#so i smiled and waved and he pointed at me and was like ‘you.’ and motioned for me to come over so i was like um. Okay

[evieskiesss]

TOM GETTING HIGH (weed) WITH READER .

so like they are smoking at home and they get all clingy and kissy and they make out and it ends with them doing it 🤭🤭

HIGH LOVING- TOM KAULITZ

smut

A/N: i’m soooo rusty lollll. i tried :(

-

“pass me the lighter, liebe,” tom’s voice cracked through the low music in the room. i reached over to the side of our bed, lazily reaching for my purse on the ground, fetching my lighter before returning to my same spot on the bed.

the mattress was dipped in by tom’s weight, i watched closely as i watched his fingers push in the small bundles of weed, rolling it tightly to prevent anything from slipping out. his tongue peeked out his mouth, swiping across the ends of the backwood, letting it moisten up before sealing it shut. tom flicked the lighter open, passing the blunt through the fire a rapid 4 times before setting it between his lips.

“what strain did you buy again?” i asked softly, not exactly remembering what his dealer had slipped him. “indica,” he mumbled, holding the tall flame to the tip, letting it catch afire. i groaned, “i don’t like indica!”

the tip became an angry orange as his cheeks hallowed out, lips parting to draw a ghost before quickly disappearing into his lips. “this ones different, baby,” his voice was gruff as he held in the smoke, “come try it.”. i rolled my eyes a little, annoyed at how he bought a strain he knew i didn’t like. i crawled over to him, taking the blunt from his fingers & placing it between my lips.

my cheeks hallowed out, the taste of the burnt plant clouding my mouth before i inhaled. the sensation of my lungs being invaded was short lived, killed by my immediate coughing. “s-shit,” i coughed out, handing the blunt back to tom. he laughed, patting my back as i shook my head, “it’s strong!”

“very,” he mumbled taking another hit, “but you’ll love it.”

“i doubt it.”

-

“i love it..” i sighed softly, giggling as i laid back on the bed. by this point, the room was foggy, filled with the intoxicating smoke of our blunt which was now nearly finished. “i told you,” tom responded slowly, the high having taken a quick toll on us. i closed my eyes, sucking in a sharp breath of air, my head felt light. i felt my body begin to sway, the mattress suddenly becoming lighter, i felt like i was on an ocean, floating along the waves of the pacific.

tom turned to me, his lips curling up in a smirk at my dazed out state, the small smile on my lips being a dead giveaway on how much i was enjoying it. his eyes raked down my figure, taking in the sight of me. my thin panties clung onto my hips while my top had ridden up, exposing my tummy, allowing my belly piercing to glisten against the little light in the room. he caught his lower lip between his teeth, his hand coming to touch my exposed belly, rubbing it softly.

his body leaned down, his lips coming in contact with the skin on my belly, his mouth leaving soft kisses along it. “you’re beautiful,” tom whispered quietly, his tokens of love making their way up my body & neck before reaching my face. “komm,” he whispered, fingers taking a hold of my chin before pressing his lips against mine. i sighed softly into the kiss, reciprocating his affection.

his fingers sneaked their way up my leg, caressing my thigh softly as his lips moved against mine. my lips parted, giving his tongue an entrance to slip into, leading us to dive deeper into a passionate frenzy. tom sighed softly against my lips, his eyes fluttering shut in satisfaction. his hands kneaded at my thighs like dough, his grip becoming tighter as the seconds flew by.

we broke the kiss momentarily, catching our breaths as our chests heaved, our lips slowly swelling at our pressured kissing. tom’s kissed grew sloppy against my jawline, his leisurely pace growing on me as i savored the feeling of his tongue on my skin. it was by this time that i knew he was high. whenever the marijuana kicked in, there was tom, all over me. i never knew what it was about weed that made him so clingy, yet he never fails to make me feel so loved.

it was always the same thing. the kissing, the grabbing and fondling, the teasing licking and nipping, tugging and hugging, whining and crying about how he just needs to feel me, touch me, tease me, love me. i never complained though. i smiled, pushing at his chest when he began rubbing his lip piercing against my neck, teasing the sensitive skin. “stop!” i giggled softly, he let out a low whine, his hand gripping onto my waist, keeping me flush against him, preventing me from any way of escaping his loving embrace.

his lips began kissing again, his tongue parting from his lips every now and then to give my neck a teasing lick. i bit my lip, holding back my soft smirk as he grew closer to my sweet spot and he knew it. he pressure of his lips became firmer, eliciting small moans from me once he reached jackpot. i let out a small gasp as his teeth nipped me before quickly soothing it with his warm tongue. my fingers tugged on the waistband of his sweats, holding back small whimpers.

his face departed from my neck, pulling back just enough to catch my lips with his. “you want it?” he asked me lowly, rubbing my hip. i nodded breathlessly, wanting to put out the fire that burned so agonizingly between my legs. tom’s hand reached down to his sweatpants, his hand dipping in just enough to pull his cock out, pumping himself a couple times, eliciting small moans from himself.

tom rolled to be on top of me, settling himself between my legs. his finger looped around my damp panties, pushing them to the side as he aligned his mushroom tip to my wet cunt. my leg flung itself around his hip, holding him close as he began to push through, sliding into me with a slight pop. we groaned in unison. tom’s head hung low, buried into the crook of my neck as his cock pushed deeper into me, my gummy walls swallowing him whole. we both let out a small sigh once he was fully in, my head spun around in pleasure and dizziness, god i loved this.

there was something so lazy yet intimate about sex while being high because although we didn’t need to put that much energy or effort into it, it always turned out great. pulling his hips back, he snapped them back in, my mouth drew open as tom grinded his hips softly up into mine, his cock leaving a small burn on my hole as it adjusted to his thick base. he pulled back nearly all the way out before sliding back in lazily, groaning huskily into my ear as his sensitive cock grew accustomed to my tight walls. his lips attacked my neck as he thrusted slightly faster, “f-fuck,” he growled.

i gasped as his tip hit a soft spot inside of me, my nails digging into his back as a form of showing him how good it felt. tom chuckled softly, taking my gasp as a sign for more. his thrusts became harder, pulling back to ram his hips deeper into mine, surely leaving bruises against the bone. my legs tightened around his waist, pulling him in closer, needing to feel him deeper. the sounds of his balls slapping against my ass filled the room, slightly drowned out by the low music that never stopped playing.

tom grew more erratic, his panting became heavier and kisses sloppier. in a sudden movement, he pulled out. it was so quick, i didn’t have time to whine before he laid back against the bed frame, his fingers pulling at my waist to make me sit on top of him, “c’mere baby,” he panted, taking a hold of his cock to align it with my sopping entrance.

his fingers wrapped around my hip, keeping me still before i slammed my hips down, immediately throwing my head back as his cock filled me up much more in this position. my hands shakily found his shoulders, needing some form of stability as the pleasure mixed with my high, my head spun so much. i began moving myself up and down on his length, his cock causing a light pain in my walls at how much he stretched me out yet i ignored it, distracted by the bliss of his mushroom tip abusing my spot. toms head flew back, resting on the bedframe as his eyes rolled in pleasure. his neck was warm & sweaty, adam’s apple bobbing as he groaned.

i cried out in pleasure, tom’s chest caving in as he let out a gruff moan. “just like that, baby, oh fuckk..” his hand gripped my ass, giving it a quick slap, “faster,” he panted. i whined softly, i dug my nails into his shoulder, mustering up the little bit of energy i had left. finally, i set my pace again, this time faster. i slammed my hips down, thighs burning at the ache while tom threw his head back once more. his hand gripped my hip, one of them trailing to fondle my breast. his lips attached around the bud, suckling on it. he kept his grip tight as he used his strength to help me continue bouncing. i whimpered softly, the pleasure of his cock and his lips on my breast nearly sending me over the edge.

“f-fuck, feels so fucking g-good,” i moaned with my eyes screwed shut. “yea? you like it when you ride my cock?” tom taunted me, his fingers pinching at my nipple. i nodded feverishly, my mouth wide open as my head flew back. tom caught me by surprise by thrusting his hips up, meeting mine halfway to add to our pleasure. my hands flew to the top of the bed frame, fingers clenching onto it with a tight grip, keeping myself from giving into the unbelievable sensation of his cock abusing my walls. soon enough, my walls began clenching once more, my thighs shaking along with it. tom knew it all too well, it was a sign of my orgasm quickly approaching.

i cried out, “f-fuck!”. tears of pleasure pricked my eyes as he fucked me faster, “you wanna cum, baby? you wanna cum on my cock?” tom looked at me with satisfied eyes, seeing my fucked out face, tears rolling down my flushed cheeks and swollen lips. “yes! fuck!”

“do it, baby, do it,” were the last words i heard before my vision went white. my thighs trembled as i orgasmed hard, my voice raw as i let out a silent scream. i collapsed, legs giving out as the powerful shocks of my orgasm ran through my body.

tom gave me two last hard thrusts before holding my hips down. “oh gott!” he growled, fingernails digging into my skin as his hot cum spewed inside of me, his cock twitching. we moaned in unison,he pressed my hips down harder, rolling them in an attempt to milk himself even further, the feel of his cock inside of my sensitive cunt becoming too much to bear.

our breaths became shallow, panting heavily as our sticky bodies collapsed against each other. i winced softly as he never let go of my waist, his hips curling up into mine, nearly overstimulating himself as he rung his orgasm out dry.

“fuck..” i whispered, my face coming out the crook of his neck. a small weak smile appeared on my face at the silly sight of his disheveled state. his eyes were half-lidded, baby hairs stuck on his forehead with claw marks all on himself with his lips all bitten & swollen.

“i should buy that shit more often..” he muttered sleepily.

[pupkashi]

Idk if your taking requests but I may or may not be in need of a gojo comfort fic when your boss is shitty and work is stressful👉👈

hi anon i hope this brings you a little comfort <3 wishing you all the best you amazing hard worker !!! i didn’t expect this to get this long

everything seems off the second satoru enters your shared home. there’s no sound from the kitchen or tv, there’s no music playing and there’s no lights on.

his first instinct is to panic, his mind racing as he wonders if something bad had happened to you, ready to burn down the world to ensure your safety and make anyone responsible pay for hurting his lover.

then he takes a deep breath, calms his racing heart and calls out your name. when he gets no response he frowns, heart rate spiking again as he searches the living room, kitchen and restroom before heading upstairs.

a wave of relief washes over him when he sees warm light peaking out from the cracked bedroom door. he’s about to open the door to loudly greet you when he stops in his tracks, heart dropping when he hears your muffled sniffles.

the second you see the door opening your face pales, trying your best to wipe any stray tears away before satoru can see you.

“angel! didn’t expect you back so soon” you laugh nervously, wiping your nose with the sleeve of his your sweatshirt as you stand up from the floor. you know your eyes are puffy and red, you know you’ve been caught but a part of you hopes satoru will let it slide just this once.

the other part of you knows he won’t let it go, he’s going to do everything in his power to help you and make you feel better about it all.

“what happened? are you hurt? who hurt you?” his words come out with a flurry of emotions; anger, sadness, and worry all wrapped up with a bow of concern as he walks up to you quickly. he’s gently resting his hands on your shoulders, looking you over and around the room to try and figure out what had happened.

“I’m okay it’s nothing” you say, trying your best to force a small smile, but your bottom lip quivers. it hurts satoru too much for him to stand around doing nothing.

“sweetheart please,” he whispers, brows drawn together in concern, “I just wanna help you.” his gentle words are enough to make you break down into tears again, knees weak as you let yourself sit on the edge of the bed, holding your head in tour hands as you cried.

“work is just so shitty” you say as best you can, calming yourself down as satoru holds you against his chest tightly. “my boss treats me like I’m an idiot who can’t do anything” you mumble against his chest.

“i do everything i can and prove myself over and over again- I’ve taken on so many things lately and it’s so stressful and for what?” you question, pushing yourself off your lover and looking him in the eyes, “all so they can tell me i need to do better? i hate it there, they never acknowledge me and- i hate it” you cry, tears welling in your eyes once more.

the last weeks had been too overwhelming to handle, but you’d set your emotions aside, wanting to perform at your best at work. your boss’ shitty remarks were the tipping point for you as you clocked out.

satoru holds you tightly against him, trying his best to calm you down. he’s rubbing your back with one hand and holding your head against his chest with the other. it’s not until he feels you only hiccuping as you calm down that he loosens his grip on you.

when you pull away from him you cringe at how soaked you’ve left his t shirt, biting back an apology as you know the state of his shirt isn’t even on his mind at the moment.

“did you want to just vent or did you want me to give input?” he asks softly, acknowledging that sometimes he doesn’t need to give you any advice, you can handle yourself when you need to.

“just wanted to vent i guess” you mumble, thanking him when he hands you tissues to blow your nose.

“i can always kill your boss” he smiles. you smack his chest softly, chuckling as you shake your head. you know he’s not joking about it, fully prepared to end anyone that makes you cry. “okay then how about buying out the company?” he thinks, a finger on his chin as you shove him.

“stop throwing your money around for nothing” you tell him, making him pout as he looks at you.

“it’s not nothing though, it’s for you” he says, pressing a feathery kiss to one of your cheeks, “I’d spend every penny i have to see you smile, sweetheart.” the words have your face growing hotter by the second, and you don’t care to admit the way your heart thumps against your ribcage at his confession.

“but for now how about i just spend however much you want on some takeout and snacks, yeah?” his words make you smile, letting yourself lean against him, letting your eyes flutter shut. they burned slightly from how hard you’d cried, for a second you worry about how swollen they’ll be tomorrow, but it quickly fades when you feel satoru’s lips on the top of your head.

“here, pick whatever you want while i go start the shower” he smiles, handing you his phone before he’s kissing your forehead and heading to the restroom.

time seems like it stops for a second, as you scroll on satoru’s phone and pick your favorite takeout, you leave it unlocked so he can ass his meal on there too. like clockwork he’s stepping out of the restroom, motioning for you to join him in the restroom.

it’s one of the most intamiye moments you’ve shared with him, letting him gently take the clothes you were wearing off. you step out of the pants and underwear pooled around your ankles a he ushers you into the shower. satoru takes his clothes off afterwards, following you in and grabbing the shower head.

he lets the warm water run over you, making sure to get your hair soaked before he’s getting shampoo in his hands and massaging it in. then he does the same with the conditioner and body wash. it’s relatively quiet, save for the water running and satoru’s occasional humming.

once he’s done he’s giving you a warm towel, wrapping it around you and telling you he’d be right out. satoru shampoos his own hair with much less gentleness and care than he had yours, quickly rinsing his hair and drying himself off before joining you on the bed.

“you wanna wear my sweatshirt? I’ll spray my cologne on it for you” he grins, heart leaping when your eyes sparkle at his words. satoru doesn’t waste a moment, handing you the sweater and a fresh pair of underwear.

he’s putting in boxers and grey sweats, messily towel drying his hair when the doorbell rings. “you wanna eat up here or downstairs?” he asks you, slipping a black t shirt on before opening the bedroom door.

“let’s do downstairs” you smile, watching as he walks down the hall and disappears down the stairs. you close your eyes and let out a sigh of relief, feeling like the pressure of the world had been washed down the drain thanks to your lover.

life feels okay again as you eat takeout on the couch, a shitty romcom on the tv as you two poke fun at the main characters of the movie, betting on what cliche they’ll do next. there’s a pint of your favorite ice cream flavor waiting for you in the fridge and a bouquet of flowers in a beautiful vase now adorning the dinner table.

satoru keeps you at his side the whole night, pampering and assuring you how amazing you were. he makes sure to tell you that he could easily support you if you wanted to quit, he could have you moved to another location if you just say the word.

but you shake your head, “i just had it piled up for too long, I’ll be okay” you assure him. “plus i have a really great boyfriend to help me when things he hard” you add on, making him smile and hold you tighter.

“sweets you don’t need me at all, you’re much stronger than i am” he chuckles, “i would’ve killed them by now; you’re so resilient.” his words make you smile, letting a comfortable silence fall over the two of you.

work sucks, your boss is an asshole. but satoru is always there to help you when things get too much. and you have a sneaking suspicion that a blue eyed man is behind your boss getting fired in two days time.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags @fushironi @nineooooo @the-mom-friend-dot-com @gojoshooter @beautiful-is-boring @sweetheart-satoru @luna0713hunter @torusmochi @kentocalls @sadmonke

[rubytuby]

winner winner

college!art donaldson x fem!reader

word count: 1.5k

warnings: none lol, just short and sweet :)

note: stanford art my beloved wow… that’s boyfriend, pookie even. also i have to say that i am a patrick girl and i'm cooking up something there for yall. let me know if you liked pleak!

As the sun beat down relentlessly on the Stanford practice court, every movement felt more grueling, the exhaustion seeping into your bones. After picking up stray balls for what seemed like the hundredth time, abandoning your racket and never looking back sounded more than enticing. Bending down to retrieve another ball, you could feel the pounding in your head, a dull throb forcing you to close your eyes. Your scalp was wet from sweat, and you could see your damp hair hanging in the corner of your eyes, clinging to your forehead as you moved. Stuffing the balls into your shorts pockets, you trudged back to the center of the court, wiping the sweat from your forehead with a sigh. 

Through half-lidded eyes, you blankly stared at hitting partner, Art Donaldson, who was looking right back at you with a big grin on his face. You cocked an eyebrow at him and shook your head impressed by his ability to look absolutely unphased by exertion. You felt another throb in your head and winced and placed your thumb and pointer finger over your eyes.

Art's grin faded, replaced by a look of concern. “Hey, you good?” he asked, stepping closer, genuinely worried for you.

You dropped your hand and waved him off, forcing a tired smile. “Yeah, yeah, just give me a sec,” you replied, though the pounding in your head was reminiscent of that one time at tennis camp when you almost got heat stroke.

Art eyed you skeptically, doubting your words. "Are you sure? You look like you might—"

"No, I can play," you interrupted him mid-sentence, your voice firm despite your fatigue. Art tilted his head to the side. "I swear I'm fine." You flashed him an exaggerated smile to prove your point.

Art’s eyebrows lifted slightly, lips curling into a subtle, amused smile. He knew you’d never call it quits, regardless of how tired you were. He then removed a ball from his pocket and held it out, shooting you a knowing look. You simply met his gaze with a blank expression. As you positioned yourself to receive the serve, he spoke with a hint of amusement in his voice, "Alright, this one's gonna be 130. Ready?"

"If you keep taunting me, I might just forget we're here to play tennis and accidentally walk back to my dorm," you joked.

"Well, you know I wouldn't mind going back to your dorm," he said with a wink.

You rolled your eyes and gave him a tight-lipped smile, bucking your head in an effort to get him to stop talking and actually serve the ball. You shifted your weight from one foot to the other and squinted against the beaming sun, silently cursing yourself for telling Art he could take whatever side of the court he wanted.

Art tossed the ball into the air and smacked the ball with his racket, you braced yourself, eyes locked on the ball's descent. With a swift motion, you swung your racket, the satisfying thwack of ball meeting strings reverberating through the air. Art effortlessly returned your hit and let out a soft grunt, initiating another rally. At this point in your practice, you had resigned yourself to serving each hit directly to Art, too tired to bother with tricking him. Art, though, seemingly wanted you to put the work in before you could call it a day. Hitting the ball just inside the front of the service box when you were way back by the center mark.

"If you wanted to win so badly, you could’ve just asked me to play nice," you remarked, words heavy with exasperation as you let the ball bounce off into the distance.

Art watched the ball roll away, silently celebrating. "Where's the fun in taking it easy?" he teased. "Maybe I wanted the challenge."

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips. "Yeah, yeah," you replied. "I'm sure those distracting grunts are just part of your master plan to win, right?"

Art shrugged and walked over to you, leaning against the net. "Well, they're not meant to be distracting," he retorted, a smirk on his face. "But if they're taking you out of the game, maybe you're not cut out for this."

"Oh, please, last time I checked, the WTA and ATP didn't have any categories for grunts and groans," you said, turning your back to Art as you walked back to the baseline.

Art laughed, smile widening as he prepared to serve up another ball. "Maybe they should consider adding it," he quipped as he tossed the ball into the air. 

Art served the ball with a slice. You returned it with a swift backhand, and the rally began again. Each of you fell into a rhythm, the ball bouncing back and forth across the net.

"This is match point," you called out.

"If you say so," he replied, a confident grin spreading across his face.

The rally eventually grew more intense, each exchange faster and more furious than the last. Art’s eyes glinted as he positioned himself for the next shot. Suddenly, with a fluid and powerful motion, he sent the ball rocketing toward the far corner of the court. Your eyes followed its trajectory, a split second of realization dawning on you as you scrambled to reach it. But it was too late. The ball landed just beyond your outstretched racket, bouncing twice before coming to a stop. You halted and let out a frustrated groan, a pout forming on your lips.

Art watched as you dropped your racket and flopped down onto the court, frustration evident on your face. Laughing softly to himself, he sauntered over, picking up your racket along the way.

He leaned down next to you and patted your cheek, holding your racket out with a playful grin. "Tough break, champ," he teased.

You playfully tugged the racket from his hand and stood up, sticking out your tongue. "You live for these moments, don't you?"

Art grinned mischievously and nodded. "Oh, absolutely," he replied with a laugh. As the two of you strolled toward a nearby bench, he playfully snagged your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours.

"I swear to god I almost had it," you mused, shaking your head.

Art responded with mock dread, “Oh no, you lost for once, your reputation may never recover.” 

You both plopped onto the bench with a thud, limbs splayed out as you leaned back, panting heavily. The exhaustion from the intense rally was apparent in every breath you took, your chest rising and falling rapidly.

As you settled onto the bench, you placed your oversized bag on your lap and began rummaging for your water bottle. Art scooted closer, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. Then, after some serious searching, you unearthed your water bottle with a triumphant expression. Art feigned surprise, raising his eyebrows in mock astonishment before gently lifting your legs to rest across his lap, tracing his free hand against one of your knees. 

You brought the bottle to your lips and promptly you chugged down half of it in a couple of big gulps. Art stifled a laugh, watching you with amusement. "Thirsty?" he teased, nudging you playfully with his elbow.

You shot him a playful glare, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. "Shut up," you retorted, but the smile on your face betrayed your annoyance. He removed his hand from your shin and reached for your water bottle, but before he could grab it, you snaked it away from him, furrowing your brows and shaking your head.

"Nuh uh, what's the magic word?" You said, wagging your finger in his face.

Art raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to make me beg?" he teased, leaning closer to you, his face mere inches from yours.

“Maybe later,” you said, closing the gap between you two, smiling as you pressed a chaste kiss to his lips before handing him the water bottle.

Art grinned, taking the bottle from your hands. "Ok, now, can I please have a sip of water?"

You faked pondering for a moment. "Well, since you asked so nicely."

After taking a long drink, Art handed the bottle back to you with a smirk.

You giggled, rolling your eyes. "So, a rematch tomorrow?" you asked. "Coach says I need to work on my ‘’sloppy forehand’—whatever that means."

Art scoffed. "You? A ‘sloppy forehand’? Sounds like something he made up to get you to play harder," he teased.

"His words, not mine," you replied with a shrug.

Art leaned back against the bench, narrowing his eyes as he looked at you. "What if the loser buys dinner tomorrow?" he suggested.

You raised an eyebrow. "Is this your way of saying you’re tired of paying for me on every date?”

Art's expression softened, and he reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. "It's not that, you know I don't care," he said, voice tender. "I just thought it would be a fun incentive."

You looked off to the side and faked pondered before saying, "Alright, deal."

Art leaned in, his lips brushing against your cheek in a gentle kiss. "Just so you know," he whispered into your ear, "I'm not planning on losing."

[kisseobie]

sugar sorbet

pairings: jongseob x reader

warnings: nsfw (mdni)

tags: established relationship, soft dom!jongseob, cunnilingus, consensual somno, pussy drunk seob hehe, cum eating, fingering, honestly i think that’s it ?

a/n: something short 4 the girls.. bare faced orange haired pussy eater seob save me….

your breathing is getting noticeably heavier, a bit sporadic as you start to stir from sweet slumber, eyebrows slightly furrowed while your dizzied head attempts to catch up with the familiar feeling of pleasure your body is experiencing. your boyfriend, eyes still fixated on your face, takes notice of this, smirking into your pussy as his tongue continues to trace circles onto your puffy clit. the wet muscle alternates between swirling and prodding against your mound, and finally, you’re fully conscious, sleepy eyes peering down at jongseob’s determination to please you. the salivating sight has you throwing your head back against your silky pillows, one hand silently maneuvering itself to tug at his tangerine bedhead as your hips begin to rut inconsistently against his pretty face, his pretty lips. “seob..” is all that comes out your mouth in an airy sigh, but it’s enough to convey all that you feel for the boy below you, and he’s humming into your skin in acknowledgement before pulling off of your cunt to greet you with a cocky “morning birthday girl”.

you sigh again, smiling just the slightest in disbelief, head hazy with lust and admiration. whines escape your chapped lips at various octaves, voice still a bit rough from sleep as jongseob replaces his tongue on your clit with his boyish fingers, writing out invisible x’s and o’s into the sensitive pearl, just the way you like it, just the way you’ve taught him countless of times before. he reads you just like how he reads the literature he often finds himself lost in, late at night with nothing to accompany him but his clip-on night light. he worships you as he would a jade statue. he is irrevocably yours, there is no doubt about it.

you’ve lifted your head at this point, not wanting to lose sight of your boyfriend between your tanned legs, savoring you in a way that sings “i love you”. however did you happen to find a boy so willing to give you everything you never knew you desired, everything you never knew you needed? your heart can’t help but throb for him at the thought, and you think it might just rip out of your frame and enter his own. wet beads of tears descend down your cheeks before you can even comprehend that you’ve begun to sob. jongseob, intently observing your undergoing of a plethora of emotions, senses your need to be grounded, and begins to circle his thumbs into the deep dimples of your hips whilst placing hot, warm kisses on your cunny.

another “seob..” escapes your lips, this time louder than before and oozing of desperation, and you have to hold back a laugh at the fact that you, once again, have been rendered speechless, almost as if your boyfriend has sent you into a trance. funny enough, your inability to speak with his head between your thighs is nothing new to jongseob, if his coos of “i know baby, i know” are anything to go by. you press the back of your hand against your wet face in attempt of wiping away your hot tears, just so you can really admire the view before it eventually comes to a halt. you realize the wiping does nothing to stop liquid from once again filling your eyes, blurring your vision once again as jongseob’s head becomes a flurry of muted tans and oranges in your line of sight. with no warning, he pushes two fingers past the rim of your entrance until they’re knuckle-deep, and just like that, your tumbling, falling into a state of sweet heavenly bliss as the fat of your thighs lock your boyfriend’s head in place between them. your hips gyrate sporadically against his wet fingers and tongue until you’ve ridden out the waves of your climax. you can barely hear his loud groans into your heat as he laps up every drop of release that drips onto his tongue. he’s with you through it all, grabbing onto one of your hands and binding your fingers into his own, his tight grip on your palm acting as your parachute, saving you from falling deeper and deeper into madness.

jongseob gives you a few much needed minutes to really come down from your high, but not without pushing his body back up to your level and peppering feather-light kisses all over your face, making sure to pay special attention to kissing away the glossy tear streaks that still litter your cheeks. “i love you. i love you. i love you.” he whispers into your skin in between each kiss.

“happy birthday baby.”

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© kisseobie, please do not repost my writing!

𓋜 ✶

[sunflower-lilac42]

𝗷𝗲𝗮𝗹𝗼𝘂𝘀𝘆 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗽𝘂𝗽𝗽𝘆 𝗲𝘆𝗲𝘀 | 𝘮𝘣13 ❀

➪ summary: mat surprises his girl with tickets to a baseball game but he's not expecting to be jealous and use his 'puppy eyes'

➪ warnings: mat is a little jealous/possessive boy, the slightest bit suggestive (not really), reader loves to tease mat

➪ word count: 2.0k

➪ file type: new fic

➪ sunny's notes: this is for my lovely anons who absolutely helped carry this fic. my mat, i love him sm

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Sitting in the stands of Wrigley she felt a wave of nostalgia wash over her. She hadn’t been in the stadium for a couple of years, living in New York for her new job. The stadium had a different atmosphere compared to many of the sports venues she had been to in her lifetime. The cheers felt amplified, she could make conversation with anyone around her, it was just electric. It felt amazing to be back there.

And Mat sat beside her, silently watching her as she talked about a guy, an athlete, who wasn’t him. If he had known about her fangirling he wouldn’t have bought tickets to this game, no matter how happy it made her. Well, because he wanted to be the only athlete for her. He was the only athlete for her. He sat there with a pout as she went on another rant about Nico Hoerner and Ian Happ.

