#v. gazing at tomorrow.

[angelictyphoon]

pas de deux

@full-of-mercy

Their legs hang off the edge of a shorn panel alloy, peeled back and away from the fuselage like the pop tab of a soda can. It has become their perch, providing an uninterrupted view of the horizon and the burning edge of the twin suns as they make their ascent. Colors they have seen, colors they have shared before. Swatches of brilliant vermillion bleed into the dark sky as they turn their eyes up to the gradual migration from night to day. 

This is the second sunrise he has shared with Nicholas after two years. 

His hands hurt. He can feel the blisters swelling up beneath his gloves, but it’s a good sort of pain. One of the shovels pilfered from the rear adjoining workshed of Marlon’s Monuments leans against his left shoulder with his arm slung over it. 

Vash tips back, farther and farther until he lies flat across the plane of metal. A dubious-looking raider pistol twirls off the end of his finger until it flies off and joins the pile gathered below their feet with a clatter and scattering of the other weapons caught in the tumble. He hugs the handle of the shovel against the front of his coat and clasps his fingers over his chest.

“See? I told you it was gonna be worthwhile to leave the Punisher and your belt with me for a bit,” he grins, turning his head to look up at Wolfwood. “Thought you would’ve been more excited about me asking you to take it off.”

The raiders are long gone, forced into a humiliated retreat after Vash convinced Wolfwood to put on enough of a show to lure them all near the imaging room in the remnants of the medical bay. 

“Just needed you to buy me a little time and look juicy.” 

Enough time for him to generate enough power to engage the magnets in the long-dormant MRI machine and summarily disarm every scavenger within a forty foot radius. There are still a plethora of dusty, greasy dirt angels and dents left on the walls where the unfortunate souls wreathed in heavy metals got pulled in along with their weapons. He left them at Wolfwood’s mercy while he hunted through the rubble for the quench button that would kill power to the magnets.

Whatever Nicholas had convinced them of by the time they were dumped on the floor, not a single scavenger stayed to challenge them.

“It all worked out. No one got hurt– mostly– they left, we were able to bury the colonists and all the others. Weirdly enough, the black box wasn’t where it was supposed to be but it didn’t look like it got destroyed, either.”

It is out there, somewhere, perhaps already pawned off to a novelty space-tech shop in the growing underbelly of December.  The SEEDS ship had been caught in low orbit for over a century and a half. He would have liked to learn the story of its crew. With Luida's help, it is likely they could have cross-referenced the passengers back to their descendants.

Light continues to spill out over the sand, glazing the landscape in a warm glow. He can't recall exactly when he stopped questioning the rise of the twin suns, wondering why it is that people can go on living.

This rhythm is altogether familiar yet also new in that they have yet to choreograph their next steps. Nothing has been preordained and the rest of the world is not in need. Not at this very moment.

Angelina II waits patiently for them in the shadow of the fallen ship.

“Anywhere you wanted to stop by before we head back? The girls are probably still a day or two out so we have some time.”

[mydear-corinthian]

phone call

synopsis - tommy receives a phone call in the middle of having sex with his wife.

pairing - tommy shelby x reader / thomas shelby x reader

warnings - SMUT +18, rough sex, use of foul language, breeding kink, praising kink, creampie, just full of porn, unprotected sex, p in v

notes - short (w.c <850), gif and picture isn't mine, divider is mine

main masterlist | peaky blinders masterlist | cillian murphy masterlist

His hands explored every inch of your sensitive body with a satisfying touch that sent shivers down your spine. There was an irresistible affection between the two of you that was endless. Your breath caught as his dominant, wild hip thrusts into yours, causing hectic, unrestrained moans with every thrust.

"Oh my God- yes, Thomas!"

As he pushed you farther into the mattress, his weight and heat surrounded you as you lay beneath him, your bodies linked. He drew closer as your legs coiled around his hips, stretching you in the most delicious way as he slid deeper with each thrust. Tommy started to breathe hard, his chest heaving as sweat collected on his forehead and trickled down to mix with the heat from your smooth skin. He met your gaze with lust and something deeper than that.

"Yes, baby.. fuck- you take me so well.. so fucking well," he praised on your ear as he rested his head on your neck, his deep thrusts not stopping.

The telephone on top of the nightstand beside your shared bed rang loudly. Your husband stopped, looking at the phone near him.

Who the fuck is calling at this hour?

Tommy picked the phone up, not leaving the bed.

"Thomas Shelby." he answered.

You expected him that he would draw away and stop, especially when the phone rang. He stopped and reached for it, and you felt upset. Tommy, though, chose to stay still and answered the phone with one hand while tightening his grip on your waist with the other and suddenly thrusting his hips forward once more.

His thrusts continued to shock you, causing your body to tense in surprise, but before you could respond, pleasure took over. His cock sank farther, each malicious movement finding that exact spot. You ended up speechless by both of his soothing phone voice and the way he caused your body to react to him.

"What ha-happened?" Tommy asked over the phone, his breathing heavily telling each question with a struggled and unsteady voice. He attempted to keep his composure, but the force of his motions made it almost impossible as his chest rose and fell quickly. As he tried to concentrate on the talk, you could feel his heart thumping against your body and his breath rapid and hot against your skin.

Tommy looked at you, a smirk painted on his face. With his free hand, his fingers toyed with your hardened nipples, brushing them and squeezing it.

"Tomm-" you covered your mouth immediately as you nearly moaned his name out loud, afraid of whoever is on the phone hearing that Tommy is fucking his wife at the moment.

"Yeah, I'll handle that tomorrow morning," his voice was deep making you feel wetter and wetter. A familiar feeling coiled down through your stomach.

"Tommy, I'm so close," you quietly moaned. Your fingers gripped the silk bedsheets tightly as you felt your high coming.

The room was filled with the constant sound of your bodies meeting, the heat between you growing with each slap of flesh on skin. Your thoughts were taken over by the intense pleasure that was shooting through your entire body as your eyelids fluttered closed, buried in a fog of ecstasy. You vaguely heard Tommy drop the phone somewhere in the distance, but it didn't really matter. The way he grabbed you closer and pounded your hips with such merciless pace that every thrust sent shivers of pleasure through your entire body was all that mattered. Heavy intakes of breath from him, merging with your groans as he pushed you both to the edge.

"Good girl, yes, yes.. Finish on my cock."

Tommy experienced the same closeness as your cock clenched all over it. With a deep moan, he raised your right leg to his shoulders. He treated you like the most precious gemstones that thieves like him could take. Tommy groaned and praised as his head rolled back.

"D'you want me to cum inside you? Breed you? Make you mine?"

"Yes, yes! Fill me up, sir! Please!"

His back was scratched by your nails, and in a few hours, scars will definitely begin to appear. You groaned, breasts bouncing and the bed creaking with every pound.

And then, after a few more thrusts, he smashed deep inside of you until he poured all of his seed into your abused and tight walls. It was warm and filled. Tommy groaned loudly and pleased, then rested his head on the side of your neck to inhale yourself. He waited until every last drop of his cum filled you before pulling out.

As soon as he pulled out, a mixture of his and your load leaked outside your throbbing pussy. Tommy got up, grabbing a box of tissue and cleaned the both of you up.

"Who was that?" you asked.

"Just the betting shop asking for me to check on something."

"You think they.. heard me?"

"I'm sure they did and I'm glad so that they know how much I fucking please my lovely wife." he chuckled before planting another kiss to your lips.

You gladly kissed him back but the kiss deepened and the both of you know what that means.

Another round.

[yundeob]

the parent trap | KHJ

part 1 of the Night in Hollywood!series

☆ trope: exes to lovers!au, divorced!au

☆ pairing: producer!hongjoong x designer!reader, dad!joong x mom!reader

☆ warnings: nsfw (mdni), swearing, mentions of food, mentions of food poisoning, female desc. reader, drinking, suggestiveness, smut, slight!breeding kink, oral sex (f. receiving), overstim, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap!) nipple play, titty sucking, marking, praise, slightdom!joong, blond!joong bc that itself is too much for me, mentions of (early) pregnancy, you’re both in your early thirties and make an unbelievably stubborn couple in this!

☆ synopsis: AS DIVORCED PARENTS to two twin daughters, you and hongjoong have your fair share of work cut out. Driving to piano lessons, cheering at hockey games, drop offs at each other’s houses, it can all be a little much. But could a relaxing summer retreat as a whole family possibly rekindle past emotions you’ve swept under the rug? . . .

☆ word count: 18.1k

☆ playlist: soulful strut by young-holt unlimited, l-o-v-e by nat king cole, just the way you are by billy joel, slipping through my fingers by abba, this will be (an everlasting love) by natalie cole

☆ a/n: it’s finally here. I can’t believe I’m writing this and saying it’s finally here oh my goodness. first off, thank you from the bottom of my heart to everyone who has supported me with the series so far (shoutout to @kitten4sannie , @byuntrash101 and especially @desirehorizon for being amazing!) everyone’s sweet comments have been greatly appreciated, and I just hope this silly little fic brings a smile to your everyday lives.

ty for making writing worth it as a writer. now cue the opening credits!

“ABSOLUTELY NOT” Hongjoong says.

“But dadd,” she whines, clutching the wrinkled pamphlet closer to her chest. Eunseo’s small hands are covered in purple doodles her sister drew using a glitter pen. 

“Why not?” the girl complains, shrugging her shoulders. 

He sighs, pushing his glasses up with one hand as he continues typing away at the important document the producing company sent him on his laptop. He tries his best to reason with the child.

“Because, baby…” pausing to think for a moment before responding. “It would be hard for your mom and I to find a time that fits into our schedules. I’ve got work, and she must be busy as well.” 

Eunseo glares at her father’s excuse. 

Okay, yeah, the man knows it’s somewhat of a lie, himself. 

She continues to protest by shoving the advertising pamphlet in her dads face and blocking his view of the screen. Thankfully, Hongjoong is used to these sort of work distractions, expertly avoiding her by craning his neck sideways and continuing to type away.

“But dad, it’s an amazing cottage resort! They’ve got a lake where you can go swimming in, a forest hiking trail, a bonfire to roast marshmallows and even a diner less than fifteen minutes away! So if you end up burning the camp food like last time, we can just order and eat in! Isn’t that great?” She beams. 

He stops typing for a second, fingers hovering over the keyboard as he gives his first born a look that makes her immediately break into a sweet smile, batting her lashes and flashing him a look of innocence. 

“Please?” She begs, standing on the edge of her feet as she gazes up at him. “The last time we went was when Eunbyul and me were toddlers.” 

And how on earth could any dad’s heart not melt at the sight of his daughter trying to convince him about one harmless vacation? 

Hongjoong wheels his office chair back, turning so he could look her in the eyes properly and tuck a stray hair behind her ear. 

“Listen honey, I’m sorry, I really wish I could, but…” he trails off, looking back at the open tabs and file documents displayed on his computer.

Turning his head around and upon seeing a frown form on his daughter's face, he quickly reassures her. 

“Once you finish your final piano recital tomorrow and your mom picks your sister up to take her to her hockey game, how about we go fishing the weekend afterwards?” he suggests, brows raising. “That’ll mean I have just the two of you all to myself.”

Eunseo mumbles under her breath, quiet but insistent enough that he catches it. 

“But we’re supposed to be a family of four.” 

She sulks, thinking of how that would leave you, her mother, left out of their plans. The arms holding the pamphlet up, ultimately fall down in defeat. 

He places a peck on her forehead, patting her on the back. “You know, if you can get your mom to say yes, then I’ll think about it” he chuckles, knowing the highly unlikely probability of the event.

Adjusting his glasses, the producer goes back to his work, peeking his daughter slugging away from the corner of his eye. 

Eunseo slumps her shoulders in defeat as she walks out of her dads office, turning the corner to see her twin sister, Eunbyeol, pressing her ears near the door with her neck outstretched. Clearly she’s been caught in the middle of trying to overhear their conversation. 

The twin younger by fifteen seconds quickly rushes over, waiting expectantly.

“So? What did dad say?”

Eunseo exhales, throwing the information pamphlet away on the wooden floors and slumping against the living room couch. 

“He’s totally not buggin. Said he wants to take us fishing next weekend instead. Just us three.” she grumbles. 

Eunbyeol scrunches her nose at the idea. 

“But dad sucks at fishing.”

Her sister groans, kicking her small feet against the couch in frustration. “I know!” Eunbyeol starts to worry, coming to sit beside her.

“Then how on earth are we going to get mom and dad to get back with each other again? They haven’t been in the same room since we were like, five!”

Her twin sister scoffs, “First, we gotta get them to have a proper conversation with each other. They barely even talk when they drop us off at each other's houses.”

Nobody truly knows why you and Hongjoong had divorced so suddenly when the girls were young. Not even themselves.

All they were used to were cold stares and one word replies shared amongst their parents, refusing to find harmony in their co-parenting.

Frankly, your girls have had enough of the performance you were both trying to maintain, looking past your expressions to realize you and your husband still held feelings for the other. It was only a matter of time and place in order to set you two up together, thus, the idea of an intimate, family getaway came into their minds. 

After a few moments of letting her words hang in the air, Eunbyeol’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. 

“That’s it!”

The older twin looks up quizzically, watching her sister jump off the couch and gaze at her excitedly. 

“We’ll just have to force them to meet each other! We can always guilt trip them for dropping us off at their houses and making us play alone!”

Eunseo rolls her eyes at the idea. “Right, and how are we going to do that dummy? The only reason they’d do that, was if it was an emergency.”

Whoever said twin telepathy wasn’t a thing was a liar, because the second Eunseo catches onto what her sister is saying, the twins share a look of pure mischievousness, the gears in their brains working together as one. 

With hushed whispers and quiet giggles, the twins immediately begin conducting their plan in secrecy near the corner of the living room, backs turned and in the middle of discussion when Hongjoong walks out of his office with an empty coffee mug. 

“What are you guys doing over there?”

“Leave us alone! Family man traitor!” Eunbyeol shouts, holding a slightly hostile grudge to her father before turning back to whisper to her twin. 

Hongjoong shakes his head, sighing as he heads into the kitchen. 

“Then it’s perfect! I’ll stay here with dad once my piano recital is over, and then when Mom picks you up for your hockey game tomorrow, we’ll try convincing them together!”

Eunbyeol nods her head in agreement, eyes lighting up with excitement as she whispers in a hushed tone. 

“And once both events end, we’ll pretend to be so sick that they have to take us to the nearby hospital.”

The other twin smirks. ”Where we’ll end up guilt tripping them into taking us to the cottage.”

They double high five in victory at their flawless plan, already waiting for tomorrow to come as soon as possible.

“A summer cottage?” you repeated, brows raising at the idea as you made a left turn onto your street. 

Eunbyeol nods eagerly from the back seat after getting picked up, having ranted on and on about the ad in the pamphlet since the moment you saw her.

“It's an amazing establishment mom,” She boasts, making you laugh at her words while parking the car and unbuckling your seatbelt.

“They have everything you could possibly think of!”

“Oh, really?” You say skeptically, opening the door for her. 

Eunbyeol is lost in the middle of passionately describing all the relaxing activities you could do by yourself, or rather per se, with a special partner together. 

“There’s couples hiking retreats, couples canoeing, couples yoga… did I mention couples hiking retreats?” She confuses, retracing her words. 

You roll your eyes and smile, keys jangling as you walk through the entrance of your apartment flat while balancing the bags and items in your hands.

Being a wedding dress designer and yet picking up your daughter from your ex-husband's house could’ve been ironic to some people. But after having split with Hongjoong since the girls were so young, you came to grow fond of having some independence as a divorcee, channeling your main focus into setting up your own bridal shop downtown.

It was through that hard work and focus that you did it all by yourself with no additional help.

You’d be lying if you said you haven't opened a bottle of red wine some nights due to loneliness as a divorced single mother, but at least that was what you had your daughters for.

You made sure to work just as hard as you did enjoy playing and spending time with them. After all, they were the light of your life and purpose for living.

Balancing the pizza you picked up on the way home, you set it down on the kitchen island, telling Eunbyeol to go wash her hands in the sink. The girl doesn’t stop ranting.

“There’s usually only two rooms in the cottage, so you’ll have to sleep together with dad, but I guess you won't mind, would you? After all, you were once married” She rolls her eyes, reaching for the soap.

You shake your head with a sigh. ”What is up with you and getting me and your father together in the same room?” you muttered as you took out the plates and utensils. 

Eunbyeol eventually walks back to you, wiping her hands on her baggy jeans before sitting on the kitchen stool. 

“It’s not that I’m obsessed, Mom. Actually, Eunseo and I are just dying to get away this summer now that school is over.”

Turning around from plating the pizza and salad, you chastise your daughter, telling her to sit with her bum flat on the stool so she doesn’t fall. She immediately listens, carrying on with her persuasion. 

“We just want you and dad to get the chance to relax as well, that’s all!” her mouth full from a bite of hot, greasy pizza. 

You smile, wiping your washed hands on the kitchen towel and coming over to wrap your arms around her affectionately. 

“Spending time with you and Eunseo every week is how I relax,” you assured her, smothering your baby with kisses on her cheek.

Byeol lets out a squeal of annoyance, taking another bite of her pizza. “You’re squishing me!” She tries hiding her smile, failing when you lean in closer. 

You pull back in laughter, ruffling her hair as you walk away while reminding her.

“Oh! Don’t forget you’ve got your hockey game tonight!”

Byeol chews faster, munching on the soft crust and counting down the hours on the kitchen clock. 

She smiles to herself. 

“Don’t worry, I know!”

“What do you mean you need to go to the hospital?” Hongjoong asks in a worried voice, standing against the women’s washroom stall. He holds Eunseo’s congratulatory flower bouquet for first place in hand, feeling the stares of multiple women passing by, clearly judging him for being in the ladies room with them. 

“Honey, is everything all right?” He asks worriedly. A string of groans come from behind the door.

“You need to leave!” one old lady thrusts her walking cane at the father, lips pursed in dissatisfaction. 

Eunseo did such a phenomenal job tonight for her piano recital, that Hongjoong was shocked to see his daughter clutch her stomach first thing after running down the steps of the stage, dashing to the washrooms.

He whips his head back. “My daughter’s having a bit of a situation in here, okay miss? Have a bit of understanding!” He barks frustratedly out loud to the onlookers before speaking softly back to the stall door. 

“Eunseo, baby, talk to me, is everything alright in there? Are you sure you need to go to the hospital? Is it that bad?” 

The girl continues her acting performance, letting out fake groans while typing furiously on her cellphone. 

“Oh the pain! I think I might have food poisoning, dad!”

Seolie: How far along are u

Byeolie: Mom’s outside, banging to come in. 

Seolie: same, I told dad I needed to go to the hospital.

Eunseo lets out another groan of pain, causing Hongjoong to worry even more. 

“That’s it, Eunseo. Let me in and help you” he decides, searching his bag for a painkiller or at least some sort of medication for relief. 

The girl frantically checks her phone, eyes lighting up at the new message. 

Byeolie: Mom’s getting the car to take me to the hospital. I’ve got her convinced to call dad soon.

Eunseo types as fast as her small fingers can move, even faster than when she performed her piano solo from before. 

Seolie: Then what do I do????

Hongjoong gets slightly suspicious at the lack of sound coming from the stall, calling to his daughter again.

“Eunseo? Everything alright?”

At the next notification, the girl makes up her mind, getting the signal from her sister. 

Byeolie: play dead. Mom calling soon. See ya there.

The actress gets into character, gaining her composure before unlocking the washroom stall and holding her stomach as she stumbles into her dad’s surprised arms. 

“Eunseo!”

She wails, falling limp. “Oh, dad! Please! Take me to the hospital, it hurts too much!”

It’s truly a mystery which parent she got her acting skills from.

But she doesn’t have to tell him twice at that point. The man is already piggy backing his fainted daughter and sprinting out of the ladies washroom, reassuring her with soothing comments as he makes a beeline for the parking lot.

“Stay with me baby!” He huffs, unbeknownst to Eunseo who peeks one eye open. 

Only after he straps his daughter in the backseat and is turning on the engine does he receive a sudden phone call from you, pressing the speaker for the whole car to hear your panicked voice. You break the news to him first. 

“Eunbyeol’s severely sick. She fainted right after her hockey game.”

Hongjoong’s eyes widened. “What?”

You sighed, running a hand through your hair. “She was holding her stomach saying she ate something wrong. Is Eunseo okay?” 

Hongjoong puts the stick into drive, backing out of the parking lot and replying in a hurry.

“She’s hit with the same thing right now. I’ll meet you at the Hospital in ten” he grunts, sweat forming on his brow as he speeds through traffic, not caring if he gets a ticket. 

Had he looked in his rear view mirror, he would have seen Eunseo sagging near the car door, clutching her stomach with a small grin on her face.

You never liked the hospital. 

The sounds of babies crying and hospital beds wheeling become the background noise, shifting nervously in your seat that was in the emergency pediatrics unit waiting area. 

Hongjoong has his eyebrows furrowed, hunched over one seat beside you as he hangs his head in his hands, knees bouncing up and down. A middle aged nurse nasally calls on the next family waiting from the front desk, boredom laced in her voice. 

You sigh, uncrossing your legs and choosing to bite at the fingernail on your right hand once realizing you’ve already done the same to all the ones on your left. 

“It’s all my fault.” Hongjoong confesses, suddenly sitting still. 

You glance to your left, watching as he sits up slowly. 

“Last thing they ate together would’ve been at my house. I probably made them sick with something I fed them,” he dejects, hanging his head down in shame. 

“It’s all my fault, god I’m so stupid!” He beats himself up. 

You have half the mind to snap at your ex-husband, anger already filling up inside you earlier when you heard Eunbyeol suggest it was something she ate at her dad’s house. You really did want to yell at him for being so bad of a chef that he sent his own daughters to the emergency pediatrics unit, undeniably relieved that Seonghwa was working tonight’s shift. 

But those cruel words sitting on the tip of your tongue are thrown away when you glance down to see your ex-husband missing a shoe on one of his feet. 

Hongjoong rushed over here so fast with Eunseo that he left his shoe behind like some sort of fairytale, Cinderella. He hasn’t even realized he wasn’t wearing one right now.

You exhaled, knowing that if there's one thing you’ve learned while parenting, it was that to have patience and understanding was a virtue. Even for your ex-husband.

“It’s not your fault,” you sighed, staring at your hands folded in your lap. 

It feels awkward when Hongjoong stops tugging at his blond locks to look at you in surprise, continuing to speak as you place a gentle hand on his thigh. 

“That could’ve happened to anyone. We don’t know yet if it was because of the food. Let’s just pray and wait and see” your voice being a sign of reliability to him. 

The man is a little shocked at your supportive nature to tell you truthfully. He delivers all the things he needs to say through his grateful gaze alone, reciprocating a small smile. 

“Didn’t think I’d see you guys tonight.” Seonghwa chuckles, walking in before Hongjoong has the chance to reply. He comes from the patient's room wearing his dashing, white doctor's coat. “Together, at that” he mumbles under his breath before looking up and flashing you a polite smile while giving his worried friend a soft pat on the back.

Hongjoong holds his breath when he asks: “How are they?”

“Better,” he tells him, flipping through some papers on his clipboard. “But it was a big shock to their bodies. They need some rest at the moment.” 

The pediatrician tries not to show his smile, standing in front of you and Hongjoong while hiding his expression behind his clipboard as per his niece’s request.

To be fair, if someone had told Seonghwa earlier that evening that he would receive a fifteen minute pep talk from his best friend's twin daughters that day in the emergency unit, he would’ve laughed in their faces. 

Alas, life was always filled with surprises. Here’s what went down thirty minutes earlier in the hospital room:

“We’re trying to get them back together,” Eunseo announced confidently, sitting next to her sister on the hospital bed. 

Eunbyeol nodded, eyeing the dumbfounded medical professional standing in front of them with his clipboard tucked under his arm, hands in his pockets. 

“So.. you guys don’t need an IV drip?”

“It’s this whole entire thing, Uncle Hwa, we’ll explain to you later.”

It took a minute before Seonghwa reclaimed his composure as an adult, chastising the twins for pulling a false alarm over something like this. He made sure to make them promise him they wouldn’t do something stupid like this again. But after that, of course Seonghwa is immediately pairing to help them with their plan on getting his best friend back together with his ex-wife. The man is just tired of watching Hongjoong beat himself up half the time about missing you. 

“So you essentially want me to lie about the fact that you guys don’t have food poisoning, and were just faking this whole thing so your mom and dad would have a reason to see each other.” 

The twins nod, one of them pointing out. “And make sure to tell them we’re fine of course. Maybe throw in we’re like, really sick, but that we’ll live so it’s best if we get rest.”

“At like a cottage or something” the other chimes in, wiggling her eyebrows at the hint. 

The doctor sighs, scratching his neck sheepishly. 

When Seonghwa leads you and Hongjoong into the hospital room, both of you feel awful seeing your babies laying in their beds, dressed in the children’s gowns. 

Eunbyeol peeks open her eyes first, voice hoarse (she practiced). 

“Mom? Dad? Is that you?” she groans, pretending to clutch her stomach in pain. 

Both you and Hongjoong rush to each child, grasping their hands and stroking their heads softly with sympathy. 

“Hey baby, I’m here” you coo.

“I’m so, so sorry girls, it was probably all my fault. I should’ve never cooked for you guys earlier today.” their dad cries out painfully, looking down in shame.

You come to stand beside him, reassuring them both. “But what’s important is that you guys get better now. We want to make sure you get the rest you need” you say, making eye contact with your ex-husband. 

Seonghwa clears his throat, crossing his arms as he flashes a wink to the girls behind your backs. 

“They seemed to have been mentally exhausted as well,” He asks on purpose, watching as you and Hongjoong share a look with each other. “Have they been receiving proper familial support at home?” 

“I can’t even remember the last time I saw my parents in the same room together.” Eunseo weakly admits, showing a faint smile. 

As parents, you and Joong feel the most amount of guilt anyone could ever feel. You realize how exhausting and stressful the pickups and drop offs to each other's houses could’ve been, especially when you two were so busy with your respective jobs to spend time with your daughters now that it was summer break for them. 

Hongjoong smiles, holding both their hands and making a promise to them. 

“Make sure to rest you two. Tell me, is there anything you guys need right now? Anything you guys want I'll make sure to get it for you.”

”Do you guys have crunchy ice?” Eunbyeol blurts out loud, breaking her weak facade. 

Eunseo almost wants to shoot a glare at her sister but she realizes both of you are still looking at them. 

“I can get you some ice!” Seonghwa quickly assures you and his nieces, mouthing to them good luck for support as he shuts the door behind him. 

You sigh, coming over to stroke Eunseo’s hair and caress Eunbyeol’s hand. 

“Well? Is there anything else you guys need from us?” Hongjoong states, eyes soft in sympathy. You nod, waiting to hear their response.

“Let us know girls, anything at all.”

Eunbyeol and Eunseo finally take their chance, sharing a hesitant look before speaking at the same time. 

“We want to go to the cottage”

“Together,” Eunseo says.

“As a family.” Eunbyeol adds in.

You and Hongjoong share a silent look. 

Later into the night, the twins are finally discharged from the hospital, deciding that they would stay at Hongjoong’s mothers apartment which was closest nearby, considering they were both tired and immediately needed a place to rest. 

The car ride home is awkwardly silent, even as the kids are (what you think) to be fast asleep, hockey gear and a bouquet of flowers riding with them in the backseat.

It was at their request for you to drive them to their grandmother's house, wanting both their parents with them till the ride home. Hongjoong settled on driving your car and dropping all of you off, planning to take a taxi back home and pick up his own car in the morning. Despite your protest on how inconvenient that was, he insisted as he didn’t want to disappoint the twins.

But suddenly the man begins to regret his offer, currently driving in complete silence on the highway, eyes facing forward and shoulders tense. Quiet FM nightly jazz plays from the radio. 

You’re sitting passenger seat up front with him in what feels like forever, looking solely at the reflections in the window, the street lamp lights scattering across your face as you travel through the nighttime traffic. It’s awkward being together like this.

You hear him clear his voice, speaking softly so he doesn’t wake up the girls.

“So, are we really considering that cottage retreat?” he glances back at you. 

You sit up, straightening your back and exhaling as you secretly wanted to have avoided that topic of discussion.

“We can’t Hongjoong,” you reasoned, shaking your head. “I couldn’t possibly take a whole vacation from the dress shop. Not unless I had someone take care of it for me, which my staff probably aren’t ready to do.” you explained, voice tense.

Hongjoong nodded, understanding your point of view. “I realize that. I’ve got a few projects I have to record and demo with Eden.” he tells you, an arm placed on the wheel with his sleeve rolled up. His veins become perfectly outlined as he passionately tells you about his producing job.

He’s so hot like that.

Jesus what were you thinking? Cursing your mind as you clear your voice and try to change the topic.

“How’s everything been going then?” you say stiffly. He nods, still awkward with sharing conversation with you. 

“Um, it's going good. You?” he asks.  

“Fine.” you swallow. 

Silence prevails. He’s first to speak again, building the courage to say the next thing in his mind. 

“I’m willing to put things on hold if I need to.” He confesses. 

Hongjoong continues to drive normally after having said that. Now it becomes your turn to stare at him now, watching how he glances at the side mirror, switching lanes swiftly like the pro-driver he was. 

“What do you mean?”

“Honestly, I think it would be good for the girls,” he admits, calling you by your name. Even hearing him call you your name feels weird. It feels foreign, like it almost wasn’t yours. 

“Hongjoong-” you warn, shaking your head at the warry possibility. 

“Just hear me out, alright?” He states firmly, making you quiet. 

He glances back into the rear view mirror, watching your girls peacefully asleep with their heads leaning against each other. 

“It’s been almost seven years. Seven years since they’ve last seen their parents speak to each other without breaking into a fight. Tonight was the first time they saw us together without having to plan a drop off and pick up in god knows how long.”

Hongjoong licks his lips, gripping the wheel as he emphasizes. “Seven years since they’ve gotten a goodnight hug and kiss from us at the same time in one place.”

You scoff, turning to face him properly this time. “I don’t know why you’re acting as though we can make this request of theirs come true Hongjoong. This is a big deal-”

“It is a big deal!” he exclaims, trying to get his point across. “I can see how badly our daughters want us to both be in their lives more, to acknowledge the fact that the other still exists after splitting apart.”

He sighs. “Us, not acknowledging each other’s existence at all is worse than if we had to see each other regularly.”

You bite your lip, getting angry. “So what Hongjoong? You’re saying you want to suddenly play family with them at the cottage?”

You shrug your shoulders. “Do you really think we can pretend to be normal parents to them without fighting like we are now? There’s a reason why our current schedules work. Don’t make me seem like the bad guy for not wanting to take them.” You glared, pointing a finger at him. His jaw locks. 

“You fully knew the lifestyle changes we would need to make as a couple when you signed those legal papers—”

“Well then did you also predict everything that happened after you brought me those papers?” He spits like venom, gaze hard as he clenches the wheel.

You blink your eyes at his words, pressing your knees together at his sudden attack. 

You don’t remember clearly if you even meant what you said at the time when you threw those papers at him seven years ago. But all you still know is that Hongjoong was just as stubborn as you were, making up his mind to sign them in the end regardless.

Looking in the rear view mirror, you muttered to him quietly. 

“Don’t raise your voice. The kids are sleeping.”

Their dad scoffs, muttering a sure, under his breath as he switches lanes. 

The kids were in fact, not sleeping, and very much awake. Eyes closed but ears wide, as they were listening in to the first real discussion their parents were having in so long. Or perhaps it was an argument?

At the right turn into his mother’s apartment’s underground parking lot, Hongjoong shuts off the engine, getting out of the car without another word and shutting the door in your face. 

You pinched the bridge of your nose, hear the back door open. 

You watch in the corner of your vision as his demeanor immediately changes, softly caressing Eunseo and Eunbyeol’s hair. 

“Hey girls, we’re here now. You gotta wake up.” He coos.

They yawn theatrically, pretending to stretch their arms. 

“So soon?” Eunbyeol mumbles.

A few feet ahead, you see your mother in law walking out from the elevators, a knit cardigan wrapped around her small frame. You smiled, getting out of the car and greeting her first. 

“We’ll leave Eunbyeol’s hockey gear with you for the night if that’s alright Mom-” 

Hongjoong’s words are cut off as the woman who birthed him walks straight past him, ignoring him and immediately taking you in her warm embrace, eyes forming crescent moons. 

“How are you my dear?” she asks, causing you to smile and hug your mother in law affectionately. “It’s been so long, I’ve missed you so much!”

Despite the break up between you and Hongjoong, you were thankful for one thing, and that was the fact that your relationship with Hongjoong’s family stayed strong, especially with Mrs. Kim.

“I’ve missed you too” you tell her genuinely. “I’ve been good, I’m just sorry for dropping them off so suddenly at your place,” You say, feeling apologetic for waking her up late into the night. 

“We had a bit of a situation,” you explain, watching as Hongjoong collects their things. 

She shakes her head, reassuring you. “Nonsense! Why would you be sorry for that.” she grins, turning her head at the car. “And where are my girls, may I ask?”

At the sound of her voice, Eunbyeol and Eunseo dash out from the back seat and into their grandmother's welcoming arms, pressing soft kisses to her cheeks.

Hongjoong is the only person that stands all alone, awkwardly holding the bouquet of flowers with heavy hockey gear and a duffle bag perched on his shoulder. 

“Oh, how I’ve missed my little squirrels!” she exclaims using their signature pet name and happily reuniting with her grandchildren. 

She turns her head, face falling at the sight of her son and lips pursing into a frown. 

“And where on earth have you been? Not giving me a call!” she snaps, slapping her son on his back. Eunbyeol laughs out loud while Eunseo tries to keep her giggles in. 

You hear your ex husband protest to her while you close the back seat door. 

“OW! I’ve been busy alright?” he mumbles, massaging his sore arm. 

Your mother in law takes both the twins hand’s on each side, nodding her head to you. 

“Leave all the kid’s stuff to Hongjoong, he’ll take care of it darling” she smiles sweetly, sending a glare to her son to take a hint and be more of a gentleman to you. She walks away with her smiling granddaughters, exchanging light-hearted giggles and excitement. “Bye, mom!” The twins wave back. 

Hongjoong cranes his head up, sighing at the ceiling before taking Eunseo’s piano bag that you were holding in your hand in one swift motion, walking reluctantly behind the three. 

“Stay here. I’ll drop them off.” he briskly walks away, leaving you stunned. 

Hongjoongs words from before can’t help but replay inside your head as you wait for him to come back down. 

Before you guessed it, it was already the ride back home, and the car was painfully silent once again. In reality, you were each thinking deeply to yourselves about the possibility of the cottage retreat. Could you really be a mom and dad together as a couple to your kids?

“Are you giving your plants enough water?” He brings you out of thought, the car slowing down as he turns onto your street. 

You look up, giving him a confused look. 

Hongjoong nods in direction, following his eyes to look at the measly, dying flower pot perched on the steps of your flat’s entrance as the car stopped to a halt. “You know, it’s really hard for plants to die when they’re outside.” He says in amazement at your shit gardening. 

You scowl at him, asking him when he became such a plant expert all of a sudden. 

He continues to poke fun at you, smirking when he undoes his seat belt. Hongjoong suddenly leans over to help you unbuckle your own, face dangerously close to yours as he lowers his voice. 

“Unless their owner just really sucks at taking care of them.” 

His eyes gaze into yours for a split second, feeling your face heat up from the proximity. You let out a tiny gasp for air when he leans back in his own seat. 

“Fuck off” you replied harshly. 

“You should give them some more care,” he suggests, ignoring your swearing. 

You don’t reply to his stupid comment, refusing to look at him as you get out of the car. 

“I can go in by myself” you press, adjusting the strap of your purse on your shoulder. You didn’t think it was necessary to draw out your time with this man any further.

Hongjoong straightens his dress shirt as he moves to your side of the car, shoving his own car keys in his trousers as he locks your doors and hands over the keys. You take them hesitantly, watching as he rests against the car door, strong arms crossing against his chest. 

“Think about it at least.” he mutters to you. 

You look at him, eyes shutting softly when you realize he was still talking about the cottage getaway. Sighing his name is exasperation, you run a hand through your hair. 

“Hongjoong-”

“Would it kill you to spend a week with me and our daughters?” He scoffs as he asks you straight up, looking at you in a way that makes you hesitate to say your next words. You observed one hand come to shuffle with the silver lighter in his trouser pockets. 

You stayed silent for a moment, genuinely thinking back to your daughters and what this meant to them if you went. What this would mean for you two as well. 

Finally, you look up to him, returning his gaze.

“I need time.” 

He nods, face serious. “I understand.”

“Let me think about it.” You mumbled. 

And with that you turn around, walking up the steps to your front door. At the sight of your flowerpot, you quickly remember his comment and snatch it in your hands, slamming the door shut to Hongjoong as he finally lets a soft grin break out on his face. Letting his back come up from leaning against the door, Hongjoong nods his head, satisfied enough at that answer, as he walks silently down the road while opening his Uber app. 

At least you’d give it some thought. 

Okay, maybe now you’ve given it too much thought. 

Sipping your fifth glass of wine of the night, you’re sitting, back hunched over with your knees tucked into your chest on the breakfast table chair, zoning out as your best friend Sophie continues barking at you and your inconsistent commitment. 

“I don’t even understand why you’re considering going! Does the man realize what it takes to leave your own shop for a full week?” she fumes, adjusting her royal jelly sheet mask while cursing at your ex-husband for pressuring you into going to the family retreat. 

“Not everyone can just pack their bags and go swimming at the cottage, Jesus Christ” she rolls her eyes. 

“He didn’t pressure me,” you told her pouting. “He wants to do it for the kids” you mumbled looking down as you defended him. 

You invited your best friend Sophie over to your apartment that evening for your weekly slumber party, a time you each looked forward to dedicating a bottle of wine and chardonnay over some gossip, spilling all the uneventful drama in your lives. 

Perhaps you revealed too much drama to your best friend tonight. 

“I don’t think I would mind going, to be honest” you hiccup, words slurring. “I haven’t had a vacation in so long, Sophie, and the girls really want to go! I would feel bad for leaving them with nothing to do this summer.” confessing through the alcohol. 

Cheeks flushed, you sigh as you play with your silk robe mindlessly while Sophie shakes her head at you, one hand coming up to snap at you and bring you back to reality. 

“Hello? Earth to Ms. Divorcee?” She sighs, rolling her eyes in frustration. “You said you wanted to set boundaries with him! To cut the line straight and keep your distance so you could get over your feelings for him! Show him who’s boss!” 

“He said he’s willing to put his music projects on hold for us,” you muttered quietly, the thought making your heart weak as you smiled at the memory of Hongjoong teasing you about your flower pot. Your chest blossomed with warmth now. 

Sophie sighs, shaking her head as she thinks just how differently you were feeling four wine glasses ago.

“Listen, honey, I’m just warning you in advance” she sips the golden liquid in her glass before placing it on the table. 

“Take it from a girl who’s had three divorces. I mean look at me! I’m still somewhat young, I’ve got no kids, no responsibilities, filthily rich, and not once have I had to pay for my own divorce settlement fees!” 

You nod mindlessly, eyes blinking softly under the bright kitchen lights. 

“What you need is a provider, sweetheart,” she crooned, caressing your head. 

“A guy who won’t leave you stressed and unimpressed like Hongjoong does.”

You continue mindlessly nodding your head at her words, ears perking up when you hear small footsteps come down the stairs. 

“Hi mom, Hi aunt Sophie.” Eunbyeol greets, eyes glued to her iPad that Eunseo trails after from behind, whining how it was now her turn to play Super Mario.  

“Hi girls,” Sophie replies like the cool, hot aunt she is, eyes shut as she’s concentrating on giving herself a collarbone massage right now. 

“Hey sweetheart,” you mumbled, smiling at your daughters standing near the fridge getting a glass of water. 

“Say, did your dad tell you guys anything about the cottage?” You blurt out loud, avoiding the look that Sophie gives you. Eunbyeol looks up from the glowing screen, ears perking in interest. “No, not much, why?” 

Eunseo snatches the iPad from her twin, coming over to you. “Did Dad say we’re going?” She asks enthusiastically, eyes widening. Sophie is quick to assure them. 

“Now of course not girls, your mother here was just-”

“Oh fuck it, why not?” you say confidentially, shining a bright smile. “Let’s go to the cottage!” You exclaimed in drunk excitement, all three girls staring at you with their jaws hanging at your sudden profanity as well as your final decision. 

Oh, how dangerous the effects of a bottle of wine were. 

Eunseo and Eunbyeol immediately embrace each other in a passionate hug, squealing in excitement that their plan actually worked. You and Hongjoong were now both convinced. “Oh my gosh, we’re going to go as a family!” They cried in happiness. You giggled at their joy, reciprocating their enthusiasm.  

Sophie leans back in her seat defeated, shaking her head with pursed lips as she picks up the whole Chardonnay bottle and sips it. 

“Oh whatever. . . This isn’t my problem anyways.” 

When Hongjoong drops by the next morning to pick up Eunbyeol and Eunseo from your house for the weekend, he can’t lie but be a little heartbroken at the way his daughters ignore his kiss to them first thing. They instead, immediately shove the cottage advertising pamphlet in his face with victorious grins. 

“See! We told you mom would say yes!” 

“Say yes to what?” He pouts, avoiding the paper and obsessively trying to peck a kiss to each of his daughter's cheeks. The idea of going to the cottage almost slipped the busy man’s mind after almost a week of no news from you. 

“What’s so important that you guys don’t even say hi to me anymore?” he sulks.

Eunseo giggles, fighting back her laughter when her dad tries to tickle her with his kisses. 

“We’re going to the cottage!”

Hongjoong stills himself, leaning back to make sure he heard her correctly. 

“We’re what?”

Eunbyeol, taking after her mother, has a cheeky expression on her face as she places her hands on her hips and sasses her father. 

“Pack your bags and swimming shorts, daddy, we’re going on a family vacation!” 

In perfect timing, you manage to stumble out your front door, coffee mug in hand and mid-yawn when you realize Hongjoong is already staring at you in shock. 

“What?” you snap, still grumpy from your slight hangover. “You’ve never seen a woman wake up before?” You replied, asking your kids if they packed all their stuff. 

The twins watch as their dad stands up from his crouched position. 

“You’re going to go to the cottage?”

At Hongjoongs words you freeze, everything coming back to you all at once. The wine, the twins, the promises, it hits you like a moving truck. 

“Well…”

“No take backs mom! You said it yourself last night that you were excited to go to the cottage!” One of the twins pointed out. 

Hongjoong doesn’t take his eyes off of you. 

“I-I did say that, didn’t I?” You chuckled sheepishly, toes curling at the rookie mistake you made in parenting 101: saying yes when you should’ve said no. 

Your ex-husband quickly tells the kids to put their things in the trunk, promising he’ll be right with them after talking to you. As Hongjoong dashes up the stairs in his white polo golf shirt, you feel slightly exposed being in only your silk slip dress and robe. 

“I didn’t realize you’d be here so early” you mumbled, looking down at your toes. 

He ignores you. “So I’m guessing we’re going then?” He smirks, looking at you with an expression of undeniable cockiness and peaked interest. 

You shrug nonchalantly. “Let’s surround the focus of this trip towards the kids” you remind him, straightening your back.

Hongjoong nods, agreeing with you wholeheartedly. “Of course, that was my intention from the beginning,” he smiles. 

You swallow the lump in your throat, unnoticing his stare drop at your breasts perking up from the cool morning air. You jump in surprise as you hear the honking of the car. 

“Come on, love birds! We gotta go back to dad’s to get our swimming stuff!” Eunbyeol cackles, leaning from the backseat into the driver's seat window. Eunseo already begins journaling in her hello kitty note book, an organized list of what she’ll need to bring to the cottage.

Hongjoong looks back at his daughters, before looking back at you with a smile. 

“Let’s keep in touch about details, alright?”

You nod silently, gripping your mug. At the sound of your nextdoor neighbor coming out, Hongjoong contemplates for a moment before quickly leaning forward, shielding you from their view with his backside. Clearing his throat, Hongjoong nods his head to the inside of your house, leaning forward to whisper to you. 

“Think, um, you should get inside, it’s getting cold,” he mutters, his dimples faintly showing. You glare up at him, “I’m going to say goodbye to my own daughters”. Still clueless to what he was referring to. He grins, shrugging his shoulders before looking at you. 

“If you insist. Just thought you wouldn’t want your neighbor to see what I can see, would you?”

You gasp at his words, looking down at your chest to see what he means before wrapping your robe around you. You quickly waved goodbye to your girls before you shut the door in Hongjoong’s smug face. 

It’s now become the second time you’ve done that.

Thankfully, the next time you see Hongjoong you’re wearing a much more appropriate outfit. In a white cotton blouse and casual jean shorts, your effortlessly chic vacation outfit was the only highlight today, considering the day you had been internally dreading for so long was finally here. 

You tried to take deep breaths while scurrying all over your house and finishing some last minute packing. Reassuring yourself that a family getaway couldn’t kill you. 

Right?

Reservations at the cottage were made over the phone last week, booking a house with the perfect lake side view, access to the forest trail and close proximity to the offered activities. It would only be a seven day stay, both in your respective rooms, (you clearly emphasized you and Hongjoong had to have separate ones) while the twins would lodge together. You had no intention of interacting with your husband alone together on this trip, apart from the quote on quote, ‘family bonding times’ you promised your daughters. And yet why were you here sweating nervously like a sinner in church?

