unbuttoned rapidly with those tattooed fingers in some dark, sketchy hotel room ran through your mind. 

“I wish you knew how much I’d go through to be this close to you, to be inside of you.” The memory of his words and hushed voice into your skin gave you goosebumps.

The same man who had said that now sat right over there, not even having tried to flirt with you in the past eight months as you sat here and wondered why you do this to yourself. 

Did he still feel that way or had he just meant it at the moment? There were plenty at the moment things that he had said that would flood into your mind just to hurt you when you saw him.

You glanced at him throughout the day as you often did.

You avoided each other on your lunch break, stepping around each other to get to the vending machines in the break room.

You ate at your desk alone while he ate with Jimin in the break room.

Things were the same as they had been, the look he had given you earlier meant nothing, maybe nothing that had happened in the past meant nothing to him too.

Maybe it was all just fun like you both had planned for it to be, if so, why were you still so stuck on it? Why were you stuck on him? You told yourself it was just because he was attractive, the most gorgeous man in the office, but there were just these little things about him you couldn’t get over. The way he stretched and grunted in the morning, you knew the way he liked his coffee, you knew his parents’ names. You had both shared so much of your lives for an entire month almost constantly until you ripped it away from yourself so stupidly. You had both agreed to delete each other’s numbers, but the truth was, you still kept his name in your phone with little hearts by his name. You needed this to end, you needed to stop being so hung up on him because he wasn’t with you. You decided to go to this thing tonight and at least hope for some answers, if you failed to get any you would do your best to stop thinking about him.

------------------ 

You had talked yourself out of this more than five times already, but you had gotten dressed and ready and made the drive over.

You now sat in the office parking lot just picking lint off of your black dress, not looking forward to how awkward this might be. In your years of working there, you had mostly just kept to yourself… until the thing with Jungkook happened.

“Are you nervous? You look nervous” he gave you a little smile from across the table from the coffee shop. He had asked you to get coffee after work and he could see right through you

“A little.” You had admitted.

“Don’t be shy, it’s just me. It’s just Jungkook, we work together every day.”

“Don’t be nervous.” You found yourself saying out loud to yourself as you gazed out your windshield at the building. “I shouldn’t be. I work with him every day and nothings going to happen anyway.” You hurt yourself a little with the last part. You put a lot more care into how you looked tonight than you wanted to admit.

“It’s just a stupid office party,” you grumbled to yourself before unbuckling your seatbelt and getting out of the car, if it was horrible or boring then you could just go home.

-----

You didn’t know what you had expected, but it wasn’t this. You had followed the signs to the floor that had held a large meeting room, but it didn’t look like a meeting room now.

It was just a room full of people with a snack table and alcohol. The room was dimmed but there were some cheap party effects lighting things happening. People were laughing and talking over some pop music that wasn’t eardrum-bustlingly loud but you still had to strain to hear over. You spotted a lot of coworkers you saw every day, more that you didn’t know from different departments though. You kind of just went and stood by a wall with your eyes searching faces, not stopping too long on any just in case they might think you were staring at them. Before you had left you wondered if you had been too dressed up, but now you were glad for your little black dress as you saw what the others were wearing. Everyone looked so nice and not at all what you were used to them wearing. 

While your eyes were going over who was talking to who, you found him.

In the corner of the room on the opposite end, talking to some girl you had only seen a handful of times. She was touching her hair and smiling at him. He looked so dressed down in his ripped black jeans and a black t-shirt. His tattoos were freed as you had always liked seeing and his hair wasn’t being held back. You had seen him like this multiple times, but had anyone else? He had always looked so good like this, so himself. 

Just seeing his hair down reminded you of all the times you had grabbed at it while moaning his name. Seeing him in those black ripped jeans reminded you of all the times he has made you ride his chiseled, hard thighs until you came multiple times. 

You felt like you had been kicked in the heart as your brain went back to the present moment and saw her placing a hand on his shoulder.

He laughed at something she had said but took a step back out of her grasp smoothly before giving her a small wave. A few more words were exchanged before she apprehensively walked away from him, heaving him alone to stand at the wall on the other side of the room.

Your eyes darted away from him and over to the snack and drink table, you weren’t planning on getting any, but you wanted to make it look that way.

You felt nervous, he looked good and at least one other person had noticed. You told yourself that the lady who had just spoken to him didn’t know him as you did, she probably just saw a hot guy dressed in black with tattoos… just like you had when you both had started whatever happened. He was more than all of that, to you especially now after you had a lot of time to think about it all.

Although you didn’t want your eyes to, they had darted to him for a split second to see he had his phone out… until he looked up from it at you.

He had seen you, he had seen you looking at him from across the room, but he didn’t react. Instead, his eyes went back down to his phone, and yours went back to the table.

Your phone buzzed in your bag and you decided to fish it out thinking it could help you look busy.

“Hey, it’s Jungkook. I see you :)”

Your heart nearly jumped out of your mouth as you read the text. 

He hadn’t deleted your number just like you hadn’t his.

You felt his eyes watching you but you didn’t look up. He was waiting for your reply, but you just stood there dumbfounded that he had just sent you a text from across the room.

“I know.” you had nervously typed different versions of this reply over and over only to erase each time before settling on the most simple reply.

“You look good.” it had taken him no time to reply in comparison to you. You stood there in shock and lost as to what to say to him. You were taking too long because he sent a second text.

“I know that dress. I remember it.”

You had been hoping he would. You had worn this dress on the first night you both had ever done anything. You made out in his car after your coffee date. He had just kept telling you how pretty you looked even with his hand in your underwear. It was hard to resist him from even the first date, you had no idea how you had made it eight months now.

“You look nice too, you always have.” You typed and sent it quickly before you could change your mind.

You watched him run his inked fingers through his hair as he read the text. You could swear you saw a flash of a smile on his face before his thumbs went to work on his phone.

“I miss you.” Popped up on your screen.

Part of you felt like crying a little. You felt his eyes on you once again and you looked up away from your phone to see that your feeling had been correct. You were sure your mouth was open as you locked eyes from across the room. Your phone vibrated again in your hand.

“We should talk.”

“Hey, gorgeous!” Jimin stepped in front of you making you lock your phone. “I know you said let’s not talk but-“

“Then why are you talking to me?”

“How could I not? You’re the prettiest one here.” He smirked but you could smell the alcohol on his breath. You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes.

“Oh hey! I’ve been looking for you!” Jungkook now walked up with a smile at you. “You found her for me and didn’t even know I was looking, thanks, man.” Jungkook seemed to be thanking an equally confused as you Jimin.

“Sorry to bother you about work stuff at a party, but I forgot to earlier. I need the contact info to a client I’ve been working on to sell more products to. It’s wild, it’s like I went to the bathroom one day and the info to this big buyer just kinda… disappeared I guess. So weird, almost like someone has it out for me.” Jungkook gave the fakest joking laugh you had ever seen and Jimin looked a bit wide-eyed. “Anyway, You’re the receptionist so I know you have the contact info for everyone anyway so I was wondering if you could maybe help me out and get it for me? It’s kind of really important and I need it ASAP. Already asked the boss and he said it was cool.” 

Jimin had just kind of slinked off silently, but you knew what Jungkook was doing.

“Yeah, Uh of course.” You nodded.

He tilted his head in the direction of the door before you followed him out.

He led you towards the elevator in absolute silence and even as he pushed the button for the floor you both worked on he said nothing.

You were beginning to think he was wanting your help. And then you thought about it more in the silent ride and you felt so stupid. Of course he was wanting your help, he had never said he actually didn’t, not even when Jimin had walked away.

“I can’t believe that asshole sabotaged me like that. My roommate sabotaged my sale.” He mumbled before scoffing as the elevator door opened.

“I-I’ll help.” You said but he passed right by your desk.

“I’m glad you said that.” He replied as he walked over to Jimin’s cubicle.

“What are we doing?” You finally asked.

“Depends…” he raised an eyebrow as he looked back at you. “What do you want me to do?” 

You swallowed the lump of nervousness in your throat to speak as you looked into his mischievous-looking dark eyes.

“Whatever you want I guess.”

He lifted you in almost an instant and sat you on Jimin’s desk.

“You know he’s always liked you, right? He would tell on us if he ever found out. You were willing to risk it, right here right now?” He dared.

Instead of speaking you grabbed a fist full of his t-shirt and tugged him down until his lips met yours.

God did you want it. You have wanted for eight long months. You were willing to risk everything after so long without his lips on yours.

You were still nervous but his kiss brought it all back for you and how natural it felt.

“Fuck me.” You pleaded against his lips.

“You need it? Tell me you need it.” His lips moved to your neck as he ran a hand through the back of your hair.

“Ah, fuck I need it. I haven’t fucked anyone since you.” It slipped out of your mouth and got a second your body went rigid.

“Me neither.” He nipped at your neck.

The second thing he had done tonight that had stunned you.

“Wait.” You stopped him and he backed up to look at you.

“I missed you too. Not just… not just this, I missed you. I don’t know if you feel the same but-“

“What did you think I meant by I missed you? I didn’t just mean the sex or your body. I meant you as a person.” 

“I-why didn’t you just say?” You wondered out loud. 

He dropped to the floor on his knees between your legs.

“Cause you dumped me.” He let out a snort “you told me to delete your number, which surprise, I didn’t. You wouldn’t look at me. Plus this went two ways you know. You didn’t contact me either.” He stated as he looked up at you while ghosting his fingers over the skin of your thighs as he spoke.

“I dumped you?” You were surprised by this news. You know neither of you had had the relationship talk before.

“I mean, I like to think we were together.”

“Then we should be again,” you decided. You were tired of wanting him and not having him and something told you that he felt the same.

“I think so too,” he whispered, inching his lips closer and closer to yours before smashing into them.

His hands squeezed at the meat of your thighs before trailing them up the sides, up under your skirt, and hooking them in your panties. Your tongues whipped together in each other’s mouths. You managed to move so that he could get your panties down, but he only pulled them to your knees. He grabbed your hips and pulled you closer to the edge of the table, so close you thought you might fall off if he wasn’t right there between your legs. 

His fingers now slowly ran from your inner thighs to your folds. As soon as he touched you, you unlocked your lips from his and let out a shaky breathed whine.

“I can tell you missed me. You're so wet for me,” he whispered so quietly just for you to hear even though no one else was in the room.

You did your best to stay quiet as his fingers teasingly and slowly ran over your clit and back down to your cunt.

He lifted his slick fingers to his mouth and you watched with a slightly open mouth as he let them slide past his lips and then out of his mouth altogether, coming out more glossy from his spit.

“I missed the way you taste”

His even more wet fingers that now teased at your pussy were making you want to grab his hand and force it to do something more. You were practically shaking under even the slightest of his touches. You were nervous for someone to walk in at any given moment and all he was doing was drawing things out and letting his fingers kill precious time playing in your folds.

“I'd love to make you cum right now with my mouth” he pressed a kiss onto your neck where his face had been camping out while his fingers tortured you. “But I know how that makes you scream and we have to be very…” another kiss to your neck “very” his fingers finally slowly slipped into your cunt “very quiet.” his whispers tapered off to quieter and quieter, so much so that your shaking breaths felt loud between the both of you.

You were doing your best not to break out into full-blown moans so that maybe if someone walked in you could play it off as just talking or something else, as long as no one heard your moans on the way up the both of you could have time to look normal. 

His fingers curled inside of you with his palm grinding down onto your clit slowly.

“Oh God.” you breathed not knowing how you were supposed to survive this. He was all you wanted for months upon months and now that you had him here, tattooed hand knuckle deep in your pussy, his lips on your skin saying nothing but filth, you felt like you couldn't even let go as much as you wanted to, but you were trying.

His hand sped up its movements as you could feel how hard he was now in his jeans against the inside of your thigh.

Your lips squeezed together but it couldn’t stop the small whimpers he forced out of you. You could hear him breathing in your ear along with the wet sounds of your pussy. You were close but so scared. Doing this out in the open was such a thrill but it also made you paranoid. 

“Cum for me. I hear the way you’re whining, you’re so close I know it. Just cum for me. Cum around my fingers, no one will know.” 

You couldn’t stop it now.

You grabbed a hold of his shirt and forced his chest harder against yours, you wanted him closer, impossibly close as you came undone, clenching around his fingers rhythmically as each wave of pleasure pulsed through your body. 

He let out a little moan at the sound and feel of you coming. 

“I missed that too.” He whispered to himself before pulling his fingers out of you slowly.

He reached between you and you felt him quickly yet nervously fiddling with his button and zipper with his hand that wasn’t soaked in your wetness.

He made a show about taking his thick, veiny cock out of his pants and rubbing your juices from his hand over it. 

In seconds he was back in your ear.

“Can I fuck your brains out?” The whisper was soft, his voice was sweet but the words themselves were as hard as his dick he still stroked in his hand.

“You're always allowed brains out.” You whispered back “just do it.” 

You felt his head run over your folds teasingly as he continued to play with you and himself.

“Do you still think about me fucking your brains out?” He asked. You could hear how much wetness had spread from you to his cock with each pump of his hand.

“Every time I need to get off.” You admitted. “So give it to me so I don’t have to keep wishing anymore.” 

He pushed into you slowly, letting out a deep sigh and throwing his head back for a moment so you could see his perfectly sculpted throat.

You missed how full he made you feel while he was inside of you. 

He pulled out almost entirely, the head of his cock was the only thing left inside of you, pushing on your g-spot before the thrust back in hard. This was the way he fucked, pulling out almost entirely so his head hit where you needed it. You had experienced guys that just flopped around, but he knew you, he knew your body, he paid attention, he had a very special handcrafted way to get you off over and over until you were shaking.

One of his hands grabbed your hip while the other went to your clit to play with using his thumb.

“You miss this, baby?” You miss my dick between your legs?” His lips brushed with your parted and panting ones as he spoke.

You let out a whimper as you focused on your second orgasm, his hips were not letting up and neither was his lips that whispered pure filth.

“Want me to cum inside of you, make you not want to forget me and who you belong to? Right here on Jimin's desk.” 

Your eyes squeezed shut and you clutched at the fabric of his shirt as you were once again thrown into pure pleasure.

You couldn’t help it this time. The way he touched you, the way he felt inside of you, his grunts and words were all too much.

“Please, fucking cum inside of me, I want it all fuck you feel so good.” You cried out way too loudly. 

“Oh my god, fuck.” He breathed through pants as his hips pounded into yours. You felt him release inside of you. Your walls clenched around him upon hearing his long deep guttural moan. 

“I haven’t cum like that in…” he panted before letting out a little chortle of laughter “well in eight months.” 

“So,” there was a loud voice in the room making your heads turn and your stomach’s sink. “You fucked on my desk.” Jimin looked beyond angry as he sat in an office chair across the room with his phone in his hand, pointing it at the both of you. You had no idea when or how he had come in, but you knew you were both beyond physically fucked.

Jungkook had already scrambled to pull out of you and zip his pants back up as you jumped off the desk, pulled your underwear up, and smoothed out your dress.

“That's fine, I have you both on video. I really liked you y/n. Jungkook, Looks like I’m moving out.” he stood from the chair and headed towards the direction of the elevator. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to speak to our boss about this. He probably won't be too happy to see you two are breaking company policy.” 

“Fuck company policy and fuck you! You were an awful friend, roommate and you've always been jealous of me!” Jungkook yelled at him back.