She shook his arm, “Mat.”

He snapped out of his trance, eyes now focusing on the girl beside him, “Hmm?”

“You wanna go get some nachos?”

He nodded and went to stand up but she placed a hand in front of him, “No no no. Not during the inning, Maty. You gotta go between innings, can’t miss any of the action.”

Mat rolled his eyes slightly but agreed nonetheless, it did make sense to some degree. So he settled back into his seat, throwing his arm on the back of hers. She smiled at him and leaned her head against him, watching as Kyle Hendricks threw a changeup into the strike zone. The game was tied at this point and there was a runner on second. 

When both Corey Dickerson and Luis Garcia flew out to opposite ends of the outfield, she patted his chest, “I’ll go get them.”

“I’ll come with you!”

“Babe, I’m not going to be gone long. Make sure no one steals our seats.” She gave him a small kiss before walking up the stairs to the concessions. When she came back, Miles was on first and there were two outs. She sighed as she handed the nachos to Mat and sat down next to him, crossing her left leg over her right. 

“If Tauch doesn’t do anything, I might cry actually.” He chuckled and kissed her temple before taking one of the nachos.

He laughed even harder when she started singing ‘Walk it like I talk it’ softly and she looked up at him, “What? I’m just trying to  hype him up.”

While Tauchman didn’t walk, he did hit a double which caused Miles to score, so now the Cubs lead 2-1. The stadium erupted into cheers, most people clapping in happiness. The game went by, and no one scored as the innings went by. She dragged Mat to stand up to sing Take Me Out to the Ball Game with her, “For its root, root root for the Cubbies. If they don’t win it's a shame. For its one! Two! Three strikes you’re out at the old ball game.”

“Oh come on, you have to admit it’s a little fun, Mat.”

“Fine, fine, it is a little fun.”

He soon regretted that decision when the bottom of the eighth rolled around and the game was tied with Seiya, Christopher, and Miles on base. With a sac fly from Yan, everyone cheered as the Cubs now led the game. And then Tucker struck out, followed by Tauchmans walk, leaving bases loaded and a very anxious y/n as Nico stepped up to the plate.

“Mat you might have to contain me. I might lose my shit if he-” She watched as the ball ricocheted off the bat into left-center field and the stands.

She stood amongst the rest of the crowd, high-fiving everyone around her, almost in tears. She was practically shaking as she looked at a man who was a little older than her and sat on her other side, “I can’t believe I just witnessed Nico Hoerner’s first career grand slam.”

She was radiating with excitement as the ninth inning came along and Palencia got three outs, one after another. “Go Cubs Go” blared through the stadium speakers and Mat stood only out of courtesy, not because he wanted to. 

“So stomp your feet and clap your hands, Chicago Cubs got the greatest fans. Go, Cubs, Go! Go, Cubs, Go! Hey Chicago what do you say? The Cubs are gonna win today!”

Mat and y/n held hands on their way out of the stadium and he was about to breathe a sigh of relief when all of a sudden her hand was ripped from his and she was pulled off to stand with a security guard. He looked at the scene in confusion but walked over just in time to hear the end of the conversation, “...want to go to the clubhouse?”

“Yes of course!” Mat looked at her with wide eyes, how the hell did she get invited down to the clubhouse?

In truth, y/n had been coming here since she was little, having grown up in Chicago. This meant the stadium was practically a second home to her. But that wasn’t the reason she was invited down to the clubhouse. If Mat had stumbled over to the older lady and his girlfriend talking a little bit earlier, he would’ve heard a mention of Ian Happ.

Y/n never thought it was important to tell Mat about Ian, there wasn’t anything really to tell. They have been best friends since her freshman year of college. She was helping out with the baseball team at the University of Cincinnati when she and Ian got to talking and the rest was history. When she moved to New York, the two didn’t find the time to talk unless he was playing the Mets or the Yankees, and even then, it was hard to meet up. 

Mat followed the two women down the stairs and through the stadium, watching as his girlfriend talked excitedly with the other woman. Once they reached the clubhouse, y/n stood off to the side as the lady knocked on the door, making sure it was okay to enter. Luckily, whoever had happened to open the door opened it wider so the three of them could walk inside. 

The man was slightly baffled when small cheers erupted from the team as they stepped inside the clubhouse. Lots of them gave y/n side hugs or waved but then he came over. Ian scooped his girlfriend up into a huge hug to which she reciprocated, “Ian!”

“Ugh, I haven’t seen you in forever.”

Ian put her down and the two smiled at each other before she ushered Mat over, “Mat! C’mere.” 

At this point, he was starting to look like a puppy who was following his owner around helplessly. His eyes had turned into a pleading gaze and his lips formed into a pout as he made his way over to her, “Ian this is my boyfriend Mat, and Mat this is my best friend from college, Ian. We’ve known each other, what? Like almost ten years now. Wow.”

Mat only eyed the Cubs player, the two were roughly the same height so he didn’t have to look up or down, just sideways. He was about to extend his hand to shake when another unfamiliar voice made its way into the conversation, “Hey hey hey!”

He would’ve been fine with just meeting Ian, after all, they were just best friends, practically brother and sister. But Nico? He was worried about him. All he had to listen to during the game was ‘Nico this’ and ‘Nico that’ and now he had to meet him? He swore under his breath as y/n hugged him. 

“Oh! Nico this is my boyfriend Mat and Mat this is-”

“Nico, I figured.”

Y/n eyed her boyfriend oddly, looking at the look in his eyes and the pout that was forming once more. It made her grin once she realized the look, he was jealous. And she was definitely going to embarrass him for it later. If Mat was able to talk to girls all the time out at the bars, even though she knew most of the time he didn’t want to, why wasn’t she able to talk to her friends?

“So Mat actually plays hockey for the Islanders. I told you two that, right?”

Ian nodded, “Oh yeah, we came to one of your guys’ games this past season. You guys were good. Sorry about the playoffs though. We know how that feels.”

Nico agreed, “Yeah. We’ve never been the most fortunate playoff team in history.”

Mat waved them off a little, giving them a slight shake of his head and wrapping his arm around y/n’s waist pulling her closer to him. The girl laughed before looking up at the two baseball players, “How are Julia and Julie?”

“Julie’s good! Said she wants to see you again. We haven’t seen you since the wedding.”

“Wedding?”

She looked up at Mat, “Yeah remember the wedding I went to in the winter last year? That was Ian and Julie’s wedding. It was beautiful.”

He nodded and then looked at Ian before looking at Nico who had started talking, “Julia’s good too. She also mentioned hanging out soon with you guys. Maybe we could make it a triple date?”

“Oh, that sounds fun! I know you guys aren’t coming to New York this season but depending on All-Star break goes for you two we could meet up then. Or sometime before preseason starts. What do you think Maty?”

At the mention of his name, Mat looked down at her, “Hmm? Oh yeah, sure. Have to see what the schedule looks like but yeah. I’m sure we could work something out.”

The four conversed a little bit before Mat and y/n said their farewells and headed off. The walk to the car was silent, both of them looking at the buildings around them. Their hands were linked together as they walked, slightly swinging back and forth to the rhythm of their steps. Mat opened the car door for her and she slid in, gaping somewhat at the heat inside of it. 

He turned the car on and she sighed at the cool air that hit her. As Mat started driving, his hand slid over to rest on her thigh and she smirked, “I know you were jealous.”

“Jealous? Why would I be jealous?

“Mmm, I don’t know. Maybe because I was surrounded by a bunch of cute, sweaty, athletic-”

“Okay okay enough. You got me.” His grip tightened on her thigh, eyeing her out of the corner of his eye. 

She giggled, “Baby, you know I only got eyes for you.”

“I know, but-” He pouted again, coming to a stop at a red light. 

“But…” She looked at him expectantly.

“I don’t know, I just-”

“Got a little possessive?”

“Maybe.”

She held his hand, removing it from her leg, and brought it up to kiss it, “I love you, and only you. Plus, I always thought hockey players were a bit more attractive.”

“A bit?”

“I mean the puppy eyes and the little pout. Plus, they do tend to get in fights more often, and you know how much I love my fights.”

He smiled, leaning over to kiss her, “I do.”

Just as they were about to kiss the car behind them honked and startled the two of them. He groaned and turned his attention back to the road, pressing on the gas. She sighed and moved her hand to his thigh, gently squeezing it, “Don’t worry. I’ll show you how much I love you when we get back to the hotel.”

⬂ 𝗠𝗶𝘀𝗰𝗲𝗹𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗲𝗼𝘂𝘀 𝗧𝗮𝗴𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁 ⬂

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[garlicisgodsbestinvention]

perfect dimensions

(Carmy x Designer!Reader)

Summary: The Bear is weeks from opening, and Sugar hires an interior designer to bring the vision to life. Part 1/3.

Warnings: cursing, WILL contain smut later 👀NO use of Y/N because this is the 21st century. Carmy x female!reader, reader is described as having longer hair but that’s it for physical descriptions. NOT EDITED because I’m lazy girl tehe

—————————MINORS DNI——————————

“I hired a designer,” Natalie tells them in passing on Thursday, waving a vague hand when both Syd and Carmy open their mouthes to ask, “She’ll be here in like, twenty minutes.”

“Okay, heard, but we already have a design,” Carmy says, gesturing to the wall covered in layouts.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t know you had a degree in architecture and engineering. Those are fake dimensions, Bear; we don’t know shit about anything, so someone is going to come in and make sure that we’ve got the right fucking shade of white!” Natalie shouts before the office door slams shut, leaving Syd and Camry to stare after her with equal confusion.

“Pregnancy is making her…” Syd starts to say.

“Mean?”

“Yeah, mean. Definitely a little mean,” Sydney sighs, “She’s right though. Vibe doesn’t get us to opening night.”

And that’s how Carmen finds himself stuttering through an introduction from a now much-more-pleasant Natalie when she shows a woman through the front doors.

Carmen extends his hand to you, clearing his throat, nodding like a fucking idiot when you tell him your name.

“Yeah,” he says, “I’m uh, I’m Carmen.”

“Nice to meet you,” you say, mouth spreading into a smile that makes his heart beat a little faster. “Walk me through?”

Natalie takes the lead while Carmy and Syd hang back. One glance at the look on his partner’s face should have sent Carmy scrambling for something else to do, but he’s not fast enough to remove himself from her presence before a laugh is bubbling from between her closed lips and he’s desperately hoping his face isn’t turning red.

“Im, uh, Carmen,” Syd lowers her voice in a mocking tone.

“Fuck right off,” Carmy shakes his head at her.

“You literally forgot your name!”

“I didn’t forget my fuckin’ name—“

“Like oh my god, a pretty girl with pretty eyes appears and you forget how to talk!”

“Are you done?”

“Absolutely not. I can’t wait for Richie to meet her.”

Carmen wishes the day would never come.

Ten minutes later you appear back in the dining room, Fak following close behind with a shit-eating grin that makes Carmy wish he had never gotten out of bed this morning.

“Carmy! Did you know she likes to bake?”

“No, Fak, we’ve only just met. Would you let her do her job?” Carmen sighs, rubbing his fingers into his eyes to stop an oncoming headache. Syd snorts.

“We’ll chat more later, Neil, I promise,” you say.

“You might have just made yourself a new best friend,” Syd laughs.

Carmy looks away the moment your eyes swivel over to his, trying to disguise that he’s staring as best he can.

“So,” you say, “Natalie said you had drawings. May I see?”

Camry’s fingers itch in a weird way, but he manages a nod before striding over to his backpack to pull out the notebook while you scan the wall of swatches and inspiration photos. You nods your head a little, like you’re concocting an idea.

Carmy wants to twirl a finger through the strand of hair hanging loose out of your updo.

“So, uh, this is what I’ve come up with so far.”

He then spends the next ten minutes walking you through each of the drawings, explaining himself a little too thoroughly, and making random comments about lighting and booth fabric. You look intent the whole time, brow furrowed at the page, occasionally pointing and you don’t even have to say anything—Carmy just starts to over explain immediately following the point of your painted fingernail.

When he’s done, you nod your head slowly, the corner of your mouth twitching up. You’re wearing some sort of lipstick that reminds Carmy of the stain of touching a cherry pit.

“These are amazing,” you say finally, and Carmy feels his face heat. “I like the vibe. I love the vibe, actually. Are you a sensitive person?”

You look up at him and Carmy short-circuits.

Syd says yes, at the exact time he says no.

“Conflicting signals,” you say, “Anyone else to weigh in?”

It takes a second for him to realize that you’re making a joke, and he has to shake himself out of a stupor caused completely by the sight of your smile.

“Uh, no, no I’m good. Gimme feedback,” he says, and you reach out to flip the pages back, landing on the entry.

“Great. I’m going to tell you what we need to fix,” you say, straight to the point. “This entry is too small. Either we need to extend out into the sidewalk, or we need to push the kitchen back by at least five or six feet. The bar is going to create a bottleneck right here, and we need to inset these shelves to give you a little more working room. The lighting here needs to be sconces, and the bathroom doors need to slide to maximize space—this is too small for a swinging door.”

Carmen is fully intent on taking in every word you’re saying, but out of the corner of his eye he can’t help but see Syd’s face transform into something mildly resembling devious.

“Heard,” Carmy says, nodding his head as you looks back up. “Let’s rock.”

——————————————————————————

You become a fixture in Carmy’s life in the same way that Sydney or Richie or Nat are, appearing every time he turns the corner and whispering a hello in passing before you start barking orders to the contractors who listen to your every word. Strangely, he can relate. A week ago you told him, Carmen, please decide which side of the bar you want the ice machine on, and do it quickly so I can tell the water guy when he gets here. He’s never made a decision so fast in his life.

Even Nat had popped an eyebrow when he replied, on it, before you’d even really finished your sentence.

Usually, he’s on autopilot—walking in and straight back to the office or the kitchen and hardly ever stopping to notice what’s going on. He’s the first one in and the last one out by design, so he doesn’t even see everyone else arrive until they’re already there.

This morning, though, Carmy walks into the kitchen to see you already there, writing something out in a notebook as Natalie talks, waving her hands wildly.

“Okay, I got you,” you’re saying only glancing up when Carmy’s shoes shuffle too loudly on the floor. “Oh! Good, you’re here. I need you.“

Carmy raises his eyebrows. “Need me?”

“To look at paint swatches,” you say, ushering him into the main dining area. The words ring in his head like bells as he follows you, the scent of your perfume surrounding him as he walks through the crowd of it. You smells so good, and it reminds him of New York City somehow, the faint scent of rain.

He figures that you must have come in even earlier than he and Natalie both, because you’re dressed more casually than usual, and there’s a charm necklace dangling over your tee shirt that he tries to identify when you turn without you realizing he’s staring. He makes out a paintbrush and nothing else.

“Right, so,” you start, gesturing to the wall. There’s a beat of silence with them both staring at the three swatches on the wall, and then Carmy turns towards you.

Your words overlap.

Carmy says, “I hate them.”

At the same moment, you say, “They’re horrible, right?”

Carmy laughs, shaking his head. “Yeah, yeah, not it.”

“Okay, so hear me out.” You say, leaving his side to pull something from your folder. “Pink.”

“Pink?”

“Like, oyster shell pink. Neutral enough that in the low light it’ll look pale, almost indiscernible from white. And this wall—“ you point to the back where the booths will be and shake your head. “Has to be a mural. It’ll look unfinished if it’s bare.”

Carmy nods along with everything that you say, trying to envision it. “What kind of mural?”

You tilt your head, chewing at your lip. Carmy completely short-circuits for an embarrassingly long second.

“I might have some ideas,” you say in a soft voice, crossing over to the table where you’ve set your things and pulling out a black sketchbook.

“Two artists in residence, huh?” Carmy jokes, his stomach fluttering when you smile.

“Do you draw anything other than food and restaurant interiors?” You ask.

“Sometimes.”

“Sometimes,” you repeat, looking up at him. He knows that you want him to elaborate—he would never admit out loud that he spends the hours he’s not cooking trying to replicate the way your necklace hangs off of your neck and the curve of your wrist.

Occasionally he doesn’t do weird, obsessive, borderline creepy things—sometimes he sketches the buildings outside his window as the sun goes down, or tries to remember what the boat in Copenhagen looked like, or that one place he used to drink coffee at in New York.

Your eyes narrow at him just a little, like you’re trying to read all the things he’s not saying.

He dips his head, half to look at the page you’ve opened the notebook to and half to get out from under the scrutiny of your pretty eyes.

“That’s insane,” Carmy finds himself saying, looking down at the waves of color on the page. “It looks like, almost like wood? Or marble. That’s—fuck, that’s so cool.”

The page is covered in shades of brown and deep green and black, melding together into something that reminds him of tree rings or stained wood panels, muted like an old chinoiserie river painting.

“You could hire someone to change it out seasonally maybe, it’d be cool, but I think something like this would look nice with the color of the wood we picked for the tables—“

“Will you do it?” Carmy asks, fingertips tracing over the edge of the paper and coming away brushed with color—oil pastels. “Could you, I mean, I wouldn’t trust anyone else to do it like this.” He tells you, rubbing the tips of his fingers together and watching the color meld together before meeting your eye.

Your mouth is parted, eyes wide as you look at him, and he gets the urge to flick your bottom lip to see if it’s as soft as it looks.

“I,” you start to say, “Yeah. I can do it. If you want me to.”

“I do,” he says, too quickly. “Want you to. Paint it.”

Because what else would he be asking you to do? He wants to throw his entire brain into the blender on high.

“Okay,” you say, “I’ll start tomorrow.”

He makes a mental note to make sure he’s there all day to peer through the windows and watch you work.

[ronearoundblindly]

Drabble Birthday Ask!

Reader finally 'catches' the thing Steve's been hiding... it's that he's tired. He's tired, and he thinks it's non-inspiring or embarrassing or a burden, and he has been acting weird to cover for that.

Steeeeeeb!!!! Yes of course some TLC for Stevie. Excellent. Would recommend. 11 out of 10. Always give him the peace and safety! (Don't hate me though; it's just a bit of established relationship fluff!)

I am uncharacteristically skipping the part where you confront Steve about this. Yes, that's right. Remain calm. Ro has passed up the opportunity to write an argument. Hold your applause. WC idk but probably 2k or less (bit of a surprise at the end, too 🤭)

It's so easy.

It's just so damn easy to lose track, to keep going, to repeat. One more conversation. One more chore. One more hour. One more day. One more.

More. Constantly more.

Steve is very good at giving more. He is consistent, constant, incessant, but you can see now that despite his unending strength, your husband can't hide that drawn, fragile look behind his eyes any longer.

Sometimes, that's life.

"Actually, scratch that shit," Tony says with a flagrant point to your face as you chat. "Life is always like that. I know what Big Guy needs, don't you worry. Consider it sorted."

This speed-date style convo tumbles through a ten-second-savoring of tea. You got one cryptic sentence about 'how you're doing' in before Tony perfectly translates your meaning.

For once, more is unnecessary. He knows.

Stark, however, doesn't even have a moment to finish the turn up of his lips in a smile before his watch is pinged.

His eyes focus to the inside of his glasses. "Go for the World's Most Fashionable Hero," he deadpans, wandering off with his mug clasped like a lifeline in his hands.

Yeah, you know that feeling. Wit's End must be as contagious as pinkeye 'round these parts.

Steve's been silent for the last hour of the car ride. He checks the address. He checks the map. He checks the road. That's it.

Music he usually hates has been playing for fifty-one minutes and counting. No reaction.

Clearly, you were right to ask Stark for help.

The gravel drive up to the cabin is bumpy, and Steve apologizes for having to go so slowly.

"Almost there. I think it's--yeah, there. Okay, we're here." Your husband flips the key back and out of the ignition, a stunted sigh forcing it's way past his tight shoulders, immediately opening the door and heading for the trunk. "I'll get the bags. You get the--"

"Steve? Will you come with me for a sec?"

He looks at you--really sets his eyes on you--for the first time since loading the car.

"What's wrong?"

You crunch up to the short staircase to the long porch. "Just come up here, please."

It takes another wave of your hand in encouragement before Steve abandons the small duffels and totes. He's not used to leaving a man behind. He's got a mission. He's supposed to finish the job. Always one more thing.

More. Constantly more. That's Steve's life, and he does it without complaint. Never, ever complaining, even when he should.

His heavy, tired feet fall hollowly on the wood.

"We're starting now," you chirp, excited to surprise him.

Steve tips his bodyweight to lean on the banister, crossing his ankles before crossing his arms, his head down while sneaking a squint-and-blink to try and bounce his energy back.

"Sure, what's first on the list?"

"Oh, no," you correct. "The list is mine. Those are my activities for the weekend. You are here."

His brow furrows. "What? You're gonna--"

"Steve." You gently hold onto his arms. "I mean, you have nothing to do. Not a single thing. And I don't care where you do it, but you will be doing nothing all weekend. Sleep in the bed, on the couch, on the dingy over there, hell, right here on the porch swing. It doesn't matter. It's your rest, but you must rest."

"What about--"

"Nope."

"Or if--"

"Uh-uh, definitely not."

Steve looks slightly panicked. "Dinner?" he tries in a last-ditch effort to be useful every minute of every day.

"There is a bag of stuff that I will be dumping into a crockpot and walking away from, so, no, you can't do that either."

He's still not sure, eyes glassy and flickering about.

"There's fruit for breakfast, veggies and dip for snacks, and we don't have to even turn on the stove unless we want to. Now--" you release him "--I'm putting stuff away and--"

Steve opens his mouth to argue.

"--and not one word out of you. Not one, sweets. Go. Be free. Sleep. Stare at the water, or a wall, or the ceiling for all I care, but you have nothing else to do today. Okay?"

His eye twitches, a half-hearted glare melting into a challenge in his tight jaw.

"Okay???" you prod.

His hands fling out in defeat. "You told me not to say a word," he whines, automatically making his way back down the stairs.

"No bags," you scold.

He whips around, almost muttering.

"No bags." You rush down and past him toward the car. "And I will bring you looser clothes to sleep in."

"You--"

"AH!"

"But--"

"What did I just say, Rogers?"

Now he just looks petulant, a familiar mood in your household.

You stubbornly point to the cabin. "Go on. Git!"

He watches you bring in the mindfully-light bags you packed up for the trip, pouting and scowling in equal measure.

Steve has to show off at least once by snatching up a bit of potato that rolled across the counter in the transfer of dinner.

Instead of thanking him, you shove a t-shirt and thin sweats at his chest.

He fakes an oof of surprise and traps you for a quick kiss before going to change. He does leave you alone for the rest of setting up.

Steve is dead asleep on the deep, two-seater porch swing when you head to the little work shed, his knees bent so he faces in, his forehead buried in cushion to block out daylight, already snoring softly.

You have to hold your hands to your chest so as not to touch him. Tears of joy prick your eyes seeing him relax so quickly.

Steve can follow orders when he wants to, you think with a smile.

In the garden shed, Pepper has all the cool crafting things, and you putz around with some wood pieces and paints for a couple of hours. You walk the perimeter of the cabin to find some nice wildflowers for a table centerpiece, mixing delicate stems of blue buds with expansive wisps of white and little pops of yellow. You attempt to figure out the dingy but decide against going on the water alone yet. Maybe tomorrow.

At no point does Steve move.

When you walk up to the house, fist full of flowers, he's out cold, softly swaying in the breeze as the gusts pick up in the afternoon.

You snack and listen to music in your headphones, doze in the bed after the sun warmed you a little too much, and then wake to the smell of stew.

The beep of the crockpot wakes him.

Bedhead and pillow mishmarks on his cheek look great on Steve Rogers.

Without argument, he washes his hands and sits at the reclaimed wood table.

Steve says only two things:

"Thank you" when you set a large bowl in front of him, and "can you pass the salt?" after he taste-tests the meal.

He reads a book until falling asleep for the night with you, curled with his knees bent again.

He does well.

He keeps resting, multiple times with his book open on his chest, barely to halfway after hours and hours of holding on to the browning paperback pages.

He rests in the bed. He rests on the couch. He rests (again) on the porch swing. Finally, he rests in your lap while you both float on the lake in the dingy.

He rests with you by his side. He rests with you in his arms. He rests even when you leave to do something else. It's exactly what you wanted, what he needed, and how it should be.

Steve mumbles a fair few things, but the most important thing is that none of it is important enough to articulate. He doesn't have to talk. He doesn't have to be heard. He doesn't have to be understood.

He only has to rest, and he's following orders well. He's completing his mission.

It is truly fascinating how close you can feel without words--okay, so you two aren't completely non-verbal for the weekend, but there are no long conversations. After being married for a while, those are not entirely necessary. You know each other too well for all that; Steve simply feels the stigma of being weak and tired from his youth.

He holds himself to a different, impossible standard. He thinks of it as pushing the limits of his serum, as offering everything he has to others, as respecting those he cares for by shouldering burdens. You think it's stupid.

It is the only stupid thing Steve Rogers does.

Now, after days of resting, you're pretty sure Steve knows he was being stupid.

You hope he knows he can ask for help or a break whenever he wants, before he needs it this badly.

To your great delight, Steve gathers up his things that were left around the house, but he leaves the actual packing to you. This is very helpful in keeping the final surprise.

He's watching the water, sitting up in the porch swing for once with an arm thrown over the back, an easy, calm smile stretched across his face, the first you've seen in months if you're being honest.

Steve gestures for you to join him, but you bite your lip and check the gravel drive.

Exactly on schedule, an engine revs and wheels crackle over the gravel.

You wink at your husband just as excited shouts ring out from Tony's fancy car.

"Papa! Papa! Look what Morgan and I found at the beach!"

"I made you a seashell necklace, Momma. You, too, Pops."

Your children race up the porch steps and jump into the space below Steve's arm.

His smile is still easy, but perhaps a little more excited than calm.

More. Constantly more.

But it's not all tiring...

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555

@yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory

@brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn

@late-to-the-party-81 @bigtreefest @mistressmkay

@rogersbarber @bucky-fricking-barnes-reads @fallinallinmendes

[malleleothreesome]

Fellow Honest Drunken Confession Feat. Playful Land Cast

(Ch.1 & Ch.2)

🌟 summary: Rewriting the end of Playful Land event where instead of Fellow Honest running away, he tries to convince you and your classmates to go out drinking with him. Cause he's super into you. ༶༶༶ 🌟 warnings: gender neutral reader, SFW so far (undecided on the end), fluff, romance. This is a slice of life comedy. You're just gonna have to go into it blind. Take my word for it. You're gonna love it. If you don't, don't tell me. All characters assumed to be of legal drinking age besides Gidel. ༶༶༶ 🌟 inspired by: this ask from @omo-kitty thank you! ♡✧*:･ﾟ

🌟 song: Trust Fund "Oh, where, oh, where is my trust fund? Why can't I get ahead? 'Cause I have to work My daddy's such a jerk For not givin' me all his cash" ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 4.7k

Fellow Honest lets out an exasperated sigh, perched next to you and your classmates as the massive cruise ship that housed Playfulland amusement park sinks into the ocean’s abyss. With his hands clasped behind his head, a carefree grin lights up his face. 

"You know what?" He asks, turning to you. 

His fox ears twitch atop his head as a salty breeze sifts through his orange hair. Night was encroaching, a half moon suspended in the starry sky, pale and glowing. You stare back into his face, noting the visible points of his fangs, and the tip of his curly orange tail swishing happily. 

Fellow winks as he laughs his signature haughty cackle. "Do you want to grab a drink sometime?"

Ace Trappola perks up at the mention of alcohol and barrels forward, face beaming with naivety. "Hey, free drinks? You're talking to the right person, Man. You gonna let us drink free? I mean, it's like, the least you could do for trying to traffic us, am I right?" 

Trey Clover hisses, “Ace!!!” in a desperate (and failed) attempt to shut him up. 

Fellow regards the spectacle with the blankest of stares, his ear flicking as a whisper of a wince flickers across his visage.

The monster of a man tilts his head and smiles slyly to you—and only you. 

His eyes sweep you up and down as he croons, "just you and me, Hot Stuff. We're talking romantic, steamy even. We’re connected… don't deny it. Whaddaya say?" 

Fellow steps closer, tongue running along his canines as he looks you up and down with a cheeky grin and a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. "You, me, alone, drinking, talking... I'll be real good to you—I'm an honest guy! All my business is legit now!" 

He throws his head back, and with a flourish of his arms, roars with a particularly raucous laughter. Upon composing himself, his piercing orange eyes turn sharp, and he flashes you another lecherous look. A smirk plays on the corner of his lips, an eyebrow rises suggestively. Fellow leans to whisper in your ear, lingering in the electricity of your aura a bit too long before speaking. You shiver. 