“What a hot lady!” Eunbyeol wolf-whistles at your outfit when she walks through your bedroom doors. You jump at the sudden entrance, realizing Hongjoong was already here to pick you up with the girls.

A pair of black designer sunglasses slightly too big for her sat perched on her nose. Eunbyeol smiles before jumping onto your bed of clothes. You already know Hongjoong must’ve spoiled her and her sister with those, buying them a pair each.

“C’mon Byeol, off the bed” you quipped, packing your toothbrush as she reluctantly slugged off the covers. 

Your suspicions of Hongjoong buying them designer items are correct when Eunseo walks in, classily perching her matching white ones on her head before chastising her sister's tasteless compliment. 

“Elegant. She’s Elegant, Byeol. You don’t just go around wolf-whistling at people.” she rolls her eyes. 

“You look very pretty by the way, mom”

You smiled, nevertheless pleased at both their compliments and thanking them before going back to doing a last minute check of your things. 

Sun cream, clothes, makeup bag, swimsuit…

At the thought of your swimsuit you immediately blush, thinking back to how Sophie forced you to borrow her yellow bikini that left very little to the imagination. Despite your protests that you wouldn’t be needing it, she insisted. 

Hongjoong is last to walk through your front doors, swinging his car keys around his index finger and calling to his three girls from the downstairs foyer of your apartment. The man is clearly excited for the trip, he can’t lie. 

“Come on ladies, we’re gonna miss the chance to swim in that lake if we don't leave soon!” 

Hongjoong is your typical dad, except for the fact that he does not mess with dad!fashion. The producer is dressed classily from top to bottom in a loose-fitting designer button up with a pair of reformed denim pants, his pearl earrings and gold piercings complementing his outfit perfectly. 

Kim Hongjoong didn't play when it came to fashion. Even as a father. 

“Coming!” You exclaimed, ushering your kids out of your bedroom and making your way down the stairs with your suitcase. Seeing that it would only be a week at the cottage, you tried to pack light, though you may have to reconsider that thought with the way you struggled to lift the case properly. 

“Need some help?”

A strong hand comes to help you, immediately inhaling the scent of Hongjoong’s cologne as he brushes his knuckles near yours. “Here, I’ve got it” he assures, making you step back and admire your undeniably fine husband. 

Ex-husband. You meant Ex-husband. Scratch out the fine as well. 

You watch from behind as he struts out the foyer, smiling and joking playfully with his twin daughters, carrying your luggage out the door with them. 

What was this trip doing to you?

Once you’re on route to the cottage resort and the GPS is set, the car is blissfully quiet, each and every one of you surprisingly at peace. Jittery excitement still lays deep in your daughters' minds as you overhear them talk about what they want to do first once they arrive. 

Hongjoong’s 2000s soft rock and ballad playlist is playing quietly throughout the speakers right now, relishing in the music as luscious, green trees flash by you from the passenger window. 

While Byeol and Eunseo distract each other on their own, Hongjoong turns to talk to you. 

“I’m not going to lie, it’s been forever since I’ve been on a road trip” he smiles.

You copy him, feeling good in the moment. “Same, I don’t remember the last time I went to one.” you confessed, thinking only of all the times you had in the past when you were a child and as a teenager. 

Even back to when you were a young college student, wide eyed and so innocent to the chaos of your first college retreat with Hongjoong. That was the summer you two began dating, and boy were you fools in love. You cautiously look to your husband driving, bringing up past memories.

“Do you remember that one college retreat we went on during second year?” 

The corners of Hongjoong’s lips are already grinning upwards, smiling as he reciprocates your expression. 

“Right, like I could forget that summer” he replies sarcastically, gripping the steering wheel. 

It’s an easy memory to digest. A time when you were both so young, filled with nothing but dreams and passionate love for one another. Love so deep, that you remember the nights you’d spend locked up with Hongjoong under the sweaty bed sheets inside your cabin, blissfully making love until the sun would rise and he would finally kiss you to sleep. Perhaps, it was that summer when you realized you were going to marry and be with Kim Hongjoong forever someday. 

Though it’s too bad, someday already passed. 

“Do you remember when Seonghwa got so drunk he ended up confessing to Jieun in front of all the girl’s sleeping cabins?” Hongjoong snickers, relishing in the embarrassing memory his friend always hates him for bringing up. You laugh out loud, remembering the memory. “Oh my god, yes!” You turned to face him, shaking your head. “In nothing but his underwear, right?” 

Hongjoong nodded, smiling with one hand on the steering wheel as he drove.

“Didn’t he end up jumping into the lake afterwards? With you having to go in and save him as well?” You share your laughter with one another, catching up on past memories as your twin daughters listened attentively in the back, reliving them with you together.

That's what makes the hour and half drive from the city into the wilderness feel so short, finally pulling into the graveled parking lot of the vast cottage resort. White suburban cottages lined along one another, a good amount of distance in between each for every family staying. 

As Hongjoong parked the car, the view outside was so glorious you had to hold your breath. Glistening clear blue waves in the lake reflect the bright sunshine from above. A light breeze is present today with the way the willow and oak trees swayed gently. 

“It’s beautiful” you gasped from as far as you got out of the car, stretching your upper body with eyes closed as you inhaled the fresh air. 

Hongjoong stills his movements, shutting the door before replying with his gaze caught at your backside.

“Yeah, it is” he smiles.

Both of you turn around at a loud voice coming from behind. “We’re gonna explore the campsites and souvenir shops first!” Eunbyeol shouts as she runs away with her sister's hand in hers, towards the wooden cabin that's settled further away. 

“What about lunch?” you call to them. 

“We’re not hungry!”

Hongjoong tells them to be safe, and to stick around nearby. You smirked, helping him unload the trunk as you told him. “They’ll be fine. They’re probably too excited to even think right now” you giggled, bumping shoulders with him. 

You feel the tension that was once so strong between you two fade slowly, walking up the wooden steps of your lodge and exchanging conversation with each other.

“Hey, I just want my babies to be safe” he admits, a grin on his face as he holds the cooler in his hands. You chuckle, shaking your head at his protectiveness. 

“Here it is!” he exclaims, setting the suitcases in the front foyer as he opens the door. “Lodge number 1117”

The two story cottage is larger than it appears from the outside, having a modern yet rustic interior that you and Hongjoong admired. It had everything you would need, from a well designed kitchen area to a cozy living room space.

“It’s perfect, the kids will love it” you beam, looking at the hanging hammock chair in the corner of the living room and the gray stone fireplace. It fit perfectly for your family. 

Hongjoong smiles, sunglasses perched on top of his head as he sets the luggage down near the kitchen. Walking up beside him, you help him unload the cooler and ice boxes first, settling into your new home for the next few days. 

“I’m guessing you still drink?” you ask, looking in his direction as you unloaded the case of beer you saw him bring from the trunk.

He gestured to the booze. “C’mon, it wouldn’t be a vacation without it, would it?” 

You wholeheartedly agreed, placing a few in the fridge before you shut it closed. 

“Hopefully, this time we won’t end up shit faced like we did back in college” you laugh, turning to face him. 

“I can already picture that time we got so drunk from that bottle of tequila my friend brought, we snuck out of the campsite and went to the forest and got lost.” you spoke, the memory a little foggy but nonetheless fresh in your mind. 

Hongjoong smiles, listening as you speak.  

“There wasn’t anything but trees and bushes in that forest!” You exclaimed, shaking your head. “What did we even do there?” 

Hongjoong replies nonchalantly, folding the cardboard box in his hands.

“I’m pretty sure we fucked.”

You momentarily freeze at his words, before letting out a soft awkward laugh, causing him to look up. 

“No we didn’t, Hongjoong” you immediately deny, not believing his words. But your brows began furrowing at the foggy memory, starting to realize you really couldn’t trust your alcohol tolerance, now as an adult and even back when you were a college student. Did you guys have sex? In a forest out of all places?

Hongjoong leans against the kitchen counter, across from you as he crosses his arms in front of his chest and smirks smugly. 

“Nope, I distinctly remember it” he recalls, taking a step closer so he was now in your space. 

“I held your hand in mind as we walked up that trail by the cliff. And gosh, were we horny that night, because I remember you complaining about all that dirt you got on your knees from giving me the greatest head i've ever experienced in my entire life-” 

Slapping your hands over his mouth to stop him from going on, you blushed as you glared at him. 

“Jesus christ,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes before confessing.

“I get it, we fucked.”

Suddenly, you and Hongjoong break out into giggles like varsity sweethearts again at the story. Though embarrassed and cringing internally from the way you acted as young adults, it was nice to share them together now. At the proximity in which you’re standing in, you can't help but stare at each other softly. A hand wraps around your waist, making your breath hitch as he pulls you closer. 

“What are you doing?” you grin, watching him.

He looms over you, able to tell that something sits right at the tip of his tongue that he hesitantly decides to say. “I’m pretty sure,” he mutters, staring at your face and cautiously grazing the skin under your blouse. You feel your breathing speed up. 

“I also held you like this in my arms as you were leaning against that tree” his grip gentle and immediately transporting you back to the scenery that night. His sharp tone contrasts his touch. 

“Yknow, the one we fucked against?” he teases to you one more time.

The scent of burning campfire. A cold, midnight breeze. The feeling of the rough cedar tree against your back as Hongjoong thrusted inside you with every delirious snap of his hips, holding you close while he fucked you to oblivion with only the forest animals standing witness to your sinful actions. The film replays like a cheesy R-rated romance movie in your mind. 

“Did you, now?” You gulp, looking up at him as you adjust to the foreign feeling of his touch on your hips. 

“Yeah. I remember it all” he states, smirking down at you with an intense gaze.

The memory dies down when you catch yourself staring at his lips, arms finding their way around his neck as he dives down to whisper softly to you.

“Do you remember too?” He asks.

How he held you in his arms. How he whispered in your ear while you came around his cock, drool and traces of cum littering the corners of your mouth while Hongjoong didn’t care if you were stretching his flannel from how hard you were tugging at the material.

You nod. “I do,” you muttered, lashes fluttering as you felt as though your heart wouldn’t stop beating. “I remember you kissed me on the lips,” you confessed. 

Perhaps you wanted him to do it again right now. 

He looks in your eyes, searching for your approval that you desperately give, breath hitting each other's faces as he slowly leaned down to try and connect your lips. His chest is pressed against yours, and you begin to realize you haven’t shared the same breath like that in so long. You were so close to kissing right then and there.

If only you leaned in closer…

“We’re back!”

You push Hongjoong across the kitchen, shoving his hip painfully into the marble counter and ignoring his high-pitched groan of agony as you immediately look away to avoid suspicion, continuing to grab the beer from the icebox in front of you.

“Girls!” you exclaimed, voice wavering. 

Of course, Eunbyeol and Eunseo walk in with matching postcards and goodies from the souvenir shop in their hands, their sunglasses perched on their heads as their eyes lit up with excitement. They were still oblivious to the fact that they almost caught their parents about to make out in the kitchen.

“Dad, this place is amazing!” Eunbyeol deadpans, telling her father. “They even have jet skiing on the other side of the lake! We gotta go now!”

Hongjoong clutches his hip, pursing his lips as he hides his expression of pain and surprise. 

“Really? That's great sweetie”

Eunseo however, is quick to catch on.

“What were you guys doing?” she looks at you suspiciously. Her words hang in the air for a moment. 

“Were you guys about to kis-”

Hongjoong and you frantically scurry to find a plausible excuse, shuffling awkwardly. 

“I was helping your dad unload the cooler” 

“I was helping your mom get something out of her eye”

Both girls stare at you meekly. Eunbyeol scrunches her nose. “Huh?”

Plastering on a fake smile, you briskly leaped over the luggage nearby, ushering them upstairs before they had the chance to ask anymore questions.

“I think it’s time to unpack your things.” you watched their eyebrows quirk at the way you pushed them out the kitchen.

“We can do it on our own, mom! It’s really no big d-”

You clamp Eunbyeol’s mouth shut with your hand, blushing profusely as you walk away with them. 

Hongjoong stands there alone in the kitchen, rubbing his hip and wondering what the hell just almost happened.

The next few days, you and Hongjoong don’t discuss the incident between you two. Rather, the beginning of the trip after that event has become a painful performance trying your best to be eerily polite yet distant to each other in front of your children, as if that would make you forget the fact that you two almost kissed in the kitchen.

“Could you pass the sunscreen, honey?” Hongjoong would say awkwardly, turning his back to flash you a cheery smile on the lake deck as Eunbyeol and Eunseo watched you interact while floating in the cool, summer waters. 

You passed the bottle to your ex-husband while maintaining awkward distance. “Of course, darling!” 

“Thanks honey!”

“No problem sweetheart!”

This resulted in Eunbyeol and Eunseo looking at their parents in horror, the youngest twin muttering under her breath as they discussed an urgent change of plans.

“We have to get them to stop being weird.”

Apart from that, the ‘family bonding time’ promise to your daughters was maintained, and each day was an adventure for all of you in terms of what you would do together next. An accumulation of forest trekking, water-skiing and outdoors barbeques on the patio of your cottage made everyday feel more and more special for your girls, seeing how they relished in having both their parents with them at the same place and time. It became moments of peace and resolution that eventually became special for you and Hongjoong too. 

“I hope we stay here forever,” Eunseo blurted out one evening after a blissful day near the lakeshore, watching as the sun began to go down. She was busy licking the sticky sides of her melting ice cream cone in one hand, the other one held in yours. 

Hongjoong and Eunbyeol were a few feet ahead, laughing loudly and holding hands as they compared their fruit popsicles with one another to see whose was bigger. 

“You and Byeol would eventually get sick of going to the lake all the time” You smiled, the corners of your mouth turning up before her next words made the strings of your heart tug. 

“Sure, but at least you and dad could be together with us too.”

You watched as she ran up to her sister and dad, joining in on their fun as she began boasting that her ice cream was better than theirs. Hongjoong’s smile is the biggest you’ve ever seen it to be, looking down at his girls with a golden tan from the past few days spent outside, and hair slightly damp from swimming. 

Any person could tell the love in his eyes was as pure a father’s love for his girls could be. 

Her words stuck with you until that very night, where after dinner, board games, and much pacing back and forth in your own room before getting into bed, you decided to cautiously approach Hongjoong’s room on the opposite side of the second floor.

Bare feet padded across the wooden floors as you peeked through the sliver of the open door.

He's wearing an oversized sleep tee and blue pajama pants, getting in some nighttime reading before bed. His glasses are perched on his nose, intently reading his paperback novel. He looks as domestic as a husband gets. 

At the sound of your steps though, he sits up from his relaxed state on his bed, one arm that was supporting his head coming out as the other hand settles the book down on his abdomen. He looks surprised to see you. 

“Hi” he states, looking at you. 

“Hey”

Hongjoong’s expression immediately softened at your figure, watching as you shuffled awkwardly in front of him. The room is quiet. 

“Can I come in?”

“Of course,” He nods, setting his bookmark in the spine of the cover and turning his attention to you, offering you to take a seat on his linen covers. You see his polaroid camera with photos taken of Eunbyeol and Eunseo perched on a desk nearby. 

You don’t see the ones he secretly took of you, as those are in his drawers. 

“Don’t tell me you can’t sleep by yourself” he gently teases before watching as your smile doesn't reach the ends of your eyes. You wrap your silk robe closer to your body, feeling sort of vulnerable. 

“How do you like the resort so far?” He asks, watching as you played with your fingers absentmindedly. “Is the room okay?”

“It’s wonderful Hongjoong, better than I could ever have hoped for.” You spoke up, telling the truth.

It’s hard to arrange your thoughts in your head when it’s just the two of you in his room. The kids were already fast asleep. Now was your chance to just tell him how you felt. Why were you hesitating so much?

“Hey, look at me.” Hongjoong’s soft voice calls out to you, a protective hand coming out to caress the back of your head in habit. He can tell you want to say something, and the gesture makes you emotional, remembering how he always used to do that to ease your nerves when you were younger. 

“What’s wrong? Am I making things uncomfortable on the trip?” he worries about the boundaries you established with him at the beginning, watching as your lip begins to quiver and the emotions suddenly overcome you. 

“I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.” you sniffled, tears forming near the brim of your eyes as you looked up at the father of your children. 

Hongjoong’s eyes widened, shifting through the covers over to you. “Woah, hey, shh that’s alright I got you” he coos, immediately going into dad mode and embracing you in his arms, letting your head rest against his chest. 

The action is natural, no longer foreign or weird, and you silently thank him for leaving reassuring circles on your back. Husband or not, Hongjoong would always be your best friend first. You had forgotten how much you missed this comforting side to him.  

“Tell me what you’re sorry about” he states, chest tightening at your wet cheeks before he slowly raises your chin to look him in the eyes. 

“For being mean to you for so long” you sniffle, a weakened state of emotional guilt eating away at you. You let him watch you carefully.

“I’ve been thinking about how happy the girls have been during this trip. A-And it kills me that we’ve been fighting for the past seven years, and that they’ve grown up seeing such bad parts of ourselves, of my own self” you ramble, confessing how you felt. 

You look up. “They’re happy because we’re together Joong. Because we’re not fighting or avoiding each other like we used to do before.”

He watches as you look up at him with tears forming in your eyes. 

“You’re such a good dad. And I realized you deserve to hear that.”

At the sounds of more sniffles, Hongjoong finally speaks, smiling as he brushes stray hair from your face. 

“I wouldn’t want anyone else but you to be the mother of our children, I hope you know that”

His truthfulness throws you off guard.

“I’m sorry too” he sighs, letting you sit up straight and look him in the eyes properly. “I haven’t been the best partner either, baby. We were both mean to each other.” he says, brushing a tear away from your face.

“I’m pretty sure you’ve thrown a hair dryer at me once before as well” he attempts to make you laugh, affection blooming in his chest when he sees he succeeds, wiping your tears. 

“But I already knew how you felt, sweetheart. I always know” he smiles, eyes mirroring a weak ache in his heart.  

“Married or not, we were once friends. And now we’re family” His voice turns deep, strong and dependable like the father he’s become.

“We can start over” you tell him, smiling as he folds his hands over your palm. “We can always do better from now and going forward. For ourselves, and for Eunseo and Eunbyeol.” 

Hongjoong nods, hesitantly for a split second before he leans over to press a soft kiss to your cheek, showing a gesture of affection that you longed for so long.

You shut your eyes, the kiss making your heart flutter. 

“Friends again?” He whispers, though silently wanting something more. 

You sighed, pulling him in closer to embrace in a hug. “Friends” you nodded while inhaling his comforting scent. 

The next morning, and for the rest of the remaining trip onwards, you and Hongjoong’s relationship dynamics did the equivalent of a 180 degree turn. 

It’s hard to believe you two really just wanted to be ‘friends’

Eunbyeol and Eunseo could tell by the way you talked to each other more, noticing you share more secret glances and fleeting touches that were innocent to the eye, but concealing a longing that you both tried to hide. You knew you couldn’t get carried away. You and Hongjoong were simply resolving a rough patch in your parenting. Not getting back together in a relationship. 

But after spending more time together while Eunbyeol and Eunseo became occupied on their own, it was hard keeping the interactions to a justified amount. Long walks in the forest, evenings spent cooking together, even cuddling together on the couch during family movie night. Thinking your kids were too busy watching the vintage Disney movie play on screen, when in fact, the real love story they were more invested in was happening right in front of their eyes, watching their parents falling in love again.

This led to the last event in their plan that they hoped would finally seal the deal. 

On Saturday night, the last night of your trip before you had to go back to the city, you and Hongjoong are surprised to find mini invitations left on your beds, scribbled in glitter pen and cursive handwriting reading out the following:

Gourmet Dinner Date for 2

Time: 7:30 pm

Location: Outdoor patio 

Dress code: Formal and Classy

You and your husband chuckled at the cards left on your beds, suddenly finding a twin each by your side and ushering you to get ready. 

“Do you and your sister even know how to cook dinner, Eunbyeol?” You questioned as your daughter rushed to push you into your walk-in closet, forcing you to get ready. 

She huffs, placing her hands on her hips looking offended. 

“At least my cooking skills don’t take after Dad’s, mom.” She mumbled, choosing your shoes for you. “Have some trust in a girl!”

Meanwhile, Hongjoong gets pampered by Eunseo in the other room, though in reality, her blunt critiques on her dads fashion are bruising his pride at the moment. 

“Dad, you have many normal clothes to wear. You have to chill with the ripped baggy jeans.” she demands, trudging through his closet to find something formal for him to wear. 

He begins to protest but his daughter shakes her head. “You’re supposed to look good for mom!” she huffs, searching on her own. At Eunseo’s words, the man starts to slightly worry, scratching the back of his head. 

“You and Byeol are gonna join too, right?”

She stops for a second, looking back to her father as she avoids the question and instead retorts back. 

“It’s just a date, Dad. Relax”

Back to what was happening in the other room at the end of the hallway, you huffed in frustration when you walked back into your closet after Byeol rejected another one of your outfits for the dinner date. 

“I have nothing else to wear, sweetie, these are all the clothes I have.” you came to terms with a hand coming to your forehead after having searched in despair. 

The ten year old shakes her head before pushing you out of the way and digging deep into your suitcase. She reveals a delicate piece of material you didn’t even realize you packed. 

“We got some help from Aunt Sophie and Uncle Hwa to pack you guys clothes that you could wear for a special occasion.” she wiggles her eyebrows, a smug grin on her face as you gap in shock. 

You inspect the dress, lips parting in disbelief as you feel the material. 

“I haven’t worn this since I was in college.” You uttered softly to yourself. 

At one longing look of the short dress, you shake your head, walking back into the closet to find something else. “I-I can’t wear this Byeol, what would your dad think?“ you asked nervously.

“Dad said he thinks your boobs looked hot in this dress so Aunt Sophie and I picked it specially” she looks up at you, proud of what she just said.  

You whip your head around, mouth hanging open in shock.

“Byeol! Where did you hear that from?” 

She sighs. “Dad had one too many drinks this one time and started talking about you guys back in college” she explained before shoving the infamous black dress in your hands. 

“Talked a lot about how pretty you were,” she draws out her words in a teasing voice. You curse your husband for his mistake.

You bite your lip as you stare down at the fabric in your hands. 

It was undeniable. You knew you looked amazing in this dress. You could testify from the amount of times Hongjoong ripped it off of you after countless night out’s filled with sexual tension and playful flirting. For god's sake, Eunbyeol and Eunseo could’ve almost had another sibling thanks to that dress.

“Fine.” you muttered bashfully, turning away as you walked into the closet to change. 

“But I’m just gonna try it on.”

Thirty minutes, one mental breakdown and too many outfit changes to count later, you walk down the stairs wearing the dress Eunbyeol had successfully persuaded you to wear. 

What do you know, the kid was right. Your boobs looked amazing in that dress. 

Not just your boobs, your whole body looked incredible with its strong curves and the beautiful fill it gave to the dress, making it slightly tighter than when you wore it as a twenty year old, but still all the more mature and sophisticated. You really did look hot.

Eunbyeol rushes down the stairs before you, catching up with her sister to inspect her job on their fathers preparation. 

“Well?” She says expectedly, looking at her dad. “Let’s take a look!”

He sports a simple yet timeless white collar dress shirt, the first few buttons undone as he wears a form fitting black dress-vest that accentuates his waist, dress pants paired to go along with it. Though simple, his silver rings pulled the outfit together, making him just as good looking and sophisticated as you were. 

Hongjoong’s back faces towards your front, watching as the man nervously shuffles his hands in his pockets.

“How do I look guys?” He gulps, adjusting his collar and sweeping his blond hair back. 

Eunseo rolls her eyes, a grin on her proud little face. “Do you even have to ask, dad?” She’s more than confident in the outfit she and Seonghwa coordinated together. 

He chuckles, shaking his head as he nervously tells them. 

“I want to look good for your mom, you know what I mean? She's a difficult woman to impress sometimes.”

“I’m difficult?” You tease, walking down the last few steps of the stairs. 

The man turns his head around, losing his breath at the sight of you standing there in front of him, wearing that dress that he hadn’t seen you wear for so long, looking breathtaking in every possible way. 

“Hi” you grinned softly, feeling sort of shy.

The way you fit in that dress made an insatiable hunger fuel inside Hongjoongs chest, eyes gazing at the way you strutted over in the black, lace covered material with your hair tied back and glossed lips turned upwards as your dimples showed. He breaks from his admiration when you quirk a brow at him, making the man almost fall to his knees and stutter uncontrollably. 

“I-I No I didn’t mean that-“

You giggle as you bravely take Hongjoongs hands in your own, shutting him up as you turn to your daughters standing in front of you, starstruck at your aura. 

“Outside, right?” you winked at them. 

“Right this way!” Eunseo enthusiastically leads you out back to the outdoor patio, a perfect view of the garden and lakeside coming into effect. Hongjoong slips his hand from yours, and slides it across your waist, pulling you into his side. 

“My parents are too cool” Eunbyeol sighs under her breath, watching from behind in awe.

Your ex-husband makes you swoon when he leans in to whisper softly. “You look breathtaking, sweetheart.” feeling an immense sense of pride at how lucky he was to make you the mother of his children. 

You blush, turning to him to whisper playfully back. 

“Not bad yourself.” 

You both look forward when you come to a stop at the patio steps, sheer amazement at the full preparation your daughters did for this event. Fairy lights were hung around the area, a table with two chairs on either side placed with a white table cloth and a bouquet of freshly hand picked flowers from the forest, battery powered candles that were sold at the souvenir shop lit in the middle and glowing softly. 

Eunbyeol dashes to the door when it rings, making you and Hongjoong furrow your brows. 

“Is someone here?” he asks, watching Eunseo fold a napkin over her arm like the pro waiter she was. The other one walks out, an oily fast food paper bag in her hands as she smiles. “Dinner is served!” 

“Turns out that diner 15 minutes away also delivers!” She chuckled, helping her sister plate the two cheeseburgers, fries, and vanilla and strawberry milkshakes. 

You and Hongjoong continue to watch in stunned amazement as the girls prepare the not exactly gourmet(?) but still impressive meal in front of you, their small hands working swiftly. 

“You guys prepared all of this?” You asked, getting a little emotional. They grin proudly, nodding their heads. “We called the place earlier and planned it all by ourselves!”

You pressed a kiss to each of their soft cheeks, thanking them both as Hongjoong did the same. 

“What did I do to get so lucky with my girls?” he smiles, ruffling their heads. 

“What about you guys?” You asked, watching as they slowly backed away to give you two some privacy. 

“Natalie and her mom invited us over for dinner and a sleepover tonight at her cottage,” Eunbyeol smiles. At the mention of their newly made friend that they had gotten close to over the week, Hongjoong looks at you then back at them. 

“What? But- ”

She cuts him off, rolling her eyes. “Her mom said it’s totally fine with her. She’s only two cottages down, and she’ll make sure we’re back in time again for tomorrow when we leave!” 

The two girls smile in excitement, though the both of you have your parental instincts kick in. 

“Please?” they begged, wanting you to let them go so that they could do this for you guys as much as they wanted to do it for themselves. “She’s waiting for us now!”

Hongjoong feels guilty. “C’mon, you guys should still join us!”

Eunseo immediately shakes her head, declining the offer. 

“Tonight is all about you guys. We don’t want to intrude” she chuckles, bumping shoulders with her sister who chips in.

“We’ll text you guys in the middle to let you know everything’s good of course” 

You and Hongjoong smile, a feeling of immense proudness overwhelming you from seeing your daughters act so grown up. There wasn’t anything else you felt grateful for more. 

“Thank you girls.” you muttered softly, watching as they flashed you a wink before hurrying out through the backyard door. 

“Don’t get all kissy in the backyard!” Eunbyeol teases, making cheesy smooching sounds with the back of her hand as her sister rolls her eyes and shoves her out. 

Before you know it, you’re left standing with just the sound of smooth jazz playing on the patio speakers and the buzzing of the summer cicadas. 

“She takes after you, I hope you know that” You told Hongjoong softly.  

He chuckles, “Not as much as you.” He gestures to the table. “Shall we?” 

And that’s how the next few hours seem to pass by without even realizing. 

You see, there was a reason why you fell in love with the man sitting in front of you, and you’re just beginning to remember it now. Being with Hongjoong felt as if the moment was everlasting, and you could testify that from the amount of laughter and deep conversation that was shared over dinner, bringing you to sit on that patio until the sun had set. Every so often you’d smile again at the thought of the twins preparing this all for you. 

“I don’t remember the last time I’ve been on a date like this” You blurted out after laughing about something, taking a sip of your strawberry milkshake through a straw. 

“Oh, so we’re going on dates now, are we?” Hongjoong grins, making you roll your eyes at him. 

You lean forward on the table cloth, watching as a glimmer passes through your husband’s eyes while he sits back in his chair, cocking his head to the side as he clears his voice. 

“But you’ve gone on dates after we split, haven’t you?” he asks, leaning forward in interest now, letting his chin rest on his palm. 

You shook your head slowly.

“Nope. Not since signing those papers” you revealed. 

Hongjoong furrows his brows in surprise. “And why’s that?” 

You suddenly didn’t have an answer. “I-I don’t know, I just…” You began, watching how he looked at you with an unreadable expression. You smiled, looking down and suddenly feeling embarrassed. 

“I guess I was too focused on running the bridal shop, I couldn’t find the time to.” You use as a cliche excuse. 

“Bullshit” he retorts back immediately. 

“It’s true!” You protested, throwing a fry at him that he dodges, landing on his finished plate. 

“You always did say back when we were younger that you wanted to be a designer. And look at you now” he admires, letting the candle lights shine a youthful glow to your face. 

“You always said you wanted to become a music producer and write your own songs.” you reciprocated, smiling as you soaked in the presence of one another. “And here you are now.” 

You think for a moment before asking the same question. 

“How about you?” 

Hongjoong silently shakes his head as his answer, though silently thinking about something else. The music changes to some old Billy Joel song in the back. You don’t realize it, but Hongjoong smiles to himself when he realizes the girls added it to the playlist. Of course they had to, it was one of the songs you played at your wedding. 

“What were we thinking when we got married like that?” You asked out loud, looking at how far you’d both come. You definitely skipped some of the order of the stages of a normal relationship. 

“I mean, we had no money, no prospects. Hell, we didn’t even have a car, Hongjoong!” you realized.

Your husband laughs, sitting straight and letting some skin show through his unbuttoned collar. 

“We were young” he justifies. 

“Yeah, and stupid too,” you pointed out, feeling the summer breeze pass by. It felt good to sit here like this with him.

You wondered, could sitting here like this with Hongjoong be a regular thing? After this trip, would you be able to walk back into each other’s lives again like this? 

As both parents and lovers?

Hongjoong brings up something you wouldn’t have expected him to. 

“Do you remember when we first found out about Eunseo and Eunbyeol?” he questioned softly, looking at you. 

You blink, taken aback. Suddenly you’re back in your college dorm washroom, sobs wracking through your body as Hongjoong who had only just sent his first few mixtapes to recording stations and companies nearby, pulled you close into his chest, eyeing the two lines left on the counter while he caressed your back. Only twenty years old and figuring out what you wanted to do with your lives, you were suddenly stuck in a sudden situation that had made you feel like your dreams would have been given up on completely. 

“I do,” you told him, pulling yourself from the memory. 

“I remember because in that moment I felt like the whole world was caving in”. You laughed, though it wasn’t fully cheerful.

“I don’t regret it, though” Hongjoong replies after some thought, gazing at you with truth in his eyes. 

You shook your head. “Of course. Neither do I.” 

It was a blessing to have two beautiful daughters as the product of your love.

“I don’t regret you either.” Hongjoong states.

You lock gazes, unable to take your eyes off of his face. 

“I loved you when I first met you and I still loved you when we divorced,” he says all at once, making your breath hitch and heart waver. 

“Don’t say that.” you tell him, looking away and suddenly reminding yourself you’re still divorced from the man sitting in front of you. 

How could he still love you after all this time? How could you feel the same about him?

Hongjoong continues, shaking his head as he bites back the lodge in his throat and makes up his mind. He has to tell you. 

“Truthfully, I don’t think I’ll ever stop loving you.” 

Don’t do this to me you begged silently.

“I’ve hurt you just as much as you’ve hurt me.” He swallows, thinking back to the times you already knew he was referring to. The times where you fought to the point where there wasn’t even anything worth fighting for anymore. 

“But you have given me the greatest gifts of my life.” He smiles, holding his tears back.

“And for that I will always love you.”

You push your seat from the table, suddenly feeling overwhelmed and wanting to avoid him.

“I can’t do this anymore.” you dejected, walking away from the patio and from Hongjoong.

There wasn’t anything else you could fake anymore. You couldn’t bear to hear the man you once loved, possibly even still love, say these things like he had a dagger lodged in his heart. Didn’t he know he was only going to do the same to you?

Hongjoong is quick to catch up, holding onto your wrist and turning you around, that your back collides with the nearest wall inside, pressing your fronts together and closing the distance.

“Why do you always run away from me? From the possibility of us?” He exclaimed, voice breaking. His heart crushed at the way you turned your head, hot tears already clouding your vision. 

“Because ‘us’ can’t happen again, Hongjoong!” You cried, staring up at the man you once promised your life to.

“Don’t you get it? Us going on this trip isn’t a sign to get back together. What would we do seven years after breaking up?”

“We could do it” He states firmly, staring you down, both your chests heaving.

You bite your tears back again. “No we couldn’t, honey. We would be pretending to think we solved our marriage. What would we do about our daughters? After putting them through our constant fighting— ”

He slams his lips to your own, shutting you up as you painfully resist his touch. Your hands came up to push him away, but at the sudden gesture, you’re already giving in and sobbing softly, letting him hold you for just one last time. 

Your lips mold so perfectly, it almost hurts how much you missed this feeling. To have him slot his arms around your waist, pull you in close, and cherish you. You almost forgot this feeling. 

He pulls away softly, watching your lashes flutter, pleading to you for a chance as he leans closer, making your breath hitch. 

“We could be together as a family again,” he states firmly, your name leaving his lips in a desperate plea. “We never know if we try—”

You drown out his words, looking up with tears falling as you cut him off. 

“Seven years ago I gave you those papers to sign, thinking that you would’ve chased after me,” 

Hongjoong holds his breath, watching as the next words stumble from your mouth. 

“I realize now, how stupid I was to think that.”

“I didn’t know you wanted me to chase you”

Shoving his chest away while mustering the last of your strength you uttered. “Of course I wanted you to chase me.” You let go of his hands. “It’s too late either way”, walking away from the defeated man.

Hongjoong stands alone near the patio entrance, watching his tears fall to the wooden floorboards. Holding the ring he had kept hidden in his trouser pocket, he plays with it in his fingers, silently wishing he had given it to you sooner. 

It rains the next morning on your departure back to the city. Perfect, considering it reflects the sudden storm of utter depression that falls upon your family. Long gone are the cheerful giggles and longing stares that were shared between you and Hongjoong during the ride to the cottage. 

There was no room for that, not after last night.

Eunbyeol and Eunseo sat slumped in the backseat, rain hitting the roof of the car as they mindlessly played on their cell phones. Really, they were peeking from behind every so often and watching their parents sit in the front seat with tension so thick, you could’ve cut it with a knife. 

What had they done wrong? They planned the trip, the activities, the dinner— it was all perfect. And yet why were you still fighting with each other? 

These questions racked in their brains, baffled to have witnessed the sight of their parents refusing to talk to each other after walking back from their friends' sleepover. 

Eunbyeol and Eunseo felt as useful as matchmakers without a couple, feeling their efforts all gone down the drain. 

At the sudden ring of your cell phone, you pick up, answering at the voice of your assistant. 

“I’m driving back up right now”

Hongjoong continues focusing on the road, the occasional wiping of rain from the windshield wipers on the front window. 

“Yes. That’s okay, I'll take care of it.” You muttered, glancing at the rear view mirror for a moment. Your twin daughters immediately sigh, having an idea of what to expect when you say those familiar words. 

“Thanks for letting me know.” 

You hang up the phone, 

“One of us isn’t going with you, are we?” Eunseo asks, making you look back at her with a sigh. 

“No, you’re not” You confess, apologetic. ‘I’m sorry honey. I really am.”

You look back facing the front, swallowing as you told Hongjoong. 

“You’ll have to drop me off at the studio. Some things aren’t working out with the client so they need me to come in and take care of it.”

He nods, unphased as he continues to look straight. 

“Will you be fine with the girls?” You asked carefully, watching them as they were slumped in the backseat.

Hongjoong grips the wheel before turning to you. 

“I‘ll be fine. Don’t worry about it” sending a small smile, though it doesn’t fully reach his eyes. 

The twins thank god that at least neither of them had to choose to go back home with either parent. 

They would’ve hated that more. 

After barely being able to depart and say goodbye to your daughters in front of your studio, holding them close for a warm embrace and thanking them for an unforgettable weekend, Hongjoong drives off with his daughters, an empty feeling cascading his thoughts. He puts on a smile still, trying to cheer up his girls. 

“What do you want to do first when we go home? Want to unpack and then eat? We can eat and then unpack. Or we could- ”

Eunseo crosses her arms, having been fed up for far too long.

“Dad, you must be out of your mind.” 

Hongjoong stills, furrowing his brows and peeking at the first born who crosses her arms, holding an attitude. 

“Eunseo, what are you- ” 

“You’re telling me you and Mom just spent a whole entire week together at the cottage, had the best time of your lives since separating with one another, and now you’re just going to go back to not speaking or talking to each other again?”

Hongjoong blinks at his daughter’s sudden outburst, already making a turn into the driveway of his house.  

Eunbyeol now reciprocates her twin, looking at her dad as she slouches beside him, coming near the front seat area. 

“She’s got a point dad. Do you really just not love mom anymore?” She worries, looking up at him genuinely concerned. 

Hongjoong doesn’t know how to answer these sudden questions right now, stuttering to reply.

“Me and your mother are fine!” He lies, trying to reassure them. “That trip wasn’t just for us, it was also for you two to enjoy— ”

Eunseo asks the million dollar question. 

“If you still love Mom, why are you letting her go a second time?” 

With the engine turned off, it's gone silent. Two pairs of eyes staring at their father, awaiting his response. 

“Well? Are you going to chase after her or not?!” Eunbyeol groans, her fathers lack of response making her pull her hair. 

They were right. How could he have made the same stupid mistake twice?

Hongjoong struggles to put the keys back in the engine, telling them to put their seat belts back on. Their eyes begin to glow with hope.

“Do you girls mind staying at your uncle’s for a bit?” He asks hurriedly, punching into his cell phone to call his brother for a favor as he pulls out of the driveway. Eunbyeol squeals, hands clamping over her mouth as her sister speaks on behalf of them both. 

“Dad, if you don’t drop us off and get your butt over to mom’s right away, I’m gonna report you to child services.” she threatens, watching as he steps on the accelerator, heart pumping so fast as he smiles through the rear view mirror.

You sighed, holding up your cellphone to your ear. 

“Call me once she approves the design then,” you told your assistant through the receiver, one hand looking over the sheets of paper, highlighting the changes to the new blueprint. 

“Alright then, bye.” 

After hanging up the phone, you rubbed your temples, head pounding as you tucked the files back into the folder. 

The clock in your studio showed the hands about to reach seven pm. A few hours had already passed since coming back from your trip to the cottage, trying to forget everything by burying your focus into the new dress prints a client of yours requested, remodeling them after the original was rejected. 

Fingers worked away swiftly, comparing textiles and fabrics as you looked at the piles of papers and messy sticky notes in front of you. But yet the gears in your mind seemed to churn achingly slow, sighing as you repeatedly told yourself the same thing. 

Just focus on the dress, focus on the dress, focus on the dress.

Don’t think about him. 

The task is impossible. Your mind can’t help but slip back to what your relationship has become with Hongjoong, and what you were going to do now that those seven days were over. For so long you had deprived yourself from indulging in your love life, prioritizing taking care of Eunseo and Eunbyeol while juggling your job as a designer. Had you been doing it all wrong? 

Hongjoong’s words repeat in your head like a broken record player. 

I will always love you

Lies. That promise couldn’t be kept. Your divorce was a clear outcome of it. You and Hongjoong were two people not meant for one another. You were too different, all you would do is hurt one another, make life an unbearable living hell—

And yet you missed him. You missed Hongjoong so much. 

What was fucking keeping you from loving him? Was it your stubbornness? Was it really the fact that he didn’t chase after you? Or was it none of that and just your own self being stupid?

The front door of the studio opens, pulling you from your thoughts as you got back to the sketches. You called up from your desk as you worked quietly. 

“The studios closed for the- ”

Heavy breathing. The man who just walked in catches his breath from dashing out of his car and up the three flights of stairs, driving through almost an hour of traffic in pouring rain to be here in this moment with you.

“Hongjoong?”

He’s drenched, making a mess on the floor of the studio as the droplets fall softly one by one. 

Suddenly he's striding over to where you’re sitting in long steps before slamming his lips against yours. The kiss throws you off guard, the shock of his cold hands cradling your face makes you close the gap unknowingly. 

Linking your arms around his neck while kissing back passionately, you let your hands rest on his shoulders, pulling back for air as you panted heavily, catching your breaths and looking at each other with pure love and lust. 

“Why are you here?” you asked, feeling dumb because your heart already knew the answer. His hands wrap around your waist, desperate as if you would leave him again. 

But he’s just so fucking tired of that now. He just wants to love you now.

“I lost you once.” He breathes, eyes watering.

“I’m not going to lose you again”. 

Suddenly, everything that kept you from being with each other is thrown away. 

That hate, that fear, everything is gone because you realize you still needed each other. You’re still the same twenty year old couple standing in that dorm washroom, holding each other close and knowing it’ll be okay because at least you had each other. 

You grasp onto his damp shirt, pulling him down with such force that your lips meet again, taking charge as you finally allowed him to have you. 

“You’re a fucking idiot” you whined between kisses, curses escaping your lips when he softly bites the flesh of your neck to test the waters. “I hope you know that”

He agrees wholeheartedly, nodding as if he was already getting pussydrunk.

“I’m an idiot” he mumbles to himself, letting it escape his lips like a mantra. Well, he was stupid enough to only chase after you this late, so if his wife told him he was an idiot, then so he was.

“Let me prove how much I love you,” a hand comes to graze near the collar of your shirt. 

You gasped, watching as Hongjoong lifted you from your seat and rutted his hips against your core pathetically, your ass digging into the edge of the table.

“Here?” Your eyes widened, watching his expression turn dark. He presses kisses on your collarbone, making your hands grasp the wood for support. “Hongjoong wait,” you exhaled in a deep breath, heart beating against your chest.

But he doesn’t give a shit. He’s tired of waiting. 

“It’s been too fucking long” he protests, ripping your top off. You’re dizzy from how abruptly he’s stripping you, latching onto his shoulders for support as you wobble from him unzipping your jeans and pushing them down, exposing you in nothing but your underwear and bra. 

And like the good little whore you are, you immediately spread your legs, letting Hongjoong get a view of the embarrassingly wet patch leaking through your panties as he’s crouched down to let you step out of the denim near your ankles.

Holy fucking shit

You stand bashfully, toes curling from how exposed and vulnerable you were being the only one naked. 

“Please?” you asked nicely, letting your foot rest on his shoulder as your pussy was now on full display for him.

You don’t have time to even finish the last word before Hongjoong dives in, lapping at your soaking cunt and humming in pure ecstasy at the taste. The muffled vibrations make you throw your head back, tugging on his locks to shove his face further. 

Hongjoong’s hands press into your thighs that cage his head in, leaving a grip that you guarantee with littering the flesh with red splotchy bruises. Did you mind? Not at all.

When his tongue pokes at the gummy flesh of your walls, you let out a full moan, echoing throughout the studio as the air begins to smell like sex. 

“Right there, yes” you urged him, leg beginning to shake from how weak it was getting. 

He's so invested, you fear he might suffocate any longer if he doesn’t pull back for air. So you grasp his head, pushing him away from his meal while you both gasped lightly.

You watch him wipe his slick covered chin with the back of his hand, not breaking eye contact as he stares. 

“You were just begging to be fucked for all these years, weren’t you sweetheart?” He teases. 

Though you wanted him to lap at your juices until you came, you knew you needed to still feel his cock inside after so long. 

Your fingers played with the hem of your underwear, smiling back at your husband. 

“And you were just begging to get a taste of this pussy, weren’t you, Joong?” wiping that smug grin off his face.

”Lay down for me” he demands, getting up so that one hand finds its way to the back of your bra to unclasp it. The other clears half your desk covered in wedding dress blueprints and sketches, making sure nothing would make you uncomfortable before he fucked you on that mahogany surface so all you’d remember would be his name. 

And people said romance was dead. 

When the bra slides off and your bare back hits your desk, you suddenly realize what Hongjoong’s intention was when he ordered you to do that. 

Soft mounds spill out as your breasts take their natural form, giving Hongjoong the perfect view of your tits. Pervert. 

He immediately latches his tongue on a nipple, taking his hand and playing with the other, twisting painfully. 

A cry escapes your lips, parting them open as you let him play with them as much as he wanted to. He smiles against the motherfuckers, knowing that shut you up perfectly. 

“Are you ready for me to fuck you now?”

“Please, Joong, I need you” you whined, submitting yourself to your husband. He already knows you’re in need of one last kiss, coming up to give his wife what she wants by slotting his lips against yours again, this time much harsher. 