“Not anymore, jobless.” Jimin turned back to give Jungkook a smirk before he stepped into the elevator.

With that, you were both just left there.

“I… I am so so sorry…” Jungkook began apologetically and just as stunned as you were.

“Don’t be, we’re too good for this job anyway, we can find new ones. It looks like you need a new roommate now though.” 

You watched his face as a small smile grew on it.

“Yeah, looking for someone prettier and nicer, maybe someone willing to be my girlfriend? I don't know though, I don’t want to make too many demands.” 

“Well I could meet all of those demands.” you played along. “We won't have to sneak around anymore.”

“Yes, please, yes. I uh- don't want to ruin the cute moment, but I think we should get out of here before Jimin brings the boss up.”

“Oh fuck, right. Uhh, we should probably just never come back too. Let’s just grab our stuff from our desks and make a run for it.”

“Let's go. You know, this is simultaneously the best, worst, most exciting, and most embarrassing thing that's ever happened to me,” he said and you couldn't help but laugh and agree.

Maybe the both of you had made a big mistake, but perhaps there could be good that came from it. You had him back and honestly you didn’t feel too bad about trading your dumb job with its dumb company policy for him.

[yourtamaki]

history doesn’t repeat, it rhymes

sakusa x gn!reader

word count: 4.1k

warnings: angst, hurt/comfort, elements of depersonalization, non-explicit mentions of sex

dedicated to: @onyxoverride (thank you for beta reading) & @saintdabi

you can’t remember the last time you saw your reflection.

it wasn’t deliberate, the way you turned your back to the full length mirror in your closet every morning when you got dressed, how you usually dodged your reflection coming out of the shower like you did just now. at least, not at first. not until you realized how much better you felt now that you didn’t have to come face to face with a stranger everyday. that was the only word to describe whatever lived in the mirror. a stranger. any recognizable part of you had rotted away long ago. all that remained now was an empty husk with dead eyes and a selfish heart. the same selfish heart that set you on this path in the first place. 

was it worth it? you wanted to ask your past self. was his love worth what you did to yourself?

the very first night you met sakusa set the tone for the rest of your relationship. you’re still not entirely sure why you accepted your roommate, hinata’s, invitation to his team’s party to celebrate their record win streak. it probably had something to do with the puppy dog eyes he threw you. regardless, you went, wearing an outfit you were losing confidence in by the second and leaning against a wall as far from the drunk crowd as you could get. you never liked parties like this. too many people, too loud. but for your best friend, you were willing to grit your teeth and bare it. 

a part of you, larger than you would ever admit, wishes you never looked to your left that day. wishes that you never spotted the curly haired man looking so sullen despite half his face being covered with a mask, that you didn’t notice the way his eyes flickered from his empty red cup to where you knew the kitchen to be, how he wearily eyed the crowd of people that separated him from it. 

“i was about to grab a drink. i can bring something back for you if you’d like?” the first thing you ever said to the love of your life was a lie. you were planning on staying tucked in your corner all night, safe from the dancing drunks who had no concept of personal space until hinata was ready to leave. and yet the words were almost ripped out of you the moment your eyes landed on him, a fierce need to help the man flaring up from nowhere. you could only assume he had separated himself from the party for the same reason you had and it pulled on your heartstrings. no one ever noticed when you needed help so why not extend that courtesy to him instead? he blinked at you as though he had to process your offer before he nodded. 

“yes, please i’d appreciate it.” his voice was different than you expected it to be. slow and calm despite the way his fist clenched and unclenched.  “just water. a closed bottle if you can find it.” 

his brows furrowed for a moment when you held out your hand before letting out a quiet ah and handing you his empty cup. it was endearing how he placed it in your hand, balancing it carefully on your palm. 

“be right back.” you shot him a smile and started to make your way across the floor, getting pushed and jostled the entire way there. you made quick work of tossing the garbage into the overflowing trash bag and dug out two water bottles from behind a rack of beer cans in the fridge. the trip back was no easier and you breathed a sigh of relief when you were once again in your small private bubble with the man. the discomfort you endured, the skin crawling sensation of all those bodies too close to you was worth the way his eyes lit up when he saw you’d returned. 

he accepted the cool bottle with a murmured thanks, pulling his mask down and tucking it under his chin. handsome was your first thought and his name was your second. the two distinct moles on his brow should’ve given it away that you were talking to sakusa kiyoomi. you’d seen enough of hinata’s games, heard enough stories to put a name to the face. he held your stare as you placed him in your mind, taking a sip from the bottle as he did. an urge to say something, anything to keep those eyes on you bubbled up hot and fast and you said the first thing that came to mind. 

“my roommate’s your teammate.” 

“is he? which one?” 

“hinata. shoyo.” you added as though there was another hinata on the msby roster.

“ah. my condolences.” the corner of his lips quirked up when you snorted. “i’ve seen how he leaves a locker room. i don’t want to imagine what his room looks like.” 

“it’s not pretty, that’s for sure.” you said, leaning your shoulder against the wall and taking a moment to regard him. “can i ask why you’re here? shoyo told me you don’t like crowds so a party must be hard on you.” 

“would you believe me if i said contractual obligations?” 

“nope cause i helped shoyo go through his contract and i don’t remember ragers being a part of the deal.” a small burst of pride bloomed in your chest when he laughed, a quick huff from his nose and amused eyes as though he didn’t expect it. 

“you got me.” you waited for him to explain and deflated a bit when he remained silent. that is, until you followed where his eyes had wandered. it was easy to spot hinata from across the party. he sat high above the rest of the crowd on bokuto’s shoulders, leaning back occasionally to test bokuto’s reaction time and giggling every time he was caught at the last moment. meian was trying in vain to pull the ginger down while atsumu seemed to be on facetime with someone recording the whole thing, his loud laughter ringing out clearly over the music. 

“you’re here for them?” you said just as the realization dawned on you. sakusa twitched, so small you wouldn’t have noticed if you hadn’t been watching him so closely. 

“spending time with your teammates promotes better gameplay on the court.” 

“i’m sure it does. but wanting to hang out with your friends isn’t a crime.” 

“we are hanging out. i’m here, aren’t i? if they wanted to talk to me, they know where to find me.” the bitterness in his tone wasn’t enough to mask the acceptance behind his words, of being resigned to his fate as the forgotten one. 

“well, i found you.” he looked over at you, something unreadable swimming behind his eyes before they softened.

“yeah. you did. you know, you’ve talked a lot about shoyo but i don’t know anything about you. i don’t even know your name.” he said. heat raced to your cheeks, flustered that he seemed to be paying as much attention to you that you were to him.

“i didn’t even notice, sorry.” you said before offering your name. he repeated it back, once, twice, rolling it around on his tongue and you watched his mouth, mesmerized by how it curled around a word you’ve heard your whole life until it sounded new again. he spoke your name in a soft, hushed whisper and you wondered if his lips would feel just as soft. half-lidded, his gaze flickered downwards like he was wondering the same thing.

the rest of the night was a blur in your mind. all you could recall was that you chatted with sakusa until the others found you and you drove a passed-out hinata home with a new contact saved to your phone.  

the reminiscing left you drained, clutching your phone in your hands, the screen frozen on that same contact as you collapsed into bed and yet you couldn’t stop the rest of the memories from flooding through your mind, the truth you’ve been holding off for too long. you’ve picked at a festering wound that was best left alone. if you didn’t think too hard about it, if you ignored how it grew and ate away at you, it wouldn’t hurt as much. right? but it was too late. you’ve pulled the string and now you’re left to deal with your own unraveling. 

you scrolled through your texts for what feels like a lifetime, the entirety of your relationship flashing by and disappearing in an instant until you could scroll no higher. of course you sent the first text. a formal message that didn’t look anything like how you actually text with one too many exclamation points in your desperation to come across friendly. 

your fingers moved across the screen and when your mind caught up, your thumb was hovering over the button to delete the entire conversation. you never wanted to see evidence of who you used to be ever again. you didn’t want to be reminded of the person you cut and broke and killed until they fit into sakusa’s neat life. but sentimentality stilled your hand, the phone dropping from your limp fingers and crashing to the floor. you didn’t bother reaching for it.

the accursed memories refuse to let you be, another bobbing up to the surface from the murky depths and pulling you under before you could stop it. one that showed what little agency you had in your own life.

it started the way it always did. you noticed him. noticed how tired he was every time you spoke. how you went from going out on dates to always staying in to maybe being lucky enough to say good night over the phone before he crashed for the day. and sure, you were lonely. so starved for him it ached. but that was overshadowed by your worry for him. you would lay awake wondering if he’d remember to eat that day, if he had the energy to clean his apartment and if he didn’t, how much was that adding to his stress? 

so you swung by his place the next morning after he had left for practice, spent the day cleaning, restocked his fridge and were nearly done making dinner when he returned. his exhaustion was truly hammered home when he walked straight past the kitchen on autopilot before doubling back, tilting his head at you in confusion. 

“what are you doing here, darling?” 

“helping out.” you turned back to the stove and busied yourself with mindless stirring, afraid that you’d been too eager and overstepped. “you seemed pretty tired these days so i wanted to do something for you but you’re back earlier than i expected so i can just go if you want to be alone just let me-” 

your rambling was cut off when a force barrelled into you and sakusa hugged you tight from behind, head buried in the crook of your shoulder. all at once, whatever anxiety had been growing fled you and you relaxed into his touch. 

“thank you.” it wasn’t the words that made your heart leap to your throat. it was the sincerity, the slight crack at the end that told you he had more he wanted to say but didn’t know how. 

you fell into a routine of going over to his apartment, looking after things, kissing him when he returned and staying over at night. at first, it was once a week. then over the weekend, then every other day. 

“you should move in.” even though you half expected your relationship to take this next step, it still took you by surprise the casual way sakusa brought it up. you weren’t entirely sure if you wanted to move in with him just yet. you built a home with hinata and that apartment meant everything to you, all your happiest memories were made there and oh no sakusa was still waiting for an answer.  

“i should?”

“yeah.” 

and that was the end of it. you were packed and out of hinata’s apartment (because it was his now. his and atsumu’s. not yours, it’ll never be yours again) by the end of the month. most of your things didn’t come with you but that was fine, right? so what if you still felt like a guest in your home even to this day with none of yourself being reflected in the apartment? you got to wake up to see the love of your life every day and that made everything worth it. 

until you started waking up alone.  

extra training, he said. the team drafted new players and he had to get used to their play style, he said. and you believed him, trusted that he’d be home with you if he could. so you took the crushing loneliness and swallowed it down like a bitter pill. you smiled wide when he came home late with only the moon to light your bedroom and let him use your body to rid the stress of the day.

the dead of night was the only time you’d have him all to yourself. you could be greedy for his attention when he was buried inside you. it was easy to pretend you clawed up and down his back because you were caught up in the moment and not because you were desperate to keep him close to you. easy to pretend the tears in your eyes were from pleasure and not from how much you missed his voice. 

and when he was empty and spent, you would stroke his hair until he fell asleep and then, only then, would you whisper all the things you couldn’t tell him during the day. small, meaningless anecdotes that you knew would earn you a wry smile if he was awake to hear them, the one he used when he didn’t want to let on how close he was to laughing. the stolen moments were a salve on your fractured heart but it was never enough to heal it. in the end, when you were once again alone in your too-wide bed, it only served to remind you just how deep the cracks were. 

maybe that’s where you went wrong. you gave away your heart to someone and got nothing in return, nothing to plug up the all-consuming void in your chest. there was nothing left of you. no, that wasn’t quite true. there was nothing good left of you. you gave him your best parts and all you had now was pure resentment that burned hot and fierce in your core, so acidic it ate everything in its path. it burned away the dredges of your soul until all you could do was allow it to climb up and scorch your throat in a silent scream. 

another memory. it’s strange what your brain chose to latch onto as you spiralled. on the surface, you remember this to be a happier time. but as it overtook you, you’re reminded almost violently that the edges of this memory are stained with the early decay of your identity. 

before the early mornings and late nights, before you got into the habit of staring at your ceiling and wondering how you got to that point, you and sakusa had a tradition. you’d both find something, a story, a movie, that you think the other doesn’t know and share it with them. that day sakusa came to you with the myth of orpheus and eurydice. 

he told you the story of a man so in love with his wife he journeys to the underworld after she dies to find her, how hades tells him he can guide her to the land of the living but orpheus must trust that eurydice is following him. if he turns around, eurydice’s fate is sealed. sakusa explained how in every version of the myth, orpheus turned around at the very end out of an uncontrollable, unfiltered love for his wife. whether it was because he was excited to see the end of the tunnel and wanted to share his joy with her or because he feared she got lost, either one stems from the love he has for her. the love that sent him to find her is the same love that doomed her in the end. but the more sakusa spoke about orpheus, the more you wondered about the other protagonist of the story. 

“why didn’t eurydice try to let orpheus know she was there? she could’ve held his hand or touched his back or something.” you asked. you were laying your head on sakusa’s chest, letting the low rumble wash over you as he read you the tale. the question had been bugging you as the story came to its conclusion though you couldn’t place your finger as to why.

“she was a spirit. she would pass right through him.” 

“yeah but…” you searched for the words to explain your confusion. “she didn’t even try.” 

“it wouldn’t have mattered either way.” 

you opened your mouth to press the issue further, too stubborn to let it go just yet when you heard sakusa sigh out of his nose. it was enough for any question to die on your tongue and all that came out was a quiet, “i guess so.” 

it was a nothing memory. an empty thing to remind you of better times that you’ve had no need to look back on. so why did that moment swirl around your head now, as you crumbled in your lowest moments? scattered pieces start to form together in the recesses of your mind but before you could call them forth to make a full image, the bedroom door swung open and sakusa walked in. 

for once, you don’t slip on your well worn porcelain mask. you don’t school your expression and force it to mold into something that couldn’t quite be called happy. instead, you sat up straight in bed, held his gaze and did nothing to hide the maelstrom of hurt that raged inside you. a sick satisfaction shot through your veins when his steps faltered at the force of your stare. 

“what’s wrong?” he asked. 

what isn’t? you thought but instead said, “nothing. i was just thinking. about us.” 

“oh.” his eyes are already sliding away from you, a quiet detachment in his voice that made you grind your teeth in frustration. 

“remember that greek story you told me about?” 

“mhmm.” 

“tell me again why eurydice didn’t reach out.” there it is again. a short, sharp exhale from his nose. he opened his mouth but you spoke before he could. “humour me.”

“she was dead, darling. she couldn’t touch him, he couldn’t hear her so there was no point.” 

“no point? there was no point in trying to tell orpheus that she was behind him? he climbed into the underworld for her and she couldn’t try?” 

“could you--?” he cut himself off and pinched the bridge of his nose. “it’s late. i’m exhausted and really not in the mood so can we go to bed?” 

“doesn’t that sound familiar?” you continued as though he hadn’t spoken. “one person bending heaven and hell for the person they love while the other can’t even meet them halfway. remind you of anything?” 

now you had his full attention. his brows scrunched together and you’re not sure if he’s trying to figure out the meaning behind your words or the reason for your hostile tone. you don’t feel like helping him out either and instead watched the gears turn in his head with something akin to glee. it’s his turn to be paranoid, to overthink, to pick apart every moment of your relationship and dissect it piece by rotted piece. 

“please don’t be vague. if you’re upset with me, tell me.” it was the most emotion you’ve heard from him in so long, you were taken aback for a moment. 

