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#last time i posted him it was covid
pixelins · 4 months
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Reblog now for good wizard luck in 2024 🤞
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maulfucker · 2 months
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I can't even joke about wanting a show about Maul fucking because first of all they would try to make him straight (which he absolutely isn't) and second of all you knowwww he didn't fuck before he had his legs cut off. he was too busy being a moody teenager and going on murder vacations. so it would have to be set post AotC. so for him to fuck they would have to canonize cybernetic dicks.
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touchd0wn-boy · 1 year
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yeah that. that sounds about right
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theageofsims · 6 months
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William's maker (well -- sort of. Game wise, I am, lmao.)
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onyxhellebore · 1 year
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#fuck i'm having a bad night that should've been a good night#went to the show for my cousin's band it's their very first show they opened for some out of town bands#mostly to get people in the room to see the bands bc everybody loves him so much#and i wanted to go and my roomies wanted to go and the one was hoping to network and then we got there and like#my roomies are having a bad anxiety day and i'm fucking struggling as well#my cousin's desperately trying to make shit work he's got a surgery coming up he's got his n95 so he doesn't get covid#and put off this surgery he's been needing for four fucking years#and i'm here with my chronic fucking fatigue and updates on my sister trying to be cheery before we go on but like#we're both fucking feeling the absence and it's apparent#last time we were both in that room together he was starting another band the room was fucking full#his parents were there his brother was there my sister and i were both there and everyone was cheering and had energy and life#and there's just so much fucking ABSENCE#and the mic doesn't work so the singer just doesn't sing lyrics for the songs in the set that were supposed to have lyrics#and we ended up leavving bc again the roomies were anxious and i was fucking exhausted and like#i'm trying to salvage this night i posted the poem i had written i'm doing my fucking best#i ate the last of my birthday cake but i dropped a slice on the floor lol#idk i am just feeling the fucking absence tonight#a lot of the time i'm very content with the ways i've adjusted and the life i've rebuilt for myself but tonight i'm just like#fuck it was supposed to be different#i wish i could time travel lol#there is so much missing from me idk
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rogersstevie · 1 month
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sometimes i feel silly worrying about this being our last election if trump wins bc it's like well that's what we thought would happen last time and it didn't but like THERE WAS AN ATTEMPT and it's like there are still ongoing trials, there are still MANY people who believe the 2020 election was stolen from him (funny how they get to yell about supposed election fraud but any suggestion of the 2016 election being unfair was just democrats whining about losing lol) and so many things that crumbled during and since his presidency like it IS even more dangerous now than it was then for the republican party to hold all that party it's not even just about him it's about all of them
and people don't want to acknowledge this very real threat i know we don't actually have a democracy but we could lose what little we do have you know? like how many people already lost their lives whether in death or in the loss of rights, of loved ones, of life as they knew it because of his presidency? how many more will if he gains power again? people love to be like "well biden didn't fix x" well he can't fix everything and people don't realize he doesn't have absolute power bc he's not TRYING TO but trump fucking will and there are so many things i wish biden would do better on but there are a hell of a lot of things still affecting us from trump's presidency that he can't control like look at the fucking supreme court look what they have done BECAUSE TRUMP WON IN 2016 how much worse are they going to get if he's allowed to put more people on there like i'm just so tired
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autismserenity · 3 months
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know someone who enjoys horror stories? share this one! it's true!
hahahahahahahahahaha aarrggghhhhhhhhhh 3,000,000 deaths due to COVID-19 last year. Globally. Three million. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. The reason people are still worried about COVID is because it has a way of quietly fucking up your body. And the risk is cumulative.
I'm going to say that again: the risk is cumulative.
It's not just that a lot of people get bad long-term effects from it. One in seven or so? Enough that it's kind of the Russian Roulette of diseases. It's also that the more times you get it, the higher that risk becomes. Like if each time you survived Russian Roulette, the empty chamber was removed from the gun entirely. The worst part is that, psychologically, we have the absolute opposite reaction. If we survive something with no ill effects, we assume it's pretty safe. It is really, really hard to override that sense of, "Ok, well, I got it and now I probably have a lot of immunity and also it wasn't that bad." It is not a respiratory disease. Airborne, yes. Respiratory disease, no: not a cold, not a flu, not RSV.
Like measles (or maybe chickenpox?), it starts with respiratory symptoms. And then it moves to other parts of your body. It seems to target the lungs, the digestive system, the heart, and the brain the most.
It also hits the immune system really hard - a lot of people are suddenly more susceptible to completely unrelated viruses. People get brain fog, migraines, forget things they used to know.
(I really, really hate that it can cross the blood-brain barrier. NOTHING SHOULD EVER CROSS THE BLOOD-BRAIN BARRIER IT IS THERE FOR A REASON.) Anecdotal examples of this shit are horrifying. I've seen people talk about coworkers who've had COVID five or more times, and now their work... just often doesn't make sense? They send emails that say things like, "Sorry, I didn't mean Los Angeles, I meant Los Angeles."
Or they insist they've never heard of some project that they were actually in charge of a year or two before.
Or their work is just kind of falling apart, and they don't seem to be aware of it.
People talk about how they don't want to get the person in trouble, so their team just works around it. Or they describe neighbors and relatives who had COVID repeatedly, were nearly hospitalized, talked about how incredibly sick they felt at the time... and now swear they've only had it once and it wasn't bad, they barely even noticed it.
(As someone who lived with severe dissociation for most of my life, this is a genuinely terrifying idea to me. I've already spent my whole life being like, "but what if I told them that already? but what if I did do that? what if that did happen to me and I just don't remember?") One of its known effects in the brain is to increase impulsivity and risk-taking, which is real fucking convenient honestly. What a fantastic fucking mutation. So happy for it on that one. Yes, please make it seem less important to wear a mask and get vaccinated. I'm not screaming internally at all now.
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I saw a tweet from someone last year whose family hadn't had COVID yet, who were still masking in public, including school.
She said that her son was no kind of an athlete. Solidly bottom middle of the pack in gym.
And suddenly, this year, he was absolutely blowing past all the other kids who had to run the mile. He wasn't running any faster. His times weren't fantastic or anything. It's just that the rest of the kids were worse than him now. For some reason. I think about that a lot. (Like my incredibly active six-year-old getting a cold, and suddenly developing post-viral asthma that looked like pneumonia.
He went back to school the day before yesterday, after being home for a month and using preventative inhalers for almost week.
He told me that it was GREAT - except that he couldn't run as much at recess, because he immediately got really tired. Like how I went outside with him to do some yard work and felt like my body couldn't figure out how to increase breathing and heart rate.
I wasn't physically out of breath, but I felt like I was out of breath. That COVID feeling people describe, of "I'm not getting enough air." Except that I didn't have that problem when I had COVID.) Some people don't observe any long (or medium) term side effects after they have it.
But researchers have found viral reservoirs of COVID-19 in everyone they've studied who had it.
It just seems to hang out, dormant, for... well, longer than we've had an opportunity to observe it, so far.
(I definitely watched that literal horror movie. I think that's an entire genre. The alien dormant under ice in the Arctic.)
(oh hey I don't like that either!!!!!!!!!) All of which is to explain why we should still care about avoiding it, and how it manages to still cause excess deaths. Measuring excess deaths has been a standard tool in public health for a long time.
We know how many people usually die from all different causes, every year. So we can tell if, for example, deaths from heart disease have gone way up in the past three years, and look for reasons. Those are excess deaths: deaths that, four years ago, would not have happened. During the pandemic, excess death rates have been a really important tool. For all sorts of reasons. Like, sometimes people die from COVID without ever getting tested, and the official cause is listed as something else because nobody knows they had COVID. But also, people are dying from cardiovascular illness much younger now.
People are having strokes and heart attacks younger, and more often, than they did before the pandemic started. COVID causes a lot of problems. And some of those problems kill people. And some of them make it easier for other things to kill us. Lung damage from COVID leading to lungs collapsing, or to pneumonia, or to a pulmonary embolism, for example. The Economist built a machine-learning model with a 95% confidence interval that gauges excess death statistics around the world, to tell them what the true toll of the ongoing COVID pandemic has been so far.
Total excess deaths globally in 2023: Three million.
3,000,000.
Official COVID-19 deaths globally so far: Seven million. 7,000,000. Total excess deaths during COVID so far: Thirty-five point two million. 35,200,000.
Five times as many.
That's bad. I don't like that at all. I'm glad last year was less than a tenth of that. I'm not particularly confident about that continuing, though, because last year we started a period of really high COVID transmission. Case rates higher than 90% of the rest of the pandemic. Here's their data, and charts you can play with, and links to detailed information on how they did all of this:
Here's a non-paywalled link to it:
https://archive.vn/2024.01.26-012536/https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/coronavirus-excess-deaths-estimates
Oh: here's a link to where you can buy comfy, effective N95 masks in all sizes:
Those ones are about a buck each after shipping - about $30 for a box of 30. They also have sample packs for a dollar, so you can try a couple of different sizes and styles.
You can wear an N95 mask for about 40 total hours before the effectiveness really drops, so that's like a dollar for a week of wear.
They're also family-owned and have cat-shaped masks and I really love them. These ones are cuter and in a much wider range of colors, prints, and styles, but they're also more expensive; they range from $1.80 to $3 for a mask. ($18-$30 for a box of ten.)
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prismatica-the-strange · 11 months
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wonlovie · 8 months
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— ALWAYS.
After being broken up with, the cherry on top was receiving an invitation to your ex-boyfriend's wedding, leaving you breaking at the seams. Luckily for you, your childhood best friend is there to keep you together.
— starring. childhood bestfriend!jake x fem!reader ft. the slightest appearance of niki, mentions of ex!heeseung and le sserafim's chaewon (she was the first one i thought of LOL)
— tags. friends-to-lovers, slowburn, minor angst, jake is highkey a thigh guy, road trip!!, the oh-no-there's-only-one-bed trope several times over, smut [fem. masturbation while in the same bed, vaginal fingering, oral (f. receiving), handjob, very soft-dom!jake, first time, praising, unprotected sex, reader cries, use of petnames (princess, pretty girl, baby; he also calls you a whore/slut like,, twice) kind of but not really fwb situation [MINORS DNI]]
— word count. 14.3k
— notes. this is the first fic i've posted here!! i also started writing this like,, the day i got covid so if some sentences make zero sense it's because i was loopy af lmAOO on another note jake??? sim jake??? writing this wasnt good for my heart bc he was driving me insane the whOLE TIME
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SIXTEEN DAYS.
When you got the invitation in the mail, a single piece of cardstock carefully decorated with ornate blue lace and beautifully handwritten script, you had half the mind to ignore it. Throw it in the trash, maybe. If the sender asked, you could feign innocence. It got lost in the mail, and perhaps I never received it at all.
Unfortunately for you, your conscience kicked you swiftly in the ass before you could even step on your trash bin pedal. 
Begrudgingly, you really had no choice but to go. After all, it was your cousin’s wedding—a day you had both raved about since you were young children. You could still recall the silly Pinterest boards you put together, regrettably filled with tacky and outdated decor. Your cousin, Chaewon, even called you before the invitation was sent to your box, her excited voice crawling out of your phone speaker and taunting you with sharp licks against your ear.
You should be happy. Really, you should. Aside from Lemon, your newly adopted Jindo puppy, Chaewon was your favourite. Despite moving across the country for university, you were there for her as she was for you. Not a single day went by without an hour-long phone call between the two of you, filled to the brim with conversation or spent in peaceful silence.
The issue wasn’t Chaewon. No, it was far worse than that. The issue was her husband-to-be, a man you despised with every cell of your being.
Lee Heeseung. In other words, your ex. 
It was jarring for you to see the very man who seemed to date you out of pity, never truly initiating intimacy or even trying to pretend to be interested in the things you’d tell him, be so sweet to Chaewon. You had, unfortunately, witnessed their love firsthand on multiple occasions. The longing glances, the whispered sweet nothings, the subtle caresses when they thought no one was looking. 
You hated how bitter you felt about it. His last words to you felt like they were tattooed onto your eyelids.
“I’m sorry, but… I don’t think we should date anymore. I think I’ve found someone else.”
Of course, you were heartbroken. Heeseung was your first boyfriend and your first love. You had tried so damn hard to be the receiver of his affections, but your efforts always fell short. The next week, Chaewon approached you with tears brimming her eyes, begging for forgiveness; you knew that whatever you had with Heeseung was officially history. 
Chaewon, the angel, denied his advances until you pushed her to say yes, as you knew she wanted to. 
And now, your decision had come full circle, the ugly truth rearing its head at you. Your feelings for Heeseung were long gone, but with the breakup came a hundred insecurities you didn’t know you had, hence the big move. Maybe with space, you could heal.
“Stupid,” you whispered as your eyes scanned the invitation for the nth time in the past ten minutes. You rubbed harshly at your eyes, forcing the tears away. With a shaking finger, you traced the wedding date, briefly glancing up at the dog calendar that hung on the wall next to your fridge. 
Gingerly dropping the invitation onto the kitchen counter, you quietly counted the days left. The wedding was just over two weeks away, a beautiful August wedding. You don’t know how long you stood there, goosebumps prickling on your thighs as the morning air brushed against them. Your oversized tee did little to combat the cold.
A quiet knocking at the door made you jump. Swearing under your breath, you swiped at your cheeks to rid any evidence of tears. You shuffled to the front door and peeked through the peephole. A man stood there, hands in his jeans pockets, as he waited for you to answer. However, his head was down, which blocked his face from view.
When you didn’t answer right away, he knocked again just as gently as he had before. This time, though, he called out your name. 
Startled, you paused with your hands pressed against the door, eyes still pressed against the peephole. You knew that voice, instantly recognizing the accent that spilled into his words. Pulling the door open, your suspicions were correct when you were met with your childhood best friend, Jake.
A wide grin pulled at the corners of your lips as you looked the man up and down. “Holy shit,” you started, laughter in your voice. “What are you doing here?” Stepping back to let him in, you eyed his wide shoulders as he bent over to untie his shoes. “You never said you were coming to visit.”
Jake lazily smiled up at you as he tugged off the last shoe. His eyes drifted down for a second, catching sight of your bare legs. Not a moment later, he averted them. “Damn, hello to you too, sweets.” When he stood to his full height, he leaned into a comfortable slouch, shoving his hands into the pockets of his well-worn jeans. “Chaewon didn’t tell you?” He tilted his head at you in question.
Shaking your head no, you headed to the kitchen where you left your phone. Finding your chatroom with Chaewon, you scanned the contents quickly. “Look—”
You turned to show Jake your previous texts, but as you swivelled on your heel, you hadn’t expected him to be so close. You jumped slightly, the small of your back pressing into the cool countertop as Jake hovered over you, seemingly inches away. You could practically count his every lash from your angle, not missing how his eyes scanned your face.
Apparently, he didn’t expect to be so close either, as the tips of his ears reddened. “My bad,” as he moved to give you space. He pushed back his hair—when had he dyed it blonde?— to see your screen better. Reading quickly, he snorted at Chaewon’s lack of warning for his arrival, her last message simply being: ;).
“I thought you knew I’d be coming, so I didn’t bother sending a text,” he explained. “Chae wants me to be your escort to the wedding.”
“My what?”
Jake grinned at you, flashing his pearly whites. “Y’know, your stead. Your chauffeur. Your knight in shining armour, if you will.”
“Those aren’t the same in the slightest, Jake.”
“You get what I mean, sweets.” 
You hummed, resting your palms atop the counter by your sides. “Why so early, though? The wedding isn’t for a couple of weeks.” He opened his mouth to say something, but a sharp yip from your bedroom interrupted him. You practically watched as elation flooded his senses when he spun on the spot, searching for the sound source.
Pushing yourself off the counter, you lightly bumped his shoulder with your own as you manoeuvred around him. “Looks like someone’s awake,” you sang as you headed down the hall. You could hear Jake’s heavier, sock-clad footsteps following you into your bedroom as you called out for Lemon.
The little pup bounded toward you, jumping from your bed with a tail that wagged so fast you were concerned she’d sprain it. With her tongue out, she hopped on her hind legs, unsure of whether she should greet you or Jake first. “Lemon, this is Jake,” you introduced as you picked her up. Gently moving her paw in a waving motion, you smiled at him. “Jake, this is the love of my life, Lemon.”
He sent you a teasing smile, “I thought that was my title.” You flushed at the unexpected remark. Before you could respond, he turned to Lemon with a soft expression. “Hi, Lemon. Hope you’re taking good care of sweets for me.” Cooing at the pup, he booped her nose.
Without a word, you motioned for him to follow you back to the living room, situating yourself on the small leather couch worn from years of hand-me-down use. Lemon hopped off your lap, her tail wagging as she beckoned Jake to sit down. He was quick to join you, sitting close enough for your knees to touch when Jake shifted his body to face you. You scanned him up and down.
He’d changed a bit, clearly, since the last you saw him. He wasn’t nearly as scrawny as before, his broad frame apparent from under his unzipped jacket. He had lost the baby fat in his cheeks, leaving behind a sharp jawline. The biggest change to note was his hair. Long gone were the black tresses, and in their place were soft blond locks.
In other words, he was hot.
“When did this happen?” you asked as he shrugged his jacket off, reaching up to twist a strand with your finger. “It looks good on you.”
Jake sent you a teasing look, the corners of his lips tugging upwards. “You would’ve known I went blond like a month and a half ago if you actually read your messages,” he chided, clicking his tongue. His eyes stayed on you, flitting across your face.
“Whatever,” you hushed, “I’ve just been busy with school.” It's a lie, but he doesn’t need to know that. No one needed to know that you’ve spent the last few months acting like a heartbroken teen when you were a grown adult. Despite Jake having seen the worst parts of you in high school, you still wanted him to hold some esteem for you.
For a second, it was quiet aside from Lemon’s quiet sniffing, her nose working quickly on Jake’s discarded coat. Jake held eye contact with you, a silent question reflected in his eyes. 
“It’s still weird to me.”
Raising a brow, you rested your elbow on the back of the couch, resting your head against your palm. “What is?”
He stayed silent for a minute before leaning back against the couch, turning his head slightly to face you. “I can’t just walk down the block to annoy you now. Now, you’re four hours away unless I want to spend a few hundred on a plane ticket.” He stuck out his tongue, “‘Dunno why you didn’t stay.” His voice was light, teasing, but you could hear a slight edge to his words.