“Tell me so that I treat you good, baby” he mumbles, pulling back and making you clench your thighs together. He undoes his shirt in the meantime, unbuckling his belt and pressing a sweet kiss to your cheek when you sobbed. 

“Fuck me, please” 

His fingers slide your panties to the side to press his aching tip to your wet core. 

“Like this?” He teases.

“Inside, Hongjoong” you emphasized, meaning what you said with the way your nails dug into a pile of papers nearby. Biting your lip from how sensitive and needy your cunt was. 

“I know, I know,” he murmured, smiling to himself after messing with you. 

“I just missed this pretty cunt” before in one strong thrust, Hongjoong’s bulging tip enters inside your walls, giving you a stretch you forgot how much you loved. You whined softly. 

“Shit” he curses, relishing how the buildup finally led to this moment. 

The man is ravenous, but he’s genuinely trying his best to ease the painful stretch as you adjust to his thickness, nipping your neck in a trail of hickeys and love bites posessively.

With every thrust he makes, you arch your back, pencils and papers shuffling near by you. 

“Fucking look at my wife” he admires proudly, watching the woman he loves bounce her tits at every thrust of his cock. 

“S’too much” you caved in, shaking your head at the stimulation. 

You claw at his arms, head turning to the side as your eyes roll back from pleasure. 

“I know, mama, I know” 

He grabs a tit in his left hand, the right one coming down to play with your clit, pressing slow circles near where you were connected. 

“Fuck, I missed these” He rasps, savouring the feeling of your soft flesh in his hand, making you throw your head back. 

“Missed how they looked when you were pregnant” he says, thinking of how ethereal you looked when you were knocked up with his kids. 

“God, at this point I’m gonna get you fucking pregnant again” Hongjoong grunts, snapping his hips deliriously back and forth. He envisions you round and full, fulfilling his inner fantasy. 

“Shut up.” You spat, breaking the mood as you bit your lip to suppress a moan. He almost laughs when you then crane your hips back to give him easier access to keep penetrating you. The desk shuffles. 

“Your mouth is saying one thing, honey, but your body is saying something else” 

After hearing his words, you suck him in further, both of you now getting close. 

“M’close. M’so close!” you whimpered, sitting up so that now Hongjoong could hold you in his arms, caging your body so his cock could stuff you better. 

Your mouth hangs open in silent bliss, hands scratching his back. You leaned into his ear, making the final chord inside him snap. 

“Make me cum, daddy” 

And just like that, you’re clenching around Hongjoong’s massive cock as a creamy white ring begins to form. Hot ropes fill you up inside, tangled in a sweaty mess as he purrs, caressing the back of your head again in habit. 

“So fucking good, sweetheart. You did so good for me”

The sounds of your breathing fill the studio, a pencil or two rolling quietly away on the ground from being shoved off the desk. He shakes his head when you try to pull your sweaty bodies away, hair sticking to your neck but feeling the way he refuses. 

“Just let me love you,” he mumbles into your shoulder, dick softening inside you. “Just for a moment.”

You’re too tired to say anything back, so you finally give in. 

Seven years passed by you two without even realizing how much you still loved each other. Though you wouldn’t be able to get that time back, for once, there was something that you and Hongjoong agreed upon. 

You had no intention of wasting that time any more. 

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄:

Months later, and it still takes everything in Eunbyeol and Eunseo hearts to not scream at the sight of their parents when they walk hand in hand, smiling happily in public as they pick their daughters up from the first day of school. 

The girls jump into their parent’s embrace, eying the two silver rings they now wore proudly together. 

“How was school, darlings?” Hongjoong asks, pressing a kiss to Eunseo and Eunbyeol. 

“It was fun! We watched a documentary about lovebirds” she smiled, looking back up. You laughed softly.

“Which reminded me to tell you,” she grins, watching as you, her sister, and father all looked at her. 

“I hope you know that getting you and dad back together was my plan from the start.” she confesses, smirking at Eunbyeol who scoffs, crossing her arms. 

“Nuh uh, this was my idea first!” 

Before her sister could yell at her twin, you jumped in. 

“Plan? What plan?” You asked quizzically, both you and Hongjoong standing there confused.

“To get you guys to fall back in love again, of course!” Eunseo smiles, both her and her sister now giggling softly together.  

“How am I just finding out that there was a plan?” Hongjoong mutters, scratching his neck in confusion. You turned to the two girls, stopping in your tracks on your way to the car

“When did you two even think of all this?” grinning in astonishment as you felt Hongjoong slot his hand and intertwine it with yours. It felt natural now.

“Yeah, I'm curious too” he states, leaning close and becoming intrigued.

Your daughters look at each other before smiling. 

“It’s a long story.”

But at last, time is something you finally now have as a reunited family of four, walking back to your car, holding hands with a twin on each side.

Listening carefully, as your daughters start from the very beginning.

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[f1fantasys]

FUCK (literally and metaphorically)

Summary - exes who get back together, leading to A LOT of smut.

Warnings : Smut, swearing, minors DNI, fingering, p in v sex, anal, oral sex - both male and female receiving.

4.8 K

You and Lando had been dating on and off few about 2 years now. It started off as friends with benefits - neither of you were able to put in the time and effort for a relationship because of his f1 and your modeling career - so it was just hook ups for a quick fuck whenever you were free and in the same country. Obviously though, feelings were soon coming in strong for the both of you, so you became official for a bit, until it was becoming too difficult, so you mutually broke it off. Until you found your way into each others beds more often then not. So it really was like a game of running around in circles.

You had last seen Lando 2 months ago, before he jetted to Asia and USA for his races, where you 'broke up' again. You'd told him that that was the last time, and that you both seriously needed to move on from each other. It was hard, you wont lie - the both of you full of emotions and not wanting to let go - but it was also for the best. Your careers were too demanding.

Last night though - he texted you.

In town for a bit, staying at the lake house with my parents for the weekend. Wanna come over tomorrow night? They'll be out.

Lan.. you started replying but he was quick to send another text.

I know what we said last time, but I really need to fucking see you

Okay, what time?

Say 10? Bring swim clothes

You just reacted to his message with a heart.

You were a mess today. Why were you so nervous to see him?

Maybe because you didn't want to walk away? Didn't want to have to leave him again?

You wore a skimpy red bikini and threw on a pair of denim shorts and tank top. The drive to the lake house was not far from yours - so you got there in good time.

You grabbed your bag and made your way to the door. Holding in a breath and you knocked.

''It's open'' you heard him say.

You pushed the door open and there he was. Standing in the kitchen in nothing but his swim shorts, opening a bottle of wine, sending you his deliciously handsome smile.

''There she is'' he said, putting the wine down and coming up to you before pulling you in for a tight hug.

You responded immediately to his touch. It instantly calmed you down and took the nerves away. This was your Lando - how could you be nervous about him, you thought to yourself.

''Hey Lan'' you breathed out.

He pulled back and looked at you, eye wandering between your own eyes and your lips.

But he couldn't hold back anymore. He crashed his lips to yours as he picked you up by your thighs and set you on the counter. His lips were sloppy and messy against yours, which had you moaning into the kiss. Lando took this as an opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. You ran your hands along his bare back as he lowered his lips to your neck, sucking and biting at your sweet spot.

''Lan'' you panted.

''Missed you so fucking much this time'' he whispered, slowly peeling your top of of you.

''I missed you too'' you couldn't help but mutter between breathes.

''Fuck'' he said before pulling back. He must have seen the worried look so he quickly smirked at you. ''The nights' gonna end here and now if we carry on. Wine?''

You smiled back. ''Please''

He poured you both a glass before you went to sit outside. It was sort of chilly, so he had a fire going as well as the hot tub bubbling away.

''In or out?'' he asked, pointing at the hot tub.

''Hmmm, out for now'' you said.

You both took a seat and gazed up at the sky, just listening to nature, and happy to be in each others' presence.

''Soooo'' he started. ''How have you been. We actually didn't even catch up this time.''

''I know. But I've been good. I guess. Busy. Work's great.'' you looked at him as you continued- ''Missed you though. Been miserable without you''

Without any hesitation he pulled your chair close to his and interlocked your hands together.

''I've been thinking..'' he paused for a few seconds. ''About us. I hate being away from you. Not being able to text and call whenever i want. Not being able to kiss you when i want. I want to put in the effort to make us work. I want all of you, y/n''

You gasped at his admission. A bittersweet feeling washing over you. He was saying everything you've wanted him to say. But is it worth the risk? Getting back together, for real, and then having the risk of heart break when things don't work out.

Lando bought your hand up to his mouth and kissed your knuckles when you didn't respond straight away. But something in the way he was looking at your tonight made you feel like maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. That there would be no heartbreak. You held on to that piece of hope.

''I want all of you too Lan. I want us to work, more than anything'' you pleaded back to him.

He smiled and pulled your whole body onto his lap, kissing you hard and deep. ''Just need to communicate, yeah?'' you nodded in response. ''And be honest with each other'' you added.

''Hmm mm'' he said, kissing you again. This time slow and sensual, still deep enough to make you see stars.

''You're mine forever, y/n. Never forget that'' he whispered.

''All yours Lan, always'' you said, peeling your top off for the second time tonight.

Lando gently stood up, lifting you with him, before stepping into the hot tub, lowering you down back on his lap, all the while his lips never left yours.

Things quickly turned heated, physically and metaphorically. The hot tub was steaming, already breaking a sweat on your faces. And your actions - well anytime the two of you were joined together, it was hot.

Lando's kisses became erratic, desperate. He was kissing, sucking, nipping, soothing every inch of your face and neck while all you could do was moan and pull on his hair, edging him on to give you more.

Your skimpy red bikini top was soon untied and ripped off of you, revealing your perky boobs and taunt, pink, hard nipples. You didn't miss how Lando's eyes turned a shade darker.

He lowered his mouth and began his onslaught on them. Sucking and biting at them relentlessly, over stimulating you.

''Lan, oh my god, slow down'' you panted, pulling harder at his hair so he'd get the hint. But of course he didn't. He was for sure leaving purple bruises for tomorrow, not showing any mercy.

He finally pulled back for air, but that didn't stop his fingers from sliding into your bikini bottoms to cup your sex. The movement had you jolting. He was the last person - besides yourself - to touch you there, and that was over two months ago. So to finally feel what-or who-you've craved so much of, sent your spiraling and reacting instantly.

He spoke with a teasing tone. '''Fuck, y/n. Already this wet. For me?'' he asked smirking at you, gliding his fingers through your folds.

''Fuck you Lan'' you teased back.

''Baby. You're gonna fuck me. My fingers. Now.'' he said, lining two finger up at your entrance, not pushing in yet though. You gave him a confused look when he stopped. But just chuckled. ''Fuck my fingers, y/n''

Something clicked in you and you finally got the hint. You quickly lowered your self on his fingers. The stretch burning you, but nearly not enough to what you craved.

''That's it. So tight and slick for me'' Lando said as he pulled your face down to lock lips once again.

You set a brutal pace, chasing the high that you needed, while Lando added a third finger to the mix, also finding your clit with his thumb.

''Lando, I'm close'' you moaned into the kiss. He didn't reply verbally though. He just curled his fingers at just the right moment, rubbing them against the spongy spot in your cunt, which sent you trembling over the edge.

Your orgasm left you body hard and fast, shaking while Lando held you in his arms, slowing his fingers, riding you through the intensity. You groaned his name, squeezing his biceps as you let your juices release on his fingers.

The two of your just embraced each other for a few minutes, before Lando carefully slid his fingers out of you and lifted you out the water to sit on the ledge with just your legs staying in the water.

The cool air of the night hardened your nipples and raised goosebumps on your skin as Lando pushed you back to lie down, as he stepped in between your legs and spread them apart.

He took your bikini bottoms off and threw them to the side. Now your cunt was on full display. He reached forward and licked the cum that was still dripping out of you. The feeling of his tongue sent a jolt of electricity through your body, making you latch onto his hair again.

''Hmm Lan, more. Please'' you begged.

His slow pace was soon replaced with a series of ferocious licks and sucks, his mouth lapping at your cunt as if he were starved - which he would argue he is.

''So fucking delicious babygirl, missed my favorite taste'' he murmured before continuing his activity.

You opened your legs further, giving him better access. He added a finger to play as well, and within minutes you felt that all too familiar warmth start to build up in your stomach. All it took was one bite of your clit between Lando's teeth and you violently came all over his face.

''Fuck y/n, that was a load full. So fucking sexy'' he commented, making sure to swallow all that you gushed his face with.

He sat back down and pulled your jelly-like body onto his lap again. The warm waster soothing your aching pussy that was still throbbing.

Lando took your face in his hands and peppered you with feather like kisses. His finger stopped at your mouth and you took it in without hesitation. Suck at it, eyes not leaving his.

You suddenly whined, an urge to taste him over coming you.

''Lan, need to taste you. Please'' you said, already climbing off him and pulling his shorts off underwater.

But he stopped you. ''Later. First need to fill you up. Need to feel you around me. Please y/n.''

Your brain short circuited as soon as the words left his mouth. As you forgot how much you wanted needed him in you.

You were quick to climb onto his lap again, this time his dick was rubbing against your inner thigh, feeling hard and hot.

You took him in your hands, pumping him a few times as he moaned your name.

''Oh y/n. Fuck.''

You giggled at him. You'd hardly touched him and he was putty in your hands, pulling at your hair now.

''Laugh at me again and I won't let you cum'' he said, very matter of factly, though his smirk told you a different story.

''Oh yeah?'' you teased, lifting yourself up slightly and running his cock through your folds.

''Babygirl you'll be the death of me''

''Hmmm mm'' you mumbled, already distracted by feeling him on your most sensitive parts.

Lando took your face in his hands again. He kissed you, his tongue sliding back in and then sucking harshly on your tongue. ''Gonna ride me yeah? Fuck me til you're screaming my name?''

''Lan'' you breathed. Your cunt clenching desperately, needling to feel him now.

He took his dick out of your hands and lined himself up at your entrance.

In one swift movement you sank down on him. He filled you up to the brim. You sat still, allowing your body to accept the intrusion, the stretch was sore, but in seconds the pleasure over came you and you began to move.

Lando's hands settled at your waist, his touch light, as he let you set the pace. Your hands found his hair again, pulling at it as you rode him.

''So fuckin tight for me angel. That's it baby, fuck me harder'' he mumbled between breaths.

By now all coherent thoughts had left your mind. All you could do was moan his name, chant it through gritted teeth, as your movements became faster and faster.

You don't think you'd ever ridden him - or anyone - this hard before. Your pace was brutal. You could feel him hitting just the right spots inside of you, and the water of the hot tub was splashing all over.

''Lan'' you moaned again, guiding his head to your boobs to let him suck softly on your nipples.

You were both so caught up getting lost in each other's bodies that you didn't hear the front door open and close, voices from inside the house muttering away.

That was until you heard Lando's mum speak.

''Lando? Are you outside honey?'' she called.

You both stopped in your tracks, movements coming to a halt.

You were so fucked out to react - to separate away from him, so you just sat still, his dick inside of you.

''Fuck'' he muttered.

''Yeah mum, but I'm good. Go to bed'' he yelled back.

But of course, Cisca, oblivious to what was going on, had to come outside.

''Lan -'' She started but gasped when she saw you - your back to her.

You just hid your face in his neck, not sure you could even get a word out while still feeling him twitch in your cunt.

He let out a nervous chuckle. ''Mum'' he said, smiling at her.

She was dumbstruck, confused? You didn't know.

''It's just y/n, mum'' he said, trying to detactch yourselves but failing to do so.

''Y/n, good to see you. Uh, I'm gonna go inside. I'll see you later'' she said, as something must have clicked in her.

You heard the sliding door close and let out a breath of relief, looking back at the house, then back at Lando.

''Fuck me'' he said, eyes still watching his parents inside, who he could see were desperately trying to busy themselves and go upstairs.

''I kinda was until... how the fuck am I gonna face your parents now'' you pondered, slightly turned off at thinking about it.

''I don't know. We'll deal with it later. For now I need to feel you around me again'' he said, pulling out and pumping himself a few times.

Once he saw the lights downstairs were turned off and no Norris' were in sight, he man handled your body to bend over the sides of the hot tub.

Oh boy you thought to yourself, he's not gonna let you off easily now.

''Anal, yeah?'' he asked just as he lined his tip up with your hole.

All you could do was nod your head. It was new for the two of you, but it was something you only did a few times. You pushed your ass slightly in the air.

And he did. He slammed into you, causing you to let out a guttural moan. He was quick to cover your mouth with his one hand, while the other pulled at your hair.

''Have to be quiet, unless you want an audience'' Lando said through gritted teeth.

You didn't. So you muffled your moans into his hand.

He fucking into you so hard, with so much force, you weren't sure you would be able to walk after. But you didn't care. It felt amazing. He felt fucking amazing.

Not 5 minutes later and you whined. ''Need to come Lan, not gonna last long'' and before you could even finish your sentence, you gushed all over his cock. Your walls clenched around him, throbbed around him.

''Jesus, fuck, y/n, so tight''

You'd think he'd slow his movements and ride you through your orgasm, but this was Lando Norris. Of course he continued to fuck into you with no mercy.

You were sure you would black out if he didn't slow down soon. ''Lan, too much'' you mumbled.

He suddenly pulled out of you and turned out body around so you could took at each other.

''Want me to stop?'' he asked, smirking.

And fuck no, you did not want him to stop. The way your pussy was clenching around nothing sent your body into overdrive. You needed to feel him fill you up again.

You didn't want to give him the satisfaction, so you bit your lip and he couldn't help but laugh at your antics.

''Thought so'' he said, before thrusting back into your normal entrance, very quickly setting a pace that had you seeing stars, while his hands settled on your boobs and fondled with them.

''Lan'' you whined again.

''Doing so good for me princess. So fucking good. Taking me to well.''

You could feel Lando's girth twitching inside of you, his movements getting sloppier by the second.

''Fuck, so close y/n. Together, yeah babygirl?'' he asked.

You nodded again, unable to form any words. He bought his hand up to wipe at the tears that were leaving your eyes.

''Almost there my love. Keep going'' he encouraged you.

''Lan I'm - '' but you were cut off by Lando pinching you clit, your orgasm washing over you which had your body jittering and shaking once again, unable to control yourself. And just at the same time you felt him shoot ropes and ropes of hot cum deep within you. His own body shuddering and whines and moans leaving his mouth.

He pulled your body back into the water to settle above him, dick still inside you, softening quickly.

You slumped forward on him, and he rested his arms on the back of the hot tub, both gasping for air, a thick sheet of sweat plastered on both your faces.

''Fucking hell. That was incredible y/n.'' he said he lifted your head to look at you. His eyes were still shades darker than usual.

You still couldn't form any words, so you smiled sheepishly at him.

''I love you'' he whispered.

Now all the air had left your lungs. It wasn't the first time he'd said it, but something about the way he said it now had reignited all the butterflies in your tummy.

You tears had now returned, so he gently kissed them away before settling his lips on yours, kissing you softly.

''I love you too'' you whispered back, in between kisses.

''Let's get cleaned up yeah? Cuddles after?'' he asked, knowing what your answer would be. It was always cuddles after sex, no matter what.

Lando carried you out he water and made a beeline for his room upstairs, hoping everyone was asleep, since you were both butt naked.

Lando placed you on his bed and disappeared into the bathroom, leaving you whining for him.

''Baby I'm back just went to get a warm cloth. He spread your legs apart, fully intending you just clean you up, but his brain nearly short circuited when he saw cum still leaking out of you - more so at the thought of his cum leaking out of you.

He bent down and as gently as he could- because he knew you were over stimulated- he licked a strip up your cunt, collecting as much cum as he could.

You gasped and jumped at the feeling, not expecting it at all.

''Lando! - '' but before you could even continue talking his hand hallowed your cheeks to pry your mouth open and the cheeky bastard let his cum drip from his own mouth down into yours.

You moaned, making sure to swallow every last drop, before he reached down and interlocked your lips once again.

''Dirty'' you chuckled, in between kisses.

''Hmm. Couldn't help it'' he mumbled, and after a while, he did eventually clean you up and spoon you from behind, the both of you drifting into an easy slumber.

You woke to the sun blazing on your body, strring sightly, forgetting where you were until you felt someone pull you closer.

Then it dawned on you - you were with Lando, and apparently back together with him, for real this time?

You could hear his soft snored so you gently turned your body to face his.

He looked angelic. Face contorted in a deep sleep still, mouth slightly agape, blowing cool air onto your own face.

Although you didn't want to wake him, you couldn't help but place a soft kiss on his lips.

You stayed staring at him, admiring him, for god knows how long, until he starting speaking, making you jolt at being caught.

''You're staring'' he mumbled.

''I'm gazing'' you cooed back.

''It's creepy''

''It's romantic''

Lando's eyes flew open and he immediately started tickling you all over.

''Lando! Stop!'' you shrieked.

''Romantic, huh? That's not how you rode me last night'' he smirked, settling his weight on top of you.

''Fuck you'' you mumbled, pulling him by his hair to connect your lips.

''Wrong. You want me to fuck you again, don't you?'' he asked, a knowing smile on his face.

You couldn't help but blush at his words, because, of course you wanted to fuck again.

But first, you wanted something else.

You pushed Lando back to lie on his back and threw your legs over him so you were now sitting on his stomach.

You very quickly noticed the slick dripping out of you. ''Someone's already so wet for me'' he firmly said.

''Shut up'' you replied, as you leaned down to kiss him again, rough and hard this time. You tongue slipping into his mouth for once, earning the sexiest moans from him.

You sucked on his bottom lip for some time until you felt his dick against your ass. Standing angry and tall, hard as rock.

You slid your hand back to pump him while you continued to kiss him, eventually bringing your lips to his neck to leave a few marks for him.

He started twitching in your hand, letting out more moans and a ''fuck, y/n, please'' bit of begging from him.

You made your way down to his nipples, sucking on each of them, biting them, then soothing them with your tongue, all the while you eyes remained locked on his.

Finally though, you slid down enough to see his cock standing in front of your eyes.

He already had pre-cum leaking from the slit, and the thick vein on the underside was protruding dramatically.

''Someones eager'' you threw his words back at him.

''Uh fuck please, please do something'' he begged again.

So you did. You put the tip of his cock in your mouth and sucked at it, hard, swallowing the salty pre-cum.

He hissed at the action. Hips bucking up unable to control himself.

Lando gathered all your hair and held it out of your face as you pushed his cock deeper into your mouth, deep throating him, instantly feeling him hit the back of your throat.

You pulled back for air, a string of spit still connecting your lips to his dick, so he couldn't help but pull you up for a quick kiss.

You pulled away quickly though, eagerly wanting to taste him.

He relaxed back and still help you hair with one hand, while his other rested behind his head.

Every few seconds he buck his hips up to go deeper inside of your mouth, causing you to gag and spring a few tears at the corners of your eyes.

''You're so fucking good at this baby. Best head ever.'' he managed between breaths.

Al you could do was hum at him. Soon his movements started to get sloppy and you could feel his dick twitching again. You knew he was close - so you did the one thing you knew would send him over the edge.

You sucked, hard on his tip again, and in no time he shot sheets of milky white cum down your throat, body shuddering. Listening to his moans had your pussy clenching around nothing, so you squeezed your thighs together as your rode him through his orgasm.

Eventually you pulled back. Your face was a mess. Tears stringing down your cheeks, slightly black with your eyeliner from last night, chin and chest slick with a mixture of sweat, spit and cum.

You breathlessly sat on his stomach again, but he quickly pushed you lower down so he could sit against the headboard and pull you closer.

Lando then began a serious of harsh licks off over your face and chin, chest as well, basically cleaning you up.

As he was doing that, you started to grind yourself against his thigh.

You were so wet already so you easily slid against him. rewarding him with harsh moans and grunts.

Once he 'cleaned you up'', Lando latched his mouth to your perky boobs again. You squirmed at the sensitivity until he started talking again.

''Baby, wanna fuck me again like last night? Ride me again? But this time no interruptions, yeah?''

His words had you dripping even more now. Your mind not being able to form any words. So you simply lifted your self up and lined his dick at your entrance. Then you sat. In one swift movement you sat down on him.

You didn't even give yourself any time to adjust. You very very quickly set a fast pace. Faster than last night if you could. You held his shoulders and gave him everything in you. Swift, quick movements of up and down.

''Oh Lan, yes. Feels so good;'' you mumbled, eyes rolling to back of your head.

''Shit'' he spat back, also not able to form any coherent thoughts. Just you riding him as if your life depended on it.

Within minutes your body was shaking violently as your orgasm ripped through your body. Your moans were uncontrollable, and anyone im the room next door would definitely be able to hear you, but you didn't care. You couldn't even move, so Lando had to chase his own orgasm but jerking his hips up to meet yours, fucking you relentlessly.

''Fuck y/n, fuck. So good. So fuckin tight for me. Gonna fill you up now. Maybe fuck a baby into you, yeah? You want that?'' he asked, not fully releasing what he was saying. Not that you did either, but you reply to him was quick. ''Please Lan, use me was your whore. Give me a baby, fuck. Please fuck'' you said through gritted teeth.

Hearing you call yourself his whore, Lando immediately came inside of you. White cum painting your walls endlessly. His whole body shaking underneath yours.

You both stilled for a few minutes. Letting your breathing come down to normal (if it even could?), just basking in each others sweat and breath.

''Fuck me y/n'' Lando breathed out after a while.

You couldn't help but giggle.

''I just fucked you Lan, already want more?'' you teased.

''You're gonna fucking end me'' he said, pulling you in for a gentle kiss as you played with his curls.

You could feel his dick softening inside you, but as he tried to pull out you stopped him.

You made a shocked face. ''Lan. If you want that baby you'll have to push your cum further into me. Not pull out'' you said smirking.

His expression was priceless but so fucking cute you had to laugh at him.

''I-I'' you started but you cut him off.

''Lan relax, I'm joking. I do, definitely want a baby from you, one day. But for now, I'm on birth control..so we should be okay..I hope'' you said slowly, knowing it wasn't always 100% effective.

But you both just got into a fit of giggles thinking about what you said to each other in that moment.

Just as he started kissing you again, someone knocked on the other side of the wall.

''Hey lovebirds. Thank you so much for the wake-up call. I appreciate it. Oh and how was the hot tub last night?''

It was Flo, Lando's sister.

You both froze at her statement, faces going red and although you shouldn't be, shocked that she probably heard every single thing from this morning.

''Ummm heey Flo'' you chuckled nervously.

Authors note - hope you all enjoyed this. Maybe the most smut I've written? I think so. But I had fun. ALSO - did anyone peep the vampire diaries ref in there?

REQUESTS ARE OPEN.

[gabgabwrites]

LOVE AND ACES | Art Donaldson

Summary ⇝ Art is mesmerised by your skill, and when you and Tashi agree to spend time with him and Patrick at their room, things get heated, to the point where he’s utterly infatuated by you.

Warnings ⇝ mentions of slight tashi x reader x patrick, swearing, drinking, smoking, kissing, smut! p in v, unprotected sex, oral (f), handjob, early orgasm, orgasm in clothing, cum eating, mentions of foursome, fingering, hair pulling, praise—ART IS A SCHLUT FOR PRAISES.

read part 2 here

"No, don't even worry about it girl, you beat me fair and square," Tashi Duncan said to you, tight lipped smile. You had recently qualified for the finals of the your schools tennis tournament.  You remember how the ball managed to skim her racquet making you the winner. You knew she was happy for you but you also knew how important tennis is to her.

"I know how much this meant to you though," You sigh. The two of you were currently in her dorm room, sitting crossed legged and facing each other.

Tashi let out a soft exhale before meeting your gaze, the pain evident across her face. She pushed a smile onto her features, "Yeah... It did," she began, her words slow as if choosing each one with care. "But hey," Tashi reached out, gently grabbing your hand. "I'm happy you won," she said genuinely.

"Thank you, Tash," You grab her slender hand ad give it a gentle squeeze before letting it fall back to its place.

"I mean it," she said, her words soft as she gave your hand a gentle squeeze. The two of you had spent countless hours practicing together, supporting each other through both wins and losses.

"Yeah, welp I better go and get rest. Game is tomorrow," You pat your lap, swinging your legs to your side to stand up from her bed.

Tashi watched as you got up from the bed, her eyes studying you closely. There was a hint of disappointment in her expression, but it vanished quickly as she smiled. "Alright, sleep tight," she said, her voice neutral.

"You too, and also, you're coming to watch, right?"

Tashi chuckled, her expression lightening, "Of course I am, wouldn't miss it for the world," she assured you, a smile forming on her face. "You better bring your A game," she teased, a small smirk on her face. Her words were light, but you could tell there was still a hint of upset lingering in her eyes.

"You got it boss," You look at her once more before leaving her dorm. You gently shut the door behind you before walking down the passage to your room.

You opened the door, immediately going to your bed and flopping on it. You didn't bother changing from your hoodie and cotton shorts before drifting to sleep.

The sun intruded your curtains before anything else did. You stirred from your sleep before hazily getting up. You brushed your teeth and hair, got dressed in your tennis uniform, grabbed everything you needed before making your way down to the tennis court.

No matter how well you did, you always got nervous. Tashi made sure to tell you that every time you played a match. You loved the girl but sometimes all she did was point out flaws that perhaps were not of your interest.

The hairband in your hair suddenly felt too tight, and your shoelaces were tied too tightly, the racquet in its sling felt too heavy on your arm and your palms too sweaty.

It wasn't like this was your first time ever playing, yet it felt like it was. You didn't know what you were more scared of. Losing and not qualifying for the cup, or disappointing Tashi.

Tashi arrived early, of course she did, finding a good seat to watch the match from.

The grandstands filled with people, Tashi could feel her heart beating faster, her fingers tapping anxiously against her thigh. She had already gone over every possible outcome in her head; you break a bone or twist an ankle; you miss one too many balls; or worse.

"I cannot believe it, dude. I mean, I for sure thought it would be Tashi Duncan playing, but not her!" Tashi overhears some loud voice mention her and your names, she has the urge to turn to look but ignores it. "She's in another league, she's beautiful!"

"And now entering the court, the girls singles world number 1 and winner of the Junior French Open..." The commentator says your name and majority of the crowd blister in cheers.

Tashi sees the way you smile too big to hide your nerves as you step onto the court, waving at the crowd, eyes immediately looking for her. When you do make eye contact, she sees your shoulders relax a little.

Art has heard Patrick pine and want Tashi, but he's heard him rant and rave about you, last night he would not shut up about how you beat Tashi by the skin of your teeth.

You took a sip from your bottle as you set it down on the floor next to the chair, slinging your racquet off and unzipping it.

You stuck out a leg and did last minute stretching, allowing for your muscles to ease and thankfully, your nerves dissipating.

Then the match began and you were all over the court. Your shots were precise, your movement nimble, and your concentration unwavering. Your Russian opponent, Irina Petrovska , couldn't quite keep up, struggling to return each of your powerful serves and shots.

Shared grunts emitted from the both of you, your shoes squeezing against the tar. Sweat dribbling down your temples.

Art and Patrick sat watching, their jaws practically on the floor. The ease in which you were demolishing Petrovska was incredible. They tried to come up with words to describe your performance but found themselves at a loss.

One second you were in the farthest corner on the baseline and the next, soaring through the air as the ball slammed from your racquet, you positioned a meter above the service line.

Tashi sat there, watching every move you made on the court with a mixture of awe and apprehension. Your game was flawless and it was clear that you were dominating the match.

Minutes ticked by, a short interlude and then it continued. Everyone was on the edge of their seat. With one last toss up of the ball, you won an ace, and victory was yours.

Pride swelled in your chest as you were looking at Tashi who gave you a smile and clapped. You did it, securing another win in your name. Petrovska has an absolute meltdown, cursing at herself in Russian, smashing her racquet to the ground.

Tashi made sure you had a small party to celebrate your win. Your family was there, the people who watched the game, other friends and your fans. It was nighttime, supposed to be cold but the twinkling fairy lights managed to emit the tiniest bit of warmth, the alcohol in your system definitely helped as you and Tashi danced to Nelly.

You tap Tashi on the shoulder. "I'm thirsty, come with me?" You asked, she simply nodded as she followed you to the table, both of you grabbing your drinks.

"Come, let's sit down over there," She points to some loungers off by a wall where it's more quiet. "Just want to get away from all the busy."

You follow suit before plonking yourself on the one to the left. "Ugh, my feet hurt," You complain, Tashi nodding next to you. You let your eyes momentarily flutter closed before voices interrupt.

"I'm Patrick Zweig—."

"Art Donaldson."

You open your eyes to see two males dressed in jeans and pale coloured button ups. One has curly black hair and the other, slightly longer blonde hair. Both of their eyes flitting between you and Tashi.

Tashi is the first to speak. "I know who you are, you're fire and ice, right?"

You let out a giggle through your nose, drawing both their attentions. The blonde one flushed as pink as his shirt while the one with the black hair grinned. "Hm, so which ones which?"

"Isn't it obvious?" The darker haired one winked.

"You were fucking incredible today," The other male spoke, looking straight at you. "I mean, it wasn't even tennis, it was something entirely different."

"Thank you," You give him a smile which he mirrored.

"I felt bad for Ilina."

"Don't be, she's a sore loser," You scoffed, taking a sip from your drink.

"And a racist bitch, she's constantly say bad things under her breath in Russian at half time," Tashi said. "Hey, you're going to Stanford, right?" Tashi asked the blonde who looked slightly surprised at her question.

"Uh yeah, how'd you know that?" He questioned.

"I just accepted their offer and they mentioned you," Tashi replied.

"You're not going pro? You're going to a college?" The one with the dark hair asked.

"Yeah, we both are," Tashi jabbed a thumb in your direction and you nodded.

"Yup, I mean I still wanna keep up my education and not flunk only to be sleeping in my car after school," you chuckled.

"Girls! Come to the trophy stand, I want to take pics of the both of you!" Your mother ushered with a big smile, holding up her well expired phone. "And the photographers want some of my baby as well!"

"Right, coming mom!" You yell, "C'mon," you motion for Tashi to follow.

"Let's go," She turns to the two boys. "Gotta go..."

"Yeah, bye!" You wave one last time before disappearing into the crowd of people. The two boys watched as you and Tashi plastered on massive smiles in front of the pristine trophy you won as a photographer snapped photos.

During which, you had learnt that Patrick was the one with the black hair and Art was the one with the blonde hair when you asked Tashi who was who.

Your cheeks ached and your eyes burned when the camera was going off, a multitude of people standing next to you at different times. You even stood next to Tashi while either of your families stood around you two.

"You ready to leave?" Tashi asked, her thumb flicking off some dried mascara that had fallen from your lashes and onto your cheek while you thanked her.

"Absolutely," She tugged on your wrist towards the pathway between the bushes, having both to stop and say your last goodbyes to everyone.

It was quieter as the two of you walked before voices cut through the silence. "Hey!" You looked up to where the voice came from to see Art and Patrick, lounging by some benches in a tucked away corner.

"Guess we should see what they want," Tashi mumbled.

Getting closer, you noticed the two of them smoking cigarettes, both immediately standing up when you and Tashi approached. The smell of tobacco hung in the air, mingling with the cool evening breeze. "Hi," you greeted them, your voice breaking the silence. Patrick glanced at you, then quickly turned his gaze to Tashi, a flicker of recognition in his eyes. "Don't you guys have a final tomorrow?" you asked, genuinely curious about their casual demeanor.

"It's just juniors, so nothing to worry about," Patrick confirmed, his tone dismissive. He looked bashful as he stared at your best friend, his cheeks reddening slightly under her gaze. It was clear he was more interested in her than in any exam.

You nodded, trying to keep the conversation light. "Okay, well um, it's cool how you two stayed," you said with a smile, feeling a bit awkward.

"Do you two smoke?" Patrick asked, his own cigarette bouncing against his bottom lip when he spoke, drawing your attention briefly there.

"No," Tashi replied faster than you did, shaking her head vehemently. Her long hair swayed gently as she did, catching the fading light of the day.

You nodded in agreement. "Yeah, no, we don't smoke," you said, watching as Patrick slipped the cigarettes back into his pocket.

Patrick nodded while Art sucked on his cigarette. "Do you guys wanna go to the beach?"

You agreed and Tashi did once you did, and so now the four of you were walking to the hill that was actually above the beach, you sat on a rock while Tashi sat on a discarded tree stump, the boys sitting on chairs.

Tashi spoke about tennis— she always spoke about tennis, you sat and listened to her getting appraisal, you got complimented on your game and your skills, but you just smiled in response where as Tashi would talk about how tennis was like a relationship.

You weren't really paying much attention, instead choosing to look over your shoulder at the glistening waves of the ocean, reflecting the moon's edge. The rhythmic sound of the waves was almost hypnotic, drawing you into a tranquil state.

"And you?" Your name was called, snapping your attention away from nature. You turned to find the blonde staring at you intently, a curious look in his eyes.

"Huh?" you responded, a bit startled and disoriented from being pulled out of your reverie. The question hung in the air, and you realized you had missed something important in the conversation.

"Tashi was explaining what tennis is to her, so I asked you what tennis is to you," He continued, finishing off his cigarette.

"Oh, uh, a sport I guess," You shrugged. "It's great and all but..." Tennis wasn't your first choice, nor your second, yet the weight of your future was not dependent on your hands. It was on your father's, and after he saw what Tashi could do and the success that lies in the sport, you were ripped away from your passion and plonked in the middle of the court. It wasn't that you didn't like tennis, you just didn't love it.

"What?!" Patrick's eyes bulged out his head as he sat up. "Just a sport?! Surely you're joking?"

You shook your head earning a scoff from him. Tashi went quiet, looking at her lap. A gentle smile on her face, somehow gif answer struck a little bit of shame in her.

"Hey, um, I think I should go. My dad's probably gonna come looking for me," Tashi spoke, standing up from her seat.

"Oh yeah, hold up. I'll walk you to yours," you said, also standing and dusting the back of your pants, trying to brush off any dirt that might have clung to you. You glanced back at the ocean one last time, the waves still shimmering under the moonlight.

"You have Facebook?"

"What?"

Art tilted his head towards Patrick. "He's asking for your numbers, and so am I."

"Not a home-wrecker," you muttered under your breath, your eyes darting between the two of them. Patrick shook his head at your response with a small smile.

"We don't live together, so it's barely a home," Art nodded at his words, agreeing.

"Yeah, and Patrick has a girlfriend," At this response your eyebrows raised, Patrick's expression fell.

"It's barely a relationship," He excused.

"Sure. They put you two in the hotel in Flushing, right?" Tashi asked them with her arms draped across her chest, shielding her from the chilly night air.

"Room 206."

You let out a short giggle through your nose, softly nudging Tashi with your elbow. "They want you to go tuck them in."

"Not just her, and no, we wanna keep talking..." Art cocked his head, blonde locks falling over his brown as he did as such. "...about tennis."

"Okay," you shook your head, urging Tashi to continue walking. She thankfully did.

"We have beer!" you heard one yell after the two of you, making you laugh. You glanced back over your shoulder with a playful smirk, catching a glimpse of their hopeful faces before they were both covered by the thick bushy arch-way.

You were always in Tashi's dorm, the two of you out of your dresses and into something more comfortable. You chose black cotton shorts and a white Nike hoodie. "I think it'll be fun, don't you?" She asked as she sprayed some deodorant over herself.

"Yeah,but they also seem like two die hard virgins," You snickered. "But shame, they were sweet," Your chin was nestled in the palm of your hand as you silently watched her.

"Or maybe they're secretly sex gods," Tashi shrieked when you threw a pillow in her direction, laughter bubbling from her lips. "What? I'm just saying! The blonde one was totally into you!"

"We had minimal conversation," you playfully rolled your eyes, getting up from the bed as Tashi made her way to the door.

"Yeah, but you didn't see the way he was looking at you when you weren’t looking," She said in a sing-song voice, opening the door and shutting it behind you, the two of you walking down the passage together.

"Okay, sure Tashi."

"Do you think they're actually coming?" Art, who was laying on his back on the bed, asked. Legs leaning against the wall as a cigarette dangled from his lips, tossing a ball up and down.

"They might," Patrick groaned when the AC didn't work, even after he had banged on it multiple times.

"Dude, you made it sound like we wanted to fuck them in here."

"...we do."

"And if they do, then what's your plan?"

"We each have one, or worse, they both have one, while the other sits in the bathroom."

"Just face it, they're not coming," and then, there was a knock on the door, both boys went stock still and rigid, a second knock brought them out of their shock before they were hurriedly stumping out their cigarettes and throwing on shirts.  The door before you ripped open, revealing the two who looked out of breath and flushed. "Hey."

"Hi."

So now the four of you ended up sitting on the floor, sporting one beer can between you all, and a deck of cards as you guys were in the middle of Go Fish. "You guys went to boarding school."

"Mhm, we've been bunk mates since we were twelve."

"That's cute," You said before taking a swig from the chilled can of beer, before placing it down in front of you.

The conversations switched between different topics. "So what about the two of you?" Tashi asked, gesturing between the two of them. It took a solid minute before they realised what she was insinuating.

"No."

"No."

"Well..."

"No, don't."

"What? It’s a sweet story," Patrick giggled as he recalled it, Art went a brilliant shade of red as he hid his face behind his shirt, hiding his embarrassment.

"Well go on, let's hear it," You leant backwards, leaning against your hands as you watched Art turn even more red before he threw his hands up in defeat. Patrick nodded.

"I taught Art how to jerk off," Patrick said, watching Art's head hang in embarrassment. You couldn't fight off the grin that made way on your face.

"Okay. Patrick was an early bloomer, and I think I was on time," Patrick said. "And one time, I thought he was asleep but he was, y'know... jerking off—."

"Jerking off. And, yeah..." Patrick butted in.

"And I asked him, "What are you doing?"And he told me; He's jerking off." Patrick again jabbed in with the 'jerking off' part. "He asked me if I've ever done it before and I said no, so he just...showed me."

"What do you mean he showed you how?" Tashi laughed, she had been sitting with her legs pressed against her chest, arms wrapped around her knees.

"No I mean...he did it on his bed and I did it on mine. We did it together but like, on opposite sides...in the room," Art looked like he wanted to die, to have the earth split open in two and swallow him.

"Silently?"

"Hmm? No, no. I was think of Kat Zimmerman and so..." Patrick explained.

"So I was thinking about her too."

"Because it's always better to have someone in mind, y'know?"

"So who finished first?" Tashi asked, you turned your head to look at her with a raised brow, wondering why she was asking all these questions.

"I don't remember..."

"I think it was him," Patrick pointed at Art. Art tried to deny but Patrick wasn't hearing it. "No... it definitely was. I remember," He began to chuckle. "I remember how he was just sitting there, like some kid who had spilt milk all over his lap. I knew enough to have a sock nearby. Forgot to tell Art so..."

"Oh Jesus, Patrick!" Art sighed, skin hot and pink from how much Patrick was letting on.

"No, I think it's a cute story," You giggled while Art looked at you distraught before running a hand over his face muttering things under his breath.

Tashi took a sip of beer before she shook the can. "We're out of beer.”

She said that before standing up, you watched as she looked around the room before deciding to sit on the edge of the bed, hands in her lap. Her eyes cast down on the three of you as you still sat on the floor.

With a jut of her head, she said; "Come here,"

"Which one—?" Patrick was already pushing off the floor and sitting down next to her, Art following suit, while you decided to stay seated on the floor, turning to look at them.

Tashi sat on the bed with Art and Patrick next to her while you sat on the floor, in the boy's shared room. It took you by surprise when she leant closer to Patrick, almost as if she was going to kiss him before tilting her chin away and pressing her lips against Art's. Patrick looked butt-hurt to say the least.

Her lips mingled against Arts in a steamy kiss, Patrick's shoulders sagged and you, all you could do was watch. She then broke the kiss and kissed Patrick, Art watching their lips move together, mesmerised.

What shocked you the most after she had finished kissing Patrick, was when she bent at the waist to look at you. "Come here," Tashi instructed.

You blinked up at her before standing up from the ground and walking towards her. She grabbed the front of your hoodie and pulled you onto Art, whose hands had to grip your waist to prevent you from falling, your hands on his shoulders.

"Go on..." She instructed, gesturing between you and Art. Your lips parted to say something but closed as you turned to look over at Art.

Slowly, you brought your face to kiss, lips brushing his, which had a thin layer of saliva on them, and pressed them together. Arts hands moved from your hips to your lower back, lips moving increasingly faster and harder against each other.

Tashi watched as you kissed the boy, Patrick watched her. Her brown eyes blown with lust as she slowly brought her lips to Patrick's, eyes prying off of you before fluttering shut.

You leant closer, lifting your legs up to straddle him, his hands immediately going to cup your ass, to hold you firm in place. Art would let out small whimpers and whines against your lips, turning into putty when your fingers thread through his locks, the boy almost came in his pants when you tugged in his air.

It really didn't help when he felt your hips dip, as you began to grind your hips against his lap, his pyjama shorts were so thin, and your cotton shorts were just as, he could feel the heat of you against his aching erection.

Art gave up and lay back, having you still cage him in, hips relentless. You could feel his cock, hard and throbbing against your clothed arousal, which was dripping into your panties.

Art's lips broke away from yours, allowing for your lips to kiss down his jaw and suck purple and red bruises on his neck. His mouth lax, letting out whimpers of your name. "Aw, fuck...shit..." He'd moan, his strong hands gripped at the flesh of your hips, his own hips kept rocking up against you.