His voice drops to a low, suggestive purr as hot breath grazes your neck, "but, if you like, a little bit naughty ain't out of the question... "

Before you can respond, Ace—unable to be subdued by Trey—makes his way back over and elbows you in the arm. As clueless as ever, his freckled cheeks flush bright pink from excitement. 

"Free drinks, Bro! He's an underworld mobster, Dude—a high ranking one—we'll be VIPs anywhere we go. We’ll be sipping absolute top shelf… not that gross, warm piss from a barrel everyone else gets!" 

Ace is giving the performance of his lifetime, gripping his heart and holding out his arms in utter theatrics, then leaning heavily on your shoulder. 

"Free… top shelf… liquor!" Ace shouts to the rest of your classmates, waving them over.

Fellow's eyebrow elevates further, threatening to leave the confines of his forehead. His eyes remain dead, cold. His tail, for once, stays perfectly still, frozen in an upright arch. When his lips part in a rigid smile and his shoulders begin to shake, a venomous displeasure radiates from him, palpable enough for you to feel on your own skin. Out of his mouth spills a jumble of fragmented curse words and giggles. You look at him in mild alarm, unsure if he has finally reached a state of losing his goddamn mind, or if he's about to commit a violent murder—starting with Ace.

Fellow holds up both gloved palms, covering his face. Slowly shaking his head, he doubles over, wiping away tears of hysteria in an uproarious guffaw. You are stunned, staring as Fellow wheezes and struggles to get ahold of his faculties. 

Catching his breath, he throws back his head and bellows with unrestrained joy, "The sheer audacity! The unmitigated gumption of this fool—oh my GOD.”

In a valiant effort to calm himself, he holds up his hands, as if praying, a wicked grin plastered across his face. Ace squints suspiciously at his antics, still totally clueless to Fellow's intent. Trey shakes his head slowly, rubbing his face in abject defeat, looking as if he's willing his brain to purge the trauma of ever coming to this place. 

Fellow breathes deeply. "Sorry, sorry, it's just funny, oh my God. Wow. He has some balls on him, I'll give him that! I really admire the gall. You know what? This brat might have a career in the biz." The fox beastman reaches out and condescendingly ruffles Ace's head of red hair.

"Alright, tough guy. Yeah, let's go get boozed. And hey, little Bastard—" his fiendish grin takes a more sinister tone, fangs slightly exposed. "Just so you know, if your pathetic college didn't send that sweetheart…” He winks suggestively at you, before his eyes wander across the crowd of students, utterly unimpressed, “I'd never be letting any of you idiots go. No way! I’d have dragged each of you back to my boss by force. Don't test my generosity or my kindness." 

Smirking, he shoves his finger into Ace's face, leaning towards him with intent to intimidate.

Fellow takes a sharp inhale and clasps his hands shut. "Now, just for fun, let's get liquored up on the highest rooftop bar, play some poker, do a little dancing..." His eyes flit back over to you— "...maybe some smooches, hey?" A foxy yip punctuates his sentence. His eyes return back to Ace, whose lips are pressed in a firm, disapproving line. Fellow's eyebrow twitches with delight as he takes in Ace's defiance, biting his lip for a second so as not to cackle.

"There isn't going to be any 'VIP treatment,' 'free drinks,’ or 'top shelf.' Is that clear? Who do you think I am? You think I like doing that type of shit?" 

He points to the water, gesturing to the decimated remnants of the amusement park. "I'll let you in on a little secret, Kid, people don't do those types of jobs because they're loaded.” 

He leans down to get eye level with Ace, using expressive jazz hands and a pompous voice. “'Oh, man, my yacht's all paid off and ready, better become a goddamn kidnapping organ trafficker—oh, the glamor! The luxury!' Do you understand what I'm saying, you dinky little shit?"

You can't help it—you burst out laughing. His grin returns full force, and he winks at you knowingly. He looks back to your classmates, and you consider his movements. The pure self-assurance in his stride, his careless and brazen attitude, his cheeky cockiness—intricate pieces of exactly what drew you to him initially. While his irreverence for any societal construct has both scared and enamored you, the sheer madness he exhibits on a regular basis is so addictive. How could you deny a guy with this level of audacity? You really, really want to give it a whirl—experiment with what might be if you throw caution to the wind.

His smile grows, noting the chagrin across your classmate's faces. Fellow gestures dramatically once more, his gloved hands clawing through the air, his gesticulations growing increasingly overzealous as he waxes poetic on the harsh realities of adult life. 

"So, listen up. Listen very carefully. Picture this: I'm poor. I'm scrappy. I was homeless. I don't even own the suit you're seeing right now! My clothes are stolen off the street." His expression darkens, ears and tail drooping, shoulders slumped, and head lowered. For a fleeting, transitory instant, there's an indiscernible emotion that flickers through his eyes—something genuine that betrays his frivolity. "That boy is the only family I have, and we've got nothing to our name."

He stares forward at something only he can see, his gaze boring a hole into the horizon. It is a wistful, haunted gaze, a longing and lost memory in his eyes, a sad sigh that drifts on a gentle summer breeze, lost within its dreams. "Not a single thing. Just the two of us, struggling and barely making ends meet, scraping by in this horrible, unforgiving, greedy world that cares not for the innocent and goodhearted folk. We need to be greedy. Selfish, if we want to keep each other safe. So, excuse me for being just a tad on the offensive side, you entitled fucking brats! I had to be the strongest so I could support the both of us. You truly know nothing about suffering—this isn't a pretty life to have and it isn't fair, yet, what can you do? Adapt, or die. There is no romanticism about hunger, about living like animals, constantly scrambling for scraps of food like the world is a bottomless garbage can and you are its filthiest dog." The sardonic chuckle he gives isn't unkind, merely tinged with bittersweet longing. You reach a hand out, resting it on his shoulder, and his fingers close over it with a soft caress.

There's a touch of vulnerability in his eyes, and his words strike a cord that resonates deeply within your soul. Though it hurts and grieves you, his explanation was enough for you—a starting point of understanding, as you accept him exactly for who he is. You see beyond the facade—the sheer intensity of the desperation that underlines his words and actions, that hollowness within him that yearns for more than the world can provide. 

Fellow seemed to awaken with greater purpose when you looked into his soul and told him he didn't have to do bad things. Something shifts in his eyes as he considers new paths. You see the stitches holding his tattered spirit together loosen slightly, revealing glimpses of his raw wounds, the aches and scars that he buries with sarcasm and callousness. His vibrant, intelligent, playful nature deserves more—his life isn't meant to be wasted, yet he feels as if that's precisely what he has done, resigning himself to this existence of bitter hatred against the world. When you meet his gaze, you feel a tenderness blooming in the chilly winter frost of his chest, like the first glimpse of spring. At last, you can sense the farce crumble, and the real Fellow taking shape underneath. You wish you could spend the rest of the evening talking to him. 

Fellow's fingers remain intertwined with yours as the moment passes and his flirtation returns. There is an uncanny ease with which the man is able to keep his expression blank while swapping personalities, as if each identity is a costume he wears as long as it suits him. A fleeting look of sadness drifts over him before being replaced by his cheeky, foxy smirk. He reasserts the cocky, irreverent demeanor—his favorite cloak. His orange eyes flit towards yours before gazing into the crowd of your classmates. You squeeze his palm reassuringly, and he beams down at you with gratitude. His finger swipes across your cheek, gently brushing it.

Fellow smiles his carefree smile, but there's a warmth and gentleness behind his orange gaze now. 

"All that being said,'' the beastman claps his hands together, grinning widely and putting on another showman's performance, "I bet I could do a little persuading to get us some free booze. We're going drinking, my new friends!" He throws his hands up jovially. 

A chorus of voices in front of him ring out in dissonance at the thought, except for Ace—who is whooping and hollering triumphantly, and Kalim, who is cheering in earnest. Before the rest of your classmates have time to voice their objections, Fellow shouts out, pointing at everyone, a finger dramatically extending in the air.

"Ah, ah ah—none of your whining and sniveling bullshit, you snot-nosed punklings. We're all getting our rocks off tonight and it's on me. Consider this the apology tour for almost making you all... well, go into involuntary servitude, to put it lightly." 

The corner of his lips twitch as his orange eyes scan the crowd for recognition, yet remain friendly despite his teasing. 

"Besides, a celebration is due! What I learned tonight was so startling to me—I did not foresee myself going down an honest path, a career in helping the helpless. This is truly life-altering, and it's all thanks to you folks." 

Another moment of vulnerability flickers in his eyes and his mouth is slack, letting the raw honesty and realization of change settle. A stunned silence from the crowd ensues.

Flailing his arms wildly to keep up and air of lightheartedness, Fellow huffs, the first signs of exertion finally showing. He was beaten up pretty badly while trying to detain your classmates, after all. He continues his pitch. 

"Of course, no hard feelings or anything. Just a nice fun night, free drinks, music, laughter—how could any of you possibly turn down such a gift?" 

With a grin and a gesture to the amusement park's busted entrance gate, he declares his final verdict. 

"It is your final day off before a lifetime of school, study, stress and commitment to society—your youth is ending, friends. Embrace this wonderful last sunset of freedom—because by tomorrow, we will all be under the yoke of labor, spending our lives slaving away to pay rent while we deal with taxes and the true horror of capitalism! At least, those without trust funds, right? Hah." 

Once more, your classmates all clamor with protests. 

"Like Hell I’m goin’ out drinking with that guy! Don't take orders from that shady jackass," Leona roars through the crowd.

Fellow’s scowls, tail swishing vehemently back and forth. 

"Ya just met him yesterday and he was about to sell us all off! Does a sociopath's Nice Guy act not make you the least bit suspicious or even nervous? Don't fall for it. No one's that forgivin' or stupid." Leona stares coldly at the conman with an indignant sniff as he crosses his arms over his broad chest.

Vil stands with his arms crossed as well, but his posture and expression exude boredom as he blows out an annoyed exhale, visibly judging his idiot classmates. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with Leona once again," he chimes in, ignoring the aggravated huff from the Savanaclaw dorm leader. "Our kidnapper is insistent on buying us drinks? Who does that?! Clearly, this guy has something up his sleeve." Vil clicks his tongue derisively, and flicks his purple hair over his shoulder in dismission.

Floyd, ignoring the forewarnings entirely, throws his arms up happily. He bellows, "hell yeah! What's better than a night of heavy partying to lighten up the mood, right? Bring it on. There's alcohol involved? It’s free? I’m in." He giggles maniacally, wrapping an arm around Fellow to pull him in for an enthusiastic noogie (and completely ignoring the pained squeaks coming out of the conman's mouth). Floyd’s twin brother, Jade, grins in agreement to the proposal.

Trey adjusts his glasses nervously, brows knitting and mouth stuck in a grimace. He opens mouth and closes his mouth a few times before suggesting, with trepidation, “it is... quite unusual for him to take us out drinking all of a sudden... are we sure this isn't some sort of trap, or a game, or—"

Trey is cut off by a loud groan from Ace. "Weren't you guys paying attention?!" Ace shakes his head rapidly and scoffs with derision. "He's obviously trying to get into Y/n's pants! The guy's totally thirsty! How are you not seeing this? He was checking Y/n out when he was doing all that crazy shit in the amusement park." 

A tense moment of silence falls across your class as they turn their heads towards you, eyeing you with surprise. "He's been hitting on the prefect this entire time! His weird-ass obsession is for real—no joke or scam. He's interested, I know it when I see it. He knows Y/n's not gonna go unless he takes all of us. So, like... yes, of course I'm into free beer!" 

Ace's red eyes gleam like he's just discovered the polio vaccine, proud of his insightfulness and intellect. The other students look back and forth between you and the notorious criminal fox beastman, noting his nonplussed smirk, calm tail wagging, and the way in which his ears prick up in excitement at the conversation about you.

Another uncomfortable moment passes. Your cheeks feel warm, knowing everyone's eyes are still on you, but you can’t bring yourself to meet them. 

Kalim claps his hands together and chirps, "oh yeah, come to think of it, he does seem like he's super fond of you! All his cute talk and that sparkle he gets in his eyes when he looks at you and listens to your every word—he clearly really, really likes you, Y/n! That's totally awesome you found someone special in such a dark place!" 

Kalim is—almost comically—unaffected by Fellow's unsavory reputation. "And isn't it great if he's truly starting down a righteous path instead of being a bad criminal who hurts and steals from people? We've got to support him, this could be his fresh start! We're his friends, and that's what friends are for—they help each other out. We'll save him from evil!" 

Kalim is positively beaming now, his energy infectiously reassuring and radiant. "I’m looking forward to a fun night, count me in!" 

Leona scrunches up his face and screws his eyes shut before looking into the distance. It’s as if his consciousness has departed, from the sheer idiocy of this conversation. 

“How much has that fuckin' clown got you brainwashed already to make you spout such delusions of grandeur?!" He gapes at Kalim's relentless positivity. "C'mon Jack, we're goin' back. They can handle themselves." Without a backward glance, he walks away, trusting that the freshman will follow suit.

With a short sigh of resignation and a brief incline of his head, Jack follows along in his dorm leader's wake. "Sorry, guys," he murmurs. "I gotta agree with my Housewarden. Something doesn't feel right. Hope to see you all later." The wolf man turns his back and trots to catch up with Leona.

Fellow wears an indecipherable expression as he watches them leave. The muscles around his eye twitch slightly and an ear has flattened against his hair in annoyance. Though Fellow is doing his level best to remain unaffected by the sour reactions, a tiny tendril of disappointment wavers briefly over his features. His resolve steels, yet he keeps his smile, resolutely ignoring their mutterings as his fox tail sweeps side to side. His body language remains relatively casual and open, save for a subtle defensive set in his posture and shoulders. He stands a little taller in an attempt to maintain his cool.

Vil scoffs and walks over to the gate, holding up his perfectly manicured hands in mock surrender. "There's no amount of liquor on the planet worth suffering his disgusting presence or getting tangled in whatever diabolic schemes he's attempting. He's a repugnant vagabond with nothing but deceit and manipulation oozing from his vile, malicious tongue. Y/n, you can do far better—really, anyone with a proper background and education instead of someone from the fringes of society who can't even feed himself." 

With a flip of his hair, Vil sniffs dismissively. He gives you one last look of disapproval before strolling away in search of a less irritating place to be.

Ace begins to panic, feeling his chance at free drinks slipping through his fingers. "Wai- Wait- wait, WAIT—everybody STOP," Ace frantically exclaims in desperation. "Come back, you can't just leave! Come on! There’s free alcohol at stake here! Please?! Dammit. UGH!" 

Vil's words seemed to hit home. Fellow's unbreakable poker face crumbles as his ears pull down flat against his scalp. His tail stiffens, lowering between his legs in utter humiliation. The fox beastman swallows thickly as the tides of his happiness drain. Gidel scurries up to Fellow and places a hand gently on his back to console his guardian. Fellow tries to plaster a makeshift grin back on, but his pain bleeds through, brow furrowed and eyes darting, suddenly unable to meet your gaze.

Ace blinks and smiles awkwardly before muttering, "Well, now I actually feel pretty bad." His freckled face reddens slightly, cheeks taking on a darker tinge of rose as the color creeps out to his ears. A soft, self-conscious laugh tumbles from his mouth. He runs a hand through his copper-red hair, clearly caught somewhere between guilt and shame—internal conflict is evident. 

Despite all the flippant, disrespectful comments, teasing and general disregard Ace has shown Fellow, this complete and public emotional breakdown appears to hit Ace harder than he'd care to admit, and perhaps—just maybe—a faint sense of kinship forms at the connection he sees between himself and the conman. Two jovial and clownish individuals—born entertainers. Suddenly, this moment strikes Ace more so than anything else Fellow has said or done thus far, leaving the redhead oddly touched. It’s as if his own heart was personally struck by the kind, selfless soul Fellow seems to be deep down, no matter how hard the foxman tries to keep it buried.

"Listen, man," Ace smiles shyly, shifting from foot to foot with his thumbs stuck in his belt loops. "You know, even if nobody else says it, I, uh... Well... If you're going straight," Ace chuckles, clearing his throat, "like you say, then you're pretty cool. Besides, all your antics are pretty funny. And... The way you really care for him..." Ace stares with admiration, nodding his head towards Gidel, voice low with reverence. His cheeks are completely red now, unable to formulate words, just awkwardly shuffling around trying to escape his own embarrassment. 

"You're a... a really good big brother. You know," He sputters, blinking and glancing to the side before slowly looking back at Fellow, and then you. "So... Just forget about Vil's stupid bullshit and move on. Because..." He pauses for a second before nodding assuredly, his confidence growing. "Because you've got plenty to give! It might not feel like it, and sometimes there will be a moment where all seems lost..."

You shake your head in disbelief. Had Ace just openly spoken words of wisdom? Such kind words, too—from him of all people! That, surely, is the sign of an actual miracle happening, since Ace, your dearest friend, is not typically one for… sincerity. ‘Shocking’ would be an understatement. Ace's friendly gaze causes Fellow's orange eyes to grow glassy. Your classmates, equally as stunned, stare at Ace in open astonishment.

Ace presses on with his impromptu speech, conveying the utmost sincerity, "You've got to be strong and push past your misfortune, and not allow yourself to think you're not worthy of love or care." His smile grows warmer and he turns his face to you, making brief eye contact before casting his gaze back towards Fellow. "I just know that somewhere out there, a happy life awaits you... and maybe... there's someone wonderful to share it with."

Now why would Ace allude to you when you haven't even decided your feelings yet? You quickly turn around to conceal the rising flush in your cheeks. You’re somewhere between mortified and thrilled for Ace to publicly express his support of your romance. Nerves flood your stomach—the anticipation, the prospect of falling in love has made you equal parts anxious and giddy. A mixture of euphoria and despair hits you all at once—how beautiful to acknowledge your affections for the fox man—yet, can you commit?

You look over at Cater and mouth with abject horror: 'What the fuck is going on?'

Cater looks thoroughly entertained by the entire event, flashing you a thumbs up. He bites his lower lip, silently giggling to himself. He snaps a picture of you on his phone—the audacity.

Cater mouths back, “looks like someone has a cru-ush.” 

Your face displays all of your confusion. “Stop—shh—be serious, this is real,” you whisper, stifling a tiny, strained giggle and putting an end to the banter by sternly holding out your index finger.

This is too much—too fast—you feel helpless, swept up in the stormy waves of fate and romance. One single day has dragged on and on, as if stretched forever by the overwhelming events of your trip. Even Fellow's unexpected change of heart is but a fleeting part of some fever dream—it couldn’t have all been real. An insane whirlwind romance, a kidnapping, a deadly amusement park, and a desperate con artist—who you’ve become increasingly drawn to. This has been one of the strangest experiences of your entire life.

Glancing quickly over your shoulder, you catch Gidel grinning and bouncing happily, his eyes bright with energy, seemingly thrilled at the idea of you and Fellow becoming partners. His excitement is contagious, and it only adds fuel to the fire in your heart. To know the little boy holds high hopes for the two of you—maybe something is already blooming? Blood pounds in your veins and a tightness builds in your chest, causing your heartbeat to drum ever faster as Fellow takes a step toward you.

He gently turns you to face him. His grip is strong, yet soft. A twinge of hope tugs at the corners of his lips, though his posture betrays his vulnerability and fear of rejection. His interest in you is palpable, and the seriousness of the impending moment makes you want to run away. As hesitant as you are to admit it, you definitely feel a connection to this man—one beyond lust. A deeper bond transcends physical attraction, as if your hearts are bound, stitched with a million red puppet strings of fate. With each pump of blood, another thread pulls taut, drawing the two of you closer together.

You're nervous, embarrassed, and entirely unsure of what you want. In an attempt to stall, you address your remaining classmates. "Well, I sure could use a drink right now! How about it?" Slight panic italicizes your statement.

Ace raises his hands in the air with triumph. "Fuck yeah," he laughs, looking around eagerly. Cater looks relieved to have the perfect excuse to drink a ridiculous amount of booze without getting nagged by Riddle for acting inappropriate. Trey sighs deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose in a strained manner, as if resisting another stress-related aneurysm. He nods with resignation that he won't be back at Heartslabyul any time soon, committing himself to making sure none of the trouble-making underclassmen get up to their usual antics of havoc, mayhem and chaos. You catch Trey mutter, "I will definitely regret this," to himself, but you still allow a surge of gratitude wash over your anxious heart at his kind gesture.

Lilia's laughter rings out, the night breeze sweeping back his hair to reveal a playful grin. "The Pop Music Club is always down for a fun time. This will be the perfect opportunity for me to show Kalim and Cater how to really party! Oh, what a splendid evening this will be," he gleams, patting his clubmates heartily on the shoulders. They both gulp, nervous about his declaration.

The gentle moonlight reflecting off the ocean catches Lilia's irises in a breathtaking display of shimmering crimson. In a flash, he materializes in front of Fellow, nearly scaring the poor fox out of his skin. Lilia's lips are curled in a wide, sly smile and he stares deep into his soul. 

After a moment of silence, he narrows his eyes and clicks his tongue, stepping forward and speaking conspiratorially. "But tell me the truth. What really is the score on this entire set-up?" The sinister, terrifying nature Lilia exhibits makes Fellow's ears tremble and tail swish madly in defense, eyes large and alert. Fellow lets out a nervous yelp, frozen as the staring contest commences. After what appears to be some type of mental standoff, the vampire's demeanor eases. 

Lilia puts a comforting arm around Fellow and hugs him to his side, eyes glowing brighter. "Ah, young love! So fun to watch! You two have my blessing," Lilia beams at the stupefied Fellow, whose ears still lay flat against his scalp in terror. His tail is tucked tightly between his legs in an act of submission, a concession of defeat.

With that, your classmates trail out of the boardwalk, away from the ruins of the defunct Amusement Park. Their loud banter fills the night air, a jovial cacophony of nonsense and delirium. Fellow places one hand between Gidel's shoulder blades to gently guide him along, and he extends his other to you, silently inviting you to interlace your fingers with his. His expression is relaxed and expectant—but his eyes show his nerves. His smooth, gloved palm envelops your hand and together, the three of you follow your classmates.

🌟 song: Violence (Club Mix) - Grimes ༶༶༶ 🌟 word count: 1.8k

The dark streets of the city are lit in an amber glow from the many shops that stay open late, with neon signs boasting special deals and hot food creating a gorgeous rainbow of flashing colors in the night. Bustling crowds move briskly, pouring in from all directions. They mill around, eager to engage in the nightlife of the entertainment district, excited to partake in their desired sins. You follow a group of partygoers through an arching entranceway that has the phrase 'Hell's Den' lit above the metalwork in garish crimson lights. Passing underneath the grand entrance and entering the gaudy exterior is another world of sound, color and light—a vibrancy not meant for the meek. The entirety of the complex is covered with glowing tiles, casting a radiant aura in such a dazzling fashion it reminds you of a place in your home world: Las Vegas.

Welcoming aromas of cigarettes, alcohol, and cheap cologne, and the buzzing, neon atmosphere draws a content sigh from Fellow. The wide array of faces passing by—all of them new and shining with happiness, seeking to escape their own respective realities. There is something inspiring about this bustling den of iniquity. The electricity that percolates within the underground is like a shot of adrenalin. It's pure magic. It is no wonder all of this serves as an irresistible lure for those craving freedom. In this night-city, any sinner can find solace.

As you pass the main foyer of Hell's Den, an enormous set of double doors lies ahead. Three large, burly bouncers loiter at the entrance and peer closely at you all.

"Now what do we have here?" the bouncer booms, zeroing in on Gidel. The bouncer points towards the kid, accusatory. "Ain't he a little young for this joint?"

All heads turn towards Gidel, who stands proud and fearless in the face of these mountainous men. While most everyone else shifts nervously, Gidel plants his little hands on his hips and looks up at the bouncers unabashed, pursing his lips in an indignant pout and giving an extra little sassy bob of his head. He stands his ground with the cold, fierce and commanding presence of someone much older. The way his stance radiates authority, even in the face of danger, is both admirable and comical. The usual slouching and youthfulness of his mannerisms and body language are totally eradicated as the imperious stare he fixes on the bouncers bears down. Gidel is a fearless soldier—a fiercely determined, stalwart pillar in the face of adversity, daring the guards to deny him passage.

"You wound me, good sir," Fellow puts a gloved hand to his heart in a mock sign of hurt. "Of course, he is of drinking age. How insulting!" He levels them with his withering orange gaze. The muscle men shift uneasily at his silent challenge—the cocky facade is his customary tactic for warding off hostilities before they could grow and take root. "This here," he grabs the glowering Gidel, patting the child proudly on the head, "is the eldest of our party." The bouncers look at each other, then at the boy, then back to Fellow. The sheer absurdity of Fellow's statement is undeniable—no reasonable person would buy it.

Fellow goes on. "Cater, are you seeing this shit? Discrimination, in this day and age? Put these nitwits on blast," Fellow gestures to Cater's phone, and Cater begins filming. Gidel points aggressively at the bouncer, shaking his little index finger with the might of his wrath, as Fellow declares loudly, "I want everyone to know—this place is not welcome to those of different social stations, based on age or appearance. This is preposterous!" He turns his attention back to the bouncers, widening his arms to the gathering crowd.

"Bigotry, ageism, it's so awful! No wonder Gidel hides the fact that he's over 2,000 years old. Now I see why the man refuses to share the wisdom he's collected, the amazing anecdotes and experiences, and the undeniable brilliance he could impart upon the world—instead, he hides, ashamed, all due to the abuse he receives on a daily basis from these types of buffoons!" 

The surrounding individuals stare in stunned silence. "It's not Gidel who is the child here, but all of you. People should not be judged so harshly due to their appearance. Everyone should be accepted—their ideas, actions, and experiences embraced with respect, despite physical differences that set them apart. Everyone must be loved and appreciated, for there are precious gems everywhere we look in this beautiful world. The rich, diverse community of people who inhabit this planet should be able to share with all, learn from one another and work together in unity, free to be who they are without harassment!"

The neon light catches fresh tears running down various faces in the crowd. To add further insult to the bouncers’ injuries, Royal Sword Academy's Seven Dwarves—who happened to be waiting to get into the same bar—stare daggers at the gatekeepers and gather near Gidel in solidarity. Their angry, diminutive stature radiates powerful force when unified against a common enemy—it is truly a frightening sight to behold.

In one single swoop, Fellow swings public opinion in Gidel’s favor, inciting rage to right the wrong. The fervor of the crowd continues to rise. "Please, show our precious elder the respect he deserves. Do not look at him and see a mere child—look into his eyes to the aged visage beneath." His orange gaze bores into the guards. "Can you not sense his inner radiance, the power and splendor of his soul, and the treasures locked away within? Don't allow your prejudices and expectations to hold him back. Or you, for that matter. The sheer fact of his youthful appearance is no obstacle to greatness! And as long as you carry this narrow-minded sentiment, you will forever be barred from ever knowing the greatest secrets of the universe. Remember, folks! In the end, it isn't your status, money, or popularity that ultimately leads to a better future! It's our kindness, compassion, and tolerance." The conman punctuates his powerful speech with a satisfied swish of his fluffy tail, and the crowd cheers wildly in approval.

Cater is eating this up. His thumbs frantically type out a lengthy post that ends with his signature sparkling diamond hashtags, creating the most glorious online discourse. 

Trey is lost in thought, muttering to himself, "he does have the right idea, maybe he'd make a good Headmage after all." 

Kalim stares intently, with a faraway gleam in his eye, utterly entranced by Fellow. He’s just about ready to sign up for a personal tutoring session on the topic of the Universal Principles. 

The rest of your classmates have the most deadpan expression on their faces, looking at each other and silently communicating how deeply uninterested they all are at witnessing this bizarre, disturbing spectacle for the umpteenth time.

The guards can’t hide their bewilderment, and they reluctantly backpedal to let your group inside. You and Cater share a mischievous smile, impressed at Fellow's antics. 

Your devious fox pulls you flush to his body, ushering you into the club with a sly wink. "Shall we, dearest Y/n? Let’s make our debut, hmm?" He smirks in the direction of his brother as he spins you around, all while moving backwards into the bar. He bows deeply and gestures elegantly, indicating you should head inside first. You can't help giggling, covering your mouth to conceal the toothy grin that betrays your giddiness as you make your way inside. His eyes travel up and down your frame, marveling at your swaying hips, devouring every curve. His suggestive tongue wets his bottom lip before he bites it, fangs now visible. You're almost ashamed of how attracted you are to him.