“i’m a bit past ‘upset’, omi.”

“i’m sorry.”

you scoffed. “you don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” 

“you’re hurt and it’s my fault. that's enough for me to say sorry.” 

“you don’t understand.” he crossed the room in three large strides, sitting on the edge of the bed to leave space between you. 

“then help me understand.” 

you floundered for the right words to explain the mountain of revelations you’ve uncovered and settled for, “how do i take my coffee, kiyoomi?” 

he took your use of his full name in stride. “black. one sugar.” 

“no that’s how you take your coffee. that’s the only way you ever make coffee. i had to learn to like it.” 

“what, you’re mad i don’t know how you like your coffee?” you know he didn’t mean anything by it, that’s he's always been more blunt that he means to be but it doesn’t stop you from feeling patronized and the hurt loosened your tongue. 

“it’s not about the coffee! it’s not about the fact that eurydice was a ghost. it’s the effort, omi. you haven’t put an ounce of effort into this relationship. i’m the one who has to bend. i’m the one that has to change, it’s never you.” 

“i never asked you to.” the truth of the statement knocked the air out of your lungs. because that's the worst part, isn’t it? you have no one to blame your misery on but yourself. 

“i don’t know how to love you without sacrificing pieces of myself. and i’m empty, kiyoomi, i've given you all of me. and it feels like you’ve given me nothing in return.”  

his head was bowed while he listened but from how tight he laced his fingers together, you know he was fighting to stay calm. “you know i love you, right?”

“do you? do you love me or love that i’m convenient? love that i clean your place and make you food and have a hole you can--” 

“stop.” you didn’t know it was possible for so much heartbreak to be packed into a single word. it sobered you of your venom and in its place, shame came rushing in. 

“i’m sorry. i'm pissed at myself for letting it get this far and i’m taking it out on you. i don’t regret loving you. but it feels like that’s the only thing living inside me. like i’m not even a person anymore.”

“i should’ve noticed. it shouldn’t have taken you snapping for me to realize what was going on.” 

“maybe.” 

silence, suffocating silence, stretched and morphed time until it felt like you’ve aged a decade in a moment. and then sakusa spoke.

“you’ll help a stranger just because they look like they might need it and ask for nothing in return. you’ll make someone food just so you can be sure they ate that day. you’ll tell me about your day while i fall asleep and i don’t think i could sleep without hearing your voice. you’re kind and too selfless for your own good and the best person i’ve ever met. it kills me that i’ve been the cause of your pain.”

it was strange hearing those traits spun in a good light when you’ve thought of them negatively for so long. strange knowing where you saw faults he saw things worth admiring. “you hear me at night?” 

“and you like focusing on minor details. yes, darling. every night.” 

“oh.” 

“i understand if you need… space, if you want to spend some time apart. but give me a chance. please. give me a chance to prove how important you are to me. i’m sorry that i’ve failed you. i’m sorry i've been taking you for granted. but that ends now. never again. 

“and i can help you, too. i can remind you of all the parts you say you’ve lost. i’ll tell you all about the person i fell in love with everyday if you need it. i’d never run out of things to say. please. you found me once, let me return the favour and help you find yourself. if-if you’ll have me.” 

his small speech wasn’t the reason tears stung the back of your eyes. as he finished speaking, sakusa reached out across the space between you and offered you his hand. a lifeline that you took, the lump in your throat to keeping everything you wanted to say stuck inside you. thankfully, you needed no words for sakusa to understand you. he brought your joined fingers to his lips and let out a shaky breath against them. the two of you stayed like that for a small eternity, drifted apart yet holding together with a bridge to link you. you’ve been fueled by resentment and anger for so long, you weren’t sure if you were strong enough to let them go. but you did know that you didn’t want to try without him by your side. 

[foli-vora]

more than words, pt.5

masterlist

A/N: thank you so much for your patience! Honestly I struggled so hard with this chapter and I don’t know why, I wrote and deleted things so many fucking times (overthinking, as usual), so I hope this lives up to your expectations! ☺️ and thank you for all of your love for this fic—you��ve all truly made my heart explode! 🥰 also, really sorry if I’ve missed any tags! Okay, here we go!

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catish’ Morales x f!reader

Word count: lmao... just under 5.6k I’m sorry

Warnings: okay, let’s see... swearing, ✨ smut—finally ✨ 18+, no minors! fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving) unprotected p in v sex (wrap before you tap people), masturbation (f), cum shot, cum eating, Frankie’s a messy pussy eater and no I will not be taking constructive criticism because he’s a thirsty man and you know I’m right. I think that’s it! (please let me know if there’s something I should add!)

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.3 / pt.4 / pt.6

+

Fuck. He was really here.

He was really here, in the dim lighting of your tiny apartment, hands buried in his pockets as he watches you shuffle on the spot.

Well shit. Now what?

“Um, so... this is my apartment.” Duh—you idiot.

You frown a little at yourself, palms clamming up with nerves. Your usual moves had all but vanished from your mind. You used to be good at this, so fucking good, but now, with Frankie standing right in front of you in all of his fucking glorious flannelette perfection, you felt a little out of your depth.

How did this shit usually go? You can’t remember. Fuck, you can’t remember. How did you get from point A to point B? Shit. You’re going to embarrass yourself. You can feel it. Oh my god, are you sweating?

Oblivious to your inner turmoil, his gaze flickers around at your words, taking in the many small personal details that make the space your own which he had missed earlier, before landing back on you, eyes darkening as your tongue slips out and runs along your bottom lip.

“It’s nice.” He comments, voice coming out a lot huskier than normal. You can’t help but clench in response, insides twisting pleasantly as his raspy tone settles in your ears.

“Can I—can I get you anything? Coffee?”

Stop. This is ridiculous. The both of you were damn near close to combusting in the truck and now you’re offering coffee? You might as well just show him his way out.

He senses your nerves then, relieved he wasn’t the only one seemingly unsure of how to move this along, but keeps his eyes on you, testing the waters as he speaks, “Maybe in the morning.”

Well, fuck. Okay then.

You swallow, chest heaving slightly as you inhale, heart fluttering away in your chest. God, just kiss him. You don’t need a build-up, just do it. You could feel the ghost of his previous kisses along your lips, could feel the heat of his hands run across your body from when he had pressed you up against the windmill. You needed it all again.

It’s quiet as you both study each other, lost in feeling of growing arousal as your clock ticks slowly somewhere in the background, and then something just snaps.

You both jump forward at the same time, Frankie’s arms immediately wrapping around your waist and bringing you flush against his body while your hands tangle in his hair, tugging sharply and pulling a low groan from him as his lips eagerly mash against yours.

The strength that you meet each other with throws you both off balance, and you stumble into your dining table, breathing a quiet chuckle at the apology he mutters against your lips. You shift to sit on the edge of it, widening your thighs to make room for him as he steps closer and presses his hips tightly against yours.

Your hands shake as you desperately attack the buttons of his flannelette shirt, all but ripping the damn thing down his arms when it eventually parts, and making a small noise of impatience when your hands slide along cotton instead of skin. He briefly pulls away from your mouth, hands quick to tug the plain t-shirt he had worn underneath his shirt up and off his torso, melting back into you the second he drops it to the floor.

Holy shit.

His skin is warm and smooth under your palms as they hungrily feel along his chest and dip along his stomach, grabbing desperately at his waist when his tongue slides into your mouth. He responds eagerly to your touch, pushing your dress up and out of the way to run his hands along on the bare skin of your legs. They stop just below the line of your panties, his thumbs tracing along the inside of your thighs and smoothing dangerously close to your covered pussy.

He feels your muscles move under his touch, feels the whimper fall from your mouth and into his when he squeezes your thighs. Your hips roll forward automatically, needing his touch to go just that little bit higher.

“Please touch me,” you plead quietly, lashes fluttering as you gaze up at him and his chest tightens.

His fingers are quick to move the lace aside and fuck—

He watches your face with open wonder; watches how your eyes close when his fingers lightly trace over you, watches how your breath catches when his thumb swipes through your arousal and spreads it over your swollen clit, rubbing soft insistent circles that have your toes curling in your shoes.

“Frankie—”

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs against the skin of your throat, tongue circling over your pulse point before his nose trails up and along your jaw, pressing a kiss at the corner of your lips while your face pinches in pleasure, brows burrowing and grip tightening on his arms.

“More… please—”

He hums lowly, a finger soon swiping through your folds and prying at your entrance, sliding into the wet heat of your pussy with no resistance. You’d been ready for hours, practically dripping for him the second he first laid his hands on you. Your breath catches when he curls it, curious and searching, his lips twisting into a smug grin when your back suddenly arches, a startled cry falling from your lips.

“There we go.” And then he’s pressing soft kisses along your temple, adding a second finger into the mix and thrusting steadily, grinding his palm along your clit as he does so.

He drags it out and you hate that you fucking love it.

With the patience of a saint, he works you slowly, more than happy to drag out your pleasure as long as he likes. He holds you close with his spare hand supporting the back of your neck as you arch into him, lips never straying too far from yours as his fingers drive you closer and closer to the edge.

And then he changes something, moves his fingers just the right way, and it hits you out of nowhere.

Slamming into you like a freight train, the blissful torture hits its peak, and then you’re crashing down, nails digging into his arms as your pussy gushes around him and he’s quickly leaning in, swallowing the cry that flies from your lips.

His fingers slow before he gently pulls them out and then your hands are desperately reaching for his face, teeth clashing slightly as your mouths meet harshly.

“Bedroom?” He mutters hoarsely, throbbing in his jeans and aching to spread you out somewhere more comfortable, to see and feel more of you properly.

It takes a moment for your mind to catch up and register what he says, but when it does, you’re slipping off the table onto unsteady feet and grabbing his hand, stumbling in your haste to get to your room. He works the dress from your body on the way, hands eagerly spreading across the newly bared skin as you spin in his arms, meeting his lips as he backs you to the bed.

“My turn?” You question sweetly against his mouth, hands trailing lightly over the bulge digging into you before landing on his belt, fingers making quick work of the buckle.

He grins, stilling your hands. “Not even close—get on the bed.”

As soon as your ass meets the bedding, he’s on his knees in front of you, warm hands smoothing up along the soft skin of your legs and gently spreading your thighs. You brush a stray curl from his forehead softly as you recline onto your elbow, fingers gently trailing along the side of his face as he smiles at you, turning to kiss your palm softly before his hands are greedily grabbing at your panties and pulling them down your legs.

There’s no working up to it this time… no patience, no soft strokes.

Frankie dives in like a man starved, fingers digging into the flesh of your thighs as he spreads your legs and licks a long, wide strip along your pussy. You feel him groan against you, your hips squirming on the bed as he tries to pull you closer against his mouth, tongue probing at your pussy and hungrily lapping up the mess he had made of you on the table.

Your hand moves to wind into his soft hair, whimpers falling from your mouth as his facial hair tickles at your thighs and tongue rubs relentless strokes over your clit.

Body still strung out and sensitive from the orgasm he had all but ripped from you before, it doesn’t take long for the gentle strokes of his tongue to build another, your stomach clenching as he tightens his hands, feeling the unsteady shake of your legs in his hold.

You dance precariously on the edge, stomach clenching in anticipation. “Frankie, I—fuck—I’m—”

His mouth works you faster, “Fuck, please—”

You shatter at his softly spoken plea, back arching and hand tightening into a fist as you tug harshly at his hair, crying out and drowning the sound of his own groan as you flood his mouth. He takes everything you give him, tongue diving to push into your pussy as you ride out and come down from your high. He pulls off of you with a small pant, licking his lips and brushing his chin with the back of his hand.

You make a small noise of contentment, “Thank you.”

He chuckles quietly, grinning at the look of blissed out mortification that washes your face following your words as he climbs over you. “You’re welcome.”

You grind your hips against his when he presses into you, hissing when your sensitive clit rubs against the rough denim, but your message gets across loud and clear, Frankie’s eyes darkening as he moves in to kiss you slowly. He breaks away for a brief moment to kick his jeans off, and then he’s covering you again, warm body pressing you into the mattress.

“I have a—”

You make a noise of refusal, hands reaching around to grab at his back to keep him on top of you. “Wanna feel you… ‘m safe—”

He can’t help the small groan that falls from his lips, nodding as he dives in for another kiss. “Me too—”

You whimper when he shifts his hips, slotting further between your thighs. He slides the head of his cock between your slick folds, slowly rocking back and forth across your clit and your chest heaves in anticipation, eyes falling shut when you feel him start to slowly slide into you. Fucking finally—

He fills you slowly, cock rubbing deliciously against your walls and you arch into him when he finally bottoms out, his face falling to rest in the curve of your shoulder. He shudders under your hands when he pulls out, thrusting softly into you and cursing quietly when your pussy flutters around him.

You whine, “Fuck. You feel so—”

He doesn’t give you a chance to finish. He starts moving, hips moving back before slamming forward again and again, the breath escaping your lungs as he moves to rest on his forearms, lips seeking yours for one more bruising taste of your mouth before he pulls completely away. A hand grabs your thigh, hitching it high around his waist and groaning quietly when he hits deeper on the next push.

You’re lost in a hazy sea of pleasure as he starts to move, frantic in his thrusts, the incoherent mumbling falling from your lips driving him to push harder. You have to smother your mouth with your hand to stifle your scream when he grabs your head board, using it as leverage as his hips start to ram harshly into yours.

He knocks the hand away from your mouth, eyes fierce, “I want to hear you.”

“Fuck—”

A thumb starts rubbing at your clit and you sob from the overstimulation, the burn of it sending shocks throughout your body as your body tenses beneath him, fighting the overwhelming sense of it being too fucking much while clinging to the heat of climax quickly building in your core.

“Come on—”

Your body responds to his words immediately. You’re not even sure what sounds comes out of your mouth when your body completely shatters from the inside out, stars blinding you as your pussy clamps down around him. His hips stutter and then he’s quickly pulling out and away from you, fisting his cock with a quiet groan until his cum is painting your pussy, covering your clit and sliding down your slick folds, mixing with your cum leaking from your entrance.

He all but collapses on top of you, chest heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You’re too tired to open your eyes and watch him as he moves away, bed dipping as he stands and disappears.

A wet warmth covers your thoroughly wrecked pussy, and you blearily blink your eyes open to watch him softly clean you with a face cloth, smiling lazily at him when he glances up at you softly. He throws it into the laundry basket by the door and climbs up next to you, gently manoeuvring your tired body under the sheets before wrapping around you.

You blindly reach for his hand, interlocking your fingers as your body slowly calms and melts into the mattress and into the body radiating warmth behind you. The last thing you feel are soft lips pressing against your temple, a hushed goodnight ringing in your ears.

-

Soft fingers tracing down along your nose drags you gently from sleep the next morning. The smile that stretches your lips is automatic as your eyes focus on Frankie, dressed in his clothes from yesterday and perched on the bed next to you.

“I have to go.” He mutters, eyes soft and apologetic as the backs of his fingers brush lightly over your cheek.

“Oh,” you try not to let the disappointment flood your tone, but your face doesn’t get the message as it falls into a pout.

“I know—I’m sorry.” He smiles, fingers still caressing the skin across your face. Your chest tightens the longer he gazes softly at you, something shining deep in his eyes that makes your heart race. “Can I take you out for dinner sometime in the week?”

Delight radiates from your chest as you smile, nodding eagerly. “That would be nice.”