You were well aware of the scene next to you, Tashi and Patrick who's lips were locked together, Patrick was more rough with Tashi than Art was with you, but he wasn't as talkative or loud than Art.

"Please?" Art didn't know what he was begging for, but he needed something. The small patch of wetness in his underwear from his pre-cum was seeping through to your own wet patch of arousal.

"You like this, Art?" You asked against his skin, Art nodded, his larger hand finding the ends of your hair and tugging at it, you could only let out a moan of your own. You moaned his name, and that was Art's end game as he spilled his hot cum in his shorts, moaning out your name.

You couldn't enjoy it any longer, the way you felt your own high near, the way you felt wet and sticky down there, desperate for release before you were yanked backwards by Tashi, who gripped your hoodie. "Come on, it's time to go."

"W-What?" You asked in disbelief, back on your feet. Art had sat up and grabbed a pillow, hiding the massive spill in his shorts with a face as red as a turnip. "But I was...we were just—."

"Ah, ah, ah, it's past one. Bed time, missy." Tashi let go of your hoodie and began to walk towards the door. You could tell she enjoyed her kiss, with her messy hair and the dark marks that began to darken against her skin, but clearly that's all it was for her and Patrick—a kiss.

You had no choice but to follow, turning to look over at Art who watched you, like a kicked puppy, leave. "I'm not done with you," you pointed to him before you were out of sight.

Patrick waited until you were guaranteed to be out of ear shot before turning and grabbing Art by the shoulders and ferociously shake him. "Dude! Look at you! Almost banged one of the hottest chick ever!" He exclaimed. "You should totally go for her, she was definitely into you."

"You think?" Art got a little too excited and stood up, pillow slipping from his lap, exposing his semi-boner he got from recalling the events.

"Yeah," Patrick slapped Art's boner, who doubled over in pain. "Go for it."

A week had passed, Tashi and Patrick were somewhat a thing, as for you and Art, well, he thought you were ignoring him. Anytime he saw Tashi, you weren't with, you were always with Tashi. The one time he asked her where you were and she said practicing on the courts, when he got there, there was no sign of you.

Art wondered if he did anything wrong, if you regretted the kiss. Since the kiss, Art hadn't been able to get you off his mind, he knew of you before and thought you were brilliant and was somewhat attracted, but now? He's utterly infatuated with you, and you... are no where to be seen.

You had been so caught up in your studies, you had one last final to write before you were done. You had spent most of your days harbouring knowledge in your room or practicing for shorter periods than what you perhaps should have, it was an ongoing cycle.

Thankfully all that stress was gone into this air when you walked out the exam venue, immediately going to the small vending machine. "God damn it," You sighed, your foot digging into the metal box when it swallowed up your five dollar bill and refused to give you your snack. "Why?"

Your name was called, you look at the directions to see Art jogging over to you. The closer he got, the more sheepish he became. "There you are, I haven't seen you all week."

"Oh. I'm sorry, I've just been studying for my final finals, between that and tennis I've just lost track of time," You told him honestly. You watched as his shoulders relaxed and he suddenly became embarrassed.

"Oh. I thought you were avoiding me," His hand rubbed the back of his neck, skin burning under his touch. "I'm sorry."

"Avoiding you?" You crossed your arms over your chest. "Why would I do that?"

"I...I don't know. I just thought that you didn't like the kiss we had, and got weirded out when I, y'know..." Art stared at his shoes, they were pearly white and brand new. "I didn't know, now I sound stupid."

"Pfft, no you don't," You let out a breath of a laugh. "And no, I did very much enjoy our kiss, and I kinda liked it when you came in your pants."

Art let out a groan of embarrassment, big smile stretching on his face as his head lifted up to look at the popcorn ceiling before looking at you. "Stop! Now you make me sound like a virgin," He laughed and shook his head.

"No, it was cute," You smiled up at him, leaning against the vending machine. It was silent as you two just smiled and stared at each other. His face inching to yours.

A beat passed. "I really wanna kiss you right now," He admitted, his voice was soft yet filled with desire. "Can I kiss you right now?"

"I'd be upset if you didn't," Arts lips were instantly on yours. Not caring if others could see. His one hand was on your jaw, fingers pushing between your hair, tongue licking at your bottom lip.

You didn't allow him into your mouth before you broke the kiss, finding it sweet how his lips chased yours before realising you weren't going to continue the kiss, opting to look at you with a small pout.

"Why'd you stop?"

"Can't give you everything you want," You smirked. "You'll have to find me later if you want more, and who knows? Maybe you'll cum in your pants again," Your smirk grows bigger when you finish your sentence before brushing past him and walking away, leaving a very flustered and shocked Art by the vending machine.

The irony of it all was your snack slipped from its holder, landing with a loud 'clang' at the bottom. Art replayed your words in his head, and now he couldn't wait for 'later'.

Except he didn't know when was 'later' and where it was. He doesn't know which hotel, you were in nor which room. He would only be able to catch you during school. He thankfully caught you in the schools canteen, where he was going to meet Patrick. You were busy ordering from the counter when he saw you, Patrick going to go sit down by the counter against the wall.

You had bought a chocolate croissant, spinning around only to almost bump into Art. "Oh, didn't see you there."

"Sorry," You could count how many times he'd apologised today on one hand. "Just, didn't know when to catch you, and I don't have your number so... uh," He licked his bottom lip as he chose how to ask you. "When is...later?"

"Ohh, later, as in round two, when we pick up where we left off later? M'kay, well that's whenever you want it to be," You gave him a smile after your words.

He tilted his chin down by a smidgen, his blonde locks barely moving as some were trapped under his red cap he wore backwards. "If I had my way, later would be now," He admitted, a flash of darkness surged though his eyes before it was gone as he stepped around you to order, leaving you just as shocked as you left him by the vending machine.

You let out a hum, turning around to face his back. "I'll come visit you tonight at eight, make sure your friend is gone before I arrive. See you," You chirped before spinning on your heel and walking out the canteen.

Art mulled on your words—yet again, and now he really, fucking couldn't wait until 'later'. He grabbed his two churros from the lady at the counter and made his way towards Patrick who was grinning from ear to ear. "So. What did she say?"

Art cleared his throat. "Hey, don't you wanna go spend the night with Tashi?" He asked, in hopes that Patrick would agree and not catch on to what he said, unfortunately for him, he did.

"Man, my man! You horn dog!" Patrick chuckled as he grabbed his churro and took a large chuck out of it, chewing on it mercilessly. "But yeah, I'll spend the night with Tashi."

And then, the 'later' came. Patrick had left and told Art he'd be back somewhere tomorrow, leaving Art all on his own. Art had only ever done casual, he'd gone on maybe two dates, which ultimately failed, and he's slept with maybe four other girls which would all leave by the morning, he told himself this was nothing new, yet found himself spraying on a little extra deodorant to smell good, for you.

His heart rate spiked when he heard you knock on the door, he rushed to rip it open revealing you in a pink sweater and denim shorts. He greeted you a little too quickly, he was nervous.

"Hi, Art," You stepped inside and wrapped your arms around him in a hug, he immediately melted into it as he shut the door with one hand.

"I have a movie and some snacks, if you wanna watch," His thumb jabbed towards the small TV in the hotel room that was positioned in the corner, facing the two double beds.

"Sure, Art. Lead the way," Art nodded and turned to go find a movie to watch, pondering over which was suited for the occasion before settling on some crappy romance flick. You sat at the edge of Arts bed, where you two had kissed. Art rushed to turn off the lights and grab a packet of chips, before plonking himself next to you.

You thought it was sweet how you two were supposed to fuck, yet here you were, watching some poorly executed film.

Twenty minutes had passed before you grew bored of the movie. You turned your head to watch Art instead.

You could see how tense he was, his adams apple bobbed when he swallowed a chip, his back plank straight instead of hunched in relaxation.

A soft gasp caught in his throat when he felt your hand land on his back and run up and down his spine. "You're so tense, Art," He looked over at you, while you watched your hands movements. His hands firm on his thighs.

His eyelids fluttered shut and his lashes kissed his cheeks when your hands went higher to massage his head. He dared not open is eyes when your warm breath fanned his face. You were close, so so close!

"Look at me," Like an obedient puppy, his eyes snapped open as he stared at you. "Why are you so nervous?”

Art swallowed. "You make me nervous," He said, before whispering; "because I like you."

You couldn't fight off the smile that graced your face. "It's okay Art, I like you too," your hand moved to his forehead where you pushed his curls back, Art enjoying your touch before a frown graced his features when it left. He then felt your weight on him as you climbed onto his lap, exactly like the time you shared your kiss. Arms looped around his neck and your chest against his.

His hands got a little more touchy as they slipped under your sweater and settled on the warm skin of your lower back, his fingertips tracing every groove and bump there. His sky blue eyes looking up at you through his light lashes in the dimly lit room. "You do?" He whispered softly.

"I do," Then, you pressed your lips to his. He sighed against you, allowing for the rest of his nerves to evaporate, his arms ringing you closer. You felt his lashes brush your skin, and his curls against your forehead. You licked at his bottom lip and he immediately allowed for your tongue to press against his.

Your nails scratched at the spot beneath his ear, sending a shiver down his spine and an involuntary whimper to escape his throat. It was so easy to get him worked up, his erection making his Nike shorts taut. His eyes rolled back in his head when your hips shifted against his, allowing for some release.

"Mmm, Art," You breathlessly mumbled, even though the denim shorts barely helped you, the feeling of his hands touching all over your back and rear was still pleasant.

Your hips became more vigour, and Art became louder. "No, no, no..." He seemed to catch on to what you were trying to do, his hands flew to your hips and ripped you off, making you hover. Arms strong from his years of tennis. "You're not gonna make me cum in my pants again."

You smirked at this. "You're no fun," You shook your head, Art rolled over, now having your back against the bed, and your legs dangle off the sides. You wasted no time, grabbing the front of his shirt and bringing him to you, reconnecting your lips together.

Art kissed you back passionately, his tongue entering your mouth as he took it all in. His hands traveled over your body, trying to memorize it as he felt your curves and your skin. He continued to kiss and nibble down your neck, leaving small hickeys in his path. His hands grabbed the hem of your shirt, slowly and carefully pulling it off of you to reveal your exposed breasts.

Art couldn't help but admire your body. He took a moment to drink in the view, his eyes traveling up and down your frame. He reached out and gently ran a hand over your skin, tracing your curves with his fingers. His calloused fingers went to your nipple, you shuddered when he gave it a gentle tug before letting it settle back into place.

He smiled, a hint of desire in his eyes. "You're so beautiful," he whispered, his voice low and seductive. He leaned in to kiss you again, his lips loving down and finding your neck and nibbling gently.

"Art, take your clothes off," You whine, hand grasping the back of his shirt to pull at it. "It's unfair how I'm half naked while you're fully."

Art let out a bemused chuckle at your impatience, his smile widening. "Anything for you," he teased, his voice dripping with desire. He stood up straight, pulling his shirt off and discarding it on the floor before going for his pants, he then quickly bent at the waist and turned on the lamp, "Wanna see you."

You watched his expose his torso, now stripped down to his underwear before going back to you, his fingers moved forwards and dug into the waistband of your shorts before yanking them, you had already undone the button, with some not-so-fluid motion, they came off. His hands went to your hips but you were so eager to kiss him again, leaning forward and smashing your lips against his.

One of your hands went to steady yourself on his arm with the other was feeling the muscles and flesh of his torso, pinkie finger grazing over his black underpants until your whole hand was  grasping his hard cock, even through the material, you felt the ridges and veins, the small wet patch grew the longer you touched him.

"That feels good," Art admitted against your hips, his hips pressing further into your touch. "Really fucking good."

"I know, my baby," Your words sent a flutter through his chest. You moved your hand up before it slipped underneath his boxers, now nestled in your palm as you stroked him. You had to momentarily break the kiss, pushing his boxers down and spitting on the head of his cock, throbbing red, lubricating it as you jerked him off slowly.

"Mmf— fuck!" He hissed when your thumb brushed his leaky slit, hips bucking up into your hand.

You continued this motion, jerking your hand and rubbing his tip, moments before your name spilled from his lips like a mantra, white spurts of his thick cum spilling onto your hand. You continued until he rode out his high until bringing your hand to your lips and licking majority of his cum off with a satisfied hum.

Art grabbed your hand unexpectedly and moved it to his lips, his mouth opening, letting his tongue lap up the rest of his cum on your hand in languid strokes, eyes boring into yours. "You tasted so good," You told him, his eyelashes quivered and his cheeks flushed further at your praise.

He let your hand fall when he finished, you dug your hand into the bedding and shifted upwards until your back hit the bed frame. He crawled onto the bed until he was hovering over you, blonde locks sticking to his forehead with perspiration.

His head ducked forward to kiss your collar bone and up, trailing over your neck as he peppered it with kisses before his nose nudged your ear. "God, I need you so bad."

"You have me, Art," Your hands pressed against his shoulders, pushing him to the side and then onto his back, allowing for you to kick your leg over and straddle him, the only thing in your way was your own underwear. "All of me."

Art looked exactly that, like an art piece. His blue eyes contrast to his pink cheeks and pale hair, lips red and swollen from the numerous kisses, his chest heaving up and down and his heart thundering away, waiting for your next move. His hands went to your hips, thumb rubbing along any groove you had, his hands now warm. "All of you," He echoed.

You raised your lips, your fingers pushing your underwear to the side, not even off, your eyes flickered to his. He gulped when he saw how wet you were, arousal dripping down into him. He moved his hand to grab his cock, positioning it in a way that was easy for you to slip him inside.

First was the tip, it set you up for the anticipation of all of hi , the further you sunk down onto him, the more it hurt, but you weren't gonna complain, not after pining to Tashi about this boy. Art let out a whimper when he was fully sheathed, already tender from his previous orgasm.

You planted both hands on his chest before lifting your hips, and dropping them down. Arts hands tightened their hold as he assisted, having you lift them plummet onto his cock, his blonde eyebrows scrunching in pleasure. The movements got faster, and the euphoria expanded. "You're making me feel so good," You told him, hips doing a combination of grinding on and riding his cock

Arts eyes shone upon your words, pride sweeping in his chest and a warm feeling settling in his tummy. "Yeah?" He asked and you nodded, taking one hand of his and arranging g his fingers in a way that pressed against your throbbing clit, Art new immediately what you wanted and fervently rubbing circles on the aching nub, your pussy squeezing him at the added pleasure. "Ah fuck, feels so good, so so good."

Art didn't shut up as you rode him. He'd moan, groan and whimper your name. Telling you how good you felt around him. "Am I doing good?” His voice was soft and shaky.

"Yes Art, shit! You’re doing so good, baby. I'm so proud," and your words were even shakier. Arts fingers rubbed faster against your clit, he bent his knees which made you shift forward, his cock now repeatedly bumping against that one spot that had you seeing stars and galaxies beyond.

That sent Art toppling over the edge, his hands squeezed harder around your waist, head thrown back and his back arched as he came, buried deep in your pussy. You felt his warm load full you up, and his hips stop moving against yours, a loud moan of your name falling from his lips.

You couldn't beat the small ounce of disappointment you felt when he lifted you, soft cock slipping out, and your orgasm vaporise. "Did you enjoy?"

He nodded, eyes blinking up at the ceiling. His lips then parted before shutting, before ultimately opening again. "You didn't cum, did you?"

You sucked in a short breath. "No."

Arts eyes screwed shut like your words pained him. "I'm sorry," He mumbled.

You were going to say something but he beat you to it.

“Sit on my face."

"What?" You asked, astonished.

"You heard me, sit on my face."

You blinked once before swallowing, moving up now face to face with the wall as your pussy hovered over his face, slick with arousal and his own cum. He wasted no time, fingers pushing you firm against him, clit bumping his nose before his tongue dove into your pussy.

His own previous, salty release washed over his tongue, before it moved to your clit, where it began to flick at it. Your fingers sighting out his hair, pulling on it as you ground yourself further against his face. Even though your eyes were fighting to roll back into your skull and your tongue was threatening to fall out, you still made effort to look down at him.

His own eyes shut as he focused on his movements, you'd feel small vibrations against your clit, once he'd wrapped his lips around them, as he whimpered, savouring the way you tasted. Your body fell forward, head smushed against the wall at one particular flick on the tongue.

His long fingers sought out your puckering hole that clenched around nothing, until two fingers filled you up. You had to bite down on your forearm, when he split his fingers open, scissoring inside you. "I-I'm not gonna last any longer," You moaned.

Art mumbled something against you, his tongue lapping faster like a starved man, and that was it. You felt your release rip from you like a tidal wave, legs clamping around his head, drowning him in your fluids.

When you lifted your hips, you saw how the bottom half of his face was drenched in cum, his lips open and panting. You swung your leg around so you could lay next to him. You couldn't help your fingers that wiped away at his face, his pink tongue sticking out to lick your release from your fingers. "How was I? Truly?"

You let out a tired smile. "You were great, Art."

He nodded, tilting his head to look at you. "So were you."

You let out an exhausted chuckle before curling yourself into him, Art's hand went to stroke your hair, lips pressing a kiss against your hairline.

"Will I get to see you again? L-Like other than sex?" His words vibrated against your head.

"If this is a way of asking me on a date, then yes."

You felt him slowly nod. "Okay, yes. Good."

"Good."

"Good..."

[part 2]

[artdcnaldson]

Tie Break || Art Donaldson x Reader ; Patrick Zweig x Reader

this can be read as a sequel to changeover or as a standalone :) enjoy <3

Rating: E (18+)

Word Count: 7.7k

Warnings: SMUT (p in v smut x2, f!recieving oral, handjob, creampie, cum eating), angst with a happy ending, infidelity, toxic relationships, everyone in this is kind of a horrible person, language obviously

Summary: It’s summer in Atlanta, 2011. For the second time in your life, you’re the clear second choice. When the opportunity arises, you find a temporary distraction in Art Donaldson.

A/N: FINALLY here it is! The 2011 Atlanta fic. They’re back, they’re older, they’re even more toxic. Let me know if you’re interested in a part 3!

It was hot, even though the sun had long since dipped beneath the horizon. It was a cloying, oppressive heat that made the stupid, business-casual top you wore stick to your skin. 

The article you were working on was halfway written, something you could knock out in the next hour if you really tried. Your drink was watered down from the heat, weak when it hit your tongue. A frown turned your lips, but you really shouldn’t have been drinking anyway.

"Working late?”

The voice was so familiar that you could’ve recognized it anywhere, any time. Art Donaldson was one of the most recognizable men in the country, but to you, he seemed so different. The boyishness was still there, but it lay beneath a new level of confidence.

You took a sip of your drink, trying to appear nonchalant, like it hadn’t been four years since you last spoke. “I’m on deadline. I’m writing a feature on Anna Mueller heading into the US Open next month.”

Without asking, he sat down across from you at the small bistro table. He was so close you could smell the minty gum he had been chewing. It nearly made you smile. Old habits die hard.

“So you write about tennis?” He asked, meeting your gaze. 

“I write about athletes,” you corrected. “I was going to be here anyway, and since Anna is heading for a Grand Slam, I thought it would be easy enough. Grab a couple of interviews, watch a few matches.”

He nodded, leaning back in the chair, trying his best to be causal in a situation that definitely wasn’t. You sipped again at your drink, peering at him over the edge of the glass. 

“You have a match tomorrow,” you said, as though he needed reminding. “Shouldn’t you be listening to shitty pop punk to get yourself psyched right now?”

A smile spread across his lips, and he looked so much like the guy you knew from college that it made your chest tug uncomfortably. Same hair, the same smile, the same crinkle at the edges of his eyes when he was amused by something. You couldn’t help but smile along with him, like the past four years were nothing. “I don’t do that anymore,” he said with a laugh. “Do you want another drink?”

You looked down at your glass, mostly water and thin ice cubes. “Rum and coke?” You asked, giving him a tiny smile. He nodded and disappeared towards the bar.

It felt strange, sitting there in the quiet, your article the furthest thing from your mind. Four years. It felt like yesterday and an eternity ago that you’d last spoken with him. He was a familiar stranger, nearly unknowable. 

Your cursor blinked a few more times before you shut your laptop and slid it back inside your beat-up work bag. 

“Running off?” He asked, catching you in the act of packing your things. You shook your head and accepted the fresh drink with a smile. “You said you were going to be in Atlanta anyway,” he said as he sat, spreading out, making himself comfortable in the shitty bar seating. “When you were talking about writing about Anna.”

You nodded. “Mhmm, I did,” you replied, chewing the inside of your lip nervously. His gaze was intense, falling just on the other side of casual. You felt tiny under that gaze, like you were guilty of a crime you didn’t know you’d committed. 

“And you’re here for Patrick?” The words were nonchalant, but you could hear the accusation beneath them, the history of the two of them just in one sentence. It turned something in your stomach, the possessiveness in his voice. You could hear it, even four years out.

The new drink was strong, but it was the perfect way to hide the distaste in your expression. The burn of liquor into your chest grounded you back in reality instead of the easy allure of nostalgia. “Yeah,” you said after a beat. “I try my best to go to all of his matches.”

Art narrowed his eyes, just slightly. There was still an element of exaggerated friendliness, the casual smile on his lips, the open body language. All of it masking the lingering resentment and hurt that was buried beneath mountains of nostalgia. Deep enough that neither of you had realized it was still there until you found yourselves face to face. There was an unspoken question, one that he didn’t want to ask, one that you didn’t want to answer. 

How long?

You took another drink. 

“Where is Patrick?” He asked, glancing around like he might materialize out of thin air.

“He went out for a smoke, or to walk around and clear his head, or something,” you said with a shrug. “I’m not his keeper. Where’s Tashi?”

His jaw clenched and he looked away— a sore spot. A scab you wanted to pick at until it bled, dig your nails in. Maybe that was your eighteen-year-old self talking. 

“You never used to let her get too far away from you,” you noted, mirth dripping from each syllable. “Bet you came down here looking for her. Your leash must’ve been just a little too loose this time and she slipped it.”

You took a long drink, nails tapping against the glass as you considered your words. Tashi wasn’t the type of woman who let a man hold her back. If you were trying to be more accurate, rather than just piss him off, you might’ve fixed the analogy. Art was the sad little puppy following her around. She tied his leash to a lamp post for a fucking break.

“Do you remember the day Tashi got injured?” He asked, changing the subject suddenly. 

You blinked slowly, appraising him. But his expression gave nothing away. “I do.”

A wry smile spread across his lips, and he met your gaze with a coldness that you didn’t recognize. Mean in the way injured animals like to snap at the nearest hand. “It was Patrick in your room that night, wasn’t it?”

Your brows furrowed, face falling at his words. “What?”

He made a face, something akin to skepticism, but crueler. It made your stomach turn. 

“You were fucking someone in your room,” he said plainly. “And I’ve always had a suspicion that it was Patrick. Was it?”

That didn’t do much to clear up your confusion. “You were there?”

He laughed, mirthless, and nodded. “I was, uh, sitting by the door like an asshole. I came to apologize, to beg for you back, but instead, I spent the night listening to my girlfriend getting fucked on the other side of the door.”

Annoyance flickered in your gaze. He knew of a wound of your own, and he relished in picking at it the way you’d relished in digging your fingers into his. “I wasn’t your girlfriend, Art.”

“Right, you weren’t. But you’re Patrick’s girlfriend now, is that it?”

Heat burned in your cheeks. Your relationship with Patrick was… tempestuous to say the least. Most of the time he was your boyfriend, but others he was just a friend that you could count on for a good fuck, sometimes not even a friend. At the moment, he was the former, but that could always change.

It wasn’t easy, being with someone whose emotions ran on an equally short fuse. You’d sound too much like his parents, or he’d devalue your work, or Patrick would forget to take out the trash in your apartment and you’d snap, or you’d mispronounce a word one too many times and it would drive him crazy. Insignificant things could feel big with him, because of him. For better or worse. 

“At the moment, yes.”

“At the moment.” He echoed, laughing like he was in on some joke you were painfully unaware of.

”That’s amusing to you?” You asked, raising a brow. 

He shrugged, picking at his jeans. “Your choice of words is interesting.” He lets that hang in the air before he meets your gaze again. “Do you think Patrick would’ve even noticed you if it hadn’t been for me?”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Does it matter?” You asked. “You realize that we’ve been together going on four years now, right? Broken up, dating, fucking, whatever. You realize that there may be more important things in our life than you?”

“Maybe, but I doubt it. I think you know that whatever you have, it’s built on the fact that you were a warm body when he needed it. Just like you were for me.”

That arrogant expression, like he actually fucking knew anything about you anymore was the last straw. You stood suddenly, grabbing your bag. You weren’t Art Donaldson’s little lapdog anymore— you didn’t have to sit there and take all the shit he doled out. 

“Goodnight, Art. Thanks for the drink.”

It was funny, how your weaknesses were still so exposed. Art’s was Tashi, and it probably always would be. His desire to be seen, to impress, painted upon every lovely feature. And yours, raw and bleeding and obvious— the unbearable, visceral need to be wanted.

You made it to the elevator before you felt his presence behind you. Wordless, but so close it was suffocating. You jabbed the up button over and over in frustration, knowing it wouldn’t speed anything up. 

Art stepped into the elevator with you, so close you could feel the body heat radiating off of him. He always burned hot, like a human furnace. 

It was silent as the lift lurched upwards. You pressed against the back corner, watching the number of the floor increase one by one. 

“Patrick is with Tashi,” Art said without looking at you, just as the elevator opened on the floor of your room. You froze, swallowing hard. “I saw them in the hotel bar, then they left together. What do you think they’re doing right now?”

You shook your head dumbly, pulse thrumming in your throat. “Go fuck yourself, Art,” you said weakly, because what else was there to say? You stepped into the hallway— lit with dim yellow light so you couldn’t see where the wallpaper peeled and the carpet was stained.

“If you need somewhere to wait them out, and you will, I’m in room 13 on the seventh floor.” The elevator doors closed, and you were alone. 

The hallway was winding, and you felt a bad sort of anticipation of what you might find, like a sick feeling in your gut. You stood in front of the room, 306, and froze.

The door to your room was closed, no light shone from beneath the door, but you could hear them. Muffled, but clear enough. A pretty voice and breathy moans. Patrick’s laugh, the thud of something falling off the dresser.

Your room key was in your purse— you could’ve gotten it out and stopped it, but what good would that have done? You’d still spend the night humiliated, facing opposite walls as Patrick, lying in the same sheets he’d just fucked her in. 

You dropped the bag by the door and took a slow, shaky breath to calm yourself down. 

Tashi Duncan. She had lingered on the edges of your relationship with Patrick too. She was Patrick’s first choice, just as she’d been Art’s. You’d never blamed them for that, you knew where you stood, and you chose them anyway. 

It was easy to choose them when you thought that the threat was nonexistent— when distance made you feel safe. You could hear her and him, but it felt like mere static in your brain.

You knew how Art felt, back at Stanford. Sulking outside the door, unable and unwilling to stop what was happening on the other side. 

You were in the elevator before you realized you’d walked away. Shitty soft rock played over the speakers, and a poster on the wall advertised a continental breakfast. Your stomach turned uncomfortably. 

You knocked on the door— room thirteen, an unlucky number. Maybe it didn’t bode well. As you waited for the door to open, your nails tapped a staccato rhythm against your thigh.

Art opened the door like he’d been expecting someone else. Maybe he had half-expected you to interrupt and send Tashi back upstairs, but no. He got you standing at his door with fiery eyes and an expectant expression. 

Second choice, second choice, second choice.

Art kissed you for the first time in four years, and you let him. Not because you wanted to hurt Patrick or Tashi, but because you knew it would hurt you. His tongue pressed between the seam of your lips like he belonged there, licking into your mouth like he wanted to reclaim every part of you that Patrick had touched. You pushed him with a firm hand on his chest and he stumbled backward into the room. Despite everything, he smiled. 

His hotel room was nearly identical to yours and Patrick’s. But you didn’t have time to really take in the details when he had his tongue in your mouth, kissing you hungrily.

That afternoon, you kissed Patrick after he lost his match. You wondered if Art could still taste him on your tongue then, if he wanted to drown out the taste of him. 

It was different than you were used to. Four years with Patrick meant that you’d grown accustomed to certain ways that he did things— the intensity behind each kiss, each touch. His emotions— good, bad, in between— were never masked, never repressed. 

When Patrick kissed you, when he touched you, when he fucked you— both of you were laid completely bare. 

Art was different. When he kissed you it was through a certain level of performance, like he’d learned how from a searing romance film. In college, you’d believed that he kissed you like that because deep down, he did love you. Even at that moment, years out from your relationship with him, it muddled your brain.

Your sensible work heels had long since been kicked off by the door. Art’s fingers undid the button and zip of your jeans deftly, with a confidence that had only doubled since Freshman year. They wound up in a heap against the hotel dresser. 

In his haste to remove your (also sensible, and very business casual) button-down, he popped about half of the buttons off completely. 

“Sorry,” he said. The grin on his lips made you wonder if sorry was really how he felt. “I’ll buy you a new one.”

“Stop talking.” You pulled off your bra and lost it somewhere across the room in your haste. Art was pulling off his clothes— his hoodie and the shirt beneath. His jeans and shoes toed off and left to be dealt with later. 

He kissed you again, guiding you exactly where he needed. Your knees hit the back of the mattress and he eased you down without moving his lips from yours. When your head hit the sheets, you smelled perfume so sweet that it was nearly intoxicating. You turned your head, breathing deeply. Tashi. In this same bed, in this same spot. It made something stir inside you— right in your chest. A hint of wrongness, a hint of hurt. 

Art pulled back, moving his lips along your jaw, down to the junction of your throat. 

“Stop thinking,” he murmured against your skin, kissing down to your tits. “I don’t want you thinking about Patrick. Not when you’re with me.”

The words were mumbled against soft, supple skin. His eyes were intent as they looked up at you, the demand of momentary fidelity in his eyes. You wanted to slap that expression off of his face, or run your thumb along his cheek and hold his face in your hands. 

How was it fair that he asked you that when he’d lingered like a ghost on the edges of whatever it was that you and Patrick had? How was it fair for him to look at you like that?

He took a nipple into his mouth and you gasped as his teeth grazed against the sensitive skin. Soft kisses before he suckled softly. “Okay,” you gasped, lying through your teeth. “I’m only thinking of you.”

His hair was still long, kept the same way he wore it in school. Your fingers tangled in his hair like muscle memory, scratching against his scalp as he kissed along your skin with wet lips, treating your other breast with the same, hungry attention.

“Still so fucking hot,” he mumbled against your skin. “Should’ve— fuck— should’ve kept you. What do you want, huh? Tell me.”

Your mind swam with possibilities, but you didn’t even know where to begin. Your mind was stuck on his previous words. Should’ve kept you. What the fuck was that supposed to mean?  “I don’t know,” you replied, completely honest. “Whatever you want.”

He accepted that easily— it was so similar to how you’d been for him in college. You gasped as he kissed down your sternum, then your stomach. His lips found the waistband of your panties and he grinned, tugging at the lace with his teeth, letting it snap back against your hip. 

He peeled your panties down slowly, letting his hands trail down the expanse of your legs. The possessiveness of the touch sent a thrill up your spine. His lips grazed along your skin, from your ankle, up your calf, then your knee. Your legs spread instinctively, welcoming him right back where he knew he belonged. His pretty lips trailed wet kisses up your thighs, stopping just where you wanted him. 

You expected him to rush. He’d seen Patrick and Tashi leave, which meant they’d finish before you two, more likely than not. There was every reason in the world to make things quick— to fuck you and make you leave. 

Instead, he took his time with you. Soft, teasing kisses peppered on the supple skin of your thighs before he nuzzled into your cunt. The first delve of his tongue was slow and exploratory, tasting the arousal that had pooled at your core. 

”God, you still taste so fucking sweet.”

Another thing you’d nearly forgotten about Art— in all things, he was methodical.

He started with kitten licks at your clit— light brushes with his tongue that made you whimper needily for more. His tongue circled you there, and he relished in the way your fingers tugged on his hair at the sensation. 

Then he wrapped his lips around the sensitive bud, sucking with more pressure until a strangled moan squeezed past your lips. Your thighs tensed on either side of his head, holding him there as he alternated between slow, soothing licks and firm suction.

It was frustrating, how wet you were. Art had brought out the worst in you, turned you into something that left you feeling genuinely embarrassed. And still, you were slick, dripping down to the sheets. A mess of arousal and Art’s spit. 

When he eased a finger into your cunt, it slid in like your body was made to fit whatever he could give you. At that point, you very well could have been. What were you, if not an object orbiting in the atmosphere of his life?

He looked up at you, seeming so fucking intent on making it feel good for you as he crooked his finger. It rubbed against the soft, spongy spot within you and you cried out, eyes rolling back. 

“That’s it, huh?” He cooed as he pressed a second finger inside of you. Your arm was slung over your face. You couldn’t let yourself keep looking at him when he was looking at you the same way he had in college. The same fucking expression that got your head all mixed up in the first place. 

He pressed a soft kiss to your clit and you whimpered. “I know it feels good, baby, just relax.”

His fingers thrust within you with a slow, deep pressure as he continued to make out with your clit. It was always so good with him— you’d nearly forgotten how easy it was for him to bring you to the edge. 

When you came, it wasn’t like what you had grown used to with Patrick— sudden and overwhelming, like it had been ripped from some secret place within you. It was intense, but slow to build, seeming to last forever as Art’s fingers and tongue worked you through it. Your breath was shaky as he pulled back, pretty mouth wet with your arousal.

“Do you want to stop?” He asked, looking up at you expectantly. 

You should’ve stopped— rationally, you knew that it was best to turn back and quit before you fucked up the situation beyond repair. 

But it was Art. He could’ve had anyone else, but he wanted you. Maybe not forever, or even longer than that night. But for then. 

You shook your head softly. “No. Do you think we should stop?”

His fingers moved between your thighs, circling your clit. “We definitely should. You’re with Patrick.”

You sighed, eyes fluttering as he caressed you with featherlight touches. “Don’t fucking talk about him,” you said, but your words came out with no bite. How could they, when he was playing with your body like a favorite toy?

“No?” He asked. He was wearing a smug sort of expression. “You don’t want me to talk about your boyfriend, huh? Too personal?”

You moaned as he applied more pressure at the apex of your thighs, making your cunt clench and ache to be filled. 

“Does Patrick know how much you’ve missed me?” He asked. Your breath caught in your throat, and he just smiled. “I bet he does. I think he knows that if he just drops my name in a conversation, your pussy gets wet.”

You moaned softly at his words, chest heaving with soft pants. You weren’t even sure if it was true, but it felt like it could’ve been then. He leaned down, his words spoken close to your ear.

“I can go slow. Make it last for you.” His lips brushed the shell of your ear, making you shiver. 

You nodded eagerly, turning your head to capture his lips with yours. The kiss was slow, like you had all the time in the world. His tongue against yours, the weight of his body on top of you, the feel of him hard, pressing against your thigh. 

He sat back to strip off his boxers, and you relished in the sight of him laid bare before you. You’d nearly forgotten how pretty he was— big and flushed nearly red with need. It made your heart hammer with nerves; your excitement and shame and need rolled into one messy, electrifying tangle. 

His hair flopped into his eyes as he held himself over you, just like you remembered. You reached up, brushing it out of his eyes with a tender hand. His lips brushed against the inside of your wrist, right where your pulse thrummed in your veins. 

“Tell me you’ve missed me.”

Heat flooded your entire body, as you repeated the words. “I missed you, Art.” You reached between your bodies, wrapping your hand around his cock, and guiding it towards your entrance. He moaned and bucked instinctively into your hand.

”Tell me you want me to fuck you, no one else.” You could hear the implications in his words. Tell me you want me, not Patrick. 

“I want you to fuck me.”

Art pressed himself inside of you, sinking into the welcoming warmth of your cunt. You wrapped your legs around his waist, squeezing him closer, deeper, until his balls pressed firm against you and there was nothing else to give.

He thrust shallowly, rocking against a spot deep within you, one that made your eyes flutter with each brush against it.

“You’re so tight still,” he moaned, lips moving against your throat. “Pussy’s made just for me.”

He touched you like he hadn’t forgotten how you felt or what you needed. Spoke to you like you were one of his possessions.

You lost yourself in it— the sweet, filthy words spoken against your skin, and the rhythm of his body moving against yours. His lips captured yours with a hungry insistence, like he could convey four years' worth of unspoken words with a few brushes of his tongue against yours. 

When he pulled back, lips spit slick and looking so pretty, you thought maybe there was a sort of understanding between the two of you.

His head fell back as he sped up his thrusts, chasing his release. There wasn’t time to stretch it out, to spend as much time as you could with each other’s bodies. 

“Need you to cum,” he said, sliding a hand between your thighs to rub your still-sensitive clit. Your cunt was squeezing him tight, body aching for it, for him, brought to the edge simply because he’d asked for it. “C’mon— you get so tight when you cum, need to feel it again.”

It was like your body was hardwired to give him exactly what he wanted. You came with broken moans of his name and legs squeezing him closer, deeper. Your chest heaved with shaking breaths and punched out whimpers as he kept fucking into you.

He was practically crushing you with his weight, pinning you down, groaning into the junction of your shoulder. 

“Gonna make me cum, baby,” his words vibrated against skin tacky with a thin sheen of sweat.

”Want you to.” Your arms slung around his back, holding him close to you. “I’ve got an IUD, so you can— you can cum.”

His lips met yours as he came, with a pretty moan into your open mouth and slow, messy kisses that made you want to just melt into him and stay that way forever. 

Spent, he rolled over and turned on a lamp at the bedside. The alarm clock announced the time in a dim red glow— five past one.

You lay there, damp between your thighs from the mixture of your releases, unsure of what to do. It was cold beneath the hotel AC. He was peering over at you, wearing an expression you were scared to dissect.

When his hand touched your arm, you nearly flinched. Your breath caught in your throat as he ran his thumb along your skin, so sweetly that you felt that same discomfort tug at your chest. 

“C’mere,” he said, an offer. His arm was splayed over the pillows, giving you the perfect spot to lie down and press yourself against his side. To pretend like you belonged there.

But you didn’t belong there. You belonged four floors down with Patrick. That’s where you had belonged for four years. The reality of what you’d done had set in quickly, and you knew you needed to get out of Art’s room. 

”Art,” you said softly, shaking your head. “I have to go.”

He nodded and sat up against the headboard. You watched him grab his boxers and pull them back on, a strange smile on his face. He must’ve sensed your confusion, even without you saying. 

“It’s funny how things change,” he said. “Here I am, asking you to stay for once.”

You didn’t say anything as you picked up your clothes from around the room, redressing as you recovered each piece from its hiding spot around the room. Your shirt was unsalvageable, so you grabbed Art’s. He had plenty of brand sponsors that would jump to replace it, and Patrick wouldn’t recognize it.

“I loved you, I think,” he said suddenly. “Back in college.”

You froze, arms crossed over your chest as you looked at him. “Art—“

“No, I did. I loved you, I just did it all wrong.”

“Art, just stop,” you said firmly. Embarrassment hit you all at once— the guilt of what you’d done, and the shame over who you’d done it with. Your eyes stung as you looked at him. “Why the fuck would you say that?”

His lips twitched, dipping into a frown, then back into as close to a neutral expression as he could manage. “I just thought you should know. It’s only fair.”

You laughed mirthlessly. “Fair? Jesus Christ, you really haven’t changed, Art.” 

His expression fell completely. It looked like it had back in the hotel bar— icy. “I haven’t changed? What’s that supposed to mean?”

You sighed as you looked at him. “It means that if this were Stanford, that would’ve made me crawl right back into bed, lay by your side, and daydream about what it could mean for us. If one day I might be Mrs. Art Donaldson. It means that you say these sweet things to me every time you can feel me slipping away, but they mean absolutely nothing. We’re not nineteen anymore, Art. I’m not leaving Patrick to be your plaything again.”

His jaw tensed, and he looked down at the bed briefly while he picked at loose threads on the sheets. “You think that’s what I want?”

You frowned. “I think you want what Patrick has.”

He scoffed. “Patrick doesn’t even want what he has,” he said, relishing in the wounded look on your face. “If he did, he wouldn’t be fucking my fiancée right now.”

Fiancée. You felt stupid for not knowing it, but you swallowed down your hurt and met his gaze. “I guess we’re both going to have to be content with being the second choice.” You slipped on your shoes and went for the door. “Good luck with your match tomorrow, Art. I sincerely hope that I never have to see you again.”

The hallway felt colder when you stepped outside of the room and shut the door firmly behind you. A very big part of you wanted to go back, to knock and apologize and grovel like you might have when you were a freshman.

Maybe you hadn’t grown up that much after all. 

The elevator was playing Billy Joel. You leaned against the side of the elevator, relishing in the cold against your sticky skin. When the doors opened on your floor and you stepped out, you blinked in surprise. 

Tashi stood in front of you for the first time since college, looking just as stunning as you remembered, probably more so. Her hair was pulled up, slightly damp at the ends. Her eyes flicked down to your shirt, Art’s shirt, you swallowed as an understanding passed between the two of you— wordless, because what was there to say at that point?

”You left your laptop in the hallway,” she said, skipping formalities. “I took it inside so it wouldn’t get stolen.”

“Okay,” you said, chewing on your lip. She stood there like she expected something more. You felt her surveying you, and froze as she reached forward and rubbed at your bottom lip.

“He could’ve at least cleaned you up a bit,” she said. Her fingers delicately fixed your hair, tucking it back into place. She wiped a smudge of lipstick from the side of your mouth. Once there was nothing left to fix, she looked at you one last time and nodded. “You should be fine now.”

Before you could process that, she stepped into the elevator, and you were left alone in the hallway. When you made it to the room, the door was cracked open, so you let yourself in.

Patrick was on the balcony smoking a cigarette, a towel slung low around his waist. The bed was a fucking wreck, not that he seemed to mind. 

When the door clicked shut, he stubbed out the cigarette he was smoking and joined you back in the room. 

“Are we going to talk about it?” He asked. His jaw tensed as he looked at you, like he was ready if you were going to start a fight.

“I just want to go to bed, Patrick,” you said, annoyed by how wobbly and pathetic you sounded. 

He stepped forward and kissed your forehead. “Okay. We’ll go to bed.”

You kicked off your clothes, but left on Art’s hoodie. Patrick didn’t ask where it came from, or what happened to what you were wearing earlier. You knew he already knew, that he could tell the moment you walked in. He dropped the towel onto a heap on the floor, climbed into the bed, and held out his arms for you.

A stronger person would’ve told him to fuck off, but you weren’t a stronger person. You nestled into his side and felt the hot sting of tears in your eyes. 

He rubbed your back soothingly and kissed your forehead. The sheets smelled like Tashi, he smelled like hotel soap, and you smelled like Art’s cologne. 

“Do you want room service in the morning?” He asked softly.

“Patrick—“

“I’m serious. We can have breakfast in bed, do some tourist-y shit, maybe we’ll go watch a couple of matches, then come back and—“

“Are we supposed to just forget what happened?” You interrupted.

“I thought you didn’t want to talk about it.” He kissed your forehead, tender, sweet. “I’ll tell you everything if that’s what you want.”

You met his gaze. “Do you… do you want to know? About Art?”

He went quiet as he played with the ends of your hair. “Did it make you feel any better?” He finally asked. 

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Then it didn’t.”

He kissed the crown of your head. “No?”

You shook your head, sighing softly as his kisses trailed down, over your nose, to the sides of your mouth. “No. It was a mistake.”

”Tell me about it,” he said, murmuring against your jaw. “Tell me how he touched you.”

You shivered, tilting your head to give him more access. Your nails scratched softly against his scalp as he sucked bruises onto your throat. 

“He was desperate,” you said, heart hammering as you began recounting it to Patrick— your boyfriend. There was no world in which he should’ve wanted to hear about it… and yet. He moaned against your throat, encouraging you, wanting to know more. “Kissed me like he wanted to taste you in my mouth, like he wanted to overpower you.”

Patrick moved his lips to yours, kissing you with a sloppy brush of his tongue against yours. “Like that?”

You shook your head and leaned in, deepening the kiss with slow laps of your tongue into his mouth. He moaned softly, matching your pace in a way that was rare, but made butterflies dance around in your stomach. He pulled you on top of him— hands roaming from the backs of your thighs to squeeze your ass as he deepened the kiss. It was just as slow and sweet as before, but you could sense the need and hunger behind it.

You pulled back, just enough to remove your lips from his. Both of your breaths came in needy pants. You weren’t sure why you were enjoying this, but you were, so you kept going. “He took off my clothes, and laid me down on the bed.”

Patrick moaned, chasing your lips. You sat back and just looked at him— lying there with still-damp curls, his pupils blown with lust. His cock was hard, resting against his stomach, precum beading at the tip.

You pulled off Art’s hoodie and tossed it across the room, relishing in the way Patrick’s eyes raked over every bit of exposed skin like it was the first time he’d seen it. “He ate me out, made me cum on his fingers first, then again while he was inside of me,” Patrick’s breath caught, just for a moment. Desire, or jealousy, or both flickered across his gaze. “He fucked me like he wanted me to fall in love with him again.”

Patrick’s chest was heaving as you moved a hand between your bodies, grasping his cock in your hand, stroking slowly. “Is that how you fucked Tashi? Like you wanted her to pick you instead of her fiancé?” He moaned as your thumb ran over his slit, smearing the precum that had begun to dribble out. 

