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#and might as well keep working out this laptop's screen
ueberdemnebelmeer · 1 year
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THE UNTAMED / 陈情令 episode 25
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daisynik7 · 2 months
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cw: established relationship, explicit sexual content, smut - cunnilingus
Author's Note: Barely proofread, completely horny. Enjoy. Divider credit to @/cafekitsune.
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When Nanami comes out of the bedroom for breakfast, he notices you’re already set up at your work desk, expression serious as you face the monitor. 
“You have a meeting right now?” he asks, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. 
You relax a bit from his loving smooch. “Yeah. I don’t even need to be in this. My boss just said to hop on and listen in. Said it’s a learning opportunity.” You make air quotations with your fingers at those last two words, rolling your eyes. 
He hums, massaging your shoulders, which are stiff and tense with stress. “I’m sorry.” His thumbs work out a knot; he always knows how to put you at ease at times like this. 
You lean back, tipping your chin up to catch his gaze, smiling. “Thank you, honey. I’m just…annoyed.” Glancing back at the screen, you sit up straight, muttering, “Oh no, it’s starting.” With a click of your mouse, you’re in. A few of the attendees are already chatting, so you keep yourself on mute, not bothering to greet them. 
Instead of heading into the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee, Nanami remains behind you, bowing down to whisper, “Do you want a distraction?” His mouth grazes your ear, his hands gliding up and down your arms. 
Although you’re on mute, you mouth a silent, “What?” to him.
His voice gets lower, sultry. “I’m hungry. And I’m craving my favorite treat right now.” He nuzzles his nose to yours, flashing that lazy smile of his you love so much. “I’ll be quick.” Too much. 
“Kento, are you serious?” The rational part of you knows this is crazy, especially while you’re actively attending a meeting. However, the horny part of you, which seems to supersede everything else, wants your husband’s distraction so badly. The temptation to do something you shouldn’t be doing is too alluring to resist. And besides, you’re virtually non-existent in the conversation happening in front of you. Might as well do something else productive.
He nods, pressing his lips to yours in a soft kiss, just enough to tease a moan out of you. “Baby,” you whine. “We shouldn’t.”
And the two of you know what that really means.
Soon, he’s under the desk, sliding your pajamas bottoms off one leg at a time while you pretend to pay attention to whatever nonsense your coworkers are discussing. Your panties are already wet and Nanami takes his time peeling them off you, biting his lip at the way it glistens with your arousal. 
He wasn’t lying when he said he was hungry. In fact, he’s starving. He proves that with how voraciously he eats you out, your legs open wide for him to spread his tongue all over you. His grip is firm on your knees, keeping you split apart, licking and sucking on your clit, coaxing every drop of cum out of you. You can go the entire meeting with his face buried in your wet cunt, his drool mixing in with your slick. 
Suddenly, and to your absolute horror, your name gets called by your manager. “Any questions?”
You try to shove Nanami away, but he’s relentless, latching onto you tighter, sucking on your clit harder, louder. You squeeze his cheeks tightly with your thighs, practically smothering him, but it doesn’t do anything except make him hum, the vibrations only adding to the divine sensation. 
Before this long pause gets any more awkward, you swallow all the saliva pooling in your mouth and unmute yourself. “I’m good, thanks!” you blurt out, muting yourself once more as you let out a drawn-out moan, coming for the fifth time on your husband’s tongue.
The meeting is dismissed shortly after. You shut your laptop closed, scolding your husband, who’s now kissing the plush of your thighs, chin and nose shiny with your cum, a wickedly charming smile on his lips. “Thought you said you wouldn’t have to say anything,” he teases, trying to feign innocence. 
You run your fingers through his hair, tugging on the strands gently. “Thought you said you’d make it quick.”
He comes up from beneath the table, meeting your face with his. “You know nothing is ever quick with me, sweetheart.” Then, he kisses you, pulling you close to him, cock stiff against you, leading you into the bedroom.  
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justatypicaltrash · 4 months
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A scrap from your book
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Bakugo x reader, aged up, college! au, quirks don't matter, no warnings, just heartwarming
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Roommate Bakugo who is forced to share a room with you for about three months due to unexpected construction works in the college apartment he occupied. The whole Bakusquad was moved to random rooms. To make it worse they were all shared ones. You agreed to take in a male occupant.
Roommate Bakugo who tries to spend as much time outside of the cramped college room as possible. He feels like he's kinda invading your privacy as well as just finding the whole situation uneasy.
Roommate Bakugo who has to complete a bunch of assignments but the library is packed in the late afternoon hours, the air thick with gossip, stress, sweat and annoyance. Bakugo finally wandered off to the dorm room to find some peace for his work.
Roommate Bakugo who spotts you always turn off your lamp and tune down the brightness on your laptop when he tells you he's going to sleep.
"You don't have to do that." He grunts, already wrapped up in heavy covers.
"I don't mind, you do the same." Because he does.
Roommate Bakugo who walks on you watching a film he loves. At first he just circles the small room mindlessly, more interested in the unwrapping dialogue between his two favourite characters than the laundry he's picking up.
"You wanna watch?" You ask, pausing the movie.
"No. I was going to do my laundry."
"I can wait, I can buy some snacks in the meantime, I was looking for an excuse to do it anyway."
So the two of you ended up finishing the film together, sitting on your bed.
Roommate Bakugo who talks to you more, geting used to the situation faster than he thought he would. You both sit by your desks working on the boring college stuff. He spotted you were trying hard, not slacking around and keeping most of your deadlines. Even if he didn't want to admitt it, he was impressed. Not that he didn't do the same, it's just rare to find a person who actually cares.
Roommate Bakugo who didn't know how to phrase a sentence. He was working on a piece of paper for the last two hours after an intense day of workout and his brain refused to cooperate anymore.
"Can I ask you for a favour?" Your face appeared from behind your laptop screen.
"Depends on what is it."
"I finished a short essay and I wanted to ask if you could read it and tell me if it makes sense."
Might as well take a break to refresh his mind. Bakugo read through the text and came to the conclusion that you were a good writer. A very good writer in fact.
"How would you say that in other words?" He asked after you were happy with your work, your laptop tossed aside as you lay on your bed scrolling through your phone.
You skipped to him, read through the sentence and gave him a paraphrase, one that he wouldn't think of himself.
"Thanks."
Roommate Bakugo who was eying you book collection for some time. You had a bunch. When he asked the two of you started talking and in went on and on and on. Finally, you stood up on your bed, the sheets dipping in where you stretched out to reach the highest shelve. Picking out a book you handed it to him.
"My favourite."
So he started to read it.
Roommate Bakugo who got a text from you that you wouldn't be back in the dorms for the night. After a shower he laid down in his bed, shirtless, with your book in hand. It was definitely worth it and he was way past the half already. Suddednly the doors opened only to reveal you, eying him up and down.
"The fuck you doing here?" Suddenly Bakugo felt a tad bit embarassed about his bare chest and lose sweatpants.
"My friend cancelled, sorry, you have someone over?" A small sly grin appeared on yoru lips.
"Jeez no, I'm just half naked."
"I don't mind." You shrugged, throwing your bag on the bed.
And what was that supposed to mean?
Nevermind. Bakugo wanted to get back to the story when he spotted something horrific. His hand gripped a nice chunk of the page, torn out of the book. He must have done it when you startled him with the grand entrance. It was readable as he only torn the cream white but it still looked nasty.
"Shit, I'm sorry." He didn't even look at you, opting on eying the damage, embarassement creaping up his cheeks for destroying someone's else belonging. One of yoru favourite belongings.
You came over, looked at the book and started to laugh.
"What's so fucking funny?" From embarassed Bakugo quickly merged into defensive.
"You look as if you killed my grandma. It's just a book." You saw that it didn't make him feel better, in fact the frown in his brows deepened. "I like my books being used. Lets treat it as a memory of you reading it. Give me the torn piece, please." Your hand reached out and he put the scrap into your open palm.
You skribbled something down on it using a pen fished out of your drawer. When you gave it back to him, the paper read 'Don't stress so much, dummy.'
"You can keep it." A smile brightened your face as you turned around to do other things.
Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that he kept that scrap in the back of his phonecase at all times.
Roommate Bakugo who would never admitt to anyone that it took you roughly two months to steal his rock-like heart away.
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starrystevie · 6 months
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18+ | modern office steddie au | cw: public sex, undernegotiated kinks, unsafe sex | crossposted to ao3 here
eddie doesn't do it often. okay, maybe that's a stretch. frequently might be a better word for it, more accurate. but he wouldn't say he does it everyday or anything. it's just a little break from the day, an escape from the monotony of corporate america.
he's only been in this new tech support job for a few months but he's already comfortable enough that working on his next novel at his desk doesn't give him anxiety anymore. he isn't afraid someone is looking over his shoulder all the time like he did when he first started with the company.
the thing is, eddie's good at tech. he's good at finding the problems, finding even better solutions. half the time all he's doing is updating and restarting people's equipment that hasn't been refreshed in years. so he finds himself with enough free time at his desk to work on the second installment of his fantasy novel when the problems seem to be at a low.
as he waits for his laptop to boot up, eddie cracks his knuckles and grabs his phone to send a text to his editor that may or may not also happen to be his best friend so he could cut back on over exuberant editing fees. he doesn't read the message over, just fires out a text to nancy quickly before pocketing his phone.
he only realizes the typo once he gets a laughing emoji in return and cackles at what he actually sent.
"getting ready to write some smut on the cock!!!!!"
it doesn't take long to send a winky face before correcting himself to say " on the clock obviously", before pocketing his phone and opening the document where his novel is. just as eddie is about to start typing, a voice behind him makes him jump out of his skin.
"what was so funny?" steve asks, arm propped on the top of his flimsy cubicle wall, legs crossed over one another, smirk on his face.
eddie forces himself not to swoon. he takes in the way his white button up stretches across his chest, dress pants oh so snug over his thighs, hair pushed back in the way that only steve harrington could pull off. he may have only been at the office for a few months, but ever since he first saw him, steve very quickly became the only thing eddie could think about.
"i'm sure you wouldn't find it funny," he starts, tilting his laptop screen halfway shut so steve can't catch him doing his other job, his favorite job, while at work.
steve smirks again, his cheek lifting enough to crinkle his eye. "try me, munson."
with a dramatic push, eddie rolls in his wheely chair and stands up so he can keep his voice low. "i sent my editor a dirty text on accident."
if steve's surprised, he doesn't show it.
"editor, hmm? for what?" his voice is as low as eddie's and it makes the cubicle feel even smaller than it is. like everything in the world has zeroed in on their whispers to each other.
"i might be writing a book. well, technically i've already written a book. this is just the sequel."
steve's eyes flick from eddie to his laptop and then back once more. "is it anything i'd know?"
he cackles again, picturing steve reading his smutty fantasy novel, eyebrows furrowed as he tries to make any sense out of the haphazard world map eddie drew for the back page. but then again, he could easily picture steve in the world he made. he'd be a prince- no, scratch that, an elven prince- just like the one he's writing about in this one.
"i do read, you know. i'm not entirely up to date with everything but i do like books." steve says it like he's almost hurt and it makes eddie look back up at him, mellowing out his wide grin into a softer smile.
"oh, i wasn't doubting that. i just doubt you read elf porn in your free time."
whatever hurt was lacing through steve's face is gone, replaced with wide eyes and eyebrows to his hairline and a bright smile pulling at his cheeks.
"yeah," he says a little breathless, "yeah, definitely not the first thing i'd reach for."
eddie gives him a told-you-so head nod and brings a hand up to run through his hair, tracking steve's eyes as he follows the motion for a moment. having his eyes on him rushes through eddie like a wave crashing and he's halfway tempted to do it again if he didn't think it would look forced.
"well you probably don't know mine then."
as he turns to go back to his chair, he hears steve cough to get his attention back, arms crossed over his chest to make his shirt pull taut over his beautiful, gorgeous, annoyingly perfect biceps. "so what was the dirty text?"
"well, it was actually a typo," eddie starts, cocking his head to the side with a smirk as he pulls out his phone, "so an unintentional dirty text. but still funny, none the less. and i don't think i can say it out loud without getting hr called on my ass so-"
he holds up his phone so steve can see the brief conversation between him and nancy, watches his eyebrows shoot back up to his hairline, watches as his mouth drops open for a millisecond before giving eddie another goddamn smirk. steve leans back, drops his arms to put a hand on his hip, and looks eddie less than subtly up and down.
"so... do you want to?"
eddie can feel the moment his heart stutters in his chest. a combination of steve's general... steveness plus the implication of what the text said and his mind travels to a dirty, dirty, not meant for work place until he pieces it somewhat together and asks-
"...are you asking if i'm gay?"
steve huffs out a laugh and takes a step further into eddie's cubicle. there already isn't much room and with him coming in the tiniest bit closer, their toes are almost touching.
"sure," he says like it's the easiest thing to say on a thursday afternoon. "it can be a two-part question if you want."
a few things run through eddie's head all at the same time:
steve's close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off of the arm he now has resting on his desk, and he's really about to come out to a coworker which he normally leaves for at least 6 months into a new job, and that he thinks he's going to pass out if steve is actually asking what he thinks he's asking.
do you want to write smut while you're on my cock?
he doesn't know where he finds the courage, honestly. call it a slow thursday, call it a little extra motivation for his novel. eddie scoots closer and throws caution to the wind.
"then yes to both."
he's never seen steve's office. he's been to the top floors before when some higher up needed him to install a web browser on his new desktop so he has kind of an idea of what the private offices look like.
eddie didn't expect the first time that he got to see steve's office would be spread out, bent over his desk with his novel pulled up on his laptop while steve runs his hands over his ass.
"here's how this is going to work," steve whispers close to his ear while he lays against his back, snaking a hand up to undo the knot of eddie's messy tie, popping open a button on his dress shirt in the process. "you stop writing, i stop fucking you."
with a hum, eddie presses his hips back, up on his tiptoes with his off brand dress shoes pinching his feet tightly. "i think i can manage that."
"i'm not finished," he bites gently at eddie's ear lobe, returning his hands to palm over his ass cheeks. "everything i do to you, and i mean everything, needs to be written down. turn me into a character or something, i don't care, but i expect you to be thorough."
he doesn't mean to moan at the instructions, really he doesn't, but it's so easy to picture steve morphing into a character in his world. his mind races trying to figure out how exactly to write him into the scene that had already started, but with a snap of his fingers as the idea clicks, he writes out a quick line and looks at steve over his shoulder for approval.
"who's sylvar?" steve asks, pronunciation clunky on his tongue.
"sylvar is an elven prince, might as well make you him. besides, you both have an s name."
steve chuckles, his breath ruffling eddie's hair. "okay, fair. prince, huh?"
he doesn't have to look over his shoulder again to know that steve's smirking so he rolls his eyes and finishes the sentence, only breaking away to gasp as steve brings his hand between his thighs to spread them further apart.
"i'm gonna take a wild guess and say that elidyr is supposed to be you?"
eddie nods and pulls his tie off the rest of the way. "let's see, he's one of the prince's newest attendants, known for being a bit out of control, gets chastised for staring at the prince's ass in his khakis too much-"
"you're making that one up, huh?"
he tosses his tie to the side and brings a hand up to tangle in steve's hair, pulling his lips down to his neck and waiting for him to get the hint and start kissing. "steve, i'm making all of it up. that's the way writing a book goes."
"is that so?" he murmurs playfully against his neck, teeth pressing against the skin as he smiles, hands yanking on his hips to get eddie flush against his cock. "...i don't see you writing."
eddie huffs and shakes his head before writing out quickly how sylvar grabbed elidyr by the hips roughly to show him how excited he was. steve takes the typing as the go ahead and quickly undoes both of their pants before running his hands up eddie's now bare thighs.
he didn't really have any idea of how well he'd be able to hold out to steve's ministrations while having to write them out at the same time, but any confidence he had in himself leaves when steve's palm cups his cock through his briefs. eddie cants his hips forward and brings his hand back up to tangle once more in steve's hair.
and just like that, the touch is gone.
"oh, come on!" eddie whines and brings his hands back to the keyboard, typing in random filler words until suddenly he has no underwear and hands pulling his ass cheeks apart.
"gonna fucking take you apart... shit," steve whispers and eddie doesn't think he was supposed to hear it, but he writes it into the scene anyway.
there's a cool dribble of what must be lube on his hole and he fights against the shiver it sends up his spine. "you have lube in your office?"
"no, i have lube in my briefcase. big difference."
eddie doesn't really see how to the two are different, but he laughs to appease steve before getting cut short as a finger starts to enter him. he must whine, must jerk or do something wrong because it's leaving almost as soon as it had arrived.
"steve, i swear to god," eddie groans, head dropping down as he types without looking. poor nancy is going to have a hell of time reading and editing over this draft.
they both sigh when the finger presses into him once more and steve weaves his other hand into eddie's hair to pull him up and look at his screen. "there you go, just keep typing. write about how good it feels."
and shit. that's hotter than he expected it to be.
it goes well for all of a few minutes, eddie typing and steve reading over his shoulder, scissoring his fingers to get him nice and wet and open. they both somehow manage to keep their composure, filthy words being muttered out loud that then end up on the screen.
it's after steve gets him cock in him that it all goes down hill.
"oh fuck-" eddie moans as his leg gets hoisted up for a better angle. steve's grip on his hip is brutal, bound to be leaving bruises, as he pulls eddie back to meet him in the middle.
his chest is rubbing against the pleather desk cover, nipples catching on just the right side of painful when steve pushes his shirt up and out of the way. his dick is flopping against his thigh with every thrust, the lack of friction driving him insane.
he swears he only takes his hands away from the laptop for a second but then steve's pulling out quickly, dropping his leg and getting eddie off balance. he whines like he's throwing a temper tantrum before bringing his fingers back up to type more nonsense, gasping when steve slides back in like no time has passed.
"read it," he huffs next to his ear, "tell me how perfect you make fucking me sound."
"oh my god," eddie croaks, eyes rolling back as steve lets go of his hip once more to pull his head upright. "sylvar fucks wi-without abandon, hitting every right spot possible inside elidyr, the heat of his h-heavy cock punishing him making him mad with lust."
"good, yeah that's good. like when i fuck you hard?" steve grunts out before pistoning his hips even faster, eddie's moans bouncing off the bare office walls. "tell me more, keep going baby."
"the grip he uses to hold onto elidyr's hair is the only thing keeping him upright. this is all he could want, tending to the prince's every desire, being whatever the prince wants him to be." eddie expects it when the fingers in his hair curl even tighter, his back bowing against the desk with the pressure, but he still keens loudly at the pull.
steve chuckles roughly, like he's barely holding on himself, hips stuttering before evening out. "is that what you want?"
"wha-" eddie murmurs, not trusting his voice much more than that, his brain turning into mush. "is what what i want?"
"want to tend to my desires, want to be for me to use however i please?"
and the thing is, realistically, eddie knows this whole thing is weird, blending his two worlds together in a way he's never done before, but it doesn't stop him from forgoing the rules and bringing a hand down to work over his cock. "god, don't stop. please, please, please..."
steve must be tired of the game, too, because he doesn't even attempt to quit what they're doing to punish eddie as he stops writing. he barely has time to appreciate that the game is finally over because the hand in his hair slides around to rest gently around eddie's throat, pulling him up so his back is to steve's chest, every thrust punching out another gasping breath.
"answer the question," he says, punctuating each word with a snap of his hips. "gonna let me use you how i want?"
eddie has died and gone to heaven and the cause of death is a mixture of steve's tongue, hands, and cock. his mind wanders to what else they could do together, what else he'd let steve do, what else he wants steve to do. he sends up a quick thank you to whoever is listening that he saw the job posting for this company so he could be here in this moment with a possible sex god in his midst.
the hand that he had braced on the desk for support makes its way up to cover steve's on his throat, a barely there pressure combined with his quick fingers on his cock that sends him over the edge.
he breathes out a "yes" as he shoots come across the stop of steve's desk and see stars dancing in his eyes. steve fucks him through it, whispers filth of what he wants to do to eddie right into his ear, and when he comes back to himself, he digs his nails in the top of steve's hand.
"want it, want you, however you want me-" he chokes out.
and when steve finally comes inside of him, eddie makes sure he bends back down with his cock still pounding into him to write some line about how nice elidyr thinks it feels to filled up from someone who probably shouldn't be giving him the time of day. he tries not to find parallels as steve kisses up the back of his neck as he rocks his hips for the final time.
eddie's bare ass is in a mixture of their come as they maneuver him around to let him sit up and wrap his legs around steve's hips, pulling their spent cocks together while they lazily make out. steve's hands dance softly over his bare thighs, eddie threads his fingers through steve's hair.
"how does it end?" steve whispers against his lips.
"i don't know yet," eddie says truthfully, his mind wandering as kisses start to trail down his jawline. "how do you want it to end?"
"i don't suppose they have bars in this elf world, do they? one where they can go on an actual date to before going back to the palace or whatever to ravage each other?"
eddie grins, tipping his head back to catch steve's lips one more time in a slow kiss. "i can arrange for them to go to the tavern. i think they'd both like that."
the next morning, slightly hungover and draped over each other in steve's way too large bed, eddie ignores a text from nancy asking why the names change halfway through the draft and wondering who the fuck steve is. eddie silences his phone and goes back to sleep, so glad that he didn't double check his first message yesterday for typos.
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the-offside-rule · 2 months
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Drivers while their s/o studies
Just a mini series I felt like doing. : )
Charles Leclerc
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Charles smiled as he entered the room, holding a tray with snacks and coffee for Y/n who had been sitting at her desk since that morning. "Hello mom cœur, I thought you might need a little pick-me-up while you work." He said, placing the tray on the table. Y/n looked up from her laptop, a grateful smile forming. "Oh what would I do without you?" She said as she held his face and peppered soft kisses onto it as he emptied the tray onto the desk. "Cry, maybe." He joked.
Charles sat down beside her and began eating a protein bar before Y/n continued on typing. "How's it going anyway?" he asked, genuinely interested. "It's a bit overwhelming, but I'll manage. Your snacks will definitely help." She replied, taking a sip of the coffee. Charles chuckled. "I believe in you. I'll leave you to it for a bit, though. I'm going to meet Lorenzo and Arthur in the gym. You know how it is."
Y/n nodde. "Yeah, go ahead. I'll be here when you get back." He gave her a quick kiss on the forehead before heading out. "Take breaks, okay? Don't overwork yourself." He reminded her. "Of course, love. Have fun and give them my best!" As he left, Y/n couldn't help but smile. The small gestures made studying a lot more enjoyable, and she felt lucky to have Charles by her side.
Max Verstappen
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Max woke up to an empty bed, the confusion evident on his face. Rubbing his eyes, he ventured into the living room, where he found Y/n engrossed in her laptop. Y/n spotted him from the corner of her eye and smiled at his sleepy face. "Morning, sleepyhead. Slept well?" She teased, looking up from her work. Max chuckled, and walked over to her. "Yeah, until I realized I was all alone." He placed a kiss atop of her head and peered over her shoulder. "What are you up to?"
"Got an assignment to finish, but you can keep me company." She suggested with a smile. Max raised an eyebrow. "Company? I was expecting a romantic morning, not a work session." Y/n laughed, "Well, I can't help it. University." He rolled his eyes. "I told you, you should have just gave in to being a stay-at-home girlfriend and now here we are with you leaving me I'm bed to work." Y/n chuckled at the light hearted joke. "Well if you loved me you would sit right here with me and keep me company, like a good temporary stay-at-home boyfriend?" Undeterred, Max decided to make the best of the situation. "Fine, but how about some breakfast first? I'll cook."
As Max prepared breakfast, they bantered back and forth, the kitchen filled with laughter. Sitting down on the sofa with their plates, Max linked his phone to the TV and began watching his race upcoming debrief that Red Bull had sent him. Y/n glanced at the screen every so often, finding it unbelievably distracting and whilst he had to watch it for work, why couldn't he just watch it on his phone?"Mind turning that off? I need to focus." Max pouted playfully. "Aw, come on. It's just background noise." She shook her head, "No, it's distracting. I need to concentrate."
A minor disagreement ensued, but Max, ever the compromiser, reached a resolution. "Fine, wear these," he said, handing her a pair of headphones. "You study, I watch my debrief." Y/n huffed, taking the headphones, "Deal. Just don't complain if I fail my exam because of this." Max grinned. "Deal, as long as you promise we actually so something romantic later on." Y/n grinned and connected her headphones to the laptop and began playing her music.
Lando Norris
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Lando was deep into his online stream, enthusiastically commentating on his latest race in the virtual world. Meanwhile, Y/n diligently studied in the living room, trying to concentrate despite the growing noise. At first, it was fine because he only had Max on a voice call and then they started playing the F1 games and inviting drivers, and it all went to chaos.
The usual loudness was just about starting to sound normal until she heard a loud screeching from the streaming room. Y/n finally reached her limit. She threw her laptop to the side and stormed into the streaming room, wearing a bitter expression. Lando turned, smiling before the smile turned into a grim look. He...was...fucked. "Hi babe." He said quietly. "Lando, could you please keep it down a bit? I'm trying to study out here." She said calmly. She didn't want fans making up rumours about an argument.
Lando, still wearing his headset, looked guilty. "I will try, but Max is-" She cut him off. "Lando, you will be quiet. I cannot fail these exams. I just need you to be quiet. Understood?" He nodded. "I'm sorry, babe. I got carried away. I'll tone it down." The serious expression turned to a light hearted smile, before she looked to the computer, smiled and waved to greet the chat, before leaving.
Lando continued on playing, listening to the chaos on the call and not acting up. But the guilt lingered, and he suddenly had to leave the stream momentarily. "Hey, guys? I'll be right back. Just need to grab a drink, I'll be back in a sec. Promise." He announced to his fellow drivers and viewers before leaving the room. He rushed to the kitchen, returning to the living room with a peace offering of snacks and energy drinks for his girlfriend who sat on her bean bag with her study sheets sprawled across the coffee table. She looked up quickly before looking back to her work and continuing on typing. "I'm really sorry, Y/n. Here, I got you some goodies. Let me make it up to you." Lando said, kneeling down beside her and leaving a small plate of biscuits and sweets beside her. She looked between the plate and Lando, seeing the sincerity in his expression before she chuckled, accepting the snacks. "You're lucky you're cute when you're sorry. Just try to keep it down, okay?"
"Okay, I promise." He said, pecking her cheek and running back to the livestream with his can of Monster. Back in the streaming room, Lando continued his broadcast. He scrolled through the chat, noticing a comment from Y/n.
Thanks for the biccies, lovey <3 Good luck with your stream!
His fans erupted in supportive comments, finding the situation adorable. Lando couldn't help but smile, covering his face from how hard he was blushing. "You better leave me some 9f them biscuits, Y/n." Lando said into the camera. "Let's get back to the race, shall we?" The stream continued, with a more considerate Lando and a grateful Y/n watching from the sidelines.
Carlos Sainz Jr.
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As the creatures and people of Madrid lay asleep in their beds, Y/n sat on her laptop working away beside her boyfriend who had just come back from a race weekend on the other side of the globe. Carlos stirred in his sleep, as the soft glow of Y/n's laptop pierced the darkness. "What are you doing?" He mumbled, rubbing his eyes. Y/n glanced at him, her fingers dancing across the keyboard. "Sorry, babe. Got a deadline. Can't sleep." He sighed, and turned his back so he would be able to get even a glimpse of sleep. "Alright, just keep it down, please." He whispered. "Yes sir, Mr Sainz." She yawns, still typing.
In the morning, Carlos awoke to Y/n still typing away in their bed, exhaustion evident in her eyes. She got a lot of work done and had work in three hours. "Morning." He whispered, kissing her hand before sitting up. "Morning. Did you sleep alright?" Y/n asked. "Other than that one time you woke me, yes. Did you sleep at all?" Carlos asked. Y/n shook her head. "You should get some sleep before work. Finish this when you get home, yeah?" Y/n sighed in defeat. She wouldn't be able to go to work if she was this tired. Maybe a two hour sleep wouldn't hurt? " Carlos nodded, taking her laptop, placing it on the bedside table and tucking her into bed, . "You need to rest." He insisted. "I will wake you before work, mi amor." She reassured her, kissing her hair and letting her fall asleep.
When Y/n awoke, she looked out to see that the sun was awfully bright for 8am. Then she turned and saw Carlos walking into the room with a tray of coffee and toast. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked, sitting up. Carlos paused and looked at her. "Breakfast?" He replied in a question. Y/n looked at her phone, her eyes wide. "Oh my god! It's half past 11. I'm so fucking late!" She said. "No you aren't." Carlos replied, placing the tray on his locker. "I had work two hours ago!" She protested.
Carlos shook his head. "I called your boss, said you were sick." Y/n's eyes widened to what he had said. "Why'd you do that?" She asked. "Because you needed it." He replied, pulling the duvet over them and putting his arm around Y/n. "Carlos, I cant-" He cut her off. "Should we watch Berlín? It's meant to be really good." He said, flicking through the Netflix. "Babe. I'm serious. I need to go to work." She said. "And I have said before; you could quit work and I'll take care of you. You won't quit but I am still gonna take care of you. Now stay with me in bed and help me pick a series for us to watch."
She stopped complaining and lay in his arms. "Yeah. Berlín sounds good." She mumbled quietly. "Good, now here's some toast."
George Russell
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George had brought Y/n to race weekends before, but this time, she found herself confined to the team's hospitality area, engrossed in her upcoming exams. She looked up to the TV evey so often to see how her boyfriend was doing before turning her attention back to her laptop. Like an angel sent, George decided to check in on her in between sessions, finding her buried in textbooks and notes.
"Hey, how's it going?" he asked, pressing a kiss onto her head and leaning on the table. Y/n looked up, tired but determined. "Just trying to survive this study session. Well done on topping the session by the way." George grinned. "It's only the second practise. I think we know what strategy we're going for in qualifying though." He chuckled. "Have you eaten?" Y/n thinks for a moment and shakes her head. "You do know, you need to eat too."
She sighed, burying her head in her hands from exhaustion. "I know, I just lost track of time. Can you grab me something?" George smiled. "Of course." He replied, leaving momentarily and heading to the barista bar. He returned moments later with a croissant and a latte, placing them in front of her. "Fuel for the brain." he said with a smile. Y/n looked up at him appreciatively, "You're my hero, Mr Russell. Thank you so much."
"No problem. I know how important these exams are for you." He replied, sitting beside her. As she sipped the latte and nibbled on the croissant, George and her began talking. "Anything I can help with? Maybe a quick break to clear your mind?" Y/n smiled. "You being here is already a huge help. But maybe a motivational speech wouldn't hurt."
"Im not doing motivational speeches." They both burst into laughter, lightening the mood in the cozy hospitality space. George wrapped his arm around Y/n, offering comfort and support. "You're the best distraction," she admitted, leaning into him. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "And you're the best thing that ever happened to me."
Lance Stroll
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Lance sighed as he opened the door to his bedroom after his return from the gym to find Y/n looking a bit frustrated. He arched a brow as he sipped from his water bottle and decided to approach her, concern evident in his eyes. "What's wrong, babe?" He asked, sitting down beside her. She sighed. "I'm not sure, but I just can't study. Maybe it's just because of how different it is from studying in my office back home." Lance thought for a moment."How about you use my office? It's quiet, and you'll have all the space you need." He suggested. "Oh no, I couldn't." She replied. "No, seriously. I never use it anyway."
Y/n's face lit up with gratitude as Lance led her to his office. The room was filled with shelves displaying Lance's collection of racing helmets and trophies. The large floor-to-ceiling window revealed a breathtaking snowy landscape of their estate. "This is perfect." Y/n whispered, finding the desk facing the wonderous view. Lance smiled, happy to help her. "If you need me just call. I'm just gonna hit the shower." He said, pressing a kiss onto her cheek. "Thank you, babe." She grinned, setting her stuff down. "Anytime." He shot back before leaving and making his way to his bathroom to shower.
Y/n had gotten a lot done since she sat down. The view was a perfect distraction but not too distracting that she couldn't focus. If anything, it was there to just calm her down before getting right back to it. An hour passed, and Lance returned with snacks, finding Y/n engrossed in her studies. "Hey, how are you getting on?" He asked, peering through the door. "Doing good, Lancelot. I am doing good." She smiled, still jotting down some notes. He walked in with a tray of snacks. In between him showering and him walking around the kitchen, he decided Y/n needed to take a break and made up a snack tray to bring her.
"Need a study break?" he asked, handing her a twix. Y/n grinned, "Definitely. Thanks for this, Lance. This office is amazing." Lance chuckled, "Well, it's only fair you get a taste of my world too. Plus, I like having you happy." As they enjoyed their snacks, the conversation turned from how everyone in the house has an office to the trophies and helmets on the walls.
"You know-" Lance began, taking down his Balu trophy from back in 2017. "This one's from my first podium. I was so excited that day." Y/n smiled as she sipped her cola. "I can see why. You've got an impressive collection of trophies, Lancey." He looked at her warmly. "But none of them compare to having my trophy girlfriend. I worked my ass off to even get you on a date." Y/n laughed. "I'm serious! You kept saying no!"
"You should've taken the hint." Y/n replied. "Then who would be sat in this office?" Lance asked. "I don't know. One of those weird models that throw themselves at you, I guess." She joked. "Yeah, but I prefer you." Lance said. There grew a comfortable silence before Lamce stood up, collecting the wrappers off the snacks and putting them back onto the tray. "I guess it's time for you to get back to studying." Lance said. "Thank you for the company." Y/n smiled as Lamce leaned down to give her a kiss. "How about we watch a movie later and order takeout? Sound good?" Lance suggested. Y/n nodded. You really are a dream."
390 notes · View notes
iznsfw · 9 months
Text
Day-Off
Kep1er's Shen Xiaoting x Male Reader x Male Friend Smut
10,884 words
Categories | masturbation, handjob, blowjob, facefucking, cunnilingus, anal, spitroast, thighfucking, slapping
Masterlist | Mobile Masterlist | Commission me!
First commission! :D Thanks for funding my siblings' allowances and my search for a new laptop. I'm not even being sarcastic; your tips and commissions help me out a lot. Work can be cruel.
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Okay, to begin with: one could say Xiaoting’s a little pent up. Just a little is what she'd like to say, for the sake of everyone around her, but with the way things are going, she might as well be flat-out enraged. Fucking unhinged, if you will. She’s a nudge away from screaming and wrecking everything everywhere all at once, all over the place. 
The problem? Well, it's not an easy answer. But this is the short one: it's not at all fun being kept in the company building to practice more even after they've replayed the comeback song more times than she can count on her fingers. There's a one, a two, and a one, two, three—
Cue the music! 
(Yeah, that wasn't a particularly short answer.)
"So, I was thinking…" hums Yujin, sedentary beside her and with a head on her shoulder. 
Every bone in Xiaoting’s body is on fire after the rehearsals. But: "What is it?" 
See, it's been a rough day, but not too rough that she's going to take it all out on her best friend. No matter what happens, she is and always will remain an angel to Yujin. Nothing more, nothing less. They're practically sisters with how much time they've spent together. She guesses she should return the favor of friendship in her own little way.
Here's how it is with her and Yujin as of present: they're in the practice room, and it's quiet. The rest of the group have emptied the place out and the two of them are alone. This is usually the time Xiaoting and she catch up with each other; there isn't much time to do that in between packed schedules, but since then she’s formed quite a friendship with her bandmate, and she’s determined to keep it strong.
Yujin taps her chin cutely. "Are the CCTVs' audio on?"
Xiaoting raises a brow. A smile, however, settles for the first time on her face. "Choi Yujin," she says, both seriously and kiddingly, "what the hell are you planning now?"
"Language.”
“The girls—"
"—aren't here," Yujin fills the blanks in for her with her signature eye smile. "Exactly, thank you for bringing that up. They can't join us when we go there."
She blinks, not catching on. "Go where?" 
The older girl pushes two index fingers together. "I may or may not have negotiated with the manager," she says slyly, "and we may or may not have a day-off tomorrow."
Genuine and grateful shock filters into Xiaoting’s Bambi-wide eyes. The sides of her mouth twitch, and she realizes it’s a smile. It takes news like this to bring out a big, giddy one from her. It's the right news at the perfect time.
(No, it can't be merely called news—it's a blessing. The universe is finally kind to her. Maybe it doesn't deserve the endless curses she's thrown at it after rough days, when it's chosen to bear the weight of the sky on her.
Xiaoting, however, is fantastic at holding grudges.)
"You're kidding!" says Xiaoting happily. Her hands grip Yujin's shoulders, and now she's got the girl swaying to and fro driven by her own excitement. Force is something she doesn't relent, so Yujin's forced to bear the calamity of her happiness with the repeated rocking. “Yujin unnie, oh my god, you’re the best!”
"Calm down!" she chides with a giggle, but the girl's energy only goes up.
"We've got to go somewhere! Somewhere fancy, Yujin unnie, somewhere like a… a…"
What could be the perfect place to go for a day-off? The two of them have already gone to a massage therapist, as well as blown money on massive shopping sprees. That film screening’s crossed out, too. Now, with all of those boxes checked, they need a new one to add to the list. 
"A hot spring," Yujin declares rather than suggests, a cheeky grin on her face. Seems like she’s been scheming about a day-off for more than a while. "We're going to, like, a super private hot spring. It’s really exclusive, so even if people recognize us, we’ll be fine. Privacy is one of the reasons why it’s got five stars on Google reviews.”
Xiaoting leans back into the mirror and thinks about it. A private hot spring? No need to think if people would see her or not? It sounds too good to be true. She loves being an idol despite the schedules and cramped day-offs, but it definitely won’t hurt to be able to be herself where it won’t matter. It would drain the stress from her life even for just a little while.
Who knows? She might even make some new friends.
“I’m in!” 
-
Well, someone isn't, but that's how the story goes.
-
“Isn’t this kind of like nepotism?”
The creases on your clothes don’t smooth out by themselves. You guess you shouldn’t have procrastinated ironing them, especially now that you’re bringing them along for a trip. Look over at your friend's luggage and see that his clothes aren’t that perfect either, which comforts a much more unprioritized concern.
“Dude,” he sighs as he folds his clothes into organized (or at least, as organized as they can be) places inside his luggage bag, “do you even know what nepotism means?”
He got you. You make a sigh of your own, too; your main concern being the whole vacation thing is rather odd. It really shouldn’t be when it’s a promise of a good time, food served limitlessly, and the waves always there to crash on a tired soul, but it still sets you off.
What could be the reason for your gut feeling? You haven’t been able to figure out why. All you know is that if Lee weren’t your friend, you’d have refused to go. You would have fought not to go, but your circumstances are different, hence the clothes scattered along the carpeted floor of his room and the unzipped luggage carry-ons.
Your belongings sit side by side in your bag. Your earphones are tangled strings and your clothes are wrinkled; they don’t want to go either, apparently. They all yearn for home, just like you are, even if you’re just in the packing stage of the trip. 
Maybe they’ve got little introverted souls of their own.
“No,” you admit. Your back slumps. “It just… it just doesn’t seem fair, y'know."
“Who cares?” Lee says, in his usual, laid-back manner. It’s the thing that made the two of you close friends in the first place, but right now, it’s interfering with helping him understand your situation. Pity. “Lin works there, so it isn’t exactly a privilege. He works his ass off, and since he’s been a long-time employee, we get to stay there for free. Isn’t it neat?”
Lee looks at you with an expression that prods you to agree, but you don’t budge. It’s kind of funny how you refuse to enjoy a free connections-caused vacation when your morals are already fucked up as is, but when you believe in something, you don’t really back down easily.
Is that a good trait? Not exactly; it has its fair share of bad days.
“What about people who lose a booking spot because of us?” 
“Fuck them, man,” Lee says nonchalantly, waving a hand in the air. “I’m going to have fun, and nothing can ruin that for me.”
How you’re friends with someone who’s your complete opposite, you’ve no idea. But you like Lee—he’s been there for you when no one wanted to be, and you owe more to him than an agreement to a vacation. If that’s the case, why couldn’t you just go?
You say nothing. You don’t know what else to say anyway. Any more words from you might dig a deeper hole than you’ve already dug, so you choose to be silent. Sometimes it’s better to keep your mouth shut than explain yourself. 
“Hey,” he suddenly says, a softer melody to his tone now. “I’m sorry. I know you’re not too happy about going out, so if you want to back out, it’s totally fine with me. No hard feelings.”
You know he’s just trying to be kind, as anyone would, but his words tell you anything but not to go. Thing is, you don’t like being a burden on his back. On anyone’s back for that matter. Maybe it’s time to dip your toes out of your comfort zone and just dive headfirst into doing it. The whole thing would be over sooner than you’d think.
"I guess I'm in," you say. No going back now. 
"I fucking love you, man!" Lee cheers, throwing his arms around you. 
You have to admit you're smiling. Stifle it, but the creases of happiness get your cheeks unable to form a disguise. Decide not to hide it anymore (because who the fuck are you kidding anyway?) and return to packing.
In a slightly better mood, you fold one graphic shirt over the other, and ask, "What's the hype about the place anyway?"
"Well," Lee explains, "it's a hot spring. It's where celebrities, idols—all the hot people, basically—go for a vacay."
"Does that make us hot people then?" you wonder out loud. It's worth the question.
"You are a good-looking dude. I'd definitely tap that."
"Thanks." An embarrassingly lengthy beat. "Wait, what—"
"They pay really good, too," Lee goes on as if nothing happened. "That's why Lin likes working there. It has unlimited portions of dinner and a big buffet at night. The water's really warm, too, so you're not gonna shiver when you get in."
"Ah. Well,” shrug matter-of-factly, “it is a hot spring."
He smirks. "You don't get it, do you? The water there is perfect for external detoxifying. That's where Nayeon goes to get perfect skin."
There he goes again. Lee’s the type of person to be too in the know of every piece of celebrity gossip out there. That quality of his goes up when it’s about his favorite idol, Im Nayeon. 
"You're too in love with her," you scoff.
"We have a connection, is all."
"A parasocial one at that."
"One more word out of you," Lee says, voice full of warning, "and you're banned from my house and the hot spring."
You chuckle. Lee's quite sensitive when it comes to Nayeon. You wonder if there would be a point in your life wherein you'd obsess over an idol, too, just like he is. Perhaps a few months from now? 
(A day from now?)
"Oh, come on," you protest. Zip up your bag and shove it over to Lee. "It's not my fault you genuinely believe Nayeon's your girlfriend!"
"I don't, what the fuck."
"Then why do you want to go to the hot spring so badly? Think you can meet her there?" Put on a mocking voice. "Think you can marry her and have seven children with her?"
Lee glowers and gives you the finger. Gives you the finger on the other hand, too. Shoves the two raised middles into your face. "Fuck you, man."
Your heart feels lighter after teasing him. It just so happened that all it takes for you to agree is the classic ol' nagging. God knows you're good at that.
-
Your mind changed, see? It’s all going according to plan—you and Xiaoting have to meet somehow.
-
Xiaoting's happy that they're going to use the trailer. She knows it might attract attention, considering that a photo of her girl group is literally painted on the outer walls of the vehicle, but if the world sees fit, maybe people would assume it's a normal trailer with a fan-funded ad. 
Besides, it's better than her manager's tight old car. 
"We've got this place all to ourselves," Yujin says in her usual cheerful voice. She’s opted to go donning a lavender set of pajamas. Xiaoting chooses to wear a denim skirt and a t-shirt. "Which seat will it be, Ting?"
She scans the place. There are aisles and aisles of empty seats, all mantled with transparent plastic. There's a bathroom in the far end (essential after they eat some nice burgers on the road) and a television mounted at the very front of the trailer (gotta know what happens in the next episode of Running Man, after all).
Ultimately, they choose to sit near the doors. She suggests that they each occupy two seats opposite each other for comfort. Her friend agrees, thinking nothing of it. They both settle into their seats with pillows pressed to the trailer walls and the night sky watching their trip.
Would it watch if she decided to look at porn right now? Would the stars lose their shine after seeing the kinks she’s particularly into?
Oh, she knows it's risky, but she's got her headphones with her, hanging 'round her neck like an accessory. Yujin and the driver won't be disturbed that way. And she’s got mobile data, too. If they ever check the Wi-Fi router history, they’d know nothing about her secrets. At least, she doesn't think so.
She bites her lip. Yujin's still awake, so she has to hold out for a few more minutes.
"Isn't it nice getting to go out once in a while?" Yujin asks. She sighs dreamily as she looks out at the passing roads. The moon gleams in the reflection in her eyes. "It’s been a while since we went on a road trip. Not that fun when cameras are around."
Xiaoting's thighs squirm together. She's too horny for small talk with her. Her hands and eyes remain locked on her phone, where a video of a woman with spread legs between two anonymous men waits. She wants to watch it already, to imagine that it’s her body they’re using. She wants to sink her fingers deep in her own cunt and fuck herself into a quiet yet violent orgasm. She needs it more than she could say, but Yujin’s still there, waiting for a response.
“Ting-ah,” Yujin calls out, looking at her with eyes full of expectation. She’s confused; Xiaoting is quiet, but not so much that her responses are nonexistent. Something must be wrong. “You okay?”
“Y-yeah.” Does she dare…? Xiaoting hopes the dark night covers her hand, which edges down to her covered core. She bites her lip to muffle the moany sound of her breath catching on a hook. “We deserve this. Let’s hope the girls aren’t jealous.”
“They’re going to stay at Disneyland,” replies the leader. “If anything, we’re the ones who should be jealous.”
Xiaoting finds her clit and rubs at it softly with the tip of her finger. Her thighs instinctually lock her wrist in place. The heat gathers at her bundle of nerves and spreads to the rest of her body. She’s too turned on, and the thought of Yujin or the driver finding out that she’s touching herself both frightens and excites her. At times, her wrist stops its choreographed motions, hesitance riddling its veins, but goes against it with a pace even she can’t keep up with.
“Xiaoting? Earth to Shen Xiaoting?”
“Ah,” she responds, but it’s more induced by her fingers drawing number 8s on her nub rather than an apologetic answer. Xiaoting’s cheeks and ears turn red. “Yeah, Disneyland. They’re younger anyway, so I’d guess they’d like… that.”
Yujin peers at her closely. Her eyes squint but fail to catch on to her groupmate’s hand which now starts to fuck her fingers into her tight hole. “Are you okay?” 
Xiaoting is more than okay. She’s blissful, and she’s not using the term loosely, mind you; her wetness practically floods her panties. They slicken the pads of her fingers and drive them through deeper places in her needy cunt. No matter how hard she tries to relax in order for her fingers to intrude her hole more, she still desperately clenches down. It’s humiliating how hard and sensitive her nipples have become even without them being directly touched.
Her hips sway in what she prays is a subtle dance. She looks out the window and nods. She’s a little afraid to speak. What if her words end up becoming garbled moans? Would it matter if they do? How high is the possibility of her saying something like please please let me touch myself, I’ll be a good girl, don’t make me stop I’ve been so good?
Yujin eventually lets the matter rest and melts into sleepful rest herself. It’s either she has an idea of what Xiaoting is doing and doesn’t care enough to pry, or has no idea at all and decides to leave it be for both of their sakes. Her head leans on the window pane where her sleep-ridden eyelids reflect.
Once Xiaoting ensures that her eyes are completely shut, she connects her headphones to her phone. Her mind’s so addled by lust that the clicking of buttons necessary to wire the sound matches the speed of light. She hits the play button, waiting eagerly for the video with the hand between her legs.
One of the men teases the woman’s tiny slit with his cock, making the actress toss her head back and bite her lip. Xiaoting’s mouth waters at how big the rod is, and suddenly it’s not lust much anymore but wishfulness. She wants to be fucked as good as she could be, and it can’t easily be solved with watching pornography. For now, though, she settles with teasing her clit with the same rhythm one of the male pornstars is performing on the passive woman.
Her heart aches with want. As she watches him penetrate her while his partner fucks her mouth, she teases herself. Her breaths break through her nostrils while her fingers rub up and down between her drenched folds. She dips her middle digit inside her clenched hole, and she has to gather her strength not to moan unabashedly right then and there. The power of imagination reaches beyond excellence, and right now she’s imagining that she’s in the same position as the porn actress: having both her upper and downer lips fucked at the same time.
“Fuck,” she whispers. It’s a thin little word, barely creating any sound, but she still looks at Yujin out of paranoia. Upon finding that she remains asleep, she continues fucking herself. The sides of her fingers clash with her velvety walls to rub and stimulate them. Her wrist bumps her clit, increasing the pleasure of the experience.
Her pussy’s closed tightly around her fingers, as if telling them to go on or they’ll be trapped here doing it forever. Soon, she has to lift her hips too to mash them with her hand. Xiaoting’s filling herself over and over again, and her risque little self-love session is amplified with the dirtiest of thoughts. She thinks how badly she wants to be used, to be treated like the good girl she’s willing to ditch her whole persona to be. She ponders on how good it would feel if her holes were to be filled with cock and fingers and cum, and the way it would never stop even after she’s spent. She guarantees that’s the part that makes her excited the most.
Soon, she’s lost in her own dream. This isn’t exactly a dream slumber would stumble across, but it’s perfect—it’s an imaginary land where she’s given what she wants. What she wants just so happens to be fucked. That’s how simple it is. She’d appreciate nothing more than to have her body rubbed and touched, to have her holes spread to their limits and taken in a way that’s almost inconsiderate. 
It's a fantasy she has, in fact, of being screwed by two people at once. She’s read the explicit fictional stories horny fans on the internet write about her, but she’s chosen to enjoy them rather than report them to her agency. They get some parts right: she wants to be fucked, she’s constantly on edge, and would love to have her sexual dreams fulfilled. The problem here is that there’s no one to make them come true for her; she has to stick with overused words in old fanfiction site posts and her fingers.
The two men’s symphony of moas draw wetter strings of lubrication from her cunt. It’s as if the video were an actual critically acclaimed movie with how much she’s hooked onto it. She imagines the best she could that it’s her ass that fat cock is going into, her mouth that’s being ruined, her clit that’s being rubbed. She wants it all more than anything.
“Please,” she says. Her legs cross and her voice strains to be allowed to scream. “Fuck me, use me, pound me… ‘lmost there…”
Xiaoting shuts her eyes and lets the sounds get to her: the clashing of skin, the wet squelching sounds that are either coming from her pussy or the pornstar’s, the male and female moans alike. She pumps faster, and she’s chasing her high like a starved hunter for prey. She’s chasing after it, grasping it—
“Cumming!”
The shock settles in before she squirts all over the seat. The worst thing is that she’s not able to stop the stream of girl cum coming from her pussy despite her hand halting its movements. She can’t take back her words either. Someone definitely heard that.
“Ting-ah,” says a drowsy Yujin. She lifts her head off the window and squints through blurred vision to try and make out what happened. “Did someone say anything?”
“Yes… ah, no.” Xiaoting thanks goodness that her voice isn’t brittle anymore. “I think I just, uh, spilled my water.”
“Oh. Want me to help you clean it up?”
“It’s, it’s fine,” Xiaoting declines politely and waves her off. 
(Fuck, she wasn’t supposed to dismiss her with that hand! Luckily, she explained the reason for the wetness just now. She just hopes the atmosphere doesn’t stink of fluids and cum.)
Still, long after the girl drifts off to sleep again, Xiaoting discovers that it isn’t enough. She could have the most head-numbing orgasms known to woman, but they still won’t feel as good when they’re not drawn out of her by someone else. 
So, what should she do?
-
Planes are the closest thing to the Devil incarnate. Whose idea was it to throw people into the sky where they could disappear with the wrong turn? It’s bad enough on the ground, but when you’re talking about being in the sky where the weather can pull you down without effort, the danger makes your skin crawl more.
So, when Lee told you that he booked two seats on a plane to get to the infamous hot spring, (the time of the explanation conveniently being when you were already miles from home in the goddamned car), you freaked out. That’s the lightest way you can put it.
“What the fuck do you mean we’re getting on a plane?” you ask, trying to keep your voice at a level wherein the taxi driver won’t hear your toddler-like complaints.
“Are you serious?” your friend fires back, although his title as a friend would have withered instantly if not for your genuine admiration for the guy. “It’s in Seoul, what did you expect us to do? Walk like twenty-thousand miles to get there?”
You let out a little hoarse laugh and clap your hands together sarcastically. Taking theater in high school has seriously influenced your ways. “You know I hate heights, Lee! Oh, and what a great argument you have there: using that White Chicks song to defend yourself. Really mature.”
“That’s A Thousand Miles, you moron!” Lee punches your shoulder. “I already booked a flight, so you either go through or go home. Deal with it.”
You’d have chosen the latter, but you really don’t want to drag your heavy bags home. The roads have been crossed and the wheels have rolled—you can’t back out now. It would break the whole puzzle from the first jigsaw piece to the last. 
Besides, you did tell yourself that it was time to step out of your comfort zone. It would take blocking out flashbacks of when the plane made an emergency landing back when you were four years old and on a family trip, but no one promised that it would be easy. 
The driver flashes the two of you dirty looks. You and Lee immediately take the hint to calm down and save the conversation for later.
Entering the airport and discovering that the drop-off place is underground reminds you of the second closest thing to the Devil incarnate: the cursed invention that is the elevator. 
Choose any elevator out there: an office elevator, a Barbie dreamhouse rope-controlled one, or the other unholy name they take up which is “lift.” Whatever and wherever doesn’t matter. You hate all of them equally, the contempt in your heart going out for each one that exists. It doesn’t matter which form they transform into. You will always hate them with every piece of your soul.
It just turns out that perhaps your overly paranoid gut feelings were right this time, for today, you experience the worst of not one, but two hells of your worst fears.
“You know,” say out loud as you suspiciously examine every cramped corner of the elevator, “I have to start saying no sometimes. I don’t need this, man.”
Lee scoffs. “You say ‘no’ all the time.” He tracks the numbers going up on the little screen above the elevator buttons. “You should actually start doing the opposite.”
Once again, guilt runs through your blood like a drug. It definitely won’t be a recreational one; you realize through it that all your life, you’ve sheltered yourself in a bubble where no discomfort could ever pop in and welcome itself into your home. It’s carried on into adulthood and, like that of an irritating intrusive thought, won’t leave. It’s a painful discovery, and you don’t want to think about it more.
The elevator seems to shrink around you. You can only think of how there would be the plane to not look forward to as well, and you feel even sicker.
One step at a time, buddy. One step at a time.
The gray doors part and welcome you to a floor of marble, promotional tarpaulins that hang from the high ceiling, and lots of people. You release a breath of relief.
“Look, I’m sorry, man,” says Lee. He rolls his luggage out of the claustrophobia-causing nightmare and shrugs. 
It’s his second apology of the day. He tries to play it off with small smiles, but he’s obviously down. He’s never forced you to do stuff you weren’t comfortable with until now, and because of that, it’s ruining the trip. You’re ruining the trip. It hasn’t even fully begun yet.
“You don’t have to say that all the time, you know.” 
“I know, but I…” He shakes his head. “I just want to have a nice vacation with my closest friend. I’m sorry if I keep pushing your limits—”
“My limits are anything that make me feel, like, even the slightest bit uncomfy,” you inform him with a small, lighthearted grin. “Don’t feel bad about it. You’re still a dick, though.”
“And you still don’t know what A Thousand Miles is.”
Scoff and walk faster. You and Lee meet each other’s gazes along the way and grin. It’s how you know everything’s going to work out.
Your wristwatch says that it's nearly one a.m.. Explains why your eyelids are heavy, but you keep going. If you persevere, the inevitable sleep on the flight would distract you from everything. Make your world lighter for just a few hours. Jetlag’'ll come around, though, but fending off flight anxiety is your main concern now. 
Climbing into the plane, you find your seats. Lee calls dibs on the window seat, which you have no problem giving to him. The light clouds in the dark sky and the shining city lights beneath them all may look photogenic, but it's a far cry from fascinating to you. It's a nightmare, a complete opposite from beautiful.
"Soda or coffee?" asks the flight attendant. She's pretty—she looks like she could be the Nation's Sweetheart with her youthful face and timid yet polite smile. 
(Wait…)
You don't drink either of them anyway. Soda's too carbonated, and coffee would just keep you awake. That’s the last thing you need to be. "Water, please."
"Boring," Lee says. He turns to the flight attendant. "I'll take both, if you please."
"Seat 1112, am I correct?"
"Sure are." He leans back onto the armrest and smiles.
You roll your eyes at Lee practically making heart eyes at the flight attendant. He's trying to look all cool, too. Shake your head as you drink from the water bottle the woman gave you.
"I apologize, sir, but your payment doesn't cover two drinks. May I offer you water instead?"
Water streams out of your nose. Laughs shake your chest and shoulders. The poor old lady over at the front rows looks at you curiously. A man's stifling his laughs while Lee tries to debate which party should be more embarrassed: him or you.
A fair tie?
“That was so not cool, man,” Lee grumbles. He lifts the cup full of mineral water to his lips and drinks it halfheartedly. 
“Hey, not my fault you only think with your dick.”
“Whatever. Fine.” He looks at the attendant serving other people again. “She kinda looks like IU, doesn’t she?”
You tilt your head. He could be right; you might have caught a glimpse of a camera around the corner. Maybe she was doing a variety show role? And with that face looking strikingly identical with Korea’s household name, there’s a chance that his attempt to pick the Lee Jieun up was just broadcasted on live television. 
Wipe your mouth. “You like IU, too, don’t you?” you ask.
Lee shrugs. “Her surname isn’t for nothing, ain’t it? She’s like my number two after Nayeon.”
“And you realize that you’re probably gonna get eaten up by her fans on Pannchoa if she’s really IU?”
“Yep,” your friend says with a nonchalant tilt of his head. “Who cares? Anybody in Korea would die to have IU in his life, or at least, someone who looks like her.”
You have a feeling that it foretells something that would change the trajectory of your lives forever. How and why, you don’t know. You guess you’ll just have to survive the flight to find out.
It takes a long time to get you to find out. The whole ride is a headache. Turbulence knocks the plane side to side, and you’re constantly bumped awake from your sleep. You’re thankful that you didn’t choose to get risky and choose the window seat. If you did, you’d have multiple fears of suddenly falling from the sky and into an ocean called the Middle of Nowhere. You try to get Lee to pull the small blinds of the window down to soothe your fears, but he’s too fascinated by how the clouds wisp and wane over the wings of the plane. He did give in to letting you use his blanket, though, so you decide that it’s okay.
Landing is a different story. Your palms feel numb after holding onto the armrests for so long. They lose color, stiffening upon the solid coping mechanism and persevering the best they can. While the others, especially the older men, clap politely after the plane meets earth again, you sit there breathless. 
“Wasn’t so bad now, was it?” Lee asks. He’s clapping, too, earning the approval of an old American guy to his right. 
Glower. “Fuck you."
-
You have to admit: it is quite a nice place. You'd say that to Lee, but you're still in a bad mood after the flight. 
The hot spring lifts your spirits anyway. Small well-furnished buildings reserved for the esteemed guests (a.k.a you and Lee) stand to the side while the hot spring pools are modestly curtained. Tangled lights pepper the poles, making Christmas come early. The night pairs up with it to make shadows on the grass. 
You feel like a rich man. Rich men aren’t exactly all that honest, but you’re truthful when you say that perhaps it was a good idea to join Lee on the trip.
"Now remember," Lee tells you, dressed in a pair of swimshorts like you, "the expensive places like this one separate the women from the men. So you gotta be careful."
"Sounds like my old Sunday school." Translation: easy to follow.
Sunday school also taught that greed isn’t good. That’s one thing you can’t reject because you crave for more of this place. The clear, chlorine water seeping into the grass from the brim of the pool and the large buffet set out on a long table before the hot springs all draw you closer to more than one of the seven deadly sins. You want more of this rare luxury even if you’ll bite off more than you can chew.
At least you have Lee as your partner on the highway to hell.
"All I'm saying is," he pulls back the curtain of one of the pools and gestures a welcoming hand, "be mindful 'cause—"
"Hey, what the fuck!"
You almost jump out of your flip-flops. Look around to see who screamed, then realize you have nowhere to look but forward. 
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There lies (swims?) your answer: a young, red-haired woman is in the warm water, glaring as she covers up her body. There's not much to cover when her exposed tight midriff already has ample show space below the bikini, but the shock in her eyes shows that there's more to this than modesty. She was doing something she never intended to be seen.
Looks like your friend didn't live up to his words about carefulness. He just invaded the women's pool. And now you're pulled into the mess and could be fined for this and that. You're already broke enough as is, so the irritableness inside you grows again.
"Oh my god," Lee says. He looks curious despite the shock on his face. Seeing this girl is like deja vu—he swears on his life he’s seen her before.  "I'm so sorry. W-we, we didn't…we're sorry, miss—"
"It’s Xiaoting," the girl says. "Be careful, you almost gave me a heart attack!"
Her name rings a bell, but it’s only a light sound. You swear you’ve heard of her somewhere—that face belongs on magazines, and with the hot spring being the go-to for celebrities, there’s a big chance she’s a famous name. 
Lee swallows. He sees it, too. "Is it the wrong time to say that you look just like IU?"
"Don't flatter me," Xiaoting says, though the venom in her words is suddenly stranded. Those red cheeks can't be induced by the fancy lights. "You can't just disturb a girl with her me time. Fucking leave."
Me time?
Slowly, all the pieces fall into place. You realize that the shock Xiaoting showed isn’t because of the pool regulations and restrictions about the guests, but because she’s doing something far more bold. Now you understand why her fingers, still covering her top, are wrinkled even when the red locks of her head aren’t wet.
“Oh, who am I kidding?” Xiaoting rolls her eyes. “I’ve been dying to get fucked all day.” 
“What?” you ask, your voice ridden with confusion from the sudden realization.
She eyes your stomachs, quads, and faces. Her big eyes are cameras—they sweep down your body and Lee’s own with accurate focus. You suddenly feel like shrinking into a small creature just to escape the power of her stare. In one way or another, she still brings her intimidating idol persona outside of the stage.
She drops her arms from her neck and shows off the whole of her body. It’s slim yet toned, gathering the most power in her midriff lined with light abs and her thighs that look delicious even when submerged in water. The black top and bottoms hug her figure so well it’s starting to look as if she had them personally handmade and tailored to look fantastic on her. 
“And those cocks,” she continues, looking at your crotches with a lick of her lips, “look perfect. Big enough to give my insides a good rearranging, you know?”
You and Lee look at each other, then back at Xiaoting. None of you expected that, even from a woman whom you assumed just masturbated in the pool. And whose name starts to sound more and more familiar.
"Are you…" you dare to ask.
"Shen Xiaoting," she replies. She's slowly stepping out of the pool. You'd die to be the water caressing her thighs. "You know Kep1er, don't you?"
Lee nods dumbly. 
She smiles. "I thought so. I knew you'd recognize me after you said I looked like IU."
"For what it's worth," your friend says, stumbling on his words, "I like IU. A lot. I got to know you when, uh, fans on Twitter said you looked like her."
"Would you fuck me like you want to fuck her?"
Now he has no words to stumble on. "I… uh…"
"Your friend doesn’t look too sure,” Xiaoting says after she turns to you. Resting her head on one side, she adds, charmingly: “How about we show him the real deal? Make him give in?”
You can’t believe what she’s saying. It’s both too good and too bad to be true. The first factor to this that’s a pro and a con is that she’s an idol. Didn’t she just say that she’s from Kep1er? If one of the hot spring staff couldn’t keep their mouth shut, a scandal would spread on news sites and social media alike that Kep1er’s visual and main dancer just fucked a random guy. Two random guys if this escalates. 
You can’t give in.
Xiaoting massages your shoulders.
You won’t give in.
And she runs her fingers along your chest and down to the band of your swimshorts. She pulls it down.
You shan’t give in.
Afterwards. she fishes your cock out from your gray underwear. You’re hard. She’s smiling.
You’ll never give in.
She pumps it. Her hand is as soft as it looks. The added texture from the wrinkles stimulates you more in a way that’s so fucked up it shouldn’t be allowed to happen. You bite your lip to break the moan that nearly escaped your lips.
Xiaoting drops to her knees.
You give your all.
Xiaoting kisses your tip then tickles your slit with the soft edge of her tongue. You exhale too loudly for her not to grin mischievously. Her bright eyes shouldn’t look so innocent when her full lips graze along your length, sealing at the base then harshly sucking all the way backwards. But they do, and you can’t look away. 
She’s trapped you. You’re a little embarrassed at how a girl who’s only met you and knows all the risks that come with fucking you still manages to reduce you to groans because you should be the bigger person here. You should play the devil’s advocate and tell her to get away from you with her nonsense and stupidly soft lips and irritatingly beautiful face. You should push her away. Yes, she should do everything but come closer; she should—
“Fuck me,” you breathe raspily.
“‘Course I will,” Xiaoting answers with a smile that’s too pretty for her own good. She faces your friends and flashes him a quiet smile. “Jealous yet?”
“No,” Lee answers. 
“Hm. I can do something about that.”
She deepthroats you, welcoming your bulge into her tight neck and letting it thrust in and out. The closeness of her airway greets you when you push, and her slick, wet mouth begs you to come back when you exit. It leaves you in a frenzy of indecisiveness—you don’t know what to choose: keep bluntly thrusting into Xiaoting’s throat or let your cockhead glide along her lips. Again, she makes you dizzy. Helpless. Weak.
“You sure know how to suck a dick,” says Lee enviously. The tightness of his shorts can’t hide his erection. 
Xiaoting pulls back. “Oh, I do,” she says. “I can do two things at once, if you know what I mean.” She levels him with a schemeful stare. “I’m very good at it.”
“Fuck.”
“What’s wrong?” she asks meekly. Her bottom lip juts out, “Want me to show you?”
Whenever Lee watches Kep1er’s V-lives or variety shows, he takes Xiaoting as someone who’s silent but forgiving. But now that he’s actually met her, he finds out that she’s the type of girl who doesn’t take no for an answer. If it weren’t already obvious from her rubbing his cock over his bottoms and her mouth sucking you away, she always gets what she wants. She might like to play quiet and innocent, but it’s clear that she isn’t any of that.
“Oh fuck,” he gasps. Her palm’s soft and smooth over the sensitive flesh of his erection. “Xiao– Xiaoting… you’re so—”
“Oh, so now you want to fuck me?” 
“I—uh—”
“Say it.” Xiaoting replaces her mouth on your cock with a furious, pumping hand and prods your friend on. Now she’s jerking the two of you off at the same time and leaves no second for you to breathe. “Say that you want to fuck me.”
“I want to fuck you, Xiaoting,” Lee says. He closes his eyes and hisses. “We want to fuck you so bad.”
You nod in agreement. Both of your male moans fill the air, making Xiaoting’s smile grow wider. She’s finally getting what she wants, and she’s not going to stop until it blooms to something better. She can already imagine being fucked by the two of you. She bets it’ll be better than just watching an old porn video.
The cause of the thrill is recognizable. Yujin could walk into the pool at any time and scream at the boldness, and if you and Lee weren’t trustworthy, she’d end up on the news and ruin her career. It’s the risk of being caught that quickens her jerking of your cocks, that makes her smile like never before.
“You’re close, aren’t you?” she coos. “You want to cum all for me so much it’s pathetic. But I like it, so don’t you worry. And I won’t mind if you shower me with your hot cum either, so do it.”
The pace of her hand jerking you off matches the speed of the one she’s using on Lee. Your breaths and moans mix with his, and you’re driven on by the redheaded girl nodding in encouragement. Her little nods remind you of how she took your cock so effortlessly just a few minutes ago, and you’re getting worked up again. 
“Getting excited, I see,” Xiaoting remarks, noting the thrusts the two of you fire into her closed fists.  “Make sure it isn’t for nothing. Cum on my face, my body, I don’t care. Just do it.”
Her soft voice is addicting; how can it pronounce such bold, dirty words while keeping the same touch of innocence to it? You don’t know what or why, but you don’t care anyway. You’re only going after the high that’s so close you can taste it. Maybe Xiaoting can taste it. You wouldn’t want anything less than that. 
On the other hand, you could go for more.
On Xiaoting’s other hand, Lee erupts. She closes her eyes in delight as he paints her with his overflowing semen. Her delicate face is caked with the bold fluid when it shouldn’t be—Xiaoting’s face should only ever be used in sweet, nostalgic commercials, not blasted with cum. But it is, and on the first impact, she immediately lets her tongue stick out. It’s the lewd expression on her face while doing it that finally makes you explode on her. 
A lot of it ends up on her face, but the lucky droplets slide down to her mouth. Xiaoting’s heart bursts with satisfaction at the most inappropriate of things, and this is the highest on the list of them. To be showered with cum by two anonymous men who could do anything with her if they please makes her shiver. She wants it. She wants you most of all.
And so when she gets up, she says, with a tone that warns the two of you that consequences will be consequences if you refuse: “Let’s get out of here.”
-
You end up in another place: her room. This day has just been setting change after setting change. You’re grateful that this one is well-furnished, though—any other bed would break if Lee had thrown Xiaoting like that on it. 
She likes it, however; she props herself up on the mattress after it went on with a wide smile. It’s more seductive than it should be, and for that reason, you pull off her shorts while Lee lifts her top over her body.
You’re not usually this confident. You like to stand at the side and let everything take its course. But Xiaoting just ignites something in you. She brings out a lust-crazed animal inside you that survives by fucking her numbless.
Maybe it’s her body that’s making you this way? Her arms and waist are thin, but her thighs are fuller than you expected. You part them and discover that her pussy is the same way. Her pink, puffy lips are soaked, and you’re here to clean her up.
“Oh my god, what are you doing… ahhh!” 
Xiaoting’s cry approaches a scream as you tongue her fat pussy. First, you flick her clit with a sudden expertness. Then, you latch your lips around it and give her the most powerful suction you can muster. Her wetness instantly floods your face. When she throws her head back to open her mouth, Lee comes up to make sure it’s put to good use.
“Suck me off, Xiaoting,” he tells her. “Like a good girl.”
How could she be a good girl? How could she be a well-behaved little thing when your tongue is completely ruining her, slick against her lips then wild inside her twitching hole? Xiaoting doesn’t think she can, but this is what she’s dreamed of. This is what she wanted, so she’ll go through it gladly.
Lee learns from her habits at not taking “no” for an answer and dips his hips on her face. Her lips spread and take his cock fully. She whines and tries to relax her throat to take his length, but her neck still ends up with a bulge imprinted on its flesh. 
Her engorged clit experiences the best of pleasure as your lips massage it. She finally screams and bucks her hips into your face, but you hold her down by her luscious thighs. Squeeze them, then spank them. There’s an unexpected voice inside you commanding you to pepper her creamy thighs with handprints again and again. You’d love to corrupt the paleness of her soft flesh with red. Mark her that way. Tell her that she got what she wanted. You want to see her twitch and cry and moan for more, and you want to give it to her since hell, who are you to reject Shen Xiaoting?
So, you give in to the voice. Let it control you and raise your hand to her right thigh. You squeeze in time with Lee’s thrusts into her mouth. Her lower body lifts off the bed, but you pin her down again anyway. As revenge, her thighs curl around your head and keep you locked to her center. But it can’t be revenge when you relish it, can it?
“Fuck, her mouth is so fucking good,” Lee groans. His balls hit Xiaoting right in her pretty face, and she makes sure to dedicate at least a few licks to fuel his lust. “Told you this vacation was gonna be good. Getting a pretty girl to use.”
What are you even supposed to say to that? Your fears get the best of you again. You’re afraid to sound off to Xiaoting if you say the wrong word. Her pretty cunt just addles your brain that no words can be formed. They translate into actions, like pulling your lips away from her pussy and rubbing at her clit.
“Hnnnn!” Xiaoting cries. Her hips gyrate, and it’s your job again to keep her on the bed. You can’t do anything about the wet sheets, though. You can’t stop Xiaoting’s violent squirting as your rubbing at her core grows more frequent and harsh.
Lee pulls out of her mouth. A rain of white damages her face, but it’s the very storm in which she screams to the fullest. She’s tapping out, unable to handle the furious flicks at her clit. She barely has the strength to lift herself up, but she tries anyway for the purpose of seeing how her squirt flashes out from under her engorged clit, where you thumb and lick energetically. 
“Fuck, fuck, I can’t!” she says, eyes not bothering to open anymore. “Please make me cum more, I can’t take it!”
Her words contrast each other, but you take the initiative to avoid stopping. You slip two fingers inside her to fill her desperate pussy and place your lips on her nub. Your rhythms are mismatched, but they’re perfect enough to make Xiaoting’s toes curl. 
“Look at these pretty tits,” Lee says. He comes up from behind Xiaoting to wrap his hands fully around her small, painted chest. Pinching her nipples, he kisses her neck. “So perfect. You like this, Xiaoting?”
What other answer is truthful except for the whiny, shouted “Yes!” she replies? 
Xiaoting leans back into his chest and kisses him. While Lee toys with her sensitive nipples as she screams and begs, you suck her clit harshly. It pulses between your lips. Although it’s clear you’re draining her, stopping is an impossibility. You’re high on Xiaoting, and you want to do everything but come down.
“Cum— cumming, cumming so hard!” she mumbles. Lee’s kisses on her neck rake up her sensitivity. “Please make me cum, gonna cum again, too much, please!”
As she promised, your mouth is filled again with her sweet nectar. You could live on it; you could have Xiaoting sit on your face each day for her cum to heal your shortcomings as if you were a god. But you decide that’s enough for now, and sighs heavily in relief. She relies on your friend’s chest to keep herself up.
“Y-you eat me so well,” she says appreciatively. “You’re so good.”
Your blush is almost as red as her hair. “Thanks, I guess,” you respond bashfully. 
“Hey, didn’t I fuck your mouth good, too?” Lee asks. He’s a little jealous hearing you get praised instead of him. Xiaoting is one of his heroes, that being the reason why he wants her approval, too. 
Xiaoting, suddenly full of energy, sits up straight and taps her chin. “I don't know, can your dick even fill me properly?”
You raise your brows. It’s a solid reminder that you and Lee may have spent all night ruining her body, but she still is the puppeteer. Her status, wants, and pretty face drag you around like strings, having you do whatever she wants you to do. She’s just insanely good at making it seem that you could do whatever to her. If she weren’t an idol, she could have been an actress.
“Oh yeah?” Lee sits up, too, and tries to hide the offense in his face. 
Xiaoting meets his gaze, unfaltering. “You heard me.”
“Alright then, I’ll fill you up,” he offers. He rises from the bed and stands with you. “He’ll fuck your mouth. Call it a spitroast, then we’ll see who’s better.”
Xiaoting’s eyes sparkle. He really doesn’t have a clue, does he? But he’s cute, and as much as she’d climb heights to avoid admitting it, he has a big cock. She can't wait for it to fill her up.
Excitement grips her skin as Lee pulls her up and bends her over the bed. His cock teases her hole. You take your place in front of Xiaoting. 
The first spank resounds. She winces, but she's biting her lip. You can see every lewd expression she makes with your position before her. You slap your cock on her cheek, and she moans delightfully. 
"That feels so good," she says, through ragged breaths. She runs a hand through her Ariel hair and smiles. Her grin glints with charm. "Come on, boys. Use me. You can do that for me, can't you? And—fuck."
Her pussy, still sensitive, reels helplessly. Lee has his cock penetrating her thighs, nudging her clit. It isn't even the real thing but she's already so weak. 
"Your thighs are amazing, Xiaoting," he tells her. 
"I know. Fuck them all you want, but don't forget to fill me up. You," she looks up at you and smirks, a fatal attack to your poor heart, "blow a big load in my mouth, okay?"
You nod. You brush your cockhead on her soft lips, then slowly enter her mouth. It's still as good as the first time, for her tongue knows how to work wonders on your length. She's all wet and hot, and although you envy Lee for having the chance to fuck her pussy, you think that this is good for now.
You and Lee pump into Xiaoting quickly. Both of her holes are incredibly wet. While her slick walls contract and hold on to his cock, her warm mouth moistens your length with sheen-coated pleasure. You're both knocking into her body, feeling her all over the place—her small bouncing tits, the ripples of her perfect ass, her wide hips; no place is left untouched. 
And, despite the violence of the intercourse as you fuck Xiaoting on both ends, she likes it. 
She doesn’t need to bob her head anymore to let your girth into her tight throat; Lee’s harsh thrusts from behind drive her mouth to swallow more of you. You’ve got your fingers in her hair, gathering them in one tight tail, so that there won’t be hindrance in facefucking her. So far, her face is the most perfect thing to fuck. Your hand, though a familiar dream, can’t compare to the way her eyes sparkle when her gaze meets yours, or the hollowing of her cheeks when she dares to push her limits. 
Or maybe she’s just that pretty.
“Too much for you now, Xiaoting?” Lee asks. He’s gripping the soft cheeks of her bubble butt then teasing the puckered hole. 
“You wish,” Xiaoting says, pulling away from your cock and jacking it off. You can’t really see her when she turns her head to your friend, but you can just tell that she’s got on the most bratty expression. Even her words alone can entice Lee to fuck the brat out of her.
“What about now?”
Xiaoting shimmies away after he slips a finger inside her tight asshole. Desperate not to show her vulnerability, she places her mouth on your cock again. Her moans reverberate and create breathy pleasure on your length, and you start to fuck her harder. You know she’s enjoying it; her face never shows anything other than bliss, and her moans increase despite her filled mouth. 
All her holes are filled, and it’s going further than she’s ever dreamed of. Your touch is everywhere, and she tries to sink into it wherever it goes, but it keeps roaming. She can’t keep up with the thumb on her clit. Or the fingers spreading her virginal ass. Or your cock defiling her mouth. Or—
“More, f-fuck!” 
The suction of her pretty lips increases. Xiaoting’s eyes are squeezed shut. The room fills with screams and she clenches down so hard that Lee fills her insides earlier than he’d like. 
“Holy shit, that’s it, Xiaoting,” he says. His groans almost match her screams. “Fucking cum all over this cock.”
Their cum mixes together, a lewd liquid that drips down the thighs he fucked earlier. Her moans are strained cries, ones you muffle with a few remaining thrusts. She counts your thrusts just like she did whenever she dances at the practice room, timing her licks with them. More witness dribbles down her skin at your moans, and she evokes more out of you as she swallows your complete length all in one go. Restricted by the closeness of her throat, you’ve no choice but to cum inside her mouth. 
“Xiao– Xiaoting…” You’ve lost all control over balance and logic. You sit back down heavily on the edge of the bed and try to keep up with your breath.
Xiaoting licks your cockhead one last time. She laughs when it twitches. Her lips are lined with white, hot cum. “You don’t talk much,” she says, then, as she pointedly looks at Lee, continues, “but you’re really cute.”
“That’s it.” Lee’s a jealous guy. He ’t take the poorly veiled method Xiaoting’s too good at: riling him up. He doesn’t let envy take hold of what he does, but now, lust has corrupted his mind. He was too turned on by the sight of Xiaoting’s perfect back curving with his thrusts, at the sloppy sounds of her blowjob. Everything about her oozes of sex, which is what he’s happy to do to her.
He throws her on the bed again. The soft landing doesn’t save the bounce of her ass, nor does it take away the pleasurable pain of Lee spreading her legs. Lee’s face is flushed with lust and jealousy. He takes it all out in slapping the puffy cunt the best he can. 
Xiaoting cries out with satisfaction when he spanks her cunt, even parking her crotch further into his hand. “Fuck, yes, keep doing that!” 
“Brat,” Lee spits. You’re silent, but you secretly agree with him, too. Xiaoting’s a bigger brat than she poses herself as.
“Alright,” she says. Raised brows, upturned smile, she quips: “Then fuck me like one.”
She isn’t denying it or anything, but she is running away from the consequences of being one. She’s gauging the reaction she wants from the two of you, making it seem like it’s the perfect thing to do to put her in her place when she’s only rising above. She seems to love the reaction Lee makes:
“I’ll go for her ass,” he says, pulling her into his lap. As he does, his cock slips inside the ringed hole. Xiaoting’s cracked gasp fills your ears. “You can have a turn on her bratty cunt.”
More sounds of lewdness and pleasure spill from her pretty mouth when Lee pushes his fingers inside her pussy and spreads the walls apart. You watch, with strange hooked fascination, as Xiaoting writhes at Lee scissoring his fingers inside her. Cum ribbons his fingers, but he keeps going, determined to batter Xiaoting down into a desperate passive. You’d say it’s working, for what it’s worth.
“Hnnn, so hot, I can’t—!” She looks down at her fingerfucked pussy and hisses. “Haah, fffuck, please don’t stop!”
Lee doesn’t stop for a while. He continues fucking her pussy with his digitis until she squirts. All the while her voice reaches new pitches. He ends with slapping her crotch over and over, wetting his hands with her liquid.
“Oh, oh god, so good!” she screams. You squeeze her taut nipples and rub your cockhead on her clit. “Keep doing that, I’m ‘bout to cum so hard!”
“Again?” you ask. She looks up at you, surprised you’re speaking, but her gaze breaks at your cock filling her entrance up. “You’re a little cumslut, aren’t you? It’s all you ever want to do: cum all over cock.”
Despite her surprise, she nods. It’s true, anyway, so what’s the point in denying it? And there’s really not much time to put up a fight when the two of you are filling both of her holes. 
Her ass aches, but Lee’s in heaven—her tight little asshole is heaven itself. The cum and wetness from her pussy serve as good lubricant to slide in and out of her, to spread and slap her bouncing cheeks. You’re in heaven, too, despite the sin you make of thrusting into Xiaoting’s silken cunt like it depends on your life. At times, you pull out to rub your cock on her lips, enjoying the puffed texture of it and the whine of need she makes.
Kisses are everywhere. You pepper Xiaoting’s lips with them, too engaged with how soft her lips are to regard the fact that your friend’s literal cock has been there, and Lee kisses her arms. You’re both keen on ruining all of her body, and that involves marking her as your own. For this night, anyway, but the night is still young; while it lasts, you might as well up the tempo of your thrusts and grope her body as much as you like.
You find that the parts of her form that you appreciate the most are her face, thighs, and pussy. You loved to paint her pretty face with your load, corrupting the innocence it exudes. You relish thinking, too, of how her thighs served as earmuffs around your head and almost crushed you with how full and muscular they are. Plus, her pussy’s so perfect, so tight that you don’t think you’d want any other. It clenches and grips with every thrust, sends her hands flying to the sheets and on the side of Lee’s face.
Shen Xiaoting’s insatiable. 
“So fucking big inside me!” she’s screaming, grabbing your ass so you’re compelled to ram deeper. Her eyes are wide, and her breaths barely come out anymore.  “Fuck my little pussy with that big cock, please, da—”
Lee vents his anger out on her clit. He abuses it with firm, circular rubs that make Xiaoting’s hips twitch into your cock. There’s truly no escape from the pleasure—there’s her ass filled repeatedly, and the violent thrusts in her cunt. Now, there’s the pinching of her nipples and the rubs on her clit to deal with. She could scream and crawl and whine, but mercy isn’t in the dictionary for tonight. She’s going to be fucked hard, just the way she wanted, and she’ll have to cope with it one way or another.
You part her legs as far as they could go. You’re impressed at how flexible she is; her years as a dancer have certainly brought good fruit. With this position you’re able to hold her thighs as much as you want while fucking her cunt deeper. Lee’s given the chance to bounce her ass on him with no trouble. Lastly, Xiaoting’s put in a state of bliss—to the front, she’s filled and from the back, she is, too, and she doesn’t think she could hold on much longer. There’s too many things going on: her nipples being toyed with and squeezed, her thighs being spanked, her clit being assaulted. She’s so close to another orgasm that, like the others, have gone uncounted.
It’s messy when she cums. The whole thing has been fluids upon skin and skin upon fluids, but this one in particular is plentiful. IHer cum spurts everywhere in a profane splash right into your and on the sheets. She’s screaming, too, a bunch of words that can’t be deciphered properly. It sends off the right message, anyway: she’s cumming more.
You quickly move over to Xiaoting’s nipples when you feel your climax approaching. It’s induced by curiosity, and it gets the better of you; swipe your tip side to side on her small, perky nipples. The new sensation is strange, but it sets a flame of pleasure on your length. Xiaoting moans, guiding her breast to your cockhead, and chewing on Lee’s bottom lip. 
Eventually, the stamina subsides, and all three of you collapse on the bed. No word is exchanged for a long time.
-
“You,” says Yujin menacingly, pointing accusingly at Xiaoting with a single index finger with utmost anger on her face, “are in so much trouble.”
Xiaoting wipes her hair down with a towel. It was difficult to shower when her legs could barely hold her up, but it’s done now. She has nothing to worry about. Technically, there is more to worry about: Yujin’s discovered what secret she’s been hiding, and she’s furious. But, to her surprise, she isn’t pent up about it. If anything, she’s rather proud.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she replies. A white lie for a dark sin is still not counted, right?
“I… I saw you,” Yujin goes on. She’s walking around with Xiaoting as the younger girl paces in the room. “I saw you get out with those two guys!”
“And why would you assume anything happened?”
“Because there’s fucking cum on the floor, Xiaoting!” 
"Well." Xiaoting raises her hands in the air and sits down on the bed. "A girl’s gotta have fun.”
-
Unknown Number sent a message:
Hey ;)
If you want to do that again
You know where to call me
I’ll be waiting </3
708 notes · View notes
mildangzz · 7 months
Text
camboy!jungwon
au where your sweet and cute co-worker has a side to him no one knows!!
warnings (?) - profanity, nsfw
>> this is gonna suck so bad because i haven’t written in forever!! sorry
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“And that concludes today’s meeting, now get out.”
Everyone chuckles as your team leader waves his hand towards the door, everyone standing from their seats and gathering their things to leave. You stay in your spot for a minute or two, looking over the notes you made on your laptop. As secretary of one of the largest companies, it’s crucial that you keep note of absolutely everything that was talked about in meetings, organizing the next one and letting your team leader know when the next meeting was. It was quite taxing work, but it was all worth it since you were paid good. You were able to pay for anything you wanted, not having to worry about anything.
After a few minutes you finally get up and gather your things, turning on your heel quickly when you suddenly bump into someone who was watching over you.
“Ah, I’m so sorr-“ Your breath hitched when you realized who it was. Yang Jungwon. He was an intern at the office, being there for a couple months. He’s only been there for such little time yet nearly everyone was interested in him.
The day Jungwon entered the office was like no other: You enter the elevator, greet some co-workers and press the button to head to the floor you worked at. As you were scrolling through your phone, you heard small whispers behind you, barely making out “Really?” “Yes! He’s so hot too!” until the elevator opened. You exited and started heading to the break room for coffee when you see a new figure sitting by the table, legs crossed reading documents with a coffee in hand. You eyed him for a second, gulping when you noticed he was staring at you. He put the papers down and stood up to greet you, a bright smile appearing on his face as he walked up to you. You both introduced yourselves to each other, telling him to ask you for help if he needed any and to not be nervous at all. He let out soft giggles as he nodded, making his way back to his seat. Well, he sure was cute.
“Miss Y/N?”
You flinched as you looked up at him, smiling. How long were you lost in your thoughts for you don’t know, but Jungwon was closer to you than you remember. “Ah- Sorry, I dozed off for a second there.” You quickly exited the room and head towards your office, sighing out loud. He watched you as you left, slightly frowning at how sudden you left.
If you were being truly honest, he was just your type: pretty, nice, cute men who didn’t try too hard to be something they were not. After your first encounter with him, you found yourself staring at him during meetings, peeking through the break room window in hopes that he was there so you could talk to him. Well, he might be a permanent employee and you need to get along with your co-workers to be able to get work done, right?
Wrong! What started out as the smallest bit of interest turned into full on desire. You would find yourself fantasizing about him during your lunch break, thinking about how nice it’d feel to dig your nails into those broad shoulders of his, scratching his back as he fucked you like there was no tomorrow, crying out his name for more and more-
*Ring! Ring!*
Refocusing, you whine at the wetness you feel in your panties, your pussy throbbing at whatever you were imagining just now. You grab your phone and answer as you leave the office, finally heading home to “relax.”
You throw your bag and shoes on the floor, heading straight to your room when you realize what time it was. You glance at your clock and start up your computer. 11:57pm. Cursing at yourself, you quickly go to your favorite website, exhaling when you see “Stream Starting Soon!” on the screen.
Fantasizing about Jungwon has made you hornier more often than you’d like to admit, needing something more, not just the dildo or vibrator you had shoved in your drawer. So one night, you decided to search up some porn to help relieve yourself at least a little bit when you came upon an… interesting website. You click on the link and see multiple people on live, some being fucked into senseless, others fucking themselves with their toys or massaging their bodies for the camera. It didn’t seem that interesting until you saw the thumbnail for one. His body seemed perfect to you, so you clicked on it to see what he was doing. You ended up watching the entire stream, fingering yourself and cumming a couple times to the random figure on the screen. You pant as you type in the chat That was fucking amazing, sending some money as a thank you. You heard him chuckle and blow a kiss to the mic, that beautiful smile of his showing. “Such a big tip for just jerking myself on cam? What a pathetic whore.” He leaned back into the chair, head leaned back to show his adam’s apple and impecable jawline.
That wasn’t the only time you visited his stream. It became a daily thing — rushing home to log on and wait for the live to start, heart beating quickly as the familiar figure appears on screen, speaking directly to you whenever you sent him a tip.
Today was no different, you being the first to join the stream and sending a tip right away, him smiling once he saw you. “My favorite slut is here already? You’re always the first to join, sending me the biggest tips out of everyone, always thanking me. You’ve got manners, I love well-behaved whores.” You get so so wet at his words, pulling up your skirt as you start rubbing small circles on your clothed pussy, bitting onto your shirt.
He leans towards the camera, whispering into the mic, “What if I showed you just how thankful I am, princess?” He leaned back again, rubbing himself over his joggers as he groans softly. You moan out loud, slipping one finger in as you put your free hand on the keyboard.
> Please fuck me. I’ll do anything you want me to do.
He scoffs, tilting his head to the side. “Anything? You’re so fucking desperate, you know that? Fucking begging for my cock like that, are you not ashamed of yourself? What a whore, letting everyone watching this know how desperate you are.” You whine at his words, inserting another finger as he pulls down his pants, his cock standing erect as pre-cum leaks from the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight, pussy clenching over nothing.
> I don’t care, please just fuck me. I’ll be good, I swear.
He groans slightly, fucking into his hand harder as he pants. “Oh yeah? You want me to fuck into that pretty little cunt of yours? Want me to use you like my personal toy? I’ll fuck you until you can’t form a single thought, until all you can do is moan my name. Pretty little thing like you would fucking love that, yeah?”
You whine and grab your dildo, inserting it into your pussy quickly, slightly bouncing on your chair as you lean towards the screen. “Yes yes yes yes-“ You drool as the sight of him tensing up and moaning to the camera, closing your eyes as you imagine him pushing you over your office desk, ripping your skirt off and sliding his pants and boxers down. Inserting himself into you quickly, not bothering to let you adjust to his size as he rails into you, holding your hips tightly with one hand and the other holding your neck, pushing you deeper into the desk. The whole idea was enough to push you over the edge, cumming over your hand with a loud whine.
You look at the screen just in time to see him cum as well, the white liquid covering his lower-half and his hands. You send him a big tip again, reaching for some napkins to clean yourself up.
“Ah, that felt so good. Thank you for the big tip again, princess.” He sent a flying kiss to the camera, panting as he cleaned himself up quickly.
It’s a bit late at this point, feeling relaxed and exhausted, being unable to think straight. So what did you decide to do? Text Yang Jungwon of course!!
You reach for your phone, opening a message for him and taking a picture of yourself to send to him. He has to be a least a little bit interested in you, right? With the way he touched you, stared at you, smiled at you… There’s nothing wrong in trying, right?
*Ding!*
You look up at the screen, seeing him grab his phone to see what notification he received when he groans. He chuckles and shows the camera a picture he received, making sure to hide your face and anything identifiable. He starts slowly stroking himself again, zooming into the picture. “She can’t be serious, sending me something like that… If she knew how badly I wanted to fucking ruin her, fuck into her ‘til she can’t walk the next day at work, have my cum dripping down her thighs…”
You stayed frozen the entire time, not fully processing that what he showed was your picture. The picture you sent to Yang Jungwon. Your brain short circuits as you see him type on his phone, whining as he puts his phone down.
Just then you get a notification. You check it quickly and see;
> Miss Y/N? Are you sure that was meant for me? Haha… ^^
You take a picture of your screen, making sure to show your username and send it to him.
> You said you’ll fuck into me until I can’t walk at work, no?
Your heartbeat fastens as you watch him pick up the phone again, smirking and facing the camera as he quickly ends the stream.
*Ding!*
> Send me your address. Be there in ten.
522 notes · View notes
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Dirty Work 32
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Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as bullying, familial discord/abuse, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You start a new gig and find one of your clients to be hard to please.
Characters: Loki
Note: Well, this escalated in a way I didn't plan.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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Mr. Laufeyson’s voice is a low drone. You can hear his curt tone as he comes through the front door. His slither is met by a booming timbre that makes you jump. Thor speaks loudly, enough for some of his words to thunder through the walls that divide you.
Your ears pulse as you try not to listen. You know you shouldn’t. By Laufeyson’s reaction alone, you know his brother is less than welcome. Thor’s presence brings you little peace yourself as the memory of his creeping touch crawls up your spine.
You sit behind the laptop and try to focus on the screen. If you can distract yourself, it will be over soon enough and Thor will be gone. Maybe then, you can figure out why Mr. Laufeyson has turned to ice.
“...is she?” The two words echo and jar you from your failing battle.
Laufeyson’s response is short and sharp. You fill in the blanks of his deflection; ‘none of your concern’.
“...busy cleaning up your messes, eh?” Thor’s taunting question rolls upwards as footsteps hammer up the stairs, stopped halfway as another pair shuffle after them.
“I did not welcome you in,” Laufeyson is clearer now. You assume they are on the staircase with how their voices waft airily.
“Always the gracious host,” Thor counters.
“Do not lecture me on grace. Say what you’ve come to say and go. I’m busy–”
“Oh, yes, if I had a little maid like that, I’d always be busy as well–”
“Get on with it,” Laufeyson snarls.
Thor laughs heartily, “brother, one day you will see we are more alike than you care to accept. Maybe then you would see that it is the crux of our problems. You might even appreciate our shared tastes–”
“If you’ve only come to ramble, I’m not interested. I’ve spent enough time entertaining you lot–”
“You speak as if we are enemies,” Thor accuses, “you cannot waste time on family.”
“Ah, because kinship has always been sacred in your heart,” Laufeyson scoffs, “you are like a storm, you bluster but only make a mess. Say what you came to say and leave me be. I’ve work to do. Real work.”
“Well, if I am to deliver my message, I think both recipients should receive it, don’t you?”
“Say it,” Laufeyson hisses.
“But it is meant for both of you. The little maid as well–”
You sit up straight and tweak your head. You shouldn’t listen but you’re caught now. You cannot keep from overhearing.
“House manager,” Laufeyson girds, “I’m certain I can efficiently communicate whatever nonsense has drawn you here.”
“And they say I am stubborn,” Thor snorts, “Walpurgisnacht.”
“Walpurgisnacht?” Laufeyson echoes the single word.
“Surely you recall the old ways.”
“Don’t,” Laufeyson warns.
“Mother is having a celebration. Like when we were young. Father’s agreed to it.”
“She didn’t mention.”
“Ah, yes, well, you’ve much going on. She sent me to inquire after the little maid– house manager. She would require help with arranging the festivities.” Thor explains, “oh, and you’re invited too, I suppose.”
“She has her staff, does she not?”
“Frida is too old. She only serves tea and Gertrude’s never been very strong-minded. Mother needs input, not an empty vessel.”
“Charming,” Laufeyson remarks, "well, I will consider it. Next time, tell mother to call.”
“There will be many old faces. Many may even be happy to see you,” Thor goads.
“I wouldn’t expect so,” Laufeyson retorts, “must I ask you to leave anon?”
Another rolling guffaw fills the house. You hear a grunt from Laufeyson and a muted thump. Thor quiets with a sigh, “ah, fine, fine, I shall leave you to your little– house manager. You will tell her I say hello.”
Silence roils through the air. A scuff cuts through the tension and footfalls clamour down the stairs. The front door opens and closes, leaving you to wallow in the dark cloud left behind. Mr. Laufeyson’s long exhale blows up the staircase ahead of him and you listen to his approach.
You look at the door, expecting him to come through any moment. But it isn’t that one he opens. It’s the study door that slams with a terrible force. His growl permeates through and the adjoined door clicks as the lock is flicked into place. You stare at it and frown.
You don’t suppose his mood will thaw any time soon.
Mr. Laufeyson does not emerge for supper. You barely eat anything yourself as anxiety tortures your stomach. You clean up after yourself and retreat upstairs. 
You near the study, lingering before the door as you pluck up your courage. You tap softly on the wood. There’s no answer. You didn’t hear him go but maybe you missed it.
“I made dinner, Mr. Laufeyson. I’ve left you a plate in the oven,” you speak through the wood, to the ghost on the other side.
You traipse away in defeat. You’re entirely confused. What did you do so wrong? Even before his brother’s unprompted visit, Mr. Laufeyson was coolly apathetic. Yet that morning, in the shower, he’d been on fire, consuming you like flames.
Maybe you’re not good enough. Maybe you didn’t kiss him just right or make the noises he liked. Oh, but how are you supposed to know what to do?
You sit at the writing desk and tap your fingers on your chin. You squirm in your chair as the scene in the shower replays in your head. You tear it apart, trying to pick out the exact moment of your offense.
You shift on the seat and the throbbing pressure in your core ripples through you. Just the thought of his touch has you alight. You touch your hot cheeks and flutter your lashes. You shouldn’t be worried about all that, you should be working on that spread sheet.
You glance over at the study door. The house is stagnant once more. Just like those early days when you made your slow progress with a broom and mop. Something’s gone terribly wrong. Maybe… you should just leave.
You put your fingers mindlessly to the touch pad of the computer. You swirl around the cursor mindlessly. You blow out through your lips and sit up, another fraught peek towards the door.
You bring both your hands over the keyboard. No, you shouldn’t. 
You need to figure this out. You need to know what you did, or didn’t do. You can be what he wants you to be, you have to. You have nothing else.
You type, then backspace, then type again. After several times, you hit search. You click through to a site with a black background and gasp at the obscene ads that fill the margins. 
You bite down as you try to focus past the small thumbnails. You key into the search bar ‘shower’. You hover your finger over the enter key before you will yourself to hit it.
The search results are just as chaotic. You don’t know what you’re looking for. ‘Best Shower Scenes STEAMY’. Your insides tickle and you squeeze your thighs together. Invisible flames lick at you and cluster in your chest.
You mute the computer as the video loads. The house is so quiet that you’re aware of every creak and crack. You fidget as you sit through the ad of a woman giggling over a URL for meet-ups. You press your hands to your thigh, sitting forward so your weight rests on your pelvis, dampening the tingly heat.
The video begins. A woman with caramel coloured hair and a curvy body. You admire her figure and peer down at your own. Maybe that’s it, maybe you’re not hot enough? You remember how Mr. Laufeyson touched you all over, almost as if he was examining you. Did you disappoint?
You flick your eyes back up as a man enters and they step into the shower booth. You chew your lip as you fixate on his large dick. He’s very big but you think Mr. Laufeyson is too. You’re not sure. This isn’t helping, you still don’t understand anything.
They kiss and fondle each other. You lean forward, watching with a stitch between your brows. The woman drags her hands down the man’s body and gets to your knees. She pumps him with her hand and licks his tip, dragging her tongue down his length. He grabs her head and forces himself into her mouth.
She takes him greedily. Oh. That could be it. Last night, you were so afraid, and you got all teary, and you didn’t know what you were doing. 
You watch her as she touches his sack, squeezing then works her hand in tandem with her mouth on his dick. You put your hand to the side of your neck and hold your breath. You wiggle on the chair, the friction making your own arousal more obvious.
Finally, the woman stands, the man lifting her by her hair. He spins her and bends her forward. She braces the wall and as he slaps her ass several times before gripping her hip. He’s so rough. You don’t know if you could handle that.
He slides into her and your mouth falls open. Her thighs quake and your own give a tremble. Your walls clench as the pressure knots in you. The thought of doing that with Mr. Laufeyson both frightens you and excites you.
You twiddle your fingers and blink at the screen. The furrow in your forehead deepens as you lean forward. You put your fingers along the touchpad but don’t press them down.
“Ahem,” Mr. Laufeyson startles you as he clears his throat.
You sit up and quickly hit the X in the corner. Your throat closes as you struggle to breathe, caught but not entirely. He stands in the doorway between the study and library. From that angle, he can’t see what’s on your screen.
“You are working hard,” he muses as he strides in with crossed arms.
“Yes, sir,” you answer breathily. You stare him in the face, too afraid to look anywhere else as your mind dares to imagine the shower again, both of you naked, this time, you’re bent over and he’s behind you. “Um, did you get your dinner?”
You close the laptop as you stand. You wince as the fabric of your panties clings to your wet cunt. You feel like he can see right through you.
“I’m not hungry,” he stops on the other side of the desk.
“Okay,” you swallow and your eyes flit side to side.
“I never told you to come out,” he drops his arms, placing his hand on the desk as he leans over it.
“Pardon?” You blink furiously.
“I said to remain in here until I told you it was safe. If you made my dinner, then you did not obey me.”
“I… Mr. Laufeyson, your brother’s gone–”
“And how could you know for sure if I did not confirm it?” He challenges with a wry tilt in his head. “I’ve been patient, pet, but I think you may require a different sort of discipline.”
“Mr. Laufeyson?” You babble, “I’m sorry–”
“Your apologies grow tiresome,” he huffs and stands straight. “Come here,” he points between him and the desk.
You put your head down and swiftly walk around the desk. He swirls his finger in the air and you turn your back to him. He backs away and rounds to the side of the desk.
“Hands down,” he nods to the desktop.
You press your palms flat, bent slightly at the waist. He considers you and strokes his chin with a hum. He circles the desk and you in a single, patient lap.
“Stay as you are.”
“Yes, Mr. Laufeyson,” you utter.
“Ah, no talking,” he warns, “remember your rules, pet.”
You gulp as he turns and struts away. Is it okay again? You can’t tell. He’s still rigid and painfully formal. He hasn’t touched you, he seems to be avoiding getting close. You stare at the wood beneath your hands and shiver.
You hear him in his study. You glance over as he appears in the door frame, his hands hidden behind him. He tuts. “Head forward.”
You look ahead and focus on the wall. He nears, his shadow skewed in the lamplight. He stands behind you, a foot away and he hums. He clucks and strolls around the desk to face you.
He pulls his hands from behind his back, revealing a thick leather strap. The brown leather is faded and cracked. Your eyes round as you stare at it and he brings it taught between his hands.
“Flogging is historically a long held practice. For the monk in his self-flagellation, for the heathen in his cell, and… for the woman in her disobedience,” he explains as his lips curl. “Spare the rod, spoil the child…” He takes a breath, “and you, pet, are growing spoiled.”
Your lips part but you don’t speak. You must follow the rules. This is the test. If you fail this, then it’s over. If you fail, you have nothing.
He walks along the desk and rounds the corner, brushing by as he purrs, “remember your rules. Not a sound.”
He comes up behind you and you hold your breath. He tugs at the back of your skirt and shudders. He pulls the fabric above your ass, his hand trailing along the back of your panties. He hooks his finger in the elastic and tears them down to your thighs. You quiver and clench your jaw tight, fighting back a squeak.
He stretches the leather across your ass. It’s cool and smooth. You twitch as bumps rise across your skin. He pulls back and you lower your head. You wait. Nothing. 
You cautiously raise your chin and look back. He snaps the whip across your ass as you do and you spasm with the hot flash of pain. He points to the wall in a wordless demand. Eye forward. You turn your attention back to the grey blue paint as your eyes glisten. He strikes you again, the agony scalding across the swell of your ass.
Your thighs shake as he pulls back again. You await a third but it never comes. You don’t dare move. He paces behind you. You watch his shadow cast before you and he moves abruptly forward. You bite your tongue as he lashes you again. Harder as he lets out a thick grunt.
Your hands slip and you fall forward. You plant your palms more firmly as you push yourself straight. A fourth comes and sends tendrils down to your toes. You hiss through your teeth, quaking, fighting not to collapse.
You deserve this. Whatever you’ve done, you’ve earned this. 
A fifth and your knees knock together. You barely keep afoot as the sixth lands with extra bite. Seven, eight, nine… He lashes you in quick succession, as if he cannot stop himself. The tenth has you heaving, about to vomit with the pain.
He stops himself, his shadow holding up the stap. He lowers it and steps back. He sighs and turns away.
“Tomorrow you will pack for our departure,” he declares, “we leave on Friday.”
We? So you are to go with him. You don’t dare ask or say a single word. You stay as you are, shaking as you roll your eyes back against the flood.
“You will be on your best behaviour,” he warns as he nears the study door, “I trust this lesson will not be forgotten.”
He passes into the study and the door closes harshly. Your legs fold and collapse beneath you. You land in a heap, holding yourself off your ass as you whimper. You won’t ever forget.
203 notes · View notes
neymarsangel · 9 months
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Pushover - Joao Felix x reader
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Joao Felix x female!reader
Summary: The anger started when Joao overheard you and Mason discussing his relationship. The brunette tells you he hates you with every fibre of his being but a run-in with your ex during a match suggests something else. After another argument, he corners you in the bathrooms at the end-of-season awards to show you his true feelings.
Warnings: Cheating (ish), smut, unprotected (please wrap before you tap it), angst, swearing
Word Count: 5.3K
To put it plainly, Joao Felix was a pushover and it wasn’t just you who saw it, the whole Chelsea team did. Everyone had heard the rumours about him and his girlfriend, she’d cheated on him multiple times and yet he still forgave her, again and again… and again. He wasn’t exactly hard to look at either so you really couldn’t work out why he didn’t just dump her, anyone who was cheated on deserved better, especially Joao. 
Working for Chelsea’s media team meant you saw hundreds of women come and go when it came to the lads, some you missed and others you didn’t. But even if you liked the girls or you didn’t, you always supported the boys. After all, they were like family to you, a dysfunctional one sure, but a family.  
“I still can’t see why he’s with her…” Mason flashed Joao girlfriends Instagram your way. The pair of you sat at lunch together, he was busy stalking whereas you were attempting to meet a deadline. Glancing over you caught sight of his phone screen. 
“I would say money but he’s fine in that department.” You replied, not caring about those around you who might pry an ear into your words. “Maybe he’s lonely.” Your eyes never left your laptop as you continued to work. 
“Considering he spends most of his time with us I think he’s fine there.” Mason spared you a glance. 
“Any of you ever spoken to him about it?” You asked, your eyes now looking at his phone. “Maybe that’ll sway his mind.” 
“Maybe you could talk to him.” 
“Why would I do that?” 
“Maybe he needs a new woman to catch his eye.” Your eyes met Mason’s as he sent you a suggestive glance. 
“I’d rather not.” Your eyes darted back to your laptop screen. 
“Why not?”
“Because I don’t date pushovers.” As you finished speaking a sudden slam on the table caught your and his attention. Joao was standing before you his face smoothed with rage as he slumped down into the chair opposite you. His eyes burned holes into your skin as he spoke. 
“What are you working on?” He asked as if he hadn’t heard your entire conversation with Mason. 
“Just a graphic for the game against Liverpool in a few days…” Your eyes were glued to his, you wanted to rip them away from his gaze but you were stuck like a deer in headlights. 
“Hmm… are you planning to meet your ex after the game?” You nearly choked on his words. 
You’d had what those would describe as a summer fling when he was at the England camp and you’d been asked to cover some work due to having minimal at Chelsea because of the summer break. It wasn’t a relationship, you wouldn’t even consider him an ex-boyfriend more just someone you used to sleep with. Only a few of the lads knew about it, Mason and Ben being the main two you’d told after you and Trent decided a relationship wasn’t in the cards for you. 
Your glared at Mason who was now trying to hide himself behind his phone screen. “Did you tell him?” 
“It may have slipped out… but it wasn’t just me! Ben was speaking about it too!”
You pulled your eyes away from Mason to focus back on Joao. “He isn’t my ex and my love life doesn’t concern you-”
“But mine concerns you.” He had a point. Could you really tell him he had no right to question you when you and Mason were spending your lunch discussing his love life? 
“If anything we’re looking out for you.”
“By implying that I’m a pushover?” 
“Her words, not mine!” Mason raised his hands in defence. 
“Well, you do keep going back to someone whose favourite hobby is to publicly cheat on you.” You stepped in. 
“At least someone wants me enough to be in a relationship, Trent clearly didn’t want you around.” 
“Your girlfriend cheats on you if that’s what ‘wanted’ means I’d rather be alone.” 
“She does have a point.” Mason looked between the two of you. “Look mate we just want the best for you -”
“You might be she doesn’t!” Joao looked at Mason as he spoke. “Ever since I joined she’s had it out for me!”
“That isn’t true!” You defended yourself, your tone turning sour. 
“My first game and you couldn’t stop talking shit about me!”
“You got sent off in your first match meaning you couldn’t play for weeks! This season has been shit for Chelsea and the man they thought would be their knight in shining armour embarrassed them all!” 
“We all make mistakes y/n, clearly you made one with Trent. Maybe if he wanted you, you wouldn’t be moping around with an ‘embarrassing team’.” He smirked at his words, something you couldn’t believe he even had the balls to do after looking at the state of his situation. Before you could even reply Joao grabbed the last of his lunch and stormed out of the lunch hall. 
“Well…” Mason watched as Joao left. “That went well.” 
“Why did you tell him about me and Trent?” Your brow arched as you spoke to the brunette. 
“Look I’m sorry y/n, it just came out during training. You know I like to give Trent a hard time when we play after what happened between the two of you, I know you liked him too.” Mason gave you a sympathetic look as you tore your gaze away from him. 
Mason had a point, part of you did wish it had worked out with Trent. Over the summer you’d spent every single day with one another and he treated you like you were his girlfriend. He showed you off to the guys and you’d even met his family but only days after the two of you had left the England summer camp he was pictured with another girl outside a club. Any hope you had of the two of you ever picking things back up was shattered the second you saw that photo. Mason and Ben were the only two who knew your feelings towards him but little did you know the two of them had let your true feelings slip to Joao. 
You found yourself nearly missing the team bus to Liverpool. You clambered on just in time only to find that the only free seat was next to Joao. Everyone’s eyes drifted to you as you awkwardly wished a seat would randomly become free but your prayers were left unanswered. 
“Do you want the window seat or the aisle seat?” The brunette spoke up, slicing through the tension. 
“I- I don’t mind-” The last thing you wanted to do was to capture more attention on yourself. 
“You can have the window.” Grabbing his phone and bag he stood up, towering over you as he let you slide in next to him. You didn’t need to meet his eyes to know he was staring as you slotted yourself into the window seat. You cleared your throat as you pulled out your laptop and started to work on something to distract yourself from the situation before you.
“What are you working on?” His question caught you off guard, after what happened a few days ago you never expected him to attempt to start a conversation with you. 
“Just some plain graphics for the game.” You turned your laptop screen to him. Joao moved his head to get a better look at your work. “I leave the background blank as the photographers send us pictures throughout the game that we can put there and the numbers where the score would be are always left blank as we obviously don’t know what the score will be.” You looked over at him, your heart jumping as you realised he was already looking at you. 
“Is that what you mainly do? Graphics?” 
“Partly, I’ve filmed videos for the social media accounts, interviewed, edited, written captions, tweets, and even detailed a few apologies for some of the lads before. It’s basically a bit of everything.” You gave him a light smile. 
“How long have you been working here?”
“Started stewarding when I was eighteen and then when I was twenty I finally got a chance to work full time with the media department so a few years now.” You were beyond confused as to why he was suddenly so curious about you. “Why do you ask?” 
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just thought if I have to be stuck with you for hours on end that I might as well start a conversation rather than give you the cold shoulder for the journey.” 
“I thought you hated me?”
“I could say the same about you.” He glanced over at you before pulling out his AirPods. “Convinced you wanted me to fail-”
“I wouldn’t say fail… more hated the way you dealt with things.” 
“Well, I hated the way you spoke about me.”
“That’s fair…” You looked up at him to be met with his smirking grin. 
“Want one?” Offering you one of his AirPods with his cocky grin you took one and thanked him. He started playing music as he watched you work. The coach was quiet the most you could hear was the occasional chat from the lads and the typing of a few colleague's laptops. “Do you ever stop?” Joao asked out of the blue?” 
“It’s hard to.” You spared a glance at him. “We don’t just post things we also have to monitor comments, unfortunately, a lot of football fans believe they have the right to abuse players and discriminate against other fans that aren’t like them. Not all fans are like that though, most of them really do care about you guys.”
“You can tell.” He smiled. “I’ve never heard so many chants about different players.”
“If you like it now then imagine what it’ll be like if you guys start winning.” You smirked at him which earnt you a laugh from him. Attempting to hide a yawn you finished your work before putting it back in your bag. 
“Is that why you were late?” 
“Hmm?” 
“Did you oversleep?”
“That amongst other things.”
“Like?” 
You knew he wanted to keep the conversation going so the pair of you didn’t descend into madness during the long journey. “My cat-”
“How can a cat make you late?” He shifted in his seat so he faced you, clearly intrigued by your story. 
“Well the last thing I do before I leave is feed my cat -”
“What’s your cat called?” He asked. 
“Frank.”
“After Lampard?” His face swelled with amusement. 
“When I moved out my best friend got sick of me complaining about how much I missed my cats that lived with my parents so she decided to get me Frank and because I work for Chelsea she named him after Lampard, fitting now he’s taken over as a caretaker manager.” 
“And how did he make you late?” His smile grew. 
“As I said, the last thing I do before leaving is feed him. I was in my uniform and I was putting his food into his bowl when he jumped up and the food went all over me and well… I’m not exactly coming in smelling like tuna.” Joao couldn’t help but laugh at your words, catching the attention of Mason who was attempting to hear what the two of you were discussing. 
“Well,” He shifted in his seat again before patting his shoulder. “My shoulders here if you want it.” 
“You’d shrug me off just as I fall asleep.” You narrowed your gaze at him. 
“I’m a prick but I’m not that bad.” A small smile fell on both your lips. 
“Fine.” You didn’t want to argue, not again. 
You knew you and Mason were in the wrong discussing his relationship but he was also in the wrong when he hit back at you with comments about you and Trent but you didn’t want to dwell on what happened any longer. You let your head fall on his shoulder, you felt Joao warm to your touch as you got comfortable. Mason couldn’t believe his eyes at what he was seeing, he couldn’t help but nudge Ben several times in the ribs to make sure he wasn’t dreaming.   
Before you knew it, Joao was gently nudging you awake and the gates to the Liverpool ground were now behind you. You thanked him one last time before handing his airpod back to him. You left him with the rest of the boys as you followed the rest of your media colleagues towards the dugouts and journalism area. Everything ran smoothly despite your horrific morning, Joao was in the starting eleven which gave you the green light to use him as the main poster boy to announce the team news although you would’ve definitely picked Reece James if he wasn’t so nice to you. 
In the Liverpool line-up was Trent but that didn’t surprise you. When the teams came out of the tunnel for the match Trent looked up to the journalism area. His eyes met yours and sent you a wink and a smirk, an expression that caught the attention of Joao. He knew how you felt towards Trent after the England Camp and he knew his expression was just a way to get to you after the press continued to pit Chelsea and Liverpool against one another after their horrific seasons. 
The first half had ended goalless, Chelsea had a few decent chances, especially Joao but he was yet to get the ball in the back of the net. Within ten minutes of the second half, you watched Joao say something to Trent which had clearly rilled the scouser up. Trent shoved Joao and he quickly retaliated, shoving him back and shouting back at the man in red. The referee quickly ran up to the two of them whilst their teammates pulled them apart. They both received a yellow card and the game resumed.
You watched Joao carefully, wanting to tell him to lay off Trent because knowing his luck he’ll end up getting another yellow which will lead to a red. As if he could read your mind Joao eyed as Trent was given the ball, without thinking Joao threw himself at the lad, studs up causing Trent to fall to the ground in pain. Joao got up and yelled something at him as he clutched his ankle in pain. He stormed off, he knew it would be straight red. Liverpool fans booed and screamed at the Chelsea boy. The travelling Chelsea fans couldn’t believe what they’d seen, two red cards and he hadn’t even played a full season. 
Joao stormed down the tunnel and threw the door of the changing rooms open before slumping down on the bench where his stuff lay. You excused yourself from the media spot before jogging down to the changing rooms after Joao. You opened the door to see him throwing his boots across the floor. His eyes met yours as you walked into the room. 
“Haven’t you got graphics to make? Posts to make about me getting a red -”
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what? Get a red or put that prick in his place?” He huffed before continuing. “I saw the way he looked at you when we came through the tunnel. He was being a prick, Mason told me -” 
“What did Mason tell you?” You snapped, your eyes glaring at the man. 
“He told me you liked him and he treated you like you were his girlfriend then after deciding he didn’t want you he ran off with another girl.” 
“I’ll kill him-”
“It’s not his fault, I asked what had happened. I shouldn’t have pressed him but I did.” 
“Well, maybe Mason should keep his mouth shut.” Your eyes were still fixed on his. “And you should too, what did you say to him?” 
“I didn’t say anything to him.”
“Don’t lie to me Joao, I saw you said something to him when you two got your first yellow cards.”
“It was nothing -”
“What did you say to him?” Your voice grew louder. “Joao-” 
“I told him I was glad he didn’t want you because if he stayed with you then I wouldn’t get to hear you moaning around me every night.” He looked proud yet embarrassed at his words. He knew it would rial Trent up but he also knew a cheap joke at your expense would also piss you off. 
“You’re not fucking serious.” 
“y/n I’m sorry I -”
“Look I know I was a dickhead to you a few days ago but I was still right, you are a pushover, you even let Trent push you around all because he looked at me?” You stepped closer to him. “How did you ever make it professional when someone who looks at me pisses you off?”
“He made you uncomfortable, I wasn’t going to let it slide.”
“If it made you that annoyed you couldn’ve dealt with it off the pitch. The fans don’t deserve this and neither do the rest of the lads, it’s not fair!” You took a deep breath. “Why the sudden need to be a hero? I don’t need you to fight for me and make up something that would never happen between us -”
“You know all I was trying to do was to be nice!” He stood up and walked over to you, his breath on your face and his voice raising in aggression. “Most people would thank me for what I did.” He looked down at you. “You really think that wouldn’t happen between us either?” He now smirked at you, his hand reaching up to tuck some hair behind your ear. “I could have you underneath me in a heartbeat.”
“I’d thank you if you didn’t get sent off or made some shitty cheap joke about me! And if you ever think I’d even go near you like that you are very much mistaken!” 
“Yeah, we’ll see.” He ran his hand through his hair and took a deep breath. “I get it but you aren’t perfect too!”
“I never claimed to be!”
“You sure act it, judging everyone else's relationships but god forbid someone makes a comment about yours!”
“We were never in a relationship!”
“I can see why…” He snapped, turning his back towards you as he threw his shirt over his head and discarded his shirt. You might have wanted to slap him back down to earth but you couldn’t help but spare a glance at him. How his girlfriend cheated on him you’d never know, the man was gorgeous. 
Ever since yours and Joao’s dispute you’d hardly spoken to him unless you had to conduct an interview for Chelsea’s social media pages. Tonight was the end of the season awards and just like every single year you were attending. You made sure to match your dress to the exact shade of the Chelsea shirt. Your hair and make-up were done to perfection as you walked through the halls towards one of the lounges which was decorated with a million shades of blue and shades of silver and gold. Every year the hospitality team always outdone themselves and this year was no different. 
Mason greeted you with open arms and so did his family. Most of the boys bought their family or partners along however one player was completely on his own and that was Joao. He was sat on one of the tables opposite you, his eyes were fixed on you but his expression was hard to read. Was he pissed off? Was he apologetic? You weren’t sure but one thing was for certain, he wouldn’t look away. 
The night seemed to drag on, awards after awards were being dished out, some for credible achievements such as top goal scorer and others for more interesting achievements such as most pints downed after a win. You sat alongside Mason and his family when the awards ended. Music filled the lounge as everyone continued to socialise and drink the night away. You excused yourself from the table, getting sick of Joao watching you, you headed to the bathrooms to touch up your make-up but you didn’t realise someone was following you. 
“You look beautiful.” The familiar sound of Joao’s voice made you jump. He was leaning against the wall of the bathrooms, his eyes raking over your body. 
Joao regretted everything he’d said to you that day against Liverpool. The pair of you had spent many hours with one another in the media rooms, creating content for Chelsea and although you didn’t get off brilliantly due to his red card on his debut, he could tell you only wanted the best for everyone at the club, no matter if they were a player or simply cleaning staff. He’d come to his sense on the way to the Liverpool game that you were right about his relationship. Hearing your stories about your work and even your cat named after Frank made him think, perhaps that was the real reason why he went for Trent. 
“You know this is the women’s bathroom.” 
“I’m aware.” He pushed himself off the wall and walked over to you. “But my point still stands.”
“Thank you.” 
“Can we talk?”
“In the women’s bathroom?”
“No time like the present.” He smirked. You were still facing the mirror and Joao was standing behind you, looking at you through the mirror. “I’m sorry for what I did.” 
Huffing at his words you met his eyes briefly if the pair of you didn’t talk now the issue would never be resolved and if Joao wasn’t to sign permanently then you knew you’d never forgive yourself for the way the two of you ended things. “I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have called you a pushover.”
“But, I’m not sorry for what I said and did to Trent.” His hands snaked around your waist as he spoke. “Or for what I said about you.”
“Which part?” You set your lipgloss down, doing your best to pretend that you couldn’t feel his breath on your neck and his touch on your hips. “The part about me having you.”
“In your dreams.” You tried to step away but that would only push you closer to him. His grip tightened on your hips whilst his lips ghosted your neck. “You have a girlfriend-”
“No, I don’t.” He kissed your neck bore he spun you around to face him. “Why did you think I turned up alone?” 
“Why?”
“Well… you may have been right besides… the ‘pushover’ has had someone else on his mind recently...”  
Joao didn’t hesitate, his lips met yours, one hand cupped your cheek whilst the other went down to your thigh, pushing your dress to the side and allowed his hand to travel along your skin. You hesitated for a second before kissing him back. You couldn’t lie to yourself that Joao was hot, he was beautiful and if this was the way the two of you would make up then well… it was worth getting into a fight with him. 
Your hands went to his hair, tugging on the strands as he allowed his hand to travel higher up your leg. “God you’re perfect.” His lips now travelled down your exposed neck, gently tugging on your skin as his grip on your leg tightened. 
“You ruined my lipgloss.” You pouted as Joao pulled back to smirk at you. 
“You’re lucky we’re in the stadium otherwise I would ruin more than your lipgloss.” His lips met yours once again. He tugged on your bottom lip, making you moan as he pulled the zip of your dress down. Jumping at the sudden gush of cold air against your back he smirked into the kiss before letting his warm hands trail down your back as he peeled the dress from your body. He let the front of it pool around your waist. 
Your hands moved from his hair to his suit jacket, pushing it off his shoulders before grabbing his tie and pulling him back into a kiss. He lightly moaned as your nails raked across his white shirt. Joao’s hands went to your bra, unclasping it within seconds. He pulled away from the kiss as his hands cupped your boobs. “We should’ve argued sooner.” 
Smiling at his words you watched as he took your nipple in his mouth whilst grabbing the other with his free hand. “Fuck…” You moaned, your legs parting so he could get closer to you. Your bliss was cut short when he moved away. His hands hooked themselves around the backs of your thighs. 
“Jump.” He instructed you. Without hesitation, you jumped into his arms and he placed you on the bathroom counter. “Good girl.” His hands went to his own shirt, undoing the buttons so your hands could now trace his skin. Your nails raked his skin as Joao let his hands run up to your underwear.
“You do know someone could walk in right?” You spoke with a heavy breath. 
“And?” He kissed you again. “Keep quiet and they won’t.”
“You don’t know that-”
“y/n… shut up and trust me.”
“Make me.” You teased but he didn’t need to be told twice. Joao moved your dress aside so he could see your underwear. Pushing your underwear aside he let his fingers tease your clit. The light touches sent butterflies through your stomach as Joao started to add pressure. Your head fell back at his movements. “Please…” You moaned as Joao watched you come undone around him. Leaving your clit he moved towards your entrance. Joao slowly pushed two fingers inside of you which earnt a sudden moan from you. 
“I was right…” He breathed out, his hand pulling your face to look at him whilst he quickened his pace. “Your moans are beautiful.” Whilst his fingers fucked you his thumb went to your clit and started to bring you closer to your high. 
“Fuck you.” You breathed out. 
“Think I’m the one doing that love.” 
You could feel his hard-on against your thigh which only made you wetter against his touch. Joao could feel you getting closer, your moans continued to grow louder as he quickened his pace. “You look so gorgeous about to come around me…”
“Please Joao… please…” You whined at his actions, your nails leaving red marks across his skin. 
“Please what?” He taunted. 
“Please let me come.” 
“Yeah?” His lips ghosted yours as he kept adding pressure. “Come for me then.” He pressed his lips back onto yours as you came. You moaned into the kiss, your grip on his skin leaving darker marks which you knew wouldn’t fade for a while. “Such a good girl for me.” He kissed you before moving his fingers to his mouth so he could taste you. He savoured the moment before he quickly unbuckled his belt and allowed his cock to spring out. 
He pumped his cock a few times whilst his free hand went to your face, his thumb traced across your bottom lip before he spoke. “As much as I want your mouth around me right now… I need to fuck you.” 
He let his thumb fall into your mouth as he lined himself up and slowly pushed himself inside of you. Your face scrunched up at his size slowly pushing inside of you. Joao cupped your face whilst his free hand gripped your hip. “Is it too much?” He asked. 
“No… just go slowly.”
Joao kissed you gently. “Of course my love.” Your heart fluttered at his nickname but that feeling soon spread to your stomach when you felt Joao pull out and thrust back inside. “You feel so good.” His head fell against yours, your lips ghosting one another as he repeated his actions. Feeling used to his size you allowed your leg to hook around his waist and pull him deeper into you. 
“Faster…” You moaned in his ear. He didn’t need to be told twice. Pulling out he quickly slammed his hips back into yours and started to move at a quicker pace. “Fuck Joao…”
“My name sounds so pretty falling from your lips…” He moaned in your ear as he continued going faster. The pair of you knew that if it wasn't for the music in the lounge then everyone would have heard you. His fingers go back down to your clit and he quickly started to apply pressure to the bud. Your hands gripped onto the back of his neck, pulling him into a moaning kiss as he continued to fuck you faster. 
Pulling away from the kiss Joao pulled out completely before pulling you off of the counter. With one last kiss on your lips, he spun you around so you were facing the mirror and bent you over. With a harsh smack to your ass, he quickly pulled your dress back up and around your hips before kicking your legs apart. Grabbing a fistful of your hair he forced you to look at yourself in the mirror. 
“He could never fuck you as good as I can… could he?” He was evidently referring to Trent but your mind was too clouded with pleasure to even care. Joao lined himself up again, slowly letting the lip tease you. He couldn’t suppress the moan that fell from his lips at your wetness leaking onto him, he was so close but he wanted you for as long as he could. “Could he?” He repeated again. 
“No…” You moaned out, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you again. 
“Who fucks you this good?” He quickly slammed himself inside of you again, tugging on your hair so that you were leaning closer to him. 
“You do…” You whispered. 
Joao pulled out before slamming back in. “I can’t hear you…” He taunted you with his slow movements. 
“You do Joao fuck!” You screamed as he started to fuck you again. His pace quickened as he pulled you against his chest, fucking you as faster. His hands reached around to play with your clit which only added to your pleasure. You started to grind back onto his cock as he slammed back inside of you. You could feel him stiffen inside of you which indicated he was close. 
“Joao I’m gonna come…” You let your head fall as you felt your stomach tighten. 
“Yeah? Come then baby… come all over my cock…” 
You couldn’t hold back for much longer, you felt your high wash over you and that was all you needed for Joao to finish inside of you. He pulled you closer to him as he finished, his groans filling your ear as the two of you slowly came down from your high. 
“So good for me.” He kissed your head as he slowly pulled out. He quickly got himself cleaned up before he helped you back into your clothes so you looked presentable to head back out to the party. “Beautiful.” He kissed your lips one last time. “I’ll head back out now, wait for a second and then follow me out. Just in case.” He turned on his heel but you called out to him before he left. 
“Joao?” He turned to meet your gaze. “Who was the other person on your mind?” 
He smiled at your words before replying. “Turn around and you’ll see her.” 
If you turned around you’d be met with a mirror, and you were the only one in the bathroom. 
884 notes · View notes
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May I request some jealous Henry with lots of fluff, please? 🥹❤️
You got it, babe! I may have taken a bit of a liberty with this one. I got a thought in my head and had to get it out, so I'm sorry if it wasn't quite what you'd imagined, lol. Thanks for stopping by!
Warnings: a little bit of angsty homesickness, some raunchy banter, and plenty of fluff in the form of a cow/bear/pig
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"So...What are you wearing?"
"Henry!"
His laughter fills the room. Another night apart means another night alone in bed. Distance is always hard on a relationship, and though you've been through your share of time apart, it doesn't make it any easier this time around. At least it's just for a couple of weeks, while he's off running the press gauntlet for the newest season of The Witcher. It's bittersweet this time around. The last several months have been hard, watching him mourn the loss of a project he loved so much, and it sucks that you couldn't be there for him now. The plan was for him to go off and do everything abroad, then you'd meet back up and join him at the premiere in London. In the meantime though, all this waiting was driving you nuts.
The house is dark, except for the glow of the bedside lamp that illuminates the room that you're used to sharing with your man and his bear. Kal is used to tagging along for most adventures, and it's clear that he's a bit disappointed about having to stay behind as well. His ears perk up at the sound of his dad's voice, but doesn't bother to investigate further. He's far too comfy to move.
"Come on, love. Just a peek?"
Henry is a menace, and he knows what that does to you. With those beautiful eyes and that cheeky little grin, you could never tell him no. Throwing the blankets aside, you reach out to adjust the screen of your laptop to give him the perfect view of your sexiest fleece pajama bottoms.
"Hey!" he protests. "That's my shirt!"
"Yeah, and?
Even now, propped up in the bed of a hotel room a couple thousand miles away, Henry couldn't hide from you. The banter was just a facade, a distraction to keep you from seeing just how much he missed you. He thought he'd built a wall of stone to keep you from knowing, but in reality, it was just a pane of glass. One look and it shattered around him.
Henry sighs. He doesn't have to speak for you to know what he's feeling, because you feel it too. It's an odd sensation, feeling so homesick when you're still at home. You look down at the t-shirt you're wearing. The gray one he wore in the Durrell Challenge a few years back. Even though its been sitting in the back of the closet for a while, it still smells like him. That's why you picked it.
"What time is it there?" you ask, but it's clear by the look in his eyes just how tired he is. Must be getting pretty late, even for an insomniac gamer like him.
"Late. But I don't have anything planned for the morning, so don't worry."
You sit in silence for a moment, both of you laying on your sides facing each other just as you would if he were here with you now. When you open your mouth to speak, to finally admit just how much you miss him, you're cut short by a loud, rumbling snort from the foot of the bed. The culprit lets out a yawn ("Good yawn!") and a stretch ("Big stretch, bubba"), then works his way up the bed to nose at the keyboard a bit.
"Uh oh. We've woken the bear," you tease, rubbing the beast behind his ears as he circles the space he's made between you and the computer to rest in. Kal sniffs and sighs to voice his disappointment, then settles down again to snooze for a little while longer.
"Keeping Mumma company, I see," Henry smirks. "I might even let it slide that you've let him on the bed."
You shrug, grinning ear to ear as you ruffle Kal's mane. "When the wolf's away..."
That struck a nerve. Maybe it's the jetlag finally catching up to him, or maybe its the distance. You can see it in the shift in his eyes, the tense of his jaw. It makes you snort with laughter.
"Oh, come on, Cavill. Look at that face. You can't possibly be jealous of him. You'll get plenty of snuggles the moment you're home." Then you wink. "Snuggles, and then some."
The wrinkles on his brow disappear, and he realizes just how silly it is to be jealous of the dog. Better to be jealous of him than someone else, at least. Shaking his head, he laughs. What an idiot. Either way, it's good enough for now. Henry shifts to prop himself up on an elbow to look down at the screen. He's sure you'll make good on your promise. In the meantime...
"Now," he says with a grin. Good ole Henry, always back to business as per usual. "Care to flash me a tit?"
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toruvi · 3 months
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It's 3:04 in the afternoon when you're buried nose-deep in writing your research paper. And though you've been trying to focus on it for the last half hour, the only thing on your mind is literally all of the other things you need to get done. Clean your room, do the dishes, finish that late assignment (it's been almost a week now!) Shit. Too many things to do, and there's never enough hours in the day to feel like you can finish them.
You may or may not have been tipping over the edge of a breaking point for a while now.
But you've been convinced that it was hidden fairly well, at least from your friends. They don't press more than a simple "good luck with your paper" or "talk to you soon" when you tell them how busy you are.
However, your boyfriend definitely notices.
Levi isn't one to not speak his mind when something bothers him. In fact, he's pointed out several times in the last week that you shouldn't be overworking yourself. Out of anyone you know, Levi knows your limits the most. And he must see it where you don't, considering he's walked into your apartment with his copy of the key and is now standing over you, a paper bag in his hand as he glares down his nose.
"Hey," you mumble, turning back to your laptop screen in front of you. But the laptop is forced shut by a veiny hand, replaced with the plop of that same paper bag Levi was just holding. "Whats that?"
You pout when he slides the laptop down the dining table.
"Lunch. You need to eat."
"I'm not hungry."
"I know you are, don't fight me on this. Please just eat with me. Forget about your work for a minute."
He pulls out the boxes in the bag, revealing a couple of sandwiches. Fine, maybe you're a little hungry.
"You didn't answer my calls so I had to guess what you would've liked," Levi murmurs as he slides the boxes toward you. You mutter an apology, but he's not mad. He waves it off, simply telling you to eat and "stop worrying about shit for one damn second."
With anyone else, it might've pissed you off.
When you're absorbed in your work, it's hard to gather energy to talk to other people, let alone even take care of yourself. And yet, somehow, Levi is the one person who manages to read you like a book. For some reason, he's able to pick up on your bouts of silence and understand what you need. You always wondered how he can do that.
And though he's yet to say "I love you", you wonder if gestures like this are close enough to that.
He doesn't ask about work, merely sits with you and eats in silence. The brief moment of quiet feels good, comforting even. Especially in Levis presence. Despite his coarse language and tendency to maintain a glare most if not all times, you've always found him to be so... Stable. A steady wall to lean on when the world makes your stance tremble.
You really love that about him.
When you two have finished, Levi promptly cleans up the table. You assume it's okay to go back to work, but his hand lands on yours when you try to pull it back.
"You're done for the day," he says with a firm stare. The usual one he gives when he absolutely refuses to listen to any counterargument you might come up with. "We're gonna go for a walk, take you outside. Just get out of this shit and breathe some real fresh air."
"I'm not a dog," you grumble as he holds out his hand to you now to help you stand.
"Mhm," is all he says.
You two walk around the neighborhood, Levi having taken away your phone in an effort to keep you from too much more screen time. He'd return it if you really asked, but you're thankful for the restriction in all honesty.
Usually, Levi isn't the one to initiate an exorbitant amount of physical contact. It's you who tends to absentmindedly cling to his arm while you're talking. And it's generally you who comes up behind him to cover his eyes and make him guess who, despite the fact that he already knew just from the sound of your footsteps.
Most often, Levi does attend to little touches here and there. The back of your neck, the edge of your hip, the top of your thigh, along the line of your jaw. And now in this moment, it's when Levi steps up a little and takes your hand completely in his. It isn't anything new for you to hold hands, but it's rare for him to be initiator.
You appreciate that. Those moments where he's willing to be more brave about touching. It's calming, feeling his fingers between yours as your arms sway with every step.
"I'm sorry for being so short with you lately," you sigh, staring at the cracks in the sidewalk you step on. Levi always seems to make a subconscious effort not to step on them, even now.
"It's nothing. I'm always short with you, anyways..." He trails off quietly.
Your sudden snort startles him, obvious with the incredulous look on his face as you burst into a tiny fit of laughter. His brow raises in confusion.
"That wasn't even close to being a funny joke and you're still laughing?"
"It was funny to me! You're always funny."
"You're the only person in the whole world who thinks that."
"Must be why you're dating me, right?"
His hold tightens around your hand. "I'm dating you because I l-"
Levi cuts himself off and inhales through his nose, pushing his sunglasses up to hide his eyes as he recomposes himself. "I'm dating you for a multitude of reasons."
"You could be more specific."
"If you keep talking I'm gonna have fewer reasons," he clears his throat, hovering his free hand over his eyes to shield himself from the sun, leaving remnants of the summer's heat on his skin.
You smile, for the first time in a few days, actually. "I thought you were trying to make me feel better."
"Hmph." Clearly, Levi has nothing else to say.
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groguspicklejar · 2 years
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soft days [Bucky Barnes]
summary: After facing The Flag Smashers and saving the world once more, Bucky offers you his place to crash after yours got burned to the ground. But with the constant flirting, you almost regret accepting... almost.
prompt: "All you need is a little love, and some freshly baked cookies. But an orgasm never hurt anybody."
pairing: tfatws!Bucky Barnes x reader
warnings: +18 smut, Bucky being a smug little shit, language, Shirtless Bucky, fingering, allusions to fem receiving.
A/N: This wasn't proofread. I'll fix the mistakes later. Please leave a like, comment and reblog. Enjoy❤️
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Bucky Barnes is a fucking tease. And he fucking knows it.
Through all the months of paperwork, you had to sort through after the Flag Smashers attacked, you realized this annoying little fact when Bucky would walk around the apartment half-naked.
You didn't have a crush on him. You swear you weren't attracted to him and didn't think of him that way. This was of course a complete lie because your brain would short circuit whenever you'd see miles of muscle and black and vibranium gold.
You sat on the couch, typing away and chose to ignore his tall figure as he strode around his kitchen. Or rather, tried to. Your thighs clenched as you watched the muscles on his back muscles flexing while he ransacked the fridge.
He drank from the carton of milk and turned to look at you. "You work too much."
"Well, someone has to." you muttered, focusing on the screen of your laptop.
"When was the last time you ate?" he asked, tilting his head.
For the first time, you really took the time to pause and think about something other than the workload that has been pushing you to the limit. "I think yesterday?"
It hadn't been a few hours into this new day, right? The only time you remember putting something edible in your mouth was in fact yesterday, you just couldn't recall the time. However, you did recall Bucky making a lot of lame jokes and smiling when you almost choked on your food.
God, that smile made you weak.
Then your attention shifted back to your laptop as soon as you put a stop to that train of thought. No need to dwell on those distracting moments. You need to work.
"Yeah, at breakfast." he pointed out, propping down next to you. "Doll, come on."
You chose to ignore him simply for the fact that he chose the worst day to be showing off his godlike form. "Have something to eat."
"Barnes, I'm not in the mood for sugar at this hour." Your brows furrowed as you focused. You might have found a good enough living arrangement just yet. Only for your device to be snatched from your lap. "Wha— Hey!"
He held it in his vibranium hand. "Since when are we on a last name basis now, sweetheart?"
"Since you keep trying to distract me from work and house hunting."
"Am I really that bad?" he smirked, licking his lips. The fucker knew how tempting he fucking was. And how annoying. "I offer you a place to sleep and remind you to eat and take care of yourself."
He leaned further into your space, which made you inhale sharply. You played it off by putting your feet on the couch, adding a barrier between the you two.
"Yeah, and you drink straight from the milk carton." You will never cease the satisfaction you get from calling him out on his bullshit. "Give it back."
"Not until you eat." He waved the pastry in your face.
You brushed him off, rolling your eyes. And then you felt his arm draping over your shoulder. His warmth oozed into your skin, and as did his scent, which did things to your raging mind.
"Just sayin, sweetheart." His hand caressed your knee, slowly gliding further and further and you found your thoughts bending to his will. "All you need is a little love, and some freshly baked cookies."
You watched him safely put the laptop away and closed it. Then he put the pastry on top of it. What you didn't expect was for him to lean closer to you.
"Wh—what're you—" you stuttered feebly, backing away when his nose touched yours, fully aware of the vibranium hand pressed on your ribcage as his stature loomed over you.
"But an orgasm never hurt anyone."
Goddammit, Barnes.
You scowled, feeling your cheeks burn at the lazy grin settling on his smug face. The warmth between your legs grew exponentially with each moment his hand inched closer to your your shorts, his fingers slipping underneath the hem.
You sucked in a shaky breath when his cold fingers instantly made contact with where you wanted him the most. Instantly, your thighs clenched around his hand.
Fuck, he was just touching your clit and it already feels like you were boiling in your own skin. Your teeth caught your bottom lip as you struggled not to let out a sound, as you were struggling to breathe properly.
"Sweetheart, you're drenched." He licked his lips, humming as he observed how your head lolled back. "I've always wondered if you'd taste as good as you look."
"Fuck you..." you hissed through clenched teeth, struggling to keep your eyes open because his fingers -God, his fingers- made tight little circles on your clit.
"Oh, I'm about to."
You hadn't had an orgasm in months. Bucky's enhanced hearing was always that one factor that inhibited you from touching yourself. Whenever the itch needed to be scratched, you drowned yourself in work instead.
Which is why the pressure built rapidly, taking you higher and higher so fast, you were scared of the fall. Heat pooled in your belly, swirling, threatening to burst you right open.
He gave you a smile so dubious when you let out a shaky moan, you thought you were staring straight at a predator. You hadn't realized he was prowling over you until your back hit the couch. His arm being the only thing keeping your legs from shutting in completely.
"You're full of shit."
"And you about to be full of me, baby." You wanted to smack the smug grin off his face.
"Barnes—" you hissed, trying to close your legs, more out of instinct than anything, despite your pussy clenching so tightly around his fingers. He didn't let you, pushing more of his weight on top of you until your knees were on either sides of his torso and he pushed his fingers so deep that your toes curled while you sighed in delight. "Y—you're such a..."
Your hand grasped his wrist, the one between your legs and you didn't realize your hips raised to find more pleasure, more of his touch. You wanted more, but you didn't want to say it. Didn't want to give him the satisfaction.
"Sorry, doll." he said, kissing your neck. "What was that?"
You keened harshly, the heat in your stomach building faster, taking you higher and and higher. Bucky plants another delicate kiss on your pulse, his teeth grazing your collarbone and that had done it.
The orgasm hit you harder than you'd expected. Hot-white pleasure flooding your entire system with a force than numbed every last frantic thought in your mind. Your spine bowed tightly as you barely turned your head to mewl into the cushion that was beside your head.
Leaving you vulnerable, unaware of Bucky's gaze. Unaware of the desire just waiting to be unleashed as he watched you cum on his fingers. For he's waited too long to see this happen in real time. You didn't see how he looked at you, like you were the most precious thing to ever exist because your eyes were tightly shut.
"That's what I thought." Your limbs were too weak to smack him in the face.
You breathed deeply, turning your head in time to see him licking his fingers and a moan slipped through his lips. The sight made your cheeks burn hotter than they already did. Your heart might jump through your chest and that worried you.
He leaned back on his knees and took off his shirt. Then he looked down on you, and you felt more like prey with each passing second.
You gasped when he threw your legs over his shoulders and you see his tongue swiping over his lips as he pulled your shorts off, along with your soaked panties to the side. He siched your legs apart this time, groaning as he kissed your weakened thighs.
"Now sit back and let me help you relax."
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luvyujun · 1 month
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negative rizz.
“last name is bitches, first name is no.”
in which quiet boy anton shots his shot and attempts to run away from his bitch-less title. spoiler alert, it doesn’t go according to plan. ABORT MISSION..
lee chanyoung / anton.
“one date, please.”
“no.”
“PLEASE.”
ever since anton found you in the library, he had been begging for just one date. and it’s not like you’re some random girl! knowing each other for 3 years now. a single date is all he wanted! the poor boy was tired of hearing his friends tease him and his bitch-less agenda that he so strongly opposed. his head rested on your shoulder while your attention stay glued to the laptop screen in front of you.
“why can’t i just take you on one date! i’ll make it worth your while i swear!!” the male was basically whining into your ear now, his head weighing down your shoulder as he scooted closer. invading your imaginary bubble with his pleas and cries. such a drama queen! ignoring his words, for what seemed like the sixth time in the past hour he’s been here, your fingers made work on the keyboard.
huffing in your ear, shuffling could be heard not too far from the table you two were seated in — causing anton’s eyes to chase after the source of the noise. craning his neck, the boy looked past you and just across the way, where a few boys sat down at a vacant table. which was conveniently located a few feet away from you. eyes nearly popping out of his head when the realization set in.
the other six boys had found him, and were staring directly at you two. wide smiles on each of their faces, which was a stark contrast to antons deepening frown. shifting his gaze back to you, his desperation went from high to higher. basically skyrocketing with the presence of his groups expecting glances.
“you know, i’m not going to say yes just because your little crew is here now.” he was completely lost in thought, your words violently snapping him back to. “please yn, you don’t understand how important this is to me!” throwing himself back onto your shoulders, the younger man thought of his now limited options. whining like a toddler clearly was not working and his chances of getting you to even think of the word yes was plummeting faster than the stock-market in 1929.
your unamused gaze shifted between anton, his friends, and your computer screen stared back at you — swearing you heard the electronic device sigh. man, what does a woman have to do to be able to finish her exams in peace? closing the device abruptly, you stood just as quickly. stuffing the laptop into your bag, you were quick to start heading towards the exit — a dazed anton trailing after you. the six pairs of eyes following as you two made your way to the front.
“where are you going??” you came to an abrupt stop, causing his front to have a meet and greet with your back — might as well ask for your backs autograph since he’s so close. “oh my goodness, i’ll go on a date with you if you finish my exam for me.” sarcasm lacing your words. scratching the back of his head, anton took a few steps back. there was silence, the sound of the library doors creaking open. he didn’t even have to turn around to know who was there.
“so is that a yes?”
“oh my god, you’re actually insufferable.”
“I’M JUST ASKING!!”
“just give up man, this is getting embarrassing..”
note - i had a lot of fun writing this little thing. i didn’t wanna write anything serious so i didn’t! should i make another part where they actually go out or keep it as is? also did i mention this was written in like 10 minutes 😭
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callmewrinkles3 · 1 year
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All Too Well - DR3 x Fem!OC
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Summary: Saying goodbye is hard. Saying goodbye to your family without telling them it’s a final goodbye is even harder. But Em has come to terms that Dan doesn’t love her the same way she loves him, and leaving on her own terms will hurt less than being told he’s ending things. March 2022.
Word Count: 12.3k
Warnings: fighting, all the angst this bad boy can carry, lil bit of a dickhead!Dan, running away from your friends, mentions of death, mentions of motorsport crashes and deaths, moving without telling anyone, lying to family, talk of medical procedures, frank talks about what people want to happen if they can’t decide.
A/N: We’ve kept you waiting, but we hope this was worth the wait! This part of our story is what started us on this madcap adventure together, and it’s a lot of what makes our beloved Em Em. Thank you in advance!
Em stared at the two boarding passes in front of her as she sat in the fancy Heathrow lounge, a caramel latte beside them. Heathrow to Dubai, Dubai to Melbourne. More than twenty hours spent on planes to get to Melbourne, to jump into work and get stuck in at the Australian Grand Prix. And it was the last thing she wanted to do.
She should be excited. She should be so happy because she was about to see the boys after over a week apart, she was about to see Dan. She was finally going to get to see the Ricciardos after almost two years apart. But she was dreading it, the memories from Saudi filling her head as she thought. Em forced her attention to the laptop sitting on her knees, emails up and the one she never thought she’d write sitting in the middle of the screen.
SUB: Resignation Letter
Dear Blake,
Please use this email as my official resignation, effective immediately. I’m sorry that I can’t offer any more notice.
Working with you has been fantastic, and I appreciate everything we’ve gotten to do over the past three years.
Kind regards,
Emma.
Signing it Emma felt wrong. Emma was for Zak Brown and Andreas Sidle. Christian Horner had used it the one time she was introduced to him at Red Bull. She was always Em or Ems now. Except for Dan, she was his Emmy. But that wasn’t going to happen any time soon. Or ever again. If he called her that she thought she might lose the last grip she had on her composure and break.
The email was scheduled and sitting in her outbox to send after the race, and the last thing she did before boarding was reschedule her flight home. Instead of leaving Monday morning with the boys, she was going on Sunday evening. She’d be somewhere over Queensland by the time Blake received the email and the boys would be at least twelve hours behind her. It was enough time to make sure she could be well ahead of them and get away.
It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She was supposed to be smiling and laughing, and she was supposed to be in Perth right now cuddling her niblings and laughing with Grace and Joe. Learning to cook yet another family recipe and insisting that she and Dan were just friends. She couldn’t even answer the question honestly if they were friends now.
He’d sent her away. The one thing she begged him not to do, the pinkie promise she’d made him give. The only promise she had ever asked him to keep. Not to stay safe while driving, not to do anything else. Not to leave her alone. The near screaming match they’d had in his drivers room that Blake and Michael had to break up. The way he didn’t even look at her but told Blake to “take Ems to the hotel”. How she had tears streaming down her face as she was escorted through the paddock like she wasn’t supposed to be there.
She still didn’t fully believe that she’d dropped her phone in the car. Em shouldn’t even have been in the car alone with Blake, but Dan insisted she went to the hotel room so she went. She was left there alone in Saudi Arabia, where Dan knew she couldn’t leave the hotel. She stared out the window at the smoke from the rockets, completely alone all night until Michael knocked on her door the following morning and she had to pretend everything was fine.
She’d worked from hospitality and as soon as the race finished she changed her flights to go back to London instead of Perth, making up an excuse. And Dan bought that she was going back for her parents.
“Family stuff.” She’d said when he asked.
“Em, you don’t talk to your family much.” She was folding clothes into her case, the one she’d brought that had her Australia clothes already standing fully packed.
“Yeah, but it’s family. My parents have their thirty fifth wedding anniversary in a few weeks, I’m helping plan it.” Only the last part of her words were a lie and she bit her tongue.
“Everyone wants to see you, they all miss you and they keep asking when you’ll be over. The kids miss you.”
“I’ll see them in Melbourne, Dan. You go, enjoy your time at home with them.”
She’d gotten a car to bring her to the airport and Dan hadn’t even asked a question, just a “text me when you land”. There was no hug, no even quick hand squeeze like they usually did in the Middle East. That’s when she knew whatever they were doing. The nearly four years of sleeping together and pretending they weren’t, of the media wondering who she was and why she was always there, was over.
She’d promised herself that she wasn’t going to catch feelings, that it was just sex. That she could do it. That every time she told Dan “y’know, right?” it was purely platonic. That the slow sex was just them wanting to take their time, nothing else. That she hadn’t murmured to Dan to make love to her in Bahrain when they shouldn’t have even been sharing a room after Grosjean’s crash, when he kissed her and held onto her and whispered that he loved her as he entered her.
Because that was sixteen months ago and nothing had changed. It was never going to change between them. Their fight in Saudi had proven it, and now she had to pretend that everything was fine before she said goodbye to the people she loved for the last time.
She couldn’t keep working with Dan when not sleeping with him. She couldn’t watch him fall for another woman, couldn’t get introduced to more people as “Em, my best friend” anymore. She was his Emmy. He was her Danny. And not getting to love him and be loved by him how she wanted to was going to kill her.
The flights were what she expected, Dan had upgraded her tickets to first class like he always did and she wanted to kill him like she always did. She spent the flights and the layovers organising his calendar for the next three months, tracking his flights and cross checking the sponsor events that had been filled in. Everything up to Hungary was booked and ready to go. She checked her watch when she was halfway to Melbourne, realising that he’d be at the Optus event she was usually on his arm for. She was supposed to be there this year, but she told him to take Michelle instead. All the events around the Australian GP that she always went as his plus one, wearing the star necklace he’d gotten her for her birthday, and the matching earrings that were her Christmas present the same year. Her outfit was usually one he’d bought for her against her protests because “let me spoil you” was how he showed that he cared, and she always wore the gold moon ring on her thumb that matched the sun one she’d bought him for his little finger. Most of her wardrobe and all of her everyday jewellery were presents from Dan. Her life was completely entwined with his, and untangling it all was going to hurt.
Her flight got in at god-awful o’clock that Wednesday morning, she’d lost a full day having left London on the Monday evening, but she walked through Melbourne customs with her suitcase glad to just be through. She’d told everyone she’d get an Uber to the hotel and meet them for breakfast, but instead as soon as she appeared in front of the glowing Melbourne sign two small figures ran to her yelling.
“AUNTIE EMMY YOU’RE HERE YOU’RE HERE!” Em dropped her bags and fell to her knees, arms wide open to pull Isaac and Isabella into her and pressing so many kisses to their curly heads.
“I’m here, I’m here. I missed you both so much. So, so much. I’m so sorry I couldn’t see you, I wanted to see you sooner.” Stupid Western Australia and closed borders and not letting people through. Her eyes began shining as she took in the difference in the two kids, Isaac at least a foot taller and losing the childlike way he’d spoken. Isabella had doubled in size, long hair and a child instead of a toddler the last time she’d seen her in person.
“It’s ok, you’re here now! Nana said you’ll sit with us for ev’rything ‘cept the race? Cause we’ve got two years of birthday and Christmas pressies for you!” Isaac looked so proud, grinning as he took her wheeled carry on and pulled it.
“I can’t wait. Who’re you here with?”
“Grandad Joe! He has our sign, Uncle Mike and Uncle Blake told us we had to use all the glitter. We were gonna wait, but I saw you and I wanted a hug. Is that ok?” He looked almost worried of her response, but she ruffled his hair.
“It’s more than ok. All I wanted was hugs from the two of you.”
Isabella clung to her waist, Em lifting her up with one arm and mentally thanking Michael for the strength training that let her carry the girl and pull her suitcase with her. She looked around to see Joe holding a giant piece of bright orange card, Auntie Emmy written on it in blue and silver glitter. It was the shiniest thing she’d ever seen in her life, and it was coming home with her even with the craft herpes that would infest her suitcase. Joe pulled her into a one armed hug on the side his granddaughter wasn’t monopolising, pushing a kiss to the side of her forehead that made her want to cry.
“We missed you, kiddo. Grace wanted to be here but we couldn’t fit her in the car too, and Dan’s doing media today. You cut it tight to get in.”
“It’s my parents wedding anniversary next week, I’ve been helping. I have to fly out after the race on Sunday.” It was Wednesday, and she could see his face fall as he realised how little time they’d have together.
“We’re spending as much time with you as we can until you go. Those boys get you all year round, we get you for this weekend.”
“That sounds perfect.”
When they made it to the hotel Em was greeted with yet more hugs from Grace, Michelle, and Michelle’s husband Adam. There were tears in everyone’s eyes at the reunion, and the long hug from Grace was the best thing ever and broke her heart at the same time. It was so restorative, so good, but she wasn’t going to get many more of them.
“Dan checked you in, here’s your key. He’s got the room on the other side of you, Blake’s on the other wall, we’re most of our corridor. Do you want to get some sleep and we’ll call you at noon?”
The first thing Em noticed about her room was the adjoining door between her room and Dan’s. She closed the lock gently to make sure she was completely alone. After that she napped fitfully, waking up to knocks on the door and yet more hugs. The day was spent going to the zoo, kids hanging out of her as she swung them around and gave piggybacks, feeling exactly like part of the family. Blake told her to take the day off for jet lag, and she wasn’t complaining.
That evening was filled with fun as the kids clung to her while she pulled out the first of so many presents. Chocolate first so she could see their faces eating proper chocolate rather than the Australian stuff that didn’t melt in the heat. The bag of duty free was quickly eaten between everyone, a movie on tv as she filled everyone in on what she had been doing. It wasn’t until after eight that Dan appeared wearing a suit.
“Ems! I thought you were coming with me tonight?” She looked up from where she’d been half dozing with Isabella curled up against her, taking in her best friend wearing a navy blue suit and white shirt.
“Coming to what? I’m taking today for jet lag. What’s tonight?”
“The AusGP reception. You always come!” Confusion was written all over his face and Em swallowed once, looking at him carefully.
“I said I wasn’t doing anything this year. I have to leave pretty much straight after the race, I don’t have time.”
“Emmy, please.” She hated that she couldn’t resist him when he did that, when her name curled around his accent like that.
“I don’t have anything to wear.” This was the closest they’d ever come to an argument in front of his family. Their eyes were going between them as if watching a tennis match.
“I got you something.”
“Dan, you can’t do that.” It was pointless to argue but she had to try make her point. She couldn’t just do everything because he wanted her to.
“I did. C’mon, it’s three hours and some schmoozing and we can come back so you can go to bed. He did his best impression of puppy dog eyes, lifting Isabella from her. “You want to see Auntie Emmy all glam and pretty, right Is?”
“Yeah! She’s always pretty.”
“You’re very right. I left the dress in your room, Ems. Please?”
“Fine.”
She said her goodbyes and went into her room, making sure the adjoining door was locked before going into shower and change. As she walked into the bathroom she thought she heard the door rattle but ignored it, forcing herself to take time to put herself together.
Years travelling around the world had taught her how to make herself look presentable in very little time, forcing her to learn how to do a blow dry with a hotel hairdryer. It took less than an hour to have hair and makeup perfectly done, a wrap around her shoulders and a pair of heels on her feet. The dress Dan had picked was perfect for her. It was lavender, knee length with a corset top, and her jewellery worked perfectly with it. He had taste when it wasn’t about party shirts. Once she was ready she picked up a clutch and knocked on Dan’s door. He opened the door confused, but ready to go.
“I thought you’d use the adjoining door? It’s why I got us these rooms.”
“I’m tired, Dan. Can we just get this over with?”
The launch was like anything else, an event to deal with. There were speeches and then wandering around the room, Dan’s hand hovering at her lower back but not quite touching her. She smiled as she was introduced as “meet Ems, she’s my best friend and my manager’s assistant who keeps my life on track”, even while her heart was breaking. But she kept her cool, finally managing to break away from Dan for a few minutes to chat to Ted and Natalie from Sky while Dan did the rounds.
“I didn’t know if you’d be here. I was talking to Michael yesterday, he said you weren’t in Perth with them,” Ted remarked as Em looked at the almost empty glass of champagne in his hand.
“Is this going to end up as gossip on the notebook if we talk?” Nat nearly snorted with laughter, Ted shaking his head with a chuckle.
“Nope. I’m drinking so I’m officially off work duties. Unless you have any gossip about things? Anything that I can attribute to an unnamed McLaren source?”
“I don’t work for McLaren, thankfully Zak doesn’t sign my paycheque. But no, I’ve got no gossip. There’s some family stuff happening so I have to head home pretty much as soon as the race is over. But I needed to see everyone, it’s been almost two years and I missed them.”
“Fair.” They chatted about the season so far, studiously ignoring the controversy around the last race, until Dan arrived back to make excuses and get them to leave the party.
“Back to the hotel?”
“You read my mind.”
The car ride back was the most awkward one the two of them had ever done and Em didn’t know what to do. Usually if they were in a car alone together they’d be curled into each other or at least holding hands. But she was on her side of the SUV, Dan was on his, and the hand she’d stretched into the middle as a peace offering was ignored. She didn’t know what she was supposed to do with that. Didn’t want to know, really. All his actions did was solidify that the painful decision she’d reached was the right one. Just because things could be easy didn’t mean they were right.
When they reached their floor in the hotel Dan stopped outside her hotel room as Em waved the keycard at the lock.
“Night, Dan.”
“But I thought…”
“What?” She was sharper than she should have been, but she was jet lagged and tired and heart sore.
“I thought we’d be sharing a room.”
“Your family are two doors down and the kids are here. The chances of at least one of them knocking on my door before I want to get up in the morning are high, and I don’t want to have to explain why we share a bed when we’re not married. Do you?”
“Not particularly.”
“Exactly. I’ll see you in the morning.”
As soon as the hallway door closed behind her she double checked the lock on the adjoining door before flipping over the door lock. If she’d looked out the peephole she would have seen a confused and disappointed Dan standing in the hallway.
The next few days passed in a haze of having the kids around, working, and ignoring Zak. She knew he was the original source of the rumours the year before, he was the one who got Mazepin to start spreading that she was sleeping with all three of her boys. It was her greatest pleasure to get to tell him no, and she did it with joy.
But in between finalising as much as she could before her resignation was sent she had time to wander Melbourne alone. She loved the city. It had always welcomed her in, it was Dan’s home race and the place where she knew everyone adored him. Em wandered around a craft market, finding a jewellery maker who made gold charms and engraved them on the spot. It took her all of ten seconds to buy two and get them put on different coloured leather cords, one each for Isaac and Isabella. The front had a pair of angel wings for each of her angel kids, and the engraving on the back read love you forever, Auntie Emmy. 
Leaving her family behind was going to be the hardest part of this, and she needed to make sure that they knew just how much she loved them. Em was so aware that she was about to be the first adult to choose to walk out of their lives, and she didn’t want to do that. She didn’t want to break their hearts the way hers would break too. She just hoped that when they realised she wasn’t coming back they’d know she wanted to tell them how much she loved them.
Practice and qualifying were shit and she felt her dislike of the team growing even stronger. She didn’t want to think about it, didn’t want to deal with the stupid orange team and the way that they were favouring Lando already. Dan was the one who won a race last year, not Lando. He was the one who had proven himself with podiums galore. But they didn’t care.
That night she left the door between their rooms unlocked. Her bags were half packed, her resignation email was scheduled to send and she’d triple checked the timezone on it. Em had spent the last two days hugging everyone as much as she could, surprising Chloe by popping into the Aston garage before a practice and waving to Lance and Seb as she pulled Chloe into a giant hug. Scotty got one too, trying to put the love and care she had for her best friends outside her boys into a hug. There were waves to the people she couldn’t hug because rumours would start, giving Susie a recommendation for the restaurant they all ate at the night before so she and Toto could have a family meal with Jack in privacy. The small things to make sure everyone knew she thought about them and loved them.
Em couldn’t sleep straight away. Nights before races were hard, the crashes she’d watched with her own two eyes usually playing in her head. Dan in Anthoine’s car, Dan in Grosjean’s. Dan in Lewis’s place the year before with no halo. Dan in the rain and a tractor on track. All the ways she knew people had died racing she thought about and she couldn’t deal. Her fear every time Dan slid into his seat in the car was all encompassing but racing was his first love and she could never ask him to stop.
She was about to get up and go down to Michael’s room to ask for some melatonin, but the doorknob between the two rooms rattled and clicked open quietly. Em stayed still as she was, breathing in and out steadily.
Dan slipped into the other side of the bed. If she just opened her eyes she’d be able to see him. If she reached her fingers out slightly she could touch him. It was the first time they’d shared a bed since Bahrain and being just over covid and she wanted him to hold her. Her body was screaming to curl into him and tell him she loves him and she’s his and she doesn’t want him to fall in love with anyone else because she wants him to love her. To choose her over all the models in the world he could have.
She didn’t sleep that night, too aware of his presence in the bed. She could hear his snores but she didn’t dare look up at him, didn’t dare move in case she disturbed him. He needed his sleep the night before a race.
As the morning dawned through crappy hotel curtains she could feel the vibrations from the alarm on his watch, the one he always used to try let her get some extra sleep when he needed to be up early.
Please kiss my forehead. Please, Dan. Please just give me any sign you want me to stay. Don’t leave me again.
Every morning was the same when they shared a bed. He’d delay until the very last minute to stay in the warmth and then kiss her forehead in goodbye. And then he’d leave, not content to get out from there until he made sure she knew he said goodbye.
This time he slid out of the bed without touching her, padding across the still room and going back into his. Em heard the lock slide shut on his side and rolled over, tears filling her eyes.
It hurt so much already, how was she supposed to pretend that everything was fine? How was she supposed to act normal around everyone when she wanted to scream that they were over and nothing would ever be the same again? How could she be okay when she felt like this? 
He’d left her alone. Again. He hadn’t even touched her but he’d slept in her bed and she never thought Dan could be so cruel. She never thought he’d leave her with the barest hint of his scent, that if she hadn’t been awake she wouldn’t have known he was there. The ache spread through her chest and she tried to quiet her sobs but it hurt. It hurt so, so badly.
A cold shower soothed her puffy face, getting rid of some of the usual redness while makeup did the rest. She was dressed in her usual race day gear of shorts, vans, a McLaren polo, and a Dan hat on her head by the time there was a knock on her door, Michael standing there.
“Hey, I’m heading in with Dan and Blake now. He said you’re going in with his family in an hour?” Another cut in her heart. More space between them. But she schooled her face into a smile, hoping Michael would believe everything was fine.
“Yeah. I said I wanted as much time with the kids as possible, it’s fine.  See you there?”
“See you there.”
Michael was a couple of metres away from her when she stepped into the hall, grabbing her room key from the slot just inside the door.
“Michael?” He turned and she half jogged, pulling him into a tight hug.
“What’s this for?”
“Haven’t seen you as much. You know you’re my brother, right? How lucky I am to have you as my family?”
“You’re the most annoying little sister Ems, but you’re my little sister. I’ve missed having you around.”
“Miss you too.”
She watched him walk away as step one of her goodbyes was done. The next was to go to breakfast with everyone and pretend that things were normal for the next few hours until the race was over. She could do it. She had to.
Breakfast with the extended Ricciardo clan was fun, Isabella still clinging to her and Isaac insisting on sitting beside her. She soaked up every moment she got with them, walking out to the car Dan had arranged holding Isabella on her hip.
“That’ll be you in a few years,” Michelle commented as Em struggled with the car seat buckle before getting it right. “The mother, not the cool aunt. We can swap places.”
Another stab to her already mangled heart. “I dunno. Wait and see, but I’m not sure that’s on the cards any time soon.” Considering the only man she wanted to have a child with didn’t want to be with her, it was a no.
You’ll be a good mother, Em. Plus you’ll have loads of family around.” She wanted to scream that she was leaving her family behind for good this afternoon but instead she just smiled tightly. It was too close to home. She couldn’t keep this conversation going. It hurt.
The race matched her mood. The strategy wasn’t good, the car was a tractor, and the oblique team orders to not let Dan try overtake Lando made her want to scream. The team points would be the same, but no. Not for his home race even. The crowd were amazing and let out loud cheers every time the orange car made its way around the circuit, but it wasn’t enough and Em knew it. It hurt. Her last time at a Grand Prix, her last time cheering for the man she was so deeply in love with, and the team and car had let him down again.
The plan was already to delay debrief till Monday so Dan got to spend time with his family, and Em decided to head to the airport nearly immediately. She couldn’t stay any longer. She couldn’t deal with any more hints from Michelle about a niece or nephew in the future, couldn’t listen to Grace or Joe talking about how much they’d missed her. She couldn’t spend more time with Blake and Michael without wanting to break down and tell them that they had changed her life and she wouldn’t make them choose between her and Dan.
Because that was what it came down to. She was the last one in this group that was all united by their love of Daniel Ricciardo. She was the one who loved him so deeply it hurt, the one who loved every single member of the group to the moon and to Saturn. And she loved them so much she couldn’t bear to have them walk away from her. Because that was what would happen.
Her own blood family didn’t choose her. They saw her as a disgrace, as a failure because she was thirty one years old, unmarried and without kids. They didn’t realise that she was the one who kept Dan on schedule, who organised sponsor events and filtered out the crap he and Blake didn’t need to know about. She stopped the balls from falling out of the sky. Because she was just an assistant.
And if the people who gave birth to her wouldn’t choose her, she knew the family she’d built wouldn’t either. She was never the one who was chosen, and she didn’t blame them. She was just Emma. Danny was Dan. She knew who she’d pick if given a quarter of a chance.
She’d just finished packing when the adjoining door opened, Dan walking in already speaking but stopping when he saw the case by the door, her carry on full with the edge of the orange poster getting folded in.
“Where are you going?” His tone was accusatory and she steeled herself for the argument.
“Home.”
“Emmy…”
“Don’t Emmy me, Daniel! You know I have to go back for the anniversary.” She turned to look at him, watching as confusion turned to anger.
“And I also know that’s bullshit. I’ve known you for how many years, Em? You’ve visited your parents twice. Michael was with you one of those times, the visit lasted twenty minutes and even he didn’t have anything nice to say about it. Michael. Who has a good thing to say about almost everyone. So tell me the truth, why are you leaving now? Why not get on the flight with us tomorrow?”
“Because I have to go back.”
“Don’t lie to me Em!” He raised his voice and Em gave as good as she got, staring back at him.
“You want the truth, Dan? All of it?”
“Yes! That’s all I want, it’s all I’ve ever wanted with you.”
She took a deep breath, staring into his brown eyes for the last time, soaking in that even so angry he was so beautiful. She’d had the privilege of sleeping with him for nearly four years, of loving him for three. Whoever got to do that next would be so incredibly lucky.
“You left me alone. The one thing I ever asked of you, the only thing I ever asked you to promise me was to never leave me alone. I begged you. Whatever was going on, whatever was happening with us, please don’t leave me alone. And then there were bombs flying and I watched one explode and you made me get into a car and leave. You made me stay alone, and you didn’t come back to me that night. I didn’t know what was happening. I didn’t know if you were even alive because I didn’t have my fucking phone until the next morning and all the news was in Arabic. You were gone to the track before I knew what had happened. You left. You broke your promise, Daniel.”
“I didn’t have a choice!” It was the worst thing he could have said.
“But Blake and Michael got to stay. Angela stayed with Lewis, don’t try to lie to me and tell me she didn’t. Britta stayed with Seb. You sent me away, Dan. I was sobbing and begging you to stay and you made Blake drive me away. You made me leave when I was scared.” She let her words sink into him fully. “Just leave. Get out of this room and leave.”
“Emmy…” His voice was soft and she blinked back the tears she knew she wanted to cry. Not until the airport. Not until then.
“GET OUT DAN!” She yelled at him for the first time, shock on his face. “JUST LEAVE! It’s what you’ve been doing this whole weekend, just leave.”
“Fine. Fine. If that’s what you want, I’m fucking gone. I’m done here, I’m gone. I’ll be downstairs in five for you to say goodbye to everyone.” She watched him walk through the adjoining door and lock it as Em’s heart completely broke in two. She’d ruined it. He was done. He was gone. He was leaving and she was going and she would never speak to him again because her Daniel wasn’t hers anymore. One person down, eight to go.
She brought her bags down to the lobby alone, everyone standing there waiting to say goodbye. Michael got a hug, she’d said everything she needed to earlier that day. Blake was beside him, wrapping her in a full body giant one and holding her tight.
“You know I love you, don’t you? I really love you.” Blake grinned and pulled her close again.
“Love you too, Ems. Moving beside you was the best decision I ever made.”
Saying goodbye to Michelle and Adam was hugs and whispers of seeing them for Christmas when she knew it was a lie. Grace pulled her into a hug that only a mother figure could, whispering in her ear.
“We’re coming over for Silverstone and yours and Dan’s birthdays, so we’ll see you then. We love you Em. If you need anything I’m only a FaceTime away. Don’t let them get you down when you’re with your family.”
“I love you too, Grace.”
Joe got a hug and a murmured love you, his hand patting her back soothingly. The kids were last, sulking as Em squatted down in front of them.
“So I got my angels a present to say goodbye, cause I know I didn’t get to see you lots. Want to see them?” There were identical nods and Em strapped the bracelets on, Isaac’s on a black cord and Isabella’s on a purple one.
“It matches the one I made you and Uncle Dan,” Isabella murmured as Em pulled her into a tight hug.
“It does. It’s a reminder that I love you both so very, very much. No matter how far away we are, I’m always going to love you, okay? Don’t ever, ever forget that. Pinkie promise me?” She held out her little fingers, laughing as they both enthusiastically took part in the ritual. She pulled them in for a final hug, pressing kisses to both of their heads.
“See you on winter break!” Isaac grinned as he spoke, Em putting a tight smile on her face. 
“We call it summer break, but I’ll see what we have to do then buddy.”
“Do you want a lift to the airport? I’ve got the rental?” Joe asked but Em shook her head.
“Nah, I’m good. I’ve got an Uber coming, I just want to get on the road. It’s hard enough to say goodbye to everyone I can’t drag it out much longer.”
“Fair. Love you, kiddo.”
“Love you too, Joe.” Her phone buzzed with the notification that her driver was there and she started towards the door. Dan still hadn’t come down and that was it. He didn’t love her. He didn’t feel anything like how she did because no matter what he’d said, he’d never make her leave. But she made him leave. He was gone.
She was almost at the door when an oh too familiar voice called across the lobby, running up to them. 
“I didn’t think you’d be leaving already.”
“My Uber’s outside, I need to leave.”
“Oh.” There was none of their usual hugs, none of the subtle kisses he pushed to the top of her head when they were separated. He didn’t even squeeze her fingers. It was like they were strangers. “Send a text when you get to London?”
“Yeah, sure.”
She turned to get her luggage into the car, shielding her face from everyone with her hair. The driver lifted it in and she was soon safely ensconced in the back seat, tears falling down her cheeks as she waved goodbye behind partially tinted glass.
“Was that Daniel Ricciardo?” The driver asked, Em forcing a smile.
“Yeah, I work with him.” It was true for another five hours at least.
“He seems like a good guy.”
“He’s one of the best.”
Tears streamed down Em’s cheeks the entire way to the airport, through the fancy check in area and security, and following her into her first class pod. She mostly ignored the staff apart from nodding at them, continuing to cry and wipe her eyes on tissues. The tears barely stopped until Dubai, only aided by Blake’s near constant texts as soon as her email sent.
She knew when she arrived in London that she had about twelve hours before the boys landed, Blake texting even while he was on his flights. She sent a I got back safely, receiving another flurry of responses.
Em, what’s this email about?
What’s going on?
Tell me you didn’t mean to send this
Is it the travel? Do you want to slow down? Why?
Ems we need you. How am I supposed to tell everyone you’re not coming with us anymore? Did you meet someone? Did something happen?
We’re about to land in Heathrow. Dan’s going to his place and looks miserable. I’ll be at your door in less than two hours.
When she got the final text Em grabbed the bags she’d hastily packed with clothes and the things she needed for the next eight days until the boys had left London for Imola. The address of the last minute airbnb was in her email, getting an Uber to it handy. She was long gone by the time Blake arrived, sitting in her temporary home for the next while and planning what she had to do. They’d leave England on the Wednesday, she had five days to empty her flat.
It started with an email to her landlord to give up the lease. Her family reasons excuse was accepted quickly, the landlord told she had to leave London and the apartment would be vacant from the end of the month. After that she had to start planning on where to go to.
There were too many memories in London. Nearly every street reminded her of Dan, of days walking around hand in hand to show him her London, not the tourist one he knew. The city she’d moved to at eighteen with a dream and a student loan and where she’d discovered who she was. Dan was everywhere in the city for her - memories of their first kiss in the pub she’d spent too many hours in, museums she’d dragged him to, streets he’d stolen a kiss from her at with a grin and a chuckle when they were waiting to cross the road. The cafes and greasy spoons she’d brought him to with the promise of not telling Michael. She couldn’t stay there, it was too much.
But everywhere she thought of had memories of him. Filthy weekends away when they were at home because of covid, eating out to help out and driving to Manchester or Glasgow to spend time together and have hotel sex. The midlands were completely out because of Silverstone, of memories of Enstone and the Renault factory, of Milton Keynes and his goodbye from Red Bull.
The only big city she could think of without a memory of Dan - with only one memory of her boys - was Liverpool. Which meant her parents. Which meant a conversation she never wanted to have. Calling her mother wasn’t like calling Grace. But she didn’t have Grace in her life anymore, so she had to do it.
“Emma, what country do you deign to call us from today?” Her mother answered the phone, disdain dripping from every word.
“Good morning, Mother. I’m in England. I was calling because I need to ask for a favour from you.”
“Yes?”
Em swallowed, teeing up words on her too thick tongue. “I had to leave my job, they didn’t have the funding to keep me on. I was wondering if I could move home for a few weeks while I’m applying for new jobs. I want to leave motorsports, there’s too much travelling and I want to settle down.” She hit every keyword that her mother had as she checked her bank account balance, spotting her final pay deposited in the account. It was more than healthy thanks to travelling so much for work and Dan covering that under work expenses. But she needed to be sensible, and renting somewhere without a job would be a mistake.
“You can. You will need to pay rent while you’re here.”
“Of course. Just let me know how much. It wont be for long, it’s just a few weeks. It’ll be like I won’t even be there, if I’m not interviewing I’ll be in my bedroom.”
“Fine. Let me know when you plan to arrive.” She sounded bored of the conversation already.
“I’ll be back April twenty fourth. I can send you the train details then.
“See you then.”
The difference between the call with her mother and a call with Grace just cut the wound in her chest even harder. Grace never let a call end without a million “I love you”s between them. She made sure that Em spoke to everyone in the family, and if Joe was out at the garage she took a message and told Em that he loved her. Instead her mother hadn’t even asked if Em wanted to leave a message for her father.
It felt so, so wrong.
The list of things she had to do before the boys left for Italy was beginning to shrink, but there was still so much to do. She ignored Blake and Michael’s texts, refusing to even open them. The chats were archived so the red dots didn’t irritate her. Dan didn’t send her anything at all, yet more proof that he meant everything he said in Melbourne. He was done with her. She didn’t realise that emotional pain could hurt this much. She’d never believed in soulmates, never believed in fate. She always thought that if a relationship ended she’d get through it. But now? This not quite a relationship over? It ached to her core.
Friday morning she had an appointment with a solicitor, walking in with a tear stained sheet of what she wanted to leave to different people. She’d always fought with Dan about being prepared if something happened to him, not wanting to know what he left her. She was one of the two people who could decide what medical treatment he got if he couldn’t consent. She’d cried when he told her that day in Spa when they got that tragic news what he wanted if he was in a crash like that. That he trusted her to not let him stay on machines. Some of her nightmares included his plaintive “I don’t want false hope” that made her ache.
She didn’t trust her parents to not do the same for her. They’d keep her hooked up to machines for as long as possible, they’d insist it was for “hope”. Em didn’t know what hope, but she knew them. They’d barely spoken for five years apart from occasional texts and birthday cards, they didn’t have the right to decide what happened to her.
It was a blustery Friday morning when she walked into that office and signed the papers to say Daniel Ricciardo, Blake Friend, and Michael Italiano were the people who decided what would happen if she couldn’t make her own medical decisions. She gave the lawyer the makeshift will that was handwritten and tearstained. It was simple - her cookbooks and exercise equipment to Michael because he was always trying to adapt her recipes. All but one piece of her furniture to Blake. Her CDs and DVDs to Dan, along with the coffee table he kept falling over. Her collection of Dan’s raceworn helmets to Isaac and Isabella. Dan, Grace, and Michelle were to divide her jewellery between them based on who wanted what. The rest of her belongings were to be sold and the money put in Isaac and Isabella’s college funds. It was too easy.
Even after everything that had happened, even after walking away, she trusted her boys more than she trusted anyone else in the world.
After all of that her final task was to organise her storage unit and movers. That was easiest of all if Em was honest. A call to a moving company who agreed to put everything in the unit without her there, and walking into a storage company. She signed a two year contract and paid the full rent then and there, surprising the man at the counter. Now she was able to disappear.
The texts kept coming from Blake and Michael. WhatsApp and iMessage, even a signal account she’d forgotten she had on her phone. Michael sent her instagram DMs so she deleted the app instead of trying to avoid reading them and appearing online. But finally it was Wednesday and she knew exactly when the boys were flying out of London City Airport. She’d organised the private flight for them, booked the plane and made sure the flight was as clean as possible. As soon as they’d take off her plan could start.
Walking back into her apartment felt too normal, just checking her post and finding it mostly full of letters from Blake. Get in touch, we’re worried, we miss you. Sentiments she knew he’d share but it would be easy for him to forget about her. The letters went out in recycling and she began to pack up her life.
The boxes were settled easily. Storage, donating, and Dan’s stuff. The ones for him filled quickly, clothes and accessories and things he’d left lying around the apartment that had become theirs instead of just hers. It took three boxes to get rid of the sense of him.
The storage boxes were easier, but the final thing she had to do at four that Sunday morning was decide what to do with her helmet wall. Ever since Monaco and his win, Dan had given her his race worn helmet for any new race design. She could name which race each of them was from, and in the middle was her Monza win one. McLaren had wanted it for the MTC but Dan refused to give it over, insisting it was his and he was keeping it. They got the trophy so he got the helmet. And then he put it in the middle of the IKEA shelves that they’d spent a weekend putting together and laughing.
Part of her - a large part if she was truly honest - wanted to donate them. Get rid of them for the clean break she insisted she needed. But she couldn’t. They were the good parts of the last four years, the best part of her life and the reminder that for years she got to love Daniel Ricciardo and travel the world with her best friends. Once she was settled somewhere she’d put them all back up to get her and explain to whoever asked that she was a part of Formula One for a short while, and it meant so much to her.
It took longer than she expected to get them wrapped carefully and boxed away. Two just about fit in one box, but they were light at least. When they were carefully labelled with the races, a tear falling from her eye when she wrote Monaco 2018 on a box in looping letters, she sat down to write notes to her boys. They deserved more than a resignation email and leaving without saying goodbye but if she saw them in person she wouldn’t walk away. She was barely strong enough to do that the first time. Em couldn’t do it again.
Dan’s took the longest. It started with anger. How could you make me love you when you didn’t love me back scrawled angrily, tears staining the lined pages as she wrote everything. But she couldn’t give it to him how she’d written it. She couldn’t deliberately hurt him. It wasn’t Dan’s fault that she’d fallen in love with a man who couldn’t love her back the way she wanted him to love her. It was her fifth draft, still tear stained, that was the one she was giving him.
Danny,
I’m sorry I didn’t say this in person but I couldn’t do it. We both know that things between us haven’t been working for a while. It’s nobody’s fault. I guess we just wanted different things. It happens to us all. But we’re both done and writing this is easier than another long conversation and another fight.
Go be happy. I’ll cheer you on from wherever I end up, no matter what. You’ve changed so many lives, mine included. Thank you for the amazing years and experiences. You let me do things that so few people ever get to do and I can’t thank you enough for that.
Emma
Michael and Blake’s were harder and easier. She only needed one attempt at them, trying to wipe the tears before they fell.
Blakey,
I’m sorry for leaving like this. I’m sorry for leaving you in the lurch, but I made sure that everything logistically is booked until the summer break. Just get him where he needs to be on time, you were always better at that than me.
I love you. You’re my big brother and i wasn’t going to make you choose between me and Dan, that was never going to be fair. I’ll be happy and I want you to be happy too. Find a girl and settle down or bring her around the world. I’m rooting for you the entire time.
Will you make sure everyone in the paddock knows I love them? Tell Chloe and Scotty to get their wedding planned. Chloe will be the most beautiful bride and I’m so sorry I won’t get to see her in person. Scotty will look ok, I guess.
Thank you for everything.
Love,
Ems
PS - the extra key is for my storage unit. A1 Storage in Wimbledon. Figured you’d be a good person to have it.
She folded Blake’s letter into an envelope and labelled it before writing the last one. Somehow this was the hardest, having to ask Michael to do what she couldn’t.
Mike,
I’m sorry for leaving and I’m sorry for asking you to pass a message on but I know you will. I love you so much. You made lockdown bearable even when I was being a bitch, and you made me actually enjoy exercising you cruel man.
Tell everyone that I love them and I’m sorry? You let me know exactly what a family is and how I deserve to be loved and that’s something I can never thank you enough for. Ever. I can’t make people decide between me and Dan. He wins every time and that’s how it’s supposed to be. It’s easier if I just leave.
Tell Grace and Joe I love them and I will forever be grateful for their love and support. Let Michelle know that she’s the best big sister ever. Please make sure that Isaac and Isabella know that I love them no matter what. It’s not their fault I left and I will always love them. Whoever gets to be their auntie is the luckiest person in the world and I wish it got to be me.
Tell all your family I love them, and ti voglio bene to Nadia and your Nana. I love you all so much, and I’m cheering you all on from wherever I end up.
Love,
Em
When the movers came she handed them the key to the storage unit, letting them know what to do. Everything was out of the apartment in a few moments and Em took a last look around her almost empty apartment. The memories were suffocating. Dan tripping over the coffee table, the London lockdown when they got back from Australia and they lied to Michael about what the yoga mat’s primary purpose was. The way Dan danced with her in the dark kitchen, distracting her from finding food for them in the fridge and getting them to sway in the silence. The kisses and living together like he loved her the same way she loved him.
He’d been blowing up her voicemail since Wednesday and she deleted them I listened to. The first “Emmy” hurt her too much, so she decided to practice self preservation for once. As soon as her voicemail said “you have an unlistened to voicemail from Dan” it was deleted. The same with Blake and Michael. She couldn’t do it.
Finally it was time to leave, and she carried Dan’s boxes one at a time into Blake’s apartment. The three were stacked one atop the other, the letters on top of them. Em stared at her thumb, at the moon ring that had been there since Dan bought it for her calling her his moon on dark nights. She couldn’t bear to take off the three necklace hanging on her chest, but this she had to leave behind. She wasn’t his moon, and he was too bright to be her sun.
She slipped it off and rubbed her finger against the warm gold, pushing a kiss to it before stepping back. The final thing she needed to do was leave the envelope with her medical power papers and will on Blake’s coffee table before she locked the front door and slipped his keys in his post box. It was done. She was gone.
The tube to Euston was quicker than expected and she joined the trek to the Liverpool train, settling into her seat a few minutes before they were due to pull out. Her phone lit up with a notification that the race was about to start, illuminating the photo from lockdown of her and Dan holding Isaac and Isabella. They looked like a family. Em unlocked her phone and pushed her thumb firmly down on the F1 app to delete it. A clean break.
The train pulled off exactly at two, her mind echoing Crofty’s “lights out and away we go”. Dan was in the car and racing and all she wanted was a good points finish for him. But she couldn’t check. She couldn’t let herself find out what he was doing.
Her tears fell harder as the train pulled into Milton Keynes, the memories of the last time she’d done this train journey as Dan’s plus one. His leaving Red Bull party, staying in a hotel with him the week before they flew to Perth for Christmas. It was the only time she’d gotten to visit the impressive Red Bull factory. Meeting Max properly, Christian cornering her with his wife - and keeping her cool around Geri fucking Halliwell - to ask if she could convince Dan to come back. Getting whisked away from Helmut quickly when he tried to speak to her, meeting the mechanics and team that she’d seen at several races properly for once. Yet another place she could never visit again because all she’d think about was Dan.
Em made herself stop crying shortly after, pushing a cold bottle of water to her eyes. She couldn’t be red eyed or puffy seeing her parents. It was bad enough returning with her tail between her legs. She didn’t know if she’d survive the I told you so.
*
When Dan got out of the car in Imola he knew what he had to do. His first stop was being weighed and getting his slip, Mike pushing one of those AG1 drinks into his hand to down to get electrolytes and water back into him. After that it was media rounds, apologising to Carlos, and doing media. Once the debrief was finished it was London. He needed to get to Emmy. For the second time he’d gotten on a plane when he should have been with her and he needed to apologise. Needed to make things right.
“The jet will be ready when we finish? I need to get back to London tonight.” Michael handed him a McLaren branded shirt and pair of skinny jeans to put on once he was out of the shower.
“It’ll be ready. Mate, you need to know that she might not want—“
“She’ll see me. It’s Em. She’s my Emmy. She’s going to see me and I’m going to tell her everything. I can’t do this without her. I can’t. I dunno how I did it before.”
“Ok. Go shower and head out.”
The debrief was painful. Lando on the fucking podium, Dan last. They wrote off his technical debrief after the collision. It was clear Dan couldn’t have done anything, and the rest of his race was nothing to write home about. He should have just retired. It was shit and he just had to listen to how Lando had a flawless race and was extracting the most out of the tractor McLaren had built. He had to wait until it was over, half listening and taking notes while stewing.
All he could think about was Emmy. He hadn’t reached out because he thought she needed space, wanted time. He’d had the fucking ring in his pocket in the hotel room and then they’d fought and he couldn’t exactly get on one knee and ask her to marry him after that. But now she was gone and she’d been gone for weeks and he didn’t know. He needed her to be ok. He needed to go home and see her on the couch and beg for her forgiveness because he was hers. His apartment was so fucking lonely, driving in and out of the factory without seeing her. Without going to sleep curled up beside her and waking up with the fairy lights glowing as she read whatever dog eared book she was rereading that month.
The voicemails were being listened to. Her inbox went from full to empty and he kept texting, determined to get through to her. Needing her to talk to him. To say anything at all. People kept asking where she was, he laughed it off and gave the excuse of family stuff. Natalie had nodded and said she hoped Em would be back soon. Chloe had looked at him oddly when she heard the excuse but he shrugged and moved on. The elder Stroll could be terrifying and he didn’t want to get on her bad side. Not even Scotty could save him from that.
There was nothing he could do but wait to be freed. The moment they were able to break - after Dan apologised to the mechanics for the job they’d have to do on the car - he was on his way to the driver room. Blake and Michael were already there with bags packed and ready to go.
It was a two hour flight to London and they landed at nine. After forcing their way through traffic in a black cab it was after nine thirty by the time they arrived at Blake and Em’s building. Dan stepped out of the car and grabbed his bags, heading straight upstairs to the two identical doors. He didn’t realise when it became more normal to stand in front of Em’s door than Blakes, but it had years before. He knocked twice to no response.
“Em? I’ve got my key, I’m coming in.”
The lock turned easily with the familiar key and Dan set his bags down to flick the light switch. What he saw terrified him.
The room was empty. The couch that killed his back, the coffee table his shins hated, gone. The bookshelves and the kitchen table they’d spent a lockdown day building, gone. Her helmet collection was missing. Em had once told him that if the building went on fire she would save whichever helmets she could. If they were gone, she was gone.
He ran to her bedroom but everything was missing. The fairy lights they’d taped up with double sided tape. Her bed. The throw cushions he laughed about. Even the case at the bottom of her wardrobe with the lingerie he’d bought her was gone. Her pink boots weren't there. It was like nobody had lived there for years. He couldn’t even smell her perfume in the air.
“Dan?” He hadn’t realised tears were streaming down his face when he turned to see his best mates standing in the doorway. “Mate, you need to see this.”
He followed them back to Blakes, pausing to lock Emmy’s front door. She had to come back. The idea that she wouldn’t come back was impossible.
Until he saw the boxes.
Three of them, neatly stacked almost up to Blake’s chest. There were three envelopes on them, and a glint of gold on top of one. He nearly ran to it, ignoring the post race soreness going through his body to see the ring he’d given her sitting on top of the one neatly labelled Daniel.
She’d used his first name. Emmy never used his first name unless something was wrong. He’d fucked up so badly that he didn’t want to open it.
Instead he held the ring firmly in his palm, the metal cold against his hand. She was there. She had been there and now she was gone and he didn’t know what to do. But instead he followed what Blake and Michael had done and opened his letter.
It was how impersonal it was that killed him. Em was done. She’d be fine. Thanking him for bringing her around the world and letting her work with him. She didn’t want another fight and she thought he was done with her.
She didn’t love him like he loved her and for a brief moment that made him want to die. The moments they’d shared, the times they’d said they loved each other. The times he’d held her and traced I love you down her back or against her clit when he was eating her out, desperate for her to know but too afraid to say it. The 'y’know, right?'. Everything from the last nearly four years. None of it had ever mattered because she wouldn’t have married him. He had her ring in his fucking ever present backpack and thank God he hadn’t tried to propose because she’d have said no and he’d have been humiliated.
“I guess you were right. Buying the ring was a mistake.”
His choked voice broke the silence, but it was Michael who got the next sentence in, cutting off Blake’s question about the ring.
“Mate, what the fuck are you talking about?”
“She doesn’t love me like I love her. I was wrong. I just got my heart broken so please, don’t rub it in right now?”
“Did you read any of what she wrote?”
“Yeah. She’s done. She thanked me for letting her travel with us. Like she didn’t earn her place. She signed it Emma. I was wrong, ok? I was wrong and I can’t take you rubbing it the fuck in when I think Im gonna break.”
“What happened? Because the two of you were fine in Bahrain, and then after Saudi she disappeared and skipped Perth, and she was barely in Melbourne. What happened with you?” Blake was the one who asked, Dan flopping on the couch beside him. He held out his much shorter letter for them to read.
“Things were weird when we got back after Christmas. Then we had covid and got through it. And Saudi fucking happened. With everything going on and keeping her safe I didn’t see her till after the race and she was already leaving. And in Melbourne we… We had a fight.” The memories of what he’d said were circling again, the anger between them, Em telling him to leave again. Him walking away.
“We thought that much. You didn’t even hug her goodbye.”
“She told me to leave!”
“In self preservation.” Michael’s voice was low and Dan was almost afraid of his best friend. “She said she didn’t want to make us choose between you and her, that she knew we’d pick you. So she left. I have to tell your fucking family she’s gone, by the way. She asked me to. So you’re going to tell me everything that’s happened between the two of you and we’re going to fix this. What the fuck did you do?”
He wanted to be annoyed that he was being blamed but he couldn’t blame the boys. So he let everything out.
He told them about wanting to kiss her in Blake’s that first night, of Monaco and their agreement that it was over once she left Monaco. Coffee and Silverstone and her birthday drinks. Spa and I love you when they were faced with the reality of what could happen with his job again. Em begging him to never leave her behind, that no matter what he wouldn’t leave her alone. Her dick of an ex who’d destroyed her self-esteem and meant she lost her friends. The meaning of 'Y’know, right?', the phrase that had been their mantra since 2019. That he hadn’t slept with anyone else since he’d met her because he just knew she was supposed to be his. That he’d bought the ring when they spent Christmas 2020 together but was just waiting for the right moment. And then in Saudi she’d been sobbing and he sent her away. He made Blake take her away from him. From them. He’d broken his fucking promise and again in Australia he walked away when he should have stayed in that room.
She’d picked the fight. She’d picked it so she’d be left alone and leave and the realisation of how well she fucking knew him hurt so much. She knew him like the palm of her hand and for a minute he forgot about it.
“Let me get this straight. You’ve known just how shit her family is for longer than any of us, and I’m the only one who’s actually met them. She asked for exactly one thing from you which was don’t leave her alone. And in Saudi, one of the countries she’s most scared of being away from us for any length of time, you made her go back to the hotel and stay there on her own. She begged you to stay and was sobbing and you left her to cry when she asked you to stay? I could fucking punch you right now.” He nodded at Michael’s words, shame filling every cell in his body.
“You made us leave her alone.” Blake spoke and Dan thought he was going to be sick. “In Melbourne. The morning of the race. 'Em’s going with my parents. She wants family time.' She didn’t know she was going with them, did she? Why?”
“She… I… No. We weren’t ok. I didn’t know if I could be in the car with her. Not after that night.”
“What happened?”
“I… Fuck. She kept the door between our rooms locked that whole week. But Saturday night it wasn’t locked. I had a habit of just trying it, just in case. It was open and I went in. I just lay down on the edge of the bed and watched her sleep for a while before falling asleep. I left before she woke up. She didn’t know, she was asleep the whole time.”
“You think our Ems was asleep for a full night before a fucking race? Are you an idiot? Did you get brain damage in that crash today? She doesn’t fucking sleep! You slept in the same bed as her for four fucking years and you don't know that? She’s into me for melatonin every damn night because she can’t sleep worrying about you. She was awake that entire night and you left her without saying a goddamn word and then you abandoned her again. Again, Dan. Don’t tell me you did something stupid and cheated on her like her fucking ex.”
“I never cheated. I haven’t touched another woman.” The thought made him sick. “I’m not that asshole. You know I’m not.”
“I don’t mean to be funny Dan. She lived beside me for nearly five years. She’s my friend. And now her apartment is for rent, your shit is here, and she’s told us all goodbye and to give messages to the people she loves. So you might not have cheated on her, but you broke her. It took us four years to help Em feel like herself again and put her pieces back together and you broke her.” Blake was opening another envelope mixed in with the post on his coffee table that Em had left in as he spoke, eyes widening slightly. Before he could get the words out Michael had to.
“You’re telling your family, by the way.” His voice was solid, a way Dan had never heard before. “She asked me to tell them but I can’t. I can’t break those kids hearts and tell them their auntie Emmy loves them forever but she can’t see them again. I can’t tell your sister that she’s lost a sister, and I can’t tell your parents that you ran off the woman they want you to marry. That the woman your mum teaches family recipes to had to leave, because you fucked up that much. You know she’s their second daughter, right? Even before whatever the fuck you’ve been doing started they adored her. From Monaco. Em’s lost the only decent mother she’s ever had because of you. She didn’t want to make us choose but if she was here right now I’d choose her over you any day.”
“If you think she doesn’t love you, read this.” Blake held out a package of papers, Dan skimming them.
Everyone in his line of work was familiar with leaving a will behind. The fucking academies basically demanded it at this point. He’d put Emmy on his own medical power of attorney form after Spa, told her what he was leaving her when she was ready for that conversation after Roman nearly died in Bahrain. 
But Emma wasn't racing cars every weekend, so she didn't need the papers she signed. She didn't need to leave a will behind, but his name was there to make decisions for Em. She’d left him specific things. The cold fear snaked up his spine, tightening around his lungs and making it hard to breathe.
“She wouldn’t. She won’t do anything stupid. It’s Em, she wouldn’t.” The words came out as a rush but certain. She wouldn’t hurt herself. God, he couldn’t live with himself if she did.
“It’s probably just a precaution. But Jesus Christ, Dan. She’s gone. We have no idea where she is, we don’t even know what country she’s in. We don’t know what kind of head start she has and with the amount of frequent flier miles she has she could be anywhere. We can probably cross off here and Australia, but that doesn’t take away much.” 
“I need to leave.” Dan turned to see Michael pick up his bag. “I’ll call you when I’m ready to talk. I’ll email you workout plans. She’s my fucking sister, Dan. She’s my little sister and I trusted you knew what you were doing with her. She said goodbye to me and I didn’t even know. You… I can’t look at you right now. I’m this close to quitting too because I don’t know you anymore. The Dan I grew up with? He would have said something. He wouldn’t make the woman he kept saying he was going to make his wife run away. He wouldn’t make her feel unloved. Just work out what you’re going to do. I’ll be on the plane to Miami but I don’t know if I’ll see you before then.” Dan watched as his oldest friend, the man he’d known since primary school, who’d supported him through thick and thin, walked out of the apartment into the London night.
“She’s gone. She’s really gone and she’s not coming back. I… I have to find her, Blake. I can’t do this without her.”
“You need to work out what you’re doing. You need to tell your family she’s gone. You need to do your job. We’re all hurting right now and yeah your heart is breaking. But its my job to do tough love and tell you that you need to work first and then think about her.” He stared at Blake in shock. “I’m pissed. But work first. Em somehow managed to take everything off my plate when she was leaving, because she didn’t want to make things hard on me. Go home, Dan. I have to call Chloe Stroll and tell her Em’s not coming back.”
“Not yet. Please. Let me f—“
“I’m telling her. You can hide it from the media, from your family, whatever. Chloe is Em’s best friend outside us. Do you really think she hasn’t tried calling Em already? Really?” Dan nodded once. “Go home. Your place, not the empty apartment next door you called home. Go home and get your shit together. Em would kill you if you fucked up a race over her.”
Dan got an Uber on his phone, taking his bags downstairs along with his letter from Em. He slipped the moon ring onto his little finger, settling it just above the sun. He needed her back. He just didn’t know how to find her.
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little-diable · 10 months
Text
Our secret - Carlisle Cullen (smut)
This is very unhinged, but what did we expect, it's me writing this after all. Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this! Enjoy my loves. xxx
Summary: When Carlisle comes home after a long shift at the hospital, he's desperate for some kind of relief. Who would have thought that he'd stumble upon a streaming website, watching the stream of a very familiar face, (y/n) – Jasper's girlfriend.
Warnings: 18+, smut, masturbation (f&m), oral (f), piv, cheating, power play, choking, spanking, degrading, dom!Carlisle
Pairing: Carlisle Cullen x fem!reader, brief Jasper Hale x fem!reader (2.2 k words)
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A heavy sigh left Carlisle as he found his way to his office, thankful for the darkness that lingered in the mansion, allowing himself to finally relax. While the others were out hunting, he had been working another late shift at the hospital, making it home by 3 am. Those were the nights where he longed for his human past, wanting to feel the wave of tiredness he had once known all too well, centuries ago that had faded like the seasons passing by. 
He opened his laptop, eyes flickering to the dark forest, wondering how much longer he’d get to cherish the quietness of their home. Quick typing brought him to the website he was looking for, leaning back in his chair with a small grin tugging on his lips. 
For the past weeks he had visited a streaming website he had found one night, desperate for the kind of relief not even blood could give him, needing to give into his most primitive urges. He felt his cock harden in his trousers, barely anticipating the videos he’d get to watch, the moans he’d get to listen to. Fuck, this was one of those few moments where he actually felt human again, feeling like a young boy without any experience, driven by his needs. 
It took him a few moments to find a stream to settle on, animated by the dark room, the fairy lights hung in the back, and the soft music echoing through the woman’s room. So far he couldn’t make out her body, wondering what she was doing out of the frame, if she was waiting for more people to join. His hand freed his cock, slowly pumping to adjust to the sensation, excited to see a new face today. 
Movement could be heard on her end of the stream, and without another warning a female frame entered the screen, sitting down on her bed, right in front of the camera. A heavy gasp left Carlisle as his eyes took in the all too familiar features. His hand had stopped moving, unable to keep on going as he studied the girl he had crossed paths with numerous times before, (y/n) – Jasper’s girlfriend. 
Fuck, he should close the website, should forget that he had ever seen her with barely any clothes on – and yet he didn’t dare move. Carlisle had always found himself drawn to her, wanting to keep her to himself, wondering why she had ended up with Jasper after all, but he’d never dare to interfere, not set on destroying Jasper’s relationship. 
“I missed you all!” Her soft voice coaxed a groan out of Carlisle, and all he could do was watch how she slowly undressed, speaking to the people commenting on her videos and leaving tips. His hand had started moving after a few moments, getting over the first initial shock with a smirk widening on his lips.
And as (y/n)’s moans guided him towards the edge, making Carlisle think of her, she was located on the other side of Forks, trembling for the people watching her stream, with her mind set on a certain blonde doctor, rather than her boyfriend. 
……
Ever since Carlisle had stumbled upon (y/n)’s stream, he had found himself returning to her website at any given chance, hidden from curious eyes and ears, very well knowing that he was walking a thin line. He had grown bolder over time, no longer hiding amongst those that simply watched but didn’t interact, but leaving comments here and there, changing his username to something she might recognise, if she paid enough attention. 
He didn’t know what it was, and yet Carlisle didn’t want to break from the spell she had cast upon him. By now he knew every inch of her naked body, longing to touch the soft skin, praying to the God he had once loved that she wouldn’t ever return to his home, unsure how he’d react to seeing her again, with Jasper around. 
Carlisle knew that he had to be careful, well aware of Edward’s powers, able to read his every thought. And yet Carlisle had mastered building up a mental stone wall over the past centuries, able to hide his every need from those that looked up to him, clinging to the father figure that had a pure heart and soul, at least that’s what he forced them to believe. 
"Carlisle?" Jasper’s voice ripped him out of his thoughts, eyes flickering up from his book to meet the golden eyes of Jasper. With a smile tugging on his lips, Carlisle closed his book, freezing as another frame appeared next to Jasper. (Y/n) had her lips pulled into a wide smile, eyes meeting Carlisle’s. Jasper didn’t seem to notice the way Carlisle’s demeanor had changed, ushering (y/n) into the office. “(Y/n) burned herself this morning, and it won’t stop hurting. Would you mind looking at it while we go out to hunt?”
“No, of course not. She’s in good hands, don’t worry.” Carlisle averted his gaze as Jasper turned towards (y/n) with a smile, kissing his girlfriend goodbye. The doctor reached for his bag, pulling out a few things he’d need to take care of her wound. A thick silence hung in the air, so thick one could wrap it around their body in the cold winter morning, protected from the icy wind. 
“Come, take a seat.” Carefully he guided her closer, waiting for her to settle on the chair. The blonde haired doctor towered over her, touching her arm to take in the wound. Neither of them dared to speak up, but while Carlisle tried to focus on her wound, (y/n) couldn’t help but admire the doctor, tongue darting out to wet her lips. 
“You know,” she whispered the words, watching the man halt in his movements. “It took me a while to pick up on it. At first I didn’t think it was you, but then.” The rest of the sentence was left unsaid, stuck in her throat as his eyes met hers, forcing all air from her lungs. Carlisle leaned back, finding rest with his hips leaned against his table, studying the woman for a few moments. Shallow breaths left her, teeth leaving nervous bite marks on her lower lip, unable to see through the man’s almost emotionless facade. 
“Did you tell him?” She quickly shook her head, hand darting out to reach for Carlisle’s hand, making them both freeze. The cold he emitted clashed against the heat pumping through her body. For the past weeks (y/n) had wondered how to address the topic, unable to bite down the need she felt to be touched by the man, wanting to feel his body pressed against hers. 
“If I’m being honest, every time I’ve been streaming I thought of you, and I know it’s wrong, but I can’t stop myself.” With her breath hitched in her chest she watched Carlisle break out in a deep, raspy laugh, hand finding her cheek, cupping her warm skin. Her body followed his every command, pulled to her feet, into his chest. For a few seconds they froze, listening to the alarm going off inside their heads, reminding them how wrong this was – whatever they were about to do. But their bodies forced them to continue, lips meeting in a rough kiss. 
Jasper had never kissed her like this, had always tried to be careful with her, hoping that his alter ego wouldn’t take over his system, scared of leaving marks that wouldn’t fade. It seemed as if Carlisle wasn’t held back by any fear, any daunting thoughts, allowing himself to claim an already claimed woman. 
“I need to taste you, need to hear those pretty moans you always make.” What sounded like a confession turned into a command, switching them around to force (y/n) down on his table. Her moan seemed to give him the green light he had been waiting for, jeans pulled down her legs with her damp panties following. Carlisle didn’t waste any time, pushing his tongue through her slit, tasting her arousal for the first time. 
(Y/n)’s moans echoed through the room, hand tugging on his roots in a desperate need to ground herself. Her heart was racing, urged on by the fear of being interrupted, of being caught in an act so wrong that felt all too right. Her body had always called out to Carlisle, and yet something had held her back, doubting that the doctor would ever be interested in her. 
“Oh god, Carlisle, you’re so-” she was interrupted by a heavy moan, he had pushed two fingers into her cunt, expectedly curling them against her sweet spot. She was trembling on the table, legs quivering already, within only a few moments of being touched. While her body struggled to hold back, her mind couldn’t help but wonder what being fucked by him must feel like, hoping that he’d soon give in. 
“What is it? Talk to me, sweetheart.” A teasing smile was shot her way, mouth finding its way to her pulsing bundle of nerves, very well knowing what she wanted from him. 
“Please.” Her whimpers were met by a throaty chuckle, he had his eyebrows raised, wordlessly commanding her to speak her thoughts. “I need you inside of me, fuck me, please Carlisle.” 
“See, that wasn’t hard, was it?” He let go of her, only to pull her to her feet, front pushed down on the table with one quick move. Before she could even take a new deep breath, his hand came down on her behind, spanking the moaning woman. She was a goner, already floating in another dimension, and he hadn’t even fucked her yet. “Are you ready for me?”
His hand met her skin again, and again, till (y/n) finally managed to press out a soft “Yes, please”. She heard him spit onto his palm, pumping his cock a few times before he pushed into her from behind. Her air was knocked from her lungs, eyes squeezed shut to try and adjust to his size. Carlisle was ruthless, urged on by all those times he had been watching her on his screen, spreading her thighs for men just as desperate as he was. 
“You’re already whimpering, and I’ve only just started fucking you. Does your boyfriend not satisfy you? You’re dripping for my cock like a slut begged to be manhandled.” His words had a sharp undertone to them, forcing a deep moan from her parted lips. Carlisle fucked her rough, hips meeting her aching behind with every thrust, pushing (y/n) further into the dark abyss she had been lured into. She was seeing stars, stars so daunting, (y/n) could feel her end coming upon her. 
With one hand finding her throat, Carlisle pulled her up against his chest, pace not faltering once. Her walls fluttered around his cock, senses heightened by the possessive grasp he had on her throat, not cutting off her airstream, but making her blood sing in her ears. She was trembling, had a hard time focusing on anything but his touch, the way he fucked her, pushing her closer to the edge. 
“Such a tight cunt, so perfect for me.” Carlisle’s words coaxed a whimper from her lips, gone the moment his cold fingers found her clit. He tightened his grasp on her throat, forcing her eyes open to focus on the dark forest surrounding the mansion, wondering who or what was lurking outside there. Would their secret be spilled? Would they be able to hide it from the others nearby? 
“Need to cum, I’m so close.” Her voice trembled, nothing more than a whisper he clearly picked up on. Carlisle’s raspy chuckles left her shuddering, mind torn between the sensation of the way he fucked her from behind and the way he expertly rubbed her clit. A rough “Cum” left the doctor, hand leaving her throat to tightly grab her waist, fearing that she may lose her balance.
Her orgasm clashed through her, leaving her moaning and whimpering, not hearing the sound of slow steps carrying somebody closer. She didn’t notice the smirk tugging on Carlisle’s lips, didn’t notice how he turned his head, eyes meeting another pair of dark ones. He pulled out of her to release himself on her behind, letting go of (y/n) to give her a moment to calm down. 
“Fuck, I’m exhausted.” Her soft chuckles were interrupted by a deep laugh, head snapping towards the door, catching Jasper leaning against the doorframe. The vampire was smirking at his wide eyed girlfriend, stepping into the office with his arms crossed in front of his chest. 
“Oh, darlin’, this was only just the beginning.”
703 notes · View notes
pepsiconcoction · 11 months
Text
The Perfect Tutor | Lee Know x Reader
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pairing: CompSci Student! Lee Know x gn!Reader
tags: fluff, no smut, just a little flirting at the end, minor explicit language, partially proofread
You think he might be perfect. And that pisses you off. Surely he can't be, right?
Why did you have to take the comp sci unit? You’re a graphic designer, you don’t need to know how big scary servers work! 
Those have been the thoughts running through your head most recently. Especially at this moment as you try to “install Windows Server 2019” and “set up Active Directory”. Yeah… because those are definitely real words… that you definitely know the meaning of.
To your dismay, at the beginning of the semester, you found out that you had to take the general computing unit, alongside your regular classes, to gain the number of credits you need to get into next year. Being a graphic designer who uses a computer, you thought that ‘general computing’ sounded like something you could do, you spend most of your time on one for god’s sake!
You’ve been staring at a loading screen for the past 10 minutes, and you’re quite honestly beginning to doubt whether it’s going to turn into anything. The Professor speaks up, dismissing the class, signalling it’s the end of the day. 
After choke-holding the computer to death (holding the power button), you slowly gather your things, watching as the other students begin to leave the computer lab. Once most of them have left, you walk up to the front desk.
“Y/n, what can I do for you?” The Professor, looks up from his school-assigned laptop, glasses on the bridge of his nose.
“Hey, Professor. I think I’m falling behind a bit, just a little out of my depth with everything,” You force your sincerest smile, talking quietly. “So I was wondering if you’d be available for extra lessons?”
“I wish I could, but I’m so busy with the department being understaffed. How about you ask one of your classmates?”
You mindlessly turn back to the room where there are a few stragglers left.
“Oh, I don’t-”
“How about Minho?” He gestures behind you.
“Minho?” You turn around making eye contact with the man mentioned. His eyes widen in curiosity at his name.
“Yeah, he is more than capable to tutor you, aren’t you, Minho?” 
Minho’s desk is only a few feet from the front but he takes a few steps towards you, holding a pair of wireless headphones in his hands. He is definitely more than capable to tutor you, and you know this. He’s quiet and keeps to himself, but you’ve seen his grades in passing. You don’t think he’s gotten below 95% on any assignment or test. You’d happily have him as your tutor, it’s just that, well, he might possibly be the most handsome guy you’ve ever met. Okay, the standards in the Comp Sci department aren’t exactly high, you’re lucky if most of them are wearing deodorant, but Minho? He dresses well, styles his hair, has a side profile worthy of painting AND he wears the perfect amount of cologne, not too much that it’s overbearing but just enough that it’s refreshing whenever you walk past him.
“Yeah, I probably could.” Minho looks at you and then back to the Professor.
“Great!” He closes his laptop and stands, gathering his things. “I’ve got to run to my next class, you guys can sort the rest.” 
With that, your Professor is halfway out the door. You look up to Minho who is half chuckling at his bluntness, and he turns to you.
“Are you sure you wanna tutor me? You don’t have to say yes, he's not here anymore.” You say, half-jokingly. 
“If you need help, I’m around. I have some free time this Friday if you want to set something up?” Minho asks.
“Yeah, Friday works great for me!”
“Perfect.” You end up swapping phone numbers to discuss the details, and you leave the classroom feeling partially accomplished. Now you just need to be professional, and not think he’s the hottest guy in the world whenever you catch a glimpse of him. You can do that. You can be normal, right?
You absolutely cannot be normal. Friday came around and he rocked up to the empty computer lab looking gorgeous in fitted black jeans and a denim jacket, coffee in hand. Thankfully you had gotten there slightly earlier to try and get ahead of the game with your notes. The two of you had decided to start with the basics, installing the operating system of the computer. Easy. 
“Remember, you don’t want to partition the hard drive, it’s not worth it on these machines at this level.” Minho explained as you quickly scribbled ‘don’t partition’ down in your notebook.
You had discovered that Minho was not only a sight for sore eyes, but also possibly the nicest, gentlest, calmest person you had met. Of course, he had his moments of energy and you two found yourself easily joking around with each other, but he was such the opposite of the gamer stereotype that you had come to dread.
“So, do you play any video games?” You asked, keeping the conversation going as the two of you were forced to sit through long progress bars.
“Not really, no. Not really my thing.” He says.
“Really? A computing student that doesn’t play games? That’s rare.” You chuckle, almost in disbelief. 
“I mean, I’ve played games. With friends and such, but I’m just not crazy into them.”
“So what are you crazy into? Computers? You seem pretty good with them.” You look towards him. The both of you are sat around a single computer, and yes, you’re very conscious of that fact.
“I guess? I’m only really taking this class for the credits.” He leans back in the chair.
“Wait, so am I!” You laugh. “So why are you so good?”
“I used to take computing in high school, and I was a bit of a nerd back then.” he laughs. 
“So what’s your major then? Mister I-only-need-the credits.”
“Dance.” He smirked.
“Liar.” You rolled your eyes.
“I’m serious. I’m a dancer.” He sat forward, chuckling.
“Show me.”
“I don’t dance for free. You’ll have to come to one of my performances,” he says cockily, crossing his arms.
“Whatever, I’ll believe it when I see it,” You say, turning back to the computer which is now conveniently asking a series of questions. After that, you finish the installation pretty quickly and decide you’re done for the day. You and Minho part ways and you find yourself back in your dorm after a stress-induced power walk through the campus. You immediately call your best friend.
“Hey, Y/n,” she picks up.
“Code Pink.”
“I’ll be there in ten.” She hangs up. Nine minutes later your best friend is letting herself into your dorm room. 
“Tell me everything.” She takes a seat on your bed. You proceed to tell her about Minho: how handsome he is, how nice he is, how funny he is, God! Are you really gushing about a boy you barely know?
“I’m like, mad! I want to hate him,” you say, from your spot on the bed. “He has to have a fatal flaw, right?”
“For sure, maybe he’s homophobic? Transphobic? Misogynistic? He’s a man! He has to be sexist somehow!”
“Yeah, you’re probably right…” You trail off in thought (and partial disappointment). “Okay, now I gotta just get it out of him, so I can justify my disliking of him, and then boom! Crush gone!” You finally say.
“Easy, now, you wanna watch a movie?” your best friend grins up at you.
Okay. Get evidence he is a shitty guy. Surely this can’t be hard. You can do this.
Except the next time the two of you are studying, he comes in wearing a white t-shirt. Plastered on the front of it are the words “trans rights are human rights” in a bold, italicised font. Okay, not transphobic. You find yourself staring at it, coincidentally staring at his chest. He definitely notices.
“Y/n?” he questions as he sits down next to you.
“Oh, sorry, I was just looking at your t-shirt.”
“Ah, yeah I got it for the pride parade a few months back.” He starts looking through his bag, taking out his notebook.
“Nice, the one in town, on Main Street?”
“Yeah. My best friend is gay, so I went with him and his boyfriend, and a few of our other friends.” He explained. Probably not homophobic either.
“That’s great, I went too, with my friends as well.” You smiled.
The two of you got to work, tackling “ADDS” and “DHCP”. You probably weren’t going to remember what those acronyms stood for in a few hours but for now, it was going well enough. Minho had been scrolling through his phone for the past few minutes as the two of you relaxed, taking a quick break, when he spoke up.
“Damn, have you seen this?” he turns his phone screen to you. “Scotland has made free sanitary products a legal requirement in all public government buildings.”
“I heard about it a few days ago. It’s sick.” You responded. He locked his phone, putting it down on the table. Okay, not actively a misogynist either. Fuck. 
You left that study lesson slightly more frustrated at your slightly bigger crush on Lee Minho.
At the third tutoring session with Minho, you were so sure you were going to nip your little crush in the bud. From down the hall, you spot him standing outside the classroom on the phone. As you get closer you seem to realise that he’s mad? Frustrated? You’re not sure.
“I don’t care if it’s a stupid idea, I’m getting him. I’ll pay for everything.” You hear him say, beginning to feel bad for eavesdropping. He must sense your presence as he turns around and shoots you a smile. 
“Alright, I have to go, I’ll talk later, love you.” He hangs up and shoves his phone into his pocket.
“Sorry, that was my mom, her and I are disagreeing.” he fake smiles.
“Oh? What about?” you ask.
“I want a cat. Another cat, I already have two. But I just saw a cat on one of those re-homing websites and my heart is screaming at me to get him. So I’m currently trying to convince my mom.” He explains, sheepishly.
“Are you serious?” you deadpan.
“Uh, yes? His name is going to be Dori and I-”
“For god’s sake,” you sigh, admitting defeat.
“Uh, sorry?”
“Why do you have to be so perfect?” You sigh. His eyes widen a little.
“Like seriously,” you continue. “You’re such a nice person, you’re funny, you’re not shitty, you like cats, you have two of them, for Christ’s sake! And if that wasn’t enough, you’re possibly the most attractive man I’ve ever met. Please just tell me what is wrong with you.”
There are a few seconds of silence. A smile begins to grow on his face. You realise what you’ve done.
“You think I’m perfect?” He grins, cockily.
“Great, and now I’m an idiot.”
“You think I’m attractive.” he beams.
“Oh, shut up, surely you must know what you look like,” you sigh, rolling your eyes.
“Well, yes, but there’s a difference between knowing I’m conventionally good-looking and you finding me attractive.” 
“And you’re smart,” you groan. He begins to laugh and when you look back towards him, you notice he’s blushing a little. You begin to laugh as well, hoping to break any potentially awkward tension.
“Okay, since I’m so smart, I have a great idea.” He smirks down at you, taking a step forward.
“Oh god,” you begin to dread. Your breath definitely doesn't catch in your throat.
“Let’s skip on the tutoring and I take you out for lunch, how does that sound?”
Your eyes widen as you take in his offer, he may be giving you his best flirtatious look, but under all that pink on his cheeks, you know he’s being serious.
“I’d like that.” You smile.
“So would I.” He responds, eyes shifting nervously down the hallway. 
“Do I get to see you dance?” You giggle.
“We’ll see.”
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