#saw the movie last night it was pretty good

[snzleclerc]

pt 2!!

here you can find the other parts of Pour Tojours

-

The Monaco air tousled my hair as I walked back home from work today, and most days, actually. Monaco is practically tiny, and I don't need a car. Well, I do, but it's not a priority at the moment since I have my own private driver, Arthur.

Today is a Friday night, and neither Arthur nor Charles are out for races, since the next one will only be next week. Taking advantage of this, Pascale, my heart mother, decided to host a small dinner at her place, just for the boys, their girlfriends, and me.

Arthur broke up with Carla not long ago. At first, he seemed pretty down, cried often, and poured his heart out, but after a while, everything went back to normal.

Lorenzo is with Charlotte; they are the perfect couple, like they came out of a romance movie, where both are madly in love - and I'm expecting a baby.

And Charles, well, according to what Arthur tells me, he and his girlfriend aren't in the best situation at the moment.

I never had much contact with the middle Leclerc; at first, I was shy, and as we grew up, he got busier with races, which didn't help our relationship. It's actually been a while since I last saw him.

I enter my building and head up to my apartment, which has white walls, but with many warm lights, comfortable furniture, cool air, and a specific smell that only exists in my home. It's a smell of comfort, peace, but also reminiscent of anguish, fear, and uncertainty that has surrounded me since last year.

I shake my head to avoid thinking about it and head to my room. It's not too hot or too cold this late afternoon, so dark blue jeans and a simple black blouse are the best option, along with my black Adidas Campus 00's and a simple handbag.

I reach for my phone to call Arthur; he was at the market with Lorenzo, buying things for dinner, and would then pick me up. It's always good to arrive before dinner time so we can catch up on everything happening in our lives (even though we know absolutely everything) and make each other laugh.

Arthur is close, even though sometimes I feel him a bit distant, you know? Yes, motorsport is his dream, but most of the time he's away for races and we don't see each other, only via FaceTime. But I know this is one of the most important things in his life and also reminds him a lot of his father and Jules.

Lost in my thoughts, I hear my phone ring to see an audio message on my screen.

"Hi Lou! Are you ready? Enzo and I are getting close!" He says amidst laughter; surely, Lorenzo made some silly joke to him, and he laughed himself to tears.

"Hi Arthurito! I'm already heading down, don't worry." I send the audio, take a final look in the mirror, and head downstairs, and soon after that, I see a Ferrari approaching me.

The boys smile and greet me, and I get into the car, only to find Charles sitting next to me in the back seat.

"Oh, hi Charles." The words come out of my mouth in a low sound, and I feel a slight shiver run through my body. Why is that?

"Hi, lapine." He replies, timid like me, with those perfectly placed dimples on his face, but what hits me the most is 'lapine'.

'Lapine' was the nickname he and Jules gave me when we were younger. There's no reason for it, but it's stayed in my heart all these years.

And of course, I can't help but notice those eyes. Those green eyes that, even though I haven't paid much attention to them over time, whenever I look at them, I feel an inexplicable sensation, a feeling of care, affection, and love, even without exchanging words.

[separatist-apologist]

Hot To Go

Summary: During Nesta's bachelor party, everyone agrees to pick out an embarrassing shirt for someone else. Emerie is game to play along until she realizes her long-standing crush Morrigan will be at the same bar.

Good thing Mor has a sense of humor.

For @ablogofsapphicpanic | Read on AO3

Thank you @octobers-veryown for the last minute moodboard

Fic based on this tiktok

“Nesta, please,” Emerie complained, holding the tissue papered bag sitting in her lap. “We don’t have—”

“Open it,” Nesta interrupted, crowned queen of the weekend by a plastic silver tiara. A white sash crossed her body with the words BRIDE-TO-BE stamped across it in purple lettering. Nesta wanted a different kind of bachelorette party—one where they spent the majority of their long weekend indoors watching movies and reading books. There was a pool out back they’d spent the morning lounging beside but tonight Emerie Archeron had convinced her older sister that they should go to the bar just once.

And then meddlesome, annoying, stupid Elain had made the worst suggestion Emerie had ever heard. What if we picked out bad shirts for each other? What if Emerie slapped her across the face, what then? Nesta would be pissed and Elain would cry, that's what would happen. Emerie didn’t want to go to the bar where she’d be surrounded by men in too tight t-shirts and hair gelled to the heavens. And she certainly didn’t want to spend the night pulling those same drunk losers off her friends only to get called a whole host of slurs she didn’t care to repeat.

Their husbands and boyfriends will kill you for fun, I’m doing you a favor. 

If only you could casually mention that to strangers. As if those pathetic dudes would listen. Emerie would have to call up Azriel again, and Azriel’s general demeanor would destroy the vibe she had spent so much time cultivating. Even when he was incandescently happy he was brooding. Gwyn would spend all her time sitting in his lap while Nesta, Emerie, and Elain all blushed furiously every time he spoke, as if there was anything terribly special about him. Objectively, she supposed he was handsome but so what? A lot of men were.

Emerie was the last person at the table. With reluctance, she pulled out the glittery pink paper that had clearly been put together by Elain. It was simply too pretty to have been done by anyone else. 

Unfolding the black material, Emerie groaned when she saw the image printed on the fabric. A brown meatball wearing leather bondage gear stared back at her. Even if she hadn’t understood the pun, the shirt ensure everyone would get the joke thanks to the white lettering that read: Meatball Sub. 

Elain clapped her hands together, eyes bright with delight. “I thought that was so funny.” Don’t ruin this, Emerie thought to herself. Meeting the brown eyes of Nesta’s younger sister from across the table, she forced an easy smile on her face.

“It is funny,” she lied. It was stupid. But this was for Nesta, and Emerie loved Nesta more than she hated the shirt. She’d bought so many nice outfits for this trip—tight slacks and even tighter tanktops, bodycon dresses that weren’t her favorite but looked good, paired with tall heels that made her tower over her friends, and even cute little shorts and t-shirts that showed off her body should some hot girl in a bikini be wandering by.

“Lets change and then head out,” Nesta said, cheeks flushed with excitement. Emerie shot a look at Gwyn, who merely shrugged delicate shoulders in response. They were sharing a room in the cabin Emerie’s husband had graciously given up for the next four days—if cabin was even what it could be called. More like massive-beach-house-worth-millions, but Emerie wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth. It was interesting to her the way rich people described their things. This was hardly a cabin and yet to Rhysand, maybe it was. Maybe he considered this slumming it, somehow. 

“It’s just a couple hours,” Gwyn reminded Emerie once the door to their shared room was firmly shut. 

“I hate these bars,” Emerie complained, flopping onto the twin bed closest to the window. “It’s spring break—they’re crawling with frat douche losers that have never been told no in their lives.”

“You know why she really wants to go, right?” Gwyn asked, pulling her shirt off to put the offensive one overtop. 

“If you say Cassian—”

“He’s somewhere around here, and I think she just wants to see him,” Gwyn said with a relish. “He was giving her all that shit about staying in when she should be going wild. Now Nesta can show him she’s having fun his way, too.”

“And what happens when Az catches some loser putting his hands on you?” Emerie asked, rising up on her elbows to look at Gwyn.

“He’ll have to deal with it in an emotionally intelligent way.”

“Is that what he’s calling his fists these days?”

Gwyn grinned. “Just let her have this. One night of embarrassment for a weekend of quiet.”

“Fine.”

Emerie got ready like she would for any other club-like event, putting a full face of make up on and carefully curling her hair to make it look as though she’d come straight from the beach once she finger combed out the waves into messy waves. All that was left was the stupid shirt and a pair of skin tight leggings beneath.

There were never any interesting women at these places. It almost didn’t matter what she looked like, except Emerie took a small amount of satisfaction knowing that when a man inevitably called her an ugly bitch they’d be lying through their teeth. 

Gwyn had done even less, slicking on some mascara and tinted chapstick before calling it a day. Of the three of them, these types of places made her the most uncomfortable. She’d go only for Nesta, and was likely only smiling because she believed Azriel was going to be there. Still, Gwyn never tried to accentuate how beautiful she was, nervous of the unwanted attention—as if what had happened to her was her fault.

“Want to stick together?” Emerie asked, noting the way Gwyn’s teal eyes filled with relief.

“Yes,” she breathed, rising to her feet. Emerie tugged at the too-big shirt that fell just beneath the curve of her ass, wishing she was wearing anything else.

“If it starts getting rowdy, we can go somewhere else,” Emerie promised, looping her arm through Gwyn’s.

“I was googling lesbian bars,” Gwyn said with a grin. “There’s one a couple blocks away if you want to…you know…” “Shut up,” Emerie said, elbowing her friend gently in the ribs. 

“It’s been a while,” Gwyn pressed on, undaunted by Emerie’s obvious embarrassment. “And I didn’t like the last girl, whatever her name was. Too…”

Emerie sighed. “Unfaithful?”

“That too,” Gwyn said with a scowl. 

“I don’t think you meet marriageable women at bars,” Emerie reminded Gwyn, annoyed that Cassian had met Nesta in a college bar and was now marrying her. It had started off a chain reaction in their tiny friend group—Azriel was so obviously just biding his time, waiting for Cassian to get married so he could propose.

And then Emerie would be the only single person among married women. Would they even want to hang out with her anymore? Would they stay friends? It kept her up at night. Emerie knew if she gave voice to these insecurities, her friends would rush to reassure her it wasn’t true and she’d feel no better. She just wasn’t having the same luck in the romance department.

Squeezing into one car, Emerie managed to snag the passenger seat from Elain, who pouted in the back but otherwise said nothing. If nothing else, Emerie considered that a victory even if she was out voted and Taylor Swift blared the entire way to the bar. 

“It’s busy,” Nesta said, eyes scanning the line of people waiting to get in. 

“Send Elain up,” Emerie suggested, glancing at her older sister.

“In this?” Elain demanded as she held out her comically oversized shirt. “Don’t make me.”

It didn’t matter, ultimately. The bouncer caught sight of Nesta strolling by in heels and waved her in while eyeing her up and down. Nesta pretended she didn’t notice but both Emerie and Emerie did, glaring daggers from just behind her before handing over their ID.

And then they were inside. The music was so loud Emerie could barely hear herself think, teeth rattling in time with the beat. It was her job to elbow through the crowd hanging around the bar and scream everyone's order over the music before doling out drinks while watching the man who made them. Just in case. She didn’t like the way he was open mouthed staring at Elain, who seemed to have the effect on everyone who saw her. 

While the rest of the group made their way to the dance floor, Gwyn and Emerie secured the last high top in a pretty secluded corner where the music didn’t seem to be quite so loud and they could talk. 

“I’m gonna sit closer,” Gwyn told Emerie, putting her hand over top of Emerie’s as a man began walking toward them. He turned abruptly, realizing he’d have no luck over here which had been Gwyn’s obvious goal if her triumphant smile was anything to go by. 

“Oh, look!” she said, pointing across the room. It was, just as Gwyn had predicted, Cassian and Azriel towering over the crowd, unaware that Nesta was a few feet away dancing in a god-awful shirt. As Emerie watched, she found Rhysand holding several drinks in one hand and cutting a path through a crowd that parted like the red sea. She’d have looked away, annoyed by the converging parties had she not noticed who was walking just behind Rhys.

There, in a red dress so tight it might have been painted against tanned skin, stood Morrigan. Emerie was embarrassed by how hot she thought Rhys’s cousin was, and yet… Christ. Her blonde hair cascaded like sunlight down her back and her brown eyes were crowned with gold just around the iris, visible even in the dim lighting of the club. Emerie had never been able to get words out in front of Morrigan, so she just avoided her, embarrassed to be a cliche. The lesbian with a crush on a straight girl—it was a constant theme in her life, especially when she was younger.

She’d asked Nesta about Morrigan once, who’d gone on a rant about Mor sleeping with Lucien’s dad, and Emerie had dropped the subject. There was no love lost between them—apparently Cassian and Mor had a thing a million years ago, too. 

Still. She was the most beautiful woman Emerie had ever seen, and it was a shame that beauty would be wasted on some loser that would never really appreciate her. 

“Oh, here they come,” Gwyn said, sitting up a little straighter in her chair. Cassian had caught sight of her and Gwyn, waving across the crowd as Rhys set drinks down in the booth she bet he’d paid actual money for. He beckoned for the two of them to join.

“Gwyn—”

“Rhys will pay our tab if we go,” she said, silencing any protests Emerie might offer. Rhys did always pay when they were all together and unlike Rhys, Emerie had to work for a living. If he was willing to foot the tab for overpriced drinks filled with more water than cheap vodka, who was she to say no? 

They sauntered over, Emerie’s heart racing as Mor’s eyes fell on her. She whispered something to her cousin, who stood and traded places so when she and Gwyn arrived, Mor said, “Em! Sit by me.”

Gwyn was already—and predictably—in Azriel’s lap, whispering something in his ear that made his cheeks darken noticeably. So it was like that then, was it? Emerie plopped down while Rhys shoved at Az so he could edge out space on the end of the booth.

“What are you wearing?” Mor asked, her laugh more like a herald of bells. Emerie was flustered, breathing the same air and unable to take her eyes off Mor’s red painted mouth.

“Oh. Uh…”

“It was Elain’s idea!” Gwyn called from across the table, shooting Emerie a wink they all noticed. 

Cassian rolled his eyes when he heard. “No offense, but…Meatball Sub?”

“It’s a pun,” Emerie explained in a deadpan, forgetting about Mor for just a second. Just until Mor scooted, her knee accidentally brushing Emeries. Had she meant to do that? “You know, like a meatball sub sandwich? But it’s wearing a gag, like a—”

“I get the joke!” Cassian snapped, eyes narrowed. Mor tipped her head back and laughed, unaware of how hard Emerie’s heart was beating at the sight. 

“Are you sure, Cass?” Mor asked, leaning back against the padded booth so her palm was flat against the seat. Her pinky touched Emerie’s, causing Emerie to jerk her hand back as if she’d been burned. Was that an accident, too? She was terrified to look over and realize she’d read it wrong, and more scared to look over and even more scared to look and find Mor had meant to touch her.

Mor was just friendly, she reminded herself. She was always draped all over Emerie when they were out together. It was nothing—a mere accident. 

Cassian scooted his way out to find Nesta, still scowling over at Mor and Emerie.

“So,” Mor said, turning entirely to face Emerie. She pulled her hand from the seat to rest her head against her fist. Eyes wholly focused on Emerie, she continued, “Tell me what you’ve been up to.”

“Oh…you know,” Emerie replied, suddenly embarrassed by the attention. “Nothing interesting.”

“I don’t believe that for a second. C’mon,” she cajoled, her free hand squeezing Emerie’s knee. “I want to hear about it anyway. I feel like we never get to talk and you’re so interesting!”

Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god—

“You first,” Emerie said, unsure where that came from. Mor grinned as she leaned closer, unaware of how the movement pushed her breasts up toward her neck. Emerie could see from the corner of her eye, though she was trying hard not to actually look.

“Oh, you know. I got dragged along to Cass’s bachelor party,” Mor began, looking around the bar. “This place sucks but if I smile at the bouncer, they let us all in for free.”

“Nesta did the same thing,” Emerie told Mor. “Where are you guys staying?”

She nodded with her head in the direction of the DJ. “ Rhys gave up the cabin so we’re at the resort. It’s pretty nice—I was at the pool all morning before Cass dragged us out here.”

“Same,” Emerie replied with a sigh as she leaned back in the booth. “Now I’m out…in this.”

“Stop,” Mor said as she toyed with Emerie’s sleeve. “I think it’s cute.”

“It’s not,” Emerie grumbled, heart racing all over again. Mor was so close and she smelled so good, it was making it hard to think. 

“Is…is that something you’re interested in?” Mor asked casually, eyes drifting back to the shirt.

“No!” Emerie hastened to say, embarrassed all over again. “No, nothing like that.”

“So you don’t like being tied up?” Mor pressed, eyes practically burning a hole in Emerie’s skull. 

“I…I’m not against it, I guess?” she managed, reaching for her glass to give her mouth something to do. 

Mor began twirling a lock of golden hair around a perfectly manicured finger. “What room are you staying in?”

“The upstairs one with the twin beds,” she said quickly. Mor laid her land back against the table and this time Emerie noticed that while the ring and pinkie finger were long and sharp, the middle and pointer were shorter. Blunter. 

Emerie looked up at Mor, who was watching her with cat-like intensity. Was she doing this on purpose? 

“I have my own room,” she said casually, a sly smile spreading over a truly beautiful face. “That’s the benefit of being the only girl on a guy's trip.”

“That sounds nice.”

“It’s quiet,” Mor continued, dragging her finger over the condensation that had dripped to the table. “Overlooks the beach.”

Emerie offered a weak smile. “I’m jealous.”

“Want to see it?” Mor asked bluntly, sighing ever so slightly. “I’m bored of this place. Too many drunk guys that think every ass needs to be touched.”

“What about Cass—”

“He won’t care if I’m missing. I was invited out of pity, anyway. I’m sure you know Nesta isn’t my biggest fan.”

Mor was scooting closer, indicating Emerie should get out of the booth. Fishing her phone from her clutch, Emerie sent a quick text to Nesta and Gwyn.

Heading out with Mor for a bit—gonna get some air and talk a bit. Meet you back at the house.

Mor slunk off to tell Rhys, who glanced over at Emerie before saying something that earned a vicious punch to the shoulder. Rhys only grinned, gripping his arm, as Mor made her way back to Emerie.

“All good?”

“All good,” Emerie agreed, still impossibly nervous. They said nothing as they made their way out, fingers brushing each time the crowd surged around them, forcing them closer before they could spring apart again. Mor seemed comfortable with the whole thing and Emerie was jealous. She wanted Mor’s easy confidence. 

“I heard you slept with Lucien’s dad,” Emerie blurted out the moment they were out beneath the starry summer sky.

Mor grinned. “Yeah? I did,” she said without embarrassment. “I didn’t know he was Lucien’s dad, in my defense. He was just…some hot guy I thought was interesting.”

“Is that your type, then?”

Mor’s eyes crinkled at the corners. “Do you not know?”

Emerie shook her head no, throat coated with sand. 

“I just figured…” Mor shook her head, her smile undimmed. “My type is tall, dark, and gorgeous. Lucien’s dad almost fits the bill…but I prefer women.”

“Oh,” Emerie said, unable to think of anything more clever to say. “I just figured…”

“I’m not opposed to men for a night, but I’d never date one. God, can you imagine?” she said with a laugh.

“No,” Emerie admitted with relief. “I saw Cassian and Azriel’s shared bathroom, I think I’ll pass.”

“I know, right? God, I used to clean it for them when they all shared a dorm room.”

“You’re better than me,” Emerie replied with a shudder. The thought of cleaning their shared bathroom made her want to vomit. She could only imagine how gross it must have looked. 

“Cassian got it together when he met Nesta. He knew she wasn’t going to tolerate pee all over the toilet.”

“He’s right,” Emerie agreed with a laugh. “Nesta is immaculate.”

“And you?”

Emerie’s stomach flipped over as Mor’s shoulder brushed hers. “I uh…probably not as much. I keep a lot of plants at my place so it’s…you know…crowded.”

“Plants? Anything else?” Mor asked, eyes burning like the stars overhead. 

“I have a cat,” Emerie told her, thinking of her little apartment back in Velaris. “Her name is Mist.”

“Like one of the thirteen,” Mor said knowingly, unaware of how Emerie’s knees shook.

“You like mythology?”

“Not really,” she admitted as they crossed the street toward the large resort just across the way. Palm trees swayed in the wind, breaking up the traffic nicely. “But Cass said you did, so…”

“Why would Cassian tell you that?” Emerie demanded without thinking. “That’s kind of weird.”

Mor’s cheeks flushed orange beneath the artificial lights overhead.

“I asked him what you liked,” she admitted. 

“Why?” Emerie, at least, could guess why. She wasn’t that obtuse, after all. Still, she wanted to hear the words leave Mor’s pretty lips, if only to put her mind at ease.

“You’re beautiful,” Mor admitted as Emerie rushed ahead to open the door for her. Mor thought she was beautiful? A breeze could have carried her away. “I just figured Cass blabbed.”

“Nope. He kept it a total secret,” she said, unable to help her grin. 

“Oh. Well…that…I just figured you knew and—”

“I have such a crush on you,” Emerie blurted out while Mor pressed the button for the elevator. “When I saw you tonight, and I realized I was wearing this shirt, I just…”

“Stop, I love it,” Mor lied, fingers skimmed the back of Emerie’s elbow. “You look so cute. Besides, I got to ask if you liked being tied up which made it totally worth it.”

“Is that why I’m here? To be your meatball sub?” Emerie joked, heart racing all the same.

“Hardly,” Mor replied with a laugh. “We can do whatever you want.”

“And if I wanted to kiss you?”

Mor sucked in a soft breath. “That would be nice.”

They were in an elevator—this wasn’t how Emerie imagined it. And right then, drinking in the sight of Mor who was nearly as tall as she was even in heels, Emerie thought he might die of want if she didn’t kiss Mor. Stepping closer, all Emerie could think about was how nice Mor smelled. Emerie just needed to know if Mor tasted half as good.

Sliding her fingers into Mor’s unbound hair, Emerie pressed her lips to Mor’s as Mor stepped back, hitting the mirrored wall with a soft, sweet sigh. Hell, she tasted sweeter than Emerie had imagined even as her lipstick smeared across Emerie’s mouth. She wanted to see it stained over her skin, too, proof that they’d been together. 

One chaste kiss became two, became a third, until Emerie was practically flush against Mor. She’d forgotten where they were until the doors dinged open and the sound of voices pulled apart. The pair looked behind them to find a couple staring right back, eyes wide.

Emerie wasn’t going to apologize and was grateful when Mor didn’t either. She merely burst into giggles before slipping her hand in Emerie’s and tugging her out. 

“Whoops,” Mor whispered, fishing her keycard out of her clutch. “Lost track of things in there.”

“Same,” Emerie agreed, heart thudding. “I uh…look. I really like you. And maybe I should go and just…call you? In the morning?”

“Or,” Mor suggested as she swung the door open wide, “you could stay with me tonight and let me buy you brunch in the morning? You can borrow one of my suits if you want and we could hang out by the pool?”

“I want to take you on a date,” Emerie said firmly, desperate to go inside.

“Okay,” Mor said, still standing in front of the open door. “So do I. Will you come inside, now?”

Emerie nodded, grateful to have gotten that out of the way. She’d sworn she wasn’t doing any more one night stands that ended in hurt feelings. That was especially important for her and Mor given they were going to be seeing so much of each other long after this ended.

Mor’s room was a suite, complete with a living room and a kitchen. The balcony doors were thrown open, allowing salty summer air to flood through the room. Taking her hand, Mor led Emerie down a short hallway to the room she’d obviously been sleeping in—the bed was still unmade. A little succulent sat on a nightstand and the room itself smelled like the candy sweet of Mor’s perfume. Emerie wanted to bury her face in the pillow and inhale deeply.

“You ruined my grand gesture,” Mor told her, closing the door quietly behind them. “Will you be my date to Cass’s wedding?”

The grin that spread across Emerie’s face threatened to split her in half. “Yeah. Of course I will.”

Mor exhaled. “Good. I’ll have the hottest date there.”

Emerie rolled her eyes, cheeks burning all the same. It would be her with the hottest date, but who needed to quibble, truly? Not when Mor was standing right in front of her, chin inclined with so much expectations. There was a bed right behind and if Emerie played her cards right, she’d know exactly how Mor tasted by the end of the night.

Indecision gripped her. Did she just kiss her? Touch her? Push her to the bed and strip her naked before committing Mor’s naked form to memory? 

“Get out of your own head,” Mor whispered, sliding her hand around Emerie’s neck. “I don’t bite. Unless you want me to?”

“Maybe,” Emerie admitted, the thought filling her with heat. 

This time, Mor took the lead. Slipping out of her heels, Mor had to lift up on her tiptoes in order to meet Emerie’s mouth and Emerie liked the sight of it. Or, maybe she merely liked the sight of Mor’s unabashed desire, a mirror for her own. It felt good to be wanted, especially by a woman Emerie had a crush on. 