“No,” He groaned. You nodded encouragingly, squeezing him tighter in your fist. “Fuck. I fucked her like I wanted her to know she made a mistake. Made her cum until she tapped out”

You ran a thumb over his bottom lip, tugging slightly. “With this pretty mouth, huh?” He nodded, wordlessly. “And with this?” You gave a slow stroke of his dick, making him buck up into your fist. Another nod. 

“Show me.”

Patrick’s brows furrowed in disbelief. “Show you?”

You nodded and continued stroking him. “I told you about Art, so I want you to show me how you fucked Tashi.”

You recognized the fucking insanity of what you were asking, but you didn’t care. It was a strange form of closure— closing the circle, or whatever. 

“Fuck, okay. Lay back,” he said, patting your thigh. You slid off his lap and settled atop the sheets, watching him expectantly. 

His fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties, and he slid them down slowly. “Fuck.” Your cheeks flooded with heat as he held the sodden fabric up, wet and sticky with Art’s cum. He groaned and hooked your thighs over his shoulders. “That’s… god, that’s really fucking hot, baby.”

Oh. The mix of embarrassment and desire was something new— burning hot in the pit of your stomach as Patrick licked at your pussy, tasting the evidence of your arousal mingling with Art’s release. He moaned against you, holding you so tightly that his fingers dimpled your thighs. 

His tongue lapped at your entrance, pushing into your cunt as deep as he could manage, then back to licking at your clit. It was messy— a combination of spit and cum and your juices.

“Fuck!” You cried out, tugging his hair as he sealed his lips around your clit. He moaned loudly against you, encouraging you to do it again, the fucking masochist. 

He redoubled his efforts, pulling you closer, moaning against your cunt. It was like he wanted to devour you, to lick up every bit of Art that was left inside of you. You wanted him to try— you wanted him to replace every part of Art that was left in your body and soul.

“Patrick,” you gasped. He murmured an mhmm against your pussy. Eyes closed, right at home between your thighs, lost in the taste of you. “Need you inside.”

He planted one, two sloppy kisses to your clit before he pulled back, his lips shiny with your arousal. He wiped the mess away with the back of his hand, smirking down at you. “You need me, huh?”

You nodded, chest heaving with each panting breath. Patrick sat down at the headboard and patted his thigh. “Prove it.”

You sat up, crawling up the bed until you were straddling his lap. “You made her do all the work?” 

He laughed, running his hands up your thighs to squeeze your ass, tug you closer. “I didn’t make her do anything.” Patrick had a hand wrapped around his cock, and you moaned softly as he guided it between your thighs to notch at your entrance. 

You sank down slowly, forehead pressed against his as you took inch after inch. “Fuck,” you breathed. You leaned forward, brushing your lips against his as you gave a slow roll of your hips. “Fuck. You’re so deep, Pat. Feels so good.”

His head fell back against the headboard as you began to ride him in earnest. “Fuck, just like that,” he groaned, still wearing that fucking smirk, even balls deep inside of you. “That’s it, baby, take what you need.”

And you did. The way he was looking at him was proof enough, he was eating up every fucking second of you fucking yourself on him, using him like a toy. 

Your noises were near-pornographic— Right there, fuck, you’re so big baby, so fucking deep.

The poor soul next door slammed on the wall, begging for you to just shut the fuck up. Patrick silenced you with a hungry kiss— a mess of tongues and spit. His fingers moved on your clit, pulling you towards the edge with desperate need. 

“Close,” you gasped. 

He nodded, moving his fingers faster. “I know you are. I’ve got you.” 

You collapsed on top of him as you came— hips canting weakly as he worked you through it. He thrust up into your tight walls, groaning at the feeling of your cunt spasming around his cock. 

“Fuck, you feel so perfect,” he groaned, burying his face into the junction of your throat. “Gonna cum— fuck—“

You moaned softly at the feeling of him spilling inside of you— the soft pulse of him, the warmth of his cum flooding your cunt. You stayed on his lap, kissing his freckled nose, his eyelids, his mouth. 

When you finally moved off of him, you whimpered at that loss of fullness, and of the slick mess seeping out between your thighs. If you were smart, you would’ve gone and cleaned up, but there was nothing more you wanted than to lay there in Patrick’s arms and fall asleep. 

Whatever. You’d leave housekeeping a very generous tip. He sighed contentedly as you lay there— like you were made to fit against him perfectly.  A warm hand rubbed comforting circles on your back, and you felt so at home, even in an Atlanta hotel. 

“I love you, you know that?” He asked.

You looked up and nodded. “I know. I love you too.”

You found yourself staring up over at Patrick with a stupid, persistent smile on your face. He turned to watch you watching him, wearing a matching grin on his face. It was hard to tell who started laughing first— you or Patrick. At the absurdity of it all, at yourselves. 

“God, we’re so messed up,” you said, with another laugh.

He nodded. “Really messed up, but whatever. Apparently your brain isn’t even fully developed until you’re 25.”

“Great, so we have one more year until we’re normal, rational adults.” He laughed, holding you against his chest. 

He reached over and kissed your forehead. You were so sticky and gross that you really needed a shower, but, again— it was a tomorrow problem.

It fell quiet, and you could feel yourself slipping into comfortable drowsiness when Patrick finally spoke up. “Are we going to be okay?”

You blinked slowly. With your hand resting on his chest, you could feel his heart thudding just beneath your palm.

When you were twenty, you met Patrick’s parents. Crowded into his childhood bed with your head resting against his chest, his heart pounded as he apologized for the intense grilling you’d received that night at dinner. It was the first time you ever felt like his bravado had been shaken, like you were seeing through to the core of him. 

You always knew you would be the one to say you loved him first— it was just the way things went. “I don’t care if they like me,” you had assured him. “I love you.” His heart beat harder, faster. He didn’t say it back until two days later, when he was fucking you in that very same bed— forehead to yours, skin sticky with sweat. “I love you,” breathed into your mouth like air. 

When you were twenty-two, you moved into an apartment in Manhattan and Patrick followed like a housecat— no rent, no job, just company and a mouth to feed. The tour wasn’t going well, and you were working for a shitty, clickbait news site that hardly covered the cost of your place. 

Things were good, mostly. Comfortable, domestic. Patrick tried to be a good boyfriend, you tried to be a good girlfriend. Both of you were trying to figure out what that meant for the other as best as you could. Patrick would bring you flowers from the corner store and take you out for drinks and dancing on weekends. You’d drive out on holidays to visit his family and wind up leaving early to go back to the comforts and peace of your apartment. 

When you could, you’d follow him out to tournaments. If he won, he’d take you out with the prize money. If he lost, you’d take him back to the hotel to cheer him up.

On rough days, one of you would come home to the apartment and pick a fight over laundry, or a dish left in the sink, or even what he’d left on TV, and the other would give it back tenfold. Your neighbors would beat on their walls in annoyance as you yelled at each other, until one of you slammed a door and sulked in another room for a few hours, or you had make-up sex that gave the neighbors another reason to bang on their walls. 

The breakups were infrequent but severe. You’d kick Patrick out, he’d live out of his car, or in a motel, or fuck off to some tennis tournament that you’d previously promised to go to. One of you always broke first, returning to the other with promises of love, and to do better.

You did love each other, really. And things usually got better. It was just easy to live with your feelings dialed up to a ten where Patrick was involved: bigger good moments, worse bad ones. 

Your career had vastly improved. Patrick had moved up in the rankings, only slightly, but it was something. You could afford a bigger apartment in a nicer area, maybe get a dog. And you didn’t just want those things alone, you wanted them with him. 

You pressed a kiss to the center of his chest and nodded. “We’ll be fine,” you assured. It felt like the truth.

He nodded, looking down at you. His freckles were so much more pronounced after tournament after tournament in the blazing sun. “Yeah, probably.”

The next morning, you both got the continental breakfast you’d seen in the elevator while housekeeping dealt with the aftermath of the previous night. You did tourist-y shit— went to a museum, found a nice spot for lunch.

At the end of the day, you sat in the oppressive Atlanta heat with Patrick and watched Art Donaldson win his tennis match. You and Patrick left early, fucked in the backseat of his car, and decided to head home early. 

As you started the drive back, you held his hand over the center console and listened to a shitty mix CD with songs he’d ripped off of LimeWire. You gave him shit when Kelly Clarkson followed Lil Wayne, but you both sang along to every fucking word. 

You were right. You and Patrick would probably be fine.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

experimentation

words: 6.9k

warnings: 18+ only!!!, aged up!sarah (takes place in season 1 but shes 18/19 and rafe is like 22/23 for the fic) smut, lesbian sex, tit play, girl on girl action, scissoring, dildo/sex toys, p in v sex, unprotected sex, blowjob, losing virginity, cheating(ish), reader sleeps with sarah and rafe (not at the same time omg there is NO incest!!), 69ing, female receiving oral, experimenting/unserious?? sex, hooking up to relationship, they say i love you at the end awwww, soft!rafe, i think thats everything jesus christ

it all started with one simple question. sarah sat on the edge of her bed, finishing the top coat of her toenail polish while you braided your mostly dry hair to have loose curls tomorrow.

“have you ever kissed a girl?”

that's all it took. for you to say no, that'd like to,, just to see what it's like, and then to press your lips against sarahs.

you laid in bed together, just kissing. it felt different than any of the guys you've kissed in the past. sarahs lips are softer, sweeter, her tongue gentler when it licks into your mouth.

“do you…” sarah gasps out against your lips. “do you think we could do more?

you blink at her, processing her words and the sudden kiss when you've been just friends for years. 

“just to experiment.” sarah shrugs, looking down to your chest, your nipples hard against your shirt. “i wanna…”

“yeah.” you nod. “lets keep going. just… two friends experimenting.” you smile at her. “having fun.”

you've seen each other naked before, so it's not too much of a shock as you strip down. usually it'd be to pull a swimsuit on or change into a dress, you've never sat and really looked at sarah.

“your… your boobs are so nice.” you giggle softly, her tits sit perfectly, even and plump.

“you wanna touch them?” she asks, looking down at her own body.

“yeah.” you nod quickly, crawling the short distance separating you as you reach out with a gentle hand, gently ghosting around the outside of her breasts before moving closer, cupping her tits and feeling how heavy they are in your hands.

“is it okay if i um… lick them?” you question, staring at her perfect nipples, hard and peaked up, practically begging for you to suck them.

“yeah, as long as i get to do it to you too.” sarah giggles gently.

you bend down, cautiously swiping your tongue over her nipple. sarah gently moans, encouraging you on as you wrap your lips around the bud, sucking gently as your palms massage her tits.

sarah presses a hand against the back of your head, gentle and just slightly pushing you down, keeping you against your chest. you don't fight against it, testing what feels best against your tongue, switching between lapping, sucking and even gently pressing your teeth against her chest.

you leave her nipple with a wet kiss before switching to the other side, repeating the movements.

“god, that… that feels good.” sarah moans out as you pull away with a little giggle.

“that was fun. i wish i had your boobs, seriously.”

“oh, shut up.” sarah laughs. “your's are way better than mine.” she glances down at your body. your chest is smaller than hers, but her gaze doesn't stay there for long as her eyes flick down to where your thighs are pressed together.

“it's not really having sex, right?” sarah glances up to you. “we'll still be virgins just… this doesn’t count since we’re just.. experimenting” .”

“yeah.” you nod. “we're friends, there's nothing wrong with just having some fun.”

“okay.” sarah takes a deep breath before pushing the thought out of her mind, done trying to rationalize the want she feels swelling in her lower stomach.

“lay down.” sarah gestures for you to rest your head on the pillow, which you do slowly, keeping your legs together to not reveal too much too early.

sarah climbs over you as your eyes drift to the ceiling before closing when you feel her mouth on you. she keeps to kisses, pressing them all over your front, from your clavicle down to right above your belly button. 

“i… i wanna eat you out.” sarah says as your eyes blink open, realizing she's hovering over you.

“okay.” you nod, raising your head to give her a kiss, quickly getting lost in the way your lips move against each others.

sarahs hand plays gently with your chest, rubbing over your nipples with her palm, pressing against them with delightful pressure.

you let out a little whine, hips shifting from side to side as you feel your wetness growing. sarah laughs as she looks down at you. “it's okay, im really horny too.”

she gives you another quick peck, verging on friendly, reminding you that all you're doing is testing things out, trying what it's like to be like with a girl, and there's no one better to experiment with than your closest friend.

sarah moves lower, tapping your thigh as you spread them. she makes herself comfortable between them on her stomach.

she pauses, looking between your spread legs at your bare pussy. she hesitates for barely longer than a second before diving in, mouth pressing against your cunt, tongue sneaking out to lick up your wetness.

“oh fuck!” you squeal, hands fisting into the sheets. “fuck, sarah!”

“does that feel good?” she asks, tilting her head to the side, licking her lips to continue to taste you.

“yeah!” you nod rapidly. “really good. keep going, please.”

“okay.” sarah laughs gently again, moving a little slower this time, licking over your folds before swirling her tongue around your clit. she knows what she likes when touching herself, and tries to replicate it with her tongue on you.

you let yourself get lost in the feeling, knowing you should probably dull your moans to not wake up all of tanneyhill, but as you look down between your legs to see sarahs delicate tongue licking against your cunt, your can't control your sounds.

“im gonna finger you.” sarah says, wanting to make sure you know what she's going to do as you rapidly nod. 

she pushes your legs further apart, looking at your entrance as her fingertip slides in, continuing to push into your wet heat until it's buried to the hilt.

“does that feel nice?” she asks.

“really nice. try moving it.” you swallow harshly, your clit needing her mouth back on it.

sarah nods, slowly thrusting her finger in and out, getting used to it as the tempo increases gradually.

“im-im gonna cum once you start eating me out again.” you warn. “i don't know if you want that to happen.”

“of course.” sarah presses her mouth against your leg, kissing your thighs. “isn’t that the whole point of this? well most of it at least” .”

“need you on my clit again then.” you let out a deep breath.

“I got you .” sarah listens quickly, mouth back on your clit as her finger continues, tilting it upward to press right against your sweet spot, making you cry out as her mouth sucks and sucks.

“i-oh my god sarah!” you squeal as your high breaks over the walls, hips pressing up as your entire body shakes, cunt clenching around her finger. sarah licks up your slick before taking a deep breath.

“you actually taste good.” she hums, pulling her finger out and pressing it between her cheeks, sucking the digit like it's a lollipop, swirling her tongue to get the taste off.

“that felt really good too.” you blush, cheeks heating up. “what do you want me to do to you?”

“we should try scissoring.” sarah says. “ive seen it in porn.”

“is that where you got all these ideas from?” you ask, eyebrows raising up.

“yeah.” she nods. “it's hot without guys.”

for the first time, you realize sarah may be looking for more than just a night of fun, and might genuinely see you as someone she's attracted to. you don't have much time to delve deeper as she spreads your thighs, placing her own wet pussy against yours.

“im just gonna-” sarah let's out a gasp as her face twists in pleasure, your bare cunts bumping against each other's as her hips move.

“oh, fuck! sarah!” you squeal. you push yourself up to sit, beginning to move as well, rubbing against her thigh and occasionally her pussy as sarah does the same thing to you, her mouth slackened and tits jigging with every movement.

you long to reach forward and have your mouth around them again, but you're determined to have sarah reach that high that she brought you too.

you tip her back so you can do all the work, grinding and grinding until her whole body tenses up as she cums with a low moan of your name.

you flop back against the bed, sarah crawling in a moment to also place her head on the pillow.

“that was fun.” she says, chest still rising and falling rapidly.

you nod. “we should do that again.”

--

“well look who it is.” rafe smirks at you, placing a hand on your lower back. “none other than y/n l/n.”

“hey rafey.” you giggle. you have a bit of a love hate relationship with rafe. you bickered a lot when you were younger, but when a guy was messing with you in high school, you went right to rafe who quickly sorted it out.

“you look so pretty in this dress.” he says, tugging you towards the dance floor, a mess of bodies twisting and grinding.

you see rafe often when you're hanging out with sarah, but she stayed home from the party due to a headache, so it's a rare time alone without his sibling.

“dance with me?” he asks, pressing his lips against your ear.

you nod. just because you're fooling around with sarah shouldn't stop you from exploring other options, after all, she's half-dating topper despite diving between your legs during sleepovers.

rafe moves in tempo to the music. you dance back against him, grabbing his hands which are respectfully by his side to place on your hips.

“im not a kid anymore, rafe.” you close the distance between your bodies so rafe is grinding right into your bum. you can feel what's growing in his pants, a slight smile on your face.

“yeah, but you're my little sisters friend. just because i wanna fuck you doesn't mean-”

you turn around suddenly, not waiting to hear the rest of what he has to say. “you wanna fuck me?”

“of course.” rafe smirks, hand trailing down from your lower back to squeeze your ass.

“fuck me then.” you place your hands on his neck, pulling him down into a harsh kiss. the party is at toppers house, so you assume rafe knows how to get you alone as you follow him through the house until you're in a guest bedroom.

“promise you won't tell sarah?” he says, not wanting to deal with her shit for sleeping with you.

“i won't as long as you don't.” you say, knowing rafe doesn't realize how sarah would be just as upset with you too, for sleeping with her brother while you're fooling around with her on the side.

rafe nods, satisfied that this will be a secret as he pulls you against him. his hand grips your ass as his mouth devours yours, so much stronger than sarahs felt against yours. he's harsh, demanding and unforgiving.

your hands fist in his shirt, partially to hold yourself up as his lips attack yours. he slowly steps further into the room until the back of your knees hit the bed.

“take that dress off.” rafe grunts out. “let me see that perfect body.”

you pull your dress off, revealing the small matching set of lingerie you have on underneath. rafe let's out a growl, like a predator who finally got it's prey as he turns you around to face the bed before pushing you down so you flop onto your stomach.

“such a nice ass, kid.” rafe swats your barely covered bum. “anyone ever told you that before?”

“nnnnn.” you hum out as an answer, mouth half pressed into the mattress.

rafe suddenly pauses. “you're not a virgin are you?”

he waits, and when you don't answer, he knows the truth. 

“shit.” he groans. “listen, i want you but im not gonna have you lose your virginity at a random party, okay?”

“no, i want it rafe.” you flip over so you're on your back, pouting your lower lip out as you look up at him. “really, i do.”

“and ill take your virginity, but not here, not tonight. when you're not drunk and when i can lay you out and not worry about people barging in on us.”

“okay.” you pout with a slow nod. you're not drunk, but you have had a couple sips of beer, and you understand why rafe is hesitant. “but can we still do something tonight?”

“yeah? you wanna suck my dick or something?” rafe smirks down at you, not expecting you to nod enthusiastically and slink off the bed onto your knees.

“you sure?” he questions. “you don't have to. we could just make out or i could finger you-”

“come here.” you reach out to rafe, tugging him closer by the loops on his pants. you waste no time undoing the button and zipper and pulling the fabric down.

you would feel a lot less confident if you haven't been experimenting with sarah, getting to learn how to use your mouth for pleasure, even though it's a bit different now that it's her brothers dick.

“damn, baby.” rafe groans when you press kisses along his length, wetting his underwear until you get sick of the barrier and tug them down.

rafes cock is already hardened and pops up to hit you on the tip of your nose.

“ouch.” you frown, brows furrowing together when rafe let's out a laugh.

you don't allow him to continue laughing at you as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock, sinking down until you feel yourself gag. you pull up only to push your head back down, determined to make this good for rafe.

“shit- fuck!” rafe shouts out, placing a hand on the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair, ruining the curls you spent so long perfecting.

you hollow out your cheeks as you suck, tongue swirling around the underside of his cock. you cant go all the way down without his cock going too deep in your throat, so you wrap a hand around the base, gently stroking as your mouth works.

“shit!” rafe hisses out again. “you've done this before, haven't you?”

“nope.” you pull away with a pop. “just like your dick.”

you press a kiss against the head of his cock. it's wet and sloppy with precum and spit, but you don't care. 

“come over this weekend so i can fuck you, yeah?” rafe says. you nod before sinking your lips back down over his cock, not thinking in the moment that you'd already made plans with sarah.

--

“i got something.” sarah whispers, giving you a wink.

“what?” you lean in, waiting for her to whisper in your ear, but she just shakes her head, a mischievous look on her face.

“you'll see later.” she takes a bite of her pizza, rolling her eyes as rafe walks in.

“hey.” he grins at you, his smile stretching wide as he grabs a piece of pizza from the open box. “how you doing y/n?”

“leave my friend alone, rafe!” sarah says, making you giggle.

“im doing well rafe, how are you?”

he just nods and smiles, knowing that you're going to sneak out of sarahs room just like you'd planned after sucking him off at the party, where he came deep down your throat.

rafe manages to ghost his fingers along your back as he leaves, but not before taking another piece of pizza.

“god, he's such a dick.” sarah rolls her eyes.

you just nod. arguing about it would certainly give yourself away, and you're not willing to risk ruining sleeping with either of them. even though you're just fooling around with sarah, and it will surely stop when she gets a boyfriend, you're having a lot of fun for now. it makes you feel closer to her, like this is a secret you'll carry together for a long time. you even imagine drunkenly spilling it to your husbands twenty years from now when you're both happily married off.

you go through the motions like normal, finishing eating, saying goodnight to ward before disappearing into sarahs room. it's not until the door closes and locks behind you that there's a shift.

sarah immediately begins to strip, clearly eager and waiting for this moment. you follow her actions until you're both nude. if you thought you were comfortable being naked around her before, it's only increased since fooling around together.

“okay, look under the blanket.” sarah says. you didn't even realize a fluffy blanket had been obviously draped over something. you pull the fabric away to reveal a pink dildo. your eyes widen as you look to sarah.

“you bought a dildo?” you hiss out, a smile coming to her face as she eagerly nods.

“you gotta use it on me, oh my god. please, y/n?” she pouts. “there's this guy i like and… and i think i might give it up to him.”

“topper?” you question, surprised because it seems like she's been distancing herself from him.

sarah just smiles shyly. “oh my god, who?” you squeal.

“i really can't tell.” sarah says. she doesn't know your opinion on john b, and doesn't want to risk upsetting you.

“fine, then you don't know who i might be giving it up to.” you shrug, flopping down onto the bed as you pick up the dildo, inspecting it.

“you what?” sarah asks, her eyes wide.

“if you wanna keep secrets, i can to.” you shrug. in truth, you'd never tell her that it's her brother. you're not even sure you'd admit it to sarah if you were ten years down the line and married to rafe. your friendship is too precious, and you know she'd be extremely upset.

“ugh, fine.” sarah crosses her arms, lifting her boobs up in a way that has you licking your lips. 

“get over here.” it's all you have to say for sarah to climb onto the bed, your mouth attaching to her chest the second she's close enough.

you suck and play with her tits while you fool around with the dildo, putting it between her legs but just running it through her folds.

you're nowhere near done with her tits when sarah gently pushes your head lower. you let out a whine but ultimately concede.

“im just nervous to have it inside me.” sarah admits. “anxious.”

“it's okay.” you coo out as she lays back, spreading her legs. “ill help you out and go slow, that's what friends are for afterall.” you shrug.

you decide it'll be best to start with your finger as you press your digit into her. she's so wet you can easily thrust it in and out, but you still use your other hand to rub at her clit, just to relax sarah even more.

“you ready?” you question after rubbing for a while.

“mhm.” she whines out, chest moving up and down, partly from nerves and partly from pleasure.

you pull your finger out and grab the dildo again. you take a moment to rub the entire length against her, getting it thoroughly wet before pressing the head of the fake cock against her entrance. you move slowly as you push it in, watching her pussy bloom around it.

“fuck, sarah.” you moan out. “this is hot.”

“come sit on my face.” sarah says, her eyebrows scrunched together in concentration, needing the distraction of eating out your pussy.

“mmkay.” you hold the dildo pushed inside of her as you swing your hips over, briefly hovering your pussy over her face. you begin to lower slowly, only for sarah to grab your hips and slam your cunt down onto her awaiting tongue.

you let out a soft moan, eyes sliding shut as her mouth works against your folds. you finally remember that you need to move when her tongue thrusts into your cunt.

you blink out the haze of pleasure as you start to move the dildo gently in and out, moaning slightly at the slick noises, wet and sloppy as you thrust it inside of her.

“harder.” sarah says against your skin, voice vibrating over your pussy.

you speed up the movements of your hand, pushing in harder and faster. you drop your mouth to her pussy as well, needing to taste her against your tongue as you lick around her entrance before moving up to her clit.

“shit.” sarah moans out, hands squeezing harder at your thighs. you hope they don't bruise as you'll have to explain it to rafe later.

you move as fast as your arm will allow, bicep cramping up as you focus in on her clit, sucking as intensely as you can until you feel a rush of wetness gushing out of sarahs cunt. you pull the dildo out as she squirts, wetting the sheets.

“fuck!” sarah shouts. you're glad that the walls in tanneyhill are mostly soundproof.

“holy shit that was hot.” you giggle. you go to move from hovering over her body, but sarahs hands are rough on your hips as her mouth delves back in, wasting no time teasing as she flicks her tongue over your clit until your own high bursts, your cunt pressing into her mouth, wetting her face.

you flop to the side with a loud sigh, both equally satiated. 

sarah moves to press a sweet kiss to your lips. “thanks for trying that with me.”

“of course.” you smile, kissing her again, mouth devouring hers.

“im so tired now though.” she giggles before letting out a yawn.

“sleep, it's okay.” you coo out. you both roll away slightly from each other, adjusting to get comfortable on the bed and pillows as sarah is quickly snoring. you keep yourself awake, occasionally glancing over until you're sure she's been asleep long enough to not easily wake.

you slide out of the bed, keeping your movements as quietly as you possibly can as you sneak into the bathroom, wetting a washcloth and quickly cleaning yourself off so you don't already smell like sex.

you slip nothing but a robe on before tiptoeing out of sarahs room. you'd be absolutely fucked if ward or rose found you, but you rely on the hope that it's late enough for them not to be roaming the hallways.

you don't knock as you arrive at rafes room, opening the door and slipping in before locking it behind you.

“jesus, i thought you'd never come.” rafe stands quickly, cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, hot and wet as your hands press against his abs, running up and down against his muscles.

“sorry, sarah took forever to fall asleep.” you whisper against his lips. your eyebrows rise when he reaches down, lifting you easily to move you towards the bed.

you're glad rafe is just in his underwear, not wanting to wait before you get his cock inside of you, especially after seeing how much sarah liked the dildo.

you feel dirty sleeping with your best friends brother right after fooling around with her, but the thoughts quickly dissipate as rafe tugs on the belt of the robe, parting the two sides to reveal your completely nude body.

“fuck, baby. you're trying to kill me with those perfect tits.” rafe bends to drop his mouth around your nipple, toying with them in a way that's so different to sarah. she focuses on your pleasure, what feels good to you, while rafes movements are purely for him, doing what he wishes to without too much consideration for you, especially as his teeth sink into the plumpness of your breast.

you loop your legs around his hips, pulling him in until your crotches bump together. you grind your hips up and down, wetting his underwear as your clit brushes over the soft fabric.

“shit.” rafe groans, reaching down to push his underwear down his thighs.

you keep grinding, his bare cock now slipping through your folds, getting it significantly lubricated. rafes cock catches on your entrance just as his tongue flicks over your nipple. your back arches off the bed with a loud moan as he pushes in halfway, taking your virginity in one smooth motion.

“w-wait!” you squeal out.

rafe looks up, a worried look on his face as he pulls his cock out of you. “what's wrong?”

“condom!” you say. “im not on anything.”

rafe frowns. “we gotta get you on birth control so i can cum inside of you.”

“you wanna keep fucking me?” you ask with a smile as he moves to his nightstand, grabbing out a condom and tearing open the foil.

“of course.” rafe looks at you like it's obvious as he rolls the rubber down over his cock. “i swear im gonna take you out on dates and shit too.”

“rafey you've gone soft.” you giggle as he leans over the bed again, cock lined up with your pussy again. you clench around nothing, waiting to have him back inside.

“had a crush on you forever.” he says, pressing a kiss against your lips. “just couldn't do anything with sarah always around.”

you hum, shifting your hips from side to side. you don't want to talk about your best friend, you want rafe to fuck you, even if your pussy is already sensitive from your earlier orgasm with sarah.

“tell me if it hurts or im going too fast.” rafe gives you one last sweet kiss before his entire demeanor changes. he pushes his cock into you with a grunt, giving you only the smallest moment to adjust before he begins to move.

his cock pushes in and out, in and out, his balls slapping against you with every movement. you're forced to do nothing but lay back and moan, trying to keep yourself quiet as he pummels you.

rafe straightens up, pulling your hips to the edge of the bed as he stands, using as much force as he can to fuck into you, knowing he probably should go gentler for your first time, but he can't help himself.

“oh my god, rafe!” you squirm, hands seeking to grip onto something until you settle for one hand over his, the one securely holding your waist, while your other hand fists in his sheets.

rafe pushes his thumb against your clit, determined to make you cum quickly for the first time you're together, not knowing that you're already sensitive from cumming earlier in the day.

“p-please.” you whine out. you're not even sure what you're pleading for as tears well in your eyes from the pure pleasure of how hard and good rafe is fucking you.

“you close baby?” he coos out, a smirk gracing his features, seeing just how fucked out and lost in his cock you are.

“yeah.” you nod rapidly. “real close.”

rafe somehow manages to move faster, cock pushing into you at a rapid pace while his thumb flicks aggressively over your clit until your high breaks, back arching off the bed as your cunt pulses around rafes cock, triggering his own orgasm as he buries himself to the hilt, cumming deep inside of you, wishing there wasn't the barrier of the condom so he could truly flood you.

rafe collapses forward against you, both breathing heavily. he pulls out carefully but doesn't move enough to discard his condom yet, letting his cock soften against your lower stomach.

“that was really good.” you admit shyly.

rafe smiles gently then kisses you, hands gently petting your sides, before moving down to your thighs, rubbing and making sure you're relaxed.

“i have to get back to sarah.” you say with a pout.

“shit, you're right.” rafe frowns, standing straight and pulling the condom off, tossing it in the trash before readjusting his underwear to cover himself.

“come here.” you reach your arms out, giving rafe another kiss before you do up your robe and stand with slightly wobbly legs.

“y/n.” rafe says, cupping your cheek before you head towards the door. “im serious about taking you out on a date.”

“i know.” you giggle softly, getting on your tiptoes to give him a final goodnight kiss before slipping away, thankful sarah is still fast asleep when you make it back inside her room.

--

“i lost it.” sarah whispers to you, a genuine smile on her face.

“oh my god!” you whisper-scream, noting the way several of the older people scattered around turn to look at you.

“with topper?” you question, tugging sarah away from the crowd.

“no.” she admits shyly. “with uh… with someone else.”

“girl, who?” you ask, finding a random empty room in the country club and stepping inside.

“i can't say-” 

“holy shit, is it john b?” your eyes widen and judging by sarahs reaction, you figured out the right person.

you knew about john b staying at tanneyhill, it's why you've been avoiding it lately and not seeing sarah as much. you didn't mind john b, but prefered to keep your distance, especially since ward was only looking after him because he had charges brought against him that ward was able to help out with.

“isn't he dangerous?”

“no.” she shakes her head quickly, a blush ghosting over her face as she smiles. “he's… the sweetest guy. and so funny.”

“but didn't he…” you trail off.

“oh, no.” she shakes her head rapidly again. “he's innocent. he was falsely accused, that's why dad took him in.”

“okay…” you shrug. “as long as you're happy girl, ill support you.”

“this is why you're my best friend.” sarah says, wrapping her arms around your shoulders, pulling you in for a tight hug. “thanks for helping me with everything. i felt so confident when we finally did it.”

“yeah, im gonna need details.” you giggle. you should tell sarah that you lost it to, but the excitement sparking in her eye makes you hesitate.

--

you frown as you walk into tanneyhill, looking around for sarah before you bump into rafe, literally, as you round a corner not hearing is footsteps and crash straight into him.

“shit.” rafe curses, hands coming to your shoulders, looking you up and down. “you okay?”

“mhm.” you nod. “i just don't know where sarah is. i texted her and she didn't respond and she's not here.”

“she's probably with that pogue.” rafe frowns, shaking his head slightly from side to side. “but now that you're here…” 

you can't help the smile that spreads over your cheeks. “what about that date you promised me on?” you question. you've slept with rafe several times since that first night, but whenever you made plans to go out, things got interrupted, either by ward or sarah.

“ill take you wherever you want to go, princess.” rafe slings his arm around your shoulder, leading you out towards the door. you didn't prepare for a date, but it's not like rafe hasn't seen practically every dress in your closet.

“how about just to dinner?” you loop your arm around his back, resting your hand on his waist. “i want you.”

rafe throws his head back in a laugh. “someone is needy.”

ever since you stopped also getting off with sarah since she got serious with john b, you've relied solely on rafe to fulfill your urges. 

it feels more natural than being with sarah, but at the same time more serious. you're thinking something could genuinely come out of your time with rafe, whereas you know sarah was only there for experimenting, for fun.

dinner goes by smoother than you could have imagined, rafe on his best behavior to impress you, taking extra care in doing every gentlemanly thing possible, whether it's opening doors for you or pulling out your chair, even going as far as to tell the waiter your order, already knowing your preferences and that you don't like talking to strangers.

by the time you get back to tanneyhill, you're giggly and anxious to get alone with rafe. what you don't expect is to see sarah standing there in the hallway, eyes wide as she sees the way rafe has you tucked against him.

“sarah, let me explain.” you say, but she turns away and runs to her room before you can get another word out.

“baby, just let her go-” rafe says, but you're already chasing after her.

“ill be back, promise!” you call as you dash up the stairs, managing to make it into sarahs room before she locks the door.

“seriously?” she shouts. “of all people, you sleep with my brother?”

“sarah…” you say cautiously, seeing how upset she is, how fast her chest is heaving up and down. “we just had our first date. it just… came out of nowhere. i really like him though. its not that different than you and john b.”

“dont bring him up right now.” she hisses out. “this is different! you were messing around with me and my brother?”

“no!” you lie. you know its wrong, but theres no way sarah would ever find out you were sleeping with both of them, and you want to preserve her feelings as much as you can. “this was our first date tonight. we haven’t done anything, but sarah-” you make sure shes looking at you, making eye contact. “we will. and you have to be okay with that, just like i was okay with you getting with john b.”

sarah lets out a deep sighs before nodding. “im sorry. you’re right. i just… i just liked having both of you. i know we were just experimenting, but it felt so good to be close to you like that.”

you move forward, wrapping your arms around her shoulders in a tight hug. “you’re always gonna have me, sarah. that’s what best friends are for.”

“i love you.” she says honestly. “youre a great friend, i was just… shocked.”

“its okay.” you say honestly. “hes your brother, we fooled around, youre allowed to be weirded out.”

“why don’t you take a few days? ill leave you be and you can just… adjust.” you know this won’t be the end of your friendship, youre too close, gone through too much.

“thank you.” sarah squeezes you back. “ill talk to you soon.”

“take your time.” you say, hesitating slightly before pressing a kiss against her lips. she may be with a guy now, and you may be with rafe, but that’ll never change what you’ve done. 

you turn to leave, to allow sarah to process her emotions in peace when she calls out to you. “y/n?” 

you turn back around to look, a soft smile on your face that quickly turns into a laugh as she says “can you and rafe just not be too loud? i dont need to hear you banging.”

--

“rafe?” you whisper, stepping into his room to see him sitting on the edge of the bed, head hung low. “hey, rafe.”

“please, just go.” rafe sighs, looking up at you. thats when you see the tears in his eyes, not yet running down his cheeks, but gathering there like dew drops on grass.

“its okay.” he waves his hand. “you’re leaving me, i get it. leaving for her just like everyone else does.”

“what?” you question, shutting the door behind you and locking it.

“im not leaving you. i came back because sarah is fine. im not gonna give up what we have.” you cross quickly to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pulling him forward, allowing his face to press into your stomach.

rafe wraps his arms around your thighs, letting out a sigh of relief as he presses a kiss against your tummy, over the sweatshirt that you’re wearing that's actually his, given to you after the sun and temperature dropped.

“come here, please.” rafe tugs at your hand as you move to straddle him, sitting on his lap as rafes mouth finds yours, lips moving over yours softly, allowing you to relax into the sweet kiss and into his body, slumping against his chest.

“i want you.” you whisper against his lips. “i want you bare. no condom.”

“baby, your birth control doesn’t start yet-”

“i dont care. ill take a plan b in the morning. i want you inside me, please rafey.” 

rafe nods quickly, he’s certainly not going to argue when he’s been waiting so long to fill you up.

“whatever you want, baby.” he’s determined in that moment to give you absolutely everything you ask for, from this point on.

rafe moves, easily picking you up to lay you on your back on the bed. his mouth captures yours and doesn’t leave it as his hands move over your body, cupping your breasts, pressing against your waist, and then disappearing under your clothes.

he only breaks the kiss to allow your sweatshirt and shirt to be removed, pulling it over your head and tossing it away. as much as rafe longs to wrap his lips around your nipple, he keeps his mouth on yours and settles for his fingers and hands to toy with your chest.

rafe works his pants off and then yours, pressing his body down as your thighs spread, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinds into you.

“i-i need you so bad baby.” rafe hates to admit that his cock is painfully hard, straining out to have you.

“you have me.” you whisper against his lips, tugging your underwear to the side as you pull his cock out. you don’t even care to undress any further, rubbing his cock through your folds before letting go when you line him up with your entrance. 

rafe pushes in slowly, carefully, like hes giving you a chance to change your mind. when you just let out a moan, he begins to speed up. despite his thrusts being fast and hard, theres a gentleness to it, an air of romance as he takes you.

his hands travel all over your body, like hes trying to memorize every inch of you with his palms. 

you’re thankful for rafes lips against yours, swallowing your moans as you think of sarah sitting in her room, processing her best friend sleeping with her brother. the best friend that she had her first sexual experience with, now on the verge of cumming thanks to rafes cock.

“close. are you sure you want me inside?” rafe asks. you nod quickly. “please, want you to fill me up.”

“you got it baby.” rafe grunts as he moves. you feel his cock swell inside of you and your eyes widen, not used to the feeling as his cum begins to pump into you, filling you to the brim as rafe moans above you.

“you okay?” rafe asks, his chest heaving, high still working through his body, but wanting to reassure you.

“yeah.” you lean up to kiss him. “so good.”

--

“what did you tell him?” sarah asks. 

rafe walks in with a smile on his face, but it quickly drops when john b steps through the other entrance.

“that we were going on a double date, i didn’t say with who.” you giggle. “what did you tell john b?”

“just to meet me here for dinner.” sarah shrugs. your boyfriend's don't have to get along, but they at least need to be decent enough to each other to not care when you and sarah hang out.

“oh shit.” you both stand quickly from your booths, making your way over to your respected partners.

“baby-” you warn him.

“fuck no.” he crosses his arms. “im not doing on a double date with my sister and that prick.”

“yes you are. because im asking you very nicely and ill give you head in the car on the way home.” you place your hands on his chest, a pleading look in your eye as your bottom lip sticks out.

“fine.” rafe grunts out. “but im not gonna pretend to be nice to him.”

the restaurant thankfully doesn't explode into a fight, but rafe and john b barely mutter a single word, which is fine by you and sarah as you spend the entire time gossiping before parting ways. you leave with rafe while she gets into the twinkie.

“thanks for being such a good boyfriend.” you say, bending over the center console to give rafe a kiss on the cheek. “now do you want me to suck you off in the parking lot, or while you drive us home?”

“while i drive so i can fuck you as soon as we're back.” rafe grunts out.

rafe cums twice down your throat in the drive back home, but he's still not satisfied as he drags you up to his room, not even allowing you to do anything other than give rose a quick wave in form of a greeting before rushing up the stairs.

“you're lucky i love you, i wanted to punch that fucking pogue in the face.” rafe grunts out as he starts tearing away your clothing. he notices you standing completely still and stops, wondering if he pushed things too far.

“you just said you love me.” 

rafe blinks, realizing that the words did slip. “of course i love you.”

you let out a loud whine before wrapping your arms around his shoulders. “you love me! my rafey baby has gone so soft, omg!”

“okay, you're being ridiculous and im trying to fuck you.” rafe rolls his eyes dramatically as you coo and pinch at his cheeks until he swats your hands away.

you allow rafe to push you back onto the bed as you stare up at him with a smile on your face. “hey.” you tap his cheek, slightly blushed red from embarrassment of letting the words slip. “i love you too.”

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[joelmillerisapunk]

Moth to a Flame

Firefighter!Joel Miller x F!Reader

Masterlist

Wordcount: 6,877

Summary: During a fire station training session, seasoned firefighter Joel Miller becomes entranced by a volunteer's poise and spirit. When you lose your cherished nanna's ring in the hustle and bustle, Joel seizes the opportunity to return it.

Warnings: 18+, unprotected p in v, male masturbation, soft but dom!Joel, light alcohol consumption, f!oral receiving, reader wears a dress.

Notes: Tysm @joelslegalwhre for being the most incredible human and beta 💖 tysm @saradika-graphics for the divider

In the golden embrace of the morning sun, the fire station pulsates with an electric anticipation. The air is thick with the scent of determination and the metallic tang of polished trucks standing at attention. Joel Miller, a firefighter with a decade of scars and stories etched into his soul, feels the familiar rush of adrenaline as he prepares for the day's training session with live volunteers. The heat, the weight of his gear, and the omnipresent smoke are his constants, his companions in a dance with danger that defines his existence. Yet amidst this orchestrated chaos, a new melody captures Joel's attention. You stand there, signing waivers, a vision of delicate strength wrapped in an aura of grace. Your eyes sparkle as bright as the ring on your finger with a blend of trepidation and thrill. There's an undeniable resilience in your gaze, and in this moment, Joel is certain, he yearns to unravel the story behind those eyes.

As you slip into character for the training exercise, your performance is nothing short of mesmerizing. You become the embodiment of someone caught in tragedy's grip, each flinch and strained breath echoing through Joel's heart like a siren's call. The world around him blurs into insignificance; all that remains is you—a beacon amidst smoke and shadows.

Joel watches you intently as you navigate through simulated wreckage with elegance despite your role as an injured victim. Your portrayal is hauntingly authentic; it stirs something within him that goes beyond professional admiration—it touches on something deeply human and profoundly connective. With every second that passes, Joel feels himself being drawn deeper into your orbit, captivated by your enigmatic presence and vibrant spirit that shines even in play-acted despair.

As Joel moves closer to you during these drills designed to hone their skills, he finds himself longing not just for safety but also for connection.

———

As the echoes of the day's training drills dissipate into the quiet corners of the fire station, a stillness settles over the scene. The once vibrant cacophony of shouts and machinery now gives way to a serene hush, as if the very building itself exhales a sigh of relief.

In this newfound calm, Joel's gaze falls upon a glimmering object nestled against the concrete floor. He stoops down, his gloved fingers encircling the small, radiant treasure. It's your ring—the same one you wore when you first walked in, its presence etched in his memory from when you signed those waivers with such care. The ring looks well-traveled, its metal worn smooth by countless days and nights on your finger.

With a sense of purpose, Joel secures the ring in his pocket. He hastens through his post-training routine, shedding the day's sweat and grime under the cleansing spray of the station's shower before gathering his belongings to depart. But there's an unfinished task that weighs on his mind, one that cannot wait until tomorrow.

Approaching Beatrice's desk with a warm smile playing on his lips, he prepares to make his request known. "Beatrice," he begins affectionately, "my favorite admin."

She looks up from her paperwork and returns his smile with one of her own. "Joel Miller," she says with a hint of playfulness in her voice. "What brings you to my corner of chaos today?"

He chuckles lightly at her jest and nods towards her computer screen where he knows she keeps all their records meticulously organized. "Actually," Joel confesses earnestly, "I need your help trackin’ down my victim from today's exercise." He gently takes the ring from the safety of his pocket and holds it up for Beatrice to see. "She dropped somethin’ quite precious during all that commotion.”

"No problem at all, Joel," she chirps, her voice as bright as the sun filtering through the station windows. "Just give me a moment."

"Thank you, darlin’," Joel responds gratefully, his own smile mirroring hers as he waits for the information that will bridge the gap between him and you. The seconds tick by in anticipation, each one carrying the promise of an imminent reunion that stirs his heart more than any fire ever could.

———

As Joel strides toward your neighborhood, the address scribbled on the post-it note seems to pulse with a rhythm that matches his quickening heartbeat. The discovery that you live just a few blocks away from him in this cozy enclave feels like a serendipitous twist of fate. With each step he takes, the anticipation builds within his chest, a fluttering sensation that's both exhilarating and unfamiliar.

The trees lining the sidewalk whisper secrets as he passes, their leaves rustling in the gentle breeze. He navigates the familiar streets with a newfound sense of purpose, each step bringing him closer to your front door—and to the mystery that is you.

Upon reaching your home, Joel pauses for a moment to collect his thoughts. The facade of the house seems to reflect his own nervous energy back at him. He takes a deep breath and ascends the front steps, his heart pounding with an intensity he hasn't felt in years.

With a trembling hand, he reaches out to press the doorbell, but before he can, the door swings open. There you stand, framed by the doorway and bathed in soft afternoon light. Your yellow sundress adorned with white flowers accentuates your silhouette, while an intricate silver chain with two delicate pendant charms rests against your skin—a subtle allure that captivates him instantly.

"Hello?" you inquire cautiously, your expression one of mild confusion—a sign that perhaps you don't remember him as vividly as he remembers you from just hours before at the fire station drill.

"Hey there," Joel begins with an attempt at casualness that belies his racing pulse and slightly unsteady voice. He clears his throat and steadies himself before continuing, "I'm Joel from earlier today—the fire department training session." His hand instinctively lifts to present your ring between two fingers for you to see. "I believe this belongs to you."

Your eyes widen in surprise and relief as recognition dawns on your face—a beautiful tableau of emotions playing across it like sunlight dancing on water's surface. "My nanna's ring!" You exclaim softly while gently accepting it back into your care with delicate fingers poised between reverence and joy at its recovery.

The gratitude shining in your eyes is palpable as they meet his once more over this small but significant reunion of yours with such precious memories attached. Your words of gratitude hang in the air like a sweet melody, and with a gentle tug, you pull Joel into a warm embrace. "Thank you," you say softly against his shoulder, "you have no idea what this ring means to me. I thought it was lost forever."

As the hug comes to an end, you step back, your gaze drifting toward the interior of your home before returning to meet Joel's eyes. There's a sincerity in your voice that's impossible to ignore as you extend an invitation that catches him off guard. "I was just making dinner. Would you like to join me? It's the least I can do after you've returned something so precious."

Joel's hand instinctively moves to the back of his neck, a sign of his nervousness as he contemplates your offer. "Wouldn't wanna impose," he replies hesitantly.

"Not at all," you assure him with a reassuring smile. "It's just spaghetti and meatballs—nothing fancy."

The mention of a home-cooked meal stirs something within Joel. His demanding schedule often leaves him with little time for such simple pleasures, and the prospect of enjoying one now is unexpectedly enticing.

"If it's not too much trouble ma'am."

You catch the slightest wince in Joel's expression as the word "ma'am" slips from his lips, and you can't help but tease him a little. "Please, ma'am makes me sound like some old spinster," you say with a light-hearted laugh. You introduce yourself by name before extending your hand in greeting. You step back, holding the door open, an unspoken invitation for him to cross the threshold into the warmth of your abode.

Joel pauses, a momentary hesitation before he steps inside, his senses are immediately greeted by the intoxicating aroma of home-cooked food that fills every corner of the house. “Smells delicious," he remarks, his voice tinged with anticipation.

"Hope it tastes even better," you reply with a smile, gesturing around you. "Please, make yourself at home. Mi casa es tu casa, or whatever it is."

As you lead him through the foyer, he takes in the cozy living room, a space that feels both personal and welcoming. The walls are adorned with photographs—snapshots of your life, your loved ones, and cherished memories. A stack of books on the coffee table hints at your eclectic tastes, while a vibrant bouquet of fresh flowers adds a touch of elegance and freshness to the room.

You guide Joel to the kitchen, where he takes a seat at the island, a central hub of domestic activity. You head to the refrigerator, pulling out a couple of beers. "Drink?" you ask, holding one out for him.

You watch as Joel's eyes flicker with a hint of surprise, perhaps at the contrast between the expected glass of wine and the down-to-earth beer in your hand. "Didn't take ya for a beer girl," he comments, a playful challenge in his tone.

You let out a small giggle, the sound mingling with the clink of bottles. "My parents are the wine connoisseurs," you explain, rolling your eyes good-naturedly. "I keep beer on hand just to stir the pot. They turn their noses up at it, call it a 'poor man's drink,' but I love the simplicity. No need for fancy glasses or decanting—just open and enjoy." You twist off the cap and take a sip, your expression one of contentment. "It's my little rebellion."

Joel can’t help but smirk as he sips his beer. You lift your drink and take a refreshing sip before you set it gently on the counter. Turning your attention back to the stove, you tend to the sauce, stirring with a practiced hand, the rich aroma filling the kitchen and mingling with the yeasty scent of the beer.

Joel takes a long drink from his beer, the bottle cool against his lips as he watches you move gracefully around the kitchen. He's a sweet man, the kind who would offer the shirt off his back without a second thought. Yet, beneath that kindness lies a deep-seated longing—a desire to find someone like you to make his wife, to be the heart of his home.

As he observes you, his mind begins to weave elaborate fantasies. He imagines himself returning from a grueling day of battling flames, the anticipation building as he envisions you waiting for him in your charming sundress and apron, bent over as you retrieve dinner from the oven. In his mind's eye, you're sans panties, a detail that sends a thrill through him.

His pants begin to stir with this thought, an involuntary twitch that betrays his growing arousal. The fantasy escalates; he sees himself approaching you from behind with his erection straining against the fabric of his jeans. He imagines grabbing your hips and plunging into you with one swift motion, filling you completely as your moans of pleasure echo in his ears. The scenario is tantalizingly vivid, and it fuels the hardening of his cock, which now presses urgently against his denim confines.

The fantasy lingers too long—a delicious torment that has him shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He takes another swig of beer in hopes of quelling the fire that burns within him, all while keeping his gaze fixed on you.

You're oblivious to the storm of desire raging across from you as you stir the sauce on the stove and speak over the hum of the fan. Your voice is soft and inviting when you apologize for the noise and offer Joel another beer from the fridge—a gesture so simple yet so full of warmth.

Then it happens; as if by some unspoken cue in this erotic dance between reality and fantasy, you bend down to take out the garlic bread you've prepared. The hem of your sundress lifts just enough for Joel to catch sight of what he's been imagining; no panties—a confirmation that sets his heart racing and sends a jolt straight to his groin.

"Shit..." he murmurs under his breath while subtly trying to adjust himself in an attempt to conceal his burgeoning erection beneath the tablecloth draped over your dining table. "Mind if I use your restroom?" Joel asks hurriedly, striving for normalcy despite feeling anything but normal at this moment.

You turn around with a smile that lights up your face like a sunrise over calm waters—warm and welcoming without even realizing how much more fuel it adds to Joel's fiery imagination. “Of course, just down the hall, first door on the left."

"Thanks," Joel manages to say, his voice betraying a hint of awkwardness as he rises from his chair. He quickly exits the kitchen, his steps hurried as he makes his way toward the sanctuary of the bathroom. The door closes behind him, and in the privacy of this small space, he allows himself to feel the full extent of his arousal.

His hands find the cool wall in front of him, bracing himself as he tries to regain control over his body's reactions. But it's no use; the image of you, the fleeting glimpse of your naked flesh beneath that sundress, has ignited a fire within him that only one thing can quench.

With trembling hands, Joel releases his cock from the confines of his jeans and boxers, letting them fall to the floor. His fingers wrap around his length while his other hand presses against the wall for support. His thumb caresses his balls as he closes his eyes and loses himself in the fantasy of being inside you—your warmth enveloping him completely.

The sensation is overwhelming; with each stroke, he imagines himself thrusting into your wet cunt, feeling your body yield to him as pleasure courses through both of you. His breath hitches as he pictures your inner thighs slick against his hard cock, an image so vivid it feels like reality rather than mere fantasy.

His rhythm quickens; the sound of his heavy breathing fills the room as he chases release—a necessary escape from this fevered dream that has taken hold of him. With a final groan Joel reaches climax, spilling himself onto his hand in hot spurts while images of you dance before his closed eyes.

Once spent and with control regained, Joel cleans up and takes a moment to compose himself before stepping out into the hallway once more.

He reenters the kitchen with cautious steps; taking in every detail anew: how your hair sways gently with each movement; how gracefully you navigate around your own space; how utterly captivating you are without even trying to be so. Like an intoxicating drug coursing through Joel's veins—a potent mix that leaves him craving more.

You pivot gracefully, two plates cradled in your hands, their contents a testament to your culinary prowess. As you sit down beside Joel, he watches you with an intensity that borders on reverence. Every subtle movement of your hair, every shift of your body captivates him utterly. It's as though he's discovered a newfound addiction, one that courses through his veins and leaves him yearning for more—more of your presence, more of this warmth that seems to radiate from you effortlessly.

The scent of garlic wafts through the air, mingling with the aroma of freshly baked bread and homemade sauce. It's a comforting symphony of scents that causes Joel's mouth to water in anticipation.

"Hope it's good," you say with a hint of modesty in your voice, "sorry it's nothing more interesting."

Joel shakes his head emphatically after taking his first bite of pasta. "It's perfect," he assures you, his words genuine and heartfelt. "I honestly can't remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal like this. It's delicious—quite the step up from frozen pizza."

Your smile is radiant as you accept his compliment with grace. "Well, honestly," you reply with a light laugh, "I'll be repaying you for a lifetime for finding this ring for me. Come by anytime you're in the neighborhood."

"Funny thing," Joel responds between bites, "I only live a few blocks from here, down on Anderson." This revelation sparks an animated conversation between the two of you—a sharing of stories and dreams that flows as easily as the beer in your bottles. You talk about everything: work and family; friends and interests, and even your favorite bad movies that are so terrible they loop back around to being entertaining again.

After a few hours filled with laughter and learning about each other over drinks the camaraderie between you is palpable as you prepare to introduce Joel to what is perhaps one of the most delightfully awful films ever made—a movie so bad it transcends its own terribleness into something truly special.

"I can't believe you haven't seen it yet! We have to watch it; I'm putting it on right now! It's the best worst movie there ever is or ever will be." Your enthusiasm is infectious; even if Joel has his doubts about such bold claims regarding cinematic quality or lack thereof, he can't help but be drawn into your excitement.

“That's a serious claim, dunno if I believe it." Joel's words carry a playful skepticism as he raises an eyebrow at you, clearly intrigued by your passionate endorsement of the movie.

"Trust me!" You reply with an infectious enthusiasm that lights up your entire face. "You'll never want it to end." Your conviction is unshakeable, and there's a sparkle in your eyes that speaks volumes about the joy you find in sharing this guilty pleasure with someone else.

With a swift, almost eager motion, you spring up from your seat and make your way to the couch, a well-loved blanket clutched in your hands. You turn to look at Joel, patting the spot on the couch next to you with a warm, inviting smile that seems to brighten the entire room.

"I can't in good faith let you leave until you've at least seen this movie," you tell him, your tone half-joking, half-serious. It's a playful challenge, one that Joel readily accepts with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

He rises from his chair, crossing the short distance to join you on the couch. As he settles in beside you, the cushions dip under his weight, bringing the two of you closer together. You can't help but smile as you pull the blanket over both of you, a cozy shield against the outside world.

The movie's opening credits roll across the screen, but Joel's attention is divided. He's acutely aware of your presence beside him—the warmth of your body, the soft rhythm of your breathing, and the intoxicating scent of vanilla and coconut that seems to envelop you both. As you snuggle into him, resting your head on his arm, Joel feels a surge of desire tempered by a wave of uncertainty.

His mind races with images of you—bent over, moaning beneath him, your body tightening around him as he imagines himself thrusting deep inside you. The fantasy is so vivid that it takes all his self-control not to act on the impulses that course through him. But then you shift closer to him, nestling into the crook of his arm with a contented sigh that makes his heart skip a beat.

Joel's arm hovers in the air for a moment before he gathers the courage to wrap it around your shoulders. The gesture feels natural yet charged with an electricity that hums just beneath the surface. You respond by snuggling even closer, your arms encircling his torso in a silent embrace that sends shivers down his spine.

This newfound intimacy is both exhilarating and comforting for Joel; it's as if he's found a sanctuary in the warmth of your embrace—a safe haven from the tumultuous desires that wage war within him. His heart rate begins to slow as he holds you gently but firmly against him, savoring the softness of your skin and the trust implicit in this quiet cuddle on the couch.

The thought of kissing you crosses Joel's mind more than once. Your lips look so inviting—soft and sweet like ripe fruit just waiting to be tasted. He imagines what it would be like to close the distance between you two; to feel those lips yield under his own; to explore every single curve and contour with an urgency born from longing and restraint.

But despite this overwhelming temptation, Joel remains cautious—mindful not to scare you away with his crippling desire.

As the movie plays out, Joel's thoughts drift further away from the screen. The plot, the characters, the absurdity of it all—none of it can hold a candle to the vivid fantasies that dance through his mind. The desire that has been simmering beneath the surface since he first walked through your door now threatens to boil over, fueled by every innocent touch and shared laugh under the soft glow of your living room.

His cock twitches with a life of its own, straining against the fabric of his jeans as the images of you flood his senses. He imagines cupping your breasts in his hands, feeling their weight and warmth; tracing the contours of your neck with his tongue before capturing your lips in a searing kiss; teasing your nipples with his teeth until they're as hard as the erection that throbs insistently beneath the blanket.

The need for release is overwhelming, and despite his best efforts to remain still and composed, Joel's arousal is becoming increasingly difficult to conceal. The blanket tented above his groin is a clear indication of his body's betrayal—a beacon signaling his unspoken desire for you.

He holds his breath, praying that you won't shift your hand any lower lest you discover just how much he's struggling to maintain control. But what Joel doesn't realize is that you've already noticed—it would be impossible not to with such an obvious bulge pressing against the fabric that separates skin from skin.

The knowledge that you are aware of his predicament only serves to heighten Joel's arousal. And then, without warning, you move—your hand grazing the top of his thigh before inching higher and higher still until it hovers just below where he needs it most.

Joel gasps as you begin to palm him through the denim barrier. Each movement sends waves of pleasure coursing through him. His moan is soft but audible in the quiet room; a testament to how much he craves your touch—how much he craves you.

As you continue to explore the contours of Joel's body with your touch, he feels a shiver run down his spine, a visceral reaction to the electricity that seems to arc between you two. The desire that has been building within him since he first stepped into your home now threatens to consume him entirely. He aches for you—for the taste of your lips, the softness of your skin, the warmth of your embrace. Every moment in your presence only fans the flames of his longing, and he finds himself teetering on the edge of restraint.

Your hand glides over his thigh, each stroke sending jolts of pleasure through him. His cock strains against the confines of his jeans, a testament to how much he wants you—how much he needs you. His breath hitches in his throat as he fights to maintain some semblance of control, but it's a battle he's losing quickly.

You see Joel's eyes flutter shut, a silent admission of how deeply your touch affects him. The evidence of his arousal is plain to see beneath the blanket that does little to hide his desire for you. His grip on reality—and perhaps more importantly, on the couch cushions—tightens as he struggles against the tide of yearning that threatens to sweep him away.

But you have no intention of letting this moment pass by unexplored. With deliberate intent, you move your hand higher still until it grazes the head of his cock through the denim that separates you. The sound that escapes from Joel is part sigh, part plea—a clear indication that his control is hanging by a thread.

In one swift motion, Joel captures your wrist, halting your movements and drawing your attention back to him. His eyes are dark with need as they lock onto yours; there's an unspoken question lingering in their depths—a question that hangs between you both like an invisible thread.

You give Joel a small nod, granting him silent permission to explore his desires. Without missing a beat, he leans in, his lips brushing against the tender skin of your neck. He lingers at your pulse point, his gentle suction sending waves of pleasure through you. His hand finds your thigh, caressing it with an up-and-down motion that makes your legs tremble with anticipation.

A soft whimper escapes you, and you bite down on your bottom lip in an effort to stifle the urge to scream out his name. Joel's fingers trace a path under your dress, moving upward with agonizing slowness. His smile broadens as he feels the warmth of your flesh beneath his fingertips.

He carefully lifts your dress off your body, casting it aside in one fluid motion, leaving you completely exposed and naked before him. Standing up, you take his hand and lead him towards the stairs that ascend to your bed. Joel is taken aback by your assertiveness—it's not what he expected from you—but his surprise quickly gives way to desire. All that matters is that he wants you, needs you. So he follows without question as you guide him upstairs to the intimacy of your bedroom.

You walk backward towards the center of the room, drawing Joel along with you. You gaze into his eyes and see pure desire shining back at you—a look that matches the yearning within yourself. In this moment, there's no room for doubt or hesitation; there's only the two of you.

In the dimly lit room, the air is thick with anticipation, each breath you take laced with the scent of desire. Joel stands before you, his silhouette a study in masculine beauty against the soft glow of the room. With a measured pace, he grasps the hem of his shirt, the fabric straining against the defined muscles of his body. As he lifts it over his head, the light dances across his tanned skin, highlighting the rugged contours of his chest and the salt-and-pepper dusting of his happy trail.

The sight of his broad shoulders and the solid expanse of his chest leaves you momentarily breathless. His physique is a canvas of hard work and dedication, each muscle carved from years of physical exertion. The soft dusting of hair trails down his toned stomach, leading your gaze to the waistband of his pants.

With a swift, almost impatient motion, he frees himself from the last of his clothing. His movements are a symphony of strength and grace, and as his pants slide down his powerful thighs, you catch your first glimpse of his manhood. His cock stands proud and erect, a beacon of his arousal, the skin stretched taut and flushed with the heat of his desire.

The sight of him—unabashedly naked and utterly desirable—sends a jolt of heat straight to your core. His cock is a testament to his masculinity; thick, with a defined shape that beckons your touch. A bead of moisture glistens at the tip, a clear sign of his readiness, and you can't help but imagine the warmth of his skin against your palm, the weight of him in your hand.

Joel's cock is a marvel of male anatomy, the veins tracing intricate patterns along its length, pulsing. It's a sight that is both primal and beautiful, the very essence of his maleness on display just for you. The coarse hair at the base only serves to accentuate its impressive girth, and you find yourself drawn to him, eager to explore every inch of his rugged, manly form.

As Joel hovers over you, his gaze rakes over your body with an intensity that sets your skin ablaze. He drinks in the sight of you, his appreciation evident in the hunger that darkens his eyes.

He takes a moment to explore, his rough palms gently cupping the softness of your curves, his thumbs teasing your hardening nipples. The contrast of his rugged hands against your delicate skin sends waves of pleasure coursing through you, and a soft moan escapes your lips, encouraging him to continue his sensual exploration.

You feel the weight of his body as he settles between your thighs. The coarse hair of his happy trail brushes against your sensitive skin. With a reverence that makes your heart flutter, he lowers his head, his lips tracing a path from your navel to the soft curve of your breast, his breath hot against your skin.

As Joel lifts himself, the muscles in his arms and shoulders ripple with the movement, casting enticing shadows across his skin. He leans over you once more, his gaze filled with a mix of adoration and unbridled lust. His lips trail a scorching path down your stomach, each kiss a tender promise that sends shivers of anticipation through you.

You arch your back, your body instinctively responding to his touch. Your breath hitches as he reaches the delicate juncture of your thighs, his tongue darting out to taste you. He licks and nips at the sensitive skin along your inner thighs, each touch of his mouth stoking the fire within you.

A smirk plays on Joel's lips as he reaches your clit, a knowing glint in his eyes that tells you he's fully aware of the power he holds over you in this moment. With exquisite tenderness, he flicks his tongue over the engorged bundle of nerves, each lick sending jolts of pleasure radiating through your body. You squirm beneath him, overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through you.

His fingers part your folds, exposing you fully to his ministrations. He thrusts his tongue into you, exploring your depths with a hunger that leaves you gasping for air. His movements are deliberate and skilled—circling, probing, and sucking in just the right way to make your clit twitch erratically with need.

Joel's own excitement is palpable; with each moan that escapes your lips, his cock grows impossibly harder. The sight of him so turned on by pleasuring you only adds to the intensity of the moment.

As he continues to suck and flick his tongue around your glistening cunt , you can't help but voice your pleasure loudly, the sound echoing off the walls of the room. You push yourself further up the mattress, seeking friction against his relentless tongue as you chase the elusive wave of your orgasm.

"I'm gonna come," you pant out between ragged breaths, "please don't stop." Your world narrows down to the feeling of his tongue against your clit—a maddening rhythm.

As the words tumble from your lips, Joel's eyes flash with a primal hunger, and he knows that you're on the brink. He redoubles his efforts, his tongue working with a renewed fervor as he hears the desperation in your voice.

"That's it, such a good girl," Joel growls against your sensitive flesh, his voice rough with desire. "You're so fucking beautiful.”

Just as you're about to cum Joel pulls away and Joel's dominance takes center stage. He looms over you. His eyes are dark with desire, and there's a wicked glint in them that promises an escalation of pleasure and intensity.

"You like that, don't ya?" he rasps, his voice thick with lust. "Feelin’ my tongue on your wet cunt, makin’ you squirm and beg." He punctuates each word with a roll of his hips, his cock rubbing against your sensitive flesh in a way that makes your breath hitch in your throat.

"Yes," you admit breathlessly, the admission spilling from your lips without hesitation. You're past the point of being coy or reserved.

He grabs your wrists with one hand, pinning them above your head as he leans down to whisper in your ear. "I'm gonna make you scream my name until all your neighbors know exactly who owns this tight little pussy. "You're mine," he asserts, his voice a possessive rumble in your ear. "This little pussy is mine to fuck, mine to pleasure, mine to own.”

The raw intensity of Joel's words sends a shiver of anticipation down your spine. His dominance is a potent aphrodisiac, stoking the fire within you to a fever pitch. You're helpless against the onslaught of sensations—the weight of his body pressing you into the mattress, the feel of his calloused hands restraining your wrists, the heat of his breath against your ear.

"Say it," he commands, his voice a low growl that resonates with authority. "Tell who this pussy belongs to."

"It's yours," you gasp, the words spilling from your lips in a rush of submission. "All yours, Joel."

A satisfied smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth as he releases your wrists, only to grip your hips with both hands. He positions himself at your entrance, the blunt head of his cock nudging against your slick folds. The anticipation is almost unbearable; you can feel every ridge and vein of his impressive girth as he teases you with shallow thrusts, barely breaching your opening.

"Please," you beg, your voice laced with desperation. "I need you inside me."

With a grunt of approval, Joel gives in to your pleas, driving his cock into you with one powerful thrust. The sensation of being filled so completely takes your breath away, a mix of pain and pleasure that leaves you gasping for air. He doesn't give you time to adjust to his size, instead setting a relentless pace that has your body arching off the bed with each forceful stroke.

"Fuck, you're so tight," he groans, his voice strained with the effort of holding back. "Your pussy feels like heaven wrapped around my cock baby."

You can't form coherent words anymore; all that escapes your lips are inarticulate cries of pleasure as Joel claims your body with an intensity that leaves you breathless. His hips snap against yours, the sound of skin on skin echoing in the room, punctuated by your desperate moans and his low, guttural grunts.

As he continues to fuck you with wild abandon, you can feel the familiar tightening in your core, a sign that your orgasm is imminent. Your inner walls flutter around his cock, gripping him tightly as he plunges in and out of your soaked pussy.

As the intensity of your shared passion builds, Joel's gaze locks onto yours, his eyes dark with desire and command. "Look at me," he orders, his voice a low, insistent growl that cuts through the haze of pleasure clouding your senses. "Wanna see you when you come for me."

Your eyes meet his, and in that moment, something profound passes between you. It's as if he's reaching into the very depths of your soul, claiming not just your body but every part of you.

With each powerful thrust, Joel drives you closer to the edge of ecstasy. The sight of him above you—his muscles straining with exertion, his skin slick with sweat, and his eyes burning into yours—is more than you can bear. You feel yourself teetering on the brink, a prisoner to the exquisite torment that is building within your core.

"That's it," Joel encourages, his voice ragged with need. "Come on, baby. I gotcha."

As you surrender to the overwhelming sensations coursing through your body, your orgasm takes hold, and you can't help but cry out his name. The sound of it reverberates through the room, a testament to the raw, unfiltered pleasure that Joel has coaxed from your very core.

In the midst of your climax, with your body trembling beneath him, Joel's voice breaks through the fog of ecstasy. "So damn beautiful when you come," he murmurs. "Seein’ you like this, feelin’ you tighten ‘round me—it's the most beautiful thing I've ever witnessed."

His praise washes over you, amplifying the intensity of your orgasm. The knowledge that he finds you beautiful in this unguarded moment of pleasure adds a new dimension to the experience—a sense of being cherished and admired that goes beyond the physical.

The combination of his words and the relentless rhythm of his hips proves too much for Joel to withstand. With a final, powerful thrust, he reaches his own peak, his body shuddering as he empties himself inside you. His groans of release mingle with your cries of pleasure, creating a symphony of shared ecstasy that fills the room.

Joel's laughter suddenly fills the room, a warm, hearty sound that wraps around you like a comforting blanket. He pulls you close, his arm a secure band around your waist as he tucks you into his side. You can't help but smile, your heart fluttering in your chest as you press your face against the solid wall of his chest. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat is a soothing counterpoint to your own rapid pulse and heavy breathing.

The reality of tonight's events still feels surreal to you. Here you are, nestled in the sanctuary of your bed, with a man who has managed to ignite a fire within you that you didn't even know existed. The thought flickers through your mind that this is something transient, something that might not be meant to last. But in this moment, none of that matters. All that matters is the connection between you and Joel—a connection that feels as real and as solid as anything you've ever known.

After several moments of comfortable silence, Joel's voice breaks through the quietude of the room. "That was perfect," he says, his words laced with genuine admiration and wonder. You can't help but giggle at his enthusiasm—it mirrors the joy bubbling up inside of you. Turning in his embrace, you find yourself lost in his deep brown eyes—eyes that seem to see right through to your very soul.

Leaning in, he captures your lips in a kiss that is both tender and passionate—a slow, sweet melding that sends shivers down your spine and makes your lips tingle with delight. You part your lips slightly, granting him deeper access as his tongue sweeps against yours in an intimate dance that leaves you breathless and yearning for more.

His hand finds its way into your hair, fingers gently tangling in the strands as he cradles your head with surprising gentleness for someone with such strong hands. Every touch feels electric—each caress igniting sparks beneath your skin until it seems like there's nothing else but this perfect moment suspended in time.

As the kiss comes to a gentle close, Joel pulls back just enough to gaze into your eyes, his own reflecting a mix of satisfaction and reluctance. His attention shifts momentarily to the alarm clock on your nightstand, its glowing digits announcing the arrival of midnight.

"Fuck," he sighs, the word a soft exhalation against your lips. "As much as I'd love to stay here with you, I really gotta head home and try to get a few hours of sleep.”

You offer him a smile that's both understanding and a little wistful, nodding your head in silent agreement. Leaning in, you initiate one last kiss—a sweet, lingering press of your lips against his.

"Guess it's true what they say," you murmur, your voice soft yet teasing, "heroes never rest. Go on, Mr. Fireman, get some sleep. But do me a favor and text me when you get home. I need to know you made it safely and weren't murdered on the way.”

Joel's chuckle is warm and genuine as he cups your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing against your cheekbones in a tender farewell. "I wouldn't dream of leavin’ ya worried," he assures you before capturing your lips in one final kiss.

With a reluctant groan, he extricates himself from the tangle of limbs and bedding, rising from the bed. You watch him dress, the moonlight casting shadows across his toned body, and you can't help but appreciate the sight of him—a man who embodies strength, courage, and unexpected tenderness.

Once he's fully clothed, Joel turns to you one last time, his eyes drinking in the sight of you lying there amidst the rumpled sheets. "I'll see you soon, pretty girl," he says, his voice filled with quiet determination. And then, with a final wave, he's gone—leaving you with the lingering scent of his cologne and the memory of his touch to keep you company through the night.

True to his word, your phone buzzes a short while later, the screen lighting up with a message from Joel

Made it home safe and sound. No murderers lurking in the shadows tonight. Sweet dreams, beautiful. I'll be thinking of you.

[targaryen-dynasty]

THE GREATEST TEMPTATION.

Modern!Aemond Targaryen x cam girl!Reader

"Keeping your boyfriend waiting for too long is always a dangerous game, and when he finally has enough, he deems it most fitting to give your audience a real show."

WARNINGS: SEXUAL CONTENT-MDNI; p in v, semi public sex?, rough sex, manhandling, size kink, possessive and jealous Aemond, kinda submissive reader

WORDS: 2.6 K

NOTES: This is an older story, and although I have edited it, I didn't want to change too much from my older writing. I‘ll now work on new stuff with Maegor, Aegon and Cregan. The movie „cam“ was my inspiration for this!

❗️𝐚𝐝𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭!

“Come on, guys, stop it,” you say, your hands running over the curve of your hips. A short riding crop is clasped between the fingers of your right hand while the ones of your left hand pull the thin strap of your lace thong to let it snap back against your flesh, making a show for the audience as you squirm at the impact. “You know, if you don’t get to the cum show, I’m going to have to go off cam to do it without you, so…" 

You kneel on your bed, sitting on your haunches with the ring light and camera positioned so only the parts from your neck down are visible for your viewers. 

“And nobody wants that, right?” your words are accompanied by a feigned pout as you drag the tip of the riding crop from the valley between your breasts down to your navel, dragging it around it slowly. “But seriously, guys, I need it, so hurry up.”

It’s a ping! that alerts you of a received donation, and you clap your hands in excitement upon seeing the bright red $450 popping up on the screen. 

“Ah, RoguePrince81, thank you so, so much,” you hum with a smile. “Alright, ten spanks for you.”

You turn around and position yourself closer to the camera to give them the perfect view of your ass, but before you’re able to start to deliver ten spanks to it, your boyfriend barges into the room. 

Learning from past mistakes, the camera isn’t recording more than your bed, Aemond’s presence remaining unknown to the viewers. With your microphone not muted, you can’t do more than mouth a ‘five minutes’ to him still standing in the doorframe. 

The pout on his lips is barely there, already gotten used to the way his girlfriend earns her money, though he doesn’t necessarily approve of it. Sighing quietly, he closes the door behind him and sits down in the chair at your desk across from the bed. 

You barely watch him, focusing back on the audience. One slap after another is served to your ass, and you yet again make a show out of it by moaning, squirming and wiggling your ass. 

“My butt’s gonna hurt tomorrow,” you whine. After the tenth slap, you rub your asscheeks, sighing an ‘and one for good luck.’ With the eleventh slap, you throw the crop aside.

Five minutes turn into fifteen, and with all your attention on the audience, you don't notice the set jaw and furious gaze of your boyfriend, a blaze of jealousy flickering in his eye. At least not until he stands up to approach you. 

Being quick to mute the chat, you turn towards him, sitting on your haunches and looking up at him. A crease has formed between your brows, knowing that you have kept him waiting for too long. 

It’s a fruitless attempt to calm him as you rub the palms of your hands over his thighs, squeezing them just slightly in the way you know he enjoys. 

“I’m not here to waste my time watching you fuck around with other guys,” he remarks coldly. 

The coldness of his voice makes a shiver run down your spine, a contrast to the heat growing between your legs. As your eyes meet his ice-like gaze, you swallow hard. “I know,” you reply, continuing to brush your hands up and down his thighs. “But you know I need to make money, Aem.”

He scoffs at your response. “You can make money in other ways,” he replies, his hands capturing your wrists tight enough to indicate his disapproval. “You don’t need to show off your body for strangers.”

Your heart is racing now, and you feel a flutter in your chest at his words. But you can’t deny that his possessive side only makes you want him more. “But this way is easy,” you shrug, trying to keep your tone light. “It’s quick and pays well… plus, I enjoy it, you know that.”

Aemond’s nostrils flare ever so slightly at your words, his jaw setting firmly. In one fluid motion, he pulls you up on your feet. He’s tall and strong, and his presence looms over yours. “I do,” he says. “But you’re mine, and I don’t share.”

Running your hands over his chest, you take a step closer and press yourself against him, and he uses the proximity to rest a hand at the back of your neck. “And I’ll only ever be yours.” You start to play with the buttons of his shirt. “But this is just a job, Aem. It doesn’t mean anything.”

His expression betrays no emotion as he regards you, but his grip on your neck tightens. “If this doesn’t mean anything, then this won’t bother you at all,” he states, using his grip to force you towards your desk. He pushes you over it, and with you having relocated all your stuff to film the bed, there’s not much left on it that topples onto the ground. 

Your hands fly to the desk to steady yourself upon impact, a gasp leaving your lips. Your heart rate picks up, your blood thrumming with a mixture of arousal and a hint of fear. The sudden manhandling sends a thrill down your spine. “Aemond,” you breathe, your voice trembling slightly. 

His breath is hot against your ear as he leans down, chest pressing against your back while his arms cage you in. It’s clear he’s the power right now, and it’s making you feel all the more vulnerable under his control. “What?” he asks, his voice soft yet commanding. “Do you want me to stop?”

With your body reacting to his husky voice, your hips press back against his. “No,” you answer softly, looking over your shoulder at him with wide eyes. 

His lips curve into a smug smile. “Good, because I had no intentions of stopping anytime soon,” he replies. Prowling toward the dresser, he grabs the laptop. “This will be the best show they’ve ever seen.”

Several pings! echo off the device, the viewer’s comments filling the chat box with messages you’d die to read right now. Aemond has seen you set everything up plenty of times before, and he knows all too well where to put the laptop so that it doesn’t show anything else than the parts below your faces, and quickly unmutes the chat. 

His outburst is nothing new, he’s confessed his jealousy often enough, but it’s the first time he willingly participates in one of your streams. It’s clear it’s his way to mark his territory, to claim you in front of everyone to show who you belong to, and his possessiveness does little to diminish the fire in your body, the ache between your legs only becoming more prominent. 

His hard bulge presses against your ass as he approaches you again, shoving you against the sturdy desk with his hands gripping your hips. It catches you by surprise and you release a choked moan at it. 

Nimble fingers hook under the thin straps of your thong, pulling it back enough the snaps against your skin have you wincing for real. “You’re even wearing my favorite lingerie, hm?” he taunts, large hands roaming over your asscheeks. “All this for some horny bastards and their dirty money?”

You shiver at his touch and the dominance in his deep voice, too zoned out to give him an answer. His impatience runs thin with how quickly he serves a slap to your ass, palm landing exactly where you have hit yourself before. The pain is sharper, stinging, and causing tears to brim in your eyes. “Don’t make me repeat myself.”

“Gods, well…” you whimper. “I… I have to make my viewers happy.”

“Is that the only thing you care about?” he challenges. “Making them happy? What about making your boyfriend happy, mh?”

Licking your lips, you look at him from over your shoulder again. “You know you’re the only one I care about,” you breathe out. “Only you.”

Aemond’s hand smooths down your back, his touch gentle but firm. “Do they know you belong to me?” he asks, a hint of possessiveness in his tone. “Nah, fuck this, go on and tell them now.”

“They… they know I have a boyfriend,” you admit. 

But it’s a sharp slap served to your ass that makes your head snap towards the laptop quickly, taking in a shaky breath before you address whoever’s behind the screen. You merely know them by their usernames, RoguePrince81, MrSunfyre, thereal_heir and so on. “I… I belong to my boyfriend,” you say, your voice clear yet laced with a tremble that betrays your submission to him. “And only him.”

Aemond’s hand runs over your asscheek in response, soothing the stinging pain. “That’s right,” he purrs, the possessive tone evident in his voice. “You’re mine, and I don’t like sharing.”

“All yours,” you whisper, though there doesn’t come a reply from him. You merely hear shuffling coming from behind you, and judging by the haste of the sounds, it’s clear he’s desperate and impatient. Aemond enjoys teasing, and maybe even punishing you, but there always comes the point where he can’t take it anymore himself. 

It’s the elongated groan of him that has you pushing your hips back, growing just as impatient and desperate, and it’s the cue for him to tug the lace of your thong aside, easing two of his fingers inside of you. You moan wantonly at that, yet the stimulation doesn’t last long enough for you to truly enjoy it, fingers withdrawing almost immediately after the intrusion. 

With his fingers coated in your arousal, he smears it over the tip of his cock and therefore mixes it with the few beads of precum. His hand glides up and down his cock with ease, before he eventually aligns the tip with your entrance. Sheathing himself inside of you slowly, allowing you to feel every ridge and vein of him, you quickly rise on your tiptoes to adapt to his height and make accommodating his size easier, although you’re all but used to it by now. 

A renewed wave of your arousal drips down your thighs at his intrusion, allowing him to slide into you with little to no resistance. As you both moan in unison, yours is slightly muffled by your teeth sinking into your bottom lip, reveling in the slight burn that accompanies the pleasure. 

Aemond seizes a fistful of your hair, pulling you back as his hips thrust into you harshly once as a clear warning. Brushing your sweet spot so expertly, you arch your back like a cat, pushing back against him with another muffled moan making its way past your lips.

“Oh, don’t act all shy now,” he coos, his other hand finding its way to the back of your neck. “Let them know how good I’m making you feel.”

His words make you nod meekly, and he takes it as a silent invitation to move, the pace starting slow but becoming much more intense in a matter of seconds until he’s recklessly driving his hips into yours. Aemond is always fairly rough with you, but the jealousy and possessiveness do make it even better. 

A breathless gasp falls from your lips in an attempt to catch your breath through his ruthless pounding, and your fists clench around the edge of the desk again, bracing yourself for the way his cock bullies your sweet spot and drives your whole body back and forth.

“Gods, please… use me,” you whine, eyes squeezing shut as you are overwhelmed by the different sensations overcoming your body.  

“Fuck,” he groans. “You like that? You like being used by me while those miserable bastards watch you getting split open by my cock, hm?” His words are punctuated by several harsh thrusts, knocking the air out of your lungs and causing his balls to slap against your sensitive clit, sending shivers down your legs. 

His thighs are heavy as they press into your frame, applying pressure to where your hips meet the edge of the desk. While it hurts, you barely have time to focus on the pain, overwhelmed by the soaring pleasure inside of you. The building tension inside of you spreads through your core, your walls fluttering as furiously as Aemond’s relentless onslaught on your cunt. 

“Don’t stop,” you whimper. 

“Or what?” he taunts. “You’re gonna come for me already?”

Despite him mocking your despair, he pulls your hips back a little and brings his hand down between your legs, dragging his nimble fingers over your clit to give you the last blow that’s meant to push you over the precipice. Every attempt to give him an answer dies in your throat at the sudden burst of pleasure, your mind hazy and your eyes glossy. 

Parting his legs and slightly bending them at the knees, he curls his hips in a manner that all but forces his cock into you at an angle that has stars dancing across your vision, prolonging the intense orgasm that ripples through your core. The tension you hold in your legs from the position causes them to shake uncontrollably, making your body rely on the firm grip of his hand now resting at your hip.  

His own orgasm nears with how forcefully you clench around and convulse all over him, his pace more erratic as he leans down to press his chest flush against your back, pinning you to the desk and planting a searing kiss to the crook of your neck. His thrusts grow sloppier thanks to the position, but that doesn’t mean they don’t fill you deeply enough anymore. 

Bringing his hand from your hair to the wall in front of the desk, the veins in his hand and arms bulge from the exertion. “That’s it,” he rasps into the crook of your neck. “Be a good girl for me and take everything I give you.” 

“Hm-Hm… yes,” you whimper, pushing back against him. Your body is pressed flatly against the wooden surface of the desk, his weight on top of you not allowing you to take any deep breath – yet the throbbing of his cock inside of you definitely makes up for it. 

A strained groan announces his orgasm, muffled by his lips pressed against your skin. A relieved moan leaves your lips as soon as his twitching cock spends itself inside of your still spasming walls. He keeps thrusting into you, though his thrusts become gentler and even slower than before due to his stamina decreasing, eventually stopping.

It’s unlike Aemond to pull out of you so shortly after, and you wince at the sudden loss, your assaulted core clenching around nothing to adjust to the emptiness. Turning your head to look at him, sweaty and heated cheek pressed to the cold desk, you can’t hide the blissed out expression that’s written all over your face. Aemond prowls towards the set up, picking up the laptop with the camera filming nothing but his chest, still heaving with ragged breaths.  

“Now, did you like that?” he asks as he walks back to you again, obviously speaking to the part of your audience that stayed for the show. “Then you’ll definitely love this.” 

Bending forward slightly, he points the camera to your cunt, blessing the viewers with the sight of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt, running down your folds and quivering thighs. You stay still, too focused on the multiple pings! that bounce off the device, indicating that your little show has earned you a big deal of money.

“Is this the kind of cum show you expected, hm? I bet the fuck not.”

He then abruptly shuts the laptop with a thud, carelessly throwing it onto your bed. 

You push yourself back, standing on wobbly feet as you adjust your thong, holding onto the desk. You turn your head to look at him, the smirk on your lips matching the wicked one on his. “You know you’re gonna be a regular now,” you tease. 

“And I thought you’d never ask.”

[justmymindandstuff]

Dawn and Dusk - Aegon II x Sister (you)

summary: Aegon was crowned king. He has stolen the throne from your half sister and war is at your doorstep. But you don't care about any of that the second his hands wrap around your hips. For far too long you have to miss your brothers touches because his kingly duties cost all his time. This night you give into your desires.

words: 4.717

warnings: 18 (+). MDNI, Smut; incest, Targaryen Siblings doing Targaryen Siblings Stuff; Brother/ Sister; Sibling kink?, light choking, spiting, Oral (m!receiving), blow job, Oral (f!receiving), p in v sex, cheating, porn with a tiny bit of plot,Blood&Chees; mention of death, mention of murder

english is not my first language// I wrote this in a few hours so no beta or proof read // First time writing smut // no use of yn // Gif not mine

AO3.

I heard 1989 and TTPD from Taylor Swift while I wrote this (It has nothing to do with this Story I just wanted to share this little fact with you.)

Lots of love to all of you 🧡

You nod to the guard in front of your chambers and he opens the door for you. You let your gaze wander through your rooms, for a second it remain hanging at the burning candle on the night table and an exciting flattering draws through your stomach. Your skin is starting to tickle. “I will go to bed early. Please help me get dressed for bed."

You run through the corridors of the Reed Keep, the sun had already gone down and now the fakes give a little light. You're on your way to your rooms. Actually, you wanted to spend the evening with Helaena and the twins. But you and your brother Aemond are so immersed in crafting and planning battle plans for the war and how you use your dragons that you have forgotten the time. You know the kids are already asleep and you don't want to disturb or wake them up. It took a long time for the twins to finally sleep through the whole night. You can't count how many nights you spent in your sister's rooms and weighed one of the twins on your hip to get him to sleep. You're gonna make time right tomorrow morning and take them out to the gardens.

Immediately your maids are with you and begin to tie up the tight corset. You breathe out in relieve when you can finally get a reasonable breath again. The green silk of your dress slips from your body. Your maidens dress you off and then put your white night grown over your head. Your scalp is slightly scratching when the hair needles are pulled out of your hairstyle. Quick hands open your braids and brushes gently through your long blonde hair. One of the girls tries to braid your hair, but you stop her. “I want to wear my hair open tonight, I have had these tight braids for a few days now. I will get a headaches.”

She smiles at you and curtsy. "Of course, princess."

"Let me alone now, I want to go to bed."

The maids all sink into a fast curtsy before they leave your rooms.

You don't move until you hear the door fall into the lock. You quickly run over the cold stone to the door and turn the key. The lock cracks quietly as it closes. You breathe deeply and count to three in your head.

"Where have you been so long?“ Aegon's voice at your ear makes a shiver wander over your neck, and as his hands move from behind around your hips, you have to bite your lip so you don't,moan. It's been too long since he touched you.

"I made battel plans with Aemond." You answer and lean into his touch. His lips rub the skin on your neck, you can feel his body in your back, he slightly presses you against the door. You lay your hands on the wood.

"So you're letting me wait because of our brother? You're letting your king wait.“

"I didn't know you were waiting. If I had known, I would have come right away.“

"Have you not seen my sign?“

"Not until I came back."

"Anyway, you have let me wait. Because of Aemond. As a punishment, I should take you right here against the door."

Your nails scratch slightly over the wood as a spark in the middle of your body makes you shrink. You bite your lips to suppress a whirlwind. God, you're desperate. Since Aegon is king, he hardly had time for you.

"That's what you do to me if you neglect me for weeks."

You were used to having him in your bed every night and the sudden withdrawal of his touches, kisses, hands on your body, his cock in you. Gods, it's making you almost crazy. Aegon's lips stretch over your neck, his grip on your hips becomes a little stronger than he presses against you. You can feel his hardness through his pants and your thin night dress. He kisses your ear and bites slightly. "But you would like that, wouldn´t you?" His voice is dark and this time you can't suppress a quiet whimper. You press your legs together to get a little friction. Aegon swings you around and pushes your back to the door. His knee slips between your legs and you stand up again as the cloth of his pants runs over your bare cunt. Your arms lie around Aegon's neck, and you lean your forehead to his. His hands lie on your hips, his thumbs draw small circles over the thin fabric of your night-shirt. You move your hips, you desperately want more friction. Your lower abdomen compresses pleasantly as your clit rubs over his thigh. But it's not enough. "What kind of princess are you?" Aegon puts a hand on your cheek, slightly pushes your head back so that you stumble against the wood. You look at him, a smile dances around his lips and deep affection is reflected in his eyes. But as he speaks, his voice sounds rough and dark. " Humping at me like a common whore." His grip around your hip gets stronger and he pushes back your hips, so you lose contact with his thigh. You stand on your heels, try to defend yourself against his grip, and push your hips back forward. Aegon laughs quietly, pushes you back again and takes half a step back. Frustrated, you push away from the door and push him in his chest and away from you. Aegon goes half a step back and laughs at you.

“Neglect? Then it was probably another princess before whom I kneeled not even four days ago while she was sitting on the Iron Throne and came all over my face .”

Your lower abdomen contracts when you remember.

"No, it must have been me." you tell him and take a step towards him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." he says and raises his hand and gently puts it on your cheek, his other hand finds its place at your hip and he draws you closer to himself. You put your arms around him and the next moment your lips are on each others. The kiss is as sweet as oranges from Dorne. After a short moment, you separated again. Aegon kisses your forehead and gently wipes your hair behind your ears. "I missed you, but if you don't kneel naked in front of me in five seconds, I might be looking for another princess." he's zero percent serious, and you're gonna have to smile. Then you bow down, kiss his collarbone over his shirt, and then lick his neck up to his ear.