Your classmates follow like ducklings trailing a parent, curious to see where the night will take them and if any of it will be blackmail-worthy. How amusing. They muffle laughter at Fellow's narcissistic flamboyance and over-exaggerated antics, taking note of every ridiculous attempt to woo you. A few pretend to gag, exchanging distressed, strained expressions—a theatrical attempt to shove down the raw, unbridled horror they feel at the thought of having to live through another performance of the clown show.

You're not even sure if he wears a persona—a true entertainer, for the thrill of it all—or if he's trying on sincerity for once. You suspect he's a walking caricature of his own making. Even so, the raw energy and manicured showmanship are alluring. His penchant for high-pitched laughter and dramatized emotion adds levity to an otherwise dark situation—something about it really tickles you. His potentially-feigned amusement lights up his impossibly expressive face in a manner that is genuinely contagious.

Slowly taking in your surroundings, your mouth falls slightly open. This was no ordinary dive bar—this was a full on club. A disco ball hangs from the ceiling, dispersing kaleidoscopic beams of color and light throughout the space. The rhythm throbs, perfectly synced with the strobe—each flash of luminescence reveals a slightly new scene. Sweaty bodies bend and sway to the thumping, seductive beat—you’re so ready to join them. Every face around you morphs into carefree bliss. From behind you, Fellow's presence is electrifying, playfully tracing his fingertips across the curve of your lower back as he leads you to the bar. His hand lightly smacks your ass, as if in approval, and your face warms. The effervescent air and residual excitement of escaping death creates an aphrodisiac unlike anything you’ve experienced. The pulsing bass, Fellow's slightly-territorial hand on your hip, and his sensual gaze makes your heart thump erratically. An aching want—no, need—simmers beneath your skin.

"May I get you a drink?" 

Fellow's soft words pull you from your daze, a mischievous sparkle in his eyes appraises your dilated pupils. His toothy grin widens. 

"You prefer sweet, don’t you? I know just the thing." 

He studies you lasciviously. 

"Freshly-squeezed juices and top shelf liqueurs always do the trick. I just love the taste of cherries." 

He brings his hand up to your cheek, the pads of his fingers hovering over the shell of your ear before landing around a stray tendril of hair. He twirls the silky strand between his gloved fingers and tucks it gently behind your ear. Tantalizing.

"Yes, please. That sounds delicious."

You giggle nervously, unable to break eye contact. You hadn’t noticed how full his lips were—the bottom pout most inviting. You hope he doesn't notice you gulp.

Somehow, the man's smile grows even bigger. He takes your hand in his, clasping it tightly and bringing it up to his mouth to plant a soft, chaste kiss. 

"Wait right here for me, won't you, my dear? I'll be back in a heartbeat." 

With a spin, he dances his way through the crowd towards the bartender, expertly navigating the chaos. You stand there dumbfounded, unable to keep the affection from blossoming in your chest; full, red, and so tight that you're afraid it might burst.

Hi, it's me again. Erica. The girl who said "my goal for 2024 is to spend the whole year writing!" Yeah. Sorry about that. Turns out that life sucks and writing is hard. I'm doing my best out here, though. I hope y'all enjoy this one! This shit really makes me laugh, so I hope you laughed too. If you want to create any art based on a scene from this, PLEASE do. I've already started working on chapter 3. I hope it won't take me forever to finish this story but, I'm really just taking my time with it. By "it" I mean, you know, getting to the whole point of this request, which is where Fellow Honest drunkenly confesses to you. But as you can see, we are going on a whole journey, here. I hope you love it! That's why I'm calling it a slice of life. I hope I get to talk to you all again really soon, in my next writing, which I hope... will be... soon. Love you all dearly, ❤️ Erica Malleleothreesome. P.S. I'll be at Anime Expo at the beginning of July. Come say hi!

[randompandabaewrites]

Meadows and Moonlight

Astarion x F!Tav(Est) + Halsin ~4.7k

After the epilogue party, Astarion and Tav finally take Halsin up on his proposition.

Smut. This is shameless smut. Two elves and a tiefling doing it the woods. Soft Dom!Astarion. More submissive Halsin.

//This is a little rough and unedited. Life said, that's a nice mental health ya had, would be a shame if something happened to it...but I think this helped me through it. Maybe XD// ✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

The warmth of the crackling campfire was a welcome and familiar embrace as Tav scanned the faces around her.

Their companions, their friends, looking better than they ever had, celebrating their victory nearly half a year ago. Wyll, Gale, Shadowheart all looking so content—even Lae’zel had the edge of a smile to her sharp features.

Though they weren’t all gathered around the fire.

Tav caught movement in her peripheral vision, drawn over to a secluded corner, where Astarion was murmuring intently to Halsin.

The hulking druid’s brow furrowed as the pale rouge bent his ear, like the devil on his shoulder. But as Tav found her way over to the elves, they both pulled back with smiles on their faces.

“Darling, were your point little ears burning?” Her vampire said, with a smirk he hid behind his own wine goblet.

“Maybe a little,” The tiefling said, with a flick of her tail. “What nefarious plots are you two cooking up over here?”

Astarion waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing so exciting, I’m afraid. Just catching up.” 

Halsin gave the man a bemused expression, but he leaned forward to Tav. “I was just remarking to Astarion how vibrant and...energetic you two seem together these days. That aura of yours could blot out a full moon on a cloudless night.”

Tav nearly choked on her wine, shooting Astarion an accusatory look. He held up his hands defensively, but there was no remorse on his tongue.

“Now dear, don’t give me that look. You know how Halsin is—he’s just naturally attuned to those sorts of...energies.” His voice dropped to a sultry purr on the last word.

Halsin chuckled, his voice warm and rich. “Indeed, the two of you simply radiate...primal passion.” His deep gaze met hers. “Any being would be lucky to revel in such a profound bond.”

Tav’s eyebrows shot up. That…was almost subtle for the wood elf.

Astarion let out a low laugh beside her. “Why Halsin, I thought you’d never ask.” 

Her surprise redoubled as she watched this new boldness in her partner. He reached out, placing a hand brazenly on the druid’s thick, muscular arm.

But Astarion wasn’t putting on one of his cavalier acts this time. 

His interest was undisguised, unvarnished desire writ plainly across his aristocratic features as he appraised Halsin with open want.

“What do you say, my love?” Excitement and curiosity danced in those piercing red eyes.

The druid said nothing, but she could feel him waiting on her answer with baited breath.

Tav felt a shiver of anticipation course through her. Astarion wanted this—wanted Halsin. And from the way the burly elf’s gaze roved appreciatively over them both, the interest was utterly mutual.

She found herself unable to tear her eyes away, imagining what might unfold when this raucous celebration finally dispersed.

Picturing Astarion’s cool confidence melting into ardor, his lithe form entangled with Halsin’s powerful frame. 

The thought sent a delicious shiver of arousal through her core.

“Yes, I say yes.” Tav grinned as Astarion took her arm in his.

“Then, I am even more enthusiastic for this party to end.” The vampire said, with a mischievous purr.

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Astarion nipped playfully at Tav's earlobe, causing her to squeal in surprise and stumble into him.

And he tumbled right over into the soft grass, landing with her sprawled across his chest.

“So much for a rogue’s grace.” Tav huffed, pushing herself upright. “You’re not near drunk enough to be unsteady, my love.”

His laughter echoed up to the full moon hung overhead. “Perhaps I’m trying to catch you off-guard, hmm?” the elf smirked, tilting his head as he looked up at her.

Tav pushed herself up onto her knees, making a point of pinning him to the soft meadow as her tail curled around his thigh. “And yet, I’ve caught you.”

Astarion smirked, those red eyes as bright as the sky full of stars above them. And that look, as it always did, drew her close. Wanting to feel his lips on hers once again.

“Have you…?” He hummed, a breath before she could kiss him.

“Have I wha—”

Astarion had Tav on her back before she could finish her question. And she was looking up at him. His blonde curls ethereal in the moonlight that glinted off of his open smile.

The tiefling’s tail curled as arousal coiled in her core.

“Can you smell that, my love?” he murmured against her ear, his voice like velvet. “Your blood sings a different tune when desire courses through you.”

All of Tav’s limbs went still under Astarion. She tilted her head to expose more of her throat with just one of his intoxicating caresses.

He ducked to her neck, filling her with the anticipation of his teeth—when she felt that damn laugh of his instead. “You’re too easy.”

“I am not!” Tav shoved at the vampire’s chest, until he rolled off of her with utter glee.

“Aren’t you just?”

A rustling along the treeline drew their attention before Tav could come up with a response, which was actually a relief for her.

That turned to a thrum of excitement when she saw the hulking frame of Halsin stepping into the silver light.

“The night air carries far more than the fragrance of wildflowers.” He rumbled in his warm voice. “Your scents together are sweeter than honey.”

Tav swallowed thickly against the thrill Halsin’s easy words sent through her.

If they were right, about her scent and how it changed…she wondered how much it had already given away. Were her deepest cravings laid bare? Not only for Astarion’s wicked touch—but the primal pull she felt for the druid.

The vampire’s breath was back along her neck, his voice in her ear. “How deliciously wicked of you, my darling.”

Astarion’s arm slid deftly around Tav’s middle, pulling her back into his chest, nipping at her shoulder.

His playful tone was gone. Replaced with something almost, possessive about the way he held, the way he teased the marks he’d left along her throat just the other night.

Astarion wasn’t taunting anymore. He was showing off.

And she was malleable as clay in his hands.

Halsin’s gaze burned as he drank in the sight. “If…my company remains desired, that is.”

Astarion lifted his head long enough to give an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “You’re as insufferable as this one.” He scoffed, giving Tav a playful squeeze. “I believe we are both still willing…but.”

Tav turned to him, just to see him smirk.

“We play by my rules.” His lips grazed the shell of her pointed ear, making her tail curled. “Won’t we, my sweet?”

Her mouth opened to give a teasing protest, but the implication finally sank into her lust-addled mind. He wanted control.

And she would gladly give it.

“Yes,” she breathed, her voice tinged with a needy rasp. “Whatever you wish, Astarion.”

“So it shall be.” Halsin’s approval was palpable, a low rumbling purr resonating from deep within his chest as he stepped closer to where they were tangled.

In one fluid motion, Halsin shed his clothes and armor, baring his toned, sun-kissed form with shameless ease.

The druid cut an impressive figure in the moonlight—power and grace given form. A bear of man, bound and rounded with muscles. And…blessed with size in another, poignant area. 

Astarion bit back an Elvish curse beside her.

Desire scorched through her veins, but her gaze deferred to her vampire, who surprised her yet again with his reaction.

Astarion snicker, a sly smirk curving his sculpted lips. “I told you,” he said, recalling a previous conversation. Making her eyebrows lift. “Our dear druid would outlaw clothes if he could.”

“It is a crime to cover up the natural beauty of each and every creature.” Halsin stepped closer without an ounce of trepidation. “Especially, of the two before me now.”

“Halsin, is that an invitation to disrobe?” Astarion teased, as he slid from behind Tav. “Subtly isn’t your…strong suit, is it?

The vampire approached the druid with a flourish, his pale fingers splayed over the tanned, broad chest. Drawing that delicious contrast Tav had been craving. Delicate features against the rough and wild.

Her thighs pressed together.

She watched him, the way he shed his clothing, waiting for the mask to slip over his face and make his eyes go distant. 

But, there was none of that. Tav was left marveling at the ease and confidence Astarion exuded. He was a man transformed, free from the bounds imposed and…happy to pursue his desires. 

Astarion’s crimson gaze gleamed on hers, as he leaned up to kiss Halsin.

Their lips met eagerly. Reveling in the taste of each other, tongues exploring and claiming territory. Despite his vampiric strength and power, Astarion appeared wonderfully porcelain next to the broad-shouldered Halsin. Masculine in their own ways that contrasted beautifully. 

Tav needed out of the confines of her clothing.

Astarion’s hand slid over the druid’s face like well-worn leather as he tilted down to the pale elf. The shorter was still up on his toes—when he murmured something to Halsin.

 His arms slipped around the larger man’s neck as, with a laugh of pure delight, he leapt into Halsin’s waiting arms, his lithe legs wrapping around the wood elf’s muscular waist. Halsin caught him easily, strong hands gripping the vampire’s thighs as he pressed Astarion against the rough bark of a nearby tree.

Heat surged through Tav's entire body, her tail curling fully against her back, the sound of want nearly escaping from behind her hand.

Halsin was leaving searing kisses down Astarion’s throat, pink spots blooming along his pale skin—her blood making him flush. Until the druid moved to the side the vamp’s neck that still bore twin marks—

Tav was on her feet, naked, but her tail lashing from side to side. Ready to protect her elf, even from the mountain of a man.

The rogue’s fingers tangled in Halsin’s mane of hair, giving a sharp jerk. Halsin didn’t need more of an explanation. The man just seemed to understand, and his mouth moved from the tender territory of Astarion’s neck.

Lower still he went, peppering kisses along Astarion’s chiseled chest, his toned stomach, until finally, he took Astarion’s aching cock into his mouth. 

Tav watched, transfixed, as Astarion’s head fell back against the tree, his blonde curls over his forehead and clinging to the bark. . His red eyes fluttered closed, but his sounds sweet and understate.

She knew his sounds intimately now. The desperate way he kissed like he never wanted to part, like he was still shocked by the moans that fell unbidden from him when he was truly pleased.

He wasn’t playing it up. He was just…enjoying it.

Halsin was as capable as he boasted, apparently. More than that, he seemed to thoroughly enjoy hollowing his cheeks, sucking to the tip of Astation’s length, and sliding back down him to swallow more. The druid seemed to know, or her vampire had told him, that pleasing Astarion made Tav nearly feral with want.

Desire coursed through her veins like molten lava, pooling low in her belly. Her tail swayed, slow, the tip curling up with an eagerness…to touch, to taste, anything 

As if sensing her need, Astarion’s crimson eyes opened lazily, catching her gaze, and he lifted one of those elegant hands towards her, inviting her closer.

“Darling…” The way his lips parted and showed his fangs—Tav was already closing the distance between them. “You…really must try this mouth of Halsin’s.” 

She could have snorted at his audacity, but still it drue her right in.

Astarion was kissing her as soon as she was within arm’s reach, pulling her in to his side, none too careful with her hips or tail bumping into the massive druid between his legs. Tav lifted her appendage away though, sliding it to just barely curl around her vampire’s thigh, the caress comforting and familiar. 

“I would find great joy in satisfying your desires, should you so wish.” Halsin said, pulling his mouth free enough to do so. “Your body is a work, crafted with nature’s artisan skill. It would be a pleasure to appreciate it.” 

“And you thought I liked to pontificate in bed.” Astarion smirked, pulling Tav into his arms, his pale hands sliding over her heated tiefling skin. 

“I assure you I did not say pontificate.” She huffed as he pushed her back against the sturdy oak.

“No? He cupped her chin, his hand sliding down to her throat. “What was it…monologue then. Like a villain upon the stage, delivering a dying soliloquy?”

Tav opened her mouth to retort, when both men decided to remind her where they were.

Halsin’s large hands grabbed her hips, already making her gasp with the contrast of his warmth to the usual chill of Astarion’s touch. 

Her legs parted around broad shoulders as the druid hoisted her over them with a grin. “Hells—” She gasped, her back pressed against the bark of the same tree as she was lifted. Her grappled for Halsin’s hair, though her tail flung around Astarion’s waist—clinging to him for balance. 

“Relax darling, we’ve got you.” The vampire purred, moving to her side, leaning up to kiss her. Just as the druid’s mouth lapped at her soaking folds. 

Tav groaned, her head titled back until her horns dragged across the tree.

Normally, recently, perhaps she’d been the one doing the most talking. Astarion had his lines, his well practiced charms, but Tav cut right through them. 

But, it was damn hard to focus with Halsin’s tongue lathing at her sex, finding her clit with ease and confidence, though far from the practice and precision of her vampire’s dexterous mouth.

“Ah, my dear, the sight of you in such ecstasy as your essence is devoured... I could easily become accustom to it.” He purred to her, until her chest was so heated the summer air felt chilled against her peaked nipples.

Tav’s nails dug into the tree behind her, just as a deceptively delicate looking hand grabbed her by the horn, tilting her head to him. “All it took was an archdruid, to get you to focus on your pleasure first?” Astarion rumbled low to her. 

Tav couldn’t help but be just a little…defiant. Her vampire was calling the shots, but she could just let her palm just graze the length of him, before the vampire caught her wrist, pinning it to the wood behind her. 

“Ah-ha, not tonight my sweet.” 

Tav blinked at him, with as much focus she could manage as Halsin drew her closer and closer to the edge of her pleasure.

“I want to ravish you, have you be ravished. To have you enjoy all of the attention and affection gift to me.” Astarion confessed, his face gone softer. More sincere. “That is all I want.” 

Tav felt half-wild. Driven to a mad love, body and soul, by this amazing man.

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The moonlight cast pale highlights across Tav's bare skin as Astarion's lips trailed down her neck. His fangs grazed her delicate flesh, eliciting a shiver. "Do as I say, druid," he murmured against her ear, glancing at Halsin with a wicked grin. “Our darling Tav deserves to be pleased.”

Halsin's eyes burned with an animalistic desire, and she could feel his growl rumbling in her trembling thighs.

"Please," Tav breathed, desire coiling hotly in her core.

With a feral snarl, Halsin parted her thighs and his tongue darted out, lapping at her slick folds. Tav gasped, back arching as Astarion captured her lips in a searing kiss, swallowing her moans. His hands roamed freely, tweaking her nipples as Halsin's expert mouth worked her into a frenzy.

Unbridled pleasure crashed over her in waves, each flick of Halsin's talented tongue sending sparks dancing across her nerves. Astarion devoured her cries, his touch fever-hot against her skin. The coil within tightened, tightened until finally, it snapped. She shattered against Halsin's mouth with a primal cry.

As the last tremors faded, Astarion scooped Tav into his arms effortlessly. He carried her into the tall grass, laying her down with utmost tenderness amid the wildflowers.

Tav traced her fingers along Astarion's chest, admiring the way the moonlight caught on the sweat glistening on his skin.

"You two are a vision" Halsin said, a note of awe in his voice.

"You have no idea," Astarion murmured, leaning in to press a kiss to her neck.

Tav shivered at the touch. She let her eyes drift over to Halsin, who was kneeling in the grass next to them. Slick on his lips. His massive cock aching for attention.

“Astarion…?”

“Hmm,” The darkened red eyes took in the sight that was the archdruid on his knees. “Well, I might like to get my mouth on you, Halsin.” Astarion's voice was low, almost a growl.

The wood elf let out a low, throaty chuckle.. "I think that might be a bit much for one mouth," he said, his eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Then I should help.” Tav said, sliding from Astarion’s hold onto her knees.

He cocked an eyebrow, before giving his assent.

"I've been wanting to do this for a long time," he said, pushing at the druid’s chest. The muscle-bound man fell willingly back onto his heels.

Astarion smiled, his eyes never leaving Tav’s as he lowered his head to Halsin’s lap. Tav watched as he took Halsin’s cock into his mouth, her body trembling with fresh anticipation.

He was…big. Massive. Damn the druid for being right. He tasted of earth and musk and raw want—and Astarion drew Tav to him with a gaze. They knelt in tandem, their attention wholly consumed by Halsin’s aching cock.

Tav lips stretched around Halsin’s tip, greedy as she ever was to suck him down. Her moans hummed against his skin. It his turn to join Tav, watching as Halsin’s face took on a wild obscenity that the vampire couldn’t help but admire. For how open he was.

As they continued their dual ministrations, Astarion saw the flick of Tav’s tail, curling at the small of her back with renewed desire. He spotted the moment her hand snuck between her legs.

Suddenly, Astarion felt a shift in the atmosphere, his sharp eyes catching Tav's hand being gently enveloped by Halsin's larger one.

"May I?" Halsin asked him, his voice carrying a note of respect that Astarion found endearing. The druid was committed to following his rules, especially for such a untamed man.

Astarion gave a nod. He watched as Halsin’s thick fingers replaced Tav's delicate ones as they pressed into her. The sight of her squirming under Halsin’s touch stirred something within Astarion—that made him purr against his mouthful of the druid’s cock.

Tav gave a soft moan, her hand wrapped around the base of Halsin’s length, eyes gone unfocused as he slipped another finger into her. Astarion couldn't help but tease, "Oh my, how ever will you take all of him, when a couple fingers drive you to distraction" His smirk held a hint of challenge.

Halsin simply smiled at Astarion’s remark, his gaze never leaving Tav. “I know a rather ancient magic for such a predicament. ” he responded calmly, his hand never ceasing its efforts to make the tiefling tremble.

“Please…” Her voice quivered, those bright eyes unfocused as she begged him. “Astarion…can I?”

He grinned wickedly in return. “You may.”

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Tav sank down onto the soft grass, her hands and knees buried into the lush carpet. She was soaked from the druid’s mouth, and his fingers, and burning with how empty she felt.

Her eyes still on her lover, as she arched her back, position herself. As she curled her tail off to her side, presenting to hurry the druid along to take her.

Halsin’s large hands caressing her curves, anticipation making her shudder.

The blunt head of his cock pressed against her slit, and the tiefling’s talons pierced into the turf. When he finally sank into her, stretching her, filling her. Tav cried out, the pleasure so intense it bordered on pain.

“Just relax, little one.” With one slow thrust, he pushed inside, stretching her deliciously full.

“Are you alright, love?” Astarion asked, concern lacing his voice.

Tav gasped, rocking back against the druid. “It’s…good…fuck, more.” She demanded. 

And she was rewarded with Astarion’s deep chuckle, and more of Halsin’s thick cock. 

“More you shall have.” The druid rumbled.

Fuck, the way he stretched her. She could feel him against every wall, and even a shift of his hips made a mewl come from her bitten lips. 

Reassured, Astarion let out a filthy praise for her, his hand sliding over the arch of her back. Before deft fingers found their way down her belly to play with her clit. 

Tav cried out, back arching as the elves took over every sense. Her tail curled around Astarion’s arm as he played with her.

Halsin set a steady rhythm, driving into her again and again until her cries melted into wordless moans of bliss. The pressure built rapidly until finally she fell apart, climax crashing over her in shattering waves.

“Gorgeous creature.” The druid hummed, his fingers curled into her thigh.

“Careful…” Astarion eased her into the grass, his hand along her trembling thigh. “She’s quite sensitive after she comes.”

Tav was sinking to her belly, worn out, needing a break as Halsin slipped from her.  Astarion He soothed, his cool touch welcomed against her still throbbing sex.

“M’fine Tav panted, her cheek pressed into the soft grass, her usually sharp eyes completely out of focus. “More than fine.” 

The vampire’s eyes went to Halsin as the druid stroked himself with Tav’s slick.

"Is this the usual response from your bedfellows?" Astarion inquired, a hint of admiration slipping into his tone. Tav had rolled onto her side on the grass, a smile on her lips still as she shivered with aftershocks. 

“She did exceedingly well.” Halsin said, with all the warmth they expected from him. “Usually it takes a Nymph’s spell to take what nature has blessed me with.” 

The tiefling chuckled, but the vampire’s brows rose nearly into his hair. “A what? Sexual magic? Halsin…well, actually, I’m not at all surprised.”

“Would you like me to show you?” Halsin’s voice dropped impossibly lower, and he gestured towards the bed of grass. 

Astarion’s eyes darted to hers, but Tav could see the curiosity, and want. She grinned and nodded, as if he needed her permission to have what he already wanted. 

The pale elf moved, fluid as he always was when he crawled over his Tav. A kiss demanded and a kiss given. 

Then, to both Tav and Astarion’s surprise, Halsin leaned forward, his tongue tracing along the vampire’s tight rim of muscle.

Astarion yelped, his eyes flying wide, before melting into the unexpected touch.

Tav leaned up on her elbows, alert, scooting to sit up, to act. ”Astarion?”

“I’m fine.” He shivered. “I’ve never…experienced nymph magic,” he breathed, his voice thick with wonder and delight.

Tav had to make sure. Cupping his cheek until she caught his eyes—his gaze bright, wild, and fully present.

Her fingers curled into his silvery hair. 

Halsin…never lacked enthusasim. Even the push of his tongue dropped Astarion’s head to her lap, his panted breaths across her thighs.

“More?” The druid asked, leaning up from the vampire with a sound of protest from the pale elf’s lips. 

“Oh yes,” Astarion groaned spreading his legs wider in shameless invitation. “Take me, beast.”

He’d been waiting to use that line, she knew it. But that meant he was here, his humor intact as Tav watched Halsin press his hips flush to Astarion’s ass.

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

Astarion’s breath caught in his throat as Halsin’s thick length stretched him open, the delicious burn stoking the flames of his desire. He was already shuddering before the druid even moved his hips. 

It wasn’t…his first time recieving. Far from it. He did his best not to let his mind wander back to those times—but he couldn’t help but wish he’d known the spell Halsin had whispered into his skin. The sheer pleasure of the stretch alone. 

He was panting against Tav’s familiar skin, breath playing over her ribs and her chest. If he had enough focus, he’d latched his lips around one her dark nipple—but that would require him being able to focus enough to watch where his teeth landed. 

He must have been still for too long, because he felt the blunt points of her nails slidng through his hair, tugging at him to look up, always making sure he was alright.

His cooled heart was always warmed when she did, even if he pretended to be annoyed. 

“Fuck,” Astarion finally lifted his head, a grin on his lips even as he panted. He pressed his lips to hers. 

He could hear the grin in Halsin’s face as the druid gripped his hips, and slid back slowly from him. 

Anticipation built sublimely in the vampire. And the first powerful thrust was everything he’d craved—he was driven deeper into the cradle of Tav’s thighs, her slick folds caressing his aching cock.

He could feel her shiver under him as each buck of Halsin’s hips rutted them together. 

“Tav…come here,” the vampire barely had to voice his desire against her still shining lips. 

Tav whimpered into his mouth in assent. She slid down his body, hooking her legs along the back of Astarion’s thighs—until he slid easy into her waiting warmth. 

They both groaned at Halsin’s next brutal thrust. 

Tav’s claws skimmed his sweat-slicked shoulders as she wrapped her arms around her vampire. 

Halsin pounded into them both with bestial fervor. The air was thick with the tang of sex and the slick sounds of flesh meeting flesh.

Trapped between them, wonderfully so, Astarion couldn’t think of a word other…than complete.

He drank in Tav’s cries of ecstasy, reveling in her growing desperation.

“That’s it, my love,” he panted against the curve of her neck between fevered kisses. “Let me hear you.”

Her walls clenched around him in response, silken and scorching. Halsin’s wild abandon jostled them both, the spawn taking Tav with as he was taken in turn.

Astarion threw his head back with a guttural sound, lost to everything but the dizzying spiral of pleasure consuming him from all sides. He was alive and set ablaze.

And how pleasant it was to burn.

✿⊹₊⁺⋆☾⋆⁺₊✩ ₊⁺⋆☽⋆⁺₊⊹ ✿

Halsin wrapped his bulky arms around Astarion and Tav, pulling their sweat-slicked bodies against his broad chest.

The three figures lay entwined, spent and panting, exhausted limbs heavy.

For a long moment, there was only the sound of their ragged breaths mingling with the gentle rustling of leaves and chirping of crickets in the surrounding woods.

Astarion turned his head on Halsin’s shoulder to gaze at Tav, a lazy smile playing at his lips.

Tav met his eyes, her own crinkling with amusement.

A chuckle bubbled up from Astarion’s throat. “Well, that was certainly...invigorating,” he quipped.

Tav’s musical laughter rang out as she leaned in, capturing Astarion’s mouth in a tender kiss, the casual intimacy of long-time lovers.

As the couple exchanged sweet nothings, Halsin watched them with a soft, indulgent smile, content to remain a silent observer.

There was something profoundly beautiful about the pure adoration that flowed between them, the deep bond they so clearly shared. An intimacy he could appreciate, even if he had no real part in it.

“Enchanting, how enraptured you are with one another. ” the druid remarked warmly. “A fleeting moment of passion, precious in its ephemerality.”

Astarion rolled his eyes fondly at the druid’s poetic waxing. “Ever the hopeless romantic, aren’t you Halsin? I suppose there are worse things.”

He turned back to Tav, fingertips grazing her cheek.”Now, where were we, my dearest? Ah yes...basking in the afterglow of our salacious little adventure...”

As Astarion drew her into another languid kiss, Halsin suppressed a wistful sigh.

What they had was rare and special, not to be intruded upon. He would enjoy this temporary closeness, this glimpse into their private world...but come morning, he knew, it would be a cherished memory and nothing more.

The lovers only had eyes for each other.