She could admire her good fortune later. Right then, Mor was tugging her back, falling to the unmade bed behind them with a soft, dreamy sigh. She was so soft and smelled like almonds and cherry, her lips stick from the gloss over her lipstick. Emerie was drunk on the taste of her tongue in her mouth, obsessed with Mor’s soft skin beneath her fingertips. Blonde curls swirled around her head like an angel and when Mor opened her eyes to look, Emerie found her eyes so dark they looked as though they were all iris. Were it not for that familiar ring of gold, she might have been lost.

Mor reached up and brushed a lock of Emerie’s hair behind her ear. “You’re so pretty,” Mor sighed sweetly. 

“No, you,” Emerie replied like a petulant school child. Mor laughed and Emerie kissed her again, teeth clashing as they giggled. It took a moment for the silliness to fade back into undiluted desire. Emerie slid to the side of Mor’s body, one leg draped over her hip as she tried to decide what she ought to do.

Mor seemed to notice her indecision or perhaps knew that she was impossibly nervous. “Lay back,” she whispered with sultry eyes. Emerie did as she was told, fingers bunching the white sheets with more nerves. Mor straddled her waist before running a finger over Emerie’s exposed collarbone.

Mor pulled her leggings off, pausing at the shirt for a moment before sliding her fingers beneath the fabric to drag her knuckles over Emerie’s bare skin as she lifted it over her head. Emerie shivered, goosebumps trailing behind Mor’s touch, her desperation to touch and taste every inch of Mor reaching a fever pitch. She did feel a moment of embarrassment when  Mor looked down her body, hidden only by an unremarkable bra and a pair of nude panties. If she’d known…

Mor sighed, leaning to kiss Emerie again with more passion before. Emerie felt clumsy and almost embarrassed as she, too, unhooked Mor’s zipper and slid it down, but fair was fair, right? And she wanted to feel Mor’s breasts pressed against her chest, wanted to see if all of her was as smooth as she seemed. 

Mor was in a matching lace set and somehow Emerie imagined that was just how she always was. Every bra came with a matching pair of panties, every day was carefully planned. Mor was immaculate in a way Emerie could never hope to emulate, which only made her like Mor more. 

“What do you like?” Mor whispered, breath warm against Emerie’s face. “Do you like…?”

“Everything,” Emerie breathed. “All of it.”

“Everything?” Mor asked, amusement sparkling. With a touch, she had Emerie’s bra unhooked and when had she even gotten her hand back there? Mor cocked her head, golden hair spilling over her naked shoulder as she looked at Emerie. “Giving? Receiving?”

“Yeah,” Emerie began, rising up earnestly. “Let me—”

Mor pushed her gently to the bed, shaking her head back and forth. “Me first.”

“What do you like?”

“You,” Mor replied with a grin, unhooking her own bra casually before dropping it off the side of the bed. Emerie felt her brain short circuit, hands moving on their own accord to touch rosy nipples and soft skin. How was Mor real? Surely she was hallucinating and would wake up any moment in some dirty bar bathroom, still dressed in that terrible shirt while Mor continued to ignore her existence. 

Emerie got what she wanted, dream or not. Mor leaned down, pressing her breasts against Mor to kiss her again, and again, her tongue stroking Emerie’s with a feverish hunger that left her breathless and desperate. She could have died happy just kissing Mor. They were silk on silk, kissing like they had all the time in the world. Emerie wanted to savor it, to drag the moment out for an eternity.

Mor’s fingers slid down Emerie’s stomach, skimming over hip bones as she asked, “Can I?” “Yes,” Emerie panted, arching her hips just enough to offer full, unbridled permission. Mor removed her plain panties, leaving Emerie laid bare before Mor’s hungry brown eyes. Mor didn’t linger, dragging her lips over Emerie’s bare skin as she settled between Emerie’s parted thighs. Oh, god. 

Emerie gasped, tangling her fingers back in Mor’s hair, passion and need rising in her throat. Every little brush of Mors body against her own was a wildfire. Emerie couldn’t stop touching—Mor’s silky hair, her smooth back, the slope of her neck.  She needed to map out Mor’s body with her fingertips first, though she wanted to trace each soft curve with her tongue next.

Emerie gathered up Mor’s thick, blonde curls as Mor settled herself against the sheets, peering up for just a moment. Just to confirm, Emerie realized, that she still wanted this. Emerie exhaled a breath and tugged, silent permission to the unasked question.

I’ll die if you don’t, she wanted to say. 

“Tell me to stop,” Mor breathed, pushing Emerie’s legs further apart, “if I do something you don’t like.”

Emerie’s brain had stopped entirely. All she knew was Mor between her thighs, her finger slowly exploring the wet expanse of Emerie’s aching, tender flesh. Emerie had expected her to lower her mouth—or maybe she’d hoped, at any rate—but Mor was content merely to watch and touch, drawing forth Emerie’s undeniable arousal. Mor kissed the insides of Emerie’s legs, moving slowly upwards towards the thatch of trimmed curls just above her pussy. 

“You’re so pretty,” Mor whispered into the hair, kissing there, too. “I like this.”

Emerie sighed again, relaxing against the pillow. Excitement bloomed hot in her stomach, traveling past her navel like little frissons of electricity. Mor, too, took a steadying breath and Emerie wondered if it was possible the unshakable Mor was nervous, too. 

Emerie almost asked, but then Mor’s face was against Emerie, tongue licking and Emerie moaned, the only form of language left to her. Mor exhaled again, her warm breath fanning against Emerie’s overheated pussy. Emerie felt overstimulated already, keyed up and excited. Every fantasy she’d ever had of this exact scenario paled in comparison to the real thing. Every touch was soft and precise, the touch of someone who knew what she was doing and liked doing it. Mor moaned, fingers gripping Emerie’s thighs to push her even wider, until Emerie merely draped them over Mor’s shoulders. 

The sight was so erotic that Emerie could have come from that alone. Digging her heels against Mor’s shoulder blades, Emerie whispered soft encouragement.

“That’s perfect,” she hissed as Mor’s tongue lapped at her aching, needy clit. Emerie couldn’t stop staring, wished she had a camera so she could see everything Mor was doing with her mouth, too. Mor, too, seemed transfixed, eyes bouncing between Emerie’s face and what was happening between her legs. 

Mor’s eyes occasionally fluttered shut, the sight punctuated by the softest, appreciative moan. It looked as if Mor wanted to savor the taste of Emerie, wanted to drag things out as long as possible. Emerie wanted that, too, desperately counting in her head to stave off the building arousal pooling low against her spine. 

Mor’s finger rimmed around her opening, offering the lightest pressure without penetrating. Her tongue stayed firmly on her clit, slowly increasing the speed until Emerie was panting and tugging at Mor’s hair, needy and desperate. She was so close, was practically flying off that edge into nothing. 

“Oh God, Mor—” Emerie choked out her release, arching so hard her toes curled and white hot spots bloomed in her vision. Every muscle in her body was taut and she felt nothing, was nothing but the pleasure rolling through her.

Emerie sat up the very first moment she was able, reaching for Mor to put her in her lap, their legs tangled, bodies rocking together and Emerie kissed Mor hungrily. She could taste her own arousal on Mor’s mouth, her tongue chasing after it greedily. 

Emerie slid her hand between their bodies, delighted to feel Mor was practically dripping wet.

“You don’t have–”

“Please?” Was all Emerie could think to say. She wanted to reciprocate like she’d never wanted in her life. Mor kissed her again and again, each kiss sliding one to the other until Emerie was dizzy and needy again. Emerie forced herself to focus, repositioning them so it was Mor back against the pillows and Emerie straddling her body. 

Emerie could still feel the remnants of that orgasm throbbing through her, prompting her to rub against Mor even as she mimicked everything Mor had done. Feyer was clumsier, too needy to be half as sensual as Mor had been. Still, Mor whined when Emerie reached for a nipple, rolling it between her fingers until it was stiff and rosy red. The same color as Mor’s lipstick stained mouth. 

Emerie experimented, grazing her teeth just a little. Mor moaned, eyes rolling upwards in her skull as her body undulated against Emerie’s. It was enough to keep Emerie going, to suck and nip and lick until Mor was practically panting, her tanned skin flushed the prettiest shade of pink.

Every inch of Mor was a dream—smooth, lush curves were soft beneath Emerie’s wandering hands. She marveled as she slid lower and lower, suddenly eye level with Mor’s glistening, pink pussy. 

Fuck she was beautiful. 

Emerie stared a beat too long before she couldn’t stop herself from spreading Mor open wider, parting to truly look.

“Is this what you want?” Emerie whispered.

“Please,” came Mor’s trembling reply. That was the confidence Emerie needed to lower her mouth and take that first taste. 

It was nothing like she’d imagined and better than she’d ever expected. Her whole body lit up at the musky sweetness of Mor’s body and the way Mor’s thighs trembled around Emerie’s head. Emerie enthusiastically swiped again, licking only for herself in that first moment. Just to know, to become accustomed to the wet, slick, soft feel of Mor’s pussy and how it made her own body feel.

Her arousal sharpened when Mor dragged her long nails over Emerie’s scalp, holding her hair while watching with intensely dark eyes. Emerie focused, thinking of what Mor had done for her. She swirled her tongue over the trembling nub of flesh and was rewarded with a breathy, “Oh God, don’t stop.” As if Emerie could. She replicated what Mor had done with her finger, pushing just against the opening of her pussy and circling, her tongue steady and hot. Mor writhed against her face, coating her in the slick release building in her body. And when Mor came with a breathy cry, Emerie felt it reverberate in her chest. 

It was Mor who reached for her this time, dragging her up to lay on her side so they could press their bodies against the other and kiss. Emerie tangled her arms around Mors neck while Mor caressed her face, their combined release erotic in Emerie’s mouth. Nothing had ever tasted better and she found herself wanting Mor again just as soon as she caught her breath.

Mor leaned her arm over the edge of the bed, picking up Emerie’s ugly shirt. “Can I have this?” she asked, mascara smeared just beneath her eyes.

“Why?”

“It smells like you,” Mor said, pressing the fabric against her nose. “And I think it's funny.”

Propping her head up on her fist, Emerie smiled. “Is that all it takes? One bad shirt?”

“What can I say,” Mor replied, pressing a kiss to Emerie’s cheek. “I’m easy.”

Emerie only smiled.  

[lexalovesbooks]

Every time I come home my family is more and more obsessed with sports and in turn this just makes me want to reread all for the game more and more

[mariocki]

Donald Sutherland guest stars as the easy living Willard, a college friend of McGill - and a rare glimpse into his early life - in Man in a Suitcase: Day of Execution (1.3, ITC, 1967)

[neverendingford]

.

[oreoluvskento]

gojo being dangerously loud

a/n: i know this is supposed to be a nanami focused account but hear me out... whiny gojo. that's it.

cw: cunnilingus, riding, ummm gojo being drunk and loud and his baby girl moans, semi-public sex (they're in a bathroom), i am so horny and i just need him so bad

you love the sounds your boyfriend makes during sex. he's never been shameful about it either, always loud and proud about the way your pussy makes him feel. this time, however, you wish he'd shut up.

you two are currently in your friends bathroom during a drunk movie night. you were both pretty tipsy, gojo more drunk than you and you were having a great time. all of a sudden, he doubled over, making it obvious to everyone that there was something wrong and he needed a bathroom fast.

except, when you follow him in and he locks the door behind you, there is nothing wrong with him at all, besides the raging boner he was currently sporting. your eyes widened when you saw it, but the casamigos in your bloodstream was stopping you from thinking clearly and the next thing you knew, you were getting eaten out on your friends bathroom floor.

"'toru, fuck, i'm close!" you whisper, holding his head harder and he speeds up, his tongue flicking your clit constantly as his two middle fingers are going to work. when you cum, you cover your mouth with your hand as your back arches off the floor and gojo doesn't pull away. you have to manually drag him away from you and he immediately goes for your lips, making your mouth just as messy as his own.

as the two of you kiss, he sits up and pulls you against his body sitting against the bathtub. you make quick work of his pants and without wasting any time you lower yourself on him. the last thing you expected was for him to throw his head back and let out one of the sluttiest moans you had ever heard. "ahhh fuckkk!"

you quickly slap your hand against his mouth and pray to god that no one heard that. he lifts his head and looks at you with furrowed eyebrows and low eyes, whimpering quietly against your hand at your pussy pulsing around him. "satoru, you've got to be quiet, baby, okay?" you ask and he nods, his cheeks red.

you finally lift your hips and before you could even go back down, a deep groan comes from his throat and you stop again. he gets impatient and pulls you down himself, dropping his forehead against yours as he moves you faster.

"mmph feels too good, can't stop," he says breathlessly against your palm, and you have to drop your head on his shoulder at the speed he was going. he truly was trying his best, but as the two of you went on, his whines got louder and louder until they were hoarse moans.

"im close, im close, please, please, please!" he cries against your skin and you take over, pressing your lips against his in the process. he moans into the kiss, his body going weak when you trade the fast movement for slow, deeper movements.

"you like it, 'toru?" you ask, your lips moving against his. he nods quickly, tears beginning to form in his eyes at the sensitivity of his dick but you don't stop.

"baby please- haaa fuckkk!" he begs squeezing your hips and you shake your head.

"promise me you'll be quiet when you cum," you instruct and he nods furiously, just wanting to feel his orgasm. you take his word for it, partly because you were ready to cum too, but you cover his mouth for safe measures.

you go faster now, grinding your hips down on his, and almost as soon as you start, you feel him start to shake and thrust into you himself. "ah, ah ahhhh fuck, fuck, fuck, cummingggg!"

before you could say anything, he holds you down, his head buried in your neck as he moans in your ear and your orgasm hits as well, spurring him on. "ohh shitshitshit too much too much fuuuck!" he cries, holding your body against his as you ride your orgasm out. right when you finish, you hear a knock on the door and your friend's concerned voice.

"hey, is he okay in there, do you guys need help?" her voice rings out and your eyes widen.

"yeah, he's okay, just drank a bit too much!" you shout back and turn back to look at your boyfriend. "cough," you instruct and he does just that. you reach to the side and flush the toilet and pretend to pat his back. "that's okay, get it all out."

"okay, there's some water in the kitchen for him when he's done," she says and leaves. you let out a sigh of relief and drop your head on a slightly sobered up gojo's chest.

"my bad," he whispers and you roll your eyes as you stand up.

"shut up."

[cherryredcheol]

"lovie"

tldr: all the ways jeonghan uses your nickname a/n: but mom, i love him. (there is a makeout scene in this...)

pesters: but only in good fun

“lovie,” he coos at you, encouraged by the blush on your cheeks. he could tell by the look in your eyes, you were embarrassed but not upset. you hadn’t thought anything of it when he suggested you wear the green hoodie in your closet to visit him and the members in the practice room. 

“need to let everyone know we’re together?” he couldn’t help but poke fun at you as you walked into the room wearing a matching hoodie to his. you had no knowledge he had even worn the offending garment today. if you had, you wouldn’t be in yours, especially not in front of his members and their staff.  

“i’m pretty sure everyone already knows.” his teasing didn’t let up, even as he wrapped his arms around you, pleased to see you had fallen right into his trap. you faintly heard joshua scoff somewhere behind you, too focused on the man in front of you to really give him any attention, “you guys are gross.” 

whispers: when he wants to check in

“lovie,” his whisper pulls you from your thoughts. “i don’t think that pork will come back to life no matter how hard you stare at it. mingyu grilled it really well.” you rolled your eyes but turned to look at him nonetheless. he looked awfully handsome under the dim light of the bbq restaurant. he always looked handsome, you supposed. 

“are you okay?” he was still whispering. wanted to keep this moment as private as possible so you could speak freely. he knew dinner with his members could be a lot, especially after a long day at work. 

“you can tell me if you want to go. you know i’ll never pass up an opportunity to go home with you.” his eye dropped in a wink, and this time you smiled when you rolled your eyes. going home with him did kind of sound like a good idea…

breathes: in between kisses

“lovie,” it escapes him like a sigh, slipping out between you two in a heated moment. you were on his lap, completely blocking his view of the tv, and in the back of his mind he knows he wanted to see this one but he couldn’t bring himself to care. not with the way he is consumed with the feeling of your weight pressing on him, your warmth almost burning his skin even through layers of clothes. 

when you pull back and look at him, he swears he feels his heart skip a beat. face oily and bare from the skin care you had completed before joining him on the couch for movie night, he’s never thought you more beautiful. he can feel your lip balm on and around his lips, a reminder you’d been there.

“whatever you’re doing, it’s working lovie,” he praises. “you’re practically glowing.” if he thought you were radiant before, you beamed under his praise. the last thing he saw before his eyes closed to continue kissing you was your toothy grin. 

giggles: behind cupped hands

“lovie,” he was snickering when he pulled you into a secluded corner of seungchoel’s apartment. game night was in full swing and you had just started the third round of mafia. while the rest of the members were distracted by mingyu and soonyoung’s bickering, jeonghan whisked you away, his mischievous smirk on his face. 

“can you keep a secret?” he was talking in hushed tones, hiding his mouth behind his hands to avoid prying eyes. when you nodded in confirmation, he leaned impossibly closer, breath tickling your ear. 

“i’m the mafia.” it took everything in you to keep your face neutral. you didn’t want to blow him in after he spilled such a big secret. it warmed your heart that he trusted you enough to tell you his role in the game. “if you tell anyone, i’ll kill you next.” 

scrawls: on a post-it

“lovie,” the note brought heat to your cheeks. you really hoped your coworker at the desk across from yours didn’t notice. when had he even slipped this in? you packed your own lunch and he wasn’t even awake when you left for your shift this morning, still snuggled beneath your comforter when you pulled your shoes on and headed out the door. 

“i miss you. hope you’re having a good day!” his neat handwriting brought a smile to your face. this wasn’t the first time he had snuck a note into your lunchbox, but he didn’t do it often so this was really a treat. and on a friday, too! what a great way to end the week. 

“i can’t wait to spend the weekend with you.” you shared the sentiment. looking forward to a free weekend with no plans or schedules. free to rot in your bed for the next two days with your beloved. “love you!” 

[lustspren]

P.S.T EP. 13 | Vultures ft Karina, Giselle.

length: 16k words ✦

Karina, Giselle & Male Reader

genres: footjob, titjob, anal, anal creampie, thighjob, ass eating, pussy eating, facial, hard sex, blowjob, friends competition (?, kinda daddy kink (?

✦✧✦✧✦✧

✦✧✦✧✦✧

The nights you spent with Jimin still had their aftereffects on you. The morning after your date with ITZY you woke up with complete certainty that she was going to be by your side, but what you found was a completely empty side of the bed. It's not like it affected you emotionally, but it was a strange feeling.

The first thing you did when you woke up was pick up your phone and write to the ITZY girls. You told them that you had a lot of fun and that you appreciated the surprise, but that you were excited to actually catch up with them. You did not receive a response at that time. In Korea it was around 10 at night, so they were probably watching a movie or taking baths. Be that as it may, you sat up and rubbed your eyes, staring at the desk chair in front of you, mentally preparing yourself for the start of the day.

After gathering enough willpower, you reluctantly got out of bed and went straight to the bathroom. You took a quick shower, five minutes more than enough to freshen up. You got out of the shower and brushed your teeth. Once cleaned, you dressed without any rush: you put on a black and gold Fred Perry sweater that Ryujin had given you, some khaki shorts, and the only pair of shoes you hadn't worn until now: black strappy leather sandals. wide, fastened to the ankle by a buckle.

Being ready, you didn't bother putting on perfume. Was not necessary to. You just combed your hair so you didn't look like a bum and grabbed your things before leaving your room. You headed to Jimin's room, where she and the rest of the girls were sleeping. When you arrived at the corresponding floor, you found a pleasant surprise at the end of the hallway: Jihye was already approaching the door to open it, but stopped when she saw you walking towards her.

The smile that formed on her face was certainly something new for you, but it was priceless. She was so pretty that she dazzled you, and the tracksuit jacket rolled up made her look even more attractive. But it didn't end there: she also ran towards you with small steps to hug you around your waist. You hugged her, surrounding her head.

"Good morning! How did you sleep, honey?"

She looked up at you. You looked down, meeting that pair of pretty, round eyes.

“Good morning, boss,” you smiled back. "Oh, pretty good, actually. What about you?"

She looked at a point in nothingness as she thought about it.

"Not really good. I felt kind of weird, I don't know."

She let go of you and you let go of her, but you maintained the closeness between the two of you.

"Mmm, that sucks. I felt that way too a few days ago."

"And you fixed it?"

"I mean, yeah. I think it was just because I had a lot of thoughts flying around in my head."

Jihye nodded, perhaps realizing that this was the case for her as well.

"Well, I just hope it doesn't happen again tonight. I'm the last one who can afford to sleep badly," she sighed.

“I can keep you company if you want,” you laughed.

You had said it as a friendly joke, but Jihye tilted her head as if thinking about it.

"Would you do that?"

You frowned and leaned your ear closer to confirm if you had heard correctly.

"Huh?"

"Huh?" she repeated with a couple of quick blinks. "Uh… nothing, listen, it's best if you don't give the girls any details about last night. And definitely don't bring up the hook up thing."

You looked at her with half-lidded eyes, still turning over in your head what you thought you heard just a few seconds ago. Since she had already changed the subject, you had no choice but to let it go.

"Don't worry, everything stays between you and me," you nodded, trying to reassure her.

"Very well, thank you. Come on, let's take a look in the lion's den," she gestured toward the door.

You let her take the lead. Jihye opened the door and you both found the room dark. The only light that came in was filtered through the closed curtains, which was barely enough to see the girls. The four of them were curled up next to each other in bed, peacefully asleep like four little angels.

"Fuck, I wouldn't want to have to wake them up," Jihye whispered. "Look at them."

Taking advantage of your moment of distraction while watching the girls, Jihye pricked the back of your hand with her nails. Inevitably, you let out a grunt of complaint and stepped away with a stomp hard enough to make the girls shift on the bed.

You frowned at Jihye, rubbing the back of your hand. The girls in front of you opened their eyes to look at you, each one more upset than the other.

"Wasn't there a more subtle way to do that?" you asked in annoyance.

"Don't be whiny, it was just a little prick," Jihye replied. "Besides, it worked."

Jimin was the first to sit up, leaning on her elbows. She watched you rub your hand with a frown and then looked from her to Jihye.

"What have you done to him?" she asked.

"You wouldn't want her to have woken you up the traditional way, would you?"

Jimin sighed and shook her head, sitting up on the bed. Aeri followed her, but Minjeong and Ning remained lying down as they watched you.

"No, that's perfect. Thank you."

"Okay, now that you're awake..."

Jihye got up to turn on the light in the room, causing them all to squeal at the glare. You couldn't help but chuckle. Minjeong and Ning hid under the sheet for a few seconds before coming back into the light. Jihye didn't care in the slightest, she sat on the bottom edge of the bed to watch them. You walked over to the couch in front of the window and started looking at your phone.

"Do you have any particular plans for today?"

They looked at each other and shook their heads, then looked back at Jihye.

"Great, because I had some ideas for spending the day together, if that's okay."

They looked at each other again, but this time they nodded.

“Sure, sounds good,” nodded Jimin, who then looked at you, “Did she rip a piece of skin off your hand?”

You looked up from your phone to see her and Jihye.

"Almost."

“Crybaby,” she stuck her tongue out at you and looked at the girls. "Take your time getting ready, okay? We'll meet you in the lobby. Put on comfortable clothes."

"Don't tell me to take my time because then I'll go back to sleep," Minjeong said.

"You do that and you will stay alone in the hotel. Maximum one hour."

"But you just said..."

“I changed my mind,” Jihye stood up with an innocent smile and walked towards the door, but not before turning to look at you. "You come?"

"Sure."

You stood up and kissed all the girls on the forehead before leaving with Jihye. You two went to the hotel's coffee bar, sat down at one of the tables near the back and waited for the girls, who arrived surprisingly quickly. Everyone was already dressed and ready to start the day.

You had a quick and light breakfast, accompanied by lattes. After finishing eating, Jihye prepared to share with you the agenda that she had planned for the day: first you would go to the aquarium, then to the botanical gardens, go with you to buy souvenirs for the ITZY girls and, finally, go to a discreet bar where no one would recognize them, only if they were up for it.

"I'm excited to go to the botanical gardens," Jimin said with a little smile. "I saw some photos and it looks beautiful."

"The aquarium too!" Ning said, looking at Jimin. "I sent you some photos, did you look at them?" Jimin nodded excitedly.

"And I'll definitely need that drink if I'm going to spend the whole day with you," Aeri joked, as she drank the last of her coffee.

The general atmosphere was good, everyone was excited to go sightseeing. But unlike the others, Minjeong seemed confused. Soon she would bring some discomfort to the table.

"Why do we have to help him shop for ITZY?" She looked at Jihye. "I mean, I'm sure he'll need our help, but I don't know how that's our problem."

All her eyes were directed towards her, Jihye's in particular did not look at all happy with that comment. She leaned across the table towards her.

"Don't be ungrateful, Kim Minjeong. Hasn't he taken good care of you throughout this tour? I'm sure at this point he deserves a favor or two from you."

Jihye's tone was stern and threatening. Aeri couldn't help but laugh at Minjeong's puppy face as she was scolded.

"Noze's right, you're being a bitch, Minjeongie. I'm more than happy to help. Plus, it's the perfect opportunity for me to shop too."

Jimin also took Jihye's side. She looked at Minjeong with obvious annoyance on her face.

"You're going whether you like it or not, girl. He deserves it."

Ning also jumped to your defense.

"Yeah, be grateful!"

Minjeong sank into her seat, crossing her arms and frowning. You, meanwhile, felt like a child caught in the crossfire of the argument between divorcing parents. However, you appreciated the way everyone took that stance. You didn't think Minjeong said that with bad intentions. Deep down, you knew she was just as good a person as the other three, but she was without a doubt an expert at being a spoiled brat.

When you were all ready you got up from the table and got ready to leave. Jihye still had the man who brought them from the bar the night before, who was in charge of taking them to the Atlanta Botanical Gardens. Before getting out of the car, Jihye recommended that everyone put on masks and caps to hide their identity. In your case it was not necessary, but you agreed so that they would not feel uncomfortable.

As soon as you entered the gardens, Jimin linked her arm with yours and pressed herself against you.

"You’re coming with me, champ. We have a date pending."

This is how the small groups were formed. Minjeong made sure to leave with Ning for fear of being left alone with Jihye, who was paired up with Aeri. At first the six of you walked together, but soon you went your separate ways as you all wanted to see different things.

You had an amazing time with Jimin. For most of the walk all you did was take pictures and laugh like a couple of nuts. You didn't talk about anything interesting or momentous at all, you just made very stupid and childish jokes. Anyone who saw you saw a couple of immature, but happy teenagers.

After about two hours, you all met again at the entrance to the gardens. You shared the things you had seen and the photos you had taken, and set off towards the aquarium. As soon as you arrived, Ning was the one who pulled you next to her.

"Hello there, baby. You have some time for me, don't you?" she asked, taking your hand.

Your fingers intertwined with hers. She snuggled against your arm as you walked inside. You rubbed the back of her hand with your thumb.

"I always have time for you, sweetheart."

You took off your cap for a second just to kiss her cheek. Then you went into the aquarium, or rather, you got lost, because it was so huge and with so many places to go that you ended up alone. You looked at all kinds of marine animals and attractions; Ning looked adorable every time you passed by a new place and had the chance to see some of her favorite animals. You took photographs of her in each spot, but your favorites were the ones you took of her with a beluga, the sea otters, and at the sea lion show.

You were having the most pleasant and romantic time with her. However, when you visited the sea predators attraction, you saw fit to bring up the topic of the previous night. The few people in the place and the dim lighting created an intimate atmosphere that seemed perfect for talking.

"Hey, uh... I'm sorry about what you found when you came into the room last night," you said, as you watched a hammerhead shark swim past a school of fish.

She turned to look at you.

"Huh? Don't worry about it, darling. I enjoyed it too," she nodded.

"I know you did, but I still feel sorry," you sighed.

"I already said it's okay, silly. Stop apologizing," she rubbed your arm up and down, "I just hope that one day you become as committed to us as you are to them, you guys have a really cool relationship."

Before you could respond, your phone vibrated in your pocket with several notifications. You took it out to see them. There were multiple messages from Chaery. She was asking you if you had enjoyed her performance last night. You responded quickly, but soon found yourself involved in an exchange of sweet messages. Once you were done, you put the phone away and looked at Ning embarrassedly.

"Fuck, I'm sorry, I got distracted."

Ning took a moment to respond. She looked at you and then at the sharks through the glass, balancing on her ankles. Finally, she looked down at the ground.

“Honey…” she murmured, then looked up like you did when you put the phone away. "What's the history between you and Chaeryeong? Are you dating?"

Your heart skipped a beat. You remained silent as you pursed your lips. You knew that question would come sooner or later, but you never prepared for it. You were afraid of what you might say, but you were more afraid of how she was going to react. You took a deep breath.

“It’s… complicated,” you breathed out. "We act like a couple, but you know... our respective jobs and the current situation prevent us from using terms like 'boyfriend' or 'girlfriend'. But I'm obviously more attached to her than the rest of the girls."

She nodded slowly, avoiding your gaze. She looked down again and hesitated before asking the next question.

"Do you… do you think you have any time for me in your life when we get back?"

Ning always found a way to melt your heart, this was no exception. You wanted to take off her mask and kiss her, but since that would cause discomfort to the people around you, you limited yourself to surrounding her with your arms and cuddling her against your chest.

"I'll do my best to make it work, darling. We'll find a way together, I'm positive about it," you assured in her ear.

You snuggled her tightly in your arms. She hugged you back. Then you both stood in silence as you watched the school of fish swim peacefully around one of the deadliest predators in the ocean. Of course, they, small and defenseless, swam without any worries, oblivious to the danger that threatened them. You ignored the fact that you were the school of fish.

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

After visiting the aquarium, the next goal was to find a good place to have lunch before shopping. You didn't have to go too far, as just a few blocks away there was a nice pizzeria that looked amazing. You walked in and Jihye stayed at the register to order while you settled at a table near the wall. Ning and Jimin sat on either side of you, while Minjeong and Aeri were on the other side of the table, with the seat reserved for Jihye.

"Alright, if we're going to do this we have to do it right," Jimin said next to you, "What kind of things do you think the ITZY girls would like?"

Not even three months in advance could have prepared you for that question. You had been thinking about it for weeks and never came to a conclusion, despite knowing each of them well. But that's how giving gifts was, it didn't matter if it was to your best friend, what to give them was always a stressful task.

"Uh... I mean..." you brought your hand to the back of your neck.

"He has no idea," Minjeong said, looking at her phone.

They all looked at you. You shrugged.

"Honey, you'll have to do better than just getting them generic clothes," Aeri said.

Ning nodded and turned to look at you.

"It has to be something unique, something meaningful that they can't get at home."

A very, very bad joke came to your mind. But you kept it to yourself so you wouldn't look like an idiot in front of Aeri. At that moment Jihye arrived with the bill in hand and sat next to Ning.

"Well, you could give them tour merchandise. You wouldn't even have to pay for it," she said.

You shook your head.

"Definitely not."

"Look, I know Yeji unnie very well. I can help you with her," Jimin said.

"I'll take Yuna," Minjeong said.

You couldn't help but let out a low laugh.

"Between spoiled brats you understand each other very well, that makes sense."

Minjeong just gave you the middle finger.

"Mmm, I'll help you with Chaery," Ning said from beside you.

You saw it more than perfect. But you were screwed since Lia and Ryujin were still missing. Luckily you had a Japanese guardian angel in front of you.

"Who's left, Julia and Ryujinie, right?" Aeri asked.

“Aha,” you nodded.

"Leave them to me."

"Fuck, thank you all," you sighed, "I'm really bad at this stuff."

"Yeah, it shows," Minjeong said.

You didn't have a witty response to that, she was just right. You had no choice but to stay silent.

"Don't be grateful," Jimin said, "It's nothing you wouldn't do for us."

She nudged you with her shoulder to encourage you, you just smiled weakly, staring into a salt shaker.

The two large pizzas arrived within minutes. Your stomachs had been growling for half an hour, so the slices disappeared in the blink of an eye. After finishing the meal, they took a short break to rest and headed towards their next destination. By then, it was already 4 in the afternoon.

Buying gifts was the most exhausting, stressful and tedious task of the entire day. You were grateful that you had five more heads with which to share the anguish, because if it had been up to you alone, you would have lost your mind with just the first gift. It didn't take long for Jimin to find something for Yeji, as did Ning with Chaery. Minjeong, despite seeming indifferent and rather annoyed at the idea of helping you, took a lot of time and effort to find something that she knew Yuna would love. You wanted to tease her, but you were afraid that if you made her angry, she would take a taxi and go back to the hotel. Yeji's gift was a pocket edition of Pride and Prejudice. Yuna's was Giorgio Armani's Sì perfume. And Chaery's was a beautiful handmade bracelet made with precious stones, mainly amethysts and rubies.

You, Aeri and Jihye dedicated yourself to finding things for Lia and Ryujin. It was the most complicated of all, but Aeri took the lead at all times and moved from here to there next to you, checking out clothing, accessories, and music stores. Finally, after hours of searching, they found the two perfect gifts: a vintage dress for Lia and a vinyl record of her favorite band for Ryujin. Aeri assured you that they would love them and damn, she was honestly completely right.

After having paid everything you met outside the shopping center.

"Hey, you're all up for the bar, aren't you?" Jihye asked.

"Fuck, of course I do. Let's go," Aeri said. The poor thing had grown gray thanks to her stress.

The driver took you to the bar that Jihye had previously mentioned, which turned out to be, no less, the same bar that you and her had gone to the night before. This time the same bartender from yesterday was not there. In her place was a young woman with tattoos and pink hair. The six of you settled at the bar quickly, ordering beers and cocktails. Jihye sat on your left and Ning sat on your right.

The music played at a moderate volume and the dim lighting created a cozy atmosphere. You laughed, talked, and enjoyed each other's company. It was the perfect way to end a long and intense day. Maybe the accumulated stress took too much of a toll on you, because the drinks started flowing and you all got drunk too quickly.

The hours flew by, and when you least expected it, it was already close to midnight. By then, you and the girls were already dumber than normal. It didn't affect you in a negative way, you were just more sleepy and immersed in your thoughts. Ning was much more affectionate and clingy towards you. Jimin, Aeri and Jihye sounded like a group of chatterboxes, talking non-stop and laughing out loud. Minjeong, for her part, just drank more and more, in complete silence.

"By the way, who will be next to have services from him?" Jimin asked.

You sighed, knowing the argument that was coming. You mentally prepared yourself. The entire debate was going to be solely between Jimin and Aeri, since Ning, being the lady that she was, stayed away from arguing about things like that. Jihye remained attentive, watching the development of the situation with interest, ready to intervene if necessary. And you were sure Minjeong didn't even know what was going on, absorbed in her own world, staring into her drink.

"I mean, I'm the leader," Jimin continued, "It would be fair if I had another round with him."

"Huh? What the fuck are you talking about girl?" Aeri jumped in, mixing Korean with English, "Do you know how long I have without fulfilling my needs? Hell nah, there's no way."

Sharp pangs drilled into your head. You rested your forehead on your hand, staring at the bar as you took a deep breath. Ning next to you gave you comforting kisses on your temple, oblivious to what was happening a few seats further to the left.

"And what about my turn?" Jihye asked, "When is it my turn?"

The discussion ended suddenly. All eyes, like a magnet, were directed towards her, including Minjeong's, who was observing her with a mixture of curiosity and surprise. A few long seconds of silence took over the place, while Jihye ignored the reason why everyone was looking at her in unison.

"What?" she asked.

"Hey but…" Minjeong murmured, "I was sure you'd already taken your turn on the night the three of us spent together."

"Kim Minjeong!" you said, "Oh my god..." you crossed your arms over the bar and hid your face in them.

Jihye didn't seem much less embarrassed than you. Her cheeks turned red and she couldn't say a word. It was evident that it had been a mistake to get into the argument, but the alcohol had undoubtedly prevented her from thinking about the consequences of her words. An awkward silence took over the air as she struggled to find the right words to break the tension.

"What happened that night?" Ning asked immediately.

Great, the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Yeah, what is Minjeongie talking about?" Jimin said.

Minjeongie, for her part, didn't seem aware of having asked an awkward question. In her mind, surely, it was a very normal and obvious question. She didn't notice the blush that stained Jihye's cheeks, who let out some silly babbling before formulating a response.

"I definitely need more alcohol to tell you that story, I'm sorry," she said.

“The three of us…” Minjeong started.

"Shhh!" Jihye shut her up immediately, "Shut your big mouth, Kim Minjeong, or I'll leave you without breakfast for the rest of the tour!"

"But why can't she say anything!" Aeri protested.

"Because it's something private and I decide so, Uchinaga."

Aeri rolled her eyes.

"Ugh, fine."

The night came to an end with unexpected suddenness. You, sincerely, were grateful, because the headache was tormenting you and you urgently needed to take a pill. Jihye called the driver one last time and, when he arrived, you all got into the car in an ostentatious manner, like a bunch of drunk clowns. You headed to the hotel.

The journey to the hotel seemed eternal, every minute became torture while the headache blurred your vision. Finally, the vehicle stopped in front of the majestic building. You went down on wobbly legs, eager to get to your rooms and rest. Neither was in a position to take care of the other, so the girls had to fend for themselves when exiting the elevator.

Once all the girls were out of the elevator you were left alone with Jihye, once again. Only then you did realize how drunk she really was.

Upon reaching your floor, she leaned against the open elevator doors to look you up and down. Her face reddened by alcohol and her big, somewhat glassy eyes formed a perhaps too sexy expression. An aura of sensuality surrounded her, making her beauty intensify even more.

"Would you like to keep me company, pretty boy?" she asked, "I'd rather not sleep alone tonight."

You stood there stunned, still leaning against the back wall of the elevator. You looked her up and down, focusing mostly on her pale, sexy bare legs. It was too tempting, the softness of her skin seemed to call to you, but you knew it was a barrier you shouldn't cross like that. A moral commitment prevented you from succumbing to temptation. It wasn't correct.

"Sorry, boss. I have to decline your offer this time, you're drunk," you said.

To your surprise, she took a stride towards you and grabbed you by the collar of your sweater to pull you towards her. Your faces and your bodies were perhaps too close to each other. That distance allowed you to smell her aroma, a mix between alcohol and hazelnut. You looked at her lips, full and slightly parted, and then at her eyes fixed on you.

"You know? There's honesty behind it... I would have made the same proposal to you sober," she murmured just inches from your lips, "But great, you still pass my tests."

She let go of you with a little push and turned around, turning right to head straight to her room. You almost stayed inside the elevator, you had to put your hand between the doors to make them open again and be able to get out. You watched her walk down the hallway for a few seconds, mesmerized by how attractive she was, before heading to your room.

Normally you would have taken a hot bath and performed a much more meticulous ritual before going to sleep. But at that point, the headache was unbearable. You just took off your sandals and shorts, and then looked in a small toiletry bag inside your suitcase for some pain pills. After swallowing one with a glass of cold water, you also took off your sweater, turned off the lights, turned on the air conditioning and got into the cozy bed. The only thing you could think about before falling asleep was the stupid, unstoppable and uncontrollable desire you had to kiss Noh Jihye.

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

The next day was, finally, the day of the concert.

There really wasn't much time to interact with the girls. Jihye had sent you to the venue first to help with the sound arrangements. In fact, she had you working with the sound engineer all day, even during the concert, something you enjoyed as a little kid being able to be a part of something that big.

At the end of the concert, Jihye tells you and the girls that they would be flying to Washington DC that same night. Everyone complains, arguing that they are exhausted, but there is no other option, since the flight is already scheduled and the agenda cannot be modified.

The really stressful and exhausting part of the day came when you were heading to the airport. In the van, you received a message from someone you until now considered missing: Kim Sunwoo, your former coworker. Yesterday's headache came back instantly as you read the messages.

You had a small moment of panic. Your heart began to pound and your breathing became rapid and unsteady, and you did your best to hide your emotional state from the girls. Despite the anxiety attack, you took the time to thank those two.

As was proper, you immediately went with the news to Jihye, who didn't seem as worried as you were.

"Well... this is certainly a problem," she nodded, "But there's no use worrying about it right now, honey, let's discuss this on the plane."

Jihye took advantage of the fact that the girls weren't looking to give you a quick, light caress on your chin with her fingers. She then told you to rest a little while you arrived. You looked at her for a few seconds, but finally gave in and tried to relax in your seat.

The bustle of the airport was a distant hum in your ears. The girls began their usual round of complaints about how sore they were and how terrible it was to have to travel immediately after a show. Aeri made a joke at your expense, but you weren't on that existential plane. Your head was somewhere else, still on Sunwoo's messages. Seeing that you didn't react, Jimin immediately noticed that something was wrong with you.

"Hey, are you okay?" she asked, taking your wrist gently. 

You didn't want to worry her or the rest of the girls. You had no choice but to lie.

"Hm? Oh, nothing, I'm just tired and I zoomed out," you said with a weak reassuring smile.

You could see in Jimin's eyes that she knew you were lying. She knew you better than the rest of the girls. It was clear that she understood your behavior patterns, and one of them was not ‘zooming out’  when you were tired. However, not wanting to pressure you about it, she just let it go.

On the way to check-in, all the emotions attacked you like a pack of hungry wolves. A new anxiety attack left you breathless, and your mind became a battlefield of thoughts and possibilities. Panic took over you, and for a moment you seriously considered buying a ticket home. It was the most sensible thing to do, the most responsible thing to do, or so you thought. A vulture was hovering over you, and you didn't want to put the four girls you cared about at risk just because of you.

You were after all of them. Taking advantage of the girls' distraction, you slipped away and approached one of the receptionists, who was behind a counter. Just when you were about to ask for a ticket to Seoul, someone grabbed your forearm with all their might. You turned around, startled, and met Jihye's furious gaze.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!" she asked.

"Jihye, I can't be responsible for these girls getting into trouble because of me," you sputtered, breathing heavily, "I wouldn't forgive myself."

Jihye let go of your forearm and grabbed your hand a little too tightly.

"Honey, I respect that and appreciate it, but that would be a fucking stupid move," she took a step forward and spoke very close to you, "You are listed as part of the staff, you have an official role. If this reporter is already digging in this whole situation, the only thing you would achieve by mysteriously flying back in the middle of the tour is to raise more suspicions."

It was impossible to argue with that logic. Jihye was absolutely right. However you prepared to blurt out an stupid clumsy argument back, but before you could, she wrapped you in a warm, comforting hug. In that instant, all the emotions hammering in your head stopped.

"Calm down, please..." she said against your chest, "We're a team now. We'll find a way out of this, okay? But just don't make a stupid decision."

"I... you're right, I'm sorry."

She broke the hug and grabbed you by the forearms. Then, she did something that took you completely by surprise. She stood on tiptoe and placed a soft kiss on your cheek. An unexpected stupid tingle ran through your stomach, and your cheeks lit up with a blush you couldn't control.

"Besides, you can't leave without keeping your promise first, remember?" she raised an eyebrow with a little smile.

You couldn't help but laugh, trying to lower the color in your cheeks with a discreet flutter of your hands.

"I know, I know. I'm not going to break my promise, boss. And hey, thanks, really."

You took a deep breath, maybe your first in fifteen minutes. The surge of adrenaline began to dissipate, and your mind slowly became clearer. Finally, you could think with a cool head. You recognized, with a mixture of shame and relief, that you were about to do something very stupid.

"You'll thank me later," she winked at you, "But we have to get going, we're late for boarding."

She took your hand and led you to the line. You went straight to the jet, which when you arrived the girls were already inside, settled and ready for takeoff. Of course the first one worried about you was Jimin.

"What took you so long?" she asked.

"I had some cramps and had to go to the bathroom urgently," Jihye said. "He accompanied me so I wouldn't be alone."

Jimin nodded understandingly, too slowly to make you and Jihye believe that she had been satisfied with that answer.

"Sure," she simply said.

"Well, he and I have some logistical issues to discuss about DC," Jihye said as you walked through the cabin, "There were problems with some contractors who helped with the stage set up, sooooo it's best you leave us alone!"

Ning was already fast asleep, with her head resting on the plane window. Minjeong and Aeri were lost in their own worlds, with headphones in their ears and staring blankly at their screens. You weren't sure if they had really heard Jihye's words. Jimin, on the other hand, was visibly uneasy in her seat. She watched you suspiciously as you walked, with Jihye, towards the rear cabin.

Upon entering, Jihye settled into one of the seats on the left that faced you, in front of a table with rounded corners and chrome edges that made the fine wood stand out. You closed the cabin hatch behind you with a silent click and went to sit on a double seat on the right side, a small countertop to your right with a smooth surface.

“Alright, let me see,” Jihye said, asking for your phone to see the messages.

You took your phone out of your pocket and opened the chat with Sunwoo. Then, you handed it to Jihye, who took her time to read each message carefully. Finally, she returned it to you with a serious expression on her face.

"It has to be the bastard who took the photo of you and Ning, or at least someone who works for him," she said, taking her laptop out of her backpack to open it on the table.

You nodded, thoughtful. You placed the phone in your lap and clasped your hands under your chin, elbows resting on your thighs. Jihye began typing furiously, sending one email after another. You sighed hopefully, thinking that nothing bad could come from a woman so focused on her mission. You were in good hands, at least.

"What will we do?" you asked, feeling like you were asking Spider-Man for reassuring words.

Jihye didn't take her eyes off the screen, she just continued typing.

"The first thing to do is find out how much this guy knows," she said. "You know, what his intentions are and what the hell he wants. That way we can know if we should act by hook or by crook."

"You won't dissolve him in a pool of acid, will you?"

She looked away from the screen and looked at you like you were born stupid.

"What? Of course not, dumbass," she looked back at the laptop. "I mean we can create a smokescreen about it, or use our influence."

You sighed.

"Anything to keep the girls safe, to be honest."

At that precise moment, the cabin hatch burst open, breaking into the atmosphere of concentration. Looking up, both you and Jihye were met with Jimin's glare as she crossed her arms and took a firm stance as she entered.

"What do we have to be safe from, Noh Jihye?" she demanded to know, closing the hatch behind her, "Is this why you and him were so late?"

“Jimin…” you said.

"Is that why you were so strange when we arrived at the airport?" she interrupted you, perhaps raising her voice a little too much.

"Jiminie, you have to calm down, we..." Jihye started to say.

"I'm the damn leader of the group! If something is happening I fucking deserve to know about it!"

You and Jihye looked at each other for a moment.

"You're right, we're sorry," Jihye agreed, "But the situation isn't mine, I'm not the one to explain it."

Their gazes landed on you in an instant. You sat up in your seat, straightening your posture, and looked at Jimin with a bit of embarrassment. You took a short breath, gathering the courage to tell her everything. As you told your story, Jimin's face softened, going from initial fury to slight sadness. When you finished, she stood in front of you and wrapped you in a warm, comforting hug. Your face pressed against her abdomen, feeling the same warmth and security as in Jihye's embrace a few hours before.

"You... aren't mad at me?" you ventured.

Jimin grabbed your shoulders and pulled you away from her to look into your eyes.

"Mad? How can I be? Dude, I'm just worried about you."

She sat next to you and hugged you with both arms, her cheek resting on your shoulder.

"But don't hide anything from me again unless you want a real fight."

"We didn't want to worry you," Jihye said. "I'm sure you have more important things to think about."

"Nonsense," Jimin snapped. "This directly affects us all, it is my duty."

"As you wish, then," Jihye relented. "But it's time to make a plan."

"I promise to make sure the girls won't say anything that raises suspicion, not even around the staff."

"Don't you think that will make them suspicious?" you asked.

"They will believe it is to prevent something from happening. They will not know that something has already happened."

"Very well then," you nodded.

"I will talk to my connections at JYP so that they are aware of the situation and are prepared to handle it," Jihye said, finally closing the laptop. "I will also question the staff as discreetly as possible to see if anyone knows your true role."

"What if someone knows?"

"I'll make them keep their big mouths shut," she said as if it were obvious. "As I was saying, I will also contact a private detective to investigate this guy based on the number you got from him that night."

Jimin lifted her head from your shoulder and frowned.

"Night? What night?"

You sighed. Another thing that she didn't know and that you should directly explain to her. You took the trouble and patience to explain her story to her in great detail. As you did so you realized how much you really hated this guy and how much he deserved a beating from you. Jimin by that point she was just as upset as you.

"What a son of a bitch, god," she grumbled.

"Yeah, that's how sick some people are," Jihye said.