"Everything you wish, my king." You whisper. Then you step back a step, grab the tail of your night shirt and pull it over your head. When you throw it aside, his eyes hit yours. You keep his gaze as you slowly get on your knees in front of him. He's standing right in front of you, putting a hand on your cheek as you look up to him. He nods and you quickly get your hands on his trousers . His cock jumps free. He is hard and pre cum leaks from the tip. You bow down and kiss his tip. Aegon's hand goes to your hair.

"You know I like it more when you wear braids." he says as he wipes your hair off your face. You lean into his touch, let his cock slip out of your mouth, but put your hand around him and slowly go up and down.

"You let me wait." you answer him as you lazyly pump his length. Aegon laughs quietly.

"You're going to tell me that for a long time, aren't you?“

"I will decide tomorrow ." you answer him and kiss his tip again. Aegon slightly pulls on your hair, so you have to put your head in your neck and look at it again. His other hand lies over yours around his dick.

"Are you ready?“

"Don't be a naughty princess. Open up.” You open your mouth and Aegon is slowly pushing his dick between your lips. You push your tongue down against his length and he quietly stinks up. You only got two-thirds into your mothe before you have to gag. Aegon stops his movement and retreats a bit. "You're out of practice." He says, and you look at him angrily, this was his fault too. You breathe through your nose and push forward a little bit, your scalp draws slightly as you lean against Aegon's grip in your hair, the feeling makes your lower abdomen pounce. Aegon loosens his grip a little, lets you slowly absorb his dick into your mouth. You get tears in your eyes, this time you get a little further before you retreat. Slowly you make your tongue slip over his tip. Aegon is moaning again. His hand squeezes over your cheek, then he pushes you back a bit forward on his cock, you close your lips tightly around him and try to relax your throat. You taste pre cum on your tongue and as you swallow, Aegon shakes up and his legs shake short. A curse comes out between his compressed lips. "You're doing well." You shiver as he praise you. You need two more attempts and then you've finally managed to get him whole in your throat. Your tongue continues to push against his length. Aegon pulls back a little bit, gives you a moment to breathe, lets you kiss his tip and then lick his length while you scratch your hands over his thighs. His pants are bumping around his thighs. Then he pulls himself completely out of your mouth, his hands form a pony tail with your hair.

You nod even though you know that's not enough for him. "Yes." Then you open your mouth again.

Aegon looks at you for a moment, then he pushes his hip forward. He's fucking your mouth fast and hard. Pre cum and your spit mix in your mouth and drop over your chin and on your naked breasts. It's messy, it's hard, and that's exactly what you need. You stumble around his cock, you feel your own moisture running down your legs. Aegon's legs are trembling and he's stunned as his grip in your hair gets stronger. You start scratching your tongue over his dick in your mouth again. You want him to come. You want to taste it in your mouth. You want to hear his moaning when he comes. That's why you cry when he suddenly retreats from your mouth. Your head follows him. "Please, Aegon." You whim and you aren´t suprised about the fact that your voice sounds desperate.

"What do you want, princess?“ he asks as he slowly pumps his dick in front of your face.

"Your cum in my mouth. Please, Aegon. I want to taste you. Please “

"How could I ever deny my princess a wish?" he says and pushes himself back into your mouth. Two quick strokes later, his cum floods your mouth and when you finally taste it again, you moan. You swallow as fast as you can, but it's too much. You can feel his sperm coming out of your mouth and landing on your breasts. Aegon moves his dick slowly in your mouth while a splash falls in your throat. When he's done,you lick his cock clean. Then you fall back on your heels and look up to Aegon. He takes a step back and looks you up and down. You know you have to look like a whore. Your hair falls over your shoulder and back, your nipples have set up in the cold of the chambers, and Aegon's cum runs over your naked breasts.

"You are beautiful," says Aegon with a warm smile. Then he holds hand out to you. You take it and let him pull you on your feet. Your lips meet for a kiss and he pushes his tongue into your mouth. His arm lies around your naked body and he presses you on his body. Then he separates his lips from yours. "In bed with you. I want to taste you." He says, and slaps your ass lightly. You twist your eyes, but still turn to your bed and walk the few steps through your chambers. You hear Aegon geting undressed behind you, and when you turn around and fall back on the bed, he puts his belt with his sword on the night table next to your bed. Then he follows you into bed. His warm body slips to you and pushes you deeper into the soft pillows of your bed. He kisses your lips, walks over your cheeks and over your callbone. When it arrives at your neck, he sucks up slightly and you can feel his smile on your throat before he sucks stronger again. He's gonna make sure you're wearing his mark on your neck tomorrow. In Court, you have to hide it with a high collar, but he'd know it's there, and that's enough for him.

His body slips between your legs and you gladly make room for him, spread the legs for him and push your hips towards him to get a little friction. But Aegon's pushing you back into the pillows.

"Aegon, please." You stumble.

"Not so impatient."

"I am not impatient." You insist. Aegon laughs quietly and then just keeps kissing your neck down. You' wiggle in his grip. When he pulls your nipple into his mouth and sucks slightly, while his thumb pushes over the other nipple, you bite your lips. He changes sides and repeats the game. This time too, there' comes no noise over your lips. You stay strong as his lips continue to scratch over your body and his hands slightly scratche over your sides and chase a sneeze through your whole body.

As his lips wander over the skin on your thigh and he pushes your legs further apart, your hands curl into the bed sheets under you, but your lips remain closed.

You're gonna show him that you can be patient. And stubborn, probably most of all stubborn.

But Aegon knows you, he probably knows your body better than you do. He knows exactly what you like, what you need. He studied you from the moment you gave him your maidenhood. On his six and ten nameday. He was married to your sister for almost a year then. But that didn't interest you, Aegon begged your mother to let him marry you, but the Queen remained in her disicion . You're too young and too much like Aegon. Aegon has to marry Helaena. But from the moment he first plunged into your warm cunt, nothing matters anymore. He wanted to give you as much pleasure as possible. And he had learned.

He had studied your body and your mind for nights, until he had both under control as well as he has Sunfyre under control. Until you both had the same connection to each other as to your dragons.

His hands slide over your upper body towards the center of your body, his nails scratch slightly on your skin. He lies on the abdomen between your legs, making himself comfortable on the soft sheets, while his lips continue to wander down your thigh. You can feel his lips turning to a smile.

"God, you are wet. And all this just because you sucked my dick? Maybe you're just a whore, not a princess. What do you think, sister?“

And at this point, he's got you. Your hips are rushing forward, and over your lips comes a moan that you couldn't suppress. The fact that he's calling you sister right now is causing hot desire to run through your body. It makes it all much more forbidden. A little more dirty.

"I'm your whore brother." you answer him and lift your head off the pillow to look him in the eyes. They sparkle full of desire and the next moment he bends and his tongue finally meets your cunt. He slips between your folds and you stumble together. You cramp your hands in the bed sheets while Aegon slides over your clit with targeted licks. His one hand pulls your thigh down under your butt and he lifts you slightly from the bed to his mouth. A knot is forming in your stomach and your toes are crumbling. Aegon makes you sink back on the pillows, his hand slips a little back and his finger scratches through your folds as his tongue circles around your clit. He distributes your moisture a little bit more, and pushes a finger into you. You push to him, he slips into you without any trouble.

"Fuck, princess." Aegons voice shakes, he pulls his head back a bit, his warm breath sweeps over the center of your body. "Can you take anonther one?“

"Please."

He pushes a second finger into you, he curves his fingers into you and moves slowly. His tongue starts driving familiar circles over your clit. You know exactly what he writes with his tongue. Your hand is buried in his blonde hair, the same color as your hair. You slightly scratch over his scalp and his moan lets a pleasant vibrating run through your body. He can't even get to the g in his name before you came with a loud cry. He moves his fingers gently as you ride out your orgasm. Only when you loosen your grip from his hair and take a few deep breaths he gently pulls his fingers out of you. He's kissing your thigh and you shiver slightly.

"Are you all right?“

"Yes." you answer and stretch out your hand to him. He kisses your thigh again and then rushes up to you in your arms. When you feel his hard dick in the middle of your body, you whimper. Aegon starts rubbing against your center, soaking his dick in your cum. He moans when he looks down. Then he looks back at you and at the next moment his lips lie on yours, he claims your mouth as his. You taste yourself on his tongue. Aegon continues to lay his weight on you, his hands struck him next to your head. You push against him, you want to feel him in you.

"Please Aegon."

"Not yet." He says and kisses your neck and your naked collarbone. His hips move rhythmically as he rubs his tip over your clit and slides the rest of his cock through your folds. The familiar knot in your stomach is forming again and you are rushing to your next high, but you know it won't be enough. Aegon can take you to the cliff, but it will never be enough to let you fall into the pleasure. Aegon knows that as well as you do.

He enjoys tormenting you, but two can play this game. You know how to get him to do exactly what you want. What you need. Your hands wander over his arms and shoulders. You slightly stretch along his neck, move your hips against his, adjust to his rhythm. Your hands wander along his neck and stay on his cheeks. You drag him up slightly and Aegon follows your movement until his face is right above yours. You bow down to kiss him. The kiss is gentle, slow, with an appearance of innocence. Which doesn't fit the way you rub yourself on his dick shamelessly.

He separates your lips from each other and looks you in the eyes for a moment. Then you kiss his right cheek and then his left. The next kiss goes to the place under his ear.

"Please. Fuck me. Fuck me brother." you whisper.

Aegon moans and at the next moment he sinks his cock into you with one movement. The sudden fullness within you presses the air out of your lungs and you scream. Your hands slide to his shoulders and your nails scratch over his skin. Aegon stops for a second, then he pulls back almost entirely only to push forward again firmly. At this moment, your orgasm is washing over you, your walls are flattening around Aegon's cock, and he's pressing his lips to yours, so your kiss swallow your moan.

Your orgasm was not as strong as you would have liked it, and instead of finding release in it, you feel as if there is only more desire to rise in you. At the next moment, you push your hips back towards Aegon. You can feel every vein on his dick as he slowly pushes back into you. This time he just pulls a little back and rubs his hips over your clit. Aegon push your legs a little further apart, push his hips a little deeper into you. Your walls flatter around him.

"Fuck. You're wrapping me up like a glove. Your pussy is made for me sister.”

"It belongs to you. Always Aegon. Just you." You moan under his movements. He accelerates his strokes again a little, leans back a little and lets his hands wander over your body. His hands encircle your breasts, and when he slightly swings your nipples, you press against him.

"Like I said just a whore." he says and sits a little further to bend down to you. His lips meet yours. The kiss is tongue, teeth and desire. Aegon is breathless as he let your lips free. His tongue slips over his swollen lips.

"Open up," he says, and immediately you open your mouth. He' spits in your mouth, and you swallow. Aegon kisses you again, he twists your nipples and uses your moan to let his tongue slip into your mouth. Your tongues are playing around each other, your whole body is trembling from craving. You feel like you're jumping out of pleasure every moment. But you can't nourish salvation. Aegon's hand moves to your neck, he just leans it, doesn't put any pressure on your throat, but it's enough for your middle to crumble around his cock. This time, Aegon moans in your kiss.

"I need you to come. Princess." He says between two kisses.

You're shaking your head. "I can't do it again."

"Yes. You can." His other hand moves to your clit and he begins to run fast circles as his hips also move a faster rhyme forward. You' moan and shiver. "For me, sister.“ His hand around your neck is slightly pressed, you throw your head back, so you lean into his hand. "Come on your big brother's cock like a good princess." the pressure he puts on your neck and on your clit increase again, and as he again mercilessly push his dick into you, your orgasm breaks over you like a wave. You're screaming so loud you're sure somebody heard you as your body crumbles. Aegon's pushing his dick deep into you. "You're milking my cock princess." you tremble at his words, his hand is still on your neck, even though he no longer cut off your air flow. You can feel the pleasant pulse in the middle of your body and hear your heart beating in your ears as Aegon's lips gently move over your cheek. "You did so good. So good for me.” he's whispering. Again your puls around his dick and his hip moves against yours. You're over-stimulated and trembling, your walls still polishing slightly as Aegon moves again. You're pulling in the air sharply.

"You're doing so good." he whispers and puts his forehead on yours, wet silver hair is sticking on your foreheads.

"Is that okay? Two more sister, just two more." he moves his hips again, and you're stumbling.

"Yes." you bring out. Again his hips rush forward, your legs tremble and your body reacts by itself as your hips move with him. But Aegon is pushing your hips down, pushing into you a few more times, causing you to stumble. "Please brother. Come deep in me.” you cr< and in the next second Aegon's cum flood your body. He stumbles up and lays himself down on you as his hips push his cum deeper into you with gentle strokes. Your legs sling around his body and your arms lay around his shoulders as you pull him to you. You stay in eachothers arms for a moment.

Aegon's body weight is on you and it's a little hard for you to breathe but right now you don't care. Aegon gets up a little bit and smiles at you, kissing your lips briefly.

"Are you all right?" you ask him and a sincere smile appears on his face.

“Yes, I fell good. What about you?"

"Me too," you answer. Aegon bends and kisses you again. Then he carefully pulls out of you. You whimper softly when the pleasant feeling of fullness disappears and you feel his cum running out of you and polluting the white sheets below you.

Aegon sits up and slides to the edge of the bed. You draw your legs to you, without his body heat on you you feel a cold shower. "Wait a minute," Aegon says, wiping his hair out of his face, and then stands up. He walks around the bed and picks up your nightgrown. Aegon throws it at you and you giggle. Then you quickly get into your nightgrown so you can protect yourself a little bit from the cold night air.

Aegon comes back to bed with a cup of wine in his hand. He gives it to you and you take a few sips before you give it back. Aegon empties the cup and puts it to the site.

"Will you stay with me tonight?“you ask while you lie under the blankets.

"If my Lady allows it," he replies in a tone as if he hadn't been balls deep in your cunt five minutes ago.

"I will allow it." you answer him anyway, slide a little to the side and raise the blanket for him. Aegon climbs into bed next to you and puts a arm around you. With his other hand, he pulls you to his thigh, so that you lie half over him. Immediately his hand goes under your night shirt as he draws lazy circles on your skin. Exhausted, you cuddle at his chest. Aegon's kissing your hair . You close your eyes and slowly start to fade away.

A knock on the wall will scare you and Aegon next to you has also opene his eyes again, his grip goes immediately to his sword on the night table.

"I thought I'd find you here." Aemond comes into your room through the secret passage, reflexively you pulling the blanket higher above your body. Aegon next to you takes his hand back from the grip of his sword and looks at your brother angrily.

"What do you want?“ he asks anxiously as he climbs out of bed and gathers his things.

You both know Aemond wouldn´t be here if there wasn't an emergency. You just don't know how bad it is. Aemond waits until Aegon is dressed in pants and shirt.

You look at your brother, an unpleasant feeling becomes widespread in you as his gaze goes first to you and then to Aegon.

"They killed Jaehaerys."

At his words your breath is stifled, and a fierce burning is prepared in your heart. Tears are sprinkled behind your eyes. You look at Aegon, your eyes meet. You've never seen such pain behind his eyes, and you know that your eyes reflect his.

"I have to go to Helaena," he says, and leaves your chambers with quick steps. When the door falls into the lock behind him, you wince. You look at Aemond again. The hot burning in your heart becomes even stronger and walks through your veins until you feel a burning pain in your whole body.

"Aemond." you say and your voice sounds firm and dark. "I want revenge."

"We'll burn them all. They have no chance against Vhagar and Vermithor."

You nod and set yourself up a little further in bed. "We will fly at dawn and at Dusk they will all burn."

[angelictyphoon]

"Can we just..."

Wolfwood pauses, struggling against restlessness, the need for constant motion. His life is a series of divisions, of befores and afters, though the same can be said for anyone. Before first blood, and after. Before Hopeland, and after. Before the Eye, and after. Before the end, and after the beginning.

Fear defined so much of that time, a constant companion ground into flesh and bone and battered soul. There was little room for want, less for living.

And he wanted to live. Beyond survival. Still does.

To see Vash's face light up in such a place is just as much of a balm as the existence of a Geo-Plant this far out in the craggy wastes. There is so much green in the shelter of high canyon walls, in the crashed fuselage repurposed not for horror but for this.

For life after an end.

For a chance to live.

"...Let's stay here a couple days," he concludes, more than half-asking, because they have the space to do that now. To ask. To explore. To be.

Can we just..? 

Wolfwood’s question fades with the wisps of smoke trailing from the tip of his cigarette and Vash watches him in that moment. The breeze carried past their faces does not prickle with grains of sand nor does it form an unpleasant dryness in their throats and noses as they breathe it in. Wolfwood casts his gaze forward and backward, a divide as distinct as the delineation of desert stone funneled out by time and the foliage and shrubs that have sprouted up in their shade.

 “Okay.” 

The Geo-Plant here has flourished despite the odds. He can hear her far below the ground. Vash lifts his palm from the grassy floor and rises from a kneel. On the way up, a leafy plant catches his eye. 

Not that his eyes ever stopped sparkling as soon as they rushed to investigate the scent of green in the air and the murmur of rustling leaves in the canyon, Vash looks more dazzled than he did before.

What he mistook for a mound of clover is something else entirely.

“Wood sorrel!” Vash pinches off a few bunches, happily nibbles off a few leaves, then laughs. “They became a huge problem on Ship Three at one point. Luida was losing her mind and I just…started eating them by the mouthful one day."

A little sour, a little lemony.

"C’mon, try it, Nick.”

[earthslick]

One More Time

notes: art donaldson x fem!reader, reader has a vagina, daddydom!art donaldson, reader and art are in a new relationship, oral (reader receiving), p in v, spit, art gets mean(ish), teasing, creampie, semi-public sex, size kink, dirty talk

word count: 1.3k

warnings: MATURE EXPLICIT CONTENT, 18+ ONLY

With the gloomy, velveteen night back-splashing your silhouette, you share stares with Art. The cluster of brown in the blue of his eyes is barely perceptible. You love looking at them, and you’re not intimidated by them or his staring. At least not anymore. You’ve been dating for long enough to get comfortable and confident in your dynamic. You didn’t really know much about doms and subs before this relationship but the two of you found an easy rhythm, a back-and-forth of building up and easing tension. You like to test then obey, he likes to tease and correct. The rhythm often paralleled his tennis games, wins and losses usually meant him taking control either way. Always.

He slouches in his beach chair, hair wind-tossed and tinted with the moon, flicks his cigarette gently, contemplates your statement.

“No coming back to my room then?”

You roll your eyes.

“I said I’m going to sleep. You should too. You have a match tomorrow.”

He leans forward, gesturing the cigarette towards you.

“I need something from you first.”

You arch a brow, reposition yourself on the rock you’ve been perching on, feigning annoyance.

“Oh boy, let’s hear it”

A corner of his mouth lifts in a smirk and he leans back again, outs his cigarette and shifts his hips slightly.

Shaking his head and chuckling, he says “Come here,” in a familiarly quiet, commanding tone.

Sensing the shift, your stomach flops.

Gathering your senses, you glide as gracefully as you can manage over to him, his legs now spread to let you stand in between them.

“Such a pretty dress on a pretty girl,” he whispers as if to himself, holding the silken hem between his fingers. A touch of the sea breeze glides up underneath your dress, teases between your thighs.

“Thank you, Daddy”, you breathe, your cunt now throbbing against the silk also clothing it.

“Are you wearing panties?”

“Yeah”

“Let me see,” his eyes trailing up the length of you to look at your face.

You slowly bunch your dress around your hips, hesitating slightly at the thought of being caught on the semi-public beach. You can’t help but pulse a little more at the risk, the act of obeying him slipping you into submission.

He gazes at the midnight blue g-string, fabric pearly under the yellow moon. His nostrils flare and he licks his lips, reaching his thumb up to tap gently at your clit. The wetness gathered there makes the taps audible and you whimper. He licks at the pad of his thumb, sucks you off it.

“Fuck…such a sweet pussy, baby. Barely touched you and you’re slick for me.”

He does a firm tug and tucks the sliver of your underwear to the side, against your thigh, exposing you to the night air and his eyes. He doesn’t hesitate, pulling you even closer by your thighs and planting a kiss on your clit. You rest your hands on his broad shoulders, feeling the muscles ripple under your fingertips as you throw your head back, gasping.

He uses both thumbs to spread you, dragging his tongue from your hole to your clit, again and again. And again. Dips into your cunt and feels your walls clamp down on his tongue. Groans deep in his chest at your clenching, your sweet and soft taste. When he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking quickly, you feel yourself nearing your orgasm.

He pulls away. You whine at the sudden absence of stimulation, pouting as you jostle your feet.

“What do you say?” he demands, a warning tone in response to your brattiness.

“Can I cum please Daddy” you let out in a rush of words, aching.

“One more time baby…I didn’t quite catch that”

“Please I’d like to cum Daddy” louder now, your cheeks flaming with humiliation.

He hums and leans back in, sucking at your clit once more. His long finger ghosts the opening of your clenching hole, but never slides in. Between the teasing of his finger and the way his tongue and lips move against you, urgently, you’re gone. You moan loudly and gush into his mouth as your orgasm moves through your entire body. He holds you up easily, doesn’t stop.

“Thaaat’s a good girl. Cum for me just like that.”

His words give you a second wind and you climb a little higher, your climax intensifying. His mouth slows down but doesn’t leave you. He’s groaning and as your mind clears and you glance down, you see his large hand moving over the spot in his jeans holding his massive erection. He releases his hold on you once he knows you can stand on your own and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out. It’s long and thick, with veins running along the sides, one major vein running against the underside connecting to his balls. The tip is flushed pink and prominent. His thumb swipes at the precum at his tip and his hips buck up into his own touch.

“Come sit on Daddy’s cock, angel” he says, stroking himself languidly.

You straddle him in the chair and he lines his cock up with your entrance. As you move to slide down his length, he holds you immobile for a moment, teasing his tip from your hole to your clit.

“You want it so bad, don’t you? But I thought you wanted to go to sleep? What happened?” he mocks, faux pouting in response to your whines, still running his cock along your slit.

“I’m not sleepy anymore” you say ashamedly

He bellows out a laugh, so at ease as if his insistent erection weren’t pressed right where you wanted it most.

“Ok baby” he says simply, pulling you halfway down his cock. You moan wantonly, gripping his shaft with your cunt. His eyes flutter slightly at the sensation and he grips the back of your head to pull you into a kiss. His tongue moves to open your mouth up, dancing against yours. He bites at your bottom lip, sucking it towards him before releasing it. And then he puts his hands on your hips to pull you down the remainder of his length.

“Please” is all you can gasp out, as the fullness knocks the air out of you. He smirks at your helplessness, grinding his hips up to meet yours. The sounds of his thrusts and your wetness turn you on even more and you bear down to meet his grinding.

“That’s it. Grind on my cock and make me cum”

You quicken your pace and lean in for more of his kiss. Gripping your jaw as he plants his feet in the sand, he makes you look right at him.

“Tongue out”

You loll your tongue out, cheeks still squished together in the huge grip of his hand. His eyes darken as he spits on your tongue. You feel his cock flex in your cunt at the sight. You know better than to move, waiting for his next command. He’s in no rush, continuing to pound into you, his eyes rolling to the back of his head for just a moment at the feeling of your cunt tightening even more. When his eyes refocus he lets go of your jaw, both hands gripping your hips once more, hard enough to leave bruises.

“Swallow” he grunts lowly.

You swallow and stick your tongue back out to show him. He nods without saying anything, his pace becoming more erratic. His hips buck once, twice, before you feel the pump of cum up against your cervix. His groan is long and drawn out as his pretty face scrunches with the force of his orgasm. His breath slows as his hips still against you. He fans a hand across your cheek, thumb pulling gently at your lips.

“What do you say?”

“Thank you Daddy”

[chuulyssa]

drunk and driven. (light yagami)

↷ A/N ─ happy belated birthday to light and me !! i hope you enjoy this :) again, this is NOT rape/non-con. the reader is as sober as light here. written by a zombie-me at 4am. also im sorry if the camera topic is overused, i just couldnt help myself fantasizing about this

★ COUNT ─ 2.5k

!! TAGS ─ f!reader, dom!light, drinking, smut, fingering, spanking, unprotected sex, p in v, nicknames (good girl, pretty girl, etc.), edging, begging kink, voyeurism

★ PROLOGUE ─ your boyfriend punishes you for almost letting slip his real identity

SMUT, 18+, MDNI

The dim glow of the television cast shadows around the room. You had been at your high school's farewell party, and had too many drinks there to stumble back home in one piece. It was almost midnight, so there was also no way your boyfriend, Light Yagami, would have let you out of his sight, especially with how tipsy you were. He was quite protective of you, but he was right. You let out a drunk sigh and looked away, silently accepting the fact that you'd have to meet his parents in the morning and share a few awkward exchanges.

Light had had more drinks than you at the party, but he looked far from as drunk as you currently were. He was quietly watching a movie on the TV, stroking your hair lightly. Your gaze went up from Light to the flickering screen. A sudden surge of courage rushed through you.

"Light," you whispered, breaking the silence with your hoarse voice.

"No, you're not going home tonight," Light replied without looking at you.

"No, it's not that," you said frustratedly.

Light raised his eyebrows, hearing you slur your words due to the effects of the alcohol. Still, he did not look at you.

"How much did you drink?"

"Less than what you drank," your throat burned, your eyes drooping slightly.

He ignored you, seemingly engrossed in the movie, but you knew it was all just an act for the cameras L had set up.

You continued, "And it doesn't matter how much I drank, because either way, you refuse to give me attention."

Ryuk snickered in the corner.

Light frowned, finally turning his attention towards you as his eyes trailed down your body. He noticed the dark circles under your eyes, the redness of your cheeks, and the slight swaying of your body.

He looked at you for a few more seconds with a calculating look before sighing and setting the remote on his table. He stood up, "You should really get some sleep."

"No," you repeated.

"I-" Light was starting to get annoyed. "Are you crazy? Don't you want to go home tomorrow?"

"I just- I-" You sighed again, leaning back against your chair and almost falling off.

"Idiot," Light muttered, catching you before you fell. He carried you to his bed and lay you down gently before covering you with his blanket. "Are you comfortable? Do you want me to sleep on the floor?"

"No, no, I need cuddles," you smiled drunkenly, completely forgetting what you were going to say back when you had gotten some "courage".

"Of course, you do," Light said proudly. "You need my cuddles to sleep."

You hummed in response. As he snottily took his shirt off before lying down next to you, you closed your eyes slightly. They were burning, as if trying to stop you from both closing them and keeping them open.

His hands made their way to your back, gently pushing your neck to his bare chest. You finally shut your heavy eyelids and snuggled closer to him. This was what you always wanted. Just you and Light. Alone.

You furrowed your eyebrows, your eyes still tightly shut, your face pressed against him. Alone? It was laughable that you thought even for a moment that you two were alone right now. Well, for one, there was a God of Death in the same room as you, trying not to pass out from the lack of apples in his digestive system. Second, a great detective was watching the two of you, possibly along with your boyfriend's own father.

Light pulled you even closer to him, inhaling your scent deeply. Soon, the two of you drifted off to dreamland, and L was left questioning whether the seventeen-year-old star student really was a murderer.

You woke up, limbs tangled with Light's. You checked your wristwatch. About four hours had passed, and as you tried to sit up, your head felt heavy from an early hangover. Light's eyes jerked open. He had always been a light sleeper.

"Hm?" he mumbled in his sleep, no longer feeling the presence of your head in the crook of his neck. "What's the matter, honey?"

"I... had a dream," you said slowly.

"Nightmare?"

"Kinda."

Light sat up slowly and reached out for a glass of water to hand to you.

You peeked into the glass, rubbing your left eye until you saw stars.

"Vodka?" you said hopefully.

"Water," he replied calmly.

You pouted pleadingly; more alcohol was what you needed right now, but you eventually had to resign to your boyfriend. You drank the water, and instantly felt much more sober than you were before. Your sleepy eyes fell on Ryuk, his legs and hands in a rather uncomfortable position, perhaps due to not having apples for such a long time.

For a moment, you, for the second time that night, completely forgot about the existence of the cameras.

You turned to Light. "How long is he going to go without apples?"

"Who, honey?" Light's eyes flashed warningly, but you were far too sleepy to notice.

"Ryuk, your Shini-"

Your words were cut off by a sharp kiss. Light had completely thrown himself at you, and you fell back down on the bed due to the sheer force of his abrupt kiss. The empty glass landed on the floor with a loud clink, but he ignored it. His hands reached under your shirt, his nails digging into the skin of your hips as if daring you to talk further.

You attempted to prop yourself up on your elbows, to gain some kind of control over what was happening. But Light pushed you back down, pulling you by your hips and roughly throwing your head down on the pillow.

He pulled away eventually, the pupils of his eyes completely red, and you cursed yourself mentally. This was not your Light. This was Kira.

He leaned away from you, got up to pick up the thrown glass and filled it with water again, but as he offered it to you, you rejected it. "I'm sober enough for this, Light."

"Very well then," Light whispered and leaned in closer to your ear. "I hope you remember you're being watched. Make sure you put on a show."

You nodded slowly, letting his hands roam around and make their way to the hem of your skirt, twirling the fabric around his fingers. He brought another hand to your top and slid it under the cloth, feeling the material of your satin bra.

"The one I gifted to you?" he raised his eyebrows, a little smirk on his face.

"Yes," you whispered, pulling his bare chest against your clothed one. "Strip me, Light."

"What's the magic word?" he teased, hand slipping under your bra and cupping your breast.

"Please," you whimpered when he pinched your nipple.

Ryuk snapped his eyes open and tumbled out of the room clumsily, perhaps to give you some privacy.

"Good girl," he didn't hide his smirk this time as he pulled your top off completely, throwing it to the side where it landed on his chair next to his own shirt. He ran his hands down your back, grabbing the zipper of your skirt and slowly pulling it down. Light slid the skirt down your legs, leaving you in a matching set of satin underwear and bra.

"Pretty," he murmured, his hand grasping his growing bulge tightly.

"Let me help you with that," you sat up on all fours and leaned in closer, a hand stretched out to touch his crotch.

You rubbed him lightly, slowly increasing your pace before unbuckling his belt and slipping your hand under his boxers. Your constant touching of his tip made him groan, hand reaching out to yank you by your hair and push you back down to the bed. You grabbed his hands and brought them to your breasts, pressing them against your chest.

"Take my bra off."

"I'm not a man to be told what to do," he said, bringing his lips down to your neck. "But I will allow it this time."

Light freed his hands from your grip and brought them to your back, unclasping the hook of your bra and letting it fall to the floor. He cupped your breasts in his hands, lowering himself so that his mouth sucked on one nipple while his hand squeezed the other.

"Fuck," you moaned, pushing his head against your chest.

He grabbed your hand and brought it once more to his crotch, letting you feel the bulge in his pants again.

"You're not the only one who's needy right now."

"You're so- god, I can't wait to feel you inside me," you said, rubbing his dick through the fabric.

"Patient girls are rewarded," he said, dragging his lips from your neck to your collarbone, his free hand ripping your panties off.

"Hey!" you whisper-screamed.

"I'll buy you another set," he said calmly, sliding two fingers inside you, curling them up and hitting your g-spot.

"Yes," you moaned, pushing his hand against your pussy. "Faster."

He brought his other hand from your nipple to your clit and started rubbing it in circles, simultaneously fucking you with his fingers.

"Fuck, I'm going to come," you whimpered after a few minutes, feeling your orgasm build.

"Mhm, do it, what a good girl," he said, rubbing your clit faster, aiding your release. You came hard on his fingers, arching your back, bucking against his hand and moaning loudly. Your legs shook, while he pulled his fingers out of your pussy and brought them to your mouth. "Clean them."

You nodded, sucking on his fingers, your teeth digging into his skin. Light smirked.

"Don't you think you should be punished?"

"Huh-? For what, Li-?"

Your words were cut off once again when he pulled you onto his lap so that your ass faced him and you lay on your stomach, pussy pressed against his crotch.

_ _ _ _

"L, I don't think we should be watching this," Soichiro Yagami kept his eyes away from the screen, where his son, his perfect little son, was busy fingering his girlfriend. He hadn't even known he had a girlfriend, let alone the fact that they were so... intimate with each other.

"There has to be some meaning in what the girl said," L racked his brains, eyes scanning the scene, now showing you in Light's lap and his hand rubbing your ass. "Apples?"

"For god's sake, it may be some sort of safeword for when they- for when they do- this," Soichiro yelled, his eyes on the floor.

"It's not a mere coincidence, Mr Yagami," L said thoughtfully. "Apples? Kira told me 'Shinigamis' loved apples earlier. This is not a coincidence, Mr Yagami."

_ _ _ _

"You're going to be punished for fucking everything up," he whispered in your ear before smacking your ass hard. "Count."

"One!" you yelped, feeling the sting of his hand on your ass. "Two!" "Three!" "Four!" "Five!"

He kept spanking you, alternating between your ass cheeks. You could feel his dick hard against your stomach, and ignoring the pain in your ass, you started to grind against it.

"Six!" "Seven!" "Eight!"

He spanked you harder, and you could feel your ass getting red. You were breathing heavily, and your pussy was so wet that it was dripping onto his lap.

"Nine! Ten!"

_ _ _ _

"Can we stop watching this now?" Soichiro groaned.

"There has to be some hint," L traced the screen with his fingers which showed you getting spanked hard by Light now.

Soichiro let out an uncomfortable sigh.

"Mr Yagami, you can close your ears and eyes," L said without looking away from the screen.

_ _ _ _

"Good girl," Light said, rubbing your ass. "Now, a reward."

He slid his pants and boxers down to his legs and wiggled out of them. He brought his dick to your pussy, rubbing its head against your clit and earning a moan from your pursed lips. He flipped you over, pinning you under him on the bed again as he continued to tease you.

"Please, Light," you begged, trying to reach out for his dick so you could push it in.

"Please what?" he said sweetly and you groaned in annoyance.

"Please fuck me."

He smiled and pushed his dick inside you slowly, savouring every inch of your tight pussy.

"Oh!" you wailed, feeling his cock stretch your pussy.

He started bucking his hips in and out, fucking you harder as his balls slapped against your clit, doubling the pleasure. He was careful not to make a sound, but he didn't stop you from letting your strangled moans out. This would be your punishment, facing his mother in the morning after getting fucked so hard by him at night.

You tried very hard to suppress your lustful sounds, eyes welling up at the thought of facing his family in a few hours, but you couldn't. He was too good. He knew just how to get under your skin. Slowly, you felt your second orgasm approaching.

"Ah, ah! I want to come," you clasped your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from screaming. He was going so hard on you, of course, his mother and his sister would wake up if he continued.

"No, you're not. Hold it in," Light commanded. "You're going to come when I say so."

He kept fucking you harder, and you could feel your orgasm building. This was torture. There was no way you could hold yourself in when he was going so hard on you.

"Please, Light," you begged, feeling your pussy clench around his dick. "I can't hold it in anymore."

"Hold it in, I said," he said, flipping you over again and spanking your ass hard. He increased his speed, and you buried your head in a pillow to muffle your screams. "I'm going to come inside you now. Understood?"

You could feel his cock twitching inside you, and you knew he wasn't lying about his orgasm. You nodded slowly, voice still distant because of the pillow.

He let out a long, satisfied groan as he released his juices inside you, pushing his dick deep inside you. You could feel his cum filling your pussy, and it sent you over the edge.

"Now, come for me, pretty girl," Light said in a hoarse voice.

"Yes!" you screamed, feeling your orgasm wash over you. His cum was dripping out of your pussy, and you could feel his cock softening inside you.

"Good," he said, pulling his cock out of you. It was scary how calm and composed he was when a minute ago, he had spanked you so hard. He grabbed a towel and wiped your pussy clean.

_ _ _ _

Soichiro blinked at the abrupt ending of the sounds. Still refusing to look up at the screen, he asked, "Is it over now?"

"They're both still naked," L said, analyzing the place, feeling his own dick harden at your bare figure, panting and sweating as Light got off you and laid next to you, throwing the towel somewhere insignificant.

"Well then?" Soichiro said.

"Well what?"

"You made me watch my son... doing- doing stuff with his girlfriend," Soichiro said in a shaky voice, his hands behind his back to avoid pulling his hair out in frustration. "What have you understood from this?"

"What I've understood?" L said thoughtfully, his gaze unconsciously reaching his growing bulge. "Your son is quite romantic, I suppose."

© chuulyssa, 2024 - do not copy, plagiarize or repost my works on any platforms. do not translate.

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Gangsters Wife

♥ masterlist | request rules

♥ pairing: mafiaboss!carlos sainz x fem!wife!reader

♥ synopsis: things start to change for you and your marriage-of-convenience husband after you stitch up his wounds

♥ one-shot - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing and vague descriptions of smut - p in v (wrap it before you tap it) !!!

♥ a/n: i wrote on my vacation lol. i’m a little nervous to post this since it’s uncharted writing territory for me but i hope you enjoy reading it <3

You sat on the black satin sheets of your bed, waiting for your husband to come back from business. You knew you should probably be asleep; that he wouldn’t want you up worrying for him, but here you were wide awake. 

It wasn’t like the two of you married for love, anyway. It was much more out of convenience. His job was… interesting, but you weren’t complaining about the luxury that you now lived in due to the arrangement. 

Your breath hitched as you heard the door unlock, assuming it was Carlos. He made his way towards the bedroom and immediately locked eyes with you. His hair was slicked to the side and he had a couple of cuts on his face. He was wearing a red shirt, the sleeves rolled to his elbows, black dress pants, some black shoes, and an expensive watch. 

“Go to bed,” he demanded, removing the ticking object from his wrist and laying it down in a drawer with the rest of his collection. 

“I couldn’t sleep,” you admitted, rustling in the bed sheets. 

“I’m alright if that’s what you’re wondering,” he swiped his thumb over the blood on his bottom lip. “Get some rest.” 

You slowly stood up and strolled over to him.  Your gaze dropped down to the ripped fabric on his side, presumably from a fight. 

“Were you stabbed?” you asked in a whisper. 

“Lightly.”

“Lightly? What does lightly mean?”

He began unbuttoning his shirt, though it didn’t take long before it was off of him. The moonlight from a small open window illuminated his body, his muscles were strained, covered in sweat, and there was a wound flooded with blood on his abdomen. 

“It’s not that deep,” he murmured.

“Literally or figuratively? Because it looks like the knife went in pretty far.” You softly grazed his skin with the light touch of your fingertips. 

You walked over to your nightstand and pulled out a small stitch kit. 

“Sit down,” you commanded him, nodding towards the edge of the bed. 

“I’m fine. I can do this on my own.” 

“I said sit. down.” 

He took a deep, agitated sigh and did as you told him. You dampened a rag in the bathroom and returned to clean the blood off his wound.

You threaded the needle and pierced it through his skin, beginning the first stitch. 

“Are you sure you’re qualified for this?” he asked. 

You nodded, “I wouldn’t have married you without knowing how to do this.” 

He hummed and your left hand went to his waist to hold him still. He could feel the coldness of the silver wedding ring he gave you only a few months ago. 

You finished pulling the last part of the thread and cut the excess off. 

“There,” you said, pressing your palm gently against his abs.

He pulled you onto his lap and his hands firmly gripped your thighs. You made a soft sound and ground down onto his belt. 

“Tomorrow, amor.” he stopped you and whispered. “Let’s go to bed.” 

-

You woke up first at 7. You had rolled over to find your husband awake, messaging someone on his phone.

“Go back to sleep cariño,” he mumbled, running one of his hands over your hair.

You grabbed his hand and kissed his palm, slowly making your way up his arm.

“Amor,” he warned.

“What? You said tomorrow… it’s tomorrow.”

The next thing you knew he had you pinned down by your neck. His phone rang on the nightstand and he used his free hand to pick it up, still thrusting into you as he did so.

“Leave us alone,” he said and hung up instantly.

Leave. Us. Alone.

You woke up again at 9, this time alone in your bed. You wandered into the kitchen to see your husband making breakfast.

“Carlitos?” you ask, a faint smile teasing your lips. “Where’s the chef?” 

“I sent him home.”

“You’ve never cooked for me before,” you took a seat on the barstool at the counter. 

“I’ve never cooked for anyone before,” he admitted.

He set some pancakes on a plate and handed it to you.

You hummed, “No syrup?”

He shrugged “I don’t think we have any. I usually eat mine just the dough.”

It was odd having a conversation like this with Carlos. The two of you weren’t used to making small talk.

“Uhm, how do you feel? Are any of your cuts infected?” you asked.

“No, I feel fine,” he said putting cooking supplies away as you ate. “The stitching you did is good but i’ll probably still get my doctor to look at it.”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” you replied, picking at your food as his phone rang.

He flipped it open to answer a call from an unknown number. From the muffled spanish voice on the other end you assumed it was from Fernando. 

“Sí, I’ll be there soon.” Carlos said and hung up the phone. 

“I’ll be back,” he told you, walking out the front door without a goodbye.

Your eyes caught the abundance of bodyguards that entered the room to block the exits and entrances. You sighed and slouched, tapping your nails on the marble counter. Great. Just when things were starting to get good. 

[burnyouwithacigarettelighter]

TOEING THE LINE ─── robert fischer ✧𖦹

ೃ⁀➷ “Love him. Love him and let him love you. Do you think anything else under heaven really matters?” — ‘Giovanni’s Room’, James Baldwin.

pairing. robert fischer x secretary!reader

summary. being robert’s secretary means doing everything for him. everything.

warnings. swearing, oral sex (m), creampie, p in v, mention of handjob, sex as stress relief, intimacy issues, quickies, crying, fluff, SMUT UNDER THE CUT! 

word count. 6.8k

a/n. honestly this is just downright filth. robert & reader’s relationship/the way they treat each other is also a little confusing so i apologize LOL

i. 

Being Robert’s secretary means doing everything for him: sending congratulatory gifts to his clients, picking up his drycleaning, answering his emails, and even booking his dentist appointments.

It means doing everything he asks, and everything you think he needs; he trusts your judgment, he said, because you know more about him than anyone in the entire world — even himself. 

It means doing everything for him. Everything.

Robert had heaved a large sigh as he sat down in the backseat of his car; undone his tie; ran a veiny hand through his gelled hair. From that much, you could tell he was stressed. You knew him like the back of your hand, and, after being his secretary for three years, you also knew what relieved him best.

Your lips are wrapped around his cock the moment he gets home. 

You were kneeling between his legs, hands curling around the base of his cock and stroking whatever you couldn’t fit - which wasn’t much, your throat having long since been trained to take his length all the way. 

Grunts and groans spilled out of his mouth above you, but you didn’t look at him; you never looked at him - he’d been adamant about that, when you first sucked him off. Robert never told you why, just that your gaze should never reach his; you thought it had something to do with his vulnerability, his parental issues rearing its ugly head in every part of his life, even his sexual one. 

Robert’s hands wrapped around your wispy locks, giving you a makeshift ponytail, and you flicked small licks on his tip before descending back down on him. His grip on your hair tightened, and as you curled your warm tongue along his shaft, he began to bob your head up and down on him, faster, harder, hard enough tears formed in your eyes. 

He was stressed, so he was rough. But you took it in stride: he was your boss, after all, paying you the big bucks for your service, be it actual secretarial duties or requests just a step away from prostitution. 

You gag, once or twice, on account of how brutally the head of his cock is bruising the back of your throat, and Robert slows down; stills like he’s nervous you’ll break, but you continue expertly, focussing on lapping up the beads of precome spilling from his slit. You breathed in and out shakily, ignoring the ache in your jaw. 

His hands then left your hair, instead fumbling for the armrests of the leather chair and squeezing down on them as his back arched and his head threw back: he was close.

When one of your hands left his length and reached down to fondle his balls, Robert let go, a stuttered moan leaving him, and he released his load straight down your throat. You felt it spurt and coat your mouth, wet and thick. The only thing left in the room was your breathing, his high and tinny, yours haggard and desperate for oxygen. 

After a moment, you got up, noting how tight your legs felt while wiping a drop of come from the side of your mouth with your thumb. “Rest up, Mr. Fischer,” you insisted gently, resuming immediate professionalism, “you have a nine-o-clock with the head of Proclus Global tomorrow.”

Between breaths, Robert finally looked at you with heavy-lidded eyes, buttoning his dress pants back up. “Saito?” he wondered aloud. 

You nodded silently in response. It was certainly odd to inform Robert about his schedule and meetings like you didn’t just have his hard cock in your mouth, but after three years it became part of the job. You reckon you could ride him and still arrange his doctors appointments by phone. 

“I’ll see you in the morning, Mr. Fischer.” You addressed him with that title, ‘Mr. Fischer’, to keep a distance. Despite what you often did for him, you still considered yourself just his subordinate; just his secretary. 

You then turned, kitten heels clacking quietly on his hardwood floor, primly and properly leaving his condo with the taste of his salty come still imprinted on your tongue. 

ii. 

By eight am sharp, you’ve returned to his condo. Robert would need a little more than what he got last night, especially since he’d be meeting Saito, like you said. 

You mapped out his habits and what he was like a long, long time ago. He’s got a higher-than-average sex drive, but no time to be in a relationship with anyone — thus, your duties. Blowjobs after a long day and a quickie at least five times a week are a must, and never, ever, kiss him. 