[estellan0vella]

A Chance Encounter Older Brother Sukuna AU HFBU

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee mingles with the faint scent of pastries in the bustling café. You sit by the window, the warm sunlight streaming through the glass, casting a soft glow on your sketchbook. With each stroke of your pencil, a new design takes shape, intricate patterns and delicate lines flowing effortlessly from your hand. It's your sanctuary, a place where you lose yourself in the art, forgetting the world around you.

Suddenly, a shadow falls over your sketchbook. You look up to find a man standing there, his pink hair catching the light, his red eyes locked onto your drawings. He's tall, muscular, and covered in tattoos, each one more intricate than the last. He exudes an air of confidence and mystery that makes your heart skip a beat.

"Those are some impressive sketches," he says, his voice deep and smooth. "Do you mind if I take a closer look?"

You nod, feeling a mix of surprise and curiosity. He studies your drawings with a keen eye, his expression thoughtful. After a moment, he pulls out a business card and scribbles something on the back before handing it to you.

"I'm Sukuna," he introduces himself with a charming smile. "I own a tattoo parlour nearby. I'd love to see more of your work. Here's my card, and I've added my personal number. Give me a call if you're interested."

With that, he walks away, leaving you with a fluttering heart and a business card that feels like a golden ticket. You can't help but smile as you slip the card into your pocket, already anticipating the conversation you'll have later with your flatmate.

That night, you and Gojo settle into your usual routine: wine, face masks, and a cheesy movie playing in the background. The soft glow of the TV casts a cozy ambiance in the room as you recount the events of the day. Gojo's eyes widen in disbelief, his face covered in a bright green face mask.

"Wait, wait, wait," he says, sitting up straight and nearly spilling his wine. "You're telling me a drop-dead sexy man gave you his personal number? This is not a drill, Y/N! We need to talk about this."

You laugh, feeling the warmth of the wine and Gojo's infectious excitement. "I know, right? He owns a tattoo parlour and seemed really interested in my sketches. I think I might actually call him."

Gojo's grin widens. "You absolutely should. This is fate, my dear. Sexy tattoo artists don't just walk into your life every day."

You sip your wine, a thoughtful look on your face. "I mean, what if he was just being polite? Maybe he gives his number to a lot of people."

"Y/N," Gojo says, rolling his eyes dramatically. "Men like that do not just hand out their personal numbers. He's interested. And he owns a tattoo parlour? That's like, instant cool points."

"I guess," you reply, unable to keep a smile from forming. "He was really intense, though. Those red eyes... I felt like he could see right through me."

Gojo leans forward, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Tell me more about him. What else did he say?"

"He asked if I worked anywhere and complimented my sketches," you say, replaying the encounter in your mind. "Then he handed me his business card with his number on the back and told me to call him if I was looking for something more."

Gojo gasps theatrically. "Y/N, this is like something out of a romance novel! You have to call him. Imagine all the possibilities. Maybe you'll get an amazing job and a hot boyfriend out of this."

You laugh, shaking your head. "Slow down, Satoru. It's just a phone number. Besides, what if he's not looking for anything serious?"

Gojo waves his hand dismissively. "Please. You won't know until you call him. Worst case, you have a fun fling with a gorgeous guy. Best case, you get a new job and a fantastic relationship. It's a win-win."

"You make it sound so easy," you say, feeling a mix of excitement and nerves. "But what if he's not what I'm expecting? What if he doesn't like me once he gets to know me?"

Gojo places a reassuring hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, you're amazing. If he doesn't see that, then it's his loss. But you owe it to yourself to find out. Take the chance."

You nod, feeling a surge of determination. "You're right. I'll go to the parlour in a few days"

"That's my girl!" Gojo cheers, clinking his glass against yours. "Now, let's focus on this movie and see if the heroine ends up with the handsome prince."

A few days later, you find yourself standing outside Sukuna's tattoo parlour, your heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. The shop is a blend of modern and edgy, with bold artwork adorning the walls and a sleek, inviting atmosphere.

As you step inside, you're greeted by two men lounging near the reception desk. One has long black hair tied back, and the other is muscular with short, spiky hair. They glance up as you enter, their eyes lighting up with curiosity.

"Well, well, well," the long-haired man says with a smirk. "If it isn't the pretty woman from the coffee shop. Sukuna's been talking about you."

The other man chuckles, giving you a once-over. "I'm Geto, and this is Toji. Sukuna's been in a good mood since he met you. I gotta say, we're all curious."

You blush, feeling a bit flustered under their teasing gazes. "I'm Y/N. Sukuna invited me to come by and show him more of my sketches."

Before you can say more, Sukuna emerges from the back room, his eyes lighting up when he sees you. "Y/N, you made it," he says, his tone warm and inviting. "Come on back, I'd love to see what you've brought."

You follow him into his office, the walls lined with more of his impressive artwork. He motions for you to sit, and you spread out your sketchbook, showing him your latest designs. He flips through the pages, his expression thoughtful and appreciative.

"These are incredible," he says, looking up at you with admiration. "Have you ever thought about doing tattoos yourself?"

You hesitate, then shake your head. "I don't think I could. I have epilepsy, and I wouldn't feel comfortable working on someone's skin with the risk of a seizure."

Sukuna's expression softens with understanding. "I get that. But your designs are too good to go unnoticed. How about this – you design the tattoos, and I'll handle the inking? We can call it a collaboration."

You smile, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "That sounds amazing. But are you sure? Mixing business and pleasure can be tricky."

He leans in closer, his eyes locking onto yours. "I'll make an exception to the rule this time. How about we discuss it over drinks?"

You agree, and later that evening, you find yourself in a cozy bar with Sukuna, the atmosphere relaxed and intimate. As you sip your drinks, he tells you about his three-year-old brother, Yuji, and how he became Yuji's legal guardian after their parents died.

"It's been a challenge," he admits, his eyes reflecting both pride and a hint of weariness. "But I wouldn't trade it for anything. Yuji's everything to me."

You share a bit about your own background, mentioning your strained relationship with your wealthy family. He doesn't press for details, respecting your boundaries.

"I want you to have this," you say, handing him a small card. "It's instructions on what to do if I have a seizure. Just in case."

Sukuna takes the card, his expression serious as he reads it. "Thank you for trusting me with this," he says sincerely. "I want to make sure you're safe."

You smile, feeling a connection growing between you. "I've got some stories if you're interested."

His grin returns, and he leans in closer, eager to listen. "I'm all ears."

You take a deep breath, recalling some of the more memorable experiences. "Once I learned what the aura was I used it to my advantage so when I'd feel one coming on I'd freak out my asshole family members by saying some freaky shit before dropping into a seizure"

Sukuna's eyes widen with intrigue and amusement. "Freaky shit, huh? Give me an example."

You laugh, taking a sip of your drink to gather your thoughts. "Okay, so there was this one time at a family dinner. I felt a seizure coming on, and my aunt was going on and on about some new business venture. I interrupted her and said, 'Auntie, the spirits are restless tonight. They demand a sacrifice.' Then I started to convulse and dropped to the floor."

Sukuna bursts out laughing, his eyes crinkling at the corners. "No way! That must have scared the hell out of her."

"It did," you reply, grinning. "She screamed and started throwing holy water at me. It was pure chaos. My parents were mortified especially when other family started recommeding exorcists. My aunt, bless her, she never quite looked at me the same way again."

"I can imagine," Sukuna snorts. 

The night continues with more stories and laughter, the bond between you growing stronger. When it's time to leave, Sukuna insists on walking you back to your apartment.

As you approach your building, you spot Gojo waiting by the entrance, his eyes widening in surprise when he sees you with Sukuna.

"Well, well," Gojo teases, a grin spreading across his face. "Looks like someone had a good night."

You laugh, feeling a bit shy under his scrutiny. "Gojo, this is Sukuna. Sukuna, this is my flatmate, Gojo."

Gojo extends a hand, shaking Sukuna's firmly. "Nice to meet you, Sukuna. I've heard a lot about you."

Sukuna nods, his demeanor friendly but reserved. "Likewise. Take care of her, Gojo."

With that, Sukuna bids you goodnight, his gaze lingering on you for a moment before he turns to leave. You watch him go, a smile playing on your lips.

Inside the apartment, Gojo wastes no time. "Okay, spill. How was it?"

You flop onto the couch, feeling giddy. "It was amazing. He's so kind and understanding. And did I mention how sexy he is?"

Gojo laughs, grabbing his phone. "Let's see this parlour of his. If he's as hot as you say, I need to check out his work."

You both gather around the laptop, pulling up the website for Sukuna's tattoo parlour. The screen fills with images of stunning artwork and a few photos of the team.

Gojo points to one of the pictures, his eyes widening when he spots one of Sukuna's co-workers. "Is that one Geto? I want to lick him like a lollipop."

You burst into laughter, the wine and the excitement of the night making everything feel surreal. "Gojo, you're incorrigible."

He grins, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. "What can I say? I have a weakness for hot guys with tattoos. But seriously, Y/N, I'm happy for you. He seems like a great guy."

You nod, feeling a sense of contentment wash over you. "Yeah, he really is. I think this could be the start of something special."

"So, Y/N," Gojo begins with a mischievous twinkle in his eye, "it's criminal that you didn't go home with Sukuna tonight."

You playfully roll your eyes, knowing where this is headed. "Oh, come on, Gojo. We had a great time together. That's what matters."

He gives you an exaggerated sigh, as if disappointed by your response. "Fine, fine. I'll let it slide this time. But," he adds with a pointed look, "you owe me."

You raise an eyebrow, intrigued. "I owe you? What for?"

Gojo leans in conspiratorially, his grin widening. "You're going to start working at Sukuna's parlour, right? Well, since you'll be seeing that sexy man every day, it's only fair that you set me up with Geto."

You burst into laughter, shaking your head at his audacity. "You're shameless, Gojo. But I'll consider it."

"Consider it?" he exclaims dramatically. "Y/N, my dear friend, this is a matter of utmost importance! Geto needs to know that I'm interested."

"You're impossible," you chuckle, picking up your phone to check the time. "Speaking of which, I should probably text Sukuna and let him know I got home safely."

Gojo perks up immediately, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ooh, can I help with that?"

You raise an eyebrow suspiciously. "What do you mean?"

He grins devilishly. "Give me your phone. I'll text him for you."

You hesitate for a moment, weighing the risks of letting Gojo loose with your phone. But after a moment's thought, you hand it over with a smirk. "Alright, but no funny business."

Gojo takes the phone eagerly, his fingers flying over the screen as he composes a message. "Don't worry, I'll be on my best behavior."

He taps away for a few seconds before showing you the screen. "There. Sent."

You read the message aloud, your eyes widening in surprise. "It's Gojo. Does Geto like men?"

Gojo grins triumphantly, handing the phone back to you. "Now we wait for Sukuna's response."

"You're unbelievable," you laugh, shaking your head as you put your phone down. "I can't believe you just did that."

As you set your phone down, still chuckling at Gojo's audacity, it suddenly lights up with an incoming call. Your heart skips a beat as you see Sukuna's name flashing on the screen.

"Oh no," you mutter, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "He's calling."

Gojo raises an eyebrow mischievously. "Well, aren't you going to answer?"

You hesitate for a moment, debating whether to let Gojo handle the situation. But before you can make a move, Gojo snatches up your phone with a grin and answers it before you can stop him.

"Hello, Sukuna," Gojo says casually, leaning back on the couch as if he's answering his own phone. "Yeah, it's me, Gojo. Sorry to disappoint, but Y/N left her phone with me. So, does Geto like men?"

You lunge forward, panic rising in your chest. "Gojo, give me that phone!"

But Gojo dodges your grasp effortlessly, grinning as he keeps his attention on the call. "What? Oh, she's fine. Just a bit annoyed that I'm hijacking her phone. So, about Geto..."

You let out an exasperated groan, trying again to grab the phone from him. "Gojo, seriously! Give it back!"

Gojo laughs, evading your attempts with surprising agility as he continues speaking into the phone. "Yeah, yeah, Y/N's trying to kill me for asking. But hey, inquiring minds want to know."

You dive for the phone once more, nearly toppling over the coffee table in your pursuit. "Gojo, I swear!"

Gojo dances away from you, effortlessly dodging your furious attempts to reclaim your phone. "Hold on, Sukuna. Let me put you on speaker. Y/N's dying to hear the answer."

You freeze, realizing you're caught in Gojo's playful trap. You give up your chase for a moment, glaring at him with mock fury. "Gojo, you're impossible."

He grins mischievously, finally relenting and putting the call on speaker. "Alright, Sukuna. Now that we have an audience, spill the beans. Does Geto like men? I need to know if that criminally sexy hunk of man meat is my future husband"

"For fuck sake," You mutter, taking a big gulp from the wine bottle. 

The room fills with Sukuna's laughter as Gojo's audacious questions ring through the speakerphone. You groan inwardly, burying your face in a nearby cushion as you listen to your friend's shameless interrogation.

Sukuna's amused voice cuts through the air. "Gojo, you're certainly direct. I can't say about Geto's preferences, but I'm sure he'd appreciate the attention."

Gojo, undeterred, continues his playful banter. "Alright, fair enough. Now, on a scale of one to ten, how hot do you think my best friend is?"

You shoot Gojo a death glare, mouthing 'stop it' furiously, but he's too engrossed in his antics to notice. You grab a cushion and hurl it at him with all your might, hitting him square in the face.

"Ow! Hey!" Gojo protests, momentarily distracted from the call. "Okay, okay, I get it. Just asking for a friend."

Sukuna chuckles on the other end of the line. "I'd say she's a solid eleven."

You groan again, your face burning with embarrassment as you snatch the phone from Gojo's hand. "I'm so sorry, Sukuna. He's incorrigible."

"No need to apologize," Sukuna replies. "It's been entertaining, to say the least. But Gojo, you might want to tread carefully with those questions."

Gojo rubs his nose where the cushion hit him, his grin undiminished. "Understood, Sukuna. But one last thing – you don't cry after doing it, right? Because if so, you're not allowed near Y/N. She's been through that before-"

Sukuna's hearty laughter echoes through the speakerphone again as Gojo's teasing provokes another exasperated response from you. You grab your sketchbook from the coffee table and fling it at Gojo with all your might. The sketchbook sails through the air, narrowly missing Gojo's head as he ducks, still chuckling.

Before Gojo can finish his sentence, you launch yourself at him with a primal yell, tackling him to the ground. He lets out a surprised grunt as the two of you crash onto the floor, cushions and blankets flying everywhere.

"Gojo, shut up!" you yell, wrestling to pin him down while he continues to laugh uproariously.

You manage to wrest the phone from Gojo's grasp and, without missing a beat, dash toward your bedroom. "Sorry, Sukuna! Give me a second!" you call out, sprinting down the hallway. Gojo's laughter follows you as you slam your door shut and lock it, leaning against it for a moment to catch your breath.

"Finally," you mutter, bringing the phone to your ear. "Sorry about that, Sukuna. Gojo can be a bit... much."

Sukuna's laughter is still present in his voice. "No worries, Y/N. It was entertaining. You have quite the energetic friend."

"That's one way to put it," you sigh, feeling a mix of exasperation and fondness. "So, about what Gojo said..."

"Don't worry, I'm not a crier," Sukuna says and you breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thank God," You say.

"I'm curious to know about the crier," Sukuna's voice has a teasing lilt to it. 

"I'll tell you!" Gojo calls through the door. "Her ex would cry almost every time they-"

"Gojo, I will take the kitchen knife and-" you start to threaten, your voice carrying a mix of genuine frustration and playful menace.

Gojo's voice interrupts you through the door. "And do what? Cut my precious hair? You wouldn't dare!"

"No, I have some garden shears reserved for your hair!" you call back, your tone dripping with mock menace. "Rusty and blunt."

Gojo's laughter booms through the door. "You wouldn't dare. My hair is a work of art!"

"It's a work of something, that's for sure," you retort, a grin spreading across your face despite yourself.

Behind the door, you hear Gojo's exaggerated gasp. "I am hurt, Y/N. Deeply hurt. I thought we were friends."

"We are," you chuckle, shaking your head. "But seriously, stop eavesdropping."

Gojo's voice turns playful again. "Fine, fine. I'll leave you and Sukuna to your romantic phone call in peace. But remember, if you need any tips on handling a tattooed bad boy, I'm your man."

You roll your eyes, the amusement clear in your voice. "Thanks, Gojo. I'll keep that in mind."

Once you're sure Gojo has retreated, you settle back against your bedroom door with a sigh, bringing the phone back to your ear. "Sorry about that, Sukuna."

Sukuna's warm chuckle fills your ear. "No need to apologize. Your friend seems... colorful."

"That's one way to describe him," you agree, feeling a smile tug at your lips. "So, what were you saying before we were interrupted?"

"I was wondering if you'd like to come to the parlour again," Sukuna says, his voice taking on a slightly more serious tone. "But this time, it's closed, and I thought we could have a different kind of date."

Your curiosity piques. "A different kind of date?"

"Yeah," Sukuna continues, his tone gentle yet filled with anticipation. "I have some fake skin for tattoo practice. I thought maybe you could bring your sketches, and I could show you some basics. If you're interested, of course."

The idea sends a thrill through you. "That sounds amazing, Sukuna. I'd love to learn more about tattooing from you."

"Great," Sukuna replies, his voice warm with approval. "How about tomorrow evening? I'll set everything up, and we can take our time."

You feel a rush of excitement at the thought of spending more time with Sukuna and delving into his world of tattoo artistry. "Tomorrow evening sounds perfect. I can't wait."

"Me neither," Sukuna says softly. "I'll text you the details. Until then, Y/N."

"Until then, Sukuna," you reply, feeling butterflies flutter in your stomach as you hang up the phone.

As you hang up with Sukuna, Gojo bursts back into your room with his usual dramatic flair. "So, spill the tea! What did Sukuna say? When's the next hot date?"

You chuckle at his enthusiasm, shaking your head at his antics. "Tomorrow evening. We're going to the parlour after hours."

Gojo's eyes widen in mock surprise. "Ooh, after hours? That's scandalous. Are you sure you're ready for that level of intimacy?"

Rolling your eyes, you play along with his teasing. "It's not like that, Gojo. We're just going to practice tattooing on fake skin."

Gojo raises an eyebrow suggestively. "Sure, sure. Tattooing. I get it. Wink wink."

You laugh, swatting at him playfully. "Stop it, you perv."

Ignoring your protest, Gojo flops down on your bed dramatically. "Seriously though, I'm happy for you. Sukuna seems like a good guy. And hot, let's not forget hot."

"You're not wrong," you admit with a grin, unable to deny Sukuna's attractiveness.

"And what about Geto?" Gojo prompts eagerly, propping himself up on his elbows. "When are you setting me up with him? You promised!"

You shake your head, amused by his persistence. "I'll see what I can do, Gojo. But don't get your hopes up too high."

"I'm counting on you, Y/N," Gojo says dramatically, clutching his heart as if wounded. "My future happiness depends on this."

"Your future happiness depends on many things, but sure, I'll add 'Geto matchmaker' to my list," you reply, teasing him gently.

Gojo grins, rolling onto his back and staring up at the ceiling. "You know I trust you with my love life, Y/N. You've got impeccable taste."

"That's debatable," you quip back, enjoying the banter with your friend.

He sits up suddenly, his expression turning serious for a moment. "But seriously, Y/N. I'm glad you're hitting it off with Sukuna. You deserve someone who appreciates your sketches and makes you laugh."

Your heart warms at his sincerity. "Thanks, Gojo. That means a lot."

"Anytime," Gojo says with a grin, returning to his usual playful demeanour. "Now, back to Sukuna and Geto. Double date soon, perhaps?"

You laugh, shaking your head at his relentless matchmaking efforts. "Let's see how tomorrow goes first, okay?"

"Fair enough," Gojo concedes with a shrug. "But just remember, I'm counting on you."

"I won't forget," you assure him, already looking forward to the next chapter with Sukuna and whatever adventures (and matchmaking schemes) Gojo might drag you into next.

taglist - @sad-darksoul @thejujvtsupost @kyo-kyo1

[itstimetojellyfish]

Hello! I hope your day is going well! Could I request a angst/comfort Jiyan x reader, where Jiyan has been away on the battlefield for months. The reader is feeling extremely lonely, and when Jiyan surprises the reader with his return, he's very gentle and wholesome with them. Thank you very much! I hope this wasn't too vague.

LETS GOOOOO!!!!! Now imma go suffer and try find a picture that actually fits . Thanks !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Missing you.( Im back) Jiyan x reader

It’s been so long since you’ve last seen your lover’s face .

The mission was only supposed to be a week , but now it’s been months .

You really miss your overworked lover… as exhausted as he can be , you vowed you would take care of him anyways .

( You forgot to protect and nurture your own heart as well)

Now you’re on the bed , just praying to see a glimpse of teal to just give you a bit of hope that your lover’s coming back from the battlefield . Then you can take care of his weary bones and make sure he feels loved.

You stare at the ceiling , trying to recall what Jiyan looks like….

Sharp features…

Amber eyes…

Teal hair….

You forgot the rest………..

YOU FORGOT THE REST.

How could you?! That was utterly ridiculous! To forget what your lover looks like?!

But unfortunately, it was true , it’s been so long …. That you can’t even remember what he looks like , only colors , you couldn’t even describe his outfit.

As you realize how useless you are you start to hiccup and cry because you didn’t think you’d be so incompetent to the point where you forgot your lover…

Before your thoughts can spiral any further down the hole of despair, something moved around , you were pretty sure no one was supposed to be up at like , 1:47 am ….

You take a robe from the closet and put it on before opening the window and peeking outside , you couldn’t see anything , the usual , grass , trees, and the midnight general , and the city-

THE MIDNIGHT GENERAL?!

You whip your head to the side to make sure you weren’t hallucinating, only to find out you probably were since he wasn’t there…

You turn around to get back in bed but to your surprise , before you can even twist your upper torso to the side , long , warm arms wrap around your waist and coddle you gently .

You manage to turn around and come face to face with your lover .

He ‘s back

Sharp eyes , the color of molten lava , look at your figure slowly , his eyes trailing up and down as he makes sure you haven’t malnourished yourself in the months that he was gone.

You stare at him dumbfounded as you realize he’s actually back and not some stupid hallucination you have .

As he looks over you , he sees the dark , semicircles punched underneath your eyes. He rubs a thumb over them before saying .

“ You didn’t sleep , did you? Were you worrying about me?” He kisses your forehead before lifting you in a bridal carry and placing you in bed

You respond in a meek tone ,” Yes… I was worried okay?! You told me it was only supposed to be 2 weeks! It’s been 5 months.”

He stares at you as tears well up in your eyes , and then gently kisses them away , hugging your smaller frame as he replies with “ I’m sorry .. the Tacet Discord waves were getting bigger and bigger..”

He looks at you for a moment , then asks you ,” How about I run us both a bath , you let me take care of you as a reward for waiting for me , and I’ll sleep with you as my reward , alright?”

You stare at him and bite your lip for a few seconds before nodding and looking up at him , eyes softening.

He gives you a sweet smile before going to the bathroom and starts to run the bath , you could hear the water gently splashing on top of itself.

He then goes to the closet and pulls out soft , silk robes for you two to wear after the bath is done .

When the bath is filled with warm water, he gently picks you up and puts you in the bath , the water overlapping .

After the bath is done and both of you are throughly satisfied, he lays you on the bed and sits on the edge .

You cling onto him before letting go and patting your side , silently asking him to get in bed with you so you both can sleep.

He slips into bed with you and gently plays with your hair as one arm wraps around you and holds you flush to his chest , reassuring you that he’s here and breathing in one piece .

Soon your eyes begin to close , but before they do you say ,” Love you ,Jiyan..”

You were too drowsy to hear the response from him , but you knew that he loved you anyways no matter what and would return to you .

He smiles when he hears what you say , and then kisses your forehead, replying with .

“ I love you too,goodnight,my dear moon.”

[bubbles-for-all-of-us]

Sleep

a/n did this need to be this long? No. But is it impossible to not make everything slightly sexual with these eepy boys? Yes. Someone needs to take my phone away. I also have exhaustion fever so this is actually a fever dream. Edited version.

summary: Sleep token with a model reader (preferably fem, but you can totally make it gn) like she's not a famous model, but like she's good at what she does and so eepy boys are like, "ooh they make good sht what if we hire her for an album cover or something"

warning: slightly sexual….?

sleep token boys x reader

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“You’re looking at her like she’s the last supper," ii snorted after a while of watching Vessel practically drool over you. The post-show gatherings were rare. Well, the ones where the team could bring plus ones were. Boys usually stuck around for a quick photo, their way of showing how much they appreciated everyone’s work before they disappeared into the privacy of the back rooms. But not today. And for the very first time, it felt worth it.

“She might be," iii snickered, his eyes equally as pleased with the sight in front of him. “Let me clean your drool”, iv brings a napkin towards Vessel’s lips, one that the lead singer is quick to push away. “She would fit the next album," it’s barely a whispers, but they all fix their gaze on you now.

“I’ve seen her around," iii mutters, trying to think where it was, but the sea of people after a while just goes mushy. “Yeah, because you’ve been liking her pictures," iv says, crossing his arms over his chest. “As if that’s not weird. How the fuck would you know that?”, but the look iii shoots at his bandmate is met with a middle finger. "Vess, we already have the shoot planned for Friday”, ii is quick to interfere. He is always the most put-together one, making sure the plan stays where it should, once the ground rules are placed. "Yeah, but I don’t like what we got,"  Vess waves his hand around, “We need her," and here it is, no longer a maybe but the tone of a man who had set his mind. 

“She could be sleep”, it’s almost a plea as Vess looks among the guys. “Look at her."  Crocking his head to the side, Vess once again lets himself shamelessly admire you. “The hair, the skin, and the eyes, look at her eyes." As if feeling all four sets of eyes burning into your skin, you finally glance their way. And it’s as if, with your gaze alone, you had set off the panic. “Don’t look, don’t look,"  Vess hisses, head down, with iii grasping for his beer that nearly slipped through his fingers. “How old are we, three?”, iv hisses, placing his bottle down, before stepping forward. "Ivy,"  Vess catches his arm, but iv only gives him a serious look before adding, “This is creepy; we need to go talk to her, not gawk like a pack of creeps”. 

You watch him approach you. The confidence oozing off him feels infectious. As if the whole room is pulsing to the beat of him. "Hey," he says as he slides down the booth to get closer to you. "Hi," you greet him, smiling, as you shoot him a little wave. “Never seen you before," his voice is smooth, steady, and perky enough to make you guess that he’s smirking beneath the mask. “Is that why you were staring?”, you ask, watching his eyes. He chuckles lightly before lifting his hands up, “Caught red-handed." And you can’t help but chuckle alongside him. 

“I don’t know if you know...", iv starts after a moment. "Who you are?", you finish for him, and he visibly halts. Because that had been exactly what he was going to ask. “I do; I’m friends with Sam,"  you point to the man in question, who’s posing for a picture with a mask as well. 

“Lucky son of a bitch," iv mutters, watching him for a moment before pulling his gaze back to you. A slight silence falls. “Join us for a drink,"  he says, nodding towards the table he came from. You gaze there, earning a salute from ii. iii just lifts his bottle up. It’s Vess, whose eyes you can’t see, but you know that they are set on you. “Is this a kidnapping?”, you look up at iv. “Most definitely,"  he nods, and you’re quick to follow his actions. “Alright then.”

It feels as if an unexpectedly found puzzle piece that fit to Vess as he watches you in the glass little pool. The mesh material of your dress is soaked and floating all around you. And the rain installation slowly turning from clear to pitch black. Drowning you out in darkness. “That’s it,"  he hears the director shout, “Look up." But Vessel doesn’t even look at the actual footage the camera is getting; his gaze is glued on you. An actual vision in front of him. 

“She’s fucking good; you've got to give her that,"  ii mumbles as he too watches the shoot. All of them are here. They were never here for shit like this, but today they were almost first. “I need a picture with her; can we get her in some promo shit too?”, iii once again pushes the narrative he had been trying to shove down everyone’s throats the moment you agreed. “She might not want to,"  Vess trails off. “Have you asked?”, iii nudges him, like a kid who’s not getting the exact candy he was looking for. 

“Can you get horny from watching someone…", iii changes his tone, but iv is quick to clasp a hand over his mouth. “If you make her feel weird, I will de-ball you myself,"  he hisses, giving him a little shove. The crew helps you step out before someone is quick to drape a dry towel over your shoulders. “Here to investigate your investment?”, you shoot them a smile, surprised to see them here. Mostly because everyone reassured you that they would not be here. 

“I like to follow the process,"  Vessel blurts out. “Hope it’s up to your liking,"  you mutter right as he brushes the strand of hair away from your face. “More than exceeded my expectations." His words throw you off center for a heartbeat before a smile spreads across your face. “Mind taking more pictures?”, iv nods your way. Your shoulders sag lightly as you glance at the screen, “You don’t like these?” “Oh shit, not like that, I mean with us,"  he quickly adds. You look at them. Blinking slowly. “But you... you don’t take pictures like that,"  you frown slightly. You’ve read through the papers their management sent out this morning. There was the underlined part that said no content regarding bad members would be taken. “Just feel like changing shit up,"  Vess glances at the setup. “This won’t do, but I have an idea.”

What follows after that is a slight madman frenzy. You watch Vess explain exactly what he wants from the production team. Going as far as scribbling the placement of objects on paper. “Is he always like this?”, you ask after a moment. “Passionate?”, ii ask, and you’re quick to nod. “When inspiration strikes, yes," iii nods along. “He pretty much fell out of a second-floor bunk in the middle of the night once because a lyric came up in his head and he had nowhere to write it down."  A chuckle slips from ii’s lips, and you can’t help but glance at him. Having him be so talkative feels like a gift in a way. “That’s beautiful,"  you muse, “loving something so much." The boys simply hum in response before the makeup and clothes department ushers them in. 

“Vess will direct it from now; follow his lead; and don’t overthink it,"  the lady walking you back on stage, brushes your hand in reassurance. The place is a lot dimmer now. Yet the lights reflect off the water just as beautifully. There’s a drum set in the middle of the set, with extra support beams intact too. You frown slightly as you hand the tower off to your makeup artist. “Do you mind lying down?”, Vessel asks. “In the water?”, you ask, but Vess is quick to shake his head. “On the drums." You swallow, glancing at ii, who’s already standing by his seat. "Sure," you breathe out, stepping onto the rearranged platforms. His eyes follow your every move, and he’s quick to gesture to his chair, no doubt as a step stool for you to get on. 

“Let me help you," ii says, taking hold of your hands before steadying your steps. “Won’t I break it?", you ask, looking at the drums. “It’s a fake; even if it breaks, it doesn’t matter."  The smoothness of II's voice sends shivers down your spine as you step onto the drums before slowly lowering yourself down. ii’s hands stay nearby, you can feel their warmth but not their touch. Your eyes lock right as you sprawl out. Letting the top of your body bend over the set. 

"Fuck."  It’s so quiet and low that you’re sure you’ve imagined it. Someone warns you about the water before your body and the drums are drenched. “I’ll only hit the plates; don’t get spooked out," ii warns you, yet you don’t have a chance to answer. The drizzle picks up, you gaze up, meeting his eyes, and the sound around you erupts, alongside the flashes of the camera. It goes like that for a couple of minutes. It feels like forever and then a blink of your imagination. And then you’re being pulled back up. “Good?”, ii mutters. You nod, and he mimics your movement. “Good. It will be hard not to see you every time I look at my drums now,"  he admits before stepping aside, the prep team swarming all around you. Making your head dizzy. 

Someone’s saying something about how sets with guitars will be less challenging, and you catch the sight of iii stepping on with a mask you hadn’t yet seen. “Scary?”, he chuckles. "No,"  you say, shaking your head, feeling slightly breathless. “It’s... mesmerizing." He lets out a low laugh. “That’s a first." And within a heartbeat, you’re sitting in the water with iii towering over you. Your hands are snaking up his legs and lower stomach as you arch your head up to watch his face. There’s no way to read his emotions. However, the vein in his neck says enough. You’re aware of the flashes, but it’s as if that part of reality is not there. iii’s body disappears after a while, and then he’s right there, inches from your face, leaning forward to look right at you. 

iv strolls in almost immediately after. Sharing a look with iii as they pat each other on the shoulder. And then the man built on confidence is right in front of you. “Care for a cuddle?”, he muses, sitting down in the water and spreading his legs apart. You just stare at him. Feeling your head spin. “Do I need to sit you down?”, he shoots you a daring look, and you instantly sink to your knees. “You minx,"  he says, shaking his head, “Come on, lean against my chest." You follow his lead, sliding between his legs and letting your back rest against his chest. He pulls his guitar in front of you two. Your fingers slip onto his thighs, then slowly upon his arms and towards his guitar. Before you look up, to find his blue orbs watching you with unmatched insanity. “Get why you left II and III in shambles now,"  he says, ever so slightly brushing his masked lips against your ear. 

You feel in a trance by the time you see Vessel standing behind his keyboard stand. “Do you mind?”, you’re not sure what exactly he’s referring to, but you shook your head. And then you instantly regret not asking because his hands are around your waist as he lifts you onto the keyboard. You let out a slight shriek, and his face instantly turns to you. “It’s okay, it’s okay; just didn’t expect that,"  you’re quick to reassure him. “Just do what feels natural,"  Vess mutters before turning to step in front of the keyboard. You pull one of your legs up, bending it beneath you, and turn slightly so you can face him better. His fingers move over the keys, head down. You watch him for a moment before slowly reaching out. Fingers brushing the exposed part of his face before ever so slightly inching beneath the mask as you turn his face towards you. Trying to figure out why a man of such talent and power wasn’t all that quick to take control. 

“How much freaky is too freaky?”, you ask him. Vess crocks his head to the side before asking, “Have you seen us on stage?” You smirk, bring your other leg over the keyboard, spreading your legs enough to make room for Vessel to stand in between. “Own it then,"  you say, reaching for his hands, moving one to your hip and placing the other in the middle of your chest. “The question here is, what keys are you playing, Vess?” You stare right at him before leaning back. He’s quick to steady you. Leaving his hands where you had placed them before lifting the one resting on your chest up as if he’s pulling your soul out of your body, right as you arch your back. “Fucking vision, fucking sleep,"  Vess grunts under his breath, drinking in the sight of you. 

The photograph shouts cut, and you let yourself breathe for a moment before holding onto Vessel’s forearms as you pull yourself up. “You are something else,"  he grunts, helping you down, and you can tell that his hands linger. “They do say that I’m good at what I do."  You wink at him. “Wrapping four grown men around your finger, you mean?”, he smirks at you before nodding to the side. You glance up only to find three sets of eyes looking at you as if you had been a vision sent by god, or maybe the devil himself. 

[rubylace]

┄── ONLY YOU [제이크] 02

⌗MASTERLIST ⌗PREV ⌗NEXT

PAIRING senior!jake x junior!femreader

FEATURING (en) sunghoon. (ae) winter

WARN profanity, social dynamics, behavioral expectations, stereotypical characters

SYNOPSIS You has a best friend, the best friend a girl could ask for. He’s supportive, loyal, honest, trustworthy, kind, and thoughtful. He’s also the biggest player in school. Your relationship has always been easy and affectionate, but after your month long vacation, things become a little strange. You starts to look at him in ways that go way beyond the ‘friend zone’. Add in your best friend’s rival and things become a whole lot more complicated.

! likes, reblogs, comments are appreciatied ·

wc 8,996

You and Winter chatted whenever you could, whenever the teacher wasn’t looking and as you two walked between classes. She was really nice and you actually had a lot in common. She told you all about the school and how it works, pointing out people of interest, hot guys.

Or people to stay away from, clingy stalker types. She said that Jake and his three friends that you had met this morning were part of the football team and were the most popular and most sought, after boys in school.

You just smiled as she told you that. You already knew this little titbit of information about Jake, he had been with lots of girls. You didn’t actually have any secrets from each other, he openly admitted that didn’t want a girlfriend. He always joked that you was the only girl for him and that the others he just used for some fun because you wasn’t interested.

After History class you walked with Winter to lunch. As soon as you entered the cafeteria the room fell silent. You turned to Winter with a grimace, she just linked her arm through yours and pulled you to the lunch line. “I’m not hungry anymore.” You moaned, looking at the wide range of food they had available. You could hear people whispering behind you.

“Hey, Y/n. How was your morning?” Jake asked suddenly from behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you backwards into his chest. You breathed a sigh of relief at the safeness that you felt when he was near you and rested you head back on his shoulder. “It was okay,” you mumbled, looking over at Winter who was completely eye raping Jake, with her mouth slightly open.

“Jake, this is Winter. Winter, Jake.” You waved your hand around in introduction even though they probably knew who the other was, but then again maybe Jake didn’t know who she was, she was a junior the same as you and he was a senior so their paths had probably never crossed, unless it was a sexual path of course.

That last thought made a little frown slip onto your face. “Hey, Winter. Been looking after my girl for me?” he asked politely with a smile. She just carried on staring at him as if he hadn’t spoken. “O...kay,” he amused, chuckling.

“You obviously have an effect on the girls at this school. They all seem to hate me,” you whispered to him. “They don’t hate you. You’re being paranoid,” he replied, giving you a reassuring squeeze. “Really? Paranoid, huh?” You answered, turning slightly and nodding your head around.

Jake looked around and took in all the girls giving you hateful and jealous looks, but all of them smiling at him as soon as his eyes went in their direction. “Oh. Okay, maybe I shouldn’t hug you anymore then,” he suggested, stepping away and grinning at you.

“Get your butt over here now.” You hissed, pointing at your side and smiling at him. He chuckled wickedly as he threw his arm around your shoulder before loading two plates of chilli fries onto your tray and pushing you up to the cash register.

You reached into your schoolbag for your purse but he had already handed over the money and picked up the tray for you. “So, Winter, would you and her like to come sit with us?” he asked, nodding to the biggest table at the end of the cafeteria. It was filled with all the hottest people in the school, guys and girls alike. “Sure,” Winter replied, wide eyed. She looked so excited that she was probably fighting to urge to jump up and down.

Jake led you to the table. “Shift down, guys. Make room for my girl and her friend,” he ordered, waving his hand. Immediately, everyone moved up to make room for two extras. “Hey, Y/n. I’m looking forward to next period,” one boy said, giving you a sly wink. You chewed on the inside of you lip as you looked at him. He was hot again, brown hair sweeping over his forehead and dazzling brown eyes.

“What have you got next period?” Winter asked. You grimaced. “Gym,” you moaned, turning you nose up. Jake chuckled wickedly as he started munching on his fries. You was terrible at sports. The only thing you liked to do was running, you went for a run every morning with Jake before we went to school.

“Let’s see your schedule again,” Winter said, holding out her hand expectantly for it. You dug it out of your bag and put it in her outstretched hand. She scanned it over. “Hey I have French and English Lit with you too.”

“Oh I have Gym next period too. Maybe we could be partners,” another boy suggested, waggling his eyebrows and giving you a smirk.

“Enough! Leave her alone. I’ve already told you guys!” Jake barked, looking at them all in turn with an angry expression. You turned to look at Jake. Was he serious? “Jake, what? I can look after myself you know,” you stated, frowning.

He looked at you and his face softened. “I’m just looking out for you, Y/n. You don’t want anything to do with these jackoffs,” he explained, waving his hand around the table at his friends. “These jackoffs are your friends, Jake.” You countered, shaking your head at him.

“Exactly, I know how they think. So stay away,” he said venomously. Before you could stop yourself you kicked him under the table, your foot connecting with his shin. “Ouch! What was that for?” he accused, leaning down and rubbing his leg, scowling at you.

“For being an ass. I can talk to whoever I want, okay? Please don’t start with this whole thing again.” You begged, giving him your puppy dog face that you knew he couldn’t resist.

He snorted and shook his head. “Fine. Talk to whoever you want. Date whoever you want. Just don’t come crying to me when it all goes wrong,” he snapped, shoving his plate of food away from him angrily and getting up from the table, stalking off in the direction of the exit.

You looked at his retreating back confused as to what had just happened. But you knew you couldn’t let him be mad at you, you loved that stupid boy with everything you had. Instinctively you jumped out of your chair and ran after him.

When you got close enough you jumped on his back, wrapping your arms and legs tightly around him, catching him by surprise and almost knocking him over. You bent my head and kissed the side of his neck which made him laugh quietly. You smiled against his neck because you already knew that all was forgiven and forgotten.

A wicked plan formed in your head as you opened your mouth and sucked hard on the soft skin of his neck, giving him a hickey. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be all ungrateful. I know you’re looking out for me,” you told him.

His body seemed to relax under yours. “No, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that. You can talk to whoever you want. I was just trying to look out for you, honestly. These guys here aren’t good enough for you,” he said, shaking his head a little sadly.

You sighed and kissed your hickey on his neck as your stomach growled hungrily. “Can we go back and finish lunch now?” You asked. He nodded and turned around, wrapping his arms around your thighs so you didn’t have to hold on as much. When we got back to the table, he plopped you back into your chair.

Everyone was staring at you again. you rolled your eyes as Jake kissed the top of your head making the girls gasp and glare at you even more.

Jake sat back down opposite you and immediately Sunghoon’s eyes went wide. “Holy sh*t! You let her brand you?” Sunghoon shouted, pointing at Jake’s neck. “Brand me?” Jake repeated, confused, rubbing his hand on his neck.

“Yeah she gave you a freaking hickey!” Sunghoon stated and laughing. Jake shot his eyes to you. “You didn’t!” he accused, with a smile.

You nodded in response, trying not to laugh again. He just rolled his eyes and pulled the collar of his shirt up to cover it. He was always doing that to you so this was payback. Since you was ten years, when he first learn how to do them, he’d pinned you down and given you a hickey almost every week. He always says that he’s marking his territory like a cat marks with scent.

“Paybacks a b**ch, huh?” You teased, with a sly smile.

In Gym you were running track which was great for you. you loved to run and at least you wasn’t stuck in some stupid hall playing dodge ball or something. That would really suck.

The only trouble was you didn’t have any gym kit yet because as you had been away for a month. Winter had leant you her shorts, but because you was a lot taller than her, they were actually really short shorts. You didn’t even have a shirt to wear.

You grabbed your phone and text Jake asking if he had a spare one. A couple of seconds later he text back that he would wait for you outside the girls locker room. Everyone was ready so they all made their way out. As you stepped tentatively out of the door in your red shirt, you saw Jake leaning there waiting for you.

“Here.” He threw a huge white t-shirt at you. “Hurry up, or it will be fifty push-ups for both of you!” the teacher shouted turning to walk out of the door.

You quickly stripped off your shirt and replaced it with his t-shirt, then turned back to the locker rooms and threw your top in the pile of your stuff. When you turned back to face Jake, you saw him standing there with a pained look on his face.

“What’s up?” You asked, tying a knot in the back of his shirt to make it fit a bit better. He just shook his head but didn’t answer. Realisation hit you what was wrong with him. You’d just taken your shirt off in front of him.

Damn, great job. But it wasn’t really that big of a deal though, he’d seen you in bikinis a lot so it was just the same really. So why was he looking like that? You turned and ran for the field, dismissing his obvious unease. “Race ya!” You shouted over your shoulder because he was still standing stock still outside the locker room.

You were supposed to be running a mile, which was five laps of the circuit. You ran as fast as you could. You needed a head start because jeez that boy was a fast runner. After about a minute you heard him catching up behind you. As he ran past, he slapped your ass making you squeal from the shock and slight sting.

“Keep up, slow coach, or you’ll have to buy dinner tonight.” He laughed.

You took a deep breath and pushed your legs faster. You caught him up but you actually think he let you, there’s no way you could catch if he wanted to go. You two ran alongside each other, sending teasing insults back and forth, the same as every morning when you ran. You two were on the last lap now and you silently thanked God because you was completely worn out already.

“How about we make a bet?” Jake suggested, grinning. “What sort of bet?” You asked hesitantly, you could feel the sweat running down your back because of the effort. both were completely alone because no one else was taking this seriously. You were all just walking and chatting or having a leisurely jog.

“Okay well, if I beat you, you have to kiss someone of my choice. And if you beat me, then I’ll kiss someone of your choice. A proper kiss though, with tongues,” he suggested, smiling at you.

ⓘ ﹢taglist : @dreamiestay @heeseungthel0ml @lhspeachie @yoonzns @anittamaxwynnn @dojaejunging @illvding

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[be4chywritez]

tie the knot | logan sargeant

logan sargeant x piastri!reader

You and Logan officially tie the knot.

masterlist!

beachy’s notes🐚: reader is adopted

Logan had been in love with you since the day you punched another kid for calling him a loser.

That was when you were 12 and he was 13. Oscar teased him about it endlessly until Logan finally mustered the courage to ask you out. He remembers it so clearly.

You were both sitting on the dock of a lake where your parents had organized a get-together. Oscar had gotten bored of staring at the water and wandered off. Logan looked over at you and asked, "Have you ever had a boyfriend?"

You looked over, flushed, and shook your head. "No."

"Do you want a boyfriend?" he asked, his eyes flicking nervously to your lips. You scooted closer, your knees brushing against each other, both of you blushing at the contact.

"I think I do," you said, avoiding eye contact and staring off into the water. You heard him take a shallow breath.

"Do you want to be my girlfriend?"

You whipped your head towards him. "You want me to be your girlfriend?" you asked, shocked because the boy you’d had a crush on since you were twelve was asking you to be his girlfriend.

"Yeah, I thought you liked me," he said, flushing deep red and scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

"I do!" you blurted out too quickly. You cleared your throat. "Um, yeah, I do. I want to be your girlfriend." You smiled, and he let out a breath of relief.

"Oh, thank God. I was nervous you didn't like me and that would be—"

You cut him off with a kiss. You weren't sure if you were kissing him right, your lips awkwardly pressing against his. He didn't pull away, but his hands hesitated before gently holding your arms. You pulled away, both of your cheeks flushed. "Was that good?" you asked, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Yeah, it was good," he smiled, looking just as flustered as you felt.

You both went back to watching the lake, sitting closer together now, your shoulders touching shyly. Occasionally, you pointed out a fish flopping in the water, stealing glances at each other and giggling nervously.

Logan watched you talk to Lily, both of you wearing smiles on your faces. You waved goodbye to her as she walked back to the side of Alex’s garage.

Looking back up, you noticed Logan watching you, and you flushed. Even now, he never failed to make you blush. He leaned against the counter, a relaxed smile on his face. “Hey, babe,” he said, reaching over to peck your lips.

“How are you feeling today?” you asked as he pulled away, your hand running along his arm.

“I think we can get up to at least P15,” he said, meeting your gaze and letting out a sigh.

You grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. “You’re going to score points. I know it,” you said, giving his arm one last squeeze before he was beckoned to his car by the engineers.

You let out a breath, watching him get into the car. Quickly, you sent Oscar a text, knowing he wouldn’t see it until later.

Good luck, Oz. Love you.

Slipping on the headset, you listened in to the engineers. Each time Logan overtook another car, your heart squeezed, and your hands gripped your handbag tightly. By lap 56, Logan was in P10. Nico tried overtaking him, but Logan defended his position brilliantly. You shot up from your seat, cheering, and his mechanics did the same, celebrating his performance.

A few engineers came over to hug you as well. When Logan returned, drenched in sweat, he received pats and hugs from the pit crew members. Making his way towards the back of the garage, he smiled at you. “I’m all sweaty, babe,” he said.

“I don’t care, Logan,” you replied with a smile, pulling him into a hug. You whispered into his ear, “I knew it.”

He pulled away slightly, staring at you with a look of realization and love. In that moment, he knew he was going to propose.

-

You threw a pillow at Oscar’s face. “What should I wear, pants or a dress?” you asked.

He sat up, rubbing his eyes. “Aren’t you just going to dinner?”

You rolled your eyes. “Knowing Logan, he’s going to want to dip his toes in the water.”

Oscar hummed in agreement. “Dress,” he decided, pulling out his phone to text Logan.

She has no clue. Stop stressing.

Logan replied quickly.

What color is she wearing? I want to match.

Oscar groaned. “Gross, happy couples,” he muttered.

You peeked your head out of the bathroom. “What?”

He flushed. “Nothing.”

“So, how do I look?” you asked, stepping out fully dressed. Oscar looked up from his phone lazily, giving you a thumbs-up.

You groaned, throwing another pillow at his head. “You are literally no help.”

Just then, the doorbell rang, and your mom called out that Logan was here. You dashed out of your room, making your way downstairs quickly.

Logan looked dashing, his shirt matching your dress perfectly. He held a bouquet of flowers and smiled warmly when he saw you. “For you, my love,” he said, handing you the flowers.

You pecked him on the lips and handed the flowers to your mom. “Mom, can you put these in water?” you asked.

She nodded, smiling. “Of course. You two have fun.”

Logan walked you to his car, opening the door for you. Once he got into the driver’s seat and started the car, you looked over at him. “So, where are we going?”

“Well, I got us dinner reservations, and then we can go for a walk on the beach,” he said, pulling away from the driveway.

After dinner, Logan drove you to a secluded part of the beach. The moonlight reflected off the water, casting a silvery glow over the sand. He took off his shoes, and you followed suit, both of you walking barefoot along the shore, the cool water lapping at your feet.

As you walked, you noticed a set of candles arranged in a heart shape on the sand ahead. You laughed, nudging Logan playfully. “Looks like someone’s getting proposed to tonight,” you joked.

Logan smiled, his eyes twinkling. “Yeah, it does, doesn’t it?”

You turned to look at him, and your breath caught in your throat. Logan was down on one knee, holding a small box in his hand. “Y/N Piastri,” he began, his voice filled with emotion, “from the moment you stood up for me ten years ago, I knew you were someone special. You’ve been my rock, my best friend, and my greatest supporter.”

Tears welled up in your eyes as he continued. “We’ve grown up together. You make me a better person; I can’t imagine my life without you. You are my everything, and I want to spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.”

He opened the box to reveal a beautiful ring. “Y/N, will you marry me?”

You nodded, your hands covering your mouth in shock and joy. “Yes, Logan! Yes, I will marry you!”

He slipped the ring onto your finger and stood up, pulling you into a tight embrace. You kissed, feeling the magic of the moment surround you. The awkwardness of your first kiss was a distant memory, replaced by the deep, unwavering love you shared.

Suddenly, you heard cheers and claps coming from behind the nearby dunes. You turned to see your family and Logan’s family emerging from their hiding spots, all of them beaming with happiness. Oscar was at the front, a proud smile on his face.

“Oh my god, you all were in on this?” you asked, laughing through your tears.

Oscar walked up to you, pulling you into a tight hug. “Of course we were. Logan wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You hugged him back, feeling a surge of gratitude and love. “Thanks, Oz. This means so much to me.”

Oscar pulled back, a teasing glint in his eye. “Just remember, you still owe me for all the times I covered for you two.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Deal.”

Your three sisters ran up to you next, each one taking turns to hug you tightly.

Logan stood back, watching the interaction with a warm smile. He shared a look with his own family, who were all just as thrilled. Your mom and dad approached, hugging both of you tightly.

“We’re so proud of you both,” your mom said, her voice choked with emotion.

Logan’s parents joined in, his mom wiping away tears. “Welcome to the family, Y/N,” she said, her smile radiant.

The moment was beautifully chaotic, with everyone talking, hugging, and celebrating at once. As the group settled down, Logan looked down at you, watching as you animatedly talked to your sister. In that moment, he knew he had made the right decision.

[bts-princess7]

Best friend’s dad (KTH X fém!reader)

Summary: your best friend since high school has always loved having you over, but he dad barely tried to say hi to you. If he ever did talk to you, it would be him telling you you did something wrong. That is, until the night of her graduation, when he’s forced to give you a ride.

Genre: angst, smut, teeny bit of fluff

Warnings: age gap (Tae is 42, reader is 20), penetrative sex, unprotected sex, choking, Tae is mean, slapping, Tae is a lil crazy, rough sex, sorta kidnapping, orgasm denial, oral (f&m receiving), spanking, hair pulling, hickeys, cute lil ending.

A/N: lmk if I should do a part 2 bc I have some ideas🤫. Not proofread cus i rlly wanted to post it & it’s long (the story & sumthn else). Enjoy!!

You sat across the table from your best friend, Milly’s dad. Milly had been your best friend since you transferred to the school, she was a year younger than you and it was hard for the both of you after your grad last year.

Currently, you were at Milly’s grad, her and her mom were in the bathroom, leaving you alone with her dad, Mr. Kim.

Your best friends dad had never liked you, even though he’s never said it out loud, his body language made it pretty clear.

Whenever you were over he would either hide in his room or stay on the couch the whole time, trying his hardest to ignore your presence. “What do you want?”

His voice made you jump, only then did you realize that while you zoned out, you were staring right at him. “Nothing,” you rested your chin in your hand, looking at the entrance. You desperately tried to manifest Milly and Mrs. Lin in the doorway.

Taehyung and Serine had gotten a divorce a few years ago, she had no bad blood with him, but you weren’t sure that went both ways. They got together the odd time for important events such as graduation.

You couldn’t blame her, she was such a sweet person and he was the complete opposite. Although, you could also tell why she’d put up with him for so long.

The man was gorgeous, and from what you could tell from family photos, he hadn’t aged since he was 26. There were a handful of him when he was with a younger Milly, those were the only ones around his house.

From the first time you met Taehyung, you always knew his looks were the very first thing people noticed, it was what you noticed. “Y/n,” he snapped you out of your thoughts once again. Somehow, anytime you did zone out, your eyes landed back on him. “You keep staring, what do you want?”

His voice was low and stern, as if he’d rather not be in the same country as you. “I already said it was nothing,” you rolled your eyes.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me,” he sneered, an intensity in his voice. “All I did was ask you a question, don’t be a brat.”

You straightened yourself, pointing a finger at him. “I ans-“

“We’re back!” Mrs. Lin gave you a sweet smile, taking her seat next to you. You curled your hands in your lap, deciding to keep your mouth shut.

Taehyung raised an eyebrow at you, you swore you saw his lip curl up in a smirk. He knew he won the argument, as he usually did when the two of you argued.

“Are you guys done?” Milly gestured to your empty plates, you both nodded. She’d received her certificate and the school provided a full meal, you were a bit jealous, her meal was better than yours.

“Perfect, then we can head to the after party!” Milly clapped her hands, grabbing your wrist and pulling you up.

You made your way to where both her parents cars were parked, she opened the front passenger door and got in, you tried to open the back but it was locked. “Milly, the doors locked.”

She rolled down the window, Mrs. Lin came up beside you. “Everything alright, dear?” She asked you, placing her hand on the small of your back.

“Yes of course, the doors just locked.” You told her, Milly pressed the unlock button on the door.

“I’m going home, you girls have fun.” Taehyung walked past you to Mrs. Lin’s car, waving you off.

“You’re not coming to the after party?” She stomped around the back of the car, grabbing the sleeve of his leather jacket. If there was one thing you knew about Taehyung, it’s that he knew style.

“If you’re taking the girls then there’s no point of me being there.” He shrugged her off, she let out a frustrated sigh.

“Y/n can go with you,” she looked at you with desperate eyes. You knew she wanted Milly’s dad to be present, but this was the one thing you wouldn’t do. You shook your head. “Come on, it’s a 10 minute drive!”

“Mrs. Lin that’s not a good idea, maybe Milly could go with her dad?” You looked at Milly, she ignored you and rolled the window back up. She knew how much you two hated each other, and you also knew she wouldn’t waste the opportunity to throw you into a situation like this. You looked back up at Mrs. Lin, she looked at you with pleading eyes and you couldn’t say no. “Fine.”

“Thank you!” She came over and gave tou a tight hug, you smiled into her shoulder. She hurried around the front of the car and got in behind the wheel. “Just follow us to the hotel and let us know when you get there.”

You nodded and she pulled away, there they went, your only chance of peace. You looked through the empty parking spot at Taehyung, his eyebrows furrowed and a heavy scowl pointed in your direction. “Fuck,” he shook his head.

You huffed, reluctantly making your way to the car. You pulled open the passenger side door, sliding onto the cool leather seat of his car.

As soon as you closed the door, you were flooded with the scent of his cologne. It was a sweet, woody scent, you could also smell a faint hint of cigarettes. You knew he smoked, but he was pretty good at hiding it.

He slid into the drivers seat, shoving his keys into the dash. You looked away from him, staring straight out the window in front of you. He pushed the car into drive and pulled out of the parking lot, the light turned yellow as soon as he turned onto the road.

Little did you know, this was going to be the theme of the night. Each red light irked him more, and you could tell. His jaw was clenched, knuckles turning white from his grip on the steering wheel. “Roll down your window,” he grumbled.

You did as he said, he rolled down his own and pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, taking advantage of the red light to light his cigarette. He lit the end and threw the lighter onto the centre console before pressing the gas once the light was greens.

He hollowed his cheeks as he breathed in the smoke, highlighting his cheekbones in the dim light. Damn, he looked good. He stuck his head out the window and blew out the smoke.

“I think you do want something, because you’ve been staring at me all night.” He took another puff, this time blowing it in your direction.

“I don’t want shit,” you scowled, waving your hands in front of your face. “I didn’t even want you to drive me here, if it weren’t for Serine I’d be with them and you’d be at home drinking until you get a massive hangover.” You pointed an incriminating finger at him, crossing your legs.

He slammed on the breaks once he pulled in the parking lot, he threw his cigarette out the window and rolled them up. He twisted his torso to face you, his strong hand came up to grip your face, turning your head to face him.

His eyes were fiery, boiling into yours. It made your stomach flip, your hands flew to the sides of your seat. “You don’t fucking talk to me like that in my car, you got that?”

His hand squeezed your face harder, making you let out a little whimper. He shook his head, laughing lowly. “Don’t you start acting like you’re scared now, if you can be all bratty with me in the restaurant and have the audacity to bitch at me in my car,” he paused, savouring the terrified expression on your face. “Then you can deal with the pissy attitude you’re gonna get from me.”

You let out a huff, you were about to cross your arms when he pulled your face closer to his, your nose nearly touched his, you could smell the cigarettes on his lips. “What are yo-“

“Shut up,” he slapped the side of your face. Your jaw dropped, you couldn’t believe what he just did. You never thought you would ever be this close to Taehyung, the intensity of the situation almost arousing you. Before you could say anything else, his hand came back on your face. “You fucking like it!”

“I do not!” You yelled back, as best as you could with his hand squishing your cheeks together. Your eyes met his, the pure anger in his eyes still present, but fading.

“I don’t believe you,” he tilted his head to the side, looking deeper into your eyes. “I can tell just by the way you’re looking at me,” he smirked, then a look of realization came over his face.

His thumb came up and rubbed against your bottom lip, your thighs squeezed together, gaining his attention. “That’s why you keep staring at me, isn’t it?” He patronized, his free hand slid up your knee, slipping between the slit of your dress. His warm fingers grasped your upper thigh, digging into the skin. “Every time you zone it’s cus you’re thinking of me, isn’t it? They aren’t very holy, are they?”

“Mr. Kim this is-“

“That’s not what you call me in your dreams is it?” He moved forward, pressing your back against the passenger side door. He was so close to you, his thumb tugged your lip down, eyes scanning your body.

You cowered under his gaze, your hands came up to his wrist, trying to tug his hand away from your face. “It’s not what you think, I was just thinking!” You tugged harder, he gave you a shove and pulled his hand away.

“You want my hand off your face?” He growled, unbuckling his seatbelt, he leaned over the console and wrapped his hand around your neck. You were so caught off guard that you couldn’t stop the moan that slipped out from your lips, he looked at you with a fierce look in his eyes. “You like that, huh? I fucking knew it,” he shook his hand, your torso bouncing forward.

“No!” You countered, his hand came away from your thigh and grabbed your wrists, pinning them over your head onto the window.

“Stop arguing,” he commanded, squeezing your back tighter.

“Gonna be- late,” you managed, trying to take deeper breaths.

“Then admit it,” he sneered, bringing your face impossibly closer to his. “Admit that you have dreams just like this.”

“Tae- let me-“

“It’s so simple, all you have to do it admit it. Admit that you have nasty dreams about me, admit that just the thought of me gets you wet,” he growled.

“Fuck fine!” You broke down, he loosened his grip on your neck. “You make me so wet, I have horrible, sexual dreams about you all the time!” You took a deep breath, trying to look away in embarrassment.

“Now you’re shy?” He teased, sticking out his lip in a mock pout. “Look at me,” his hand came off of your throat and back up to your chin.

Reluctantly, you turned back to him, your cheeks were bright red and your face was contorted in a look of shame.

“From now on, you call me Taehyung, you got that?” He waited for you to nod before continuing. “You’d better listen to me for the rest of the night or else you won’t be getting a ride home. Got that?” You nodded again. “Use your words, bitch.”

“Yes Taehyung,” you forced the words out of your body. No matter how scared of him you were, there was still a bone in your body that told you not to submit to him.

“Good girl,” his voice was deep. His usual, deep honey-like voice was raspy and thick with lust. You let out a small gasp, you couldn’t believe his words.

Taehyung gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger, holding you still while he moved closer. His lips met yours softly, he only stayed for a moment before pulling back. “Don’t wanna be late,” he mocked you, opening his door.

You rolled your eyes once he got out, you got out of the car and followed him towards the entrance. He held the door for you, you hummed in acknowledgment and paced to the front desk. “Hi, we’re here for the grad after party,” you gave the man the name of your old school.

“Of course, it’s on the fifth floor.” He gave you a plastic hospital looking bracelet that the valet would check at the door, he gave another one to Taehyung.

He followed you to the elevator, you clicked on the up arrow and stepped back from the door. A group of people filed out, leaving the elevator to the two of you.

Taehyung pressed the 5 button on the elevator and the doors closed, your stomach tensed when he turned back to you. He didn’t say anything, he moved beside you and stood at your side, the cool leather of his jacket brushed against your arm.

On the second floor the doors opened again, a group of people came in, all in suits and chatting about business. They clicked a button and the elevator started moving again, you let out a squeak when you felt his hand brush against your ass.

You looked around, no one heard you. Your eyes panned up to Taehyung, he sported a smirk and only you knew why. His hand slipped from the small of your back to your ass, large hand squeezing the soft flesh.

You reached behind you and grabbed his wrist, giving his wrist a squeeze as a warning. All this did was make him squeeze harder, your muscles clenched.

Suddenly you were saved by the ding of the elevator. Taehyung pulled his hand away and you squeezed past the people in front of you. The hallways had arrows pointing to the room where the party was held.

“Go have fun,” he gestured towards the door. “I’ll be near the door whenever you’re done.” He reached out to grab the door knob, pausing to look back at you. “I shouldn’t have to say this, but you’d better not get too close to anyone, understand?”

“I won’t,” you promised. He still didn’t move, you swallowed hard. “I won’t, Taehyung.”

“There we go,” he gave you a small smile. He opened the door and you showed your bracelets to the bouncer. Once you got past, he leaned down to your ear. “Milly and Sienne don’t hear about this, or I’ll have to do something about it.” With this, he disappeared into the crowd.

You stood still, eyes scanning the crowd for Milly, before you decided to stop and think for a minute. You hadn’t even thought of what happened with Taehyung, the stoic man who’s barely uttered more than a sentence to you at a time, just made you confess to your dreams, kissed you, and threatened to leave you on the side of the road if you didn’t “behave.”

As much as you’d fantasized about him touching you, you never thought he’d patronize you in that way. Who the hell was he to tell you to behave, tell you to be good, he wasn’t your father.

You crossed your arms, there was no way he was gonna do that to you again. No fucking way. Just thinking about it made you feel stupid, all those years of standing up to him and arguing just so that you would cower under a single touch.

You weren’t some weak kid, you were an adult and he wasn’t gonna treat you like that. You turned around to go find him and give him a piece of your mind, when you ran right into Milly.

“Y/n! I saw dad a few minutes ago,” she stopped, raising an eyebrow at you. “You don’t look very happy.”

“Of course I’m not happy, Milly.” You sighed, taking a deep breath. “I just spent 10 minutes in the car with your dad, I don’t mean to be a downer, but he’s really just-“

“Difficult? Yea I know, but seeing the look on both of your faces was so worth it!” She laughed, pointing at your angry expression. “Now come on, you’ll never have to have another car ride with my dad after tonight, promise.” She drew and X over the left side of her chest, giving you a sympathetic smile.

“Fine, but only because it’s for you.” You rolled your eyes, you were so easily persuaded by her. You always remembered that she was the only reason you put up with the man, especially after arguments.

The rest of the party was amazing, they had an amazing playlist and you and Milly danced for hours, with people, with each other, with her mom. The party seemed to go on for hours, and Taehyung was no where to be found.

By the time midnight rolled around, you and Milly were both ready to go home. You to your apartment and her to her mom’s, you followed her to find Mrs. Lin. “Y/n, you’re going with dad, remember?” She yawned, but her comment snapped you back to reality.

Of course she wasn’t gonna let this slide, you said goodbye and wandered through the crowd to find Taehyung, or anyone you knew who could drive you home.

You recognized your French teacher and almost tapped her shoulder before someone yanked yours, you turned around and sure enough, it was Taehyung. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Trying to find you,” you told him, then softer. “Or another ride.” You gasped when he grabbed your arm, squeezing your wrist as a sign of warning.

“Tae, you’re good to take her home, right?” Mrs. Lin came up behind him, he quickly let go of your wrist, turning to face her. “Because if not I can just bring her back home and-“

“I’ll be fine, it’s on the way home anyway.” His voice sounded nonchalant, but you knew there was rage somewhere in there. He was right about that though, your apartment was in walking distance.

“Thanks Tae, call me if anything’s wrong!” She skipped to the door, where Milly waved in your direction.

“Let’s go,” Taehyung stormed out in front of you, not bothering to pull you along. You hurried after him, his stride was much longer than yours, so you had to take two steps more than he did just to keep up.

“Slow down!” You shouted, he paused and turned around, taking a step towards you. He pointed a threatening finger in your direction, getting closer to your face.

“You shout at me one more time and you see what fucking happens, you hear me?” He growled, his voice deep and stern.

“What the fuck, I’m-“

“A fucking brat, that’s what you are.” He grabbed the sides of your face, gripping it roughly. “And someone’s gonna have to teach you how to behave.” He pulled his hand away just to slap your face, grabbing it between his hands again.

“Let go,” you grabbed his wrist. You tried to pull his hand away, but his grip was too strong.

“Why?” His voice was soft, almost condescending. “Just a second ago you wanted me to wait for you, and now you’re trying to get away?”

He pulled his hand away and pressed the down button on the elevator behind him. The hallway was empty, to your liking, you didn’t need anyone seeing this and didn’t want anyone to either.

The elevator ride was silent, he stayed on the opposite the elevator, not bothering to spare you a glance.

You followed him to his car, once again silently sliding into the passenger seat. The car ride home was dead silent, he didn’t even turn on the radio. The only noise there was was the hum of the engine and other cars outside.

When you turned onto your street you went to unbuckle your seatbelt, but he didn’t slow down. “Hey slow down,” your voice broke the silence, but it didn’t phase him.

His foot stayed steady on the gas, driving past your apartment. “What the fuck! Taehyung! Slow down, you missed the apartment!” You cried, you reached down to pull on the door handle but the door was locked, of course it was. “You’re crazy, you’re fucking insane!”

“What did I say about yelling, huh?” He demanded, taking a sharp turn down the road and into the driveway of his house. “I told you to keep your voice down, and you didn’t listen to me.”

He parked the car and shoved the keys into his pocket. “Now, you’re gonna see what happens when you don’t behave.” His hand flew down to his hips, unbuckling his belt and pulling it out of the loops. “You’re gonna come into the house with me,” he explained.

You tried to push him away, but to no avail. His big hand gripped the back of your neck, pressing the right pressure points to make your body stiffen. With the other hand, he shoved part of the belt into your mouth and tied it right around the back of your head. “And you’re gonna be quiet, try not to wake the neighbours.”

Taehyung got out of the car, unlocking your door only when he was close enough to grab you. He dragged you into his house, locking the car and the door before finally turning back to you. “You know, I bet we’d get along just fine if you weren’t such a bitch.”

His words stung, he’d insulted you before, but somehow they hurt more now that you were in such a vulnerable situation. He took the belt out of your mouth, discarding it on the floor. “But that’s what you thrive off of, isn’t it? You live for these arguments, don’t you?”

You shook your head, he moved closer to you, making you backup until you body was pressed between his and the counter. “Of course it is, you told me it is.”

Your hands came up to his chest, hesitating between pushing him away or letting it happen. “Are you gonna go back home?” His question surprised you, you thought you could hear doubt in his voice. “You gonna go home and rub one off, huh? Think about me again or stay and see what happens?”

“I- uh stay,” you murmured, avoiding eye contact with him. He let out a low hum, presumably one of satisfaction, and turned your head back to face him.

“Look at me,” he instructed, hand falling down to the flimsy strap on your shoulder. His other hand held his weight on the counter behind you, his eyes panned your body once again, observing your curves in your skintight dress, your chest heaving up and down, and your thigh that stuck out of the slit of your dress.

His eyes came up to meet yours once more, a coy smile displayed on his lips. “Good girl,” he whispered. The words sent shivers through you, your fingers gripped the smooth leather of his jacket. His eyes poured into yours, the rage barely present and lust taking over.

His lips smashed into yours, locking you in a kiss that was much more intense than the peck you shared earlier that night.

His hands came up and grabbed a fistful of your hair, directing your head however he wanted. His other hand slid both of your straps off your shoulders, the lacy bra you wore becoming more and more exposed.

His hand came down to your chest and squeezed one of your tits, making you moan into the kiss. His thumb swiped over the middle of your breast, feeling your stiff nipple through the thin fabric of your bra.

His hand directed your head to the side, his tongue prodded at your bottom lip, your lips parted for him and let his tongue inside. He tasted like bourbon and cigarettes, he must’ve gotten his hands on a drink at the party.

Your tongues danced together, him quickly gaining dominance. His teeth bit at your bottom lip, dragging it out then letting go when he pulled back. “Come with me,” his arm slid around your waist and lead you to his bedroom.

His hand came to your back and gave you a harsh shove, sending you flying to the bed. Your body was squished against the bottom of the bed, bent over on the mattress.

You tried righting yourself when a hand came down on your back shoving you down against the mattress. “Feeling brave now, Y/n?” His fingers dig into your back, you were sure they would leave bruises.

You mumbled in response, your head was turned to the side on the mattress. “I thought I told you to use your words.” He tsked, pressing you harder into the mattress. “Answer my question, are you still feeling brave?”

“No,” you squeaked, struggling against his hand. The attitude you previously had fading, you weren’t scared of him, but you knew he could over power you in a second.

“That’s right,” he grabbed one of your legs and lifted it, sliding your body onto the bed with ease. “Because I have you all to myself now, I can do whatever I want.” He leaned down and moved your hair away from your neck, his lips pressing against the sensitive skin.

His tongue came out of his mouth and wet your skin, he sucked small marks into the side and back of your neck. Deep red blotches appearing each time he moved away, you let out a whine.

His hand slid down your back, taking a handful of the soft flesh of your ass. He moved your dress up, the fabric pooling at your waist. He let out a groan when he reached down between your legs, you bit your lip and grabbed onto the arm that steadied himself on the bed.

“Fuck, look at you.” His fingers reached past your panties and rubbed through your folds. His finger stopped at your clit, giving your swollen nun a few rubs.

“Fuck Tae, please!” You cried, trying to grind onto his fingers.

“Now you want it, huh?” He sneered, he sounded like a hungry animal watching his prey. “Hate to break it to you, but you’ve gotta earn it.”

He took his hand away from your core, you whined out in loss. He grabbed your shoulders and pulled you up to your knees, you arched your back, waiting to see what he would do next.

He sat on the bed in front of you, putting his legs on either side of your body. “You’re gonna suck it, baby.” He patted his lap, an obvious bulge forming in his jeans. “Okay?”

You nodded, he smiled and reached up to move your hair out of your face. Your hands hesitantly reached for his jeans, toying with the button and zipper.

You felt dirty, what you were doing was dirty. Your fantasy was finally coming true and yet you were hesitant, you reached into his pants, pressing your palm against his dick.

Taehyung let out a groan, he didn’t realize how touch starved he’d been. He barely got out and hardly ever bothered to touch himself, he’d always suspected you were sweet on him, but now he knew he was right.

“Take it out,” he instructed, rolling his hips up into your palm. “Don’t be shy now, you’ve finally got what you want.” His fingers brushed underneath your chin, biting his lips.

Your hand dipped into his boxers and wrapped around his length, you carefully pulled it out, your mouth watered at the sight.

You’d always assumed it was big but you never expected this, his cock was long, from what you could tell it was 7, maybe 8 inches. The thing that surprised you the most was how thick it was, you could barely wrap your whole hand around it.

“Looks so good,” you licked your lips, your teeth coming out to bite your bottom lip.

“Have a taste,” he wrapped his hand in your hair, pushing your head down a bit. You dropped to your elbows so you were face level with his cock, you looked at him with a look of want.

You licked a stripe up the bottom of his length, feeling the ridges of his veins against your tongue. He let out a delicious moan, encouraging you to do it again.

Your tongue licked through the slit on his tip, gathering the pre cum rolling out of it. You wrapped your mouth around his head, letting out a groan at his taste. “I think you can do better than that, huh?”

His hand gave your head a small nudge, pushing you down further on his length. You let him push you, controlling your movements. “Fuck yes, use that fucking tongue.”

He pushed you down until you gagged on his cock, barely making it halfway down. You moaned around his length, hollowing your cheeks around him. He moved you up and down faster, wet, gagging sounds coming from your mouth as you moved.

The phone rang, making you jump, but Taehyung still had his hand on the back of your head, easing you back down. He reached over and grabbed his house phone, “It’s Milly, so you’re gonna have to be quiet for me.”

He gave you a stern look, answering the phone. “Yea?” He answered the phone dully, rolling his hips up into your mouth, testing your gag reflex.

“Hey dad, is Y/n at your place?” Her question made him tense, you froze, but his hand kept moving.

“I dropped her off at her apartment, why?” His voice was stern, you assumed he’d know how to handle it, you could tell by the tone of his voice.

“She won’t answer my calls, and when I checked her location it said that she was still at your place.” Milly whined, Taehyung rolled his eyes.

“She might have left her phone in my car,” he explained. “Even so, it’s like 1 in the morning she’s probably asleep.”

He looked down at you, biting his lip as he made you move faster, making it harder for you to stay quiet. “I’ll just go check on her tomorrow, night dad.”

“K, goodnight.” He didn’t wait for a response and hung up the phone, throwing it back onto the receiver. “Good girl, staying quiet for me.”

You hum in response, feeling his cock twitch on your tongue. He pulled your head off of his cock, the flushed head of his cock hitting the fabric of his shirt.

“Strip,” he told you. You didn’t waste time, you stood up off of his bed and reached for the zipper on the back of your dress.

“Can you help me?” You turned back to him, biting your lip. You widened your eyes, he nodded and you moved back to him.

His warm fingers came up to the zipper, they brushed against your back, making you shiver. He pulled the zipper down, taking his time. He gave your ass a small tap to let you know he was done, you shimmied the straps down your arms, pulling the dress off of your chest until it looked at your feet.

“Turn around,” he instructed. You did as he said, holding your hands together in front of you, heat rising to your cheeks. “You look so good,” he muttered, licking his lips. “Come here.”

Taehyung held out his arms, guiding your body to lay across his lap. His fingers hooked into the sides of your panties, pulling them off in one go. “So wet, and all for me.”

His fingers spread you open, letting him get a better look. “As much as I’d love to just dive in, I didn’t forget how bratty you were earlier.”

His hand came up to caress your ass, lifting his hand off for a moment and coming down with a loud smack. You let out a yelp, tensing as he rubbed the wounded flesh. “That hurt!” You grumbled, looking up at Taehyung. His lip stuck out in a mock pout.

“Really? That’s the point, baby.” He layed another harsh smack on your ass, leaving a handprint from the force.

You whimpered, holding onto his strong thigh beneath you. He was relentless, going from side to side making it feel like he hit harder each time. By the time he was done, your flesh was bright red and sensitive. “Had enough, Y/n?”

“Yes,” you mumbled, voice shaking while you tried your hardest to hold back tears.

“Learn your lesson?” He asked, rubbing your ass to soothe the burn he’d caused. “Won’t disobey me again, right?”

“No, I’ll be good.” You promised, sniffling.

“There you go, pretty.” He pulled you up onto his lap, you threw a leg over his and straddled his lap, folds sliding on his angry cock. “You’re okay,” he chided, brushing tears away from your cheeks with his thumb. “So pretty when you cry for me.”

He brought your face closer to his, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss. He was softer than before, but it didn’t last long before he flipped you onto your back. “Stay,” he commanded.

He slid off the bed, dropping his jeans and boxers, he shrugged off the jacket, revealing his toned arms. You’d seen him without a shirt previously, and for his age, he was built well. His torso was toned, his skin was smooth and everything in his body seemed to be fully functional, you were about to find out just how functional one part was.

He pulled his shirt over his head, muscles flexing as he threw it to the side. His shoulders were broad and tanned, you licked your lips as he crawled back on top of you. “Why don’t we lose this, yeah?”

He tugged on the middle part of your bra, you nodded and let him reach behind you, undoing the clasp and pulling it away. He shoved his face between your breasts, sucking spots into the soft flesh. “Oh fuck!”

You moaned when his teeth grazed your nipple, wrapping mouth around it and tongue toying with the sensitive bud. He took his time moving to your neglected breast, giving it the same treatment as the other one.

He made his way down your abdomen, making eye contact with you as he reached your pelvis. His hands roughly groped your thighs, forcing them apart.

“Didn’t get to taste you earlier,” his thumb toyed with your clit, making your hips stutter. He licked a stripe up your core, gathering your slick on his tongue. “You’re so sweet,” he told you, dipping his tongue into your folds.

You let out moan after moan, feeling him dip his tongue into your hole, which immediately made you clench around him. “You like that, huh? Fucking dirty girl,” he shook his head, tongue flat against your clit.

“Taehyung- fuck!” Your hand flew down to his hair, gripping his firm black locks. He kept going, suckling your pussy like a madman. You felt one digit enter you, his fingers felt so much better than yours. They were long and slender, reaching places inside of you that you could only dream of.

“Pull me closer, fuck,” he groaned, affected by the grip you had on him. You tangled your hand tighter in his hair, gripping him against you tightly.

Your hips quivered, shaking under his touch. “Fuck, fuck so close,” you whimpered, your breath becoming shallow when he added another finger. You clamped your fingers tighter around his hair as your orgasm approached, when he suddenly pulled away.

Your grip weak, he was able to slip out of your grasp. “So soon? I barely touched you,” he tsked, shaking his head. “Think I’m gonna let you cum on my fingers, huh? Oh I don’t think so,” he chuckled, he could tell you were pissed.

He waited for you to say something, but you kept your mouth shut, you knew he’d wait longer to give you what you wanted if you argued with him. “Good girl, I guess you’ve learnt your lesson.”

He knelt over you, dropping down to his forearms to press his lips to yours. You welcomed him in immediately, shoving your tongue past his lips. You took a deep breath through your nose, basking in his scent.

You could feel his cock rub against your leg, pre cum dripping from his tip and rubbing onto your smooth thigh. His lips sucked on yours, tongues diving into the others with an unmentioned passion.

Taehyung pulled back, his lips were pink and swollen, you were sure yours looked the same. “You want this, baby?” He reached down, fisting his cock and tapping it against your leg gently.

“Yes, yes please.” You begged, but he didn’t move. “Taehyung please,” you reached up and grabbed him by the hair, pulling his upper body onto yours.

“What do you call me in your dreams?” He demanded, planting a wet kiss on your jaw. “I can’t believe you call your best friend’s dad by first name, do you baby?”

“Please, I need your cock,” you paused, he looked up at you. “Dadd-“ you murmured.

“What’s that baby? I couldn’t hear you,” he teased, ready to line himself up with you as soon as you said it.

“Daddy,” you caved, feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“No need to be embarrassed,” he ran a finger down the side of your cheek, making you look up at him. “If that’s what you think about then that’s what I wanna hear.”

You felt the tip of his cock prod at your entrance, he took his time to push in, stopping once his tip was in. “You ready, babe?” He purred, propping himself up with his hands beside your head.

“Yes, daddy, please!” You whined, trying to grind down on him.

“You’ll get what you want,” he promised, thrusting his hips all the way in. You moaned at the stretch, it felt like he was ripping you open. “Pussy’s so tight, doesn’t get enough attention, huh?”

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck. His hips started moving faster once you adjusted to his size, hitting your sweet spot with every thrust.

“Fuck fuck fuck! Right there, fuck yes!” You moaned, your high creeping up on you again.

“You gonna cum again, baby? Gonna cream on this cock?” One of his hands came off of the mattress, wrapping around your throat and restricting your airways just enough so you became light headed. You grabbed his wrist, letting out a loud whine.

His pace was relentless as he pounded into you, the hand on your neck keeping you from sliding up the mattress. His hand tightened and loosened every so often, letting you catch your breath then immediately taking it away.

His hair stuck to his forehead, his mouth hung open slightly, letting groans escape his lips every so often. His muscles flexed each time he changed his grip around you’re neck, his v line becoming more and more prominent with each thrust.

You felt like you were on fire, your bodies were soaked, your thighs felt sticky with your slick and your core ached, needing release. “Please let me cum, daddy. Please, I need to!” You begged, tears brimming your eyes.

“Gonna cry for me? You need to beg for it, cry for it.” His thrusts slowed down to an agonizing pace, you knew it must be driving him crazy, but the lengths he was willing to take torment you were far wider than you would like.

“Daddy please, please I need you to make me cum! Need to cum on your cock, please, daddy.” You begged, wrapping your legs around his waist. He snapped his hips deep inside you, causing the tears to fall. “P-please I need you, need to cum on you, want you to cum in me, so bad. Need you to fill me up, please daddy, please.”

You sobbed, trying to pull him closer. “On your knees,” he pulled out, landing a slap on your thigh.

Complacent, you rolled onto your stomach, propping yourself up on your knees. “Making your cunt drip, so wet for me.” He pushed back into your pussy, plowing you into the mattress with the force of his hips. “Ah fuck, pulling me in so well.”

His hands flew up to your waist, squeezing it roughly to keep you close to him. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, letting out loud whines the closer you got. “Please, please let me cum! Please daddy I need to,” you sobbed, your release was so close, you weren’t gonna last.

You felt his hand comb through your hair, which was sweaty and going in every direction. The breath was knocked out of you when he wrapped his hand in your hair, pulling you up so your back was pressed to his chest.

“You wanna cum, huh?” His hips snapped at an incredulous pace, the hand holding your hair came to wrap around your neck, making it easier for him to control you. His other hand slid down the front of your body and rested on your clit, not moving.

You bucked your hips in anticipation, feeling the need for more friction. You nodded desperately, reaching around him to hold yourself up with his waist. “Please daddy, please!”

“Sure baby, I’ll let you cum.” His fingers started moving slower than his hips were, the muscles in your stomach tensed. “But where am I gonna cum?”

His fingers sped up, one of your hands flew up to his wrist, digging your nails into his skin. “Here,” you muttered, tapping his hand that was rubbing your clit.

“Yea? You want my cum inside you?” He sped up his fingers, making your legs twitch. He took his hand off your neck, pushing you back down on the mattress. “Gonna fill you up, little girl.”

You whined at his words, your legs barely held you up on the mattress. Taehyung noticed, and he wouldn’t miss a chance to manhandle you. He pulled out for a fraction of a second, flipping you onto your back and thrusting back inside with ease.

“Look so good filled with cock, little brats not so bad anymore, are you?” He reached up and grabbed one of your tits, his thumb toyed with your nipple. His other hand came up and massaged both of your tits, pressing them together and manipulating them however he wanted.

“No m’ good,” you whined, your eyes meeting his. Your eyes were blurry and wet, you were sure that your eyeliner was running, your face was wet from your tears. Your eyes were begging his, begging for release, for his release.

“That’s right,” he groaned, taking his hands away from your tits and admiring the handprints he left. He set his hands on the mattress on either side of you, he panted heavily, hips stuttering every so often. “Good for me.”

“Tae- Tae I’m gonna- fuck!” You reached up and grabbed his shoulders, digging your nails into his shoulders, making him hiss. His fingers came down to your clit, rubbing fast circles. “Gonna cum!”

“S’right baby, cream on my cock.” He panted, your legs convulsed on his shoulders, hips shaking with each thrust. You let out a loud moan, finally reaching your climax.

You came and you came hard, your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You could feel your orgasm running down your thigh, the sound of him thrusting into your getting sloppier and more wet. “So fucking wet, I make you feel good huh?”

Taehyung took his hand away from your clit, when your eyes focused again, you were met with the sight of your dreams. His hips snapped into yours, he let out moans that your were sure to remember and that you’d never want to forget.

He bit his lip, you could feel his cock twitching inside you. “M’ sensitive,” you whined, thighs trying to clench around him.

“I know baby, I know.” He moaned, dropping to his elbows. His face dropped between your soft breasts, lips leaving soft kisses. “Wanna cum in you, wanna fill you up so bad,” he muttered, you felt his voice vibrate against your chest.

“Yes, yes daddy I need it!” You wrapped your legs around his waist, your fingers wrapped around his hair, giving it gentle tugs every so often.

“Fuck!” He moaned, hips coming to a stop, stuttering when he was deep in you. His heavy cock twitched against your walls, finally releasing into you.

“Oh that feels good,” you moaned, softening your grip on his hair. Your hands raked through his raven-coloured locks, scratching his scalp gently. You felt his seed shoot into you, making your insides warm.

“Yea,” he mumbled, taking a minute to calm down. He let out a sigh, scooting you up on the bed so his feet weren’t hanging off the edge.

There were so many emotions flowing through you right now, you were confused and curious. An hour ago you were arguing with man, now he’s inside you and laying on top of you. “We’ve gotta get you home,” he groaned, propping himself up.

“Home?” You shot up, smacking your head on his chest. He chuckled, leaning down to peck your forehead.

“Yea, Milly’s gonna be at your place as soon as the sun comes up.” He yawned, stretching his arms. “At least that’s what I expected from her.”

“Oh, yea you’re right.” You nodded, pushing your hair out of your face.

“Aw did you wanna stay the night?” He teased, raising an eyebrow and giving you a cocky smile. “Had that much fun, huh?”

You nodded, looking up at him with puppy dog eyes. “Do I have to?” You stuck your lip out in a pout, despite all of your past arguments, you wanted him to want you just as much as you wanted him.

“Tell you what, I’ll help you get cleaned up, give you some comfy clothes, then I’ll come back to your place with you. How does that sound?” He asked, tilting his head to the side, giving you a soft smile.

“Good, let’s do that.” You agreed, he nodded, standing up. He gently pulled out of you, watching as both of your releases flooded out of you.

“That’s hot,” he raised an eyebrow and bit his lip. He slid his hands under you, lifting you into his strong arms.

He brought you into the bathroom, setting you down and turning on the water. Once it was warm enough, he opened the curtain and let you in, stepping in behind you.

He was gentle, shampooing both of your hair and helping you rinse it off. His hands were gentle along your body, carefully washing the slick off of your body. He admired the bruises he left on your neck, both from his hands and his mouth. “Might have to leave more,” he mumbled.

He rinsed off your bodies and shut off the water, he quickly dried himself and handed you a clean towel, leaving the room while you dried off. He came back in boxers and holding a pile of clothes, “Here.” He handed you a pair of sweats and a large t shirt.

“Thanks,” you bowed your head slightly, he bowed right back. He threw on a pair of shorts and a hoodie, the fabric going over his head and slicking his hair down.

You looked in the mirror, wiping the makeup off of your face with a Kleenex, or what could come off without makeup remover anyway. “Is your phone in my car?” Taehyung asked, picking up your clothes off the floor and handing them to you.

“No, I dropped it in my shoes at the front door.” You stretched, your joints were stiff and your legs were sore because of him. You bent down to touch your toes, letting out a groan. “Tae!” You squealed, jumping when he layed a smack on your ass.

“Your fault for bending over,” he smirked. You slid your feet into your wedges, they didn’t work with the outfit but no one would see you at this time of night.

He followed you back to your apartment, hand steady around your waist. You made your way up the stairs, being as quiet at you could while you unlocked the door.

“Nice place,” Taehyung looked around, letting out a small hum in recognition.

“It’s small, but it works,” you shrugged. You both kicked off your shoes and he followed you to your bedroom. “You’re really gonna stay, all night?” You asked, closing your door.

Taehyung moved closer to you, pressing his body against your until you were sandwiched between him and the door. “As long as you want,” he promised. His hand came up and rubbed the side of your neck, you let yourself lean into his touch.

He bent down and let your lips meet, his lips moved passionately against yours, you wrapped your arms around his neck, you were sure you’d remember this.

His hand toyed with the hem of the shirt he lent you, his fingers slipping into the band of his sweatpants. “You should take these off.” He pulled away for a second, quickly coming back to your lips.

“You want them back?” You asked, letting him pull them off of your hips.

“No,” he pulled back, tugging his sweater over his head. His toned, bare chest on display once more, you didn’t hesitate to reach out and touch him, feeling your way along his carved chest. “I just think sleeping would be more comfortable without all this in the way.”

He gestured to the small bits of fabric that were left on the two of you, “Nude?” You asked, already knowing the answer.

“Nude,” he agreed. You stripped out of his clothes, leading him over to your bed. You were tangled in the sheets, both of you trying to find a comfortable position.

You found yourself facing his chest, arms wrapped around him. His arms were wrapped all the way around your waist, holding you tightly so both of your bodies were pressed together. You sighed into his chest, breathing in his scent and basking in the warmth he provided.

“Just so you know,” he whispered, combing his fingers through your damp hair. “Mornings with me can be, pretty hard.”

“I’m sure I’ll be able to handle it,” you gave his chest a gentle peck, wrapping your legs around his.

“Good girl.”

[stellayuta]

Love on The Grid - Formula 1 AU! Yuta Okkotsu - Pt 3.

Your likes, comments and reblogs really encourage me to write more! So do interact with this post and let me know your thoughts 🧡

PART 1 ||| PART 2

synopsis: One-night stands were nothing but a necessary painkiller for your inability to cross paths with true love. Your most recent find at a Vegas Club was no different. He was boring, obedient, SLOW! You leave him high and hanging hoping you'd never see him again until you find yourself gawking at a supersized billboard of him on a Vegas highway with the title 'LEGEND RETURNS TO VEGAS'.

genre: some smut and lots of angst

content: 18+ only. Formula one driver! Yuta x f! reader, all sorts of sexy stuff (fingering, oral, orgasm denial), swearing, angsty elements, cheating and discussion of mental health <3

word count: 5.2k

a/n: can't stop writing this lmao. here's part 3. Also, I noticed I have some trouble writing second person pov and keep switching to first so pls excuse any grammatic discrepancies.

WARNING: always use protection!

The chilly November air is ruthless as it bites your exposed skin. You had an ambitious plan for the night with your flashy dress, but all of it fell apart, leaving you alone and miserable for the second time in your life. Maybe it's the cold, but you feel your nose leaking - or maybe it's your uncontrollable crying that's causing that.

"Oh my god, stop crying!" you snap at yourself. This is pathetic. Your friends will not be happy with this advancement. You couldn't even get Noritoshi his darned autograph.

You seemed to have picked the back exit of the casino fortunately because you can still hear camera shutters going off in a distance. There is nothing in the back except a small, marble fountain with a weak stream of water. You do notice a very flashy, bright red car parked near it though, very far from the parking lot which is more towards the front of the casino. You look at in awe, how it casts a pinkish-red glow on the white marble around it - almost looks like it's made of rubies.

"Like my ride?" a haughty voice grabs your attention, and you haphazardly rub at your eyes before looking up. It's a tall, slender man in a fiery red suit and black accents walking towards you. You take note of his snowy white tresses and crystaline blue eyes. You feel like you've seen him somewhere before? Is he perhaps an actor or a supermodel?

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to stare at your car." You apologize to the man in case he had plans of accusing you of an attempted grand theft auto.

"Ah, don't worry about it." He says, waving his hand dismissively, "These cars are meant to be stared at, otherwise what's this point."

The comment makes you smile at bit as you hug yourself a little to get some relief from the cold.

"So?" He begins, twirling his keys on his long index finger. "What are you doing out here? Saw you last with Okkotsu? You his chick?" He interrogates you.

"I just came out for some fresh air, I don't quite like crowded spaces." You tell him, evading his question.

"No one hates glamor." The man says, fashioning a pair of circular sunglasses from his jacket pocket and putting them on. "Especially not formula one glamor. The richest of the riches. The most esteemed parties, crowd. What is it that really irked you?"

You frown at him. "Why do you believe everyone is interested in that kind of life? Do you think one kind find genuineness in life when your environment is constantly this superficial?" Maybe you spoke too much but the man seems intrigued.

"So Okkotsu bagged a smart chick. Good for him." He teases but you are not in the mood for any of it. "I am not his chick. We are friends. Not anymore probably. But don't make assumptions." you snap at the guy.

"Ah, calm down, tiger..." He says, putting his hands up and sitting up on the hood of his car. "Yuta doesn't just bring any chick along with him to places. I thought the two of you looked nice together!"

"He doesn't?" you ask. You feel a terrible ember of hope inside of you but want to immediately douse it. The strange man lets out a manic laugh.

"What? Did you think he was some Casanova, getting into everyone's pants. Do you even know anything about him?" he asks you mockingly and you feel a blush of embarrassment creep onto your cheeks. "He's not like the rest of us - forever on the search for love, and getting played by women who want us for the fame." He says, gazing at the sky. It is quite pretty out here today, a starry night.

You don't know for sure if this guy would know anything, but it seems like he would so, you can't help but ask him.

"What's going on between Yuta and that woman with the mole?" you ask, not making eye contact with the man. He looks at you with narrowed eyes.

"Who? Rika?"

"Yes, her."

"Oh yeah, they dated. For a year maybe? Yuta thinks they were in love, but I disagree. Yuta would think he's in love with anyone as long as they love him. He's pretty stupid I must say." The last part brings a smile to your face. "What happened between them?" you prod.

"Hmm, aren't you curious, as a friend?" He sticks his tongue out at you but continues on before you can protest.

"Well turns out, Rika loved how popular he was. Ad campaigns, parties, press tours, social media. Rika loves to be talked about. And with Yuta, she'd be as notorious as him. That was when Yuta was at the peak of his career. He hasn't been so well this year and Rika, finding that she had no screen-time anymore, decided it wasn't worth being linked to Yuta anymore." He says, sighing. You furrow your brows at this reveal.

"And so, as all fake things must come to an end, she asked for the breakup and Yuta had to comply. Do you know why he let her go?" Gojo asks you and you shrug your shoulders.

"Because he felt he wasn't deserving of being her boyfriend if he can't even be famous and publicly liked enough to be known as her boyfriend. He thought she deserves better."

You and the man exchange a glance, knowingly fully well that no man would think this way. Yuta was truly, genuinely too stupidly kind for his own good.

"W-why is he still in contact with her then?" you ask. Now this came from a place of selfishness. You didn't mind that Yuta had a past, but you didn't want her around him anymore. Regardless of whether you and Yuta had anything going or not.

"Well, they got to know each other because she is his personal manager. He didn't want to risk her livelihood by firing her." Gojo says.

"Well not anymore." a third voice joins the two of you as you turn around to see a livid Yuta close the door behind him and walk towards you. His hair is now falling onto his head, lock by lock, ruining his neat hairdo but very much reminding you of his fucked-out look from the other night. He has discarded his grey tuxedo jacket for good. He stands in between you and the white-haired man, seemingly trying to shield you from him. "I got rid of her for good. Now, what are you doing here, Gojo?"

Gojo. Now you get it. The first Ferrari driver who crashed out today. The question makes Gojo give Yuta a half smirk.

"Bad timing, Okkotsu. I was just about to ask this pretty lady here for a ride in my Ferrari. Third-wheel much?"

"Well, that won't be necessary." Yuta declares, pulling you in by the waist. "My Lambo's faster and Y/N prefers the better driver."

Yuta's blatant show of talent supremacy makes your mouth pop open in sheer admiration for a full two seconds.

"See you around..." Yuta says, pulling you along and not waiting for Gojo's reply.

Before the two of you can get to the car though, he finds a crevice between two pillars to push you into.

"I am apologizing again. One last time. You won't see the likes of her again." He says, very seriously, his spiky dark hair brushing the top of your forehead due to his proximity to you. You stare at his lips mindlessly, not knowing what to say. Why would he go this far for you?

"I don't think anybody in your world wants to see you with me and, she seems like she is still in love with you, Yuta..." You admit more to yourself than to him, cupping his face in your quivering hands. His expression is very honest as if he wants to shout it out to you with every cell of his body.

"She can go to hell. So can all of them." It is but a gentle whisper and he waits merely a second for your nodded consent before he presses his lips onto yours and your legs turn to jelly. You take fistfuls of his black shirt into your hands for support as you wrap your arms around him, melting, drowning into the kiss without any hope of surfacing. His hands run up and down your torso, trying to touch as much as body as possible before deciding to settle one hand on your ass and the other holding your chin to face you as he breaks the kiss to take a breath.

The two of you huff, separating yet still connected by a slimy string of your salivas. The weather doesn't seem chilly anymore as you feel his marble-like, wet back from under his soaked shirt. You also find your nipples poking out of your dress painfully, your collar bones shining with sweat as Yuta notices them and swoops right in to start kissing them.

"We'll be papped in this position, dummy." You slap Yuta's back, looking around with haste to see if you had peeping company.

"Don't care," he mumbles, groaning while he peppers the top half of your chest and your cleavage with kisses.

"I care!" You tell him, trying to yank him off of you. "I don't want to be on the gossip pages of a tabloid, making out with you."

He looks up, his dark blue eyes feral. "My car has tinted windows. No flash would penetrate."

You follow his stream of thought to realize what he's saying and bite your lip. You nod at him to give him the green signal to take you back to his car, parked out at the front where the paparazzi is parked too.

But it is not near enough.

You are clinging on to his muscular arm as you walk and feeling the weight of his arm right between your breasts is driving you insane.

Thunder makes a surprise appearance as a previously clear sky starts collecting an army of angry, dark clouds, illuminated by a shameless full moon. It's about to rain down on you two people, whose passion knows no bounds.

"Wait, Yuta-" you make him stop halfway and bring down his face to kiss him yet again. You run your finger along his jawline, admiring how perfect its edges are and occupy your hand with grabbing his hair. You take a small break to mumble truthfully against his puffed-up lips- "I couldn't wait till the car..."

That is enough motivation for Yuta to pick you up in his arms like a doll and carry you the rest of the way to the car, with your legs wrapped around his waist and your tongue fighting his for dominance. Fortunately, it seems the paparazzi had deserted the front area of the casino and you hear them in a distance yelling out "gojo" and "ferrari". So it was him. Now you owe him one. Thanks to that, you're able to manage getting into Yuta's sexy black lambo pretty discreetly.

This is the first time you get to properly see the car and with its teal interior and white lightwork, it truly looks like an engineering masterclass. Somehow your brain wires back to Toji driving this car around smoothly through the streets of Vegas and you turn to Yuta who's already made himself comfortable in the driver's seat.

He looks at you with yearning but it's unsafe to drive under the influence of lust.

You stare at him though till he raises his brow.

"Are you sure you can drive the car, I mean, it's an expensive car." you say before you realize what's coming out your mouth.

Yuta makes the most interesting expression possible.

"Remind me whose car this is?"

"Yours?"

"Remind me what I do for a living...?"

".... drive cars really fast...?"

Okay that was stupid on your part. It's just out of Toji's smooth, more practiced hands and into Yuta's younger, more energetic hands - you didn't know what to think. You were now going to witness Yuta Okkotsu in his true element - doing the thing he was born to pioneer.

Yuta revs the engine and pulls the car out of its spot and out of the premises smoother than buttery silk. He gets on to the road and soon enough we accelerate to a comfortable pace.

You admire how perfectly this car moves, like a black cat prowling through the roads.

Once Yuta hits the highways though, he assaults the gas pedal.

"Ahhhh!!!" you yelp, feeling the air hit your face with the windows down. It feels like literally being slapped by the wind. This earns a hearty laugh from Yuta.

"You should sit in one of our race cars, this is nothing!" he yells, rolling down his window too.

Since it is the wee hours of the night, the highway is practically empty, and you watch Yuta own the road like he was meant to rule it.

"Woo-hoo-hooooo!!!!" You scream out again, this time, cautiously putting your head out the window. You watch the buildings and the shimmering rows of cars running on the local streets pass by at a distance. Your hair finds its own rhythm, flying with the wind.

When you finally get off the highway, the both of you roll up the windows and relax into your seats. You feel wide awake now, more than you've ever been before.

"That was the best!" you tell Yuta, still high on adrenaline.

"You're welcome..." he says coolly.

"Where are we going?"

"On a scale of 1 to 10, how much do you like stars?" Yuta turns to you, smiling, probably already knowing your answer by how your eyes begin to twinkle just like those stars he mentioned.

****

The car finds itself right at home by the edge of a cliff as Yuta helps you out of the car and locks hands with you. It is quite windy up here too and the cliff overlooks the Vegas City, the view is mind-blowing.

But nothing can beat the expanse of the universe that is showing you a glimpse of itself in the night sky. You stand there looking up at the myriads of colors and glitter decorating the inky black canvas of the night. You spot at least 5 shooting stars in 30 seconds.

"Come here." Yuta calls out to you, and you turn around to see that he has laid out a fluffy blanket on the hood of his car and has another one in his hand for you two to use, perhaps.

You approach the car skeptically and ask Yuta if it can handle the weight.

"It can handle much more." He comments, urging you to join him on the hood of the car. The two of you maintain a good distance between you on the hood, but you so want to touch him right now. The sparkling sky finds its home in Yuta's dark, spectating eyes too and you can't help but look at him with... l-love?

For a while the two of you just sit there, enjoying the view and saying nothing. The silence isn't awkward this time but calming, very warm. You bring your knees closer to your chest. Without club alcohol, you feel shy now, of all times to be shy.

The last strand of your patience snaps though when you put your hand down on the hand and accidentally brush fingers with him.

The two of you exchange a look and you are not sure what's stopping you two? Dignity? Qualms? To hell with all of that.

"Stop looking at me..." you whisper at him, slowly sliding towards him, across the hood and climbing on top of him, right on his crotch, making him lay back down on the hood. He, however, does not want to stop looking at you like he wants to drink you up,

"Look anywhere else!" you gasp, placing your palms face down on his chest and yet, he won't break eye contact at all. He is studying you now, up and down, eyes stopping a second too long on the cleavage out for display, your lush thighs around his hips.

"Why, is it bothering you? I'm not going to look away." He declares, propping himself up on the hood and running his hands up and down your sides. The roughness of his hands that is evident even through the dress makes you bite you lip and breath out harshly. You are now practically sitting in his lap.

"Usually..." He continues, bringing his lips dangerously close to yours, brushing them against yours as you breathe in his heady scent.

"People have a thing for doing this stuff inside the car." His tongue slides across your bottom lip and he moves to bite your earlobe.

"Yet, here we are..." he comes back to your lips, nose brushing against yours as his hand snakes up your side to hold your neck gently. "Right out in the open... inviting anyone to see, am I right, Y/N?"

You look at him with pleading eyes and move in to kiss him but he uses his other hand to hold you by your hair. He doesn't hurt you but pulls with enough pressure to keep the two of you apart.

"I want to touch you..." you confess. What is his problem, this jerk? The only thing he is accomplishing by delaying this is making your heart race and making your bottom wet.

"Would you have gone with Gojo if he really invited you out for a ride?" He asks, his eyes darkening further while his fingers stay intertwined in your hair. Oh, now you see. He is the territorial type. Well, you can't judge him, so are you. But two can play at this game.

"Well, he was quite hot." you lie with a convincing smile, pretending to dream of some attractive version of Gojo that does not exist in your brain. Sure, he is handsome - but, Yuta made you suck him off in record time, that's something. Even Megumi took a month.

Yuta must believe what you say because his grip in your hair tightens ever so slightly.

"What did you talk about?" He asks, cocking his head to the side as he uses his free hand to slide it down your back and raise your skirt up. He must be pleased to find his target already soaking wet and you barely control a squeal when he plunges two fingers in at torturously slow pace. You have wanted him for so long though, that you begin to lose focus and he lightly tugs at your hair.

"Go on, what did you talk about?" he demands in a lower voice.

"Huh, oh yes." you try to continue your farce. "H-he was telling me how good I look. He told me he's a good ride." you grin at Yuta and he curves his fingers upward into your womanhood to finally earn a disgruntled moan from you.

"You riding him? Don't make me laugh." He says, a twisted smile forming on his face that only makes you want to prod him more.

"Why not?" you push. "He's tall, has a majestic body. He looks like he's got a lot of endurance. He looks like h-he'd b-be." With every compliment you direct towards Gojo, Yuta's pace increases as he assaults your sensitive spot.

"He what?"

"H-h-he... it would be fun to r-ride-" before you can finish your sentence though you can already feel a balloon of pleasure inflating rapidly inside your nether regions. You were about to cum any second now.

But just as you are about to go over the peak, Yuta pulls out his fingers without warning. Your brows furrow together, and you look at Yuta with a face so shocked, he almost wants to laugh.

"What happened, baby?" He asks, pushing his face into your cleavage. "Go on... tell me." he says, the vibration of his voice making your nipples erect.

"Why'd you stop?" you ask him, still unable to fully recover from the loss of your orgasm.

"That's your punishment for lying about Gojo."

"Yuta that's unfair!" you grab a bunch of his hair and hug him tight, making his nose press between the valley of your breasts.

"Mhmm..." he replies lazily. "I can give you a chance to make it up to me though." He kisses your nipple through the fabric of your dress and looks up at you. He doesn't need a nod to know that you are up for his challenge. He helps you shimmy yourself out of that flimsy dress and it lays discarded on the top of the car. Now you are butt naked in the middle of nowhere, atop Yuta's car. The thrill of it sends a shiver down your spine and certainly a shiver up your puss.

Yuta makes you get on your knees on top of the hood, facing the windshield. The cold touch of the glass on your squished breasts makes you sensitive and ticklish. He pokes your ass. "Up!"

At once, you raise your bottom for him to feast his eyes on. A leaky mess you are, glossy liquid covering your inner thigh and the opening to your womanhood. Yuta doesn't waste too much time gawking at it though and gets straight to business.

He licks one strip up your slit to get you started as you moan out. "Yes, that's your task. You only get to come today, if you are loud enough."

"What if someone comes running to find us?" you ask, turning around only to see Yuta raise a brow. "Isn't that what you want?"

You hate that he is right. This is exactly what you want. It's a massive, massive turn on for you, the risk of being seen. How does he know though?

You merely nod at him and lay your face back down on the glass as he continues to alternate between licking your nether lips and inserting his tongue into your hole. With each move, you are unable to hold you moans and whimpers that echo away in the night.

Soon, you feel another tingle of a bubbling orgasm and your moans turn to lower groans which makes Yuta stop again.

"Yuta, I swear to fucking god!" you scream out.

"Yes, keep that volume up!" Yuta grabs a hold of your ass and takes a deep dive into your crevice, picking up a lot of speed as he goes in and out with tongue and using two of his fingers to prod at your clit.

"Ah! Oh my goodness!" you shriek, moaning louder than ever, your breasts hitting the windshield with every time he thrusts his face into your heat.

"I-I'm cum-" this time, you are able to go over, losing your mind in the process, going cross eyed as Yuta doesn't slow down at all.

He doesn't stop until minutes later when your orgasm has subsided, and you are speechless from overstimulation. When he retracts you simply slump down the windshield and lay flat back on the hood, facing the sky - your face red and in a daze.

"How does it feel?" Yuta asks, placing a warm hand on your abdomen. He is completely soaked - in sweat and in your fluids. So is the blanket he laid out on the hood.

"Please Yuta..." you beg him, raising your hands up at him. "I can't, I need to kiss you, please..."

"God, baby..." Yuta pouts at you and leans over, connecting your lips together as your grab hold of his hair and deepen the kiss. This is all you wanted at the end of the day. To feel his lips and their warmth, to breathe in his odor. When you finally separate, you keep your heads connected and smile like a crazed teenager.

"Wait, it's your turn..." you remind him.

"It's fine. We can do that later." Yuta says, grabbing a hold of the second blanket to wrap around you while using the first one to clean you up down under. "You'll catch a cold out of here. Sorry, if I went too far."

You don't want to buy that though.

"You're going too far if you don't let me see mini Yuta again."

"Don't call it that oh my god." Yuta fake-heaves.

"But that's my favorite part about you!"

"What happened to liking someone for their character, Y/N?"

"Ughh... shush.. you!" you snap, getting off the car and reaching for your dress. It's a chore to put it on but you have to.

"I'm not letting you go without pleasuring you." you declare but Yuta merely guides you by the back and makes you sit inside the car.

"Soon, soon." he says. "We're going back to my hotel anyway. We need a change of clothes and a proper bed."

"So it's part two of last night?" you ask him teasingly. It was impressive that it had not even been a whole 24 hours yet it seemed like forever between last time and now. It also seemed like you got to know so much more of this man who was a complete stranger as of last night.

This made you smile but it immediately made you anxious as well.

When this night is over, where will the two of you be?

You were partially afraid to say anything and break your trance. what if this is all a dream?

"What are you thinking?" He suddenly asks, caressing your hair. This is the first time he touches you in a while. Well probably, it's only been a few minutes but it felt like a while.

"I-" you begin but are unable to find words.

"Do you think this is just an infatuation and will dwindle down to nothing in the next few days?" you finally say. It's better to face the truth now than to delay it. Yuta has to take a chance to ponder over it for a while which only proceeds to create a knot in your stomach.

"That depends on whether you believe in love at first sight?" he replies unexpectedly.

A woman of no nonsense, you can't help but reply "I don't."

"I don't either." he reciprocates. "But I do believe in potential at first sight."

He separates himself from you only for a moment to hold you and look into your eyes as he speaks, pouring out his feelings.

"After the first time we locked eyes, after our first conversation and after the first night we spent together - albeit it was rushed and impulsive and although I won't say I was in love back then, I can't stop thinking about you either." He tells you, transparently.

"This pull between us, it doesn't exist without reason. So I'm asking you..." He says, taking a deep breath.

"Are you willing to give this a chance?"

----

Megumi and you met at a mutual friend's house-warming party. Both of you were newcomers in a small town who migrated for work. There was that in common other than the fact that both of you were slightly awkward, not great talkers and certainly liked the indoors better than adventure. You were just happy that you could find a similar soul in a town full of older people or already married people with families. It was almost not surprising when the two of you started dating. It was a choice of convenience. There was love, without doubt. At least from your side. How could you hate a man, who made you coffee first thing in the morning after a long, tiring day at work. How could you not love a man who played with stray puppies he found on the side of the road. How could you not love a man who knew how to have intelligent conversations and also appreciate your intelligence at the same time.

For you, love was a no-brainer. If this wasn't your perfect match, who would be?

Although Megumi had never explicitly given you any 'I Love You's ,Who could Megumi possibly find in this small town that was more compatible with him than you?

So, when another new hire at the company, Nobara, first reached out to you to set her up with some social circles, you started out by inviting her home for dinner. The three of you had a pleasant evening and you thought nothing of it. Megumi and you had been together for three years at this point. You were even planning to adopt a dog together. You thought of yourself as a married couple, almost.

Then why?

Why, after a horribly taxing day at work, with chinese takeout in your hand and barely enough energy to make it your room, do you find yourself listening to noises of a creaking bed. Why do you find yourself looking at your boyfriend biting Nobara's lips as he tells her the filthiest, yet most romantic phrases. Why is pressing her forehead on to her as he cums. It doesn't make sense. Intercourse with Megumi was quiet, quick affair. That's why it was 'intercourse'. It was something the two of you did to quickly satisfy each other, mostly him.

When you dropped the take-out bag, curry streamed out onto the wooden floor and carpet, and you could only do so much to keep yourself upright and not fall into the small puddle of curry. The noise made the duo turn to look at you and your brain was completely tuning out what Nobara had to say. She seemed to be apologetic, pleading almost but your eyes only followed Megumi as his bare self got out of bed, put his pants on and walked right past you - like you were air. Like you were invisible to him. He went to the restroom and closed the door, with Nobara scurrying out of the house, half clothed.

That night, a part of you was lost forever. The other part of you that refused to give up your survival instincts pushed you - it pushed you until you found yourself at Momo and Noritoshi's doorstep - the Kamo household.

You remember telling them the whole thing as it killed you again, word by word. You find yourself sobbing till you got a panic attack - and then one more. Momo had to call over Miwa and her boyfriend, Kokichi too.

They were the ones who decided that to pull you out of this, you'd need to be pulled out of that town.

The Vegas trip happened only after you promised yourself in the mirror, with a lot of conviction that you would never, ever fall in love with a man again.

----

It's like his confession sobers you out completely. You fall back into the chasm of reality.

Yuta's dark blue eyes wait earnestly for an answer. And maybe you know what you're going to tell him. You'll have to tell him it's not going to work. You'll have to tell him you can't place your heart in jeopardy again.

You will have to stab yourself in your heart because you can't afford to hurt yourself, but you absolutely can't lie to this man and hurt him too.

After tonight, you will let him go..

"Let's get going, Yuta." You laugh nervously. "I'm too tired, don't mind if I sleep."

to be continued....

a/n: phew, this part took some time to figure out what direction I wanted this to go and what elements I wanted to include in this part. Expect some more smut and a LOT of angst in the next one. I believe Part 4 may be the penultimate chapter. Till then, stay tuned and stay healthy!