"Anyway. I'll let the ITZY girls know about it so they're aware," you said. "I will also try to contact the spa to see if they can provide me with security camera footage."

Jihye raised her eyebrows.

"Can they give you that?" she asked. "That would be a great help."

"Normally they don't give camera footage to anyone, but this is an exceptional occasion. They will understand."

"I will send you an email address, you can send the footage there if you receive it."

"For the detective?"

She looked at you again as if you were stupid from birth.

"Well, of course, what are you going to do with a 24-hour camera shoot?"

You thought about it for a moment, realizing that she was right. You relented with a shrug.

"Shouldn't you also contact your previous clients?" Jimin said.

"Yeah, right," you nodded. "The problem is that there aren't a few of them, damn it," you sighed.

"You should only inform the most famous one," Jihye said. "I don't even have to tell you who."

You nodded and crossed your arms. Your mind immediately went to Seulgi. You hadn't spoken to her for a few months, and you definitely didn't like the fact that you were resuming relations over that matter.

"Anyway," she continued, "Try to relax, it won't be too long until we get to D.C."

"Can I stay here with you?" Jimin asked.

"Sure," Jihye nodded. "It's not like I can get you out anyway. It's not my private cabin as much as I would love to."

Jimin kicked off her shoes in one swift movement and let them fall to the floor with a soft thud. Then, she raised her legs over yours and snuggled against your body. You put your arm around her. You both tried to close your eyes and relax, leaving Jihye engrossed in reading a book.

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

Upon landing in Washington D.C all plans were put into motion, everything happening on the way to the Conrad, the next hotel where you would stay.

You contacted Seulgi with an admittedly uncomfortable call, but it fulfilled your objective. She hadn't asked many questions about it, as expected she asked you what the hell you were up to, but you were honest with her and explained it the best you could. She understood it, or at least she pretended to. In the end she told you that she would spread the word among the girls to be careful.

By the time you arrived at the hotel all your energy was drained. You had been able to sleep a little with Jimin, but it was one of those naps that only exhausted you more, as strange as it seemed.

"Don't even think about leaving the hotel," Jihye said when you were all gathered in the lobby. "The concert is tomorrow and I need you all to rest. So you are prohibited from going out."

"Yes, please behave," Jimin said from beside her. She looked at all the girls as if making them remember what she had talked to them about.

After checking in, everyone quickly dispersed to their respective rooms. Once again, your floor matched Jihye's. You met in the hallway, walking side by side in search of your doors. You stopped in front of yours.

"Honey, get some sleep, please," she said standing in front of you. "This is not the first time something like this has happened in the industry, there are solutions."

"I know..." you sighed. "It's just that, damn, I really care about these girls. Just thinking that they're at risk because of me makes me feel terrible."

Jihye placed her suitcase next to her and stepped forward to cup your face in her hands. Her soft touch made you melt between her fingers.

"For the love of God, stop saying this is your fault," she said. "It's not your fault that a scumbag sneaked in where he shouldn't have."

You tried to protest, but she tightened her grip on your face to keep you quiet.

"We'll get through it," she whispered, "I promise."

You were silent as you looked at her, once again, at her pretty lips. And you made a great effort to contain yourself, once again. She finally let go of you, gave you one last look and grabbed her suitcase to leave about 5 doors later. You sighed deeply and walked into your room.

Opening the door, you were greeted by a short, narrow wooden hallway that led to the main room. The floor was covered with a soft gray carpet and the walls were a pristine shade of white. To your left, a king size bed, too big for you, but you weren't going to refuse. On the right, a small nightstand and, in the corner, a curved sofa with a lamp behind it and a small round table in front. On the opposite side of the room, after the bathroom door, a long low counter that housed a television and a large mirror. The room was completed with a larger circular table with a single chair and a big window that overlooked the street.

After unpacking and setting up some of your things, you closed the window curtains to turn on the air conditioning. The heat of the day was stifling and a good power nap was what you craved most. You took off your shoes and sat on the right edge of the bed, letting out a contented sigh. At that moment, your phone vibrated. A message from Jimin.

With a smile on your lips, you replied to Jimin's message. Then, you tossed the phone to the side of the bed and got up to turn off the light. The room was plunged into darkness, only illuminated by the faint glow of the city filtering through the windows. You went back to bed and got under the blanket, feeling the warmth and comfort of the mattress. Closing your eyes, you let fatigue overcome you and within a few minutes you fell into a deep sleep.

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

You woke up around 9 pm. Much more than you had planned, but damn it was worth it. You felt like a new and renewed man; of course, ignoring the fact that you were facing one of the most stressful situations you have ever experienced in your entire life.

When you got out of bed, the first thing you did was stick to your promise and you wrote to Jimin again, letting her know that you had already woken up and asking what the plan was. Waiting for her response, you went directly to the bathroom and got into the shower.

Barely five minutes had passed since you had gotten under the shower when the knocking on the door started. You had no doubt who they were. They, the girls, were not going to give up so easily. You wouldn't give them the pleasure of interrupting you, but they couldn't wait for you to finish either. The blows intensified, and they pierced your ears very quickly.

Reluctantly you turned off the water and got out of the shower. You dried yourself quickly and wrapped the towel around your body to go open them. You looked through the fisheye, and after confirming that it was them, you opened the door.

Both girls were wearing simple outfits, similar to what they would wear to sleep. Jimin was wearing a white crop top—which ironically said 'Send Nudes'— that exposed her midriff and red sports shorts. Aeri, for her part, was wearing a black sweater and pink velvet sweatpants. They both wore Crocs. Their faces lit up when they looked at you, and above all, when they looked at you half naked. What you noticed was that they were somewhat blushing, which immediately led you to think that they must have been drinking a little.

"Oh, we're at a good time it seems," Jimin said. She and Aeri let out a giggle.

Without even inviting them, they snuck under your arm and invaded your room. As Aeri passed by, she grabbed the knot of your towel and pulled it hard, taking it off you in one motion. You hurried to close the door.

"That's better," she said, walking past you.

You followed them. When you crossed the hallway you saw Jimin already settled in your bed, lying on her side and leaning on her elbow. Aeri went to sit on the chair next to the table.

"May I know what's going on and why I'm naked?" you asked, "I didn't think this would be the plan."

"Gigi and I are back on the menu, cutie," Jimin said between tipsy giggles, "You could use some stress relief."

"Oh, and we have a debate that you could be the perfect judge of," Aeri added.

You sighed, picked up your towel from the floor and put it back on. Then you went to your suitcase.

"And what could that debate be?" you asked, putting on underwear and some sports shorts.

"Which is better?" They both said in unison, like a previously rehearsed routine.

"Tits?" Jimin said.

"Or ass," Aeri said.

"Well, this is going to be a long night..." you muttered to yourself, going to sit on the couch in the corner. "And how did that mystery arise, may I know?"

The two of them looked at each other, neither could find an answer.

"I figured it," you nodded.

"But answer!" Jimin demanded, “You have to have a preference, right?”

"Well I don't have it, Rina," you leaned back on the couch and crossed your arms, "I'll need you to present your cases to me."

Jimin giggled and looked at Aeri.

"I knew he would say that," she said.

"But before you start mouthing profanities," you reached over to grab your phone from the nightstand. "I'll order food. I haven't eaten all day and you could use some time to formulate your answers."

They nodded and began to write in the notes app on their phones. You focused on ordering the food: two chicken sandwiches, a large portion of fries, and a can of white monster—for some reason, it was one of the drink options. When your order arrived, you put on a t-shirt and went to pick it up at the door. Upon returning, you settled back on the couch and placed the bag on the small round table in front of you. The aroma of fried food made your stomach growl.

"Okay," you said, taking out everything in the bag and then putting it down. "Present your cases. I don't care who goes first."

You opened the wrapper of one of your sandwiches and without hesitation you took a big bite. You couldn't help but moan at how delicious it was. At that moment Aeri got up from the chair and stood a meter away from you. You gave her a few glances, but decided that only your ears would be paying attention to them, since your eyes were quite busy with her food.

"Obviously, I think ass is better than tits," she began. "A lot of our choreographies are focused on making our butts shine, in fact," she let out a giggle. "Also, as you well know, twerking has become a crucial part of pop culture. Is there anything similar with boobs? I don't think so."

You couldn't help but let out a hint of laughter while your mouth was full of fries, at the surreal way in which she spoke so seriously and with such conviction about something so banal.

"Stop, stop," you interrupted her before she moved onto her next point. "Since you're so confident with twerk, why don't you show off your skills to me and Jiminie?"

She smiled excitedly, and turned around to begin. You quickly swallowed the bite of the sandwich so you could speak.

"Oh, before you start," you interrupted her again. "I cannot formulate a good verdict without your points of defense being exposed to view. Clothes off."

Aeri giggled and looked over her shoulder at you. Jimin also stood up and stood next to her.

"You were already late asking for it," Aeri said.

She looked forward again and bent forward as she took off her sweatpants. She wasn't wearing underwear, which wasn't a surprise to you or Jimin. Her huge round ass was instantly exposed, and she stayed bent over for a few seconds so you could get a look at her pussy. She then straightened her back and proceeded to take off her sweater. You didn't see her tits at first, just her bare back.

By then you had already finished the first sandwich and you had half a can of monster. While you opened the second wrapper, Jimin seemed to forget that they were in a competition, because she played Ash-B's Booty on her phone. Perfect song for Aeri to shake her butt, ironically.

Aeri put on a really impressive show for the two of you. You should have expected such perfect and hypnotizing control of her buttocks, but she still managed to divert your attention from the food so that you focused solely on her. She danced every second of the song, from start to finish. With that you no longer needed to hear any more arguments.

She walked towards you and sat on your left thigh, turning her body to face you with a mischievous expression.

"Let's not forget when you told me how tasty my ass was after the night we spent together in San Francisco," she moved her ass from side to side over your leg. "Oh, and also how much you came inside it while you were sucking my toes."

She stood up from your thigh and finished her presentation with a simple, but quite effective, slap on her own buttock; making sure you noticed how the flesh of her ass and thighs responded with a jiggle.

Using memories and personal experiences was playing dirty. Maybe you should have clarified that before starting the 'debate', however it was too late. Aeri had already managed to make your cock hard under your boxers, but neither of them noticed since the table hid your crotch from her eyes.

"Alright, next," you turned your attention to your second sandwich. With that bite it was already halfway done. 

Aeri went to lie on her side on the bed facing you. Jimin took her place in front of you, and without you asking her she began to undress. You looked up, watching as she first took off her top, revealing the black bra she was wearing underneath, which also didn't take long to fall to the floor. With her heavy, lovely tits free, she moved to her lower garments, which she lowered to her ankles with a single quick tug. Now she was also completely naked.

"Hey, it's not fair," she said. "You are still dressed and we are naked."

"I'm eating, Rina," you defended yourself. "I am unable to eat while naked."

"That sounds like a terrible excuse," Aeri said to your right.

You looked at her and put your finger in front of your lips.

"Hush, young lady. Who is the judge here?"

Aeri rolled her eyes and you turned your attention to Jimin.

"Go ahead, Miss Yoo," you nodded, returning your attention to what was missing from your sandwich.

Jimin cleared her throat and took a step forward, so you could see up close her pale tits and her seemingly freshly shaved pussy.

"I'll start by saying that there is no man or woman who can be depressed while looking at a nice pair of tits," she said. "In addition, it has been proven that boobs are much more popular in Asia, Europe and Oceania than asses."

By the time she finished speaking you had already finished the last sandwich and had wiped your mouth with a napkin. You took a drink of your monster and prepared to challenge her, but just as you opened your mouth she pushed the table away from between you, straddled your lap and grabbed you by the neck to bury your face between her tits.

"Do you remember how my cute feet got you in the hot tub?" she said in a low voice, rubbing her tits back and forth against your face. "Then you fucked this pair of heavy tits and painted my face with cum... Surely that was better than fucking Gigi's ass while you sucked on her toes, right?"

She shook her tits again and again. With your face there in the middle you were sure that tits were a better option, but of course, your face had not been between Aeri's buttocks in the same way. What a difficult decision.

Jimin got off you, and standing in front of you finished her argument by giving her tits a good squeeze. Then she went to lie down on the bed, perpendicular to Aeri. You stayed silent, staring at the empty monster can. Your cock hurt because of how hard it was, those two had played very dirty.

You sighed.

"Very well... I'd love to give you a verdict," you said, standing up to walk in front of the bottom edge of the bed. "But aside from the fact that you cheated..." you took off your t-shirt and threw it next to the girls' clothes. "I will need practical arguments to be able to decide a winner."

Aeri, who bit her lower lip, and Jimin looked at each other with a knowing smile. Then they nodded and knelt up on the bed to get closer to you. The first to crash her lips against yours was Aeri, who didn't bother to hide her enthusiasm and the desire she had to taste you after so long. Jimin wasn't patient either; she leaned down to kiss your chest and collarbone, as she did so, she pulled your shorts down along with your boxers to free your throbbing cock.

Aeri added her tongue to the kiss and clung to your neck with both arms, making it clear that she was feral at that moment. You did the same, and now your tongues were involved in a fiery fight to take control. Your hands did not stay still; you lowered your left to meet Jimin's tits, which you squeezed and massaged; the right one went straight to Aeri's ass, squeezing her right buttock and reaching down to her pussy to rub your fingers between her folds.

Jimin brought her hand to your cock and rubbed it slowly, also going down to caress your balls. But soon you felt her lips on your shaft, giving it wet kisses until she took you inside her mouth. You couldn't help but let out a moan into Aeri's mouth. You broke away from the kiss to look down, finding Jimin on her hands and knees as she sucked your cock.

"Hey, it's not fair!" Aeri protested. "I was distracted!"

She got down on her hands and knees as well, letting Jimin pump her head over the middle of your shaft for a few more seconds before elbowing her away.

"Envious bitch!" Jimin protested as well, as Aeri took more of your cock into her mouth and pumped it faster. 

The next minute was about the two of them taking turns in hurried ways to suck your cock. You couldn't complain, they knew exactly what they were doing and their mouths felt incredible; besides, you had a most satisfying view: both incredible pale asses perfectly raised and a pair of smooth backs that you ran your hands over before squeezing one of their buttocks.

"Why don't you put those pretty feet to work?" you managed to say between gasps.

Aeri, who currently had your cock in her mouth, lifted her feet and moved them for you to see.

"Who do you want to go first?" She asked as she pulled you out of her, Jimin joining her in licking the back of your shaft.

“Jiminie,” you said without hesitation. "But I want to suck your feet."

"Fuck, too bad we didn't bring lube," Jimin said, before turning on the bed and lying on her back.

"It won't be necessary," Aeri replied with an arrogant smile, to acquire the same position as Jimin. "My pretty feet are going to melt him." 

Aeri placed one of her feet on your abdomen and rubbed it up and down. Jimin brought both of them to your cock. With one she played with your balls, and with the other she used her toes to rub your saliva-soaked tip.

"Yours?" Jimin said, rubbing the back of your shaft with the foot she had on your balls. "Ha! As if you had his favorite feet."

Aeri now brought her foot to your face, you gladly accepted it into your mouth, sucking each toe of hers hungrily while Jimin now used both feet on either side of your cock. She moved them slowly, just like she started that day in the bathtub. Then she picked up speed. You caressed the back of their thighs, and then went up to their pussies.

"There's a reason he wants to suck my feet first, right?" Aeri replied, caressing the side of your face with her toes while you sucked on the others, "He likes mine better."

Jimin took that as a challenge and set out to move her feet even better, faster and tightening her grip on you with her toes. You moaned with Aeri's foot in your mouth, and then moved on to the next one. With the fingers of each hand of yours you now rubbed her pussies, eliciting small moans from both of them.

"Do you hear that?" Jimin said after a gasp. "My pretty feet are driving him crazy."

"He moans because my feet taste delicious," Aeri gasped.

You pulled Aeri's feet out of your mouth and looked at them, tired of their chatter.

"Shut your mouths and switch places," you ordered.

Jimin giggled and looked at Aeri.

"He doesn't want to suck your feet anymore," she said, removing her feet from your cock.

"I said shut your mouths," you had to say again before Aeri replied, "I don't want to hear any more arguing between you two."

"As you order daddy," Aeri giggled, now bringing her feet to your cock.

"I will obey only because I want to win," Jimin said, doing the same only to your face.

Aeri put care and dedication into making sure her feet felt as good as Jimin's did, which you were now sucking and licking; you distributed wet kisses too, both on the backs of her feet and on her soles. Aeri meanwhile used her soles to wrap your cock between firm flesh and silky skin, rubbing it up and down non-stop.

You liked sucking Aeri's feet more, and you liked the way Jimin used her feet on your cock more. In that field it was a technical tie, but you weren't going to give anyone the pleasure of knowing that. You let your moans speak for you, as well as the way you were now touching both of their pussies. Soon you had two fingers inside each one. They both moaned in unison.

You were approaching your peak at an accelerated pace. You moved your fingers faster in and out of both of their pussies, making them moan faster and double their efforts. Aeri moved her feet hungrily, and Jimin pressed her toes into your mouth. Cumming thanks to Aeri's efforts would have been an ego boost for her and she would have taken it as a victory, which you didn't want. You were going to take the selfish, but fair route.

“Put your feet together, come on,” you growled, feeling the tingle in your lower abdomen. “I don't want any objections.”

Jimin obeyed immediately. Aeri did so reluctantly, but she left your cock after a few seconds. They put their feet together in front of your cock, intertwining their toes with each other as they watched your cock, biting their bottom lip. You brought your hand to your cock and rubbed it repeatedly against her toes, then masturbated quickly. The unload didn't take long to come out; jets of cum shot out one after another, these fell between their feet, leaving a thick cover of thick liquid on their toes.

“Why didn't you let me drain you?” Aeri protested.

“Because it's a tie, Uchinaga,” you said between gasps.

“Huh? “What do you mean by a tie!” Jimin also complained.

“If you don't like it, I don't care. Now, clean each other’s feet,” you ordered.

Even though the two of them were in a kind of competition, they did not hesitate to accept that proposal. The first to act was Aeri, who got on her knees and grabbed Jimin by her ankles to suck on her toes, cleaning every trace of semen from there between small moans.

“Fuck, what a delight,” she said.

Jimin pushed her so she fell back against the bed again. She did the same as Aeri, grabbing her ankles to clean her without missing a single drop. When they finished they both saw you, Jimin licking his lips. They were waiting for more orders from you. You just wanted to fuck them, and you certainly wouldn't make them wait after you'd been fingering them for a couple of minutes.

“Who wants to take my cock first?” you said, sitting up on your ankles.

Clearly the question was useless, they both instantly knelt in front of you.

"I!" they said in unison.

They looked at each other with frowns.

“Why do you want everything first!” Aeri screeched.

“Because I am the leader and I have the right!” Jimin replied.

“You fucked him for two nights in a row girl!”

You sighed and put your hands on your face, shaking your head. They were doing it again.

"So what! Would you simply be satiated by his cock?”

"No bu-"

Already tired of their argument, you decided to act following only your instincts. You wrapped Aeri's fleshy body in your arms and pulled forward with her. She let out a gasp and grabbed onto your shoulders as you fell on top of her. Before Jimin could protest, you extended an arm towards her and lifted a finger. She took the cue immediately, crossing her arms.

Aeri looked into your eyes and spread her legs wide open. The tip of your cock rubbed against her wet folds.

“You couldn't hold back the desire to finally be able to fuck my pussy, huh?” she said, switching to English.

“Don't make me change my mind, Uchinaga,” you warned, and before she could respond you kissed her.

She let out a small squeal of happiness against your lips when you did so, then wrapped her arms around your neck and deepened the kiss, giving your hair little tugs as her fingers tangled in it. You left one hand resting on her mattress next to her waist, and the other you took to her thigh to lift it up, press it against your side and squeeze it. She raised her hips impatiently; she made your cock rub again and again against her wet pussy, in the end you couldn't help but give in to her temptation and gave her what she wanted. You grabbed your cock with your left hand and guided it inside her.

Aeri widened her eyes and then grimaced in pleasure.

“Oh my fucking god!” she squealed, as your cock forced its way between her folds.

Jimin giggled, lying on her side to Aeri's left to look at her.

“It feels massive, doesn't it?” she said.

“It feels massive and fucking incredible,” Aeri agreed, closing her eyes and arching her back.

The entire length of your cock was buried inside her without much trouble, and fuck, how soft and hot Aeri's pussy felt was overwhelming. You let out a growl and attacked her neck with kisses. She held onto the back of your neck with one hand, and the other was on your lower back as you began to move your hips slowly. She let out long, sensual moans each time every inch of throbbing flesh filled her to the bottom, but the way she put pressure on your lower back told you to move faster.

“Fuck that pussy with everything you got baby. Mmmgh!” Aeri moaned into your ear. “It's all fucking yours, act like it!”

It wasn't an offer you received every day, you certainly weren't going to turn it down. Your hips pumped faster now, gradually transforming that into a frantic fucking that drove Aeri crazy. You kissed her jaw and chin, then met her lips again. After kissing her for a few long seconds you straightened your back to look at her. Her cheeks were flushed and her moans didn't let her formulate any more words. You took her legs and raised each one to your shoulders; then you leaned forward, so that her thighs were pressed against her torso and her knees were as close to her own face as possible.

“Wow, she's more flexible than she looks,” Jimin said next to her. She slowly touched her pussy, making circles on her clitoris.

Neither you nor Aeri answered her. You were focused on hammering into her warm, plump pussy, a bead of sweat dripping down your temple despite having the air conditioning on, while Aeri was focused on not screaming too loud from being thrust so fast and deep.

She clung to the back of your neck with both hands and dug her nails there, arching her back again between intense squeals.

“Fuck, don't stop! I'm gonna cum so fucking hard on that fucking juicy piece of meat!“

You stood up again and looked down at her. You rested your hands on her thighs and kept them pressed against her torso, moving your hips up and down to keep her pinned against the mattress. It didn't take long for your cock to make her explode. Her thighs tensed and her entire body was shaken by an energetic spasm. Her toes curled up too, and to keep with tradition, you sucked on them as she rode out her orgasm.

“Blessed Jesus, you really made her cum hard,” said Jimin, who was already letting out light moans.

Aeri looked at you with weak, but clearly satisfied eyes. Her chest rose and she fell with labored breaths.

“Yeah… waiting for that cock was totally worth it,” she mused. “But damn, I want more.”

“Well then it's your turn to wait, bitch,” Jimin replied, grabbing you by her shoulders and pulling you back, making you slide out of Aeri's pussy and fall on your back. Your head almost went over the bottom edge of the bed.

You let out a tired breath and looked at her with half-closed eyes.

“Fuck, you could be a little more subtle, couldn't you?” you said.

“Nah.”

Jimin mounted you nimbly, both slender thighs on either side of your hips. She didn't hesitate to raise hers, take your cock with one hand to stand it upright and impale herself on it. Her pussy was already a frequent acquaintance for your cock, which fit perfectly inside those tight, wet walls that fascinated you so much. She let out a moan as her ass rested against your pelvis.

“I'm never going to fucking get tired of that feeling,” she gasped, resting her hands on your chest.

“What a slut,” Aeri said behind Jimin.

Jimin closed her eyes and pursed her lips between moans, as she slowly moved up and down on your cock.

“I wasn't the one who left the bottom of my swimsuit in a hotel pool,” she said without further concern. Easy and effective response to which Aeri had no reply.

You weren't really paying attention to what they were saying, at this point it was useless to keep trying to get the two of them to shut their mouths once and for all and not argue, so you just focused on enjoying their bodies.

You brought your hands to Jimin's small, soft waist; You held your fingers there for a moment, then you went to her ass, squeezed it a couple of times and then gave her right buttock a spicy spank that made her scream. Not resisting the urge to kiss her, you surrounded her body with your arms and pulled her towards you. Her lips crashed against yours automatically, and her tits crushed against your chest.

Your lips battled against each other for a few long seconds, your arms firmly clinging to her torso as they did so. She moved her ass faster, taking every inch of your cock in and out of her with skillful, sensual movements. You ran your hands along her back, feeling the creamy skin beneath your fingertips. One of your hands ended up on the back of her head, there you couldn't help but caress her long, silky hair, which covered your face on each side.

“Come on bitch, finish him,” you heard Aeri say. “I already did all the work, it should be a piece of cake.”

Expecting Jimin not to fall for easy provocations was like expecting something from a wall. Exactly, you just couldn't expect anything. Jimin took that as another challenge, and she pulled away from your lips to plant both feet on the mattress on either side of your waist.