Robert’s… well, a slight sex addict, having to regularly fuck or get pleasured just to keep sane, but intimacy’s got him hiding under the covers like he’s just seen a ghost. You, on the other hand, can’t discern the difference between if you have sex and kiss or just have sex - it's both sex. 

It’s just a thing that needs to be done in the end, and in Robert’s case, it’s like eating or sleeping: he needs it to live, so he gets it and lives. Simple as that. There are no feelings between you two, and it’s been that way for as long as you’ve been his secretary. 

You entered Robert’s condo easily, having a key and all, where you then found him pacing in his large walk-in closet, fiddling with his rings. 

You knocked lightly on the wall to alert him, stepping in when he noticed you and visibly relaxed. “Good morning, Mr. Fischer.” you stated, setting his drycleaning down on one of the velvet settee benches in the middle of the room. 

“Morning,” Robert said absently. Without warning nor another word, he stepped closer to you, hands immediately pressing into your waist. His palms were sweaty, a feverish need radiating off him as he kneaded at you, pressing you against one of the many closet doors. 

He was nervous, no doubt the result of the impending meeting with Saito, which equated a frenzied mood sexually. So, you wasted no time, quickly unbuckling his trousers and unzipping his fly, letting your stockings pool at your ankles, hiking your skirt up to your hips. 

Robert’s hands grasped at your soft thighs, lifting a leg around him as one of your hands slipped down the waistband of his underwear, pulling his cock out. You pumped his length slowly, before spitting into your other hand, pushing your panties to the side and coating your cunt in the slick. You decorated your lips with the wetness, then carefully lined up his thick head with your entrance. 

You bit your lip, wincing as he pushed in; no matter how many times you’d fucked — which was plenty — you always felt that stinging stretch when he first entered you. 

From then on, Robert focussed solely on his own pleasure; on ridding himself of that anxious need, trying to fuck his insecure feelings deep into your cunt prior to seeing Saito. He grunted, a string of breathless curses leaving his mouth with every harsh thrust, just snapping his hips against yours repeatedly and chasing his high. 

Your face was pressed flat against the shoulder of his cashmere suit jacket, and you shut your eyes, letting Robert use you - use your hole, specifically. You’d asked him once why he didn’t just masturbate or use a sextoy, and he told you that nothing beats a hot, wet cunt. 

It didn’t matter to him what the girl looked like or what she cost, as long as her pussy felt good. That’s how he hired you: you’d spent an entire month by his side, and before returning to America from his vacation in Sydney, he confessed he’d never taken a cunt as delicious as yours. He didn’t have time to date, but he did have time for a secretary. 

That was the most vulnerable you’d ever seen him, pleading for you to work under him, just so he could feel your plush pussy clenching around his cock once more. You’d never been a secretary before, but he promised you’d be taught, that the pay would be good, and that once he got married you could be whatever you wanted in the company - as long as, while you were still his secretary, you’d fuck him when he asked.

“Fuck,” Robert growled out near your ear, pounding mercilessly into your sopping cunt. Despite the selfishness of this quickie, him paying absolutely no mind to you, you couldn’t help how your mouth went ajar and your hips rutted into his. 

Robert had the best dick you’d ever fucking felt, average length but girthy, stretching you wide open. That first time you’d fucked, the one night stand, he kept telling you how tight your cunt was around his thick cock, and the next time after that, he remarked how you were just as tight as before. He was impressed, it seemed, how after each round of splitting you open with his dick, you always seemed to tighten back up.

You bit your lip, fighting back any moans from leaving your mouth, and focussed on gripping your arms around Robert’s neck. You noted how one of his hands dug into you soft thighs, pulling you toward him and sliding in and out of you desperately, like he’d never fuck again, while his other hand came up to the crown of your head, petting you softly. 

Though your mind was foggy with pleasure, you knew it was an out-of-character gesture: being gentle with you, acknowledging your presence rather than just your cunt. Robert wasn’t a romantic man - you didn’t think he knew how to romance someone, especially since his parents' marriage certainly wasn’t winning any awards for perfection.

So, just doing that had the gears in your mind turning. You’d fucked him for three years straight, and not for a moment did he ever do something like that. 

But then, as you were building toward an orgasm, that familiar pull in your stomach sending heat over your body, begging to go faster, Robert came, jetting his creamy load deep within you — and you forgot all about his odd actions. 

“Feel s’good,” he mumbled, fucking you still. You were unsure whether he meant his high or your cunt, but nonetheless, he came down from his orgasm by shoving his come deeper in your cunt with his length. 

Then, “What - time is it?” he said breathlessly, quickly pulling his softening cock out of your pussy and turning away so as not to face you. 

You blinked rapidly, leaning against the wall and trying to regain your composure, ignoring the grief swelling in your insides at the incompletion of your orgasm. “8– 8:10, sir.” 

Robert hummed in acknowledgment, still not looking at you as he redressed himself. You took in your boss’s form, how quickly his attitude changed from desperate to stone cold after sex; after receiving what he needed, like a fucking transaction, and you suddenly felt shameful: this here was one of the most powerful men in the world, owner of Fischer Morrow, and there you were, his secretary and fucktoy he could replace at any time. 

You weren’t special - you weren’t anything, especially not to him. If - no, when, he meets someone who pleasures him better, you’re out of a job. He said he’d help you when he got married, but you don’t think that’s happening anytime soon… and you know Robert: he’ll get tired of you, like the spoiled little kid he probably was, and will just find some other toy to play with. 

“I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Mr. Fischer.” you informed him numbly after pulling up your panties and stockings, shakily stepping out of the walk-in closet. It wasn’t often you felt like this - this being pathetic and used, because on the surface, this job was perfection. Good pay, good reputation, a boss who fucks you - and fucks you good. 

Sure, you could probably count on one hand how many times he made you come in these past three years, but it still felt nice, even if he never drove you past the edge. But, these days… you started wondering if this was the rest of your life. 

You couldn’t get a boyfriend, no, not without lying to him about what you did for a living, and there was still that uncertainty in the stability of this job. Robert had deep parental and intimacy issues - as stated by his therapist, in which, after eight weeks of seeing him Robert left in a fitful, teary, suffocating rage - and, beneath his cold exterior, was a hotpot of bubbling emotions he never deigned to reveal until he was seconds away from blowing up. 

In short: Robert was the most moody, unpredictable person you’d ever met, and working under him was like balancing on a tightrope. Because he never said what irritated him, always emotionlessly telling you to stop if he preferred you didn’t do something, you could never tell what was actually pushing all the wrong buttons. 

Before waiting in his condo’s front lobby like you said, you ducked into one of his many bathrooms and wiped the warm come dripping down your leg, flushing as you saw the ruined state of your panties and stockings: his white load had smeared all over the fabric, and, while you could get most of it off your dark stockings, it stayed on your underwear. 

You had to wear his come on your panties for the entire day, and in a way, it felt like Robert owned you. 

That’s why… you had decided to quit. You wrote your two weeks three months ago and have been holding onto it ever since — because you didn’t know how to tell him you wanted to quit, especially since your heart didn’t want to. 

Your head knew you were meant for more than secretarial duties and a quick fuck, but your heart ached for the lonely being that was Robert Fischer. That young CEO whose grievous relationship with his father was aired out in the newspaper, the man who went through succeeding the company as well as any young person could: fumbling, being crushed by the weight of his late father’s suffocating legacy, and the boy who didn’t know why he could never get his fathers love or approval. 

The heart wants what it wants, but the head knows best. You resolved to hand him your resignation by the end of the day, listening to your head, and got ready to leave this part of your life behind; to leave Robert Fischer behind. 

iii.

“What's this?” Robert asked in his office without looking up at you, gaze still trained on the papers he was signing. You had entered his office to deliver his mail and ask questions about various appointments - when best to schedule that lunch with his godfather, that kind of stuff. 

And… to hand him your 2-weeks. 

“It’s my 2-weeks, Mr. Fischer.” 

“…What?” Robert set his weighted fountain pen down, looking up in disbelief.

“I’m resigning, sir.” You said gingerly, gaze trailing away from his own, ignoring how his expression went from neutral to crestfallen.

“I pay you well enough, I’m sure?” He said, sounding frantic and not doing the best job of hiding it with the shaky smile on his face. 

“It’s not - about the pay. I’m just… I’m ready to do other things.” 

There it was: you didn’t want to wait until he got tired of you and kicked you to the curb. This job was fucking comfortable, and that unnerved you. Working diligently, fucking him diligently, saving up money your younger self would’ve never thought could ever come your way - it was comfortable and you were used to it, but you just… couldn’t take it anymore. 

You weren’t going anywhere like this. Not with Robert, not with your life, not with yourself. When you first took this job, you wanted to help him. Call it naive pity, but you thought the terribly mournful Robert Fischer could be fixed by getting fucked. God, your younger self had been out of her mind. 

So, here you were, three years later and resigning from one of the wealthiest men in the world, heart begging you not to, head wanting to leave immediately. 

Robert sighed, but nodded slightly. “Okay. Okay. I’ll send you your wages as soon as possible, and I can write a recommendation for your next—“

“There’s no need, Mr. Fischer,” you protested quietly. “My duties here weren’t exactly… just secretarial.”

Robert blanched, but agreed quietly. As you were about to leave, he spoke up. “Are you… free tonight?”

You tilted your head slightly, processing the topic change. “I have no plans for the evening, if that’s what you’re asking. I can come over after work—“

“No— no, not…” Robert grimaced, pressing two fingers between his eyes. “Proclus Global’s holding a charity gala. Tonight. Come with me; it’ll be your last event as my secretary.”

Your face warmed at your previous assumption he just wanted to fuck. “…Certainly, Mr. Fischer. There’s no need to ask, I’m obligated to agree.”

“I don’t… I don’t want to ruin any plans you have.” Robert’s lips pressed into a thin white line at your words. “If it - you don’t—“ He sighed, unable to say what he wanted properly, “You don’t have to say yes to everything I ask of you.”

“Work takes precedent, sir. You’re my boss - it’s only natural I follow orders.”

Then: “If that’s all,” you said, before promptly exiting his office, turning away and ignoring how crestfallen he looked. 

It was normal for you to accompany him to various events, seeing as he was single, and you were his hot, young secretary — and it was an expected duty of yours after the first time you went with him. 

You couldn’t figure out why his behavior had suddenly changed, why he’d become considerate— but perhaps it was because you were quitting. Although Robert’s emotional state was generally unpredictable, you supposed the professional part of him wanted to send you off nicely; have these last two weeks of yours not be soured. 

Anyway, it seemed inviting Robert to the gala was what Saito was here for - and, presumably, to add some pressure onto Robert, since their companies were rivals. Robert was always… bothered, you could say, prior to seeing Saito. 

The man made it a habit, consciously or unconsciously, to set Robert off, either by not-so-innocently referencing the late Maurice Fischer in their conversations, or by down right comparing Robert to him. It certainly wasn’t motivated by a personal grudge, no, Saito just wanted to see Fischer Morrow suffer, and for Proclus Global to rise. It was business politics, something you couldn’t - and didn’t want to - wrap your head around. 

The only thing you had in mind now was if you’d dressed up well enough: you had a small collection of gowns that you’d gathered over the years attending events with Robert, but every time, he gave you his card and told you to pick out something nice. You guessed that he was the kind of man who preferred to always show up in something new, something better — and that translated to whoever was perched on his arm.

That, being you, who’d bought a black satin and lace dress with a slit on the left thigh. You knew what Robert usually wore to these occasions, so you dressed accordingly - and it was an accurate foretelling, to say the least. When you’d entered Robert’s condo, he was standing in the lobby, strapping a Tudor onto his left wrist. He was head to toe in black satin, just as you were, hair neatly coiffed against his forehead. 

Your heels clacked loudly on the lobby tile, and he noticed your presence. “Black satin,” he scanned you up and down, “good.”

“Of course, Mr. Fischer.” You said politely, taking his arm when he lifted it up. The two of you headed to the car, and you didn’t miss how Robert opened the door for you first, like you really were his date for that night. 

His behavior throughout that entire day had been downright weird, and even more so now, because if you really pressed Robert, he’d tell you you were just a piece of eye candy for his clients to ogle over, so they’d lower their guards; get distracted and forget to pry him for information regarding the company. 

When you got to the event — which was taking place in a grand banquet hall in one of the many buildings Saito and his wife owned — a flock of people amassed, all greeting Robert and not-so-subtly alluding for him to head over to their table and discuss business matters. 

There were also various clients and colleagues of Robert’s who’d come over to catch up with the young CEO, and many of them commented, as usual, about the plus-one by his side. 

“And who’s this beautiful young lady?” One of the older men asked, raking his gaze all over you. It was clear as day: all of the men there were undressing you with their eyes. 

You didn’t shy away, however, instead smiling thinly. “I’m Mr. Fischer’s secretary,” you told the group, tilting your head slightly and baring your canines. They could stare at you all they liked, but you weren’t interested in letting them know much more about you than your position. 

It didn’t matter, anyway - finding out you were just his secretary made them see you differently. In whispered tones, they’d tell Robert they’d give anything to see you squirming beneath them, and he’d laugh a hollow laugh that didn’t reach his eyes and certainly didn’t come from the heart. To keep up appearances, buttering up his clients and letting them believe he was an easygoing guy, Robert would agree good-naturedly, but not without looking abashed, like he was too professional to actually ever breach that line. 

Like his hand hadn’t disappeared from your arm, trailing across your backside and groping the soft fat of your ass, digging into you. Like you hadn’t stroked his cock in the car, gently pumping him with your spit-slicked hand.  

You then broke away from Robert and the large group of businessmen to chase after a waiter who was holding a tray of champagne. In doing so you found out that Saito’s wife was, really, the main host of this charity ball when she, and several other women and wives of said business men, crowded around you, not unlike their husbands did to Robert. 

You greeted them kindly, blandly replying to their invasive questions: no, I’m just Mr. Fischer’s secretary, no, he is not accepting marriage proposals, sure, I can set up a meeting between you and one of our energy advisors if you give Fischer Morrow a call tomorrow. 

You let them talk circles over themselves, silently nodding, for Robert always reminded you to speak as little as possible. It would do no good for them to assume you and Robert were together —  they’d tear you apart. 

When the conversation drew its focus away from you entirely, you skittered away to find the waiter from earlier. An hour or two had passed since you’d arrived at the gala, and you indulged, letting yourself down a couple more glasses of that addictive drink. You were just about to grab one more, when you conveniently reunited with your boss and date for the night. 

Robert looked peeved, perhaps something to do with how boisterously Saito was laughing across the hall, and in a moment of quick thinking, you pulled him closer to you. “Mr. Fischer,” you whispered, voice tranquil, “if all has been accomplished for the night, I suggest we take our leave.”

He looked up at you, oddly, like he was seeing you for the first time. “Yes,” he agreed quietly, “yes… you’re quite right.” 

Without any goodbyes, the two of you swiftly hooked arms once more, and exited the building. The cool night air bristled around you, nipping at your skin, and Robert’s hands dropped from your arm, instead slipping into your own and keeping you close to him. 

At the car, he opened the door for you again, helping you in gently, before sliding in on the opposite side. When you turned to face him, he absently brushed something out of your hair with his long, nimble fingers. “Dust,” he said simply, peering deep into your eyes. 

You stared back at him, but your thoughts were elsewhere. He’d never toed the line like this before; 

he’d never looked you in the eyes so much, held your hand, plucked something out of your hair or pet you or held you so close — out of the context of sex —  that you could smell his cologne. He had never been so compassionate, so romantic, like this relationship of yours was organic and authentic, not transactional and emotionless. 

The car ride back to his condo was quiet. His hand did not find yours again, not even to hungrily snake up your thigh and under your skirt — Robert was frozen, staring out the window and nowhere at all meeting your gaze. 

Finally, when you got back to his place, you trailed after him — he trusted you to do what he asked and to do what you thought he needed, and that look of vexation he’d had before leaving only meant one thing to you: he was bothered, and a bothered boss does not mean good business. 

When you’d both entered his bedroom, Robert stopped, and turned to face you. His hands found yours, tenderly slipping his fingers into your own and pulling you close to him, and you backtracked. 

“Mr. Fischer?” You murmured, feeling how his rough skin brushed against you. “What are you… doing?” you questioned, your mind filled to the brim with the same question: what was Robert feeling right now? About you? For you?

He called your name out softly, like it was the only word he knew, shining blue eyes examining you intensely and flicking down to your lips every so often. “Don’t quit. I - I… need you.” 

Your brows knitted - so it was about your resignation. “Mr. Fischer, you don’t need me, you… you need sex, you need someone to - to fuck you—“ You protested, wrenching yourself away from his grip.

“No! No. I don’t need you like that. I need you, not - not your fucking cunt, I - can’t live without you.” Robert’s hands pulled you back to him, holding you close like you’d crumble into ash if he didn’t. 

Then, he kissed you, soft lips benevolently pressing into your own, long and deep like he was trying to melt into your touch. He was slow and chaste but there was a hint of desperation in his saliva, like he wanted to consume you, and you him. 

You pulled back, alarmed, your chests rising and falling in sync. Robert had kissed you; he had crossed the line he vehemently set, the line he commanded be kept in place. You blinked, mouth opening and closing, unable to form words. 

“Robert,” You said at last. Robert, not Mr. Fischer. Not Mr. Fischer, not now, not with how quickly his face had fallen from feverish to devastated. “you don’t think you love me, do you?”

Robert’s brows furrowed. “Think?” He repeated incredulously. “Do I think I love you— god, I… I do love you. I don’t think I love you, I know I’m in love with you.”

You looked at him dolefully, willing your heart not to beat out of your chest. “But why? I am certain you can’t answer that, Robert, because you don’t love me, you are - are merely feeling abandoned—“

“I love you because you know more about me than anyone in the entire world—“

“That is my job, Robert—“

“No, it’s not, and you fucking know it. You did more than I’ve ever asked of you: you know me, Robert, not Mr. Fischer, CEO of Fischer Morrow. You know me.” His finger dug into his chest, enunciating each point, and you couldn’t help the way his words swayed you - consciously or not. 

In your silence, Robert continued. “And - and, I adore the way you think, how you laugh and how you see the world, how - how you understand people, people who’ve never had someone take the time to ever fucking do that. How you care. So - so… stay. Stay by my side.”

In the kiss, you two had found yourselves perched on his bed, and he looked at you, lips bitten between his teeth nervously. “Please,” he murmured, hand coming up to your cheek and meekly tracing shapes on your skin.

“…I can’t do this. Not with you. Robert, you - you don’t fuck a woman you say you love then pretend you didn’t.” You replied, shying away from his touch like he’d burnt you. 

“I - I didn’t want to push that on you, not when - when we were…” he trailed off, hands leaving you and instead scrubbing his grimacing face. 

“What, when I was your personal prostitute?”

“Don’t say it like that,” he said weakly, but didn’t protest. “I just… I didn’t want to say anything because I didn’t want you to think it was just another part of the job.”

“Is it not?” You questioned, watching his expression change and flit through several emotions. “You’re telling me you love me, and you’re asking me to keep being your secretary. Robert, is this not just part of my job?”

“It doesn’t have to be,” he pleaded. “It - you, can be more than that. You are the woman I worship and adore and - and will listen to, no matter what. So don’t leave.”

The words “me behind” did not come out of his mouth, but you felt it, like he etched it on your heart. Your eyes searched his own for even a semblance of fallacy — but it was so terribly real, truthful, that you felt a lump in the back of your throat form. 

You pressed your forehead to his own, trying to digest this information: the reveal of his feelings… and the remembrance of your own. 

His idealistic talk, his professions of love, his raw, long-suffering pleading made you remember the deep seated, stirring warmth in your heart that you’d beat to death all those years ago. 

You remembered the fondness you’d felt for a melancholy man back in Sydney, the man with the demure demeanor, the charming words; the man who you spent a month with, the man who took you on sweet dates, who wormed his way into your life like he belonged there; the man who fucked you slowly and graciously and cherishingly; the man who, at the end, had to go back to America, to the life he never talked about; the man who you wanted to explore a forever relationship with, but had offered you a job instead. 

“You love me?” you asked, vulnerability apparent in your tone. 

“More than anything in the entire world.”

“Then kiss me.” 

And Robert did, his hands sliding down your back to your waist, bringing you closed to him. This kiss was passionate, but patient and sheepish like you’d never kissed one another before. It was a sweet dance, all tongue and no teeth; curling around each other tenderly, desperately, like there was never going to be enough time in the world to express how you felt about each other, because you felt so infinitely. 

Your fingers carded through his hair, tugging lightly on his feather-soft locks, and his movements grew eager, gripping your thighs and pulling you onto his lap. “I’ve never wanted anything so badly as I did you,” he mumbled against your neck, pressing hungry kisses on the delicate skin. 

“I dreamed of this, in Sydney,” you told him, slipping off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his shirt and dress pants, “I dreamed of forever together.”

He shrugged off the many articles of clothing, then began unzipping the back of your dress without looking, “I dream of us and forever without an end: you are my ever-present thought.” 

You paused your movements, looking at him squarely - though not without allowing your dress to fall off your shoulders - and pulling him into another kiss. “How could I ever have been content with just fucking you,” you murmured, more to yourself than him, “when these are the things you say to me?”

Finally, the two of you were reverently tossing and turning on the bed, completely naked and completely feverish, not just in lust, but in dizzying adoration and love for the other. Then, he was on top of you, holding himself up by the arms. His leg slotted between your thighs, your soaking wetness practically dripping onto him, and he could’ve fallen apart right then and there if not for your arm digging into his left bicep kept him grounded in reality.

His hard cock rested against your thigh, and after a moment longer of watching eachother intently, memorizing each and every feature you both had, he spread your legs wide and pressed his fat tip plush against your clit, introducing himself slowly. 

“Is this okay?” Robert asked, biting his lip and reveling in how good you took him, even if it was just the head. 

You looked at him blearily, barely registering his question, mind already losing itself to the pleasure he was inflicting on your cunt; how, the slower he was with you, the easier it was to completely succumb. 

“Yes, fuck,” you ground out, squeezing your eyes shut and sucking him in, his groans growing louder as he pushed the rest of his length in. 

“Oh my god, oh my god,” you blurted simultaneously to his various noises of pleasure, your fingernails digging deep crescent moon shapes into his back. 

“Best cunt I ever fucking had,” he grunted, hands gripping the sheets beside your head for dear life. He stilled for a few moments, letting you get used to his whole length in you — yes, when he’d fucked you all those times before, he was so desperate to come he hadn’t bottomed out his entire length in you, which… had already filled you to the brim. 

“M’gonna,” he shuddered, feeling your walls bear down on him suddenly, “gonna move now.” 

You nodded breathlessly, arching into his touch as he set a steady pace. He would drive into you slowly, teasingly, almost torturously, before suddenly pulling out, then thrusting into you regularly for a few moments, and finally starting all over again. It would’ve made you mad, if not for how sweetly he was handling you: his hand stroking your forehead shyly, gaze flitting over you like you were the only thing left in the entire world. 

Robert leaned down to your bare tits, brushing his wet tongue over your nipples, which had grown sensitive and erect. At his touch, you let out a small squeak, “Oh, Robert,” you keened, rutting your hips up into his own on instinct.

You could feel him smile against your skin, and then, he slipped one of your nipples into his warm mouth, suckling loudly and making you tremble. His tongue devouring your tits, his hips snapping into you, his hands caressing you gently; fuck, you realized, it was all too much, but still just enough. 

The way Robert fucked you was absolute perfection, the way he ravished and pleasured your body was heavenly; divine. Sweet moans left your mouth as Robert’s pace grew more frenzied, your sticky cunt making a sick squelching noise whenever he pulled out. You were like a fucking suction; even your pussy knew how delicious Robert’s veiny cock was, and held onto him desperately. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Robert sighed, pressing his face into the nook of your neck, inhaling your scent. “Your are the only one for me— fuck— its you, and only you.”

Though your thoughts were growing foggier, only focussing on feeling pleasure, you still had it in you to beam at his words, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him into a close embrace.

“Faster, please, god, I adore you,” you said after letting go, a string of words barely coherent. Still, you thought that even if you’d not said anything at all, Robert would have understood, for he began sliding his cock in and out of you rapidly. His hands found themselves at your hips, and he began pushing you up into him as he slammed down into your cunt. 

His thrusts drew breathy moans from your lips, and you could tell how swiftly it affected him, knowing his cock made you shudder and whine like that, writhing beneath him, because he commanded gently for you to: “Look at me,” he said, and you obliged, taking in those sweet, wet blue eyes, lashes fluttering as he blinked. He wanted to look at you, and he wanted you to look at him. 

“I’m looking,” you responded, barely able to speak. 

“Good,” he said breathily, “I wanna know what you look like when you come.” Then, his cock began pounding into you, not cautiously and delicately, like he had been earlier, but insatiably, unable to think of much else but making the woman he loves orgasm. You could count on one hand how many times Robert made you come, but it seemed that’d be the only thing he’d be thinking about for the foreseeable future: devoting his time to making the odds even. 

His words made your insides twist, the knot in your abdomen growing larger; it turned you on much more than you thought it would, for the notion of him coming in you because he wanted to, because he wanted to fill you with his seed and mark you as his, not just because he wanted to release and didn’t have time to clean it up elsewhere. Suddenly, you found yourself knowing the difference between sex with kissing, and just sex.

You hadn’t realized how close you were, steadily building toward an orgasm when your brain has turned off thinking and let you melt completely into the ecstacy, and only really comprehended it when Robert mumbled, “Jesus, you’re so wet, taking me so well,” and his praise sent you off the deep end.

Honestly, you couldn’t describe how it felt. You could, however, do so in comparison to your previous orgasms with Robert. Usually, it would feel good, but like it ended too fast. You’d conveniently orgasm when Robert came in you, and he’d drive out his high in your cunt, then pull out immediately. If you’d had your way, you’d keep him thrusting until you couldn’t take it anymore, wanting to drag out your blissful orgasm as long as possible.

That’s what happened here. The heat that encompassed your body was unfamiliar, but damn well fucking delectable, making your body buck up uncontrollably into his cock. You were high on the pleasure, drunk on his length, and he knew this, still gliding in and out of you. Your climax was like entering a deep pool: it took you over completely, and was a little hard to come out of. 

“S’good,” Robert mumbled, not unlike he did earlier that day, but you knew it was different. “Your face look s’fucking gorgeous,” he commented, mind growing fuzzy as he saw your expression change throughout your high. 

Your hands found themselves back in his hair, and you tugged him slightly so you could whisper in his ear. “Thank you, Robert,” you spoke warmly, though still panting, “for loving me. For letting me love you.”

You swore you saw light tears well in his eyes, but you couldn’t be sure, because he cocked his head back, neck clenching and his mouth falling open as he released his cream deep into your cunt, flush against your cervix. He let out a low moan as he climaxed, thrusts still coming but considerably slower. It felt like he’d been coming forever when his arms gave out and he finally went limp, falling down beside you. 

“You don’t have to thank me,” is what he said first, peering up at you and brushing an eyelash off your cheek. “I’d have loved you no matter what you did.”

Now you felt the waterworks coming. How was it, that through such a strained relationship and broken examples of intimacy, did Robert know how to be so sweet? Or was that just him, just how his thoughts came to him; was it just his instinct and nature that made him so darling?

Weakly, you slip your arms under his, combining the two of you in a sweaty embrace. The room smelt like come and sex, the lights impossibly bright and beaming down on the two of you uncomfortably, but you could deal with it— and everything, so long as you were with Robert. 

“If only I knew sooner how cheesy you were, Mr. Fischer.”

“Well, you’ll have the rest of your life to keep finding out… Mrs. Fischer.”

[eddiesghxst]

❆ Let It Snow - a christmas smutty special ❆

happy holidays lovelys!!! ilysm and i hope you all have a beautiful rest of your year, here is a cute n quick little Christmas smutty blurb as my gift to u <3

also, this is not proofread i apologize for any mistakes <3

18+ — MINORS DNI

pairing: roomate!eddie munson x reader

summary: your flight home gets canceled on christmas eve and Eddie just wants to cheer you up

contains: friends to lovers trope, reader loves christmas (she's so me), oral (f receiving), p in v (unprotected - be smart pls), creampie, lots of Christmas cheer, and eddie being the cutest most kindest boy there ever was <3

word count: 3.6k

-masterlist-

Christmas is ruined.

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’ve been rotting away in your room all day— it’s now almost six in the afternoon— and Christmas is ruined.

In the corner of your room, your bags lay in a pile, packed and ready to go for the flight home you were supposed to be on just less than an hour ago. Your mother was devastated when you called her to break the news that you wouldn’t be home in time for Christmas, and although she tried her hardest to mask it over the phone, acting was never really her niche.

You’d already cried once this morning, a pathetic sob that inevitably escaped the second you opened your blinds and saw the blinding-white thick blanket of snow covering Hawkins. It’s not common, heavy winter snows in Indiana, so when the news mentioned that there would be a chance of snow, you didn’t think much of it.

Wrong choice.

You should’ve changed your ticket immediately and got on the next plane to Oregon, where your family would be with warm laughter and endless amounts of food, not to mention the traditional tree lighting you’d miss out on. But now, you’re stuck in Hawkins, chest hollow and cold from the undeniable fact that you will miss Christmas with your family this year.

Suddenly, you hear a raspy curse from the other side of your wall, followed by haste movements and the rustling of sheets and clothes. Eddie’s finally up from his nap. You can’t wait to tell him how stupid you’d been to book a flight so late on Christmas Eve.

Before you can even think of getting up and going to Eddie’s room, the man bursts through your door with a frazzled look as his gaze darts around the room, “Why didn’t you wake me? You’re gonna be late for your flight!” He panics. It’s sweet, really. The way your roommate paces over to your bags and looks at you with a ‘Why aren’t these in the car yet?’ look. It almost makes you hopeful that somehow, now that Eddie’s bright and sunny self is awake, he can find a way to get you home just in time for Christmas.

Obviously, it's not happening, considering Eddie isn’t a god, but one can dream.

You groan, tossing over in your bed to burrow your face deep into your sheets as you mumble into the soft cotton, “I’m not going anymore.” You grumble.

You can hear Eddie’s frown when he responds, “What? What do you mean you’re not going?”

You huff, heart aching as you reply, “Have you looked outside by any chance?”

You don’t turn to watch, but you can hear the shuffling sound of Eddie walking over to your window, shucking the blinds open, and peering out into the parking lot of your apartment that’s covered in that godawful snow. Eddie lets out a sound, something between surprise and sympathy, and it only makes the frown on your face deepen.

“Well… shit,” Eddie says.

You turn over and sit up, huffing as you shove your sheets out of your way, “Yeah. Have fun trying to figure out a way to get me across the country with that type of weather.” You grunt, kicking your legs over the side of your bed to stand and shuffle over to the packed suitcases. You figure you may as well unpack since you’re not going anywhere anytime soon.

“So when are the airports gonna clear, did they say?” Eddie asks.

You huff as you unfold jeans and tops, mind reeling with scenarios of what you should’ve done to prevent this. “Not until tomorrow afternoon. Christmas will be done by then, and most of my family will be back in their respective homes, so… looks like you’re stuck with me, Munson.”

Which, sure Eddie practically threw a fit when you told him you’d be out of town for the holidays, but you still feel as if you’re intruding. Eddie was supposed to have Wayne come over tomorrow, but you’re going to be here probably sulking, and it’ll be awkward and pitiful, and it’s just not at all what you’d wanted your or Eddie’s Christmas to be like! 

“...Okay, well,” Before you can fully register what’s happening, Eddie is closing your suitcase and grabbing your hands, dragging you up to your feet and ignoring your confusion as he speaks, “You can’t spend Christmas like this, sweetheart. You’ll end up like the Grinch. Do you wanna be the Grinch? Don’t tell me you wanna be the Grinch.” Eddie rambles as he drags you out of your room.

You try to fight a smile at Eddie’s rapid fire of words, but you fail as you shake your head, “No, I don’t want to be the Grinch, asshole.” You grumble as he drops your hand.

Eddie drops your hand and claps loudly, a bright grin spreading over his lips when he turns to you, “Wonderful! Then we have to get in the Christmas spirit.”

Eddie leaves you confused in the small hallway of your shared apartment, watching as he chaoticly prances over to the kitchen. He slows down and turns back to you once he sees you’re not following him, a confused expression painting over his face. “Well? Are you gonna leave me to bake alone, or are you gonna join?”

And well, you’ve never seen Eddie even pick up a baking pan, so it’s safe to say this will be interesting.

Eddie is absolutely terrible with ingredients. 

You and Eddie both decided to bake cookies, but instead of regular chocolate chips, Eddie pitched in the idea of using red and green M&Ms for the holiday effect, which you thought was pretty clever. The only problem is Eddie can’t measure for shit.

The recipe calls for two tablespoons of cornstarch, Eddie two and a half— damn near three. The next step says to mix in a third of a cup of cooking oil, but Eddie puts in much too little. It’s odd, considering his past with drug dealing, but you don’t mention it and instead opt to discreetly correct his mistakes whenever he turns his back to grab something else.

You both end up covered in flour because the pesky powder honestly just doesn't under the concept of gravity, and you laugh when you see some coating Eddie’s eyelashes. “What’s so funny, chef?” He asks.

You smile, “Nothing, you’ve just got… you got some on your eyes.” You reach up with a gentle hand, the sleeves of your sweater long enough to pull over your thumb so you can carefully dust off the white powder.

Eddie’s eyes are so bright and attentive this close, watching your every move with a type of sincerity you’ve only ever seen on screens from Grammy-nominated films and such. It makes your chest warm, and your knees quiver as his lips split into a smile, “Thank you, princess.” He softly says. You nod, and you swear Eddie’s eyes fucking twinkle.

You clear your throat, blinking away and stepping back to clear whatever trance from your mind, “Well,” You heavily sigh, “The cookies are in the oven for the next hour, so… I think I’m gonna go read.”

“Actually,” Eddie pipes up, softly reaching out and letting his fingers brush against yours, “I was thinking we could watch a Christmas movie. Unless if you’re sick of me, I totally get it; I’ll call you when the cookies are ready.”

Which couldn’t be further from the truth. You didn’t want to read. Hell, you don’t even have a new book to read; you’ve gone through your entire reading list.

“Oh! Well, what movie did you have in mind?”

“Home Alone. Obviously.”

You roll your eyes, “You’re a Christmas amateur, Eddie, did you know that?”

Eddie waves a dismissive hand as you begin to smile, reaching out to spin you around and shove you toward your room, “Just go get in some comfy clothes.”

You snort as you follow his instructions, shuffling over to your room to change out of your flour-coated clothing. It takes you some time to dig through your suitcase, but you eventually find the cute pajama set you bought for the holidays and slip it on, eager to return to the living room and join Eddie.

When you step into the living room, you don’t expect to see furniture pushed out of the way and Eddie standing in the middle as he pushes his queen-sized mattress down to lie right in the middle of the room—your heart races when you realize what Eddie’s done.

“Eddie, what are you doing?” You softly ask.

Eddie looks up at you, heavily breathing as he places his hands on his hips, “It’s Christmas Eve!” He beams. You tilt your head with a scolding expression, “I remember you saying you did this with your family, so I figured we gotta keep the tradition going.” He shrugs.

And god, Eddie’s so lovely. Too nice for his own good, really. Your entire body warms at the gesture, watching as he bustles around the apartment, grabbing blankets and pillows to make a comfy nest-like bed.

Seeing Eddie prepare the room wasn’t confusing because you kind of figured that’s what he was doing when you initially saw it, but you became concerned when you saw him drag a tall fake plant across the room.

Eddie steps back and gazes at the fake plant, face twisted in concentration, “Where should it go? The corner, right?” He turns to you. Your brows scrunch in confusion, “Uh… you’re losing me.”

Eddie blinks at you as if you’ve just asked him if the sky is blue, “The Christmas tree, doll. Where should it go?”

You raise an eyebrow, “That’s not a Christmas tree, Eddie, that’s a fake Cat Palm.” Eddie makes a face as if you’ve insulted him, “Says who?”

“Says anyone with general knowledge of the world.” “Why can’t this tree be a Christmas tree? As far as I know, they both have the same qualities that allow them to classify as a tree.” And you’re not going to argue with Eddie on that because he’s being sweet, and you’re interested to see what wacky plan he’s concocted in that brain of his.

So, for the next hour or so, you and Eddie sit on his comfy bed in the living room and use copy paper to cut out shitty snowflakes to put on the ‘Christmas tree’ as you watch Home Alone.

It’s undeniably the most fun you’ve had in a while, and you and Eddie turn your craft into a competition to see who can make the best snowflake, but you keep snipping the wrong spots to create an absolute disgrace of a snowflake. Eddie thinks they’re ‘fucking insane. In a good way!’ though, so you can’t complain.

“These are fucking awful.”

Home Alone 2 is playing, the Christmas tree is fully decorated, and you and Eddie have settled in his bed with a plate full of cookies. It’s a cozy little setup you’ve got, and your cheeks are warm from laughter, and you’ve never felt this content with anyone besides family. And to make matters even better, the cookies taste like absolute shit.

You look at Eddie, gazing at his horrified expression momentarily before bursting into a snort. Eddie looks at you, terror written across his face as you fold in laughter. 

“These are seriously the worst cookies I’ve ever tasted.” He reiterates. 

You manage to calm your laughter down just enough to respond, “They’re not that bad.” 

You and Eddie share a look before you burst into laughter again, “Yeah, they’re pretty bad.” You admit. Eddie joins you in laughter, shaking his head as he offers you the plate of cookies so you can put your half-bitten cookie away. “Remind me to never enter a bake-off,” Eddie grumbles as he reaches over to set the cookies on the coffee table pushed off to the side.

You and Eddie settle into his cozy bed then, content on holiday cheer and the comforting presence of one another. You’re pressed close to each other so you can share the bowl of popcorn you’d made, and you try to ignore how the close proximity makes your insides squeal. You glance at Eddie as you roll an unpopped kernel between your fingers.

“Thank you.”

Eddie turns to you, eyebrows raised in alert. You gesture to the atmosphere of your apartment, “For this, I mean. You didn’t have to do any of this.” 

Eddie makes a face and waves you off, “It’s nothing, princess. Couldn’t have you sad on your favorite holiday of the year.”

Your cheeks warm as you gaze at Eddie, chest feeling so much appreciation for his efforts today. Eddie didn’t have to do any of this. He could’ve just said sorry for your shit luck and called it a day, but he took it upon himself to make your ruined holiday into, arguably, one of the best Christmas you’ve had in a while.

“I mean, come on, you heard how badly I was begging you to stay home anyway. Some might even say I got Mother Nature to ring in a favor.” He jokes as he gently nudges his shoulder against yours. You roll your eyes, briefly returning to the movie as you respond, “You’re dramatic, Eddie. I was gonna be gone for two days.” You point out.

“Two days too long!” He stresses, “What was I supposed to do while you were gone?”

You snort, tossing popcorn in your mouth before speaking, “You were gonna be with Wayne anyway; you’d hardly even think about me.” You wave.

Eddie makes a displeased noise, poking at the popcorn in the bowl, “That’s not true.” He softly responds. You glance at Eddie, heart racing when he locks eyes with you. “Wayne isn’t half as pretty as you, so.” He jokes, a small smile spreading across his lips.

You shyly smile, “You think I’m pretty?” You tease.

Eddie smiles with his eyes, “I think you’re gorgeous, actually.”

And god, you think you imagine it when Eddie’s gaze falls to your lips, but then he’s reaching out to gently drag his thumb across your bottom lip. You lean into him on instinct, body aching for his touch, lips crying out to feel his lips on yours, and thankfully, Eddie doesn’t make you wait long before leaning forward.

Eddie’s lips are soft and perfect for kissing. Plump and addicting to the touch as he moves in tandem with you, hands gently caressing your face as you press into each other. You can’t contain the whine bubbling in your throat, and you almost feel embarrassed, but Eddie responds with a moan, hands moving south to softly grab your waist and pull you closer.

You almost can’t believe this is happening— you making out with your roommate on Christmas Eve— but you figure it was about time that you two shattered the thick wall of tension and desire that’d been building between you both. Stolen glances and lingering touches in the kitchen, too-close dancing at parties, and almost kisses during goodbyes have all led to this very moment as Eddie shifts to lay you back into the mountain of pillows.

You shakily breathe against Eddie’s lips when his fingers dust across your stomach, softly pressing into your warm skin to pull a squeal from your lips. You can feel the spread of his smile against the corner of our mouth, and you squirm as he peppers a few kisses there, “Gonna let me taste you, princess?” He asks, fingers caressing the skin just above the waistband of your festive shorts. You swallow heavily and nod, eyes dancing with his when he leans back just enough to see your face. “Words?”

“Yeah. Yes, please.”

Your voice hardly even sounds like your own. Needy and higher pitched and almost humiliating, but Eddie’s smattering kisses down your chin and neck, hands riding your shirt up your stomach so he can kiss the warm skin there. You softly exhale, reaching up to sink your fingers through his hair and gently tug. He groans against you, softly nipping the fat of your hip as his fingers curl over the band of your shorts. He drags the pants down your legs, sitting up to take them off and toss them to the side. He parts your thighs, a smug grin spreading across his lips as he gazes down at you, your socked feet digging into the sheets as he runs his ringed hands up your legs. “Stop staring.” You grumble.

Eddie chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your stomach and then the band of your panties, “Candy canes, huh?” He peers up at you as he plays with the tiny bow on your pelvis. Your face warms, center throbbing as you squirm beneath him. “Hey,” You frown, “It was a matching set and I thought they were cute.” You explain, nudging him with your foot. Which is true, the set came with a bra, panties, and socks, and it was on sale, so of course you bought it.

Eddie laughs as he settles on his stomach, “Oh, you’re fuckin’ precious,” He beams to himself. Your chest warms, and he leans forward to kiss just over your covered clit, “I love them, sweetheart.” Another kiss pressed to your hip this time. “I love them a lot, actually.” A kiss to the other hip, and you squirm. His lashes flutter when he peers up at you, fingers squeezing your hips as he speaks, “Unfortunately… they’re kind of in the way.”

You playfully roll your eyes, losing the fight to your smile as you respond, “Just take them off, Eddie.”

Eddie’s eyes light up, hands moving quicker than you’ve ever seen to get rid of the candy cane printed barrier, happily settling back on his stomach and curling his hands around your thighs to pull you closer. He doesn’t give you any warning when he dives in, licking a thick and wet line from your entrance to your clit. He circles the tip of his tongue over your clit, grinning when you moan and twitch from the sensation. He hums as he suckles your clit into his mouth, licking and sucking as if his life depends on it, fingers squeezing at your thighs and hips. You’re drowning in pleasure, but you think you can hear the muffled sound of Eddie mumbling, ‘Fuck, you taste so good’ against you, and it makes your head spin.

You’re a goner when he sinks two fingers into you, expertly curling up against that toe-curling spot to have you crying out his name and arching up into him. He hums against you, nodding his head in encouragement as you cum on his tongue.

You’re blinking through a pleasure-filled haze when Eddie kisses up your body, sticky lips smearing wet pecks across your stomach as he pushes your shirt further up.

You help each other undress the rest of the way, your limbs shaky and clumsy from your orgasm, and Eddie chuckles but kisses you when you glare at him. Your hand wraps around his cock, but Eddie shakes his head, grasping your wrist as he pushes you back into his bed, “I can’t wait. Next time, yeah? Need you now.”

You wouldn’t dream of saying no.

The stretch of Eddie is so much yet so good. It burns, and it takes your breath away, but it sends chills up your back with the heavenly sensation as he presses into you, balls pressing against your ass as he leans over you and moans against your lips. “F–fuck. Jesus, you feel so fucking good.” 

You mewl, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pressing your body into him. “Please, Eddie. Please fuck me, please.”

“Yeah,” He gently coos as he pulls out. He pushes back in, watching as your eyes flutter shut and your lips part in ecstasy, and he hums, “There we go. Taking me so well, baby. Gonna give it all to you— h-holy shit.”

He builds his pace slowly but surely, and you’re so embarrassingly close by the time he’s steadily pumping into you, the loud sound of your sex echoing between your bodies in tandem with your moans. 

You moan, nails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as you breathe him in, digging your face into his neck and finding solace in the curtain of his curly strands as he holds you close. Eddie groans when you throb around his aching cock, and he nods, “Give it to me. Cum on my cock, baby. Let me feel it.” He gently encourages you, a warm hand pressing into your back as he kisses your neck. You don’t know if you could get any closer, your chests pressed together, skin sticky with sweat as you grind against one another.

You tip over the edge quicker than you’d want to because you want this to last forever, but Eddie coos and holds you through it all, and you feel like you’re floating through clouds of stardust with Eddie kissing you and thrusting into you.

You’re out of it when Eddie cums. So far gone and high on pleasure that all you can do is moan and nuzzle into his neck to kiss and lick and bite as he empties himself into your pulsing cunt.

You’re both breathing heavily, Eddie collapsing against you but holding himself up just enough so he doesn’t crush you. You’re both silent as you catch your breath, softly running your fingers through Eddie’s hair as the ending credits to Home Alone 2 roll. Against the skin of your neck, you feel Eddie’s lips spread into a sleepy smile, and you can’t help but smile as well as you speak, “What?” You softly ask.

Eddie breathes, shifting so he can nuzzle his face further into your neck, breathing in the scent of you and sex.

“Nothing, just… I’m so fucking glad it snowed.”