“Last night was…” he trails off, unable to find the words to describe what he felt about the evening before, and a flush of pink grows along his cheeks, his stomach flipping as your moans echo in his ears.

How the fuck is he meant to go about his day and run errands when the picture of you spread out beneath him and crying out his name as you cum keeps playing over and over in his mind like a fucking prime time movie?

“Incredible.” You provide softly, blinking shyly up at him as he grins.

“Incredible.” He agrees just as quietly, feeling like a complete idiot with how hard he was smiling. What was it Benny said the other day? Whipped.

You hold your breath when he leans down, nose scrunching slightly when his moustache tickles your upper lip, his mouth moving unhurriedly as his tongue slides against yours and quickly turning your brain to complete mush. You hum as he moves away, nose brushing softly against yours.

“Are you sure you have to go? You can’t stay for just a few more minutes?” You breathe against his lips, heat spreading across your skin as his eyes darken and slowly lower to where the sheets only just cover your breasts. He groans quietly, flicking a hand out to check his watch and brows pinching as he studies the face of it.

“A few minutes,” he finally decides, hand ripping the sheet away and lips curling up as you yelp in surprise.

He spreads your legs with firm hands, shuffling onto his stomach as he flings your thighs over his shoulders. You sit up onto your elbows, laughing quietly.

“This wasn’t what I had in—oh.”

Fuck—

His finger’s part you gently before his tongue is softly moving over your clit in wide, lazy strokes, and you fall back onto the bed with a whimper, unable to resist grinding against his mouth. Your hand blindly reaches down and soon warm fingers are interlacing with yours, his thumb rubbing across your skin as his lips wrap around your clit.

Fire erupts in your core, electric heat spreading throughout your body as he steadily works his mouth against you, nose brushing your clit as his tongue dives into your pussy, his groan muffled as your taste floods his mouth.

“Fuck Frankie, so good—”

His movements turn frenzied, face pressing up harder against you as his tongue swirls sloppily around your clit, the sounds filling the room obscene as he hungrily laps and sucks at your pussy. All you can do is hold on, the hand intertwined with his tightening as your other flies to his ruffled curls, tugging sharply.

Holy shit, just like that—

You struggle to fill your lungs, struggle to feel anything other than his mouth and how it works savagely against you, pushing you higher and higher until you’re right fucking there—

He feels your legs tense, and anchors himself to you with an arm across your hips, groaning when you cry out and gush around his mouth, coating his tongue and chin.

His mouth is still on you when the wave of bliss dissolves into a dull tingle, hurried movements now languid as his tongue smooths through your folds, his head resting against your inner thigh. You watch him through tired eyes, hand gently brushing his hair from his forehead as his eyes close at the soft caress, tongue curling one more lazy swirl over your pussy before he presses a light kiss to your clit and sits up.

“Now I really have to go.”

-

“Where the fuck have you been?!” Benny yells across the café, ignoring the heads that turn to frown at him. Frankie rolls his eyes, hand running through his hair as he quickly advances to the small group and slides into the booth.

“Sorry—truck wouldn’t start.”

“Mhm.” Santiago hums lowly, hiding a grin behind his cup as he sips his coffee, eyeing Frankie with a critical eye. “What was wrong with it?”

“What?”

Benny crosses his arms on the table and leans forward, eyes narrowing in suspicion. “Your truck—what was wrong with it?”

Frankie shrugs, eyes falling to browse the menu in front of him. “Battery.”

Now fucking drop it.

Pope raises a brow, “Was it flat?”

Fucking Pope—

“Sure.”

Will snorts across the table, grinning wryly as Frankie glares at him. “’Sure’? It was either flat or it wasn’t.”

Fucking Miller—

“Look—I’m here now, let’s just eat so I can go and get Mena.”

The table goes quiet and Frankie sighs in relief, his eyes falling back to his menu. It stays quiet for so long that Frankie actually starts to think the subject has been dropped.

He should’ve known better.

“Fish got laid.” Benny coos softly, Pope and Will snickering behind their menus as Frankie sighs deeply, lips twitching as he fights the grin spreading from their teasing.

-

Rain softly pelts the roof of the truck as you giggle against Frankie’s lips, his dark gaze softening as you smile up at him. You brush a hand softly across his cheek, pressing another zealous kiss to his lips which he returns eagerly, hand smoothing along your thigh and pushing under your skirt to squeeze your thigh, grinning when you whimper into his mouth.

You had said goodbye a few times already, each time ending the same way—lips locked in a bruising, passionate frenzy, neither of you quite ready to let the night come to a close. You break away with a sigh, head tilting as his mouth trails greedily along your throat, tongue soothing the sudden sting away as he nips at your skin.

“I wish you could come up.”

“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. He shouldn’t be—it’s not like he didn’t want to. He had a toddler to get home to. You understood, of course, but it didn’t make the goodbye any easier.

“It’s okay.” You smile at him, his chest tightening as you do.

“You could...” he trails off, chewing his cheek in thought as he looks out of the windshield before turning to you, eyes showing the nervous uncertainty that had flooded him. “You could come back to mine, if—if you want to.”

You blink, pulling away to look up at him searchingly. “What about Mena?”

Would he want you out before dawn or something? Sneak out of the house like you were teenagers or some sort of one night stand? You know he meant no harm by it, but the thought of having to grab your clothes and disappear in the middle of the night had you feeling a little insulted.

“I don’t mind you staying... if you want to meet her. You don’t have to, I was just... I don’t know. I’m just saying it’s—it’s on the table, if that’s something you’d be interested in.” His hands rub along his jeans, wiping the nervous sheen of sweat that had gathered on his palms.

You’re quiet, letting his words soak in and thinking over it seriously. You had no kids, obviously, and no friends that had kids, either, but... wasn’t it a little early for something like this? Although, she was still young—it’s not like she’d know any different.

“I’m sorry—I shouldn’t have said anything. I know it’s early—”

“Can you wait while I pack a bag?”

His heart speeds up as he nods. Shit—was he nodding too fast? He returns your grin as you quickly hop from the truck and rush through the light rain and into your building, disappearing from his view as the door slams behind you.

Did he do the dishes? Fuck—he left his folded laundry on his bed. Why didn’t he just put it away earlier?

It’s fine. It’s fine. Maybe he could fake going to the bathroom and just throw them into his cupboard before you saw anything. Yeah—that’ll work. It’s fine.

You reappear sooner than he expected, a small overnight bag slung over your shoulder and he can’t help the elation that floods his face, grin making his cheeks ache as he quickly leans over the seat and shoves the door open for you. His hand doesn’t leave your thigh the entire way to his place, your fingers drawing random patterns on the back of it as you listen to him sing softly to the music playing from the speaker.

The first thing you notice when he pulls into his driveway is how perfect his house seems to fit him, and he chuckles when you tell him as much. You stay wrapped into his side as he holds his jacket over your head to keep you from getting too wet, quickly ushering you up and onto his porch just in time as the rain comes down heavier.

He ushers you in when he finally gets the door open, and your giggling stops short at the amused gaze you get from the dark-haired man shrugging his jacket on in the entryway.

You wave politely, feeling like an idiot, standing close to the door as Frankie steps in behind you. “Hi,”

The man fixes his jacket on his shoulders, his dark knowing eyes sliding from you to Frankie as a sly grin starts to work its way onto his face.

“Hi. I’ve heard a lot about you.” He replies, grin widening as Frankie comes to stand next to you, nervously fiddling with his keys.

How the fuck did he completely forget about Pope? Jesus Christ—

Santiago reads the message rolling through his friend’s eyes—a big fat ‘get the fuck out now’, but instead of heeding the unspoken warning and disappearing, he leans his hip on the back of the couch, thoroughly enjoying the twist of Frankie’s features as he makes himself comfortable.

He holds a hand out, “I’m Santiago—the good looking one of the group.”

Frankie rolls his eyes as you give your name in return and shake the outstretched hand, turning to throw his keys in the bowl sitting on the table next to the door, and hissing a quiet insult under his breath.

“That’s debatable,” is your immediate reply, your eyes shooting to land appreciatively on Frankie with a smile, watching the angry flush of pink rise along the skin of his throat as he grins back at you.

Pope watches quietly, eyes flickering between the both of you before he chuckles. “You guys are cute. You need a rubber, Fish? Whoa—hey—okay, I’m going—”

You bite your lip to stifle the laugh bubbling in your chest, watching Frankie immediately wrangle Santiago under his arm and all but shove him out the door. Pope throws you a wave over his shoulder, grinning as he mutters something you didn’t catch in Spanish that had Frankie straightening up and growling a retort.

Your eyes roam around the room as the two men bicker behind you, taking in the comforting warmth that oozes from the space.

You step forward to wander the lounge quietly, smiling as you study the many pictures hung perfectly square on the walls. Your eyes find the familiar faces of Benny and Will in a few of them, along with Santiago and another taller man.

You pause on one, heart fluttering and chest tightening as you study Frankie, darks eyes locked on the blanketed bundle in his arms. The one next to it is newer, more recent—a bright eyed little toddler perched on his hip as they both grin at the camera, colourful streamers hanging above them and a giant ‘1’ balloon in the background.

Fatherhood suited him. He was glowing.

The sound of the door closing has your attention returning to him, eyes fond as you watch him start making his way to you.

“She’s a mini-you.”

He grins, looking at the photo of him and Mena, and nodding. “I know—poor thing.”

He laughs when you slap his chest lightly, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before leading you further into his home. “Would you like anything?”

“I won’t say no to another kiss, and maybe something else.”

He turns on his heel instantly, brow rising as he winds an arm around your waist and dips you slightly back with a curious ‘oh?’. You grab at his arms, giggling as you clutch his sleeves, “Frankie!”

He chuckles deeply, lips pressing softly against yours. You sigh at the feel of them, your hand cupping his cheek as his tongue slides out to meet yours, his hand grabbing a greedy handful of your ass and bringing your hips flush against his. You’re both completely oblivious to the door reopening behind you.

“I forgot my phone—don’t mind me.”

“Pope—” Frankie barks, frowning over your head as Santiago jogs to the couch and holds his phone up, wiggling it in his hold.

“What? I’m not looking.”

Santiago disappears, the door clicking softly behind him and you grin, kissing the corner of Frankie’s lips as he eyes the door, half expecting Pope to come waltzing right back in with some other bullshit excuse.

“Frankie…”

His dark eyes meet yours instantly, his stomach flipping at the mischievous shine in your gaze.

“There is something I’d really like.” You continue quietly, straightening up and slowly pushing him back towards his couch.

He’s putty in your hands, wide eyes blinking at you in awe as you run your tongue along your lip. He drops onto the couch with a small exhale when you push him, heart thundering in his ears as you drop to your knees in front of him.

“Can I?” You reach for his belt, fingers running along the cool metal of the buckle.

Fuck. You’re so pretty.

He must’ve spoken aloud because a shy smile curls your lips, eyes briefly falling before flickering back up at him from beneath your lashes. Your fingers move when he gives a shaky nod of consent, quickly working the belt open and diving for the button of his jeans.

Wait—

“Hold on a second?” He stands, carefully stepping around you and walking to his door, locking every latch and bolting the deadlock securely before turning and making his way back to you. “I don’t need Pope interrupting this.” He mutters in quiet explanation, lips twitching at your chuckle.

He settles himself back in front of you, inhaling deeply when your fingers work his jeans open and pull them down his legs. He’s already half hard, the mere idea of your mouth going anywhere near his cock enough to stir a hunger deep in his belly.

“You didn’t let me have a turn when you stayed over.” You accuse quietly, hand wrapping around him and giving a slow tug, working him softly until he was fully hard and pulsing in your hand.

“’m sorry,” he mutters, tongue running his lower lip as you continue to work him gently, his hips squirming under your ministrations.

“I think about this all the time.” You admit, eyes watching his cock throb in your grasp. “How you’d feel, how you’d taste.”

Holy shit—you did?

He makes a quiet noise when your thumb brushes over the head of his cock, collecting the small drop of precum that beads there and smoothing it along his skin. You watch it glisten, pussy clenching as it smears silkily under your thumb.

“Can I taste you, Frankie?”

He’s nodding before you even finish.

The wet heat of your mouth envelopes his cock and he exhales sharply, hands flying to grab at the cushion beneath him. He can’t help but buck into your mouth when your tongue slides along his slit, collecting the precum you had spread there, before running it along the underside of his cock.

You moan at the salty taste of him on your tongue, hands finding purchase on his thighs as you push yourself to take him deeper, fighting the resistance at the back of your mouth and taking him down your throat, holding steady as he curses above you.

Pulling back, you inhale sharply before starting to bob your head, lips wrapping tightly around his cock and sucking lightly as your hand moves to pump what you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

“Fuck, you’re so pretty, so perfect—”

Your panties feel slick as your thighs rub together, your arousal soaking the fabric as Frankie moans quietly, head dropping to fall back against the couch in bliss. You run your free hand under your skirt, whimpering when your fingers press against your clit through the lace and start to rub little circles in time with the movement of your head.

You take him deeper, saliva pooling and spilling from your mouth as you gag around him, your pussy aching with the need to have something, anything, filling it. You hear nothing but Frankie; nothing but the small whimpers and whines that fall from his lips, and your fingers slip into your panties, swiping along your slit before thrusting them into your pussy, your moan muffled as you take him down your throat again.

His eyes fall to the hand disappearing under your skirt, your hips moving in time to whatever the fuck your fingers are doing and his stomach tightens.

“Fuck. Are you—” his eyes flicker up from your hips to watch your brows pinch together in pleasure and then he’s fucking done for; the thought of you getting yourself off while sucking his cock completely tearing him to pieces.  He groans loudly, cock throbbing and twitching as cum spurts from his tip and floods your eager mouth.

His hot release hits your tongue and back of your throat, and paired with the incoherent praises spilling from his mouth, it triggers your own body shattering climax. You choke out a moan from around him as your walls tighten around your fingers, his cum overflowing and spilling from your lips as you struggle with the fullness of him down your throat.

You slip your fingers out from your fluttering pussy and sit back on your heels with a heaving gasp once his cock starts to soften in your mouth, tongue messily lapping at the cum that spilt over your skin.

He dives forward eagerly, lips wrapping around your fingers and groaning as your familiar taste floods his tongue. He soon moves to your mouth, tongue catching the drop of his cum from your chin before he’s pushing it into your mouth, groaning when your tongue eagerly swipes along his.

Your kisses soon turn tender, gazes gentle as you part from each other.

Something’s happening—you can feel it in your chest. A feeling tugs at your heart, soft and insistent. It grows when he smiles, radiates warmth when his hands take yours as he helps you from the floor. You briefly wonder what it could be before shaking the thought from your head, devoting your attention back to Frankie as he walks you through the house to his bedroom.

+

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[kaijime]

lights down low

pt. 2

includes. kuroo tetsurou, bokuto koutarou, tendou satori, sugawara koushi, tsukishima kei, tanaka ryunosuke, oikawa tooru, ushijima wakatoshi, nishinoya yuu.

cw. fem reader, phone sex, masturbation, fingering, toys (vibrator, dildo), slight dom, squirting

a/n. Ok I’m really really sorry about this, I had an ask in my inbox and I think I accidentally deleted it or something, I don’t know what happened. its just not there but I’m gonna answer it anyways.Basically the ask was about making a fic out of this video, go watch it for a little bit of context (it is a little nsfw, you have been warned)

After that disastrous prank from the boys, you were left hot and needy. You gather your things from the couch, where previously there was a calm ambient of doing homework, now it was just an uncomfortable place because you were sweating buckets. On the way to your bed you left your notebooks and pencils on the desk and lay down on the bed. 

Looking back at those pictures, your imagination was left to run. What could those jim shorts be hiding? The thoughts of them around you, making you feel good in all the ways possible, made your mind wander-- and your hand too.

Sneaking a hand into your cute lacy panties, you imagine its someone else’s hand, any other hand but yours. Your finger touches your clit, rubbing small, light circles around it in a teasing motion.

“H-hah- I...” your hand quickly covers your mouth in an attempt to silence yourself. You take off the damp fabric from your heat, lifting your legs to slide it off and throw it into some unknown corner of the room. The room grows hot, as well as your insides, it know has a lust-like vibe. Your body sits straight taking off your shirt and bra, massaging your breast with your left hand while rubbing yourself with the other one.

A few minutes of this made you bored, reaching for the bottom drawer of your bedside table where you hid all the good things. Your breath hitched at the sigh of the familiar toys, the blue dildo and the small bullet vibrator. Taking your previous place on the bed you turn on the small vibrator on the lightest setting and rub it over your nipples, teasing them and leaving breathy moans to slip out of your mouth.

The feeling of the vibrating bullet on your sensitive nub made you go crazy, thinking about how good it would feel to have one of those sexy boys tease them while filling all of your holes. You dragged it through your entire body, from your upper stomach to where you needed it the most.

You were lost in the pleasure, very lost in the pleasure. Still, you could never be lost enough to ignore the ringing of your phone. Your body jumped involuntarily at the scare, scrambling to find the source of the annoying sound that interrupted your session. That’s when you saw it.

Video call from the group chat.

Not just any group chat, the one with all the men you were just fantasizing about. Fuck. There’s no way you couldn’t join, they would think something is wrong with you, when really you’re just trying to get off. You throw on the shirt you had previously discarded.

“Hey hey hey! (Y/n)~ How are you feeling?~” Bokuto’s teasing, sing-song voice welcomed you into the call after you hit the green button on the screen. Even if the group chat was a big one, a few of them weren’t in the call. The ones who usually went to bed early were gone, so that means Kageyama, Akaashi and Asahi were not in the group call. Memories of the prank made you gush, your slick dripping onto your ass and eventually to the sheets, since you didn’t have enough time to throw on some panties, but that’s fine. It’s not like you’re gonna show them anything.

“I’m feeling good y’know, after being harassed with such lewd pictures I’m feeling just peachy!” the sarcastic tone really evident in your voice. A few of them laughed, some remained silent. You didn’t care, you  just wanted the call to be over so you could resume your previous actions. Then Kuroo spoke.

“Yeah here’s the thing (Y/n), if you weren’t reading the chat” which of course you were not, you were too busy trying to relieve the heat these boys had caused you. “We were actually gonna ask you if you could maybe send us something like that?”

“Wh-what?”

“You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, but if you did we would never send those pictures to anyone else” The thought of them, wanting to see you in a picture as provocative as theirs made you blush. Your face turned red at the thought, it all felt too good to be true...like a prank.

“Alright... very funny, yeah right” but the boys could not understand what you were saying, they genuinely meant what they said, so they were taken aback that you wouldn’t believe them. Then Tsukishima chipped in on the awkward silence.

“Does it look like were ki-”

“What’s that?” you heard Tendou question. That’s when you looked to your right and saw the dildo, in all its glory, completely visible to the camera. All this time you’ve been talking while all the boys could see the toy you used- or were planning on using.

You quickly cover it with your sheets and cover your own face with your other hand to hide your growing blush and the tears on the corner of your eyes, for one more embarrassing moment with these boys and you would snap.

“How lewd (Y/n)” Nishinoya spoke, his teasing tone not helping you at all.

“Hey come on guys, stop it” said Sugawara. And then there was an awkward silence once more, honestly, it would’ve been better to be endlessly teased than to be in the thoughts of everyone. You could tell they were all silently judging you by the way they stared at the camera. That’s when you broke down, not full on sobbing, just a few tears that trickled down your cheeks.

“Whoa, hey-- sweetie, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing its jut that I feel so bad, I was about to touch myself thinking about all those pictures you guys sent me a-”

“Wha- wait a second, you were going to touch yourself thinking about our pictures?” Tanaka asked, though you couldn’t tell if he was going to be judgy about it or if he genuinely had curiosity. “As in... put that thing inside yourself thinking about us?”

The nod of your head makes the whole group crazy. Just thinking about you, shoving that toy into your heat with your thoughts fixated on them, that made most of them hard, except for Ushi. He simply cleared his throat and said:

“Can you show us?”

“WHAT?!”

“If you feel uncomfortable doing it then don’t but I think everyone here is hard and we could all use the relief, including you soo...”. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. These men, some of them older than you, even, wanted to see you masturbate.

“Are you sure this isn’t a prank?”

“It’s not a prank (Y/n), we all want to see the same thing so if you feel like doing it, whenever you’re ready would be a good place to start” added Oikawa. You swallowed the saliva that had gathered up on your mouth, by this time, the sheets beneath you were soaked in your essence. Someone looking at this from an outside point of view might have described it as peer pressure, but when you set the camera on the end of your bed and spread your legs to show them how hot and bothered they had made your cute little cunny, well, you didn’t feel pressured at all. In fact it all felt so normal, as if this was something normal friends did.

“Oh my god” “Soo hot” “Spread them wide baby” and other praises could be heard from the phone. All the different voices worshiping you and ordering you around made you feel somewhat safe, like you had lost a bit of your control, but you had given it to the right people.

It should be noted that at this time everyone was hard, including Ushijima. You took off your shirt again and a few cheers from Tanaka and Nishinoya were heard. You then did what you would normally do in a horny night, except of course, with the exception that there was a phone with nine friends in front of you. 

“Touch yourself for daddy”

“Uh-huh, I’ll be a good girl for you daddy” pushing your fingers into your hole. “Your cocks are all so pretty” moaning at the sight of they’re long members on the camera, as they used their hands to relieve the hardness.

“You’re being so good for us sugar, put in another finger” Sugawara’s orders made you clench around your small finger, reminding you that it wouldn’t  be enough to satisfy you. A loud moan slips past your lips as you enter another finger into your wet heat. “Good girl, now put the vibrator to your clit, darling”

Doing as you’re told you moan at the sight of all of them jerking off to your sweating figure. Tanaka and Kuroo were in the same position as you were, sitting on your bed with their legs spread to get better access to their cocks, Ushijima, Bokuto and Tsukishima appeared to have their cameras right in front of their dicks, just so that you could get a good close look on how their hands were working on themselves. The rest of them were in different positions that you couldn’t make out because you drifted your gaze to the ceiling, searching for something to help you, to save you from the immense pleasure you were having. 

The little bullet making you shiver in ecstasy. The way your fingers couldn’t reach that special spot inside yourself made you feel sexually frustrated, but you kept fingering yourself, for the sake of all the hot men who were panting and moaning like crazy in front of you. Even if you couldn’t do exactly what you wanted to, you were feeling very good, and you were so close to your orgasm.

“Pull out your fingers and put in the toy” Nishinoya ordered. For a small boy he had some big balls, (metaphorically)

“But daddy! I-I’m sooo close...daddyyyyy”  And you came, your sweet juices seeping out of you as you rubbed yourself with your fingers to gather a bit of your slick. You take that same hand to your mouth, licking all the creamy substance off.

“Ugh, baby” and they moaned out lots of different nicknames, all of them making you clench around the emptiness in your hole. You grab the dildo once again from under the sheets and tease yourself with the tip at your entrance looking into the camera to give the group a good show. Keeping your eyes fixated on the camera you shove the toy into your abused hole. When you feel it reach your pelvis. 

“Daddy, y-...y-you’re so deep inside me-... h-hah” the pace you set is slow, as you realize, too slow, even for you. “Its so big d-daddy!”

“Shut up and take it like a good slut” Tsukishima exclaims, which makes you go harder and deeper into your cunt. You lift your head from where it was buried in the pillows and look at your pussy, the way its taking the big toy makes you clench around it, making it harder to pull it out and push it inside.

“(Y/n)- p-please keep going, I-I’m gonna cum” 

“I-I’m not-... I can’t-t stop” you say pushing the toy further inside and hitting your g-spot. The volume of your moans increases with each hit to that special spot inside you. “I’m go-...a-ah-ah! Daddy I’m cumming” 

“Cum, make a mess l-like the good girl you are d-darling” Suga said in between all his moans. Your insides threw out the blue toy and started spraying your clear essence. You take a hand to your clit to make it last longer. Gushing all over the place, on the bed sheets and even on the phone, which of course only brought the men closer to their climaxes as well. By the time you were finished and taking in what just happened, all of them had released and were just panting in the afterglow of their orgasms.

“Wow” “That was so hot” and other commentaries where made by them.

“We should do this more often”

©️ kaijime 2021 | all content belongs to kaijime, do not modify or repost

[existslikepristin]

Impromptu Review

Thanks for editing this one goes to momirene and Worldsover, and for helpful beta reading feedback from them and one dork who wants to remain anonymous.

Tags: TheLounge, Red Velvet, SNSD (Girl's Generation), Joy, Sunny, loneliness, potential traumatization of cats, a hoard of hell-themed sex toys, a strap on, a butt plug with Jiu's face in it, and bisexual problems.

The front door of Sunny’s apartment swung open so fast that Joy felt a breeze from the vacuum it left behind.

“Joy! You’re here!”

Joy blinked. “Yeah, I said I would come over.”

“It’s been so long since we’ve met up! Come in, come in!”

“It’s only been like a month though.”

Sunny grabbed Joy’s hands and pulled her through the doorway. “It feels like so much longer than that!”

Joy smiled and took her shoes off in the entryway. “You seem more excited than usual.”

“What? How so?”

“Well for one,” Joy said, pointing at the kitchen, “It looks like you prepared for a whole party in here.”

The kitchen’s island was covered in plates of snacks and several variations of alcoholic beverages. Additionally, Sunny was noticeably sweaty, like she had just run around the house preparing for guests. Joy figured it would be best not to bring that up.

“What? No. That? That’s… yeah, that’s a lot of food, isn’t it?” Sunny’s posture drooped, as if she’d already expended all of her energy on her greeting.

Joy pulled her into a side hug. Her height served to straighten Sunny back up. “What’s going on, girl?”

Sunny sighed and leaned her head on Joy’s chest. “I dunno. I’m just excited. Haven’t had a good social night any time recently.”

“Aw! But what about these cutie kitties?”

Sogeum popped her head out from behind the wall and gave Joy her signature droopy, grim stare without so much as a meow. As soon as Joy shuffled in her direction though, she turned and went back into the living room.

“Well, you know. Can’t really have a real conversation with the cats.”

Joy hummed her agreement and stepped into the kitchen. “I’m always happy to talk to you Sunny. They don’t call SM a family for nothing.”

Sunny groaned, loudly.

“Um. Okay,” Joy said when Sunny didn’t elaborate. “Not a family? Just a bunch of really close friends?”

“Yeah, that’ll work better. Not a fan of the family motif.”

Joy picked up a cracker and chomped down. “Gonna… explain? Family is normally a positive thing, isn’t it?”

Sunny grabbed a bottle of wine and yanked the cork out. “Yeah, totally, for sure. Hey, do you like Chardonnay?”

“I…” Joy didn’t want to skirt around whatever issue Sunny was having, but was well-aware of her stubbornness. “I sure do.”

As fancy glasses of white wine were generously poured, Joy made note of Sunny’s slow, unsteady movements. She worried that perhaps Sunny had already started drinking, or wasn’t getting enough sleep.

* * *

“Can you believe that, Joy?”

“No way. It’s just inhuman.”

“Completely! It’s not like green onions are suddenly more expensive to dry out!”

The conversation had started with gossip and cheese snacking when the sun was high. As the sun set, the discussion shifted to the price of instant meals, and the snack plates were all but empty. Joy had to fight the constant urge to fall asleep, as the topics were never much more interesting than that. But she let Sunny lead the talking as much as possible.

Joy was simply relieved that Sunny called her over before diving into her liquor storage. “You should start a petition to regulate the price. I’d be the first to sign it.”

Sunny’s tipsy grin matched Joy’s. Though the alcohol consumption had been slow-going, they had been doing it for several hours. “Oh that would be great press. ‘Washed up idol upset with ramen manufacturers.’”

With an exaggerated roll of the eyes, Joy pointed at a set of boxes in the corner of the living room, currently being used as a lookout tower by Sogeum. “You’re not washed up yet. Look at all of those sponsor gifts. Those weren’t here last time I came over… Wait, they weren’t, were they?”

Sunny giggled. “No, they’re, uh… new.”

Their corporate sponsors weren’t something that Joy, Sunny, or any of the other SM idols discussed often. There were usually so many vying for their attention that it was pointless trying to keep track. But Joy reasoned, somewhat drunkenly, that talking about it might be therapeutic to someone so down on their social status. “Who are they from, anyway?”

A blush deepened the red of Sunny’s already tipsy-glowing cheeks. “Uh… Nobody. Just a regular sponsor, ya know?”

Joy grinned. “Oh, come on. You can tell me. What am I gonna do? Call a press conference to tell the tabloids who’s contributing to your paycheck?”

Sunny rolled her eyes. She shot off the couch, spilling a drop or two of her wine in the process. From Joy’s naturally higher perspective, Sunny didn’t seem that much taller. “Fine,” she said, wobbling, “but you better not make fun of me.”

“I’ll make fun of you for other reasons, like how much I love you, bitch!” Joy blinked at her own shouting. She didn’t know when the alcohol had hit her, but she was beginning to think that she was a little more intoxicated than she previously thought.

Thankfully, the joviality in her voice seemed to encourage Sunny to play along. She set her wine on the coffee table and picked one of the smaller boxes off of the pile. “Disclosure first! We haven’t agreed to any deals yet. They sent me this stuff to try to convince me to shill it. I didn’t reach out to them.”

Joy waved the disclosure off like a mosquito, but Sunny still tossed the box in her direction. The weight inside of it was awkwardly distributed. Joy attempted to catch it, but it wound up ricocheting off the tips of her fingers and nearly knocking over an open, mostly full bottle of soju.

“The fuck is in this thing?”

“I’ve got some ideas but I just know who it’s from. Open it and find out.”

Joy tore into the box with no regard for the care that went into the packaging, which itself was surprisingly discreet. A smirk cracked her lips when she thought about what sorts of deliveries required such discretion. But the smirk faded right away when she got a view of the inside and realized that the packager apparently had the same idea.

Inside was a pair of plastic sheets wrapped asymmetrically around a roughly water bottle sized blob of blood red silicone. A small bit of pink cardboard advertised it as a five-speed, rotation-simulating, self-cleaning, pattern-switching, USB-charging, automatically-lubricating, remote-controlled vibrator with a speaker at the bottom for replicating a set of desired moans and a specialized charging dock.

Joy cleared her throat and stared at the horrifically fancy dildo, and its label, “Dante’s Dive,” unsure if she should toss it back to Sunny, considering it was clearly a personal item.

Sunny reached into what was left of the box, procuring a pretty little decorated card. “Dear Ms. Lee, we at Second Ring Inc were very pleased to hear your impromptu review of our products on a recent episode of ‘Welp, I Guess We’re Talking About This Now’ and wished to send you some additional items to show our appreciation. These are in no way a request for further public review,” Sunny was briefly interrupted by Joy’s disapproving snort, “but should you be interested in a partnership, we have included a phone number at which I, the chief executive officer, Lee Youngjoon, may be reached. Optionally, my username--”

Joy missed a few words as she was shocked by the extreme sound emitted by the vibrator when she pushed a button on the remote control.

“--is ‘worldsover’. As you know, Second Ring specializes in sexual wellness products, of which we’ve sent you a wide variety. They can be enjoyed by couples, or can serve as a fantastic outlet for power singles like yourself…”

Sunny trailed off. Joy was afraid she knew what was coming. “Damn, Sunny. You say so much as three words on national television and they scramble to get right up on your ass, eh?”

It was too late. Sunny was already tipping up the bottom of the soju bottle. A few drops spluttered back out of her mouth as Joy pushed it back down. “Sunny! You’ve said it yourself! You don’t want to get married!”

“Doesn’t mean I’m not still lonely!”

Joy wrapped her arms around Sunny. “You’ve got me. And a million other friends!”

“Fans don’t count.” Sunny’s voice was partially muffled by Joy’s shoulder.

“Ouch. Time for me to delete my Sone club membership. But fine. A hundred other friends. It’s not just me. It’s my members. Your members. And plenty of others. All of NCT would be--Okay, nevermind. Aespa though! They love you too.”

“But I don't want to inconvenience you." Sunny ended so matter-of-factly that Joy had to pause to process the short conversation.

"You know how… You know how you take a road trip, and there's a road block, or really bad construction, and you have to take a detour?"

"Yeah. I'm a detour."

"Come on, Sunny. What you are is the scenic route!”

There was a long silence.

“Was that the end of the metaphor?” Sunny eventually asked.

“I am very drunk.”

“You’re not that drunk.”

“Drunk enough to be shit at metaphors.”

“It’s…” Sunny extricated herself from Joy’s hug. “It’s okay. I think I know what you’re getting at, and I appreciate it. It’s just that a few words don’t really fix a brain, you know?”

Joy nodded slowly, watching as Sogeum casually stalked across the room. “Yup. But believe me. I’m here for you, at least. So if you need a friend, or some company, I’m at the top of your list.”

The cat plopped herself on the floor, right up against Sunny’s leg. Joy giggled. “Fuck off, kitty. I just said I was the top.”

It seemed the topic of conversation was ready to change. Sunny smiled, and it was enough to indicate her understanding.

“So!” Joy moved things along. “A pile of free, top of the line sex toys in your living room. What’s a young woman to do about that?”

Sunny snorted. “Well I’m not going to masturbate while I have company over, that’s for sure.” She grabbed another box from the pile and handed it over, doing her best not to disturb Sogeum’s new resting place.

The new box took mere seconds to open, this time revealing a black silicone butt plug with a red gem in the base. The casing suggested that a picture could be inserted beneath the gem, and it appeared there was one already there as an example. Joy had to flip it around to a variety of angles before she could make out that it contained a headshot of Dreamcatcher’s Jiu making finger hearts on her cheeks. She cocked her head, wondering if the image had actually been authorized.

Another box swapped between the womens’ hands. It took Joy a little longer to open than the last, but it turned out to be that way for a good reason, given that it was gently holding some fragile cargo: A red-tinted glass bottle of lube, labeled as “Juice from the Fruit of The Tree.” The lengthy product title had a snake winding through the letters.

“Well now they’re just really doubling down on this theme, aren’t they?” Sunny asked as she worked out how to open the next package, using her bottle opener as a makeshift knife.

Joy laughed and picked up yet another, now eager to see what kind of wild object it would contain. “Yeah, they really are! No lie, they’re starting to give me some ideas. Talk about sinful.”

“‘Oh I know,’” Sunny mocked the company, as SM artists often did, fingers still struggling to find their way under the first cardboard flap. “‘Let’s send Sunny a whole pile of sex junk. Bet she’s sinful enough to use it all.’ Like, come on Love-eye, or whatever your name is. What’s a single woman gonna do with all this? Hold up a pillow fort?”

“Hey, maybe he doesn’t know you’re single. Maybe there’s some stuff in here that takes two to tangle with… Fuck. Choerry’s got me using alliterations.”

Sunny barely managed to get her fingers inside the box, but her knuckles were turning white from the tightness of it. It seemed that she had left a portion of the packing tape uncut. “I said I was single on the show, though. I don’t think there will be any couples’ toys in here.”

“Oooh, I’m gonna make it a bet now.” Joy smirked. Her next sentence bypassed her verbal filter through the holes left in it by the alcohol. “If you get that thing open and there’s a strap on inside, you have to fuck me with it!”

A jerk of her arms snapped the remainder of the packing tape. Sunny chuckled. “You’re on. There’s no way it is.”

Joy had to admit that Sunny had a point, considering how small the package was. Surely it couldn’t fit a series of leather straps, or a dildo any larger than a couple of inches in any direction. The little voice in the back of her mind that told her making such an offer was stupid quieted down somewhat.

There was a moment of quiet. Sogeum rolled away from Sunny and made her way to the kitchen. Joy picked up another box, confident that she hadn’t just placed herself in an awkward situation. Sunny shook her head, amused. And then…

“J-Joy?”

Joy looked back, but wasn’t quite sure what she was looking at. It was a sort of mass of black string with some silver discs hanging off of it. Another piece of pink paper fluttered to the floor, where Joy picked it up and read aloud.

“‘The Obol.’ As Charon ferried Dante across the Styx and into the hole that is Hell, so too shall this state-of-the-art magnetic harness ferry our exclusive Dante’s Dive dildo into your… partner’s hole…”

There was more to be read, but both women seemed to get the point. The only sound in the room came from Sogeum chomping through some hard cat food in the kitchen. Slowly, their eyes raised and met. They both spoke at the same moment.

“That was a bet’s a joke bet right?”

Their drunken minds needed a moment to detangle their words into distinct sentences. Sunny’s “That was a joke, right?” and Joy’s “A bet’s a bet.”

Sunny started again first. “You know, we don’t have to.”

“I will if you want to.”

Every sentence being exchanged was followed by a palpable stillness. Joy’s heart beat loudly in her own ears, and she swore she could hear Sunny’s too.

“Do you… want to fuck me with that, Sunny?”

Sunny answered instantly. “Yup.”

There was a flurry of action, though it was slowed here and there by a tipsy stumble or two. Sunny gathered up an armful of the items on her coffee table, both sex toys and the bottle of soju, and sprinted for the bedroom. Joy rushed after her, messily attempting and failing to remove some of her clothes on the way.

Sogeum was spooked by the sudden kerfuffle and fled out of sight.

The bedroom was no less hectic. Sunny dropped everything on the bed except the soju, which she took one more swig of directly from the bottle before setting it dangerously close to the edge of her desk. She wiggled out of her shirt and bra, which attracted Joy’s attention instantly.

Joy struck at Sunny’s cleavage, wrapping her fingers as far as they could go around the legendary orbs, and her lips around one of the budding tips. Their differences in height made it awkward, but they very soon found their way to a horizontal state that eased that tension. Unfortunately, it was not on the bed, but on the floor, but they weren’t about to let something like that stop them.

What clothes they were still wearing exploded off their bodies. Joy’s shorts and shirt, Sunny’s pants and socks. All of it ended up in different sections of the room, thrown under and over furniture.

Joy was no stranger to encounters like this, and neither was Sunny. They had shared countless stories with each other… and some spit. But neither had considered their prior make out sessions to be precursors to explicitly sexual action. For her part, however, Joy considered this one differently, and Sunny’s hands searching half-blindly for Joy’s ass confirmed to her that Sunny thought the same.

Backs arched. Legs ground against one another. Open mouths met, trading the alcoholic scents that the women no longer cared to distinguish. Their minds had devoted themselves entirely to the search for physical pleasure.

A lot of exploratory prodding led Sunny’s fingers to the entrance to Joy’s pussy, failing to notice the number of pokes that ended up at Joy's exit. She took some time familiarizing herself with the drenched outer folds.

Joy, however, noticed the poking at her ass. Her mind swam with serotonin, thoughts of other people, and alcoholic fumes that seemed to rearrange the letters of her thoughts into nonsense. Or possibly into inspiration.

Inspiration relevant to the happenings at the prior year's award shows, that is.

Joy tried to pull back the moment Sunny’s fingers dipped inside her. She had opened her mouth to speak but instead groaned and arched herself further into Sunny’s grip on her sanity. "S-Sunny. B-bed."

At least that message was received loud and clear. Sunny dragged her fingers against Joy’s G-spot as she, disappointingly, pulled them out, nearly causing Joy to scream. The same fingers plunged into Joy’s mouth and quieted her as she diligently sucked her own juices from them.

The action transferred to the bed. Fingers immediately found their places again, and Joy bounced on her back in time with Sunny’s brutal shoves. Packaging bounced all around them. It was like a desperate, distracted game of Vegetable Shinobi for Joy, swiping at the jumping dildo. Sunny’s fingers were divine, eye-wateringly so, but Joy wanted something unholy.

Sunny muttered Joy’s name, catching her attention again. She lifted her head to meet for yet another imprecise kiss. Their legs twisted around each other. Joy could hear the desperation in Sunny’s moans, vibrating all the way down her throat, burning like the alcohol. She snaked a hand between them and found Sunny’s clit.

The moans freed themselves as Sunny bucked backward, almost out of Joy’s longer reach. Joy noted the exceptional reaction, and flipped Sunny onto her back, following immediately and putting herself in the position of power Sunny had initiated.

“You’re gonna fuck me with the strap on… right, Sunny?”

Sunny’s eyes widened, and she grabbed the toys.

“No, not yet,” Joy stalled in her most seductive voice. She slid down, nearly falling off the bed, and wrenched Sunny’s legs wide open with her elbows.

Sunny clenched her fingers around the hell-themed dildo for dear life. Joy’s name poured through her lips over and over again as Joy’s lips poured over her pussy.

Joy had to fight Sunny’s strength to keep her spread thighs from clamping around her head. She wanted to keep hearing her senior beg, loud and clear. To that end, she dug in her tongue, unable to penetrate far, but far enough to open Sunny up and feel the wetness flow into her mouth.

“Please… Joy… I’m close… Joy, please! Joy, don’t stop!”

The thought flitted through Joy’s head, that perhaps denying Sunny her orgasm would be fun, but something about the way she said it made Joy wonder if Sunny’s neediness was rooted in her loneliness, more than in her desire to get off. She shifted herself to wrap her arms under Sunny’s legs and pulled. It wasn’t possible for them to be any physically closer than they were, but she wanted to make it feel like they could be.

Sunny’s voice cracked, choked, and broke into a scream. Joy winced as her tongue was squeezed uncomfortably, but she wasn’t about to stop. The back arches, hair grasping, and pained gasps that followed were worth it.

Joy kept it up until Sunny’s body fell back down and her muscles relaxed. Only then, she removed herself to ask, “Need a break before my turn?”

A smile crept up Sunny’s mouth. Her fingers tightened around the dildo she still had in her hand. “Get… back down here.”

If there was any benefit Joy appreciated most about idol training, it was recovery speed, and Sunny still had it. Joy picked up the strap, quickly figuring out how it was supposed to fit and sliding it up Sunny’s legs. The motion doubled as her approach for another make out.

Of course, Joy was still immensely horny. Her interest in making out with Sunny was overshadowed by her desire to get fucked savagely, but she had the wherewithal to hold out, to let it happen naturally. She was always good at letting others take the lead. Whether they led from the top or from the bottom didn’t especially matter to her.

The alcohol made her more impatient than usual though. She forced herself to wait for the five-speed pounding she’d get, but she ground herself against Sunny’s leg in the meantime. Thankfully she didn’t have to wait long. Sunny threw her to the side and attached the vibrator to the unusual strap with very little trouble. Joy fingered herself as she watched.

“Fuck, yes, Sunny. This is going to be so goo--”

Sunny practically tackled Joy. Their lips collided again, strap hovering somewhere between Joy’s legs, but not close enough for her to feel it.

The moment she did, though, Joy grabbed Sunny’s ass and pulled. The lack of accuracy was made up for by the inhuman amount of lubrication present; both Joy’s and the curious synthetic compound that the dildo exuded seemingly of its own volition.

It was almost too much for Joy. The dildo was certainly longer than any she had used before, and bottoming out at full speed meant it hit her rather painfully in the cervix. She hissed, but otherwise just readjusted her legs in Sunny’s way to prevent the same thing from happening so easily again.

The strap held the dildo in place on Sunny’s body well. Despite its genuinely small frame, it seemed to prevent all wiggling. Every one of Sunny’s movements, including the less delicate, more intoxicated ones, translated to sensations that felt to Joy like a biologically attached dick, albeit with a plethora of extra features.

"You're so pretty, Joy," Sunny said. Even though she was doing all the work now, she wasn't nearly as winded as before. Knowing she’d affected Sunny made Joy grin into another kiss.

“No you,” Joy said with a smirk. She knew this would be good, but she truly underestimated how great it would be to see Sunny’s famous tits jiggling with the effort of fucking her. The sheen of sweat covering them would ensure the night wouldn’t be forgotten, even if Joy had another drink or two.

Joy’s first orgasm struck quickly and unexpectedly. Her breath stopped and a shudder spiked through her body from her core to the tips of her toes and fingers and head. The ability to think normally left her for a brief moment. She only kept the fleeting question of whether or not Sunny was able to feel Joy’s climax. Stars popped in and out of existence, obscuring Joy’s view of Sunny’s fantastic body.

It all faded relatively soon after, but it wasn’t enough for Joy. As soon as her lungs refilled, she screamed, “More! Sunny! Fuck me! Fuck me! Oh god!” She was practically numb everywhere, except for every square inch of her that the dildo rubbed, slid, and vibrated against. Her arms and legs wrapped around Sunny on their own.

Joy, eyes half closed, barely registered when Sunny slowed down to grab and open the extra package. She did, however, notice the sudden prodding feeling at her asshole.

“Sun--”

She couldn’t even finish Sunny’s name before something slipped its way into her butt. Her vision cleared up enough to see that even while she continued thrusting, Sunny had one hand tucked between them, and it was the source of the extra intrusion.

A couple more thrusts though, and Joy was lost to the pleasure again. She started to pant instead of scream or moan, or perhaps she was whimpering, or speaking fluent Polish. Joy couldn’t have said one way or the other. Another orgasm hit. And another. And another. She knew some time was passing between each one, but whether it was seconds or days between no longer mattered. Her mind was fading out of existence.

Until, that is, it wasn’t.

With seemingly no provocation, Joy suddenly remembered Cheungae. She had been meaning to talk to Sunny about him before they had gotten drunk. Her mind wandered, far, far more than it normally would during such intense sex.

Cheungae had taken her out several times since their first, less-than-professional meeting at the MAMAs with Wheein. Even though Joy knew he was struggling financially, he always insisted on paying for coffee, but would give up if he saw the bill when Joy took him to some of the much higher end restaurants.

He was always so polite, genuine, and humble. He didn’t even question when Joy told him they couldn’t be in a relationship, but instead insisted that they could be friends. Joy wondered if it was fair to him that she was treating him as a boyfriend in every way but name while she was still having a grand old time fucking everyone else in the industry. Cheungae knew about it, but wasn’t part of it.

And yet, sex with Cheungae made Joy feel good. Great, even. She could recreate the sensations in her mind for days afterward. His slim, toned figure hovering over her, his face contorted beautifully in adorable agony, his admittedly mediocre cock managing to hit her just right with every move. She couldn’t stop picturing him.

Another orgasm smashed through Joy’s illusion. The mental image of perfectly human Cheungae was instantly replaced with the very physical image of god-like Sunny. As tended to happen, Joy held her breath as the climax coursed through her. Her muscles contracted until she was holding Sunny in a deathly grip.

“F-fuck. Sunn-ny. Slow… slow down.”

It seemed that the request was desperately needed by both lovers, because rather than simply slow down, Sunny fell over. Joy’s pussy immediately craved to be filled again, but she knew she needed to clear her head. And besides that, she still had an odd full sensation. When her muscles relaxed enough for her to move of her own volition, she reached beneath herself and recoiled again at the feeling of a drenched butt plug. Her fingertips carried a puddle of mixed cum and lube back up.

“I’m sorry… Joy… I think that’s all I have left in me,” Sunny said between gasps.

Joy made note of her own throat and how dry it was. Whatever sound she was making while she borderline hallucinated, she’d be regretting it for a while. “All good. I was losing my sanity. That was unbelievable.”

Sunny giggled. It sounded painful. “The vibrator… or the surprise plug?”

Joy giggled back. “The plug was definitely a surprise. Was that the one with Jiu's face in it?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” Joy sat up, her head swimming in the aftermath. “But I just think it was you using the stuff that made it so good.”

Sunny seemed invigorated by the compliments. She smiled and reached under the bed, making some noise and bringing up a bottle of water. The two of them swapped it back and forth until it was empty and then collapsed into one another, idly feeling each others' bodies up the whole time.

“Does that mean you’re up for another… night like this? Or day?” Sunny asked as she fondled Joy’s tits. It sounded like she had sobered up, at least most of the way. Joy was too afraid of what she would see to look at a clock.

“You fucking know it,” Joy responded while she brushed her fingers up and down Sunny’s inner thighs. It was a reflex for her to agree, but she cringed inwardly as soon as she did, realizing how much more sober she had become herself, and how she wished she wasn’t. She was thinking about Cheungae again.

There was a barrage of light kisses all over her face, neck, and chest. Sunny looked far too happy for Joy to feel okay about retracting her statement.

“Maybe not right now though,” Joy said, just in case Sunny was already getting ideas. “We should really get to bed.”

She didn’t hear any arguments. They simply got up, and only long enough to flip up the duvet, flinging all of the remaining sex toys off, and jumped underneath.

It took a minute for Joy to realize she needed to remove the surprise butt plug. It was easy enough, and she ended up tossing it to the floor without looking at it.

Joy wrapped herself around Sunny. She was usually the big spoon, not that it bothered her. Sunny’s bare back felt comfortably hot against her chest and stomach. Cheungae liked being the big spoon too. He’d swap with her all the time…

“Hey, Sunny?”

“Mmm?” Sunny was on the verge of sleep, it seemed.

Joy lowered her voice, barely above a whisper. “Have you ever thought about… Settling down, I guess? Just being with one person?”

She didn’t expect Sunny to have an immense store of wisdom, but she hoped for more than what she got: a snore.

“Good night to you too, Sunny.”

[missymurphy1985]

The Revenge

Cillian and y/n had been together for 5 years, only these last few months he'd become seriously complacent and distant. Time for a wake up call.

Warnings - smut. This was a request from @being-worthy , I hope you like it!!

7pm. 7:15pm. 7:30pm. You kept glancing at your watch, the waiter bringing you another glass of wine as you sat, positively seething at the table. The third date night in a row he'd missed, and this was made you especially mad. Your anniversary meal. 5 years to the day since he asked you to be with him, properly be with him, after 2 months of being fuck buddies on the set of Peaky Blinders. You'd bagged the job of being his umbrella girl, so spent most of your time with him, and one thing had led to another after he'd invited you in for a game of cards and a bottle of Jameson's. Strip poker became your new favourite game.

You downed the wine, paid the bill and called a taxi back to your shared apartment. Walking in, he was nowhere to be found. Locking the door, seeing his keys still on the table in the hallway, you turned your phone off and went to bed.

"Sleep on the fucking porch, dickhead."

Waking up the following morning and turning on you phone to 17 missed calls and 7 voicemails, she smiled. Deleting all of them, she slipped one of his shirts on, and made her way downstairs to hear the front door being pounded. Smiling, you opened it to see Cillian stood there with a look of pure rage.

"Morning baby, have a good evening?" You opened it allowing him to enter.

"Where the fuck were you?? I've just spent the night sleeping in the fucking car y/n, why was your phone turned off?" He barged his way in, pushing past you to get to the toilet, his bladder screaming from inside him.

"Sleeping. Battery must have died. Shouldn't have left your house keys, should you?"

"Fucks sake... I'm going to bed." He stalked upstairs, not looking at you and went to bed. Now, you were really angry.

When he came back down a couple of hours later, he was still mad at you. Wouldn't say two words to you as you sat in the living room watching TV, coffee in hand. Into the kitchen he sulked, slamming cupboard doors to make his frustration clear to you. You just smiled.

You were showered now, but still wearing his shirt, buttons done low, exposing your cleavage, with no underwater underneath. You were determined now, plan in action, he was going to suffer for this. Walking into the kitchen, you opened the fridge to get some orange juice, bending completely Dr the waist, exposing your bare backside under the shirt. You felt his eyes on you, watching you, and inwardly grinned, though he couldn't see as your hips swayed slightly as you bent further to grab the juice at the bottom of the fridge. Standing back up, you turned to face him, shirt hanging off your shoulder now exposing almost down to your bare nipple, you straightened your body to drink from the carton, then bent again to place it back in the fridge. His eyes didn't leave your body once as he sat at the breakfast bar with a slice of toast.

"You mad at me, y/n?"

"Hmm? Why would I be made at you, now Cillian?" You smiled sweetly, noticing a small drop of juice on your finger, you licked it as seductively as possible, winked and left the room. Now he was confused... And hard. You smiled, knowing exactly what effect you'd had on him and went upstairs to get ready.

"I'm meeting Orla for lunch, I'll be back by 4." You called from the stairs.

"Tell my sister I said hello, yeah?"

"Maybe." You went upstairs to get dressed, within 20minutes you were out the door.

The following morning, you woke to find Cillian in his office downstairs on his laptop. You'd avoided him most of the previous evening, making him sleep in the guest bedroom. Sure to keep him out of the bedroom you shared, you'd locked your door.

Perking your nipples slightly to harden them, you stood at his office door.

"Hey... Um..." He glanced at you at the door and had to swallow a gasp. You winked at him, before making your way back upstairs. You heard him growl slightly, close his laptop and follow you. Sadly for him, you made your way into the bathroom, and locked the door. Bath time.

Sinking your body under the water, you could hear Cillian moving around upstairs, just outside the bathroom door.

"Y/n will you tell me what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong?" He paused outside the door knocking lightly.

"Mmm.... God this bath feels nice... Warm water on my skin... Fuck I needed this..." You moaned as seductively as possible, keeping your voice just loud enough so he could hear you.

"Y/n open the door... I can make that bath even better..." His voice deepened. This was working like a dream.

"Mm.... Don't you have another appointment with your agent Cillian?" He knew he was in trouble. You never called him by his full name, it was 'Cill', 'babe', but only Cillian when he'd pissed you off. Which he'd clearly done, but had no clue as to how.

Over the course of the following fortnight, you'd kept Cillian at bay, he was still sleeping in the guest room, your bedroom door remained locked overnight (he'd tried, you'd heard him, it was fucking hysterical) while you continued to seduce and tease him mercilessly. Orla had called to say he'd even tried calling her to find out what he'd done, but good as gold, she told him she had no idea what he was talking about.

Cillian had had enough at this point. He'd even tried getting himself off at night but he couldn't do it - his hands just weren't as good as yours, it wasn't the same. He genuinely thought his balls were going to explode, the tension inside him was driving him insane. He called his sister Orla again when you went out to do the food shop, desperate this time.

"Orla I need your help please, I'm your brother... Please? Surely she's told you what it is I'm supposed to have done wrong? All I did was go out with Adam for one night and she's barely spoken to me and hasn't TOUCHED me since!"

"Woah now, that's waaaay to much info for your sister to be hearing now!" She laughed at the other end of the phone, rolling her eyes. Y/n had done very well to keep this up for two whole weeks.. maybe it was time for some sisterly advice for her older brother.

"Cillian when did you go out? What date?"

"Few days after my birthday, so the 30th May I think, why?"

"No, it wasn't the 30th. Think again. Check your dates." He put his phone on loudspeaker and checked his calendar. Then it dawned on him. Oh fuck... Oh shit... Shit shit shit!!

"The 27th.. oh fuck Orla it was the 27th.. and I'm looking at the fucking calender entry for our date night saved as a fucking DRAFT!! I didn't set it properly... Oh fuck Orla I'm a dead man, how's she not killed me?"

"I think in a way she has Cillian!! You've got some serious making up to do - not like the first time it's happened now is it?" He groaned... This would be the hat trick. Three date nights missed because he couldn't work the fucking calendar app on his new phone properly.. but that excuse wasn't going to wash now, he'd had plenty of opportunity to sort his sorry ass out. And to miss their anniversary dinner? No. He'd make this right. He thanked his sister, ended the call and opened a different app on his phone. Operation Clemency was in motion.

****************************************

You left your friends house on Friday afternoon to see Cillian's car parked outside. You could see bags on the back seat, him standing by the open passenger side door waiting for you.

"What are you doing Cillian?"

"Surprising my girlfriend. Listen y/n, I've been a fucking idiot okay? Missing our anniversary date, after missing two before that.. neglecting you, neglecting US... Let me make it up to you, yeah?" You couldn't help but smile, nodding your head you took his hand as he led you into the passenger seat, closing the door behind you.

All the way there you stole glances at one another, Cillian refusing to tell you exactly where you were going. You couldn't help the feeling of excitement - never in 5 years had he done anything like this, you'd have to make a habit of punishing him if this was the outcome..

Pulling up outside a large manor house an hour later, you gasped in shock.

"Shit.. Cill this is beautiful!"

"It's ours." You nearly had whiplash from the sudden head turn in his direction. "I bought it last month, I was waiting until your birthday next week to surprise you, but now seemed like a much better option. Welcome to our new holiday home baby." You couldn't help the tears forming in your eyes.

"Oh my god... But how? When? I don't understand!"

"All those appointments with my agent? Didn't you wonder why I wasn't getting any work from it all? I was at the bank sorting the mortgage for this place! Picked the keys up yesterday, it's fully furnished and ready for us. I figured we could spend the Summers here. Beach is less than a 5 minute walk away, the boys will love it." You were stunned. Well and truly stunned.

Leaving the car, you walked to the front door, Cillian handing you the keys. You opened it and walked inside into the most beautiful setting - it was newly decorated exactly to your liking. It was perfect. You turned to face him.

"You know, I might just forgive you after all..."

"Nope. Not yet. I'm not done." He smirked. "I want you to go upstairs - our room is second on the left. Lay down on the bed and I'll be up in 15 minutes." Raising an eyebrow, you complied, walking up the stairs eagerly anticipating what he had planned. "Fully clothed y/n... Don't remove a damn thing."

You walked in to find a large double bed with fresh sheets, covered in rose petals. Candles lined most of the hard surfaces in the room. It brought a lump to your throat. A fresh bouquet of flowers on the chest of drawers under the window, with a small envelope under them, your name written in Cillians hand writing. You opened it to find a two tickets to the new Enda Walsh play showing at the Gaiety later that week - it was sold out and you remembered telling him you were disappointed to miss it, but when you're Cillian Murphy, sold out meant nothing.

Hearing him coming up the stairs you quickly lay down on top of dozens of rose petals on the bed. He walked in slowly, casting an eye over your body. This would be the hardest thing to do now, trying to control himself, but he was determined to make this last as long as possible. Moving to the old record player in the corner of the room, he turned it on, allowing the gentle sounds of the music to fill the room softly. Making his way over to you, he kneeled on the bed, eyes never leaving yours.

"You're not to move unless I tell you to, okay? Just relax. Sit up." You sat up as he lifted your t shirt over your head, swiftly followed by your bra. Pushing you back down and turning you onto your front, he carefully sat himself across your legs, opening a small bottle of something you couldn't see. Suddenly his hands were on your back, smoothing the oil into your skin, putting pressure all over it. Closing your eyes, you relaxed into the massage as he skilfully eased away as many knots as he could find in your slender muscles.

"Fuck... Cill that feels amazing... Don't stop, please..." He bit his lip, he could feel his erection forming under his jeans and willed himself to have self control. Two weeks without touching you was a long time...

He moved his hands lower, teasing the waistband of your jeans as he moved his body down, pulling them over your hips, underwear following. Now you were completely bare, his hands now expertly rubbing hard circles over your thighs, your calves, then your feet. Your core was burning now, his touch, even after 5 years, doing things to your body you still couldn't believe we're possible. Your hips twitched slightly with the throbbing feeling you couldn't ignore deep in your groin. He could almost smell it, the need in you. Smiling, his hands moved back up your legs, dipping between your thighs and moving closer to where you desperately needed him. He grinned, and teased his fingers closer, then pulled them away. Back over your firm cheeks, up your spine slowly. You groaned, you were positively on fire now.

"Patience..." You bit your lip as he whispered in your ear. He turned you onto your back, now running his hands over your belly as he moved back to hover over your waist. Hands moving higher, he kneaded your breasts, knowing it would drive you crazy.

"Ahh... Fuck Cill... Baby please..." He chuckled, this was more fun than he anticipated, why had he never thought of this before?

Leaning down, he trailed a line of kisses long your exposed neck, your head flung back as he continued his assault on your breasts. Nipping the skin, sucking lightly, you arched against him. You felt close to an orgasm already and he hadn't even got to the good part yet. Your breath coming out in short bursts as his lips moved lower over your collarbone.

"Feel good baby? Feeling close huh? Keep those noises coming, fuck you're turning me on right now..." His voice was intoxicating, his hands roaming, now his lips, you couldn't stop the heat rising in your belly, that familiar knot forming, how was this even possible? You didn't care, and you couldn't stop it - you came hard, bucking your hips up to meet his as it overtook you.

"Fuck... Baby oh my god...." You came down from your high and looked into his eyes, now darker and desperate. He was trying so hard to control it but the control had gone. He hadn't expected you to cum from this alone, clearly he wasn't the only one who'd gone without these last 2 weeks.

"Take them off." He didn't argue. His clothes were removed quick as lightening as he opened your still quivering legs. He quickly pushed himself inside and stopped, just enjoying the feeling of your core swallowing him again.

"Jesus.. I swear you got tighter..." You raised your hands to his face and glared at him.

"Shut up, and fuck me Mr Murphy." With pleasure, he thought to himself, as he pounded into you hard and fast, both of you groaning into each others mouths as you kissed hungrily, desperate to get as physically close as possible. You rolled him onto his back, keeping him inside you, as you leaned back and rode him hard. You moved his hands to hold onto the bed frame behind him.

"You've touched me enough, it's my turn." Your hands roamed over your own breasts now, hips still rocking against his, your second orgasm fast approaching. You knew, after 2 weeks of abstinence, he wouldn't last long and you were right.

"Baby.. slow down.. I can't... Oh fuck... Ah... Feels too good..." He was raising his hips to meet yours, you felt your orgasm taking over.

"Cum baby... Need to feel you... Fill me up... Drown in me..." He couldn't hold back any longer and with a final, hard groan he came, filling you. His hands came to rest at your frozen hips, he felt your walls clench around him as you came alongside him, both of you breathing heavily as you came back down to earth from the most exquisite high either of you had ever had. Leaning your body back down to kiss his lips, you gave him one more squeeze of your walls, emitting a twitch and a gasp from him, before collapsing next to him.

"Fuck... My god Cill, I'm gonna have to punish you like this more often..."

"The fuck you are y/n, never again are we going more than 24 hours without sex, ever.. I don't care how mad you are at me.." you both laughed, curling up in each others arms, Cillian whispering how sorry he was in your ear, how much he loved you, as you gently fell asleep.

The following morning you woke to an empty bed, but you could smell coffee and breakfast being prepared downstairs. You made your way down wearing just his T shirt from the day before and found a full breakfast waiting for you. Sausages, eggs, bacon, toast, juice, croissants... All there on the countertop. A plate, cutlery and a coffee waiting for you.

"Just missing the pinny Mr Murphy..." You giggled as he turned and stuck his tongue out at you cheekily.

"Eat up and get dressed y/n, I'm taking you for a walk this morning." Smiling, you ate, and an hour later you were stood on the beautiful golden sands of the beach 5minutes from your new holiday home. Watching the waves crash, you were the happiest you'd felt in a long time. You heard Cillian behind you.

"Turn around, y/n." As you did, he took your hands in his and kissed your lips.

"If I have to spend every single day for the rest of my life saying how sorry I am, I will. If I have to spend every second making it up to you, I will. You have completed my life y/n.. after my divorce, I didn't think I'd ever be lucky enough to find love again. Then you came along and everything slotted into place. My boys adore you.. their Dad couldn't live without you.. y/n..." He sank down to the ground, reaching into his jeans pocket. Bringing a small, velvet box back up to you, your breath caught in your throat, tears already in your eyes.

"Make me the luckiest man in the world y/n.. marry me?" You fell to the floor alongside him, tears openly falling now as you cried, pulling him close, kissing him softly.

"Yes!! Oh my god a million times over, yes I'll marry you!!" You both grinned, standing now as he held out your left hand, slipping the simple, white gold band and diamond onto your finger. Nothing else mattering in that moment apart from the dreams you both shared of the amazing future you had ahead of you.

@queenshelby @peakyscillian @ntmynouis @being-worthy @margoo0 @cloudofdisney

[bucksangel]

A Love That Lasts

a/n: this is a REPOST from my old account @losaslut​ since i’m deleting that blog i’m reposting it here

Pairing: Hank Loza x Reader (non descript reader but if i missed anything please let me know)

Inspo came from this post by @withmyteeth 💕💕

Warnings: none except for tooth rotting fluff and so much love it’ll kill you

Word Count: 2.8k

Moodboard made by me

It’s nearing two in the afternoon, you’ve been cleaning and re-cleaning for about three hours now to distract you from the fact that Hank got called to go to the clubhouse. “It’s an emergency” is all he told you. Never mind that today is your anniversary, you’re more upset because it’s Saturday, a day both you and Hank agreed that nothing would get in the way of your time together. But, you understand, you’re always understanding. If the club needs him, then he’s there. But as understanding as you are it still doesn’t take away the ache in your chest from not having your boyfriend home with you.

Hence why you’re cleaning. It acts as a good enough distraction but you’re quickly derailed from your tasks by Bishop calling you, and concern is all you feel now. With the ‘emergency’ that’s happening at the clubhouse, your thoughts are spiraling, but the one at the front of your mind is that Hank is hurt, he must be.

You’re quick to answer the phone, fingers shaking and your heart pounding. “Is Hank okay?” You ask, demand really. You’re already shoving your shoes on before Bishop even speaks.

“You should get to the clubhouse, sweetheart.” Bishop’s voice is calm, almost melancholy, and you’re pushed into even more of a worry when the call cuts out.

You can’t help the tears that pool beneath your eyes, nor the shakiness of your hands as you fumble with the keys. Nor can you help the absolute dread in your heart at the thought that Hank could be hurt. He can’t be, your brain tells you, he can’t do this to you, not today. So, you rush out of the house, shoes untied, and make the ten minute drive to the clubhouse. Those ten minutes feel like ten hours, every red light only serving to aggravate you further, but it gives you time to think. Think, really, is not the right word. Worry is more like it. You spend those ten minutes worrying yourself into a panic, preparing for the what if’s.

And when you do finally make it to the clubhouse, you barely have the car parked before you’re tripping over yourself to run up the stairs and slam open the doors, searching frantically for Hank. You don’t find him though, in fact, no one is in the clubhouse. And if you weren’t in such a rush to get to your boyfriend you’d realize that none of the guys’ bikes are out front either. Looking around the room, your confusion triples. Hanging along the walls are fairy lights, meeting in the middle of the roofing to create a canopy that surrounds the lone table in the middle of the room. The lights have been dimmed, a single candle along with two plates of what you assume is Hank’s cooking (you’d recognize the smell anywhere) and an empty vase sit on the table.

You don’t have much time to figure what this could all be about before Hank comes out from the back, stepping into the light and wearing clothes he definitely did not leave the house in. He’s in his nicest pair of jeans (the only ones without grease stains), a simple black button up with the sleeves pushed to his elbows (swoon), and most notably: he’s not wearing his kutte. Now, you’re more amused than anything. It’s clear this must have been a set up, that Hank must have faked the emergency to set all of this up. For what, you’re unsure of. You could be pissed that he lied to you, pissed that he put you through the worry, and you are, sort of. Yes you’re mad that he tricked you, but you’re more in awe over the fact that he put this together for you, like something from a fairytale.

Hank is the first to step towards you, one arm is behind his back while the other reaches out to you. He takes slow and deliberate steps, and you take only one towards him before his hand grasps yours and you’re pulled into his chest, his arm wrapping around you. During this hug you recognize two things. One being that his heart is beating at a rapid pace, it thumps in his chest where your cheek lies. Two being that, with the way your arms are wrapped around his waist, you can feel flower stems. Now, it should be said that you’re not the most intuitive, but you’re starting to suspect this has to do with something bigger than just an anniversary date.

Before you know it, Hank has placed a gentle kiss to the top of your head and pulled back to really look at you. You’re starting to feel underdressed in just shorts and one of Hank’s shirts tucked into it, but with the way your man is looking at you, you can’t help but feel like the most beautiful person in the world. Your arms travel from his back to smooth over his sides and run up his chest, one hand placed behind his neck and the other one fiddling with the top two buttons of his shirt that are undone.

And you smile, you’re smiling so wide it hurts but you don’t care, all you care about is how Hank is staring at you. So much adoration pouring out of him that it makes you want to cry (but you’re using all your willpower to not, you’re going to save your tears for the end of the night). When Hank pulls the flowers from behind his back, four light pink roses (one for every year you’ve been together), you laugh. You’re not sure what else to do honestly, you’re filled with so much happiness and love for your man that it bursts out of you in a laugh that Hank swears is the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Baby-” You’re cut off by Hank kissing you, not too deep, not what some would call passionate, but a soft and slow kiss that lets you know that he’s here, he loves you and he wants you to know it. When he pulls back, your head is spinning for a different reason, spinning with love and thoughts of wanting this to last forever, until the end of time. “What’s all this about?” You breathe out, the wind almost knocked out of you while your brain tries to catch up to the situation.

Hank’s smile widens, and he lets go of you so he can walk over to the table and place the roses in the vase. Turning back to you, he extends his arm again, and once you’re close he lifts your hands up and presses a kiss to your knuckles. And once again, you’re swooning, heart so filled with something you’re sure is greater than love. “You didn’t think I would actually leave you alone on our anniversary, did you?” Hank chuckles softly, kissing your hands again before stepping to the side and pulling out a chair for you to sit in.

“How long did it take you to put this up?” You ask, looking around at the beauty that surrounds you, still in awe of it all.

“Well,” Hank chuckles again, “It was supposed to take an hour at most, but you know how the guys are with getting distracted.” Both of you laugh at this, because it’s true. You wouldn’t doubt that Angel and Coco were probably causing more of a mess than actually helping. Hank sits next to you, and takes your hand in his again. “But I will admit, this has been a few weeks of planning.”

Four years together and Hank still knows how to take your breath away, he still manages to surprise you in everything he does. But you don’t get a chance to speak before he’s pushing your plate closer to you (not his BBQ for once, but an alfredo pasta dish that you’re starting to recognize as the same dish he cooked a few weeks ago, and then again last week (probably preparing and perfecting the recipe)). So, you don’t say anything, you both dig into dinner while throwing glances at each other like teenagers going on their first date, and it’s perfect.

Dessert comes next, Hank goes to the back again and reemerges holding a pie that he definitely made himself (he’ll deny it if you tell anyone, but he does happen to be a pretty solid baker). Through dessert, you’re talking softly about anything and everything. You’re both just happy to be close and together that you don’t bother with any heavy topics. At one point, Hank makes you laugh so hard you throw your head back and snort (something that’s never happened before you met your boyfriend (because that’s how happy he makes you, so unable to control your reactions)).

And when you look up at him, ready to tell him about your adventures yesterday while visiting your mother yesterday, your voice cuts off. Hank is moving towards the bar where, how did you not notice it, a stereo rests. He’s quick to press a few buttons and a soft tune fills the air. It must be something from a symphony, with how melodic and peaceful it is. He returns to your side to pull you from your chair, and you don’t even have time to think when suddenly Hank twirls you around and pulls you into his chest. And the next thing you know, you’re being twirled all around the room, Hank’s hand covering your hand that rests on his chest and his other arm wrapped around your waist.

You’re giggling almost the entire time, both of you gazing into each other’s eyes and smiles so soft that if anyone were to see you, they’d probably be sick with how in love you two are. The songs flow into each other, and you dance for what feels like hours (realistically it’s probably been twenty minutes), no words spoken besides whispering I love you’s periodically. When the songs finally end and you’re both dizzy from the spins and the dips, you both step back from each other and again, the clubhouse is silent. It’s not an eerie kind of silence, but a pleasant one. Being with Hank has taught you that you don’t always need to talk to be able to understand what someone’s feeling. And what you’re feeling right now is an emotion so overwhelming, you do cry. You’re not sobbing, just letting out a few tears from the happiness that flows through your blood.

Hank wipes away your tears, presses a kiss to each cheek, and whisks you away to the back porch where, again, you’re caught off guard by the sheer beauty of it all. More lights are strung up on various boxes and around chairs. The fire pit is lit and the flames dance upwards, filling the space with light and warmth. It’s not until you turn around that you notice blankets and pillows piled together to create a make-shift bed. In front of the set up is the side of the clubhouse, empty. Your thoughts as to what this could be about are answered as Hank steps away from you to turn on a projector that’s sitting on top of a crate, a laptop next to it. You watch as he fiddles with the machines and when you turn back, the projector comes to life, casting light to the otherwise blank wall. When the opening credits of Little Women start playing (because let’s be real, it’s a cinematic masterpiece and the scene with Jo in the attic makes you cry every single time) you don’t bother to wait for your boyfriend while you rush to the pile of blankets (and wow does it feel like you’re on a cloud).

If you could see Hank, you’d see the nervousness plain as day etched into his face, you’d see how his hands shake ever so slightly, you’d see how he gazes at you with a love that even he can’t quite wrap his head around. But soon enough, he joins you in your own little paradise. He wraps you in his arms and lays you against his chest and kisses your head, and you know. You know that this is what heaven feels like. Laying in your man’s arms, feeling his feather-light kisses placed anywhere he can reach, feeling his love radiating off of him and getting absorbed by your mind, body, and soul.

You’re maybe halfway through the movie when Hank shifts and reaches into his pocket (trying so very hard to be stealthy so as to not alert you to what he’s doing (he does, but you don’t say anything)). When you’re both finally settled and the movie continues on, you don’t even realize Hank is fiddling with your fingers, nor do you realize the sudden cool metal that slipped onto your ring finger. It’s not until a whopping eight minutes later (Hank was counting) that he pulls your hand up to his lips and places a delicate kiss onto your knuckles. You turn in his arms, leaning your head back and using the hand that he was holding to rest on his cheek, and pull him down to meet your lips.

The kiss is soft and slow, like you’ve got all the time in the world to just sit here and relish in each other’s love. You move to deepen the kiss and then all of a sudden Hank’s pulling back, grabbing your left hand again, and placing another soft kiss to your knuckles. Only then do you realize why he’d been so focused on your hands, specifically your left one. Because on it rests the most beautiful ring you’ve ever seen. Small diamonds line a gold band, with a slightly larger diamond in the middle. It’s simple, and with the lights all around you it glimmers with every twist of your hand.

You’re too stunned to speak, too in love with Hank to express how your heart is ripping apart and is being replaced by everything him. You’re staring at the ring, mouth open and tears now heavily pouring down your cheeks. And when you finally get your wits about you, you scramble to turn and face Hank, straddling him and placing both hands on his face, eyes searching desperately to find any sense of humor, any sign that he’s joking.

But you don’t find any of that. You find tears gathering in his eyes as he leans you forward to press your forehead against his. His voice is soft, almost afraid to speak too loud and ruin the moment. “Amor,” He stops, taking a deep breath before speaking again, “You’re my everything, my heart and soul, you’re the courage I need to take on anything and everything. You’re…” He pauses again, and a stray tear falls out of his left eye. He pulls you back a fraction so he can stare deep into your eyes, one hand holding your waist and the other takes your hands from his face so he can kiss them once again. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to me. And I hope you keep happening to me for the rest of our lives. I’m pleading, make me the happiest man in the world and say you’ll marry me.”

Hank barely gets out the last word as you smash your lips to his, it’s a little messy, and you do miss his lips at first, but it’s perfect. You’re unable to sustain the kiss for long with how heavy you’re breathing, so instead, you peck his lips once, twice, and then one more time. And then you’re pulling back, and Hank will swear to the end of his days that you’re glowing, shining so bright as you stare at him, and he wants to make you feel like this always. He wants to make you so happy, he wants you to feel the love that he feels, the love that has consumed his entire being.

“Ask me,” You breathe out, lips curved up and shaking from the sob that’s threatening to burst. Hank looks confused at first, so you continue, “You have to ask me first, then I can say yes.”

Hank laughs, he tilts his head back to rest against the pillow behind him and looks up at you with the softest smile to ever grace his beautiful face. “I guess you’re right. So, will you marry me?” And this time, you laugh.

You’re giggling from the sheer happiness of it all, so much that you’re barely able to get out your answer, “Of course I will, handsome.”

The movie’s ended, but you and Hank are still lying wrapped in each other’s arms, content to spend the rest of your lives like this. And you’re hoping with everything in you that this love doesn’t fade, that you’ll be this happy and this in love when you’re both old and gray. But you also know that it won’t. The love you feel could never fade even if you wanted it to (and by the grace of god, you’ll never want to stop loving him).

And while you’re there, in your slice of heaven, you’re already planning the wedding in your head, too excited to become a Loza.