You huffed, “You know exactly why I left.”
For a moment, neither of you said anything. When Heeseung broke up with you, Jake was the first one you told. Despite being an incoherent, blubbering mess over the phone, he came the instant he heard the first sob rack your body. That night, he held you without a word until your tears ran dry.
“You still hung up about it?”
Pausing, you shook your head. “No,” you bit your lip, not catching the way his eyes darted down to watch, “not anymore, anyway. I don’t feel anything for Heeseung if that’s what you’re asking.” You cracked a sardonic smile at him, punching his shoulder and chuckling when Lemon followed your movement. “Not that pathetic yet, Jake.”
He fully turned his body to you, the leather couch squeaking under his shifting weight. His golden hair fell into his eyes as he bore into yours. “I was there, remember?” His voice was gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you off. “I know it hurt more than you’re letting on. It wasn’t that long ago.”
You silently cursed him for still being able to read you so well, even after so long apart. Absentmindedly, you tugged on the hem of your shirt, playing with the edge that was starting to fray after years of use. Jake leaned forward, placing a warm hand on your bare thigh. “I’ll be there the whole time. If you want me to, I’ll stay right beside you the whole night.”
Your eyes darted to where his large hand rested on your skin, swallowing harshly. “Yeah,” you whispered, looking back up at him through your lashes. “That’d be… really nice, Jake.” You shakily exhaled; his proximity and his touch made your every nerve go haywire. Since when did Jake, your best friend since you were in diapers, have this effect on you? Looking up at the mop of messy blond on his head, you blamed the change in colour.
Jake didn’t say anything for a while but never moved his hand. The two of you sat there, staring into each other's eyes. Lemon had long ago gotten comfy in the small space between you, round eyes closed in rest. “I’ll always be there for you, you know that, right?” He said finally, voice barely above a whisper.
You could only nod, your every thought directed to the hand on your thigh, his thumb rubbing circles on the inside of your leg.
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You offered Jake your shower while you went to get his luggage from his car. At first, he refused, telling you that he could get the luggage himself and take a shower afterward, but you had practically shoved him into the bathroom, claiming he smelt bad from the drive. 
Truthfully, he smelt good as ever, having always possessed an addicting scent to you.
Besides, this way, you could clear your head with some fresh air as you left and headed to your apartment parking lot. Easily spotting his car, much newer than any of the models your neighbours had, you jogged over to it. Once inside, you noted how clean the car was, coming as somewhat of a surprise to you. A carwash receipt peaked out from the middle console.
Lugging his suitcase out from the backseat, you were quick to make your way back, lest Jake be left without clothes for too long. Shutting your front door behind you, you nearly let out a scream when, on cue, Jake emerged from a cloud of steam, donning only your fluffy blue towel. He hadn’t noticed you yet, using another towel to shake out the excess water from his hair.
Unknowingly, your eyes followed a bead of water as it trailed down his toned body, disappearing under the towel that threatened to unravel itself, sending your mind into a frenzy. Turning around before he could realize that you were ogling at him like some pervert, you cleared your throat. “Got your suitcase,” you forced out. “You can change in my room if you want.”
“Ah, thanks, sweets.” You listened for his footsteps, tensing as they came closer. “Why so shy?” He inquired with a chuckle at the tip of his tongue. “‘S not like you’ve never seen me naked before.”
“Jake, we were five.”
“Still,” he laughed. You were startled when he patted your shoulder, gently turning you to face him more. You swallowed harshly at the sight of his naked chest up close. “Joking. Thanks for grabbing my stuff.” Without another word, he turned around and disappeared behind your bedroom door.
Letting out a breath, you pressed your forehead against the cool surface of your front door, holding a hand over your heart. Lemon’s tiny paws brought her over to you, the click clicks of her nails against the hardwood taking your attention away from your thoughts. She looked up at you, her head tilted as though she was questioning you. “I must be going crazy, huh?” You knelt down to let her jump on you, her front paws pressing into your leg. 
“Layla’d love her,” Jake’s voice interrupted. You looked up to see him dressed in comfy attire, a dim disappointment settling in your stomach. “You hungry? I can order something for us.”
Rolling your eyes, you stood up. “You’re my guest, Jake. I can order.” You pulled out your phone and open a delivery app. Before you could get too far, the phone was taken from your grasp, left in Jake’s palm as he stared at you in challenge.
With a shake of his head, he denied you. “I may be your guest, but you’re also housing me for two weeks. Plus, I haven’t seen you in forever.” He hunched over to meet your eyes, “My treat. You can pay next time, promise.”
By the time the food arrived, you and Jake had settled in on the couch, a random movie playing on the TV. Quiet chatter filled the space. The movie had already been forgotten, acting as mere background noise to your conversation. You dug into your food without missing a beat, covering your mouth to retort whenever Jake would make a jab at you. 
“You never got to answer my question,” you prompted, putting down your chopsticks and resting the take-out container on the coffee table. “Why’d you come so early? Why not closer to the wedding?”
You watched Jake pause, his expression unreadable. “Would you believe me if I said I just wanted to see you?” he asked, voice low as he turned to look at you. His blond hair had been pushed up and back so many times strands framed his face, allowing you to see all of it. “Because I do,” he continued, shrugging as if he weren’t making your heart race, “I want to see you. All the time.”
Unsure of how to respond, you sputtered for a moment before turning away, your cheeks warm. “I’ve wanted to see you too,” you mumbled, “so thanks. For coming.”
“For you? Always.”
Rolling your eyes, you bumped Jake with your shoulder. “When did you get so cheesy?”
Jake pulled his lower lip under his teeth for a second, biting at the plump flesh as he mulled over an answer. “Just missed you, is all.”
Nodding, you turned your head to watch the rest of the movie. It was confusing since neither of you watched the first half. Beside you, Jake turned to do the same. If either of you noticed how the space between you had become nonexistent, thighs and shoulders pressed together, no one said a word. You couldn’t complain, enjoying how Jake’s warmth seeped through his clothes and into your skin.
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Without realizing it, the both of you fell asleep. The TV had gone dark after hours of inactivity, the moon lighting up the room with a dark hue. Jake awoke first, grumbling when his neck had a familiar ache in it. But when he went to roll his shoulder, something was in the way. Or rather, someone. He turned, pursing his lips to stay quiet as he realized you were leaning on him.
Your legs were draped over his own, something you must’ve done in your sleep. Or maybe it was him searching for a source of warmth in the coolness of the night. His arm was wrapped around your shoulder, your head fitting directly in the crook of his neck. He felt his skin burn as he swore quietly. Pulling out his phone, he glanced at the time.
3:02 a.m.
As slowly as he could, he hooked one arm under your knees and the other around your back. Standing, he hoped his racing heart wouldn’t wake you. Jake maneuvered the dark apartment as best he could without accidentally hitting your head against the walls of your hallway. Luckily, you left your bedroom door open, so he didn’t need to figure that out somehow. 
Lemon was already asleep, curled up on your left pillow. Carefully, he laid you down on the bed, pushing away stray hairs on your face afterward. He stayed there for a moment, staring at your peaceful expression. His heart warmed, a tingly feeling in his belly erupting at the sight of you. He tugged the blanket over your body, pressing a finger to his lips when Lemon startled awake.
Tucking you in, he hovered for a minute before pressing a soft kiss against your forehead. “Night, sweets,” he whispered before moving to his feet. Before he could get very far, a hand shot out from under the blanket and weakly grasped at his wrist. Turning, Jake held a breath at the sight of your sleepy eyes gazing up at him. “Only have one bed,” you slurred, sleep taking over your speech. “Sleep here.”
Jake balked at you, hands subconsciously balling at his sides. “Are you sure? I can sleep on the couch—”
“No! Sleep here.” You didn’t give him much room to argue as you scooted backwards to give him some room before lifting the blanket in invitation. This movement bugged Lemon, clearly, as she moved from your pillow to lay in the nook of your bent legs. “Come on, we’ve slept in the same bed before.”
Swallowing at the sight of you, eyes barely open and shirt riding up further than he could handle, Jake relented, knowing you would keep arguing with him until daylight. The last time we slept in the same bed, you were bawling your eyes out over Heeseung, he stopped himself from saying. The thought lingered as he crawled in next to you, keeping a respectful distance. 
Satisfied, you allowed your heavy lids to close, a small, contented smile painted on your lips. “G’night, Jake.”
He sighed. “Good night, sweets.”
You fell asleep instantly, hand resting on the pillow in front of your face. Jake mirrored your position, your pinkies centimetres from touching. He observed the slow rise and fall of your chest and the occasional sniffs when your hair would fall and tickle your nose. His eyes traced your every feature, from the curve of your cheek to your supple lips. 
Jake did not sleep well that night.
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FOURTEEN DAYS.
Two days after Jake had made an appearance, he quickly fell into a routine with you. He would wake up first and have a cup of coffee ready for you whenever you’d sleepily bound into the kitchen. A bowl of cereal would already be sitting on the counter, the jug of milk sitting beside it. Your mornings were quiet as you both woke up, only a raspy “good morning” before you’d sit in silence over your bowls.
It had been a long time since you had such normalcy, and you’d be lying if you said you hated it.
“Hey,” he started, only half done chewing his cereal. “We have, like, two weeks left until we actually need to be in Seoul, right?”
You eyed him suspiciously for his cheery tone so early in the morning. Swallowing your food first, you nodded. “Yeah, but Chae wants us back at least two days before in case things need fixing or whatever.” Sipping your coffee, you raised a brow at him, “Why?”
Grinning at you, he leaned over to grab your arm in excitement. Your eyes darted to where you connected, noting how his thumb immediately started rubbing the inside of your wrist, making you cross your legs under the table. “Let’s make our trip back a road trip!”
You blinked. “Jake. You drove here—it was already going to be a road trip to go back.”
Jake threw his head back in a groan, inadvertently showing you his Adam’s apple as it bobbed up and down. You followed the movement down to his wide shoulders before looking away a second before he straightened up to meet eyes with you. “Dummy, I know that. Let’s make it a fun road trip with loads of stops and everything!” He talked animatedly, waving his hands with reckless abandon. “There are lots of small towns and pitstops on the way to Seoul, but we’ve never actually explored them.”
“How do you know I haven’t?”
Jake looked at you as if you had grown two heads. “If you have and I wasn’t invited, your best friend card is being revoked this instant. You hear me? Revoked.”
Laughing, you stood and grabbed both of your empty bowls. “Fine, we can have your fun road trip. You’re doing all the planning, though, since it was your idea.” You tilted his coffee mug toward you to see if he had finished it, placing it back where it was when you saw the brown liquid still swirling inside. He followed you to the sink, sleeves already rolled up when you placed the porcelain into the basin.
You didn’t say anything when he gently pulled you to the side and grabbed the sponge to start cleaning. “I already have the route!” He told you, not taking his eyes off the dishes. “It’s in my phone. You can look—it’s in the notes app.” Peaking at you through his lashes, he nodded his head in the general direction of where he left his phone. “Password’s still the same.”
You snorted, picking it up from the table before joining him at the sink, hopping up on the counter beside him. As you entered your birthyear into the phone, you didn’t catch the way he eyes your thighs, your shorts doing little to nothing to cover up the way they flattened slightly against the cool marble. “Y’know,” you started, ripping him out of his thoughts, ushering him to quickly place the bowls and spoons onto your drying rack. “This is a shitty password. You’re gonna get robbed one day.”
 He shrugged, pulling the hand towel off your oven’s handle to dry his hands. You watched him, silently ogling at the veins that popped out in his forearms when he turned to replace the towel. “Maybe, but it’s important to me.”
“My birth year?”
He grinned at you with a simple nod, standing between your thighs. His eyes fell to them once more when you absentmindedly spread your legs to give him room to stand. Biting the inside of his cheek, he shakily rested his palms on either side of you, moving slow enough for you to object if you were uncomfortable. "It's the year my favourite person was born, after all." You didn’t say anything, instead looking back at his phone screen.
He watched as your eyes flit back and forth as you read, his fingers itching to move closer to you, to touch your skin. He opted to curl his fingers until his nails dug into his palms. “When did you figure this out?” You asked, smiling at the title of the note.
Sweets and Jake’s Road Trip !!!
“Last night, while you slept.”
You shot him a look, searching for eye bags. You were relieved when you didn’t see any, but you punched his shoulder nonetheless. “Idiot. If you can’t sleep, you can wake me, you know? You don’t have to stay up by yourself.” You placed a hand on his forearm, rubbing your thumb over a jutting vein just as he had to you moments before.
His urge to touch you grew stronger, and he felt his mental fortitude crumbling at the contact. Clearing his throat, Jake shrugged. “You’re cute when you sleep, princess. Didn’t want to wake you.” Moving away before your scent could drive him any more insane, he rubbed the back of his neck. “So? What’s the verdict?”
Lips parted from his casual slip of a nickname you’d never heard from him before, you dumbly nodded. “Good. It’s good. Let’s do it.” You hopped down from the counter, Jake’s hands immediately moving to steady you once you got on your feet. “When do we leave?”
Jake grinned at you, revealing his canines. “Whenever you’re ready, sweets.”
You returned the smile, excitement starting to affect you. “Let’s get ready then, shall we?”
It didn’t take either of you very long to get your suitcases and essentials put together. Jake had mostly kept his things in his suitcase, only pulling out clothes he needed for the day or toiletries that you didn’t have any to spare. Two toothbrushes sat in a cup instead of the usual one, and the sight made you grin as you collected your things. Chaewon had your dress up in Seoul, so you didn’t need to worry about any of that either.
An hour after Jake proposed the road trip, he was waiting outside, one hand clasped over both of your luggage handles, the other holding Lemon’s carrier as you locked the door. The two of you walked out to his car in silence, the crisp morning air making you shiver under your thin jacket. “It’s still summer,” you complained in a long drawl, “why is it so fucking cold in the morning?”
Jake laughed at you, thanking you when you opened the back door of his car for him and carefully slid the luggage and carrier in. “Relax, princess, I’ll turn the heat on just for you, yeah?”
You grumbled at his teasing, taking your spot in the passenger seat without a word as he held the door open for you. You watched him jog around the car to reach his side, never taking your eyes off him as he fiddled with the A/C. As he turned the ignition on, he handed you his phone. “Put something on for me, will you?” 
As he drove, you noted the fact that he drove with one hand on the wheel, the other resting casually on the middle console. His arms were exposed in the black tee he wore, seemingly not as affected by the cold as you were. You willed yourself not to notice how the shirt was unfairly form-fitting, wrapping around the bulk of his bicep in a way that was sending you spinning. 
The first stop was five minutes away from your apartment as Jake pulled into the parking lot of a nearby convenience store. Jake unrolled the windows a bit for Lemon, telling her to be good as the both of you exited the vehicle. Once inside, you shivered at how strong the store had its A/C running. 
Eyeing you, Jake sent you a smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll be quick.”
Without another word, you followed as Jake made his way through the different aisles, picking up snacks that you easily recognized as some of your favourites. Even grabbing a heat pack, he waved it at you teasingly. “Weirdo, needing a heat pack in the middle of August.”
You sputtered, “Wha— I never asked you to—”
Interrupting you with a bark of a laugh, he shook his head. “Just poking fun. C’mon, let’s go. Lemon’s probably waiting for us.” You huffed but didn’t argue as he pulled you to the front cashier by the hand. You trained your sight on your connected hands, moving them so your fingers interlaced. Jake briefly looked down at what you’d done, but if it bothered him, he didn’t say anything.
“Oh, it’s you!”
To both your surprise and Jake’s, the cashier’s eyes lit up when he saw you. “We had English together,” he filled in when you didn’t seem to recognize him. “We were in a group project together for the final?” You blinked a few times before making a noise of recognition.
“Riki! Sorry, I didn’t recognize you with the new hair,” you explained, glancing at his newly dark brown hair. “It was blond before. Looks good now, though!” You gave him a thumbs up. Before he could reply beside you, Jake cleared his throat. Both you and Riki looked at him, realizing that the latter hadn’t even started ringing your items through, and there was a bit of a line behind you.
Riki immediately started scanning the snacks Jake had brought, never taking his eyes off you. “What’re you up to this summer? I haven’t seen you at all since the semester ended.”
You hummed, “My cousin’s wedding is in two weeks, so Jake and I—” You nudged him, not noticing how quiet he had gotten. “—are driving back to Seoul right after this.”
The younger boy nodded, glancing over at Jake before looking down at your hands. You forgot they were still intertwined, but Jake's grip tightened when you went to let go. You dropped your head to hide how warm your cheeks felt, biting your lip lightly. “Ah,” Riki put down the scanning gun, his tone noticeably less happy. “₩9000, please.”
Jake threw a few crumpled notes on the counter before bowing his head slightly in goodbye, tugging you toward the exit wordlessly. You waved at Riki over your shoulder before walking quickly to fall in step with Jake. “You okay? You were quiet in there, and then you pulled us out like that.”
Jake only nodded, carelessly tossing the bag of snacks into the back with your luggage. “Here,” he tossed you the heat pack, already cracked and warming up. He opened your door again without further explanation before taking his own seat.
You stared at his profile in confusion, the heat pack already doing its job on your frigid hands. As he pulled back onto the road, you glanced at his hand, which rested over the middle console as it had before.
Curiously, you turned his wrist until his palm was facing upward. Jake watched you from the corner of his eye, only turning his head when he reached a red light. He hadn’t expected you to put your hand in his, interlocking your fingers once again. “Your hands are warmer,” you mumbled, leaning back to get comfortable. In shock, Jake hadn’t taken his eyes off of you.
Smiling tightly at him, you squeezed his hand. “The light’s green.”
Snapping his head forward, he coughed as he focused on the road. For the next while, your hand would stay in his. The ride to the next town was spent in silence, with you mouthing the lyrics to songs you recognized from his playlists. 
In Jake’s phone, he had written that you were to stay at motels in towns along the way. When you protested at the cost it would be, he simply argued with it’s for the experience, sweets. And no worries! I’m paying for the whole trip. And when you argued with that last bit, he only replied, if I see your wallet at all, I might have to fight you.