“Look how I make him fill my pussy, Uchinaga,” said Jimin, who began to jump on your cock.

Not even in the two nights you were together did you see Jimin so enthusiastic while she was riding you. It was like she had gained new strength, like a damn illogical Dragon Ball Z power-up. All because Aeri Uchinaga didn't know how to shut her big mouth and because she didn't know how to turn a deaf ear. She was jumping so hard and with such speed that you thought she was going to split you in half. Of course this had its advantages, you couldn't complain. Her tits bounced hypnotically, up and down and even making small circles. You latched onto both immediately.

Jimin dug her nails into your chest and scratched it downwards lightly. You let out a small grunt of pain, and as 'revenge' you gave one of her tits a loud slap that reverberated throughout the room along with the sound of her ass crashing against your pelvis. She didn't care in the slightest, in fact, in her eyes you could read that she wanted you to do it again. That's how you did it, giving multiple slaps to both of her tits. You didn't stop until they were red hot.

The hot scene soon became too much to bear. Jimin continued jumping as if her life depended on it—not her life, but the damn challenge that had her so energetic—; she brought her hands to your neck out of inertia, putting pressure around it with her slender fingers. It was something she had put into practice a couple of times that night, and each time she managed to give you that little boost you needed to cum.

"Mmmgh fuck!" you growled, pushing upwards as you came.

It was always religiously true that Jimin also came from feeling your cum filling her pussy. This time was no exception. She sank back down with a loud moan to the ceiling, grinding her hips forward and back between strong spasms, as your cock shot multiple thick jets of cum into her.

You held on to her waist this time, so she would lower her knees and lean into you again. You wrapped your arms around her again and kissed her for a few long seconds, exchanging moans and labored breaths. Finally, Jimin moved off you so that your cum flowed freely from her pussy to her right thigh.

Aeri watched your cum leak through Jimin's folds and bit her lip.

"Mmm… that looks delicious," she said.

"Clean up then," you said with a nod.

Aeri didn't hesitate for a single moment to go straight to Jimin's crotch, grabbing her thighs and burying her mouth there to collect every drop of cum that came out of her pussy. Jimin, who was still somewhat sensitive, squirmed between small painful moans as she stroked Aeri's hair. When Aeri finished, they looked at you.

"Who has the better pussy, judge?" she said between gasps, grabbing her own tits.

Aeri also looked expectantly at your response.

If you had to be honest, Jimin's pussy was something magical, a thing out of this world. But for your first time inside Aeri's, you had to say that she wasn't too far from that status. You had fucked her only once, while you did it with Jimin for a whole day. In any case, you didn't want to give a winner there either.

"Another tie," you said unabashedly.

They both frowned and you almost felt like you were going to get beaten up.

"What?!" they both said in unison.

"Calm your competitive asses and let me be just an indecisive man, will you?" You raised your eyebrows.

"No, fuck my tits right now," Jimin said, kneeling up.

You raised an eyebrow.

"And what makes you think you're in charge?" you said. "I'm sorry but you'll have to wait until I want to do it."

"So what do you want to do now, daddy?" Aeri said, lying on her stomach and picking up her knee to make her ass look much more appetizing.

You'd consider that a vile trick too, but it was perfectly clean. Only you were a weak man for a good ass of that magnitude.

"Oh my god, you even call him daddy," Jimin said as if disappointed. "Who's the slut now?"

"I am, any problem?" she looked at you. "Well? Are you going to eat my ass or not, daddy?"

"I'm going to do more than fucking eat it," you said.

You lay face down and placed your head above Aeri's huge ass, which you kissed on each buttock again and again until it left with small saliva stains; then you grabbed each butt cheek with your hand and spread them to each side, exposing her butthole for you. You planted your mouth there, eating Aeri's ass like a hungry dog. You licked and kissed in every way possible, with the main goal of getting her ready for what you were both waiting for.

When you were satisfied with that ass you knelt up and turned to look at Jimin.

"Do you want to lube it up for me, honey?" you said. She had her brow furrowed and her arms crossed. She was upset. "Don't be spoiled, Rina. You'll have your turn too."

It was enough for you to bring your hand to her left cheek and rub it gently. She softened her face little by little and pressed herself against your hand. Then she complied with your order, getting on her hands and knees to be level with your cock to suck it, purposely releasing spit in the middle of the blowjob to leave your shaft slippery and ready.

"Thank you, what a good girl," Aeri said with a giggle.

Jimin frowned again.

"I didn't do it for you, whore," she said.

"Shut up," you said. They both fell silent.

You took your lubricated cock and rode Aeri's ass, bracing your thighs on either side of her hips to rub your tip between her buttocks. She looked at you over her shoulder and looked down, grabbed her own buttocks and spread them for you. Next you pressed down on her butthole, which began to engulf you inch by inch.

You and Aeri let out a long moan of satisfaction, as your cock was already halfway inside her ass.

“Fuck, I missed this fucking delicious ass too much,” you growled, clinging to Aeri's waist.

"And I missed that huge cock inside it," Aeri replied, hugging the pillow she had under her head.

When your cock disappeared into Aeri's more than experienced ass you rested there for a few seconds, letting her feel every inch filling her. You soon began to move up and down, pumping your hips at a calm pace at first so that her butthole was stretched and ready for the real frenzy. Aeri quickly tired of your gentleness, and with her face she screamed for you to go faster. You fucked her ass as fast and hard as you could, hands resting on her back under her and also pulling her hair from time to time. Of course, you also filled her with multiple slaps but on her ass, now the red tone of her buttocks matched the one on Jimin's tits. Between hair pulls and brutal pumps, she came, hugging the pillow even tighter and biting it to drown out her screams.

"For the love of god, I definitely won't let these bitches have you so often..." she said between gasps, seeing you with strands of her hair stuck to her face.

"I'm a text away, Uchinaga," you said, leaning forward to kiss her cheek.

"Is it my turn now?" Jimin said from behind you.

You got out of Aeri's ass and turned to look at her.

"Of course," you nodded and spread your arms. "Come here, my spoiled, competitive little whore."

"There I go."

Jimin rushed into your arms and you received her with a warm hug, filling every part of her face with kisses before moving to her lips. You lasted a few long seconds kissing as if you were in one of those cliché romantic movies where the man holds the woman in her arms at the moment when she is about to fall to the ground. It must have been a very funny image for Aeri, it's a shame she couldn't see it because you had destroyed her ass.

After having kissed her enough you laid her on her back and you lay on her stomach between her outstretched legs. On a normal occasion your target would have been her delicious pussy, but this time you focused your attention on her butthole. She brought a hand to your hair and stroked it gently, watching you with bright little eyes as you planted your tongue on her ass.

You made sure that she enjoyed eating her ass as much as you did, which you think you did quite well since she was already twisting her hips slightly while grabbing a tit.

"Are you ready, baby?" you said, looking into her eyes.

She bit her lower lip, and nodded with flushed cheeks.

"Well, this time I'll have to lube myself," you said, bringing a hand to your mouth.

"No!" She interrupted quickly, then spit into her own hand and brought it to your cock to rub it until it had regained its slippery state. When you made the move to guide your cock into her ass yourself. She stopped you once again to do it herself.

"Fuck, you're a good girl, aren't you?" you said in a murmur, looking into her eyes as your tip pressed against her butthole.

"I am for you and only you..." she murmured back. "But don't tell Gigi that."

"I heard it," Aeri said immediately, quietly.

Before Yoo 'Short Tempered' Jimin could argue again, you pushed forward and took your cock inside her tight ass. Any possible response Jimin was going to give Aeri was cut off by a high-pitched squeal of pleasure as she felt your cock fill her ass.

"Please kiss me again," Jimin requested between small moans when your cock was about to reach the bottom.

You leaned forward and she hugged you again, both arms around your neck the moment your lips met again. You pleasured her only for a few seconds, until your cock had already reached the bottom and you had already done the first slow pumps.

Jimin's ass wasn't as experienced and easy to stretch as Aeri's. It required patience. You were willing to have it, after all, the sight of her face flushed and twisted with pleasure made every juicy second that your cock slid in and out of her butthole worth it.

"Are you okay, baby?" you said as you straightened your back, caressing her inner thighs.

She nodded with her eyes closed and her lips pursed.

"I'm fine, love..." she gasped. "You just fuck me, show no mercy. It's an order."

You smiled and gave one of her tits a hard slap. The red was revived. She squealed and opened her eyes to look at you.

"What makes you think you can order me around?"

"I don't care, shut your mouth and obey..."

You put a hand on her neck. You squeezed your fingers tightly, and she automatically brought her hands to hold onto your wrist since you were cutting off her breathing. You moved your hips faster, harder. Now you made her tits bounce subtly.

"Are you sure? Reconsider your answer... come on," you growled, loosening your grip.

"Do..." she swallowed thickly and muffled a moan against her pursed lips. "Do whatever you want with me daddy."

You heard a laugh from Aeri.

"Who's the slut now?" she said, imitating Jimin's exact tone of voice when she told her a few minutes ago.

Once again, you had to deprive her of any option to respond, now bringing both hands to her neck to now fuck her without any kind of mercy, just as she had asked you. Her tits started bouncing faster. She spread her legs wide and moved them as far back as she could, giving you better access to her ass while you fucked her.

You didn't expect that the law that whenever she felt how you filled her with your cum she also came would also apply to her butthole, but hilariously it did. You let go of her neck and she took a sharp breath. At this point she was no longer moaning, she could only let out muffled, incomplete sounds. You held one hand to her waist and with the other you squeezed her tits. Seconds later you came, and the moment you felt a drop of cum inside her, she followed you.

“Mmggh, fuck yes,” Jimin groaned, clenching the sheets on either side of her as you shot cum inside her. "Fill my ass daddy... fill me to the fucking bottom."

Aeri gasped in surprise.

"My god... Jiminie is a cum slut, who was going to say that."

Despite your efforts to make Jimin not respond with words, she did so anyway with actions, smacking Aeri's hand on her thigh to make her squeal. You leaned forward to brush your lips against Jimin's ear.

"She may or may not bother you..." you whispered. "But she's right."

Jimin grabbed you by your neck and also brought her mouth to your ear.

"Yeah, I'm your fucking cum slut..." she whispered back. "But she doesn't have to know."

"I don't think she didn't notice, anyway."

You and she laughed. You stood up, pulling out of her ass to watch your cum spill out of her. You looked at Aeri, and just by meeting your eyes she instantly knew what to do. You moved away and she took your position, she lowered herself down and started eating Jimin's ass, consequently swallowing your cum on the way. You couldn't help but give Aeri another spank while she did it.

When they finished cleaning they looked at you again.

"So, who has the best ass?" Aeri said, clearly expecting only one answer judging by the look on her face.

This time you couldn't just lie, you had to be completely honest. As much as you loved Jimin's ass, Aeri was on a whole other level.

"The winner here will be Aeri," you said, lying down on the corner of the bed to rest.

"Yayyyy!" Aeri screamed to small applause. "I knew it, I kneeeew it."

Contrary to what you thought at first, Jimin didn't seem to care about her defeat in this round. She seemed calm, perhaps aware of what was coming next. She just lay down on a pillow and moved her tits from side to side.

"I don't care, you won't be able to beat me at this, slut," she said, bringing her arms together to squeeze her tits together.

You sighed and closed your eyes.

“Fuck, just let me rest for a moment,” you said. "I feel like I'm going to die at any moment."

For the first time all night, the two of them seemed to agree on something, as they lay down, one on each side of you, to fill you with kisses, cuddles and caresses of all kinds. In short, if heaven existed, it must be something extremely similar to that.

It took about twenty minutes until you were halfway composed.

"Okay," you said as you opened your eyes. "Jiminie, lie down."

Jimin got up from your side and went straight to lay down on the same pillow as before. You also got up and went to straddle her, your recently hard cock again—thanks to the two of them touching it seconds before— floating above her tits.

You placed your cock in the middle of those pair of heavy mounds and she brought her arms together to trap you between them. This time you didn't let her do the honors, you used your own saliva to lubricate your cock and part of her tits. Then, you pumped your hips back and forth. There you didn't have to be patient, so you went straight with frantic pumps over and over again.

Last time it had been Jimin who had fucked you with her tits, but you hadn't had the chance to actually fuck her tits. It was an incredibly pleasurable experience,  like sliding your cock between two pieces of soft, warm meat. You did it for about two minutes. But as much as you loved doing it, you couldn't give her the pleasure of draining you again.

You stopped and got out from between her tits. Jimin looked at you with a frown.

"Huh? What are you doing?" she said.

"I'm sorry, but you've already made me cum twice," you said.

"Inside you," Aeri added. You nodded.

"The fair thing would be to let Aeri make me cum this time."

Jimin rolled her eyes and shook her head, visibly offended when she knew perfectly well that you were right.

You moved towards Aeri, who stopped you before you straddled her lap.

"Nuh uh," she shook her head. "I already know that she beats me in tits, I don't care about that. I just want to make you cum with my thighs."

You raised both eyebrows, surprised at the fact that she left her competitiveness aside for once all night.

"Only if you let me paint your tits and face anyway," you said.

Aeri smiled.

"It's a deal, daddy," she nodded and lay on her side, with both legs out to the side.

When you positioned yourself in front of her and made the gesture of entering between her thighs, she stopped you again and spit on her hand to lubricate your cock with it. When your cock was slippery again she raised one thigh, and when your cock was in the middle of both, she lowered it again to wrap it in a sandwich of thick, tender meat.

"Oh my god..." you gasped, throwing your head back.

You clung to the back of Aeri's knee with one hand and her thigh with the other, using as much downward pressure as possible to feel your cock being smothered by flesh from above and below.

"You love it, don't you?" Aeri said, staring at you.

"Oh fuck yes," you nodded between small grunts.

You pumped slowly at first, just to feel every little detail and texture of her perfect thighs as you slid in and out of them. The sensation was similar to being between Jimin's tits, only it felt much warmer and tighter, as Aeri made sure to keep her thighs as pressed between your cock as possible. It was suffocating to a certain extent, but you didn't mind in the least.

One of your hands came to rest on her waist, but then she quickly went up to her more than decent tits to squeeze them and play with her nipples. Aeri let out small moans as you played with her tits.

"Why don't you put it further to the right?" she said, referring to your cock.

She lifted her thigh and grabbed your cock to position it a few inches further to the right, where it met the silky smooth folds of her plump pussy on the side. She lowered the thigh again, making the meat sandwich once more. You were free to fuck her thighs once more, only this time you had an extra stimulus: her folds rubbing against your cock on the right.

It was kind of embarrassing how quickly that turned out, as you darted out from between her thighs and rose to stand above her, both of your feet on either side of her shoulders. And in true JAV style, you masturbated on top of her to shoot your last jets of cum on her tits and, mainly, her face. Both sides were painted white in a matter of seconds.

Aeri gasped satisfied and licked the cum from her own lips and chin with her tongue.

"Oh god...this feels like heaven to me," she said with a gasp looking at you.

You looked at Jimin, who raised her eyebrows.

"Do I really have to clean her up?" she said.

"Just fucking come here, Jiminie," Aeri said holding out her hand.

Jimin reluctantly took Aeri's hand and let herself be pulled by her. She fell silent on the Japanese woman's body, and both began to share a torrid making out session whose rather secondary objective was to clean the cum from Aeri's face. It took about a minute until Jimin had cleaned both the cum from her face and her tits.

"As you can understand, this is a debate that is impossible to close..." you said between labored breaths. "But I'm happy to continue trying to make you decide."

"Can we spend the night with you?" Jimin said, hugging Aeri from the side.

"Please say yes," Aeri said with a pout, also hugging Jimin and entwining her thighs with hers.

"Please no more sex, that's the only condition," you said, lying down on the other end of the bed. "My tank is emptied”.

"Just now we spent a while giving you kisses and making you a spoiled boy," Jimin said. "Who says we can't do it again all night?"

That was all you needed to hear after going through such daytime garbage. You moved to lie behind Jimin and wrapped them both in a hug. Jimin gave you a kiss on your forearm, and Aeri gave you one on the back of your hand.

You spent the rest of the night looking like a polyamorous relationship in which you were the main focus. You chatted, laughed a lot and told silly stories. Just what you needed to forget, just for a moment, about all the shit that was coming your way.

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

As always. Thanks for reading! MASTERLIST HERE!

[erwinsvow]

i thinkkk all 3 boys have a thing for r but she only has a thing for rafe (realises when sofia shows up) 🤪 #kook trio reader

this would play out so funny seriously timeline not making any sense but oh well

you watch, jaw clenched and chewing on your cheek, rafe talking to the girl he's been with recently. normally you can push your feelings aside, but it stings this time, since she's been around for weeks. he never stays with one girl for this long, no girl besides you, you think bitterly.

"does she really have to come every time?" you ask, not realizing how jealous you sound. topper and kelce exchange a look. they saw this coming from a mile away.

you are a little oblivious, they discussed one night, not catching onto the way kelce has been suggesting the two of you go to dinner alone for the past month. no, you always agree and then tell him you're inviting rafe too.

you think topper coming over for ice cream and movies is the way he's deciding to cope over breaking up with sarah. you don't even realize this isn't a communal activity, texting rafe and telling him to pick up the ice cream.

it's fine, they've decided, except now you're getting upset, since rafe is doing to you what you've been doing to them.

"it's been like two weeks," top comments, taking a swig of his beer.

"seems like forever. what's he see in her anyways?" you hate that you even asked the question—envy didn't suit you, especially not with your best friends. she's nice, and pretty, and if she's good for rafe then they should be together.

you should be happy for him. it stings even worse because you're not, not at all.

"don't answer that," you follow up, shooting one last dirty look at them and turning away.

"hey! christ." kelce says, while you pick up his scotch and finish it in one drink.

"i need another drink," you huff.

"stop moping," top says.

"yeah, we all know he can't stay away from you. give it another week," kelce snickers, laughing with top.

you don't catch his sentence, a new idea coming to mind.

"what's that pogue's name? the one who sells weed? jj?" you turn to kelce and top, eyes wide and eager, smiling for the first time in an hour. "anyone got his number?"

[macfrog]

sweet child o' mine | pt. iii

now taking name suggestions for my joel's duck doodle. must rhyme with a curse word. most creative wins.

pairing: neighbor!joel x fem!reader

summary: as your pregnancy progresses, you and joel are getting closer. dangerously closer.

warnings: reader is literally pregnant so typical pregnancy symptoms & descriptions of stuff like extreme nausea and gagging (reader throws up off-page, no graphic description past sore throat/esophagus afterward), body changing, nerves around birth/becoming mom, another sonogram (gender reveal...?), baby kicks felt, labor pains shhh, age gap (late 20s reader, late 40s joel), joel is dating someone who isn't reader, our girl hates nye (she's valid), tommy uses colors to represent gender (he is Wrong), joel is for sure emotionally cheating at this point and reader knows it, joel kisses someone who is not his partner again, f masturbation, memories of the hot dirty sex they had whew, a SPRINKLING of breeding kink, praise kink, size kink, another parent dies (i love parents i promise ????), jealous!reader, protective!joel, alcohol consumption, cursing, a LOT of angst, lots of fluff, lil bit of smut, and duckie has the best comedic timing of any character in this entire series. :) DISCLAIMER: this series covers some issues which i know may be sensitive and possibly triggering to some. warnings will always be as thorough as possible, but if there’s ever anything you feel i’ve missed, please let me know. feel free to drop by my inbox anytime.

word count: 11.4k (sorry. lots to cover lots to do.)

pt. i / series masterlist | main masterlist | playlist | follow @macfroglets w notifs on to be the first to hear when i post 🩵

December.

The days are funneled by a quick pinch of dark, the breeze heavy in its sail. Houses lined with twinkling lights and windows pierced by pointed trees. Crooning from every radio station, teary-eyed movies on TV, and spiced apple everything.

You hate every fucking minute of it.

“Wait a second,” Tommy sits forward, leaning in, “you never do nothin’ for New Years?”

You shrug, lifting your eyebrows. “Nope. Just don’t like it much. That a crime?”

He considers it as he hands his empty tumbler up to Joel, his head lolling some. He’s on his…fourth drink of the night, right? Though, if you take into account his earlier argument – I’m eatin’ as I go. It don’t count. – it’s probably more like two. But it’s whiskey, so –

Never mind.

“Yeah,” Tommy finally decides, “kinda. The hell’s wrong with you, girl?”

“Tommy.”

Joel’s voice is a warning, edged by the sharp clink of three glasses pinched in his fingers.

His brother laughs amiably in response, though, nodding to your mock-offended expression. “At least you’re spendin’ it right this year. Last one before lil’ Dickie comes along, huh?”

Maria slaps his shoulder, rolling her eyes. “It’s Duckie,” she hisses, glancing over to you.

“Shoot,” he says, chuckling. “I knew that. My mistake.” And then, hand out towards you in an apology which makes your shoulders jerk with laughter, “I did know that, I swear.”

Tommy and Maria flew in a few days ago; the younger Miller adamant that he’d spend one last New Years with his big brother before he became a father. The night they arrived, they showed up on your doorstep – a hamper filled with diapers and muslins and baby socks hanging from Maria’s arm. They’ve asked to hang out with you every day since.

They’re good fun. Tommy likes you, at least, enough to tease you as much as you figure a brother might. He’s definitely the louder of the two – sometimes you swear you notice Joel cringing at him, something caught between a laugh and a frown on his face. And Maria’s sweet; she’s asked probably six times every hour since she first saw you if you’re feeling okay, if you’re tired, if you’re hungry.

Joel text you yesterday morning. Tommy and Maria wondering if you feel like coming over for NYE. No pressure, he added, I lie pretty good.

A smile snuck its way across your lips before you had the chance to tame it. Sure, you typed, I’ll bring the newspaper.

What Joel’s told them, about the wedding and the baby and everything since, you’ve no idea. You guys almost talked about it when he told you they were flying down after Christmas, but before you got the chance to ask him, Vanessa pulled up out front.

Not exactly a conversation you felt like having with the dude’s girlfriend hooked around his right arm.

She smiles at you, now, as you shuffle to the edge of the armchair you’re curled up in. Joel’s armchair – the plaid blanket cradling you, the leather soft and crinkled beneath. Your eyes quickly drop from hers when his hand reaches for your mug, your fingers crossing as you pass it up. “Let me come help,” you say, pushing from the chair.

He holds up a palm, shaking his head once. “Stay. I got it.”

“Thanks,” you murmur, settling back. Vanessa resumes smiling. You wish she’d fucking quit it. You wish you’d fucking quit focusing on her.

Joel knocks the mug gently against your shoulder with a small, almost sympathetic smile, and heads for the kitchen – leaving you sat between Tommy and Maria on one couch, and Vanessa on the other. You tuck your heels under your thighs, picking at a hangnail as you wait for the conversation to thaw.

Maria makes some comment about Austin in the winter: how different it is to Jackson, and the three of you nod and hum in agreement before the chatter fizzles to nothing again. You glance over to the clock, watching the hands chase one another to twelve.

This isn’t what you imagined a get-together with Joel’s family would feel like. Tight, tense. So tense that you can feel the weight on your chest, closing your lungs. Talking about the weather and the holiday traffic, talking about nothing to avoid talking about everything.

Tommy’s chin lifts, after a second too long of silence. “Hey, Joel!” he barks. “You ain’t shown me this nursery yet!”

Joel leans around the doorframe, half-distracted. “Barely even started it, little brother. Crib only got delivered yesterday.”

“Sheesh,” Maria’s eyes widen, “you sure are prepared.”

Vanessa laughs when Joel rolls his eyes and vanishes again. “You got no idea,” she says, “I have never seen him so…pedantic, right?” She looks to you, still smiling. So sweet, you worry your lips are pursing at the sight of it. Your neck tensing. Your eyes watering.

“Yeah,” you reply, nodding shyly and swallowing back the saccharine. “I think he’s more nervous than he’s letting on.”

Joel’s voice calls from the kitchen again: your name. When you answer, he says, “Why don’t you take Tommy up, show ‘im what we got so far?” and then, leaning back around the door, “She picked the color ‘n whatnot.”

“Ah,” Tommy says, palms pushing down on his knees, “so you’re the brains, then?”

You mirror him, accepting Joel’s request. As though you had any choice in the first place. Standing beside the younger Miller, you mutter, “Sure. Let’s go with that.”

He holds a hand out to usher you ahead, following you upstairs. Past the tousle-haired boy in grayscale, past the German shepherd, past the Christmas Day portrait. Wandering like you know the house inside out, like you might’ve picked the exact coordinates of each nail the picture frames hang on yourself.

Like the photographs pinned to the walls aren’t still as alien to you as they’d been that day you first set foot in here, the dress Joel would come to tear from your body slung over your arm.

You twist the gold handle and unveil a homely little room, painted by you and Joel just last week. The soft blue drying into his knuckles, random splatters on your palms and your jeans. The giggles drawn from your chest; the thief either the chemicals from the paint, or the man rolling it over the walls – and you’ve a pretty good idea of which.

Tommy sniffs roughly, nodding. Taps the toe of his boot against one of the two bulky boxes leant against the wall, a crib printed on one and a rocking chair on the other. His tipsy head bob bob bobbing. “Alright. ‘s nice, ain’t it?”

You settle against the window, the glass cold at your back. “Real nice, yeah. Be even better once it’s done.”

“What’s yours look like?”

“Mine?”

“Nursery at your place. Your one pink, ‘case it’s a girl?”

You snort. “Mine is a little greener. More…I guess it’s duck egg. Had some leftover paint.”

He clicks his fingers and points to you. “See what you did there. Duck egg. Duckie.”

“Hm. Wish I were that poetic. I just like the color.”

Tommy stuffs his hands in his pockets, wanders around the bare room. The faint lingering of whiskey putting up its best fight against the clean bite of fresh paint, the sweet scent shaking from him when he nods some more at the blank walls and naked windows. He clicks his teeth and asks, “How you holdin’ up, anyways?”

“How am I holding up?”

“Yep. With, uh…” he nods to the door, eyes wide, “…Vanessa,” he whispers. Louder than he must think – probably echoed, if anything, by the palm he curves around his mouth.

You cross your arms protectively, shoulders bunching. “She’s fine,” you say, voice deliberately low. You both ignore the crack in it when you add, “I like her. She’s – she’s taken this all like a champ.”

Tommy leans on the window ledge, a rugged hand you reckon you’d know was a Miller’s just by looking at it. Same rough-cut quality as Joel’s, like they’re torn from the same sheet of sandpaper. He props the other on his hip. “But, boy – it’s gotta be complicated, right?”

“I guess. But she’s real sweet about it. And Joel’s been great, too.” You sniff, the memory of your kiss flashing behind your eyes. The steady drum of Duck’s heartbeat, the gleam in Joel’s eye when he looked down at you. The guilt seeping from your skin like beads of sweat, prickling along your spine and fizzling against the cold windowpane.

Tommy blinks at you, liquor-glazed eyes scanning. His shoulders jerk, a loud huh propelling from his throat. When your head cocks in confusion, startled from your daydream, he spills. “He ‘n I had a mighty long talk when he told me.”

You feel yourself leaning in, magnetized to him – body hunched as though you’re gossiping in the corner of a house party. Inhaling secrets with the tinge of alcohol on Tommy’s breath. “Oh, yeah?”

Tommy hums. “Just wanted to make sure he’d thought it all through. Not you – I always knew he’d take care a’ you and Duck. But…involving Vanessa,” he lowers his voice again, glancing over to the warm light spilling in from the hallway, “I just wanted him to be sure.”

Your blood begins to warm, heat flooding through your body as you step closer, murmuring, “What’d he say?”

He flicks his head, seeming to toss his initial response to the wind. “You know Joel. He is his own man.”

Your face screws, head jerking back. “What’s that mean? He is his own man?”

A voice from the doorway interrupts. A shadow swimming in the golden light. “Who is?”

Tommy steps away from you, loosening his arms as his big brother drifts into the shadowy room. Dusting the conversation under the rug. The smell of whiskey backs off. “Speak of the devil. Nice paint job, Joel. Missed a couple spots, but – I’ll let you off.”

“Uhuh.” Joel’s eyes thin, his body slanted against the wall. Arms crossed, bottle of beer hanging from his fingers.

Tommy swaggers forward when Joel holds the bottle out, taking it with a wary glance at the tall figure. A dog meandering back to his owner, tail between his legs and ears flat. It takes his gritty voice to jolt you back to the room, splintering your gaze from Joel’s toned arms and huge chest. “Looks real good, you two. ‘s one lucky kid.”

Joel’s jaw lifts, his eyes landing on you. Dogs are terrible liars. “He talkin’ your ear off?”

You smile; recognizing the softer Joel you’ve grown used to over the last three months replacing the stern, cold version you once knew so well. “Only a little.”

“Tommy,” he says then, “Maria needs you for somethin’.”

The denim-donned Miller nods knowingly and heads out of the room, thud of his boots receding downstairs.

“Maria okay?” you ask, making space for Joel as he settles beside you.

He shrugs. “Only said that to get him outta your hair.”

You frown. “You sent me up here with him in the first place.”

“So I could come up ‘n check on you. Know this must be a lot – the two of them, tonight.”

“I’m fine. Promise. I’m a big girl.”

You both sigh, turning to look out at the dark street. Your arms cross, sitting somewhere above the tiny slope of your bump – a new development you’re still getting used to. Your stomach feels tighter, a little more solid than usual when you touch it. A little more…real. There’s someone in there, right? Like, actually there. They’re changing the way you look, the way you feel.

“This is it, right?” you say, staring at the white lanterns illuminating Alice Brown’s rose bushes. “This is the year.”

“The year,” Joel agrees.

“Mhm. Become a mom. Become a dad.”

He purses his lips. “Yeah, I don’t know. I’ve had bigger years, kid.”

“Let’s hear it, old man. Let’s hear about your biggest year. God knows you’ve had plenty to choose from.”

He sucks a deep breath in, eyes tracing the silhouette of the houses across the street as he thinks. “Senior year, nineteen ninety-three. Asked Stacy Moore as my date to the prom ‘n she said yes. I was so nervous that I forgot my bow tie. Was a pretty good year.”

You hum, agreeing, and then, “I see your ninety-three, and I raise you: two thousand and one. There was this bike I wanted for-fucking-ever; it had, like, little beads on the spokes – would make this ratatatat sound whenever it moved. Tassels hanging from the handlebars, all iridescent. I begged my mom the entire year for it, and on Christmas morning I woke up, and…” You lift your hands, air puffing from between your lips. “Santa Claus delivered that year, dude.”

“Well,” Joel clicks his teeth, shell hardening only a little, “thanks for making me feel old as hell.”

“You’re welcome.” You beam back at him, breaking into a laugh when he does.

The two of you stand a little distance apart, denying yourselves the innocent brushing of shoulder against shoulder, the nudging of elbows and swaying of hips. Admiring the empty sky and emptier street, bathing between the cold moonlight of outside and the warm lamplight in.

And from somewhere deep in your belly, somewhere tucked behind your ribs, beneath your slow-growing womb: an urge to ask about her. To bring her up. To tend to the curiosity that Tommy poked a clumsy, drunken finger straight into, tearing it apart at the seams.

Like pressing on a new bruise, satiating the hungry need to know where you were hurt, how you were hurt, when you were hurt. A bent fingertip, pushing heavily into a sensitive splatter of dark purple; the burst blood vessels hissing in response, whispering, You don’t know, and you don’t want to know.

But you defy them. You do want to know. Want to satisfy the disturbed thrill you felt, leaning into Joel’s brother. Hands turning over one another, wet bottom lip trembling as he rounded the corner on some sort of…what was it, a secret? Some sort of truth, a long-buried revelation about the other woman. She’s a witch, have you spotted her crooked nose? She’s plotting something, I swear. She’s up to no good.

Your eyes lift again, focusing back on the dull color of the outside world. The bland canvas of reality. She’s not a witch, nor some genius mastermind. She’s a boring, relatively normal woman. Kind, thoughtful. Naïve and a little too eager to please; too willing to forgive a situation which warrants no such kindness or empathy.

She’s just…fine. Lukewarm. And you’ve no idea why that pisses you off so much.

Which, incidentally, makes the bruise sting all the more.

“Maria, Maria,” Tommy’s voice claws its way upstairs, “turn it on, turn it – Joel? Joel! It’s midnight, Joel, you two better come on down, now! Have we missed it –? Have we –?”

The sound of cheering slowly bubbles to life behind his drawl as the TV volume picks up, the tittering of Maria and Vanessa chiming in.

“…five, four, three, two, one…Happy New Year!”

Joel’s looking over his shoulder, waiting for footsteps or voices or a girlfriend who never shows. And he ignores his brother, for he is his own man, and turns to you instead. Bracing himself on the ledge, he blinks down with a plain grin on his lips. “Happy New Year, Mom,” he whispers.

You return his smile, taking his hand when he reaches out to you. “Happy New Year, Dad,” you reply, squeezing his palm.

He pulls you in for a hug, kissing your cheek briskly as you hook your arms over his shoulders. His beard scratches your cheek, grazes the curve of your shoulder, and you don’t mind. Your small, swollen belly presses against his; the tiny curve safe in the midst of your embrace.

Outside, the sky crackles to life with the distant spatter of fireworks, color shattering across the black canvas – red, blue, green and gold, dissolving as quickly as they explode into the now-January night. A burst of purple light washes between the two of you, and you turn your head on Joel’s shoulder to watch as the sparks rain over your neighbors’ roofs.

“I should get goin’,” you whisper, feeling his heartbeat a little too strongly against your own. Becoming suddenly aware of the weight of your frames locked together.

“Glad you came,” he says as he leans away. “I know this ain’t…I know we’re all tryin’, but you’re tryin’ the most, and I appreciate it. I hope you know that.”

“I know it,” you tell him, rolling your eyes. “Now, go. Go kiss your girlfriend.”

He chuckles, making for the door. “You want me to walk you home?”

Your eyes close serenely, the image of him doused in flickers of gold burning behind your eyelids. “I’ll survive the walk across the hedgerow, Miller.”

Joel nods once and leaves, plodding downstairs to be greeted by his open-armed girlfriend, a peck between them, arms crossed behind his neck. The lyrics of Auld Lang Syne slurred against his lips.

And you think – You know what? If it’ll rip you apart from her, if it’ll keep her bright red lips and her shining curtain of hair away from you, if it’ll stop her sucking in your air and your smell and your attention for thirty fucking seconds –

Then, yeah. Walk me home. Stay for a drink. Sleep in the goddamn guestroom.

Walk me home.

You slip out of the front door when the two couples are in the kitchen, missing Joel’s calling your name – or perhaps just ignoring it altogether.

“Spread the love at St. David’s this Valentine’s Day…”

Joel slows alongside a wall of cerise hearts, each one fluttering like wings whenever the hospital doors slide open and the breeze sneaks inside. Slips scrawled with names and messages: Love you M! and J + A, crude drawings of stick figures holding hands. Your lips curl into a smirk, watching him flick through each one as you palm your round stomach.

You just saw Duck for the second time. The last time, Freya was kind enough to mention, before they’re tearing you in two. Sorry, she mouthed when your expression dropped, and went back to twisting the probe over your stomach. Silently.

You’re getting better at it, you think. Playing Mom. Like some little game of make-believe, which is only real for as long as you’re looking it square in the eye – attending doctor’s appointments, updating the neighbors on your newest list of symptoms en route to your mailbox.

A little surer on your feet, now that you’ve found a balance to it: taking it as seriously as it warrants, a dry little pill stuck on the cliff of your throat, and making it easier to swallow with humor like water, a huge gulp anytime the fear claws its way up your spine.

And no more panic, since at least before Christmas. Only a little flustered this afternoon when Freya asked if you wanted to know the sex.

It felt too big a thing to hear, too real. You’re only just getting used to the backache and the bleeding gums. (And why didn’t you know that your gums would bleed? Isn’t that something they should fucking warn you about? Congrats, you’re pregnant: prepare for blood seeping from your jaw.)

No. No, thanks. Your head shot around to Joel. No, right?

He shrugged. Makes no difference to me.

Are you sure?

I’m sure, kid. Promise.

‘cause we can find out. I mean – if you want to.

He rocked forward on the balls of his feet, tapping you amiably on the shoulder. I don’t. You’re good.

You don’t?

No, I – He sighed, a hand dragging through his hair. If you want to, I want to. If you don’t, I don’t. Alright?

Freya bit back a laugh, the closed fist over her lips doing little to hide it. You guys should write a book on co-parenting.

But then she left the room again, closed the door on that same old little bubble – the three of you perched on the bed, you and Joel blinking up at the grains of your child onscreen – and you cried. Again. More.

Everything clearer, everything even more human than before: the globe of their skull, the tiny slope of their nose. All glowing in the dark waves of your womb, twinkling like the most beautiful constellation you could ever come across. Their ankles were crossed, feet forming a tiny heart shape in the top corner of the sonogram. Your hand lifted to point it out to Joel, and before the words found voice, you choked and broke down again.

He held you, lips to your hair, body solid as a rock as you melted into him in waves of salty tears. Smiled that honey-glazed smile and said he was so proud of you, said, look what your body’s doin’, darlin’, look what you’re growin’ – which only made you weep more.

And you pretended not to wait for it – for the moment when you might tilt your head up and your lips might line with his, and he might close the achy space between you again, might shush your cries by stealing the air from your lungs and the beat from your heart.

But he didn’t.

Which is fine.

Right?

“Somethin’ on your mind, kid?” he asks now, eyes still glued to the sea of hearts.

Your stare snaps from him instantly, unaware it was even held there. You tug on the hem of your sweater and pull the sleeves over your hands, mumbling, “Fine, I’m – I’m just…Come on, man. I’m hungry. I didn’t eat lunch today.”

“’n whose fault is that?”

You glower at him. “How considerate,” you seethe, “Vanessa’s a fucking lucky woman, you know that?”

He ignores you, a dumb smile on his face. The usual. “Let’s leave one for ‘em.”

A hot temper begins to boil below the surface of your skin, squeezing between your teeth in a fist-swinging breath. Also the usual these days, apparently. “For who?”

“Duckie. Somethin’ to mark the second scan. Last time we see them, before –”

Your hand flies up, eyes closing with a wince. Shut the fuck up. “Enough. I know.”

Joel hms, still smiling to himself. His beard has grown out a little: thicker, darker, gray sewn through like little whip stitches lining his jaw. He fishes a heart shape from the tub along with a pen, which he twirls annoyingly around his fingers as he thinks.

You sink back against the clinical white wall, an offensively bright color, holding your cheeks up in something of a smile when a nurse wanders past, nodding to both of you. Your face drops back to a scowl as soon as she’s over Joel’s shoulder, and your eyes meet his again – his brows raised, expectant.

“What?” you ask, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

He holds the slip up. “What we gonna write?”

And whatever charm the moment may have held, withers instantly. You throw your arms up petulantly. “You wanted to do it! Pick something. See you soon, or something, I don’t fucking know.”

“I don’t fucking know,” Joel muses, creases by his eyes when he smirks. “Poignant.”

“That’s what you should write,” you step closer, shoving your shoulder into his as you study the trembling hearts on the board, “if you can spell poignant, write that.”

“Hilarious,” he mutters, bending to scribble onto the shape, shielding his work from your view when you hang around his shoulder to pry. Cupping over the message until he’s straightening up, tossing the pen back to the desk, stealing a pin from the tub.

“Let me read,” you protest, tugging on his flannel sleeve.

“I will,” he says, shaking you off. “Patience, darlin’.”

Joel turns to the wall and pins the heart higher than the rest, in a spot clear of its own on the corkboard – thick arms stretching higher higher higher and pulling your gaze with them. As he steps back, he takes you gently by the waist and positions you in front of his body, your shoulders brushing against his chest. Your ribs hold your heart back from hammering into his.

You push up onto your tiptoes and squint at the note, which quivers when the hospital doors pull open again. “Mom and…Mom and Dad f…You fucking…”

Joel dodges your batting arm, snickering with you as he turns to make for the exit. “You don’t like it?” he tosses over his shoulder.

The heart stares down at you, black ink carved into the paper, watching as you turn and hurry after him, giggling. “Mom and Dad fuckin love you? So much for my potty mouth. And the –” another wheezing laugh you’d otherwise be ashamed to let him hear, “– the drawing? It looks – it looks more like a giraffe than a duck. Or, like, you know those long-necked dinosaurs?”

Joel’s head tips back, his own laughter caught up by the breeze when you wander outside, slipping your wrist around the crook of his elbow. Something infectious about it, something which stirs your own laughter until you’re walking arm in arm to the truck with a man who, six months ago, you’d barely look at twice over the fence.

The blind rage bubbling from your empty stomach seems to dissipate, dwindled to nothing in the face of that same man – his swollen cheeks and crows-feet eyes. And you say, “You’re disgustingly sentimental, you know that? Like, sickening.”

And Joel smirks, the way he always fucking does, and says, “You love it. Can’t lie to me.”

“I love it,” you concede, nudging into him as he opens the door for you.

The drive home is quiet, but not uncomfortable. There’s another thing you’re getting good at: being around Joel without need for snide remarks, without feeling your tongue curl under the weight of some snappy quip, loaded and aimed. Being around him and talking about Duck, asking how Tommy and Maria are. Forcing your teeth and tongue to carve out words which ask how Vanessa is, what she’s up to, when he’s seeing her next.

None of this is ideal, that’s for sure. Joel’s girlfriend aside, you’ve spent the last five months cohabiting your body with a stranger who lives most peacefully in the eye of a raging tornado of hormones – flitting between fits of giggles and pulsating joy in your veins, to waves of tears and an anger so hot beneath your skin that you wonder if your emotions might dry up completely by the time this is all through.

It's tough. It’s scary. And some nights you lie in bed, alone, wet eyes fixed on nothing, waiting for someone to burst into the room and announce that it’s all a prank. Just a silly joke. You and Joel can go back to tossing newspapers and casting glowers.

But for now, sat in the passenger seat of his truck – the seatbelt warped around the curve of your belly, the Eagles lilting softly from the radio – it feels like you’re making a home out of that tornado, too. Feeling the swirling walls of wind toss your hair like the breeze through the truck window; the chilled caress of the evening around your outstretched arm, soaring down the highway.

Yeah, you think. I can make something outta this.

“You know what I’m craving?”

Joel’s watching the light, waiting for green. “What’s that?”

“A fucking bagel. Cream cheese, pastrami,” you groan.

He snorts, cringing when he adds, “Pickles?”

A moan tears from the base of your throat, head lolling against your seat. “I could orgasm just thinking about it.”

The light turns, and Joel swings right. “I’d rather you didn’t,” he mutters, turning the wheel with one palm. “I got bagels back at the house, if you want one.”

You stare at him, jaw loose, saliva pooling behind your bottom lip. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He smiles, shaking his head. “Let me make you one, ‘fore you go home. Big day, ‘n all.”

And you hate it – hate the way your cheeks fill with a genuine happiness, something swollen and achy, impossible to ignore when it lifts your eyes and hurts your teeth. Appreciation, or admiration, perhaps, that you figure you’ll only ever have for him. You don’t know what the fuck to call it.

So you sum it up into three words. “That’d be nice,” you whisper, and Joel places his hand over your knee, shaking it lightly as he drives on.

It stays there, until he’s pulling into his driveway.

He pushes the front door open and steps back, an arm extended to let you by first. An after you, ma’am, between his lips. And you turn to make some mocking joke, the beginnings of some comment about how gentlemanly he is, when you’re socked square on the nose by a heavy-fisted, bitter scent.

“Oh, fuck,” you gasp, stumbling backwards across the threshold and onto the porch again. Your throat constricting around nothing, your tongue twisting, your stomach lurching.

Joel catches you just in time to stop you from falling on your ass. “The hell’s the m–? Oh.”

“Hi!” Vanessa calls from the kitchen, leaning around the doorframe to wave you both in. “Almost ready! Take a seat.”

“V–? Hey, sweetheart?” Joel calls back, one hand around your wrist and the other between your shoulders. “What – what’s cookin’?”

She pauses, glancing back at the stove. Pulls the dish towel between her hands taut. “I…I made pasta.”

“Yeah, what kind, sweet?”

“…Bolognese.”

He can’t cover his own sigh quick enough. Thick with something which feels like anger. “Shit,” he turns back to you, “I am so sorry.”

You pull in a deep, unsteady breath, your lungs struggling to separate night air from tomato juice. A weight rolling at the bottom of your stomach, your entire body beginning to tremble with it. “I feel like I’m gonna – Joel, I’m gonna –”

“Breathe,” he whispers, voice urgent, palm slipping to cup your jaw. “Just breathe for me.”

But your throat’s tightening, swallowing hard around gags which come stronger and quicker the more you try to fight them down. “I can still fucking smell it –”

Her shadow blocks the stretch of light from the house. A nervous little thing, a timid creature’s shadow stretched wide across the porch floor. “Is…everything okay?”

“It’s – it’s fine,” Joel sighs again, torn between comforting you and letting Vanessa down gently, “it’s just – tomato is one of her…her aversions.” He’s unable to pull his eyes from you, privately asking, “Are you okay?” when Vanessa turns back to the kitchen.

“I didn’t – I didn’t know,” she mumbles, thumbnail between her teeth. “I am so sorry.”

Suddenly, your will not to throw up is overpowered by your will to tell her, “It’s fine,” sucking in a deep, sickly breath before adding, “I’m just gonna – I should go.”

“I don’t want you to go,” Joel says, his teeth guarding the words from his girlfriend.

“I’m gonna clean up in here,” Vanessa points over her shoulder, and you think she must’ve heard him, “get outta your hair. I’m so sorry, again. I would’ve never…”

Joel lets go of you as you stagger backwards, the cold air tearing down your throat to meet the burning acid tickling up your esophagus. “Please don’t apologize,” you lift a weak hand, “how could you have known? I’ll –” another sharp gasp, “– I’ll see you guys around.”

He must say your name, must try once more to pull you back to his side, but the blood’s rushing through your ears, and your heart’s pounding at the back of your tongue, and your stomach’s notching its way up your spine. You make it to your kitchen sink just in time.

He keeps you waiting all of one hour before he’s calling you. Your arm reaches over to your nightstand, fumbling in the dark for your heavy phone, the screen cold against your cheek.

“Mhm?”

“Are you okay?”

Your lungs pull a deep, slow breath. The acid painted across your throat tickles as the air passes by it, an uncomfortable, scratchy feeling.“Mhm.”

“That a lie?”

“Only a little. Is Vanessa okay?”

He takes a second to answer. Lets go of whatever he was going to say with a sigh, replacing it with, “She just left.”

“Is she mad at us?”

Another second. “Just me. Not you.”

You massage the slope below your breasts, the ache in your esophagus throbbing when you move. “Why just you?”

Ruffling, like he’s settling back into his couch. Sinking into the cushion, his body as heavy as yours feels on your mattress. “I should’ve told her you didn’t like tomatoes. ‘cause now I’m a goddamn mind reader. I mean, why the hell wouldn’t my girlfriend be in my house cookin’ a damn pasta dish while I’m out, y’know? Jesus Christ.”

“Joel,” you turn slowly onto your back, bravely waiting for the waves of nausea still lapping around your stomach to turn with you, “it was a nice thing, what she did. She didn’t mean to…She probably thought she was helping.”

“Naw, I know,” he replies, the sharp bite of his words softening again, shrinking under yours. “I don’t care about her and her helping, though, darlin’, I care about y –” He barely catches it in time. “I care about you carrying my child, and I care about making sure you don’t spend your nights fuckin’…throwing up tomato sauce.”

You gulp, neck convulsing. The backwash of bile swallowed back. Your chest floods with a heat of quick panic. “Can we…maybe…not use the word? I just –”

“Sorry, baby. Sorry. This is just – it’s a lot easier if she would just…”

Your eyes close over, a salty sting sweeping behind them. If she would just lay off. Back off. Fuck off. “…but she won’t, Joel. She loves you. ‘n you…”

The words drift off, taken by the tide, swept off into silence. And neither of you bother with trying to retrieve them – you just watch, stood safe on the shoreline, as they fold under the waves of something too big for either of you to acknowledge. Too dark, too dangerous.

So, you say, “I get it,” instead; say, “I get why you’re mad. Just – let’s forget about it, okay? Sorry for…ruining dinner.”

Joel scoffs, that old, pissed-off Joel scoff. You can see his deadened expression on the back of your eyelids. You may as well have just thrown his newspaper to the end of the earth. “You know damn well that you didn’t ruin anything. How you feelin’?”

“Tired. Throat kinda hurts.”

“Still feel like that pastrami bagel?”

“Not really. Sorry. Appetite’s gone.”

“How about a water?”

“I got some here. Thanks.”

“Okay,” Joel sniffs, “how about: you take the hint and let me come over there to see you?”

You giggle, hand over your eyes to mask your expression from the dark. “I hate you. Yeah, come over. Door’s unlocked.”

Date night – six month anniversary or whatever. Call me if you need anything.

And I mean anything. OK?

Your thumbs hover over the two gray messages, an awkward jig as your brain scrambles to offer words back. Where are you guys going? Too interested. Too weird. OK, what if I’m bored? Delete delete delete. Trying too hard. Sure, have a good n–

The ellipsis pops up and you freeze. A stupidly polite swish delivers Joel’s third text.

Boredom counts as anything, by the way.

And the fucker steals another smile from you. You notice it when you look up, clocking yourself in the mirror. Accompanied by a warmth which drips down your spine, swirls around your tummy; a fluttering you’re not sure is Duckie or something else.

Have a good night, Dad, you type back, tossing the phone to the end of your bed when you hit send. Swiping for a pillow, holding it firm to your face. Pressing so deep into the plush that even the linen won’t be able to see your grin.

Joel told you about this six-month anniversary last week. He wasn’t too thrilled about it then, either. Dinner to celebrate six months? A year, fair enough. But six months?

You swallowed your pride, swallowed the same throttling ecstasy which seeped through your pores on New Year’s Eve, on that February evening she cooked– never mind; a desperate desire to tear apart the very notion of Vanessa and her cutesy little date nights and candlelit dinners. I think it’s a fun idea, you said. Y’all should do it.

And Joel listened. Because he always fucking listens to you, these days. Listens when you tell him that you like the watermelon Sour Patch Kids best, and picks them up anytime he’s at the store. Listens to you when you tell him he should move the crib away from the window, in case the streetlights shine on Duck while they sleep.

Listens when you ramble about how sore your feet are, how heavy your belly feels, how there’s a clammy heat lingering under your skin at all times, bubbling and bubbling and never rising to anything more than steam collecting on the underside of your flesh.

Listens when you tell him to go spend time with his girlfriend. And neither of you pay attention to the jealous shadow behind your words, the hesitant quiver behind his.

He replies almost instantly, the ping like a gunshot at the beginning of a race. Pillow slammed into the mattress, body lunging forward.

You too, Mom. Don’t have too much fun without me.

You lock the phone and slide it back under your covers, smiling dumbly.

There’s still a small part of you waiting for the big reveal: none of this is really happening. A dream, maybe, something you’ll wake from with a tiny throbbing headache, a dry mouth and a new reason to avoid your neighbor at all costs.

But it seems that, each time that thought crosses your mind, you’re quicker and quicker to quash it. Realizing each time that what lies ahead – Joel, your baby, this future version of yourself that you’re yet to meet, still just a little out of reach – fills you with more excitement and wonder, than it does fear.

Mom.

It’s not something you ever imagined for yourself. Not someone you ever thought you’d be. And yet, each time you say it out loud, each time you look in the mirror and picture a baby in the crook of your arm, a toddler perched on your hip, a kid stood by your side, tugging on the hem of your shirt – she feels a little closer. A little clearer. She just has to look over her shoulder, notice you waiting. I’m right here, she says. Come find me.

Mom. Mom and Dad.

You imagine Joel right now, sat in some ritzy restaurant with jazz music and stained-glass lamps on every table, ordering Vanessa some glorified lentil soup and slapping his card over the bill before the waiter has a chance to reveal the damage to him. Your lips twist at the thought – her jewels and her long hair and her sweet little smile laced with a smug possession.

And then you slap your own wrists, hissing to yourself to shut the fuck up.

“She’s nice,” you argue out loud, thin air holding no debate. “She’s kind, and I like her. She’s good for him.”

And then the air replies. Good for him, it swirls, but you could do it better.

Your arm lifts, lingering for a beat before batting the thought away.

Three weeks. Three fucking weeks, between pushing yourself out of his embrace in bed, and pulling yourself back into it – armed with a pregnancy test and a chest full of fear. Three weeks of dodging him, of your cheeks bubbling with embarrassment and regret anytime you thought of it; of hoping to God that Alice or Diane or Steve and Kris across the street wouldn’t clairvoyantly know what had transpired that night and corner you on your own front lawn.

A one-night stand. That’s all it was. Two lonely bodies, excitement enough to convince you both that it was a good idea; a fitted suit and a backless dress crumpled together on the floor. Liquid courage lacing it all together.

Three weeks, then, of reminding yourself how it felt: how amazing you were together. Your hand between your legs and Joel’s name between your teeth.

Fuck. If only he knew. Goodforhimgoodforhim she’s so good for him but I’m better.

You did it better. You know you did. The sun was cresting the horizon by the time the two of you stopped. You hauled yourselves down to breakfast and sat at least three people apart, made forced conversation with Maria about the DJ stumbling off with one of her cousins, while the ghostly ache of Joel’s body churned somewhere deep inside you.

It travels through your veins the way that everything does right now: urgent and unforgiving. A need to be dealt with, immediately. Coursing through your body, an arrowhead pointing somewhere you know it shouldn’t. But your hands lift anyway – following it, loosening the waist of your sweatpants and skimming beneath your underwear.

Your body lights at the first touch. The first dip of your middle finger against the plush over your clit. Knees bend, thighs part. You push your underwear down your hips, settling your bottoms loose on your legs. You’re already wet. You’re already there.

Good fucking girl. She’s good but I’m better, right? Take it, baby. Does she take it like I take it? Take it. Can she take you like I did?

Quicker and quicker and quicker, your fingers heavy on your clit. The other hand sifting between your folds, dipping to collect a glimmer of wet. Yeah. Just like that. Do you fuck her like you fucked me? You feel what you do to me? Fuck no, you don’t. You’ve never fucked anyone like you fucked me.

Head back, eyes fluttering closed, lips parting to breathe answers to a man who isn’t here. To a man who, as he dips sourdough into an overpriced soup, sure as hell isn’t thinking about that time he fucked you so good he got you fucking pregnant.

Well. Maybe he is. You are, right?

Voice without body, drawl etched in your memory. Think she can take it all? You hum in amusement, waiting for him to answer his own question. Yeah, she can.

Attagirl. Your legs spread further, knee lifting as you insert two slick-coated fingers. His hands are on your thighs, following the dip of your hips, holding your waist as you guide him back inside. Attagirl. That’s my – Fuck, Joel, you’re so b– That’s my fuckin’ girl. Take it. Touch it. His thumb on your clit – his, not yours. You like that? Yeah, that’s nice, ain’t it?

The flesh of your breasts filling his palms, squeezing and nipping and rolling between. The warmth leaking between your legs: his and yours and fuck, he’s so deep and he’s filling you again and he’s groaning as more dribbles from where he splits your body around his own, holding you still until he’s done. Until he’s empty.

“Joel,” you whine, a third finger pushing in.

Between your hips. Headboard hammering against the wall. The sun hanging loose at the bottom of the sky. Gonna make me come again, baby. Do it. Do something irreversible. Change me forever. Fuck me fuck me fill me and then pull out, push back in with the wet squelch of your come mixing with mine and changing me forever. Making me brand new. Making me yours.

Another moan. Louder. Sharper.

Yours yours yours. All mine? All yours. We’re good at this. I know we are. Who fucks you like this? No one – No one – just you – just me. It’s so big, fuck, but I can take it. Been thinkin’ about this all fuckin’ day, baby. All I do is think about you. All I fucking do – You gonna come for me? – is think about you.

Know you need it. Let ‘em hear you, downstairs.

Fuck, I’m thinking about you. Come home. I need you to come home, need you to –

Fuck me, Joel, I’m –

Good girl.

– fuck me.

Atta fuckin’ girl.

She’s good but I do it so much better.

We’re good at this. ‘s do it again.

She’s not as good as me.

Again? Again.

She’s not as good. She’s no fucking good.

Your walls clamp around your fist, entire body shuddering to a stop. Breath held by something shaped like the hook of his accent, two fingers either side of your throat. The same smirk on his lips that convinced you in the first place. Fuck, baby, fuck me.

“Joel,” you cry out, the sound ripping between your vocal cords, punching against the ceiling and reverberating in your ears. Your body convulses on the mattress, back arching and slackening again. “Fuck, I’m – oh, my –”

Just feel it, baby. Feel me. You got it.

Let go.

Your lungs lurch open again, breath flooding in like waves spilling over the gunwale and rushing down to pool at your feet. A lulling rock to your movements, chest rising and falling like the steady tide. Soothing, coming down. Foam and salt carrying the flotsam away, the jagged glass of his name disappearing to sea again.

And then he’s gone.

And you’re just alone in your bedroom.

Last you checked your phone, now face-down on the carpet at your hip, it was eight p.m. Streetlights on, the sky painted by the pale dregs of daytime.

Now, you lie in near-darkness, blinking up at the ceiling. Hand sifting through a bag of glow-in-the-dark stars, comparing the different sizes, considering where to stick them, and then tossing them back in frustration.

Your front door clicks open, a pause between the sound and his voice.

“Anyone home?” Joel calls, and you lift your wrist as though he can see it from the bottom of the fucking stairs.

“Up here,” you eventually announce, knuckles rubbing your tired eyes until Catherine wheels spatter across your eyelids.

His shadow splits the light from the hallway, the long rectangle crossing over your swollen belly. “The hell are you doin’?” he asks, wandering in.

You lift the bag. “Decorating. The hell are you doin’?”

He pulls your nursing pillow from its temporary home in the crib and tosses it down on the carpet, bending to lift your shoulders and slot it underneath. “Scooch,” he says, groaning as he lays back beside you. He smells like whiskey and cologne. All woody, pine and spice.

“You got a bad back,” you warn him. “You shouldn’t be all the way down here.”

“You’re seven months pregnant,” Joel clicks his teeth, “neither should you.”

“What if you get stuck ‘n can’t get back up?”

Offense pulls his brows together. “What if you do?”

You smile in response, feeling the heat of his shoulder against yours. Sucking the scent of him through your nose. The pair of you exchanging smirks and batting eyelashes, wrapped in the cool darkness of the room. It’s juvenile and intimate.

You’re trying not to think too much about it.

“I can’t fucking figure this out. I put two of the big stars over there,” you point to the far corner of the room, streetlight splintered by the shades on the ceiling, “but it looks stupid having two so close. So, then I thought,” moving your arm to the right, “a cluster of smaller ones, right over the crib. But I couldn’t move the damn thing to climb up, so…I’ve been down here ever since.”

Joel lifts his hand, stopping your train of thought. “Please do not climb on anything, bein’ that you are…with child.” And then, when your eyes roll to meet his, he grins, adding, “Nesting got you good, huh?”

“You should see my kitchen cupboards. Never been tidier.” Your expression dissolves, voice quietens – your most desperate plea since that morning you shook hands on his doorstep. Your broken wardrobes and his lonely wedding invite. “Will you help me?” you ask.

He thinks it over less than once, dragging his gaze from the twirling star in your fingers. A quick shake of his head, like it’s obvious. “’course I will. ‘s what I’m here for.” And then he yawns, lowering a hand absentmindedly to settle on the curve of your stomach; a gentle pat in greeting to Duck.

“How was dinner?”

“Good,” Joel lies.

“Vanessa okay?”

“Good,” again.

“Sorry.”

Joel’s eyes roll, fingers pausing. “Why do you always gotta be sorry for som’?”

You shrug when you realize it’s not a rhetorical question. He’s genuinely asking. “I don’t know. Just tryna be polite. I know you’d probably rather be at home right now, not…deciding where some plastic fuckin’ stars should go.”

“For my kid’s bedroom? For you?” He huffs something shaped like disapproval. “Do me a favor – stop with the sorrys, alright?”

“I’m not even done with the last fucking favor I said I’d do you.” Your eyes flit down to your bump.

He stares blankly. You know there’s a laugh gathering like hot air on a windowpane behind his eyes, threatening to shatter the glass.

“Fine,” you concede, “dickhead.”

“Better.”

You sigh, looking back down at the phosphorescent shape in your hands. Turning it over and over and over, matching the rhythm of his fingers tensing and then untensing on your belly. His fingers, matching the rhythm of your chest rising and falling with breath. The room quiet. The night’s eyes averted, even just for this moment.

“If it’s anything,” Joel says, “I think the stars look alright.”

Another stolen smile. Another defiant show of teeth. You place your hand on top of his: a thankful gesture, an invitation. Something in between.

Joel blinks back at you, his eyes flitting from yours to your lips. The dim light in the room swallowing the two of you whole, secluded in the upstairs of your home. And you think, Kiss me, kiss me kiss me kiss me, and you will the words over your tongue in a ragged breath – hoping that Joel might breathe them in and feel their sharp edges as they absorb into his bloodstream, each cell flipping like the star in your hand and whispering the same two words to him: Kiss her kiss her kiss her.

But right then –

There’s a burst of movement. Under your fingertips. A fluttering, like bubbles popping right below the surface of your skin.

Your eyes snap down at the same time Joel’s do; your fingers separating and hovering over your tummy.

“Did you – did you feel –?”

“Yeah. Did you?”

“Uhuh. Was that –?”

“I don’t know. Was it?”

He takes your hand, pressing it back against your stomach with his on top. Your knuckles safe in the canopy of his palm. Both staring into space as you hold your breath.

“They’re not…they’re not doin’ it, now…”

“Maybe it was just –”

“Wait! Did you feel that?”

A second burst on your womb, a tiny beat on the other side of your bump. A wide grin breaks across your cheeks, a disbelieving laugh escaping.

Joel laughs, too. “Is that – is that the first time they’ve ever –?”

“Yeah,” you sniff, tears prickling at the corners of your eyes, “that’s the first I’ve ever felt ‘em, anyways.”

“Wait,” Joel says, lifting his hand and holding a finger up. Just yours on your belly. “They doin’ it?”

Your head shakes.

When he lowers his hand, Duckie kicks again. The two of you lean in to one another, exchanging laughter. You lift your own hand, watching his expression as he waits patiently.

But then his head shakes, too. “Nothing. They’re only doin’ it when it’s both of us.”

“What the fuck?” you laugh, replacing your hand and waiting for the baby drum. “How can they even tell? What the f–?”

You shift your hands around the globe of your bump, pausing every so often to feel for Duck’s movements. A tiny fist punching, or a heel kicking, or an elbow shoving right above your navel in a way that’s bordering on painful, but numbed by the sheer thrill of it.

And for a while, it’s all you do: play tag with your unborn baby, giggling when they respond to your tapping fingers and cooing voices.

Joel sits up, leaning on his elbow to talk to his kid; runs two fingers across your shirt like a pair of legs scaling a cotton covered hill. And he laughs, and you laugh at his laugh, as if he’s a kid himself again – tearing apart gifts on his birthday, gasping and throwing his head back with glee at whatever he uncovers.

“It feel weird?” he asks, glancing up at you.

“So fucking weird,” you tell him.

“Does it hurt?”

“More…ticklish, if anything. Might get kinda annoying, if they start doing it when I’m tryna sleep, or somethin’…”

Joel lowers his jaw to your stomach, whispering, “You know what to do, Duckie. Make your daddy proud.”

You slap his shoulder, muttering, “Asshole.”

“Alright,” he says, splintered by a laugh. He pushes himself to his feet, swiping the bag of stars from your side. “Let’s get these up so you two can get some sleep.”

You groan as he pulls you upright, one last pat on your stomach, looking at you a second too long and a touch too meaningful. Too warm, too inviting.

It’s the calm before the storm, though you’re still stood motionless. Still trying to work out whether the tornado is moving away, or headed directly for you.

At five in the morning, Vanessa’s sister calls her.

“Heart attack,” Joel tells you a few hours later, the rustle of paper crinkling in your ear. The truck hums in the background. He speaks through a mouthful of sandwich. “Her dad always had a condition, but they thought they were managin’ it with medication,” another crinkle, and then, voice even more obscured, “but he got rushed to hospital durin’ the night, and…”

“Poor Vanessa,” you reply, nail drawing shapes on the curve of your bump in attempt to lull Duck into a more relaxed state than the sharp kicks they’re throwing at your ribs. Now big and strong enough to do considerable damage, your voice falters each time they swing. “Is she – son of a bitch – is she okay?”

“Shaken up,” he says, turn signal ticking over his voice. “She’ll be alright. She’s pragmatic like that. Problem is – they’re in Houston. Her whole family. So I guess that’s where the funeral’s gonna be.”

You swing your legs off the couch, heaving your awkward, nine-months-pregnant body to your feet – the irritating scratch of hunger suddenly gnawing at your stomach. “Yeah?” you say, waddling through to the kitchen. “So?”

“So,” Joel takes another bite of sandwich, “she has to – I mean, we have to…go. To Houston.”

“We?” You slot the phone between your cheek and shoulder as you fish out a couple slices of bread.

“Me ‘n Vanessa.”

“Uhuh,” you carve a knife around a jar of peanut butter, “you gotta be there for her.”

Joel sounds a little defensive. “I know. And I am. I’m goin’ to be. ‘s just – I gotta be there for you, too. For – for Duck.”

Your stomach swirls, a fire catching which lights your chest in a trickle of flame.

“You are. You will be. Houston’s only, like, three hours away.”

He sighs.

The turn signal fills the silence between you, between Joel and an appropriate answer. Clicking like the sound of a tennis match, his head spinning between his grief-stricken girlfriend, and the third-trimester mother of his child.

“I’m here,” he says, and you hear the squeal of brakes out front. “Give me a sec.”

The door pushes open as you sink back into the couch, balancing the plate on the planet beneath your breasts. Joel crumples his sandwich paper in his fist and lowers his hand over the back of the couch, scrunching his fingers over your belly as he passes.

“Thought you hated that stuff,” he calls over his shoulder, disappearing into your kitchen.

“I had a craving,” you say, ripping the first bite from your sandwich. “You made me hungry.”

He returns a minute later with a glass of water which he sets down on the coffee table in front of you. He lifts your legs, letting them fall gently in his lap when he collapses into the opposite end of the couch, heels of his palms pressing against his eyes.

You tap his thigh with the ball of your foot and he turns to you, placing a hand over your ankles. A sticky paste of peanut butter and bread between your molars, you ask, “What’shup?”

Joel holds back a smirk at your chipmunk cheeks. “Just – just worried that you…you know, while I’m gone, is all.”

You scoff, gulping. “Come on. I am not gonna go into labor in the, what – two days? How long would you even be gone?”

He seems to wince at the thought, fingers sifting through his hair – a gray sweep sat casually over his left eyebrow; flicks following the curve of his ear towards the hinge of his jaw. “Less than that, if I can help it.”

“Joel.”

He turns to you, saying your name just as deflated in response.

“You have to go.”

He rolls his eyes, thumb and middle finger massaging his temples. Crosses his arms and huffs like a teenager. “Well, I ain’t happy about it.”

You snort, unable to hold it in as you take another bite. “I ‘on’t think Vanesha’sh too happy about it, either, to be honesh wih ya.”

Joel’s jaw slackens, a choked laugh bursting from the back of his throat. He lifts a cushion and swings it in your direction. “Heartless. That’s heartless, you know that? Jesus, baby.”

He leaves on Saturday morning.

You stand on your porch, watching him shove a suitcase into the backseat of his truck, squinting in the sunlight as he stalks across your front yard. Joining you in the shade, he leans into you, shoving you lightly.

“Quit it.” Your hand locking with his, steadying yourself. Something in the back of your mind begging him not to let go.

And as if he can hear the thought: “I can stay. You know I can stay, right?”

“I don’t want you to stay,” you tell him, sweeping the hair from his forehead. “We will be fine. We’ll stay up late, eat junk food and watch TV; I’ll do audio description for Duck…”

He scoffs, glancing across the street.

“…and then you’ll be back home, back to buggin’ the hell out of us. It’ll be Monday before you know it.”

Joel’s jaw tightens. “And what if…?”

“You really think that’s gonna happen? You think your kid’s that much of an asshole?”

He doesn’t miss a beat. “Yeah,” he shrugs, tongue in his cheek, “they’re half you.”

“Alright,” you click your teeth, turning away from the simper on his lips, “why don’t you just fuck off to Houston now, asshole?”

“I’ll fuck off, that’s what I’ll do.”

“Uhuh. Here’s hoping you don’t break down, or get a flat, or get struck by lightning, or anything.”

“You’re so funny,” he whispers, leaning closer.

“Hm. Now go.”

His jaw turns, beard grazing your skin. And then his lips; soft and warm, damp when he kisses your cheek. A moment too long. And he doesn’t pull away, doesn’t lean back the way you both know he should. No, he lingers – his lips by your ear, eyes flitting up to the street to make sure nobody sees.

“Joel –”

“I know.”

“We shouldn’t –”

“I know.”

But your arm is hooking around his neck, asking him to do it anyway, and his lips are lowering to yours, submitting to your request, and what’s supposed to be a goodbye kiss lasts at least a few seconds too long for it to mean anything less than a don’t go kiss.

You pull away when you feel the wet dab of his tongue against yours, realizing with an ice-cold shock where you are, and who he is, and what’s happening. Realizing how fucking stupid it’d be for both of you, how catastrophic and terrible the outcome.

A one-night stand.

A one-night stand.

A one-night –

He leans his forehead against yours, nose nuzzling your cheek. “I’ll call you when we get there.”

Your arm loosens, letting him go.

Just – letting him go.

Saturday Night Live ends just after midnight.

You arch your back into the couch, your swollen belly pushing forward. It’s an effort to get to your feet, what with the steady ache in your back all day, the weight on your front, and the fucking human being smushed into every vital organ inside you.

A deep breath feels like it inflates your lungs only halfway, Duck using the bottom half as a fucking ass cushion, and scaling the stairs takes another ten minutes – by the end of which, you’re slumped against the handrail, pausing before making off for your room.

You sink into the mattress, creasing the cool, smooth sheets. Duck stirs inside you, stretches out and throws a right hook against your bladder. You curse under your breath, hoisting yourself back to your feet.

“We gotta sleep, baby,” you hum, swaying back and forth with a hand under your belly. “Shh, ‘s okay. Take your fuckin’ fist outta my bladder, you little asshole.”

Whichever traits of yours and Joel’s have blended into the human cocktail growing in your uterus, you know one thing for certain: this kid has your stubbornness. The weight remains on your bladder, regardless of how much swaying, or pacing, or rubbing, or threatening you do.

You growl, wandering through the upper floor of your house in attempt to shift Duckie, or distract yourself, or, at the very least, tire the two of you out enough to fall asleep.

From the nursery door handle hangs a little wooden star, a tauntingly sleepy smile painted on it. You push the door open with two hesitant fingers, stepping into the still bedroom, the weak wash of streetlight meeting moonlight on the greenish walls.

You suck in a deep breath, floorboards squealing as you take your first step. Over the crib hangs a plastic mobile, soft plush shapes twirling slowly. The matching changing table slotted alongside it, a rocking chair over by the window.

You pad across a fluffy rug and lower yourself into the chair, tilting back and forth on your toes as you glance around one of the two rooms you and Joel have spent the most time in since that October morning bonded you forever. A baby duck ornament perched on a shelf above the dresser, its orange legs dangling. A multi-photo frame Joel’s mom bought you, both scans in the first two slots and the third empty, lying in wait.

Your breathing fragments, struggles, eyes slipping over to the baby clothes hanging in the closet. “You know, little Duckie,” you whisper, rubbing your bump and thinking back to Tommy’s words six months ago, “you are a pretty lucky kid.”

The hooded towel robe on the back of the door, the perfect size for a newborn. The framed prints sat atop the chest of drawers, waiting to be nailed to the wall: a rainbow, a frog, a starry sky.

“You got two houses. Two bedrooms, all to yourself. You got two parents who already love you more ‘n the whole world. And,” you gulp, “you got Vanessa. And she loves you, too.”

You glance down, watching the tiny pulse of movement when the baby stretches in your womb. Your hands scoop them up, as if holding them closer than they already are. As if already cradling them, forcing yourself to feel less alone.

Duck seems to quieten, to still; seems to consider what you’re avoiding. Reads between the lines, hears the words you’re not speaking.

Two of everything, you think, and I barely even had one.

The most evidence you have of being loved by anyone in your life is the house you live in. Four brick walls and three decades’ worth of belongings, more inheritance than memories. But they roll around like marbles – they echo against the walls when they hit them. There’s nothing binding them, no thread of love, or family, or anything real enough to hold it all together.

You’re the only living organ inside a skeleton’s cage. A lonely little heartbeat, making noise for no one to hear.

And that’s the way it has been, at least since you were eight. The absence of warmth and safety isn’t anything new to you – it left the second your parents did. The last scrunch of your mom’s nails on your head, the last kiss of her lips to your plump little cheeks. The passing over to your grandma, like you were cargo, like you were a box to be checked.

Maybe you found some distant flicker of heat in the way Joel looked at you, the day you told him you were pregnant. Maybe you saw the same glimmer of a flame that you used to see in your mom’s eye. The rosy smell of her perfume, the feel of her finger inside five of yours. Maybe, for the first time since you were a kid, you felt safe.

We’re gonna work it out, he said. I’m here. We’re in this together, alright? I am not running out on you.

Together. And yet, now, sat in your child’s nursery – a room built from scratch by Joel’s two hands and strung together by every beat of your heart – you’ve never felt more alone. The same two hands that are wrapped around Vanessa right now, consoling her, wiping her tears away, massaging her shoulders and sweeping her hair from her eyes.

And the same heartbeat which quickens now, fueled by an angry desire, an impulse scratching deep into your flesh to march all the damn way to Houston and tear the pair of them apart. Like he’s yours; like the way he touches you and looks at you and talks to you means anything more than his child growing inside you.

Like it’s you he’s touching and looking at and talking to, and not Duck. Like his attention won’t cease to shine on you, the second this little baby leaves your body.

And then, washing over the scorching hot sand of anger: a foam-lined wave of guilt. Of shame, for wishing for the breakdown of something that clearly makes the two of them happy. That makes Joel…happy.

He doesn’t owe you anything – he was never yours to begin with. Just one drunken night, a mistake until you noticed the two pale lines on the pregnancy test. And by that point, he was already hers again. You had missed him without even knowing it.

You sigh, pushing up from the rocking chair and reaching for a tissue from the changing table. Turning back, giving the room one last teary glance before closing the door, you sniff.

“You’re just…the luckiest little kid who’s ever gonna live.”

At one twenty a.m., cicadas chirping and trees rustling, the low breeze carrying the sounds through your half-open window – your back begins to ache. A blunt, gnawing pain. Feels like your period, and in your doze, you stuff a pillow between your legs and pray you don’t stain the sheets with a show of blood.

The realization comes over you as if that stifling breeze flips to freezing. You slowly come around, eyes peeling open as you think it over twice, then three times, then four. Duck shifts somewhere deep inside you, somewhere you’ve never felt them shift before.

“…No. Not right now, Duck. You gotta give me, like, twenty-four hours. Just – wait until your dad gets ho–”

A blinding pain interrupts you, the moonlit-blue room fading out of focus for half a second before you’re wide awake, clutching the bottom of your spine where you’re sure the kid just tore a fucking hole straight through your uterus.

“You’re a fucking dick,” you whimper, fingers clenching in tight fists around the bedsheets. “You’re a fucking – dick.”

One twenty-three. You go into labor.

[furjoshi]

Hope you had a nice birthday! 🥳🎉

thank you so much!! 🌺💕

[theemporium]

click 'here' to unlock the other boyfriends!

.

It was a well-known fact that Lando Norris was an affectionate guy. 

He couldn’t help himself, it was just something that came so naturally to him. From throwing himself onto his team after a podium finish to wrapping people in tight hugs, from tilting his head towards fans in photos to slumping against people in between long meetings when he needed a few moments to doze off. 

It was like his energy just thrived off of touch. He liked being around people, he liked being able to show them his appreciation and love because he was never really good with words. He liked being able to show the important people in his life what they meant to him—actions showing more than words and all that jazz. 

And he was pretty affectionate with his friends too, that was nothing new. 

But with you? Yeah, nobody was believing for a damn second that anything between you and Lando was just platonic.

You didn’t get it at first. You didn’t think he treated you any differently to how he did with his other friends. He hugged you the same way, threw his arm over you the same way, tugged you close the same way. He would lean his body against yours when he laughed a little too hard and his head would drop on your lap during movie nights, humming when you would scratch his scalp. 

But he did that with other people too. You weren’t anything special.

Except you were—it just took both you and Lando a stupidly long time to see what everyone else saw for months. And even once you spotted it, it wasn’t something you were rushing to tell the world. You wanted something to just be yours for a little bit—your little secret. 

You genuinely didn’t think people would even notice a shift in your relationship. You didn’t even think you acted all that differently from the months you and Lando were just friends, other than the bonus of making out with him at movie nights. 

“It’s been a while, chat. I’ve missed this.” 

Lando watched as the comments rolled in, filling up his screen so fast that he barely had time to catch more than a few words from each comment. And it was the truth. Streaming had become such a stress relief and easy pass-time in between race weekends. It was something simple and fun for him to do, to feel connected to the people who support him. In a weird way, it made him feel useful during his time off when there were no meetings to attend or data to review. 

It was something to do between training sessions.

“Hm, my plans? Mate, I just got off a triple header. My plans include moving as little as possible,” Lando said with an easy smile on his face, making no move to pick a game to play. There was no rush. “Although, I did invite—”

“Where’s my favourite P2 dickhead?!” 

His grin widened. “There she is.”

Lando turned in his chair, waiting a few moments as he listened to you drop your stuff by the door before you made your way into the room he was currently sitting in. You barrelled in, your smile almost as wide as his before you noticed the set up he had.

“You really invited me over while you were streaming?” You snorted, shaking your head but you didn’t have any complaints as you moved to sit on a couch near his desk. 

“No,” Lando whined as he reached out, his fingers wrapping around your wrist as he tugged you towards him. “I haven’t seen you in three weeks, it’s cruel to sit on the other side of the room.”

“Well, where else am I meant to sit?” You teased. “I keep telling you to get another chair in—-oh.”

You tried to hide your own surprise when Lando pulled you down onto his lap. It wasn’t the first time he had ever done it, and you highly doubted it would be the last, but he had never done it with so many people watching. 

He didn’t settle until his arms were wrapped around you, your body pressed against his before he practically nuzzled his face against your shoulder. “Better.”

Your face felt warm. “Someone’s clingy.” 

“I haven’t seen my best friend in three weeks,” Lando huffed, his brows furrowed together as though he was reliving the last three weeks. Between the races, training and media chaos, he barely had any time to himself—let alone time to talk to you. “Sue me.”

“Oh, he’s sassy and clingy,” you teased but didn’t say much else as you shifted until you were sideways on his lap, giving him a clear view of his screen. Your arm wound around his shoulder, your fingers twirling the curls at the nape of his neck. 

user: friends my ass, look at them!!

user: they are so cute!!

user: are they dating??

user: MY OTP!!!! 

user: clingy lando is the best lando

user: they are literal couple goals 

user: they are my fav ship 

Lando’s eyes scanned over the comments before he snorted, though there was something quite smug in his expression. “Ship? Like friendship? Aw, thanks.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re a fucking menace, Norris.”

“Language,” he teasingly scolded, lightly pinching your hip just out of view of the camera but the squeal you let out in response told the viewers enough. “Gotta keep it kid-friendly in here. Max is probably watching from home. We can’t scar the poor kid.”

max fewtrell: too late for that, mate

You shook your head, lips pressed together to hold back your laughs. You shifted in the seat, like you were ready to stand up but his arms tightened around you.

Lando’s face softened. “Where are you going? Stay here.”

“I was gonna go make something,” you said with a soft laugh. “God knows you’ve probably not eaten a proper meal since you got back.”

“Eh,” he grumbled but he didn’t relent his grip on you. “It’s fine, we can order something. Just stay here.”

“I’ll only be in the other room,” you attempted but the boy wasn’t having it.

“No, I prefer you here,” Lando said, squeezing your body to punctuate his point. “And the chat missed you too. It would be rude if you left.”

“This can’t be comfy for you,” you murmured, your voice a little softer in hopes the microphone wouldn’t pick it up.

But Lando just grinned at you—that wide, huge grin that took over his face and made his eyes crinkle and sent a flurry of butterflies through your stomach. 

“You’re exactly where I want you, baby.” 

And you couldn’t help but smile back. 

user: BABY??????

user: OH MY GOD IT’S CONFIRMED 

user: THIS IS SO KEWBFJWEKFBWE

max fewtrell: you’re such a fucking idiot 

max fewtrell: but happy for you guys<3

.

[confietti]

pt. 2 of Emo!choso

EMO!CHOSO who caressed your face while whispering sweet nothings into your ear while you cried into his chest because of your cramps. :(

EMO!CHOSO who was awfully confused the first time you sent him out to buy pads for you.

cho<3: baby whats ur pussy size? princess💝💝: what? princess💝💝: choso answer the phone. 🤦🏾‍♀️

EMO!CHOSO who your lash tech hates because he loves to cum on your face the same day she does your lashes. (he'll always pay for them, though.❤️)

EMO!CHOSO who you can never watch movies with because not even halfway through one you feel a hand slip down your underwear, causing you to look up only to be met with his shit-eating grin.

EMO!CHOSO who doesn't talk much but does silly things to you when he's bored. Randomly biting your shoulder, nudging your head with his nose, etc.

EMO!CHOSO whose idea of a good 'date night' is making out for hours and hours to his favorite songs.

EMO!CHOSO who loves to pull you into heated makeout sessions in public that leave you flustered and horny for the rest of the day.

EMO!CHOSO who will randomly smother his face into your ass while you're on your phone and you don't mind one bit.

EMO!CHOSO who has no problem paying for your hair products, braids, wigs, nails, lashes, etc. because he knows how expensive these things can be and refuses to not put at least some money towards getting them for you.

EMO!CHOSO who your parents still hate but have learned to tolerate because they've come to realize that he wasn't going anywhere.

EMO!CHOSO who took you too an art gallery as your 'official first date'. but instead of focusing on the art like you were, he was more captivated by you.. long story short, you ended up fucking in the bathroom by the end of the 'date.'

Bonus: Your loud moans bounced off the 4 walls of the men's restroom as choso pounded in you mercilessly. Your pretty dark red dress hiked up past your waist as drool dripped on your now exposed breasts. "You're doin' great sweets.. cum f'me, yeah?" his sadistic smile in the mirror was the last thing you saw before your vision blurred and you saw stars. that was the best 'official first date' you've ever had.

a/n: tysm for the support on pt.1 !!

© confietti, 2023. do not copy, steal, or repost my content without permission.

[bangarangdarling]

blame the “hitting on your mom as a punishment” tiktok i just saw that literally blew my brain up. established because they’re disgustingly in love and because i say so

Eddie would normally consider himself pretty immune to the roar of arguing teenagers. Chaos surrounds their little Party. They’re not a quiet bunch when all together. It’s all shoving and yelling, giggling and roughhousing. Carpet-burned battle scars from the floor of Steve’s living room.

Lord knows Eddie himself wasn’t an inside-voice kind of person. He was certainly wont to standing on coffee tables and screeching demands for the remote when it was unjustly stolen away by villainous hands.

Eddie loved these people to death, and they were a lot of fucking fun to hang out with, it’s just this...this was an unreal level of noise. A normal sleepover night turned a little too rowdy, the adolescents celebrating the start of Summer with a bang.

Steve had already asked them to keep it down four times this evening. Nothing seemed to calm them. Not requests. Not threats of being sent home. Usually their Dungeon Master threatening their characters’ souls did the trick, but no go. 

Getting teenagers to listen? A feat more impossible than defeating creatures from an alternate universe. 

Dustin and Erica were in a bitching match about the best D&D class. Lucas and Mike had been fighting over movie choices for the last half hour. Eddie’s money was on the VHS player breaking before that, the constant mishandling and shoving of tapes had the poor thing practically smoking.

Will, ever the diplomat, was trying to be an impartial party when asked his movie opinions. Which, of course, caused more yelling. 

Max and El had been the only ones being semi-quiet, but that quickly ended when they followed through on their surprise attack pillow fight, pummeling the boys senseless and causing the already unbearable volume to kick into overdrive. Eddie could practically feel Steve’s migraine building, even from where the dude had retreated to the kitchen. Dinner had been pizza. Quick. Easy. Clean. Or, it would have been if it hadn’t had been for the food fight. Steve was still in there scrubbing cheese out of his parents’ tiled backsplash. Dishes clattered in the distance when the cacophony hit its crescendo. 

It was the proverbial straw. 

“Alright, that’s it! Hey. Come on, guys. Knock it off,”

Nothing. 

“HEY!”

He maybe overdid it that time, but the absolute ear-splitting boom of a yell he let out stopped the ruckus dead. 

Silence rang for a beat.

Huh. Maybe Eddie should try out incorporating that into his music. He honestly hadn’t known he could get to that range. 

The teenagers in the room stared at him, not cowed in the slightest, but curious enough to know what the hell Eddie’s problem was. Max was the first one to quirk an eyebrow at him.  “Geez, need attention much?” 

Eddie folded his arms to show he meant business. “Steve has asked you guys to tone it down. You’re waking the fucking dead. Why don’t you guys, like, actually go be good human beings and help him clean up your mess you all made in the kitchen, huh?” 

Lucas snorted. “Yeah, okay, mom. Why don’t you go help him, you guys will probably just make out in there, anyway.” 

It was a teasing comment. Meant to jokingly rib before getting back to doing whatever the hell they wanted to do.

But, see. That just gave him an idea. 

Never let it be said Eddie couldn’t be creative with his punishments. He was a DM after all. 

“Alllllllright. New plan. Listen up or suffer, ankle biters,” 

He really didn’t appreciate the snickers that brought about when he was trying to be intimidating. Rude. 

“You going to send us to our room or something? I’m real scared,” Erica’s scathing, dry wit was unparalleled, truly. 

“Nope. Better. It’s a new rule: You little shitheads give me attitude and don’t listen, I hit on your babysitter.”

It was silent for a minute, brains audibly computing that statement and coming up ERROR. Will hesitantly spoke up. 

“Uh, Eddie, I really don’t think that’s--”

“Yeah, what the fuck?” Mike interrupted. “Why would you beating up Steve hurt us? I mean, like, I guess it would emotionally, but that’s fucked up, man.” 

Eddie rolled his eyes, still smirking wickedly as his plan solidified.  “Oh, I don’t mean that kind of hitting, young Wheeler. Though, it may yet get physical--Hey, Steve?” He called out. The sink in the kitchen shut off after a second.

“Yeah?” 

“Can you come here?” 

The kids shuffled around on the floor warily as the other man walked into the living room. The energy had obviously shifted, it was probably an odd vibe to walk in to, but Eddie cut Steve off before he could ask any questions.

“You tired?”

“Uh, no. I’m fine--”

“It’s just you just keep on runnin’ through my mind constantly. I figured you’d be exhausted, sweetheart,” Eddie purred, the words cloyingly sweet and full of exaggerated charm. 

There was a countdown, three, two, one...

A collective groan let out. A few uncomfortable laughs.  “Dude, what the hell?” 

“You guys agreed not to be gross in front of us!”

“Oh, my god, can I actually get sick from how cheesy that was?” 

Eddie had to work at keeping in character when his very first line had pulled the intended reaction. He was already reaching forward to curl an arm around Steve, pulling him in in a slow, sultry attempt at being smooth. 

“What? Can’t I be sweet on my guy? You all will understand when you’re in love one day. Right, sugar?” 

Fake gags and retching sounds, too dramatic to be real protests, but still indignant and annoyed. Eddie was pretty sure Dustin slapped a hand over his eyes.

“Uh...yes?” Steve, who had previously looked like a car accident had happened directly in front of him, was catching on to the play. He eyed the disgruntled floor-children with a growing grin and let Eddie snuggle up to him.

God, his baby was so clever. He always knew what Eddie was thinking. 

Too busy having a non-verbal conversation with Steve on how to best annoy the kids, Eddie didn’t see Mike turning his attention back to the tv. He did, however, hear him telling the others to “Just ignore them, they’ll get all gushy and leave us alone.” 

Oh, Michael, Michael. Wrong move. 

“How you doing, babygirl?” Steve flushed, deep and red and--huh. Okay. Revisiting that one in the future. “You good? You need anything? Your head hurting, sweet thing? I can kiss it better,”  Eddie ducked forward to kiss Steve’s cheek. It was chaste, a sweet little thing...that Eddie made infinitely worse by the smacking, obnoxious kissy sounds he emulated there. The chorus of groans and protests started up again. He didn’t even pull his face away to call over to them. 

“I’m sorry, is that attitude? Am I hearing more attitude?”

“Dude, Eddie, noooo!” 

“Jesus, it’s like watching your parents make out, oh my god.” 

“You guys, let’s just go already,” 

“Yeah, I’ll take washing dishes over this,” 

The grossed out teenagers whooshed past them. Grumbling and glaring--except Eleven, who smiled up at them sweetly--leaving Steve and Eddie standing in the living room, still wrapped up together. 

It was too tempting then, with the kids safely out of range, for Eddie to resist the temptation to drop his kisses a little lower down Steve’s neck. To let them get a little less chaste. Just a little.

What can he say? He’s a weak man. 

“That was evil,” Steve hummed. His shoulders dropped, though, relaxing into Eddie’s hold, the closest thing they’ve had to quiet all night settling in. 

“Hey, I accomplished two things. Got them to chill out and I get the perk of feeling you up in the middle of sleepover night. It’s a win-win.” 

A crash and a muffled argument broke out in the kitchen before Steve could respond to that. 

The audible scuffling was cut off by Eddie calling out “Your ass looks great in these jeans tonight, Harrington!” 

The fierce whispers and shushing were enough to get both of the older boys cackling loudly. 

[sleepypanda27]

Bucky's Crush

Bucky x reader

Summary: Sam is tired of Bucky not doing anything to get the girl he likes. So he helps out a bit.

Words: 710

Warnings: Cute and nervous Bucky

It was an early morning in the compound. Sam was telling Bucky some story of his adventures, but that turned into white noise when he saw you walking into the kitchen. Still in your pajama and unbrushed, messy hair. You walked to the mug cupboard and stretched, yawning.

"Want some coffee?" Bucky asked with a smile in his voice.

"Yes, please." You leaned against the kitchen island, watching Bucky intently as he made you coffee. Who knew that making coffee could be so sexy?

"Good morning, by the way." He said in a little raspy voice from sleep.

"Hi, good morning." You blushed, tucking hair behind your ear, and smiled awkwardly, hoping he didn't notice you staring at him.

"There you go." His eyes were locked with yours as he gave you a cup with steam coming from it.

"Thank you, Bucky." Inhaling the delicious scent, you thanked him.

"You're welcome, doll." He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the counter. Subtly, his eyes traveled up and down your body, making you blush again. You went back to your room, thinking you should try to blush less in Bucky's presence.

Bucky shook his head with a smile and looked at Sam, who was staring at him. "What?"

"Seriously?"

"What?" Bucky didn't understand what was his problem.

"I was talking to you, dude."

"I heard you."

"Okay then. What was the last thing you heard?"

"Ummm...that you like seeds and breadcrumbs." Bucky shrugged.

"Ugh, just ask her out already." Sam rolled his eyes, annoyed.

"I will..." Bucky looked into the hallway you went to just seconds ago. "Someday."

Sam had arranged a movie night, making you and Bucky sit together. It was all highly suspicious because you three were the only people there.

Bucky's musky cologne mixed with the faded scent of the leather jacket he had worn earlier, lingered on his hoodie. You had to fight against the urge to just melt into your seat.

He pretended to yawn, stretching his arms in the air, and placing his arm around your shoulders, gauging your reaction. Naturally, you moved closer to his side. He had to bite his cheeks to stop the smile from turning too big.

Sam bailed pretty early, knowing that if you two were left alone, you would feel more free and open up.

After a while, you stood up, and Bucky thought 'Well, this is it, he went too far too soon.' But you only took a blanket and then returned to your seat by his side. This time, snuggling even closer to him.

His mind reeled with all kinds of different thoughts. All of them included you. He wondered did he remembered how to kiss. Can you even forget something like that? Now, he went too far and was overthinking.

You could feel and hear his relentless heartbeat, or maybe it was yours you couldn't quite tell.

You couldn't take the tension anymore. You spun around so fast that you startled both of you. Placing your hand softly on his nape, you slowly leaned closer, giving him a chance to stop this, but instead, he closed the distance. As soon as your lips met, it was like he forgot all of his previous worries.

Bucky couldn't hide the smile anymore and he didn't want to. Feeling the dog tags around his neck, you wrapped the silver chain around your fingers, tugging him to you while lying back on the couch. Which he gladly followed.

After a while, Bucky pulled away from you, looking to the side, where Sam was slowly and carefully creeping to the place where he was sitting earlier.

Noticing that he's caught, Sam stopped. "Don't mind me, I just forgot my phone. He quickly run after the phone. "Carry on." He shot you both a smile and left.

Laughing, you hid your face in your palms from embarrassment. Bucky chuckled, gently taking your hands off your face. "You are so damn cute, doll."

Now you were blushing even harder.

Bucky turned off the TV and, easily picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. Your squeal turned into giggles. "Where are we going?"

"To my room." He smiled, "So we can watch the movie and make out without interruption."

[starkeyisthelastname]

kinda curious about how the first time with stepdad!rafe be like

btw love your writing sm oml🤍

(Thank you sweetness! 🤭💕)

He had treated you to an entire day of shopping on the mainland, letting you get anything you wanted. From Sephora to Chanel, he spent it all on you. He had been buttering you up for the last few weeks, letting his gentlemen come out every second. You were naive, needing someone to guide you through your newly adult years.

He had made sure his wife wasn’t home that night, thanking this was a weekend she had went on a girl’s trip with her friends. He had even said yes to watching a movie with you in your bed, his goal to get his cock in you that same night.

“Hold your legs back for me.. yeah there you go.” Rafe’s voice low as he helped you bend your smooth thighs back. He had you nearly folded in half, pink pussy at the perfect angle for him to slide into. He saw your face, cheeks already flushed as you tried to shy away from him. As open to the idea of him teaching you what a real man should do, he also knew you were worried about your mother finding out. “Hey, look at me. Yeah?” He said, dick in hand as he slid it over your soaked folds.

You glanced at him, wispy lashes fluttering as your pretty lips opened in a small whimper. “I’m scared.” You whispered. You had only had sex once before and he wasn’t anywhere as big as Rafe. You also knew that this was wrong, but your naive self also had thing for strong male figures and wanting to completely devote yourself to them. Even if this one happened to be your stepfather.

Rafe’s hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb stroking your smooth skin as he stuck the tip near your entrance. “Don’t be scared sweetheart. I promise you it’s gonna feel good.” He whispered, slowly pushing himself in your tight cunt for the first time. “Yeah… daddy’s gonna make you a good little slut.” His blue eyes rolling back as your hot little cunt swallowed him.

Your mouth fell open, eyebrows squeezing together as you felt his fat length fill you up. You couldn't seem to say anything, words at a loss as he began to trust his toned hips. Your tummy fluttered, eyes glancing up at the handsome man above you.

Rafe let out a soft chuckle, eyes flashing dark as his messed up mine got off on the fact he had his dick buried up his step-daughter’s cunt. His thumb came down to rub your pearl, watching as you let out the prettiest moan he had ever heard. “You like that shit?” His voice rasped out to you.

All you could was nod your head, moans only growing louder the harder he went. The way your hips were angled had him hitting your hole at a brutal pace, your own parts betraying you as the sound of wetness filled the room.

He smirked, loving how he had you exactly where he wanted you. Wrapped around his finger to be a good cock slut. “Yeah… there you go. Take that dick up your princess cunt like a good girl.”

His nasty words, only make you wonder what else he had in store for you moving forward. The tiny voice in the back of your head, making your French nails tap his lower abdomen. “Rafey.. we sh-should stop.” You mumbled, struggling to cease the funny feeling that was growing in the pit of your belly.

Rafe looked at you, thrusts coming to a halt. He watched your eyes widen, glossy lips frowning despite you telling him to stop. “Why you fuckin crying for then when I slow down? Huh?” He asked eyebrow raised as he heard the whine come from your open mouth. “Better start using your big girl words or I will fuckin stop. You and I both know you don't want that baby.”