Your first real stop was in a small fishing village, the last coastal town you’d see before you started driving inland. The morning chill was gone, replaced with the comforting warmth of the summer sun. Despite that, you didn’t let go of Jake’s hand until you had to get out of the car. Stretching your limbs, you groaned when you felt and heard some joints pop. 
You inhaled deeply, closing your eyes as you took in the smell of the ocean and the distant chatter of nearby townspeople. The motel Jake brought you to was a little rundown; it was obvious that it had been around for quite some time. The paint was peeling a bit, and the shingles on the roof made it look dated, but it had a cozy feel to it. Besides, it was the only dog-friendly motel in the area, so you couldn’t afford to be choosy.
“Hello,” the old woman at the receptionist's desk greeted you kindly, eyes shifting from you to Jake. You smiled at her, bowing your head in respect. Besides you, Jake did the same with that easygoing grin of his. “How may I help you?”
“A room for two, please,” said Jake.
The woman nodded, looking over at the remaining room keys. Grabbing one, she handed it over to you before telling Jake how much it’d cost. As Jake fumbled with his wallet, the old woman looked at you fondly. “You two are precious,” she informed you with an air of nostalgia, her wrinkled hand resting atop her chest over her heart. “I remember when me and my late husband were your age.”
You blushed at her insinuation that you and Jake were together but found that the idea wasn’t as jarring as you thought it’d be. You couldn’t tell if Jake didn’t catch the comment or chose not to reply as he handed her the money she needed. 
It wasn’t hard to find your room out of the ten total, and you were pleased to see that the coziness of the outside continued inside. Jake wheeled your luggage in while you opened Lemon’s carrier, letting her roam free in the room, sniffing the foreign air. The room itself wasn’t too big, consisting of the main room that could only fit a single queen bed and not much else and a bathroom that was longer than it was wide. 
“It’s like we’re teens again,” you giggled at Jake, shrugging off your jacket. “We’re sharing beds often.”
Jake let out a breath at the realization that there really was only one bed again and nodded stiffly. He supposed that was his fault for not mentioning how many beds you needed. “I guess so,” he gazed at you tenderly. “You sure you don’t mind?”
You rolled your eyes at him, “You can cut the gentleman act with me, Jake. If I minded, I would’ve said something already. We shared a bed in my apartment, remember?”
Of course I remember, he thought, it was driving me crazy.
In truth, Jake hasn’t been able to sleep because of how cuddly you were in your sleep. He’d purposely lay as far as he could from you so as not to give in to any temptations, but it seemed like you had other plans whenever you laid your head to rest. Not two minutes after he’d heard your soft snores, your hands were reaching for him, pulling you closer to his torso until you were snuggled up against him. 
He may have only been staying with you for two days, but he’s had to take just as many cold showers before you woke up.
“Do you wanna go on a walk?” you asked once the two of you settled. Lemon sat by your feet, circling them by looping under the chair you sat on to entertain herself. “It’d be nice to venture out! I think poor Lemon’s a bit restless from the carrier.” You bent over to rub behind her ears, to which she let out a yip of approval.
Jake smiled softly at the sight before nodding. “Let’s go, then.”
Thankfully, Lemon was an off-leash dog and stayed close by as you walked the streets of an unfamiliar town. In the distance, seagulls cried out to each other as fishing boats pushed off from the harbour. The sound of the sea lulled you into a peaceful reverie. You and Jake walked side by side, fingers brushing against each other every so often.
“It’s nice here,” you mumbled, “we should have done this sooner.”
Jake hummed, the low noise rattling in your ears. You closed your eyes as you walked, fully trusting Jake to guide you if you were going to walk into anything. He smiled softly at the sight of your relaxed demeanour, moving to hold your hand. You walked in silence for a bit before you reached the shore. Jake spotted some beach chairs, pulling you along. Lemon bounded ahead, happy to have room to run. You cracked open your eyes in time to see her jump into the water, barking happily as she entertained herself.
“Next time, you should bring Layla,” you suggested as you sat down. 
Jake smiled down at your hands. “Yeah, next time.”
Silence fell upon you, but it wasn’t unwelcome. You both watched Lemon as she played in the water, occasionally coming up to bring you a rock she had found before hopping back into the puddles the tide was creating. All the while, your hands stayed clasped, with Jakes's thumb rubbing familiar circles on the back of your palm.
“Why did you move so far?”
You halted, your smile slipping. “You asked me already.”
“But you weren’t being completely truthful with me.” He looked at you, concern shining in his eyes. “You’re not over it, are you?”
The topic dampened your mood, your heart rate rising as you avoided eye contact. “I told you already, Jake. I don’t love Heeseung anymore. I’m fine,” you pressed, lying through your teeth. Lying to Jake always left a bitter taste in your mouth, as you knew he could tell immediately that it wasn’t the truth. “What kind of cousin would I be if I were still in love with her groom-to-be?”
Jake’s frown deepened. “You have the right to be hurt—”
“But I’m not! So drop it.” Your outburst garnered the attention of a few townspeople who were out and about, causing you to flush in embarrassment. Lowering your voice, you stared down at the rocky beach, digging your dirtied trainers into the course sand. “I’m fine.”
Unbelieving, Jake continued, “It’s just… I thought you had enough reason to stay.”
His words made you look up, annoyed at how much he was pressing the topic on you. “Clearly, I didn’t.” Shaking your head, you dropped his hand before standing to your feet and dusting off imaginary dirt from your pants. You looked down at him, a mistake as you were forced to look at his hurt expression, lip trembling as he stared up at you open-mouthed. “I’m going back.”
He only watched your back as you walked away, beckoning Lemon to follow. The poor puppy got out of the water, shaking off the excess. She ran toward you but paused and looked back at Jake. She tilted her head as if she were asking Aren’t you coming? before running after you.
He didn’t know how long he sat there, shellshocked, until he realized that the sun was starting to set. Deciding he had been out there long enough, Jake slowly made his way back to the motel. When he got to your room, he hesitated, knowing that you could easily lock him out for the night if you were still upset with him since you had the only key.
Jake stood there, mulling over whether or not he should try knocking, but before he could even decide, the door opened. He was met with you, tear-stained cheeks and bloodshot eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” you opened the door more for him to come in. His heart broke at the sight of you and at how wet your voice sounded, as if you had just finished crying.
“Sweets, I’m sorry—” 
You shook your head, holding up a hand to stop him. “No, you did… you did nothing wrong. I shouldn’t have exploded at you like that or left you alone out there.” You looked down in shame, gnawing at your bottom lip. “I’m sorry, Jake.”
He was quick to lift your chin with two fingers, keeping them there as he rested his other hand on your upper arm. “Hey, no, none of that. I shouldn’t have pushed you when you obviously didn’t want to talk about it.” He pushed your hair behind your ear before bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around him, burying your head in his shoulder. He kissed the top of your head before muttering in your ear, “I’m sorry, sweets. I promise I won’t ask about it until you tell me you’re ready.”
You let go of the hug, but Jake kept you close in his arms. Looking into his eyes with welled-up tears, you pouted slightly, bringing his gaze downward. “You’re sure you’re not upset with me?”
“With you, never, sweets.”
You opened your mouth but closed it before you could say anything. Hugging him again, your voice came out muffled. “Wanna sleep.”
Jake chuckled at you, dropping his head in disbelief. “Okay.”
Not long after, you were both situated in bed, with Lemon lying at your feet like usual. As he had for nights before, Jake kept his distance, but you quickly changed that. For the first time, you cuddled up to him while you were awake, fully aware of your actions. Jake’s breath halted as he felt you nuzzle your face into the soft fabric of his tee, which smelt so strongly of him that it was all you could smell. “I love you,” you whispered into his skin, sending his brain into a frenzy. “You’re the bestest friend I could’ve ever asked for.”
Jake could practically hear the record screech in his head, gritting his teeth a bit before relaxing his jaw to leave another soft kiss against your temple. “I love you too, sweets.”
The day had exhausted him more than he’d realized. For the first time in two days, Jake found himself falling asleep right after you, holding you tightly against his chest.
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You awoke to the feeling of something warm attached to your neck. A quiet moan escaped your lips when the something bit down. You felt large hands explore the expanse of your side, your sleeping shirt pushed far up. Something hard poked against your thigh as you angled your head upward.
Your eyes fluttered open as you realized it was Jake, groaning as he nipped at your skin, leaving behind blossoms of red and purple. You moved your hips closer to his, gasping when his growing hard-on made contact with your clothed sex. “Fuck, baby, you don’t know what you do to me,” he uttered, his deep voice going straight to your groin. Your panties, you were sure, were already soaked with your slick.
“Please,” you whined as he bit down harder, and his hand roamed higher, tracing the curve of the underside of your breast with his fingers. His mouth felt oh-so-hot on your skin, and his teasing touch did little to alleviate it. “Show me, Jake. Show me what I do to you.”
He pulled back, ignoring the noise of disappointment you made. His eyes looked impossibly dark as he hovered over you, chest heaving. “Be careful what you wish for, pretty girl.” He easily flipped you onto your back, slotting himself between your legs. You moaned loudly when he ground his hips against yours, allowing you to feel just how hard he’d gotten. 
His lips met yours in a hungry kiss, tongue forcing itself past your lips to lick into your mouth. His hands moved wildly, pushing your shirt up until your breasts were fully uncovered, nipples pebbling in exposure to the cold air. “So beautiful,” he groaned into your ear as one hand kneaded your left breast. “Fuck, gonna make you mine, yeah? You want that?”
“Yes!” You exclaimed pathetically, a sob of need ripping through your throat as his free hand made its way to your shorts. “Please, Jake, need you so badly.”
He groaned again, pushing past the elastic waistband and guiding his fingers into your soaked panties. He moved down to collect your wetness and…
You breathed in harshly when you woke up, your heart racing faster than it ever had before. You blinked a few times to adjust to the darkness of the room, remembering where you were. Your chest heaved as you tried to calm yourself down, your face burning. Oh my god, you thought in slight mortification.
Jake’s arm rested over your middle, you realized, as he spooned you from behind. Your startle hadn’t woken him, his soft snores sounding in your ear canals. You were relieved that he wasn’t awake to ask why you woke up so violently because how were you to explain that it was because you were having a wet dream about him?
The dull feeling of disappointment had settled into your gut from having been interrupted before the dream could get good, a feeling that came with shame at how indisputable your horniness was. You’d never dreamed of Jake in such a light, but now you were worried that you wouldn’t be able to rid yourself of the sight of his eyebrows scrunching together in pleasure as he ground against you—
No. You need to stop.
Turning your head to groan into the pillow, you became hyper-aware of how wet you were, your panties sticking uncomfortably to your pussy. You pressed your legs together, silently willing the pulsing of your clit to calm down and let you fall asleep again. If you fall asleep, you might forget about this in the morning.
“Stop moving,” Jake’s tired voice scared you, making you jump. He used his arm to pull you closer against him, your hand against your mouth to stop yourself from making any noise. Not long after, you heard his deep breaths again, signalling that he’d fallen asleep. 
Fuck, you were screwed. You closed your eyes tightly, but all you could think about was how firm and warm he felt. Pressed against him like this, you could almost feel everything. From his tone chest and legs to his soft length, pressing against your backside. His gray sweats and your flimsy shorts barely acted as a barrier between you. Stretching your legs out, you realize that Lemon had hopped off the bed at some point, likely to sleep in her carrier.
Without thinking, your shaky hand made its way down your front, actively avoiding his arm. You bit your lip harshly as you slipped a finger underneath your shorts, listening carefully to ensure he wasn’t awake. This is crazy, you have never thought of doing something so indecent in front of Jake, but the idea was sending you into a frenzy. 
You fingertip made contact with your slit, and you had to stop yourself from moaning aloud at just how wet you were. Slowly, you rubbed circles around your clit, jolting slightly at the initial contact. Maybe it was from the dream or the fact that Jake was right there, but you felt more sensitive than usual, holding in whimpers with every movement.
“F-fuck,” you accidentally let out, screwing your eyes shut as you moved your hand faster. In the quiet stillness of the night, you could hear your slick with every flick of your wrist. If Jake woke up, there’d be no question to what you were doing, but the thought only spurred you on more.
Using your other hand to grope yourself over your shirt, you teased your entrance, easily inserting a finger. It wasn’t enough, your finger failing to fill you up how you know Jake’s would, a thought that forced out a rather loud moan.
Realizing how loud you were, you paused and listened to his breathing. Before you could even register that his breaths weren’t as deep as they were before, his arm tightened around you.
“Naughty fucking girl,” he hissed into your ear, pulling your hand out of your panties. You didn’t have time to feel humiliated before he rolled you onto your back, his thighs pressing into your waist as he sat on top of you. The look he gave you was just like the one he had in your dream, eyes dark and pupils full-blown, eyebrows furrowed together in desperate need.
“Touching yourself like that while my arm’s around you,” he spat, leaning until he was mere inches away from your face. “Thinking I wouldn’t wake up. Needed me that badly, yeah?”
It was clear that you were shocked, wide-eyed and jaw agape. Not once in your lifetime of friendship with Jake had you seen this feral side to him. You felt his hardening length when he pressed his hips down and groaned. “Come on, sweets. I know you’re smarter than that. You can answer me with words like a big girl.”
You smacked your lips together in disbelief before nodding slowly. “Yeah,” you stuttered. “Need you so bad, Jake.” Your own words surprised you, his boldness rubbing off on you. “Dreamt of you,” you confessed.
Jake raised a brow at you, laying his hand flat on your side. “Yeah? Was I touching you,” he used his hand to push up your shirt, moving faster than his dream counterpart had and groping at your breast, flicking his thumb over the hardening bud. “Like this?”
Nodding fervently, you bit your lip to hold in your moans as he handled you. He clicked his tongue using his other hand to pull at your bottom lip until it was released from your teeth. “Wanna hear you, princess. You had no problem moaning while I was asleep. Unfair to hide them in front of me now, isn’t it?”
He bent down to take your other nipple in his hot mouth, his searing tongue darting out to circle the sensitive bud. His eyes never left yours, watching your expressions as you arched your back to his ministrations. He let go of your nipple, only to blow cold air on it, making you whimper. “What else did I do, pretty?” He asked, pinching and rolling your nipple between his fingers. “Did I make you feel good?”
“Fuck,” you cried when he thrust his hips against you, giving you a hint as to what was to come. “Made me feel so good, Jake.” You threw your head back as he continued, shallowly thrusting against your clothed core. You weakly pointed at your neck. “Kissed me here,” you sighed when he leaned forward to leave kitten licks against your neck, nipping gently at the skin. “And…”
He bit down on the skin under your ear, using his tongue to soothe the mark before kissing up to your earlobe. “And?” His deep voice resonated within you, making you shiver.
“And then you…” You trailed off, instead opting to run a hand down your front to the waistband of your shorts, not missing the way his eyes followed. “Touched me here.” Tapping over your clothed clit, you avoided his gaze out of shyness, still in disbelief of this situation. “Then I woke up.” Your voice was weak, doused in lust and need for the man in front of you.
He smirked at you, moving back so he could pull your shorts off, leaving you in your oversized tee—an old shirt of his he’d given you before you moved—and your soaked baby blue panties. Even in the dark, he could see how wet you were, the thought making him groan as he palmed himself over his sweats at the sight of you. 
“Poor baby,” he sighed, though you heard no actual sympathy in his tone. “Couldn’t get off in your dream, so you touched yourself like a whore in front of me.” You squirmed at his vulgarity, his words sending shockwaves to your clenching pussy. Shifting his body down the bed so he was laying between your thighs, he left kisses up and down the sensitive skin there. His tongue traced a line from your knee up to where you truly wanted him before stopping right before your panties. His mouth wrapped around your skin as he bit down, hard enough to sting but not hard enough to really hurt.
When he pulled away, a dark hickey had formed. “Shit,” he groaned, “God, I love marking you up.” He looked back up at you, resting on your elbows so you could watch him. “Gonna leave marks all over, yeah? Then you’ll know who made you feel good, pretty girl.”
Mindlessly, you nodded, wanting him to do anything he wanted with you. His every word made you feel impossibly wet, almost embarrassingly so.
Without missing a beat, he kissed your clit over your panties, making you whimper as you thrust your hips up toward his face. “Patience, baby,” he mumbled, tonguing you through the thin fabric of your underwear. “Gonna make you feel good.” Using his teeth, he pulled your panties down, your slick stringing along as he got them to your knees before using his hands to pull them off completely. 
The sight of your exposed cunt, wet and clenching around nothing, made Jake crazy. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admitted with a groan before he dove into your pussy, licking up your slick. He drew figure-eights over your clit before closing his lips around it and sucking, making you cry out. You felt his long fingers poke at your entrance, the stimulation leaving you a mess of moans and whimpers.
When two of his fingers pushed past your entrance, you both groaned at the feeling of him sliding inside your gummy walls. His tongue worked at your clit as he slowly scissored his fingers inside you, all while watching your reactions. “So hot,” you gasped, clawing at the bed sheets. “Fuck, Jake, gonna…” You cut yourself off, moaning loudly, when he started moving his fingers faster.
“Cum for me, sweets.” His demand seemingly made you snap as you came around his fingers in an instant. He closed his eyes as his jaw dropped in a groan, relishing the feeling of you clenching tightly around his fingers. He slowly took them out, biting his lip at how wet you were. The whine you let out once you were empty would live in his mind for the rest of his days, he decided, as he moved up the bed to come eye to eye with you.
You watched as he sucked his fingers clean of your wetness before leaning in and kissing you harshly. The taste of him mixed with your juices made you moan, grabbing at the fabric of his shirt tightly. He bit your bottom lip, pulling at it slightly before kissing you deeply once more. Your lips slotted together with ease, like two puzzle pieces.
He felt your hand travel down his stomach to the strings of his sweatpants, leaning back to watch as you undid the knot before pulling them down in a swift motion. He sat up to kick the garment off, before returning to his spot between your thighs. You couldn’t take your eyes off of him, hunger in your gaze as you inspected his cock, hard against his stomach. It was red, needy and weeping, one pronounced vein running along his shaft. More importantly, he was thick—thicker than any toys you had bought on a whim.
When you looked up at him, he must’ve caught your fear as he cupped your face in his warm palm. Kissing you gently, he brushed your hair back. “We don’t need to go any further if you don’t want us to,” he assured you, even though the hardness of his length said otherwise. “We’ll only go as far as you want to.”
You bit your lip, “Then…” Without another word, you closed a fist around his shaft, watching his eyes widen. “I want to make you feel good, too,” you whispered. You collected some of his precum, using it to glide your hand up and down at a torturous pace, your eyes never leaving his face.
“Fuck, baby,” he groaned, shoving his face in the crook of your neck. You felt his hot breaths fan over your skin, leaving goosebumps, and he moaned in your ear. His arms were braced on either side of your head, his scent invading your senses as you touched him. “Doing so well for me,” he hushed, kissing at your neck. He nudged your jawline with his nose, sucking down on your jugular. “Shit,” his hips stuttered, thrusting up into your grasp. “Go faster for me, yeah?”
You nodded, eyebrows furrowed in concentration as you picked up speed. Using your other hand to grasp his balls, you delighted in the way he groaned a little louder, your name slipping from his lips wantonly. Leaning forward, you bit down on his shoulder, flicking your tongue out just as he had before. With your lips on him, he moaned your name once more, fucking up into your hand with reckless abandon. He swore lowly as his hips stilled, ropes of thick cum spilling from his cock and onto your hands and shirt.
He stayed there momentarily, catching his breath before hovering a bit higher to watch you. Inspecting your hand, you brought it to your lips. His eyes never left your tongue as he watched it dart out to catch any drops of his seed. “You don’t know what you’re doing to me,” he sighed once you finished, wiping off any remains on your soiled tee. He pulled the tee over your head before giving you his own, still warm from being worn. 
“Go to sleep, sweets,” he mumbled against your temple as he settled in next to you. “We’ll talk in the morning, yeah?”
Your morning talk ended up with his tongue between your thighs in the shower as you struggled to keep yourself up, one leg over his shoulder. You were sure the people in the rooms next to you could hear your cries when you came on his tongue for the nth time, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to care. 
Once he thought you had cum an adequate amount of times, he carefully set you down, massaging your aching thighs as he kissed you gently. Pulling away, he leaned his forehead against yours, eyes still closed. Taking the opportunity, you pecked his lips before reaching for the body wash, giggling.
You never ended up talking about it, getting distracted by Lemon, who whined at the door when you finally came out of the bathroom. 
The rest of the road trip went similarly. You’d hold hands as he drove to your next destination, and then you’d get each other off in your motel rooms until the motel owners eventually kicked you out for disturbances. Between towns, you’d talk as if he wasn’t just knuckles deep in your heat or as if you didn’t just have his cock shoved down your throat as he fucked your face.
Words that needed to be spoken never were. Your fearful thoughts kept you from initiating the conversation that could very well destroy years of friendship with Jake.
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ONE DAY.
Finally, you had made it to Seoul. Unfortunately, a flat tire in the middle of nowhere stopped you from getting there two days before, as Chaewon wanted. Luckily, nothing did go wrong and everything seemed to be ready for tomorrow.
Tired from the long trip, both emotionally and physically, Jake offered his house for you to stay at. Without thinking, you said yes. You took his keys and unlocked the door as Jake grabbed your things from the car, Lemon pushing past your feet and into the house, eager to explore.
As she made her way around, her nails against the hardwood floor indicating where she was, you and Jake pushed your luggage into the living room before collapsing onto the couch.
“I’m so happy to be home,” he sighed, stretching his limbs. “As fun as road trips are, nothing beats sleeping in your own bed.” Glancing over at you, a million thoughts raced in his mind, but he pushed them away. He wanted to talk about what you were, the frequent hookups making his brain mush. But he could read you—he always could. You’ve always been so emotive that you made it easy, but he had your habits memorized. He knew exactly when you didn’t want to do something and that you weren’t ready for talking.
So he didn’t say anything, even though he knew it might hurt him in the long run.
Unlike your apartment or the many motels you stayed at over your trip, Jake actually had two beds. The thought of sleeping in separate rooms felt so foreign, but he told you anyway. You hummed, “Maybe I should sleep in the guest room then.” You grinned at him, “You’re probably tired of having to share a bed with me by now.”
Never, he thought.
That night, he lay in his too-empty bed, restless. Knowing you were in the same house, with only a thin wall separating you, was driving him mad. Not having you next to him, curled up against his side, drove him mad. His hand clenched around the bedsheets, where you would’ve been if you had taken up his silent plea to sleep in the same room as him.
In that moment, Jake realizes just how screwed he really is. Covering his eyes with his forearm, he quietly swore into the empty room, his heart aching. Jake had gotten so used to being so close to you, to have you by his side as he pleasured you, your high-pitched cries echoing in his ears. He knew it wouldn’t last forever and that he’d have to drive you home a few days after the wedding. Then, he didn’t know how long it’d be until he saw you again.
He wonders if everything that happened will get brushed under the rug. God, he hoped not. 
Just as he decided he’d need some sleep for the wedding tomorrow, he heard something through the wall. He held his breath, straining his ears to hear the noise's source. Before long, he realized it was you, your short breaths easily passing through the wall, the sound of your slick ringing clear as day to him.
Without another thought, he ripped off his blanket and made his way to the guest room. To his surprise, you hadn’t even closed your door, his eyes blessed with the sight of you atop the bed. Neither the blankets nor the sheets were disturbed, making it clear that you hadn’t even gotten comfortable before you started. He watched in a daze as your fingers plunged in and out of your hole, your face contorted into one of drunken pleasure.
He felt himself grow hard as he stepped closer. You whimpered out his name as you rubbed harsh circles over your clit, and something inside Jake snapped.
“You must love fucking torturing me,” he rasped, roughly pulling your fingers out of your pussy and pinning your hands to the bed, leaving your body fully exposed to him. “Always touching yourself in front of me like a slut. You knew what you were doing, leaving your door open.” When you turned your head away in feigned humiliation, he used his free hand to forcibly turn your cheek. His nails dug into your jaw as he forced you to look at him.
“Do you know how crazy you make me feel?” He asked, but he narrowed his eyes at you when you went to answer. “Do you know how fucking long I’ve wanted to see you like this? Needy and begging for my cock?” His words shut up, the implication of something more making your heart race.
“Do you know how hard it’s been for me to stop myself from making you mine every night we’re together?” He growled, letting go of your hands to push your legs up against your chest. “Do you know how hard it is to refrain from kissing you every time you look at me with that look in your eye?”
Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pulled him in for a kiss, your lips meeting in a fight for dominance. His hands pushed you deeper against the bed as he pressed himself against you. His patience was wearing thin as he pulled away, only to pull off his shirt before he leaned in again. Your lips, your taste—all of you was addicting to Jake.
“Jake,” you moaned out when he attacked your neck, adding to the healing bruises from before. “‘M ready now. Please, please, make me yours,” you begged, spreading your legs wider for emphasis.
If he wasn’t hard before, he was now at your plea, a growl stuck at the back of his throat at the thought of fucking you like how he’s wanted to. “You sure, princess?” he asked, leaning back to look you in the eye.
“I’ve never been more sure,” you gasped, eyes darting from his left to right. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting.”
Jake only shook his head, pulling you in for another deep kiss. Jake swallowed your moans, a feeling of possessiveness taking over him as he fondled your breasts. “All mine,” he hissed, “you’re mine.”
He made quick work of his sleep shorts, the garment getting thrown across the room into some corner to be found in the morning. His cock was pretty as ever, and your hands instinctively went to grab at it. “Next time, baby,” he rasped, “Need to take you now.”
You cried out when you felt the tip of his length nudge against your folds, collecting your juices as he ran his cock up and down your cunt. A broken whimper of his name ripped through your throat when he bumped your clit, his own deep moan shaking in his chest. He felt like he was losing his mind, the warmth of your pussy felt so good against his shaft, and he hadn’t even entered you yet.
You felt him line himself up at your entrance, and you tensed. Noticing, Jake left gentle kisses against your shoulder. “I’ll take care of you, pretty, just lay back, yeah?”
You nodded but felt hot tears well up in your eyes as he pushed past your entrance, a stinging burn erupting between your legs. He moved slowly, but inch by inch, the burn became more intense. “It’ll hurt more when you’re this tense, baby,” he whispered, massaging your right breast in hopes of distracting you. His lips met yours in a kiss more gentle than any that preceded it. Screwing your eyes shut, tears beaded at the corners of your eyes before they fell, disappearing into your hairline. He kissed your temple when he finally bottomed out after what felt like years. “Doing so well for me, sweets.”
He stilled for a few minutes despite wanting nothing more but to drill into you. Leaving kisses all over your face and neck, he observed as your face relaxed more and more. “You can move now,” you whispered, out of breath.
“Yeah? Trust me?”
“Mhm,” you closed your eyes—the sting had disappeared, and now you just felt stuffed. “I trust you, Jake.”
Your admittance made his head spin as he dropped his head onto your shoulder. Slowly, he pulled out until just the tip was inside before thrusting into you. A low moan rumbled in your chest as Jake sucked at your neck. He repeated the motion, rocking into you slowly until you got used to it.
After a while, the pain turned to pleasure as you clenched around him, making him gasp against your skin. “Faster, please,” you begged, linking your ankles around his back. “Need you.”
Just as you asked, Jake upped his pace, moving steadily. He sat back gripping your waist as he thrust into you. He watched for your reactions, eyes darting from your scrunched up face to the bouncing of your breasts down to the jiggle of your thighs with each thrust. His speed picked up until he was pistoling into you, broken moans pushing past your lips as his hips slapped against yours.
The sound of your wetness was so obscene, if you were in a normal state of mind you would’ve been embarrassed. But the drag of his cock against your walls and the way his pelvic bone grazed your clit every time he bottomed out was deliciously addicting.  “Feels so fucking good,” Jake moaned, “you’re gripping me so tightly—fuck!—gonna make me cum, princess.” Falling forward, he braced himself on one arm, reaching for your puffy clit with the other. He rubbed fast cirlces on your clit as he pounded into you, the sound of skin against skin turning you on more. You willed yourself to keep your eyes open, to bask in the sight of Jake slowly losing control of his movements as he got closer to his own release.
The sight of him hunched over you, eyes glassy as he furrowed his brows in concentration, beads of sweat dripping from his hairline, causing his blond hair to stick to his forehead, was so fucking hot. You gripped at his arms, muscles bulging as he struggled to keep himself up.
You felt an orgasm fast approaching, your own whines coming out higher and higher. “Fu—ck, Jake,” you swore, “I’m so close, please, I—”
At your words, Jake’s hips moved faster, hitting the spot that made you see stars over and over again. “You look so beautiful like this,” he uttered breathlessly. “Fuck, I love you.” The words spilled from his lips unintentionally, the way your walls clenched around him knocked any sense of thought out of him, his only coherent thought being to make you cream around his cock.
His words echoed in your brain as you came with a cry of his name. The feeling of you cumming sent Jake into overdrive as he pistoned into you, overstimulating you as he chased his release. After a moment, he stilled, coming inside of your cavern. You felt his release paint your walls white, bringing you into a second orgasm.
He stayed inside you for a while, hovering over your tired body as he caught his breath. Eventually, he pulled out, his cum spilling from your clenching hole, making him sigh in pleasure at the sight. He kissed your temple before moving to get off the bed. You watched, spent, as he searched for his shirt in the dark, the hallway light dimly illuminating the room. For a second, you were scared that he was just going to go back to his own room, but after he found the shirt, he came back to your side. Wordlessly, he wiped you clean, even wiping at the beads of sweat that accumulated on your skin.
Tired, he let himself collapse beside you, pulling you against his chest.
“Did you mean it?” you asked in a small voice.
“Hmm?”
“When… When you said you loved me.”
You felt him tense under you for a second before relaxing. His arms held you tighter against his chest, letting you listen to his rapid heartbeat.
“Yeah.” He paused, the cogs in his brain turning as he searched for the right words to say. Nothing he came up with seemed right; he opted to stay silent and waited for your response. When it didn’t come, he looked down at you, only to be met with your sleeping face. He sighed, his breath shaky as his eyes burned. He pressed a single kiss on the crown of your head. “Good night, sweets.”
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THREE HOURS.
Chaewon had been spamming your phone, the distinct buzzing of each message waking you up. Jake slept through the sound of you typing, exhausted from the night before.
Where are you???? Get your ass here NOW before I come and get you myself
Are you even awake? 
Girl, if you’re not here in the next hour I’ll punt you into the next century
Swearing, you carefully slipped out of Jake’s grasp. When he didn’t stir, you shook him gently. He mumbled incoherently, wrapping his arms around your middle as he deeply inhaled your scent. “Jake, we gotta’ wake up now. Chaewon’s having a cow and I don’t think we want to upset the bride today.”
At your words, Jake murmured something you couldn’t hear before finally peeling himself off you, looking at you with sleepy eyes and messy hair. “Wha’ time isit?” he slurred, stretching his arm.
“It’s twelve, so we have to go. Like, now.”
Thankfully, that seemed to wake Jake up, and he sat up quickly. “Damn, okay,” he pushed his hair back. “Get changed and everything, and I’ll meet you at the door.”
You watched as he leaped off the bed, picking up his soiled clothes from the floor. He made his way to his own room, and you heard the shower turn on. In the time it took for you to brush your teeth and get changed, Jake had showered and hastily shoved on some comfy clothes, his attire being left with Heeseung as well.
The drive to the hotel where the bridal and groom's parties were getting ready was quiet, partially from sleepiness and partially because of the unfinished conversation from last night, filling the air with thick tension. His hand rested on the middle console, palm up, but you didn’t take it.
When you got to the hotel, you were quickly ushered to your respective rooms by other bridesmaids and groomsmen. Jake could only watch as you disappeared behind a room door before getting shoved into one himself.
He didn’t see you again until later, when the wedding was about to start, and the pairs were meant to walk down the aisle. Since you were Chaewon’s maid of honour and Jake was Heeseung’s best man, you were paired together. When you finally saw him, you felt the air leave your lungs. His hair was styled so it was out of his face, save for a few strands that hooked over his forehead. His suit was entirely dark blue, from his blazer to his tie, and it made him look unfairly handsome.
Your mouth felt dry as you linked arms with him, listening for your cue to walk.
Unbeknownst to you, he felt similar. You looked stunning in your baby blue satin dress, and he thought it hugged your curves in such a way that he almost wanted to cover you up so only he could see you like this. His heart pounded in his chest at your touch. 
“You look beautiful,” he whispered as you waited, making the couples behind you snicker. You blushed, your face warming as you rubbed your lips together anxiously.
“As do you,” you mumbled, looking into his eyes shyly. “You look really good.”
He opened his mouth to say something else, but the doors opened up, and that was your cue. The venue was gorgeous, as expected since Chaewon planned most of it. The sight of the aisle and the altar made your heart soar for her, and you absentmindedly rubbed at your own ring finger the closer you and Jake got to the end of the aisle.
You sent him a smile before you retreated to your respective spots. As the rest of the couples and the flower girl made their way down the aisle, you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on Jake. You wondered how you looked, staring over at the best man when there were so many things you should’ve been paying attention to.
Clearing your throat, you looked forward.
When you finally saw Heeseung, your heart clenched. You fisted the fabric of your dress as you watched him wait for his bride-to-be. This motion didn’t go unseen by Jake, whose jaw clenched.
When Chaewon appeared from behind the door, the room erupted into cheers as everyone stood. Tears sprang to your eyes as you watched your cousin, veiled, take small steps closer to her future husband. You knew your makeup was going to be ruined by the end of the night, but you couldn’t help but cry once she reached Heeseung. You glanced at him once more before staring down at your heeled feet.
The rest of the ceremony went off without a hitch, Chaewon and Heeseung’s beautiful vows leaving everyone in tears. You had even caught Jake wiping away some stray tears. You watched with a sense of longing as Chaewon and Heeseung made their way down the aisle. You didn’t realize that Jake had been staring at you the whole time, not even when it was your turn to walk out.
The banquet was to start half an hour later. You and Jake had gotten separated in the commotion outside of the venue hall. You heard him call out to you, but you couldn’t see him over the large, bustling crowd of wedding guests. Knowing that you’d see him at the banquet, you slipped further into the crowd until you found a balcony. Peaking your head out, you let out a breath of relief when there was no one there.
The sun was setting, casting an orange hue over everything it touched. A beautiful sight, you thought as you leaned against the railing. You closed your eyes as you thought back on the wedding. It had been the exact wedding the Chaewon had planned years ago, but you couldn’t find it within yourself to be truly happy. How could you, after all, after watching Heeseung look at Chaewon with such love and adoration? 
When someone called your name, you turned around to see Jake standing there, slightly unkempt from the crowd. “I finally found you,” he heaved, gesturing back to the hall that was still full of busy wedding goers. “Man, the banquet is literally in the room over from the wedding hall—they couldn’t be a little more patient in moving over?” He shook his head in mock disbelief as he joined you.
He looked at you, ready to make a joke, but paused when he saw your face. His smile dropped as he turned to face you fully. “You’re crying,” he noted, cupping your cheek. You blinked in surprise, having not noticed how tears had welled up in your eyes. “What’s wrong, sweets?”
You turned around, pulling your face out of his grasp, wrapping your arms around yourself. “I don’t know,” you murmured, voice breaking. “I just… when I saw them—”
“Is it Heeseung?”
His cold, clipped tone shocked you. When you looked at him in confusion, his expression had hardened. “What—”
“Why does seeing him with her still hurt you? I thought you were fine,” his words were level, but you heard the slight tremble of his voice.”You said you moved on.” 
Sputtering, you turned to him with an indignant glare. “Jake, it’s not that easy—”
Scoffing, he took a step back from you. “So what? The last two weeks meant nothing to you? Last night meant nothing to you? I…” He gripped at his hair, stressed. “I told you I loved you, and you’re still crying over Heeseung?”
It dawned on you how he perceived your words, and an unsettling fear grabbed at you as you went to explain yourself. “What? Jake, no, I’m not—”
He gave you no room to speak, interrupting you hastily, words tumbling from his lips as though he had no control of them. “I have always loved you,” he confessed, voice breaking. “Ever since we were kids, for me, it’s always been you. I came to you because I love you. I spent these last two weeks with you because I love you, and I want nothing more than for you to see me as more than a best friend or… or someone who’s convenient for you.” You watched in horror as his eyes watered, stepping forward to grab his arm to explain, but he ripped his arm away from your grasp. “I can see now that you never will.”
“Jake, wait—!” Your cry fell on empty ears as he turned to leave you alone on the balcony, his back feeling unreachable as he reached for the doorknob to go back inside. At this point, the crowd in the hall had dispersed, and you were sure the banquet was starting. But none of that mattered—what mattered was stopping Jake from leaving before you could tell him the truth.
Swallowing your fears, you called out his full name. You sighed in relief when he paused, but your hands shook at your sides as you forced your next words out. “He made me feel like I was unlovable,” you uttered, voice just barely above a whisper. For a second, you were worried he hadn’t heard you, but he turned his head slightly. Finding the courage to continue, you stepped forward. “I’m not… I don’t love Heeseung, Jake. I haven’t loved Heeseung for a really fucking long time.”
But what happened between us gave me all of these terrible thoughts that I didn’t…. That I don’t know how to handle. I thought I was perfectly fine dealing with my insecurities on my own before you came.” He turn his head more, allowing you to see his profile. You saw him open his mouth, ready to retort, but you narrowed your eyes at him. “Sim Jaeyun, if you interrupt me again, I’ll kick your ass.” Your threat wasn’t all that threatening, considering the fact that you were near to tears, but he listened and shut his mouth.
“When you showed up at my apartment, I thought I was going mad. You made me feel like that. It was suddenly so different between us and I didn’t know what to do. You kept saying these things like you were trying to fluster me, and I couldn’t tell if you were being genuine or if my fucked up mind was just creating scenarios where you might actually love me.” Tears were freely falling now, smudging your eye makeup and leaving its trail in your foundation. You stepped closer to Jake, who had fully turned to face you. You stopped, leaving a few meters between you as if you were scared of crossing an invisible boundary.
“Last night was the best night of my life. And every time before that, you made me feel complete and made me so happy, Jake. You made me feel… normal. It felt like I was myself again for the first time in months, but there was something else there, too.” You looked into his eyes, unable to tell what he was thinking. You swallowed thickly, “I don’t love Heeseung, and you’re a fool if you think I do. But it’s so fucking hard to shake off the feeling that at any point you could find someone better, someone who’s prettier, or—”
Jake was quick to close the distance between you, his lips downturned into a scowl as he glowered at you. “Just shut up already,” he spat, cupping your face in his hands and bringing his lips to yours. You felt a thousand times lighter as you kissed him back with the same fervour as him, your tears mixing into the kiss. He dropped a hand to rest on your hip, bringing you flush against him. Once he pulled away, you were both breathless. He rested his forehead against yours as his shoulders rose and fell quickly.
When he finally opened his eyes, gone was the pain and hurt. Now, when he looked at you, he looked with adoring eyes. “I love you,” he whispered. “You might not believe me yet, but just know that whenever I look at you, all I see is the person I want to spend my life with. There isn’t anyone better or prettier—there’s only you.”
He met your eyes before kissing you again. 
You looked into his eyes once you pulled away, a thousand thoughts swirling behind your irises. “I love you,” you breathed out. You reached for his hand, interlocking your fingers together as you smiled tearfully at him. “Help me believe you.”
Jake laughed in disbelief, bringing you close to his chest.
“We have all the time in the world to get there, sweets.”
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©WONLOVIE please do not plagiarize, repost, translate, or copy any of my works.
3K notes · View notes
smileysuh · 1 year
Text
sapiosexual
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🌙 staring. Seungcheol x afab!Reader 
🔮 preview. “You’re a beautiful, bright, young woman, and you’re agreeing to be a companion to some middle aged psych nut who hardly has enough time for you-” you both laugh a little at the way he refers to himself, “compensation is a must.”
cw/ tw. daddy kink/issues, size/shoulder/back kink, contractual relationship, unspecified age difference, unprotected sex, choking, semi bondage, multiple sex scenes, fingering, squirting, oral (m/f receiving), baby oil massage, praise, dirty talk, hair pulling, overstim, dacryphilia, slight orgasm denial, hand kink, etc... I pet names. his: daddy. hers: gorgeous, angel, darling, my love, pretty girl, etc...
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 18.6k
🍭 aus. psychologist au, non idol au, sugar daddy au, aged up/soft dom cheol, etc...
☀️ mlist + an. dont fuck your psychologist, fuck a psychologist... and try to get a cheque while you do it 👀 (sapiosexual: the attraction to intelligence and broad af shoulders)
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1: Wednesday
“I’m here to meet someone- under the name Choi?”
The hostess nods politely. “Mister Choi has been expecting you, right this way.”
Your heart lurches in your chest at her words. While it makes sense that the man you’re meeting for your date had let the host know he’d have a plus one joining him, there’s something in the woman’s diction that suggests a certain kind of familiarity. 
The restaurant you’re in is an expensive one, and the previous man you’d met through the online sugar dating website had made something of a show of being a part owner of a place such as this, treating the staff in a way that demanded obedience- 
You really hope, for everyone’s sake, that the person you’re meeting tonight is much kinder than the last.
The hostess takes you through the main dining section of the establishment and to a more secluded area, where she motions with a hand to the one occupied table by the windows that overlook the city. 
“Your server will come by for your drink order shortly,” she tells you, giving you a quick nod and something of a knowing smile before she returns to her post, allowing you to make the final distance to the table yourself.
The man sitting with his back to you hasn’t turned around, and you take a moment to collect yourself, swallowing thickly. Your eyes scan over his broad shoulders, taking in the pretty tweed suit, the colour of charcoal, and neatly styled black hair. 
You take a deep breath and begin forward.
“Sorry I’m late,” you apologize as you reach the man you’ve been in contact with just under a week- “you know how traffic can be-”
Your words feel jumbled in your mouth as Mr. Choi stands to greet you- because, although you’d been expecting a handsome man, you hadn’t been expecting him to be godlike-
The photos he’d had on the sugar dating site had been ten out of tens, but the man in front of you is a scale breaker. 
He’s even broader up close, and tall too- looking down at you with an amused expression, eyes practically twinkling-
“It’s alright,” he tells you smoothly, voice sexier than you could have ever imagined, “I’m glad you’re here now.”
“Me too,” you breathe, blinking up at him, etching his angelic features into your brain-
“You look beautiful,” Mr. Choi says, taking in the dress you’d spent three hours picking out-
His eyes don’t linger anywhere in particular, they’re quick to move back up to your face, and part of you almost wishes he’d stared at your chest just a little longer-
“Thank you,” you say, remembering you’ve yet to respond to his compliment.
“Would you like to sit?” he asks next, and you realize you’ve been staring too long, quickly tearing your gaze from him to give a curt nod. 
The two of you take your seats, and you adjust in your chair, letting out a shaky laugh. “I’m also sorry if I’m a little awkward- I feel like my social skills took a hit during the pandemic.” 
The man in front of you nods. “That’s understandable. The aftereffects of global isolation during covid is something that’s going to be studied by psychologists in depth in the coming years. You’re not alone in your feelings, believe me.”
You blink, thinking through his words. “Thank you-” you stutter, “for the reassurance, I mean.”
“Of course,” he nods again. “I think you’ll find I can be very reassuring, if need be.” 
Your skin tingles, and you can’t believe that you’d nearly let your best friend talk you out of this date.
‘Psychologists can be dangerous!’ Seungkwan had insisted, ‘One moment you think he’s your boyfriend, the next he’s hypnotized you to cover up a murder-’
You’d told him to stop rewatching Hannibal.
But you have to admit… Mr. Choi, or Seungcheol, as he’d called himself when he’d first messaged you, he definitely looks like Hannibal. 
Broad, handsome, tweed suit and all-
“I can see you’re thinking hard about something,” the man sitting across from you notes.
“Sorry, I was just-” you bite at your lip, “was just thinking that you’re probably really good at your job.”
His brows raise at this, and then he’s smiling, “Oh?”
“Yeah, you erm- you have a really calming voice and presence, and I mean- obviously you know what you’re talking about-”
“Are you in the market for a psychologist?” 
“No-” you answer quickly, “I mean, I don’t think so- that’s not why I matched with you at least.” 
The amused smile remains on his face, and it’s making it hard for you to look at him- 
He keeps his gaze so fixed on you, and he exudes confidence on top of the calm- 
Confidence that’s making your heart thump louder and louder in your chest-
“Hello, Mr. Choi,” the arrival of your waiter breaks the building tension you’re feeling. The question “How has your evening been so far?” confirms that Seungcheol knows the staff, and the pleasant way in which he responds tells you that you’re on a date with a good man. 
After a brief back and forth, Mr. Choi orders himself an Old Fashioned, and you ask for a gin and tonic.
Then, you’re once more alone with the man whose gaze is enough to have your pussy clenching with interest-
“I saw you were new to the site,” Seungcheol notes, and you can’t believe he’d bothered to look for that information on your profile, let alone remember it. “How’s your experience been so far?”
You take a moment to collect your thoughts before responding. “If I’m being honest, I talked to one person for a while, and when we met, he turned out to be- just- not a good person. So when you favourited me, and I thought you looked nice, I told myself it would be better to meet up in person without too much back and forth first.” 
“That sounds logical,” he agrees. “I’m sorry your first experience wasn’t what you thought it would be, but there is a silver lining, you’re here now.” 
“I’m here now,” you echo with a smile, and the waiter returns with your beverages.
Seungcheol had invited you for drinks and dessert. Seungkwan had insisted that meant drinks and sex, but your view of things is proved to be correct when Mr. Choi orders the ‘dessert tasting menu’ and the waiter scurries off again. 
“Should we make a toast?” you ask, allowing your eyes to trail over Seungcheol’s handsome face- his strong brow and pretty lips-
“We should,” he confirms, grabbing his glass and lifting it, “what would you like to toast to?”
“Being here now.”
“To being here now.” Seungcheol allows the lip of his glass to clink gently against your own before bringing it to his mouth, and you each drink to the moment.
“So,” you say when you set your cup down, “why drinks and dessert instead of dinner?”
“Dinners can be long, and full of expectations,” he tells you. “Drinks and dessert allows you to leave earlier, if you’d like to.”
“You seem like the kind of man who has everything figured out,” you muse.
The side of his mouth quirks into a charming half smile, and he leans forward slightly in his chair, assessing you with dark eyes- “Does that excite you?”
“Yes-” the word slips out before you can stop it.
The man in front of you leans back, satisfied. 
“What, exactly, are you looking for right now?” he prompts. “Your bio was… somewhat vague.”
“I guess-” you take a sip of your drink. “I guess it depends on who it is.”
“How about you start by telling me your thought process behind creating an account,” he suggests.
You’re momentarily distracted by the way his thumb rubs up and down the side of his cup- dragging through droplets of condensation gathered on the glass-
“My best friend loves Marilyn Monroe,” you find yourself saying.
This is clearly not the answer Seungcheol had expected, as he quirks that inquisitive brow of his at your words, and you’re quick to continue. 
“His favourite movie of hers is Gentlemen Prefer Blondes- and I’m not kidding, he’s been bleaching his hair since the tenth grade because of it- and there’s this quote- something like- ‘it’s just as easy to fall in love with a rich man as a poor man.’ And I just sort of thought- I’m tired of putting a lot into relationships with people who give nearly nothing in return. At least with something like this- I’d be guaranteed something- you know?”
“It sounds like you’ve spent a lot of your life trying to make other people happy,” he notes smoothly. “I can understand why you’d want to be on the receiving end. Everyone deserves reciprocation.” 
He pauses, swirling his glass, but you can tell there’s something else on his mind, and you wait on the edge of your seat for more.
“From what you’ve said,” his thumb runs up the glass again, “it sounds to me like you’re looking for a contractual type of situation, moreso than a verbal agreement. Something with that added stability.”
“That’s correct,” you nod.
The last man hadn’t ever brought up contracts or boundaries or any of the things that are mentioned when you’d looked up what sugar babying entails. 
You’re enthralled by the professional way Mr. Choi is handling himself, and you’re enjoying his crystal clear communication.
“What-” you lick your lips, “what are you looking for?” 
“As you know, I’m a psychologist,” he states. “The job comes with a lot of responsibility. I take care of a number of people with quite severe conditions, and unfortunately, regardless of my intentions, this means I’ve had less time and energy to give to people in my own life.”
He pauses to take a breath and a sip of his whisky before continuing.
“I had a fiance for a time, but it became clear to me that she wanted a child. At the time, I wasn't ready to give up my work to be present in the way a developing mind would need. I’ve been looking for a sugar baby who would understand my lifestyle. Someone to meet with once or twice a week, who would provide happy company and the emotional closeness all human beings desperately need, without some of the… expectations that traditional relationships have. Does this sound like something that could interest you?”
You find yourself quickly nodding.
“Good,” he smiles warmly at you. “I’d love to explore the exact details of a contract over drinks, and we can choose a day to do that, but for now, if you don’t mind, I think I’d like to switch the topic and focus on you a little more.”
“On me?” you blink- 
Mr. Choi’s grin widens, and the warmth meets his eyes. “Yes, you. I think it’s safe to say we’re both physically attracted to each other, but I want to know more about who you are, inside that pretty body of yours.”
You can feel your skin heating from his compliment, and you avert your gaze, grabbing at your drink to take a sip and cool yourself. “What do you want to know?”
“Let’s start with the things that make you happiest.”
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2: Thursday
“Look who finally decided to answer,” your best friend sighs loudly when you put him on speaker, and you can imagine his classic Seungkwan eye roll.
“I was sleeping,” you tell him, which only succeeds in earning you a scoff.
“And I have been waiting for details about your date since last night!” 
“I sent you a text saying it was good!”
“And then you put your phone on silent you whore!” your best friend screams, making you laugh at his antics- then his voice dips. “Did you fuck him?” 
“No, of course not-”
“You sound like you’re lying.”
“I’m not, I promise-” you roll onto your back and look up at your ceiling, letting out a breath. “Drinks and dessert literally meant drinks and dessert.” 
“Did he at least- I don��t know, feed you some of the dessert?”
“No.” 
“Oh.” The line is quiet for a moment. “Well that’s anti-climactic.”
You laugh. “First you wanted me going on dates with sugar daddies, then you were weird about Seungcheol, now you’re wishing I had fucked him-” 
“Well- did you enjoy yourself?”
“Yes.”
“Was he hot?”
You groan. “So fucking hot you don’t even know-” 
“Then I do wish you’d fucked him- you’re my best friend, and you deserve to get laid,” Seungkwan says plainly. “Also- I was only weird about this Seungcheol guy because he’s a therapist-”
“Psychologist.”
“Same thing- the point is, he’s a guy with power and a brain- that can be a deadly combination.” 
“I thought I told you to stop watching Hannibal,” you smile, enjoying the way Seungkwan turns everything into life or death.
He scoffs at your words, disregarding them. “So tell me about your date.”
“Like I said, it was good. I got there, we ordered drinks, he’s obviously like- super smart. We talked a little bit about why we’re on the site-”
“Why is he on the site? If he’s hot, rich, and smart?” Seungkwan asks. “Shouldn’t he be with- I don’t know… someone his own age? How old was he again?”
“Mid to late thirties- and there’s a reason for it actually. He mentioned a fiance who wanted kids- I think women ‘his age’ are all looking for a family, but he’s very… invested in his work,” you explain.
 “Oh. Huh.” You listen to the cogs in Seungkwan’s brain turning. “So- I guess he just wants a sugar baby to work around his busy schedule?”
“He’s looking for a companion-” you say, “but, you know, someone who can handle the fact that his work comes first.” 
“Right.” A beat, then; “So did you guys talk money?” 
“Seungkwan!”
“What!?” he yells back. “Quit beating around the bush!” 
“He didn’t just- whip a wad of cash out and give it to me,” you laugh. “He paid for everything of course, and we agreed to discuss a contract over drinks-”
“When?”
“Actually-” you look down at your phone, which has just buzzed, scanning the new text. “Coincidently, he’s texting me now.”
“Oooh! What’s he saying?!” 
“He said, ‘I really enjoyed your company last night. Would you like to join me for drinks tomorrow at eight?’” 
“Wow, this dude works fast- are you sure you didn’t suck him off or anything?”
“Seungkwan!” 
“I just mean- two dates in three days- this is fast.”
“Yeah well,” you shrug while texting out a confirmation response for Seungcheol, “if you’d seen Mr. Choi in person, you’d be hoping things go fast too.”
“Is he really that sexy? This isn’t just- your old man kink?”
“I dont have an old man kink-”
“Sure you don’t.”
You groan. “Seungkwan, just trust me. This man-” you swallow thickly, “he could choke me out- and I’d say thank you daddy.”
“Right, but let’s hope he doesn’t though.” 
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3: Friday
Part of you isn’t surprised that Seungcheol has a study in his home, but another part of you wonders if this man is really someone you should be entertaining, with his shelves of psychology texts and autobiographies written by renowned people in his field- and the framed degrees and papers of certification-
Seungcheol is the real deal; it’s clear as day and reflected in his home.
He gives you a tour of the main floor, moving from the study to the dining room, and despite your ardent attempt at listening- it’s hard to focus. 
If he’d been godlike in the charcoal tweed suit when you’d first met him- well, you don’t even know how to describe how well he fits into a plain white dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to expose strong, bulky forearms- and then there’s the way the material stretches over his deliciously broad shoulders every time he turns his back to you-
“Now that I’ve given you a small tour, why don’t you take a seat,” he says as you enter his kitchen. “And I’ll grab us drinks. What are you feeling? Wine, water, beer, champagne-”
“Whatever you think is best,” you tell him, a little overwhelmed by the effect his home is having on you- 
The effect he is having on you. 
“I think I’d like to give you champagne,” he says, turning his back to you to open his fridge.
You find yourself nearly drooling at the brief moments you’re able to gawk at his shoulders again- and when he faces you, your eyes immediately zero in on his hands as they begin to fiddle with the bottle-
“Has anyone ever talked you through opening a bottle of champagne before?” he asks.
Your eyes meet briefly and you feel your skin heat when you admit, “not really- is there a specific way to do it?”
“I’m not sure if there’s one specific way,” Seungcheol chuckles a little, looking down at his task. “At ceremonies, sometimes they’ll use a sword and knock the top of the neck clean off- but for our purposes, and to avoid breaking anything with the cork if it shoots off, I prefer utilizing the cork cage,” he runs his fingers across the metal contraption on top of the bottle. “The trick is to unwind it most of the way, but keep it on so when you manuever the cork up-” his thumb runs along the seem, working at it- “it pops,” there’s a loud sound, “but it gets caught by the cork cage, and then, both are easily removed.”
He’d done the motion so professionally- a man who’s opened many a champagne bottle in his time. 
Seungcheol seems to be an expert of everything - a true wealth of knowledge - and it’s one of the sexiest things you’ve ever experienced. 
You watch him pour two glasses of the bubbly liquid, and then he gingerly slides one across the marble island countertop, “I think you’ll enjoy this.”
He watches you with an amused expression while you raise the champagne to your lips, and when your eyes widen at the taste, he grins.
“It’s really good,” you say, toying with the stem of your glass. 
Now it’s your turn to watch him take a sip- and you’re blown away by how sexy he can be while simply drinking- his adam’s apple bobbing-
You wanna lick his neck.
You wanna lick his neck so bad-
“Should we get down to business?” he asks.
You wanna get down on something- and it’s not business. 
“Er- yes, we should,” you agree, shifting the way you’re seated on the bar stool at his counter-
Your panties are sticking to your core and it’s a little uncomfortable- 
You have no idea how this night is going to pan out, no idea if you’ll actually end up in his bed- so you’ve worn a beautiful, silky, matching set- its one drawback is the way the material sticks to  you when you’re even slightly aroused- and you’ve been aroused since the moment Seungcheol opened the door to his home and invited you in.
“Since this is a contract we’re making together, I held myself back from writing one up,” he explains. “I was thinking we could discuss it verbally, and I’ll write up a copy of what we’ve talked about after you go home tonight-” 
You feel your expression fall a little and Seungcheol pauses, expert eyes assessing you. 
“Is something wrong?” he asks.
“No,” you assure him, swallowing thickly and averting your gaze, “that sounds like a good idea.”
There are a few more moments of silence, and then Seungcheol rests both hands on the countertop, leaning forward, voice dipping when he says, “Darling, as much as I’d love for you to stay over tonight, I promised myself I wouldn’t fuck you until the third date.” 
Your skin feels electrified, and you gawk at the gorgeous man, who looks down at you with an amused grin.
You nearly shock yourself when the words “why not?” tumble past your lips, and his affectionate smile widens at your question.
“We’ve hardly discussed expectations,” he answers smoothly. “It would be… unwise for me to skip those important steps, to give you time to consider your options.”
“My options?”
“I am older than you,” he points out, “and there’s still a chance you might decide you want someone who can give you more of his time. I want you to be sure about all of this.”
“I am sure,” you insist.
“You think you are,” he muses, bringing his champagne to his lips, “but until you see a finalized document, you shouldn’t be agreeing to anything.”
“You won’t hurt me-” you tell him, “I trust you.”
“Although we only just met,” he points out. “If you trust me at all, trust in this process, okay, Sweetheart?”
You swallow any words of insistence that threaten to bubble up out of you, nodding and taking a sip of your own drink.
“So,” he lets out a sigh, “we discussed a few of my expectations when we first met, do you remember what they were?”
“You were looking for a companion of sorts, who could manage you being at work frequently,” you respond, feeling pleased when he nods and smiles at you. “Someone to meet up with once or twice a week.”
“Very good, Angel,” he praises you. “While it’s implied, I’d like to solidify what you might call a key condition.”
You’re practically on the edge of your seat, waiting for him to continue, your interest piqued.
“Any contract you’d sign would come with a loyalty clause.” He pauses for a moment, eyes searching your own. “Do you understand what that entails?”
“I think so,” you nod. “It would be an agreement that while I’m seeing you, I wouldn’t be entertaining anyone else. We’d be exclusive.”
“That’s my smart girl,” he smiles. “Even though I don’t have much time for you, I’d provide for you to live comfortably when I’m not around, in the hopes that, when we are together, we’re both committed to making the best of it.” 
You love the way that sounds.
“Which brings me to my next point,” he continues, “monthly allowances. I’ll cover your food, rent, utilities- anything you need, and provide extra spending money for clothing, jewelry, etcetera.” 
“Wow, that’s-” you feel your eyes widening, “that’s very generous of you.”
“It’s really not,” he insists. “You’re a beautiful, bright, young woman, and you’re agreeing to be a companion to some middle aged psych nut who hardly has enough time for you-” you both laugh a little at the way he refers to himself, “compensation is a must.”
You have to stop yourself from happily chirping an ‘if you say so daddy’ at the man that is so close to becoming everything you’ve ever wanted for yourself-
“On top of our one-on-one interactions,” Seungcheol says, “I’d also like for you to accompany me to professional events, but I’d need you to be discreet. On top of a loyalty clause, I might have you sign a nondisclosure act- how does that sound to you?”
You consider it for a moment. “I’m not the type to go tell people about my personal life- and other than my best friend, no one even knows I was on the sugar site-”
“Your friend who loves Marilyn Monroe and bleaches his hair?” Seungcheol asks with an amused expression.
“You remembered-” you laugh, heart warming to know how many details he’s held onto in regard to your first meeting.
“The NDA can exclude your close friend, we all need a confidant.”
“Thank you,” you swallow, “I think- if it allows me to talk to Seungkwan, signing a NDA would be okay.”
“Perfect,” Seungcheol nods, drinking the last of his champagne. “We’ve covered a few of the most important parts of an agreement, so I think maybe now is a good time to grab another important document that I need you to look over.”
“Oh?”
“Stay here for a moment, I’ll be right back,” Seungcheol assures you, flashing you a quick wink before exiting the kitchen.
It’s almost torturous to be alone anywhere in Seungcheol’s home without him, and part of you is inclined to follow him around like a lost, needy puppy-
You finish your drink while you wait, taking breaths to calm yourself, afterall, he’d said he wouldn’t be fucking you tonight- therefore, there’s not much for you to worry about.
Seungcheol returns shortly, holding a dark leather file folder, which he offers to you.
“What’s this?” you ask, not wanting to open it without being prompted to- but your curiosity is as high as ever.
“Separate from our sugar agreement, this is a bdsm contract. It has a list of kinks and other things, as well as a section for you to fill out, detailing what you’re comfortable - and more importantly - what you’re uncomfortable with. I’d like you to take it home, look it over, and if you have any questions, let me know.”
“Right-” you stand up, holding the file folder to your chest-
Any words that you were thinking of saying disappear when you look up at Seungcheol, once more marveling at your size difference and how beautiful he is-
“You’re easily distractable,” he grins, pinching at your chin gently, “aren’t you, Angel?”
“Yes sir,” you mumble-
Easily dazed too.
“My driver will take you home now,” the (much too sexy) psychologist tells you. “His name is Seokmin, you’ll probably have to remind him to give you his number. He’ll be available to you from now on if you need to go anywhere.”
“You have a driver?” you blink- shocked at how he’s able to afford all of this-
You realize he must come from old money- and you’re appalled you hadn’t noticed it before.
He doesn’t carry himself in the way a man who’d made a name for himself would- he has an air of confidence- a confidence that runs deep and is backed up by family money.
“Yes, darling,” Seungcheol grins, “we have a driver.”
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4: Saturday
You’ve always loved having movie night with your best friend, but tonight, he’s not interested in movies. Seungkwan is easily distractable - a little like you, you suppose - and when you’d arrived over an hour ago, he’d immediately insisted on knowing every detail about your experience with the man he now refers to as ‘Psych daddy.’
On top of being distractable, Seunkwan is easy to please, and you manage to avoid mentioning the BDSM contract for a good long while, instead focusing on Seungcheol’s hot driver, who Seungkwan finds on instagram within five minutes.
“No way- first Psych Daddy is a ten out of ten, and now his driver is hot too?” Seungkwan bellows while mad scrolling through Seokmin’s profile. “Are you sure we’re not in some weird porn dream? You’re not gonna get tag teamed are you?”
“Seungkwan!” you scream, gently smacking him across the shoulder in shock.
“We were both thinking it!” he insists, shoving you back.
“I’ll have you know that we were not both thinking it,” you state with just as much certainty. 
“But you mentioned how nice the guy was when he dropped you off last night and we called for like five minutes before you hung up on me to go to bed!”
“Yeah, in the context that Seungcheol is really nice to everyone that works for him, despite being-”
“One of the youngest, sexiest psych daddies in the city, yeah, yeah-” Seungkwan waves his hand, “Stop rubbing it in.”
“Have you been researching my boyfriend again?” you ask, thoroughly amused.
“Boyfriend?” Seunkwan eyes you up and down, sneering. “Is that what we call dom daddies now?” 
“If he makes you sign a loyalty clause and a NDA, I think I can call him whatever I want, can’t I?” you point out. “And you avoided my question- you’ve definitely been googling Cheol again.”
“Been googling myself to pictures of pysch daddy-” Seungkwan says suggestively before asking, “He made you sign an NDA?”
“Not yet,” you sigh, “and don’t worry, we’ve discussed it and it will exclude you- I can tell you anything I want to.”
“Shit, did you tell him my name? Do you think he’ll accept me as a patient if he knows I’m your best friend?”
“Since when do you need a psychologist?” you laugh.
“Uh,” Seungkwan’s brows raise, “Bestie, have you seen my life? I definitely need someone to confide in who knows what the fuck he’s talking about.”
“Ouch,” you touch your heart, pretending to be wounded. “Since when did you not like crack gremlin advice?”
“Since you put down your crack gremlin hat and became a sugar baby to a hot psychologist,” Seungkwan sighs, taking one last look at Seokmin’s grinning face before he puts his phone down and focuses entirely on you. “But go back a few steps and talk to me about this loyalty clause- psych daddy sends you home with a ton of papers to sign, huh?”
“More than you could imagine.”
Your best friend looks you up and down with suspicion, brow raising in a silent prompt for more info.
When you remain quiet, Seungkwan sighs. “Fine, don’t tell me,” but after a beat, he asks, “Was it a sex list or something?”
You’re always stunned by how intuitive your best friend can be.
Upon reading your reaction, Seungkwan’s eyes widen and he grabs at your arm, nearly jumping with excitement. “No way!” he yells in your ear. “He did send you home with a sex list! Show me, show me, show me!” 
You look to your bag and before you can even reach for it, Seungkwan is darting past you and retrieving the papers. “Holy shit-” he breathes, scanning the document with eyes full of something like perverted excitement. “A checklist for kinks?”
“Yup.”
“Choking, yes. Spanking, fuck yeah- bondage-” he grins at you, “looks like someone’s a little slut for psych daddy.”
“Oh my god,” you groan, reaching for the papers, but he launches himself off the couch to evade you. “If you’re gonna be like this, I don’t want to show you.”
“Fine, I’ll be nice,” Seungkwan says, but he’s still reading the list, and his voice is lacking any real sincerity. “Okay so most of these are straightforward-”
“You watch way too much porn,” you sigh.
He practically growls at you. “As I was saying- most of these are straightforward, and you’ve filled out the ones I would have expected you to- but some of these are things even I have never heard of- like, what the fuck is…” he carefully sounds out the next word, “Quirofilia?”
“Honestly- the ones I didn’t know about, I just sort of skipped over, hoping maybe you would know- but…” you can’t stop the sly grin that works its way onto your lips, “I guess Cheol did say I could call him if I had any questions…”
“At this point, it’s almost like this list is purposefully vague on some kinks-” Seungkwan sighs, joining you on the couch again. “I bet Psych daddy has been waiting for you to call him for extra clarification.”
“We could google it,” you point out.
“Definitely not,” Seungkwan says quickly. “Call daddy, and put him on speaker.”
“Oh, so he’s just daddy now?” you tease, pulling out your phone. 
“Call him.”
“Hmm… maybe I’ll text,” you decide. “He could be busy.”
“That’s no fun,” Seunkwan whines, pouting out his lower lip.
“Too bad,” you tell him, typing in a quick message. “I said, ‘hey, whenever you have time, I have a few questions about some of the terms on the kink list.’”
“Add a smiley face,” your friend urges, “so he knows it’s like- good questions.”
You add a happy emoji, and hit send. Then you put your phone down, reaching for the papers from Seungkwan. 
“He might not answer anytime soon-” you say- just as your phone buzzes the familiar ringtone that you’ve only given to one person.
Both you and Seungkwan stare at your ringing phone, and then your best friend grins at you. 
“This guy is so whipped for you it’s crazy- are you sure you haven’t sucked his dick?”
“Oh my god stop!” you groan, “and be quiet or I can’t answer-”
“I’ll be quiet,” he insists, pretending to lock his mouth shut and throw away the key.
With one final warning glare, you turn your focus to your phone, answering the call. “Hello?” 
“Hey, gorgeous,” comes Seungcheol’s unmistakable smooth drawl- god, he makes your mouth fucking water- “So you got around to looking at the kink list.”
He’s so god damned confident- and when you look up at Seungkwan, you see he’s just as shook by your new lover as you are.
“Uh, yes,” you clear your throat. “There are just a few terms I’m unfamiliar with, and- I know I could look them up, but you said to call you if I had questions-”
“Of course Angel, I’d love to help talk you through it.”
Your panties are wet.
They’re wet, and your best friend is nearly falling off the couch from how seductive your new sugar daddy is.
“What kinks are you unfamiliar with?” Seungcheol prompts, and you can practically hear him smiling at the way he’s taking your breath away on a freaking phone call- 
“There’s this one,” your eyes scan over the word Quirofilia, and you do your best not to mangle it the way Seungkwan had when you relay it to Cheol.
“Quirofilia,” he repeats, teaching you the proper pronunciation with the calm, pleasant tone you’re starting to fall in love with. “It’s another term for a hand kink.”
Now it’s your turn to echo, and you say “A hand kink,” while blinking at your friend.
“Yes, angel,” Seungcheol chuckles on the other end. “If you check off the box for receiving, you’d indicate that you’d be more than comfortable with me touching you frequently. For lack of a better term, it goes hand in hand with a number of other kinks- spanking and choking for example, or finger sucking.”
“And for giving?” you question, having already checked off a yes for what he’s just described.
“For giving…” he clears his throat, “well, you’d let me pay for you to get manicures- maybe let me choose the colours and styles-” there’s another pause, then “I have to admit, I did notice that you have nice hands the first night we met.”
“Really?” your heart lurches in your chest and Seungkwan grabs a pillow to bite while listening in on a conversation that’s getting sexier and sexier- “What did you like about them?”
“They’re smaller than mine, for one. I’m sure we can both imagine how pretty they’d look wrapped around something… substantially bigger.” 
Your best friend spasms, practically screaming into the pillow, and you can’t help the way your own jaw drops at the statement- 
Are you about to have phone sex with Cheol in front of your best friend?
Do you need to get a room?
“We can discuss it in detail when I see you next,” Seungcheol says, cutting off your horny thoughts. “Are there any other kinks you’ve had trouble with?”
“I mean-” part of you wants to go through the whole list and pretend not to know things just to keep him on the phone- “if we’re going to discuss these all in detail when I see you next- maybe I should just wait till then?”
You can’t believe you’re cock blocking yourself just because Seungkwan is here.
“We can do that,” Seungcheol says smoothly. 
In the background, you hear someone say his name, and you find yourself asking, “did I catch you at a bad time?” suddenly worried you’ve interrupted something important.
“Of course not, angel, I wouldn’t have called you if I couldn’t step away for a few minutes.” There’s a pause then, “I’m at a conference this weekend, flew out this morning.”
“Oh,” your heart deflates a little.
“I was tempted to invite you,” Seungcheol says, calming the uneasiness you’re feeling. “But seeing as you’ve not signed anything, and I already had plans with colleagues, I figured this wouldn’t be the best first trip to take you on.”
This excites you again. “Do you have somewhere specific in mind for a first trip?”
“Somewhere warm,” he answers smoothly, a small chuckle following a moment later. “Anyways, I won’t be that available tomorrow, you caught me at a good moment tonight.”
“Well… will you be back on Monday?” you question.
Another small laugh, then, “Are you that eager to see me, gorgeous?”
“Maybe.” You eye Seungkwan who’s still screaming into the pillow. “But I mean- I remember what you said about needing a sugar baby that fits your schedule, so, I don’t want to pressure you to see me the day you get back from a work conference-”
“That’s very thoughtful of you, angel,” his smooth voice calms your anxieties. “I do have quite a busy week, a few things aren’t pinned down yet, can I let you know when I have more details?”
“Yes, of course-” you bite at your lip. “I should let you get back to your colleagues- thanks for calling me and talking me through uh- Quirofilia.”
You hear him take a deep breath, and then, Seungcheol lets out something like a groan- “I’m tempted to ask what you checked off for it.”
His words go straight to your pussy and after a moment of silence you ask, “Do you want me to tell you?”
“No,” he responds, “It will give me something to think about tonight if you don’t tell me.”
“Okay,” you grin at the way he’s toying with himself- ego fuelled by the idea of him thinking about you- “I’m excited to talk more about this with you when I see you next.”
“Me too, angel.”
“Have a great time at your conference daddy.” 
You slap a hand over your mouth, eyes widening at the way the term of endearment just slipped out of you-
Seungcheol lets out a deep sigh that betrays how much the word has affected him, and he sounds less composed than normal when he says, “Thank you, precious, enjoy your evening.”
You hang up, and as soon as you have, Seungkwan goes ballistic, practically pouncing at you while screaming, “That was too sexy! You guys are too sexy, what the hell!?”
Laughing at his antics is easy- pretending your panties aren’t ruined is another story.
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5: Sunday
The ringtone that makes your whole body tingle with anticipation is becoming more and more familiar, and you practically launch yourself across your bed to answer your phone.
“Hi.”
A small chuckle, and a breath, then, “Hey you.”
“How's your conference going?” you ask, having not expected to hear from Cheol today.
“Good. It’s over, we finished the last meet up just before dinner. What are you up to?”
You grin to yourself, playing with the book in your lap. “I’m reading your most recent publication.”
“My most recent publication?” you can hear him smiling now too, and you enjoy the way he teases your choice of phrase. “Since when were you going out and buying my books, darling?”
“Since I saw how many you’ve done- when you showed me your library. I went out this morning and got two.”
“You could have asked, and I would have given you them for free… with a detailed note from the author.” 
“I was eager to begin reading,” you admit. “And you’re so busy- I’m still not sure when I’m seeing you next.”
“That’s actually why I called. I took a look at my schedule, and I’ve got options for you.”
“Ooh! I love options.” 
Another smile you can hear through the phone, and your heart beats a little faster. 
“I can see you alone on Friday, it’s the earliest day I have available- but if you’d like, you can accompany me to a get-together with my work colleagues on Wednesday. I know you haven’t signed any papers and we haven’t discussed anything in detail yet but… I have a good feeling about you, angel, and I’d enjoy having you there.”
“Then of course I’ll go with you to the get-together,” you announce, grinning like a school girl at the inklings of praise he bestows on you.
“That’s wonderful news, gorgeous.” - you love it when he calls you pretty pet names - “I’m sorry that this call can’t be longer- but I’ll see you Wednesday- and I’m sure I’ll find a reason to call you before then.”
“Yes, please.” 
He laughs, and the sound has your core buzzing with interest- how the hell is Seungcheol so sexy without even trying?
“Have a good night, angel, and don’t read too much of my book- they’re all depressing.”
“They’re informative,” you insist. “Have a wonderful night Cheol, and thanks for calling.”
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6: Monday
“Hi.” 
You’ve gotta stop answering your phone with a full grin- but every time Seungcheol calls you, you can’t help but get warm and fuzzy all over.
“Hi, angel.” 
And wet. Wet all over. 
Wet where it counts.
“I was just thinking about you,” you confess, toying with the page of his book that you’ve been reading.
“Funny, I was just thinking about you,” he responds, “and I have been, all day. It’s quite distracting actually.”
“Really?” Your heart leaps again.
“I was thinking about getting you something to wear to the party on Wednesday- was going to get Seokmin to drop it off at your place, but then… I realized how much I’d rather see you and give you the dress in person, to see your reaction.”
This man gives you full on heart palpitations- and it takes everything in you to clear your throat and ask, “so does this mean I’ll see you before Wednesday, or?”
“I mean… I don’t want to assume you’re free every night- but if you’re not otherwise busy tomorrow-”
“I always have time for you daddy,” you smile, “and I’ll sign a contract to prove it.”
He lets out a shaky breath, and you love that you’re having an effect on him. “That’s good to hear sweetheart. I’ll move a few things around. How does seven sound?”
“Seven sounds perfect.”
“And it will be a longer stay this time. I know I kept our last interaction at my home brief- but if you bring all the documents I gave you, we can…” he clears his throat, “discuss them in full, tomorrow, if you’d like”
“I’d love that,” you admit.
“Seokmin will be at your place to pick you up at seven then, angel. I can’t wait to see you.”
“I can’t wait either.”
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7: Tuesday
Seungcheol is a man who strives for perfection. From his home and work, all the way down to the pretty present he’s gotten for you, the box wrapped in a golden bow-
And when you open your gift to reveal an expensive red fabric just itching to be touched- you think there’s a possibility that you might very much be in love with the psychologist already.
“It’s beautiful-” you breathe, pulling the silky garment from its box to assess the length and style.
“You were wearing red when we first met,” Seungcheol tells you, “I thought to myself that I’d never seen such a gorgeous girl- when I invited you to the gettogether tomorrow, I knew there was only one colour I truly wanted to see you in.”
Your heart is having palpitations, you swear- 
“Do you-” you swallow thickly, looking up at him, “do you want me to try it on for you now?” 
It’s his turn to take a shaky breath, and after a stagnant pause, he shakes his head, “No. I think I’d like to be surprised tomorrow- besides, after we get done looking over the papers and contracts, I feel as if we’d both prefer you to be taking off clothes rather than putting them on.” 
He’s right about that.
You only wish you’d known about his affinity for the color red before you’d chosen a black lingerie set, knowing that tonight would be the night he’d finally strip you bare-
You can’t wait for him to fuck you. You honestly can’t- and all these paper signings- they’re just a formality for you. 
As far as you’re concerned, Cheol is the one- or at least, he could be the one. 
Or maybe he’s just the ‘for now,’ but regardless, for now, you want to be ravenously fucking him-
“My easily distractable darling,” he gently pinches at your chin, pulling you from your dirty thoughts. “Let’s see the papers.”
After putting the dress back in its box, you grab the purse you’d arrived with. It’s large enough to hold the folder with the documents, which you pull out next, setting it down on Seungcheol’s kitchen counter. 
“I see you’ve printed out the other documents I sent you since we last met,” he says, and you can hear the pride in his voice that you’d gone a step above and beyond what he’d asked of you. 
After your last date, wherein you’d gotten the kink list, he’d sent you an email with a link to a contractual pdf. Once you’d gone over the contract in detail on your computer, you’d printed it out, eager to sign your name- but you’d been patient, knowing he’d probably want to witness your signature being jotted down on the dotted line.
“I’m ready to sign them,” you tell him, also pulling a pen out of your purse-
“Eager angel,” he smiles, taking the seat on the barstool next to yours. “Are you sure you don’t want to read it all over one more time?”
“I’m sure,” you tell him, angling your body towards his and fiddling with your pen. 
“Alright,” Seungcheol nods, rolling up the sleeves of his white button-down, his forearms flexing. “How about you let me sign first, then you can do your own signature.”
You hold out your pen, which he accepts, and you watch the way he adjusts his glasses on the bridge of his nose when he looks down at the contract. His eyes scan over the document, and a moment later, the ballpoint pen is gliding languidly across the dotted line, his signature solidified in a binding agreement. 
“There we go,” he says smoothly, holding the pen out for you to take.
Within seconds, two signatures are on the contract, and your heart is racing just a little faster in anticipation of what’s to come next.
“And now to look over your kink list,” Seungcheol breathes, moving the signed papers to the side. 
Your heart lurches when he picks up the sheet you’ve filled in, and you stay silent while his eyes move over each line of information. 
“As much as these all interest me,” he says, “I’m pleased to see you’ve checked off giving and receiving for quirofilia.” His large hand moves to rest on top of your thigh, and he gives you a gentle squeeze, eyes shifting from the paper to your own. “Will you allow me to book a manicure for you tomorrow? In preparation for the get-together?”
“Yes, please,” you rest your hand on top of his own.
“We’ll have to get your nails matching your new dress,” he tells you smoothly, setting the paper down in favour of pushing a strand of hair away from your face, his index finger gently gliding past your cheekbone. “And there will be another present for you tomorrow.”
“Another?” you’re nearly dizzy from how well he treats you-
“Another,” he confirms, taking off his glasses to set down before standing from the bar stool. 
“Are you going to tell me what it is?” you ask, allowing him to prompt you to your own feet, both of his hands gently capturing your own.
Seungcheol gives his head a small shake, a smile on his lips when he responds with a “no.”
Something inside of you deflates slightly at the fact that he’s withholding information from you, and you can’t help the way you pout your lower lip out - just a little - in an effort to perhaps make him change his mind-
“Come on, angel,” Seungcheol laughs, pinching your chin and forcing you to look up at him. His dark chocolate colored eyes are swimming with adoration, and his small half smile is breathtaking- “you can be patient for one more day, can’t you?”
“Depends what for,” you admit, reaching your free hand out to hook your fingers in the front of his belt, pulling yourself closer to the man who’s as solid as any brick wall you’ve ever seen-
“Patience for the next present,” he clarifies, gaze dipping down to your lips as you move even closer to him- “not for anything else.”
“Promise?” you ask, pushing onto your tip toes- mouths even closer-
“Promise,” Seungcheol says, finally closing the distance between you.
His lips are soft- he’s a gentleman, and his hand moves from your chin to be cupping the nape of your neck, the other smoothing down to the small of your back. 
It’s chaste kissing- too chaste for you, and you wrap your arms around the back of his own neck, pressing your chest up against his.
You don’t want any more distance between you, and you especially don’t want to wait any longer for this man to fuck the ever-loving shit out of you.
“Cheol-” you groan, allowing him to tilt your head and slide his tongue along your lower lip.
“Yes, angel?” His voice is so deep and sexy, the vibrations of it going straight through from his chest to your own and then down to your tingling core-
“Daddy, please-” 
“I would ask you to use your words, but now that you’ve filled out your kink list-” he swallows thickly, gently pressing his forehead to yours, “I think I have a pretty good idea of what you’d enjoy.”
In the back of your mind, you remember that you’d said yes to most of the kinks on the list- so you’re not sure how - exactly - he’s going to narrow it down and decide on what to do to you today- but there’s another part of you that trusts him fully.
Tonight is going to be a night to remember, regardless of what kinks he fulfills for you.
“Wait-” your hands move from his strong shoulders to the front of his dress shirt, toying with the buttons there, “I never saw your kink list.”
“Would you like to?”
You nod.
“Another time then,” Seungcheol says smoothly, “tonight, I want to take care of you. How’s that sound?”
“Sounds good,” you admit, tugging on his shirt in an effort to pull him closer.
With a smile, Seungcheol concedes, lips finding yours again. 
Instead of being as chaste as he had at the start, with each brush of your mouths against each other, he’s becoming more bold, gently testing your limits-
Little does he know that when it comes to him, you have no hard limits.
He could talk you into just about anything- but part of you knows he’d never really try to talk you into much, which is one of the reasons why you’re so open for him.
As he kisses you harder, and you tug him even closer, you realize you’re practically trying to climb him- and in one motion, Seungcheol bends down and lifts you into his arms bridal style, being mindful of the black dress still adorning your body.
“I’m going to take you to my bedroom now,” he tells you, and you take the opportunity to begin speckling his neck and underjaw in kisses, your hands tugging and toying with the fabric covering his broad shoulders. 
It’s so easy to become lost in him- his gentle, calming aura truly overtakes you, and now that you’re contractually under his protection - both financially and romantically - nothing else does matter- 
Nothing except him.
You want to make Seungcheol happy- and you note his reactions, note the way he releases a shuddery breath when you find a sensitive spot just under his ear- your tongue dipping out to taste his skin while you press kisses there-
“Okay, angel,” he sighs, “time to set you down.” 
He places you gently onto his bed before straightening to look at you. 
Seungcheol has always been tall and broad- but towering over you at the foot of his bed while you lay there with soaked panties takes him to new heights - literally - and you find yourself practically drooling- sitting up in an effort to get close to him again-
“Nuh uh uh,” he tuts, pressing one knee onto the mattress between your legs. “Lift your arms so I can take this dress off of you, and then lay back down for me, yeah?”
You follow through with his request gladly, allowing him to strip you of your dress before you flatten against his bed again, looking up at him with a lustful wonder that you’ve never truly experienced.
“There’s my pretty girl,” Seungcheol says smoothly, discarding your dress before looking down at you with appreciative eyes- eyes that finally take in some of your best features, gliding across your breasts and the lingerie set you’re wearing- “You dressed up for me,” he notes.
“Of course, daddy,” you sigh, reaching for him when he presses his other knee onto the bed, “wanted to look good for you.”
“You always look good,” he tells you, flattening his form over your own, one hand pressed to the mattress next to your head while the other gently grasps your jaw. “My pretty little angel,” he says, breath fanning across your skin before his lips find your own.
You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer and looking for friction between your thighs-
A moan slips out of you when you feel his cock, pressing against the front of his pants deliciously-
Seungcheol chuckles into your kiss before pulling away from you, his lips moving to your neck- 
“So sensitive, baby,” he says, rutting forward ever so slightly- cock dragging past your panty-clad core and making you groan again. “When was the last time you were properly touched?”
“It’s been a while,” you admit, swallowing thickly and lacing your fingers through Seungcheol’s hair while he kisses down to the swell of your breasts, still captured in your bra. 
“Well, we’re going to change that.”
“We better,” you retort, back already arching off the bed to give him access to the clasp of your bra- which he undoes with deft fingers. “Take it off- please-”
The garment slips off of you easily, and Seungcheol tosses it to join your dress on the floor before his large, warm hand is cupping your breast, lips attaching to one nipple while his fingers toy with the other.
Small gasps of ecstasy escape you, filling the room with your whimpery sounds of need.
Your new lover focuses on your breasts in a way that begins to make you frustrated, your pussy clenching with untouched desire- and the feeling of Seungcheol’s muscled shoulders is almost too much for your hands, which can’t help but explore his body-
“Please-” you moan, shifting your hips up, eager for him to grind down on you again-
The hand on your breast is removed, and it slips between your bodies, two fingers pressing to your pussy through your panties. 
You release a whimper, body shuddering at the small stimulus on your clit-
“Your panties are soaked, angel,” he says, releasing your breast in favor of looking down at you again. “Do you really need me that much?” 
“I do,” you tell him sincerely, once more tugging at the front of his shirt. “I need you so bad-”
Your fingers begin to undo his buttons, but your motions are shaky, especially as he rubs your core harder, teasing you through your panties-
“Please- just take them off,” you groan. “Take it all off-”
Seungcheol grins, “If you insist,” and then he’s pulling away from you, leaving you cold and desperate, your hands trying to follow him-
But then you stop, zoning in on the way his own nimble fingers undo the buttons of his shirt-
And then he’s shrugging the fabric off, revealing a chiseled torso and an abdomen that you could wash clothes on-
“You’re so-” you groan, unable to even believe you’d found a man like this on a sugar dating site.
“I’m so…” he looks at you with a cocked brow, kneeling between your legs, his hands finding your thighs and smoothing down against your skin.
“You’re everything,” you tell him, unable to think through much else.
The complement works, and Seungcheol’s smile widens. “Thank you, angel,” he says. “Daddy’s going to eat you now.”
You’re so overwhelmed- in the best of ways- that you hardly even hear Seungkwan’s voice in the back of your mind screaming ‘hannibal the cannibal, bitch!’ 
Your best friend had been so wrong about Seungcheol- who gets down onto his knees at the foot of the bed, dragging you closer before hooking his fingers in your panties-
You lift your hips, allowing him to tug the fabric from your form, leaving you completely naked-
Seungcheol releases a breath that fans over your pussy, his lips pressing a wet kiss on your inner thigh.
“You’re so perfect,” he says, teeth grazing past your skin before he finally brings his mouth where you need him most.
You can’t help but reach down and tangle your fingers through his hair, determined to keep him between your thighs-
And he doesn’t disappoint, tongue licking you up and down, pressing through your pussy lips and dipping into your core, nose brushing by your clit-
“Cheol-” you whimper, toes curling at the sensation.
You’ve been eaten out before, but you’ve never been as into a man as you are with Seungcheol, and every brush of him against you has you practically whining and tingling with ecstasy.
You’d never thought sex could be this good- and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.
His tongue is nothing compared to what his cock is going to feel like- but his mouth alone is bringing you shockingly close to your high, devastatingly fast. 
Seungcheol releases a groan against your pussy, pulling away just enough to ask “close already, angel?”
“Mmm- yes,” you whimper, tightening your grip in his hair on an effort to bring him back to your pussy.
“You can cum, just- let me know,” he tells you, tongue returning to your aching hole, lapping at you for all you’re worth-
You find your eyes closing, your head resting back against his bed while his ministrations work you closer and closer to the edge-
One of your feet drags along his strong back, your legs threatening to close around his head as your sounds of pleasure begin to tumble out of you uncensored, filling the room-
Seungcheol presses his face against you even harder, lips wrapping around your clit-
“Cheol- I’m gonna-” you whine, breaths becoming irregular as you get closer and closer to cloud nine- “oh my god-” you reach the peak of pleasure, and a gasped “daddy” escapes you as you’re consumed with your orgasm, quivering legs trying to close around Seungcheol-
But two hands land on your inner thighs, forcing you open for the man who eats you through your high like he’s been starved- 
Perhaps you both have.
You haven’t felt something this good in- maybe ever, and all you’re able to do is tug on his hair, moan loudly, and rut your hips against his face while you feel him tingling through every fiber of your being.
Seungcheol works you through your entire orgasm and then some, until your legs feel like jelly from being tensed, and you can hardly breathe correctly. Then, he pulls away from you slowly, pressing kisses along your inner thigh-
You open your eyes to look down at him, and you’re met with a visual that has you getting wet all over again. 
The gorgeous man between your legs, wipes his thumb across his lower lip, collecting what’s there and slipping it into his mouth, releasing a groan that has you practically twitching- 
His pupils are blown with interest, and he’s breathing just as heavily as you are.
He stands up, towering over you once more.
Seungcheol swallows thickly, running a hand through his hair. “I’m guessing from the way you checked off cum play and breeding kink that you’re on some sort of contraceptive?”
You release a small laugh- no man has ever used the word contraceptive in the bedroom with you before. Cheol is so sexy with his fancy words-
“Hey,” he gently taps your inner thigh again, “are you alright?”
“Yes, I-” you take a breath, “sorry, I’m just-” you can’t help but reach for him, making something like grabby hands in the air.
“I’ll give you a second to come down a bit more,” he concedes, returning between your legs, holding himself just over your body while you attempt to latch onto him, ankles crossing behind his back to lock him in- “You really haven’t been properly touched in a while,” he notes, brushing your hair out of your face and behind your ear. 
“No,” you agree, “I haven’t.” 
You cup his face, eager for his lips to be on yours, but he holds just out of your reach, grinning down at you. “Almost ready to answer my question?”
You nod, taking a breath before telling him, “I’m on the pill.”
“Lucky us,” Seungcheol says, bypassing your lips in favour of pressing a kiss to your neck, just above your fluttering pulse point. “How are you feeling?”
“Good,” you admit, letting out a deep sigh- “needy.”
Seungcheol releases a small groan, and he pushes his hips forward, teasing your bare core with the front of his dress pants- “Yeah?” 
“Please-” you tug gently at his hair, “stop teasing me.”
“Just trying to let you take a breath,” he retorts.
“I don’t want to breathe,” you say stubbornly, “I want you.” 
He lets out a chuckle, and you find yourself wanting to prove how much you want him. 
There’s no way in hell that you’ll be able to dominate Seungcheol, he’s as sturdy as a bear laying on top of you, but when you push at his shoulders, he relents, allowing you to roll him onto his back so you’re now the one on top.
He blinks up at you, lips parting-
“Didn’t expect this, did you, daddy?” you ask, placing your palms flat on his chest while adjusting the way you’re seated, capturing his cock between your bodies-
Seungcheol sits up abruptly- and you almost think he’s going to say something, but instead, he presses his lips to yours, capturing the nape of your neck with his hand so you can’t move away. 
His kiss is hungry, tongue gliding past your own and earning a mewl of pleasure- your hips rock slightly, and you’re immediately aggrieved to be reminded that he still has pants on.
“Want you naked,” you tell him between kisses, “want to taste you-”
Now it’s his turn to let out a groan of eager delight, and he lets go of his hold on your neck, pulling away from your lips to look you in the eyes while he grabs a fistful of your hair, tugging ever so slightly to have your head arching back- “You sure about that?”
“God, yes-” you moan, licking your lips-
“Then go ahead, angel,” Seungcheol says, releasing you. “Do whatever your heart desires, and if you get tired, let daddy know so he can take over again.”
You’ve never been wetter in your life. Nor have you ever shimmied down a man’s body and wrestled with his pants so quick, but with Seungcheol, that’s precisely what you do, and within no time at all, you have your mouth wrapped around the head of his cock.
He’s girthy- and you can just imagine how good the stretch of him is going to feel- 
You’re practically drooling on him, bobbing your head up and down while he pushes your hair out of your face, releasing a groan and a “that’s it, angel” that eggs you on even more.
You’re aware that you don’t want to make him cum like this- this is just you returning the favour before riding him- 
God, you want to ride him so bad- like you’ve never wanted to ride any man in your whole entire life.
“Fuck-” 
It’s the first swearword you’ve ever heard come out of Seungcheol’s mouth, and it goes straight to your pussy, which clenches around nothing, your mouth slipping down far enough on his cock that you choke-
“Careful, darling,” the hand in your hair tugs you off his cock, and you take a gasp of air, sneaking a glance up at the man who has you going feral-
“I wanna ride you.”
“Like I said, do whatever your heart desires,” comes his almost casual response-
This man is going to be the death of you.
Death by psychologist cock.
Before you can even think a coherent sentence, you’re straddling Seungcheol’s hips, adjusting his cock to fit snuggly against your core, and sinking down on him, filling yourself inch by delicious inch until you’re sat atop him like a queen on her throne.
His hands find your waist, and you both release sounds of pleasure, your eyes closing to enjoy the feeling of being perfectly full for just a moment before you begin to move-
“Feels good, huh?” he prompts, squeezing your hips gently.
“Feels fucking fantastic,” you tell him- swear words be damned.
Your hands find his strong chest, and you lean over him, connecting your lips while you take a test thrust, bouncing just slightly on his cock-
The feeling is enough to have you both groaning into each other’s mouths, Seungcheol cupping the side of your face while he gently bites at your lower lip-
You’re not used to being on top- and it feels obvious in the shallow way you’re riding him, too distracted in kissing to give either motion your full attention-
But that doesn’t matter, because Seungcheol is rutting up to meet you, matching your slow pace and helping you find a steady rhythm with the hand still on your hip, guiding you as you begin to bounce.
It feels like heaven to be fucking Choi Seungcheol- feels like nothing you could have ever imagined. 
You find yourself getting lost in him, working on autopilot with one destination in mind: orgasmic pleasure, and with each thrust of his hips to meet you, he helps you get closer.
“Fuck, Cheol-” you groan, tearing your lips from his to take a breath, burying your face against his neck while your thighs burn from effort- “Daddy, please- please, fuck me-”
That’s all you need to say to get him to take over, flipping you onto your back so he can regain the top position. He captures your hands, raising them over your head where he can lock your wrists together in his strong grip, then his free digits slip between your bodies, seeking out your clit-
“Oh my god,” you moan, eyes closing as you’re overwhelmed in the sensation of him-
“Close already, sweetheart?” he questions, letting out a smug, sexy, little chuckle. “Feels that good?”
“Yes- feels so good,” you tell him, ready to say anything he wants you to if it means he fucks you harder-
His fingers draw small quick circles on your clit, and your legs twitch where they’re wrapped around his waist.
“I’ve hardly even fucked you- you can hold it a little longer, can’t you darling?” he prompts, nosing at your cheek. “For me?”
“I can-” you groan as he fucks you harder, “I can try- but- my clit-”
“Is this making it difficult for you?” Seungcheol smiles, relenting ever so slightly and then removing his hand all together in favour of wrapping it around your throat. “There, is that better?”
He squeezes your airway, and you’re simply unable to speak, unable to do anything but moan like a whore in heat while he fucks you closer and closer to an orgasm you’re desperately trying to hold off for him-
“You feel-” he lets out a groan, “unbelievable.”
No, he feels unbelievable, and you can’t even touch him with your hands still pinned- 
You think if you could graze your fingers across his strong shoulders you’d cum instantly, so maybe it’s a good thing he has your wrists in his grasp-
“I think I want you to cum now,” he decides, and you’re thankful- only for him to release your throat and rub your clit, which has you whining loudly all over again- “You’ll cum with me, right?”
“God, daddy- yes!” you whimper- the coil in your stomach clenching as tightly as ever-
Then he releases your wrists, anchoring a hand against your abdomen to keep you down while he works you over the edge- and your own fingers immediately seek out the shoulders that have you dizzy with lust, core clamping down on his cock as you’re high hits you full force.
“Cheol-” you whimper, delighted by the way he immediately presses his lips to yours, eagerly eating up your sounds of pleasure and returning them with grunts and groans of his own while fucking you through one of the best orgasms of your entire life.
His tongue dances by yours, teeth teasing past your lip-
Your fingers are in his hair and you can feel him practically everywhere, your entire body alight with wonderful sensations of bliss-
It starts to slow too soon, but every up must have a down, and as his hips lose pace and your sounds lessen, you realize you’re truly, madly, deeply in love with Choi Seungcheol.
And you’ve known him for less than a week.
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8: Wednesday
“Are you settling in okay?” Bora’s voice pulls you away from your daydreaming, and you tear your eyes off of Seungcheol to focus on the woman whose house you’ve been enjoying for much of the evening.
She’d been introduced to you as Seungcheol’s colleague’s wife, and you’ve yet to get any one on one with the very pregnant hostess, whose husband, Mingyu, has been circling her like a puppy this entire time. 
“Yes,” you respond, finding your voice, “you have a very easy home to settle into.”
“I appreciate that,” she smiles, taking the free seat on the sofa next to you, one hand settling over her protruding stomach in a maternal way that makes your heart soften. “I’ve been meaning to have a chat with you since you arrived, but both of us seem to have a plus one that’s attached at the hip.”
Now it’s her turn to look over at Seungcheol and Mingyu, who are huddled around another psychologist friend of theirs, Wonwoo, and his wife, their attention fixed on the youngest member of the housewarming party, a six-month-old baby named Yumi.
“I feel as if I’m the plus one,” you say.
“Don’t be modest,” Bora brushes it off with a smile, “Cheol has had his hand on the small of your back for most of the evening. As much as they like to pretend they’re big shot psychologists, we’re the crutches that get them through the evening.”
You take a moment to consider her words. 
This is the first event you’ve gone to with your new beau, and for much of it, you’ve been as intent to stick to Cheol’s side as he has been to yours.
“Trust me,” Bora continues, “give it a few minutes and they’ll migrate over here to be close to us.” She pauses, then, “Mingyu has to get used to being in the living room, a pregnant woman like me needs a good, comfortable seat.”
You both laugh at the way she touches her belly again, pushing it out and relaxing back on the sofa. 
“How far along are you?” you ask. 
Despite already having had dinner and discussion for an hour or two, much of the focus has been on the home and various publications that the four university friends have been working on, with Wonwoo’s wife Minji having arrived with Yumi only a short while ago. 
“Eight months,” Bora sighs, continuing to stroke her baby bump. “I’m just about ready to pop. But enough about me and my belly, you’ve hardly spoken about yourself- and Cheol is always so focused on work, I’ve yet to get many details out of him, other than the fact that you’re worth skipping book club for. Did you two have a hot date last night?”
Your skin heats with embarrassment- “I didn’t know he’d skipped book club for me-”
“It’s a loose arrangement, Tuesdays at seven, I’m only teasing you,” Bora leans over to nudge you with her shoulder, offering you a sweet smile. “How did you two meet?”
The nondisclosure agreement pops into your mind like a red warning sign. 
“Erm…” you swallow, “Cheol hasn’t told you?”
“Like I said, he’s very tight-lipped about it,” Bora explains. “But- I’ve never known Seungcheol to be a fan of changing his schedule- and the pearl necklace you’re wearing- the dress, your lovely nails- they all seem like gifts to me. Am I right?”
Her husband might be a psychologist, but Bora has just as much of a critical eye. She sees right through you.
“Fine, don’t tell me,” Bora waves your silence off, “I know I’m right. I’ll figure you two out.”
“Are you being nosy again, Mrs. Kim?” Vernon, the fourth and quietest man of your new lover’s friend group joins you in the living room, taking a seat on the single chair to your left.
“Always,” Bora responds with a smile. “Wait, Vernon, maybe you know more about this. Y/N is being no fun- Cheol must have told you where and when they met-”
Vernon’s mouth opens in something like recognition-
“Ah ha!” Bora exclaims, leaning closer to you, sandwiching you in while she presses for more information. “So you do know!” 
“I do, but-” Vernon looks at you, then he leans in too, his voice dipping to something near a whisper, “Are we allowed to talk about this?”
“Allowed?” Now Bora is even more hooked on finding the truth than before, and her gaze darts between you and the man on your left, who obviously knows at least a few details about you and Seungcheol’s ‘origin story.’
Due to the NDA, all you can do is sit there like a fish out of water, and you find yourself looking to Seungcheol, hoping he’ll see you in distress and come over to sort things out-
“Let’s just say-” Vernon sighs, giving in to the pregnant woman’s need for information, “Y/N, you seem like a great girl- as kind, calm, collected, and smart as Seungcheol told us you were- but, I am shocked he found you on a dating site.”
“A dating site?” Bora’s eyes have widened, and she shuffles closer to you on the couch, jaw dropped. “Stop- when I told him to try online dating after his last girlfriend I was honestly joking- everyone knows Tinder is hookup central these days.”
Bora is as inquisitive as anyone you’ve ever met, and she checks you and Vernon for your reactions, easily picking up on the shift of energy-
“Wait, not tinder?” She pauses, waiting for an answer. When it becomes obvious neither you nor Vernon are going to elaborate, she sighs and sits back a little. “Now that I think of it, tinder is an app, not a site- the only dating sites I can think of online are-”
It’s like a lightbulb goes off atop her head, and her jaw drops a little more- then she’s inching in close to you again, whispering as Vernon had done earlier, “You know what? Now that we’re discussing it- a sugar daddy site would be perfect for Cheol.”
Vernon groans, throwing his hand over his eyes and leaning forward. It’s clear he’d expected to be able to talk to you in something of vague code without Bora picking up on it- but it seems he’s underestimated the astute woman next to you. 
“You guys are horrible at keeping secrets,” Bora grins, sneaking a glance at Seungcheol, who’s now picked up baby Yumi- “This is so interesting.” 
“The plot thickens,” you offer, unable to say much more than that.
“Oh my god, stop,” Bora says playfully, poking your arm. “Obviously there’s some… agreement that’s been made between you and Cheol, so I’ll try not to prod you for much more information,” she promises, “but I’ll talk to Cheol and the next time we meet, you’ll be able to speak more freely.”
“The next time we meet?” you ask, wondering how the woman can be so sure of herself in every regard.
“We’ll meet again,” she tells you. “Trust me, anyone watching you and Seungcheol- well, anyone who knows him, can tell he really likes you.”
Your heart skips a beat. “You think?” 
Bora smiles at you. “Sweet girl, it’s obvious. Trust me, Seungcheol doesn’t bring around just anyone to parties with us, and like I said, he doesn’t often change his schedule for girls either. I don’t care what site you met on, you have that man whipped.”
“Bora-” the psychologist on your left groans.
“Vernon,” she retorts with the same tone. 
They exchange a glance, a battle for dominance, and Bora wins, Vernon releasing a sigh before leaning back in his chair.
“You know what is surprising?” he asks.
“Tell us,” Bora mirrors him, relaxing back against the couch.
“How good Cheol is being with Yumi tonight.” Vernon is watching his friends and the baby again, and soon all three of you are.
“That’s a good point, Vernon,” Bora grins, nudging you a little with her elbow. “I wonder why that is?”
You think her intuition has finally run dry. She can’t be insinuating that you’re partially the reason behind Seungcheol’s apparent baby fever- 
And if she is, she has another shock coming for her when she finally talks to Cheol and finds out that ‘no babies’ was one of the clauses of your dating agreement.
“I think, Cheol’s the kind of man who likes seeing people happy, and Yumi is very expressive” you offer. “People can like babies without wanting one for themselves.”
Bora lets out a scoff. “Right, Mingyu and I always thought we just ‘liked babies,’ and now look at me. Liking babies is always how it starts, and before you know it, nine months have gone by, you’ve turned into a balloon and are buying a new home big enough to raise a family in.”
You are envious of her position, but at the same time, you’re acutely aware that you and Cheol are extremely new to each other. He’s not the kind of man to be hasty- or at least, you’d thought he wasn’t, but as Bora had mentioned, Seungcheol doesn’t introduce just anyone to his friends. 
You’ll have to talk with him about this and you know it, but until then, it’s enough to just sit between his friends and watch him play with Yumi, who seems to give everyone in the vicinity a serious case of baby fever. 
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9: Thursday
“Hold up-” Seungkwan says, interrupting you with a wave of his hands, and they land on your knees, “wait a minute- so he makes you sign an NDA, and then invites you out with his friends, and one of them like- bombards you for an hour about him-”
“It wasn’t an hour-”
“Sure-”
“And she wasn’t bombarding,” you correct.
“Ok, fine, yeah, whatever- but then-” Seungkwan takes a deep breath, “he also has a thing about no babies, and in the first week- straight up rubs a baby in your face for an entire night-”
“Yumi was only there for an hour or so before we left-”
“And then!” your best friend interrupts you again, “on the car ride home, instead of discussing it with him like adults- ya’ll put up the separation between you and his hot as fuck driver, and nearly fucked in the back seat-”
“Oh my god, stop-” you groan, “I told you, it was just kissing-”
“With you straddling the man!” Seunkwan yells back. “And all of this, after he switched his schedule to fuck you on Tuesday night- even though you said it would go slow-”
“Actually, he told me he wouldn’t fuck me till the third date, and if we didn’t meet Tuesday, the night with his friends on Wednesday would have been the third date, so-” 
“I swear to fucking god, I have whiplash,” Seungkwan tells you, looking as serious as ever. “Ya’ll make me sick! Sick I say! What in the ever-loving fanfic is this bullshit-”
“Have you been writing more Hannibal and Will love stories again?”
“Maybe.” 
“Are you going to write a fanfic about Will and Hannibal based on me and Cheol?”
“Maybe…” 
“Seungkwan!” 
“Well don’t tell me juicy stories if you don’t want them getting thrown in a sex fantasy! Ya’ll nearly fucked in the back of a car with a hot chauffeur-” 
“I told you-” you begin to defend yourself again, only to be cut off by your phone buzzing.
Both you and Seungkwan look to your cell, placed a foot or two away on the coffee table.
“Daddy,” you both say in unison, and then you’re lurching for your phone.
“Seungkwan stop!” you screech, grabbing onto his sweater when he latches onto the device first.
“Put him on speaker!” Seungkwan declares, holding your cell just out of your reach while it rings.
“Yeah- I’ll put him on speaker-” you fold easily, “just give me the phone!”
Instead of handing it to you right away, your best friend answers the call and hits speaker, then thrusts it towards your face.
“Hi, daddy!” you blurt out, flustered from the small dust up you’d just had with your friend over the entire situation.
There’s a chuckle on the other end of the line, then “Hi, sweetheart. It sounds like I’ve interrupted something.”
“Just-” you grab the cell back from Seungkwan, “just had trouble finding my phone is all, was worried you’d be sent to voicemail.”
“I’m glad I wasn’t. It’s good to hear your voice.”
Your heart swoons, and Seungkwan grabs a pillow to scream into. “Good to hear yours too.”
“I’m just calling to see if we’re still on for tomorrow.”
“Right, yeah- do you still want to see me? I know you were very specific when we met about meeting up once or twice a week, and I’ve already seen you twice in the past three days-”
“Once or twice a week, plus the occasional group event,” Seungcheol clarifies for you. “I’d really enjoy having you over tomorrow, if you haven’t already made plans. I won’t hold it against you if you have, I can see how there might have been a small miscommunication- especially after my… erratic behavour this week, fitting you in on Tuesday- scheduling will almost always be smoother than it has been these last few days.”
“I’d love to see you tomorrow- I haven’t made any other plans.”
“Good.” You can hear him smiling. “Since it’s a Friday, and I don’t have any specific work engagements on weekends, how do you feel about bringing an overnight bag?”
Seungkwan drops his pillow.
“I would love that, too-” you say.
“Perfect. Should we say pick up at seven?”
“Sounds great.” 
God, he makes everything so easy-
“Can’t wait to see you again, angel. Have a good evening, you deserve it.”
You deserved to get dicked down.
“Have a good night too, Cheol.” 
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10: Friday
When you exit your building, you’re shocked to find a different car - and an entirely different driver - waiting to take you to  Seungcheol’s home.
The man himself is standing aside a sleek, black, two-seater sports car, dressed in his usual suit aesthetic that shows off the broadness of his shoulders- 
You go feral nearly immediately, and it takes everything in you to stop from practically drooling as you close the distance between you and the man who pulls you into a hug that takes you off your feet for a greeting.
“Hey there, angel,” his breath tickles your hair and he sets you back down. He takes your hands gently, holding them out to the sides so he can get a good look at your outfit, a red dress you’d chosen, knowing it’s his favourite colour. “You look gorgeous.”
“You’re not so bad yourself,” you grin, playing with his fingers.
One quick motion has him spinning you like a dancer, and you find yourself giggling like a schoolgirl.
“Ready to go?” he asks when you’ve come to a stop in front of him again.
“Uh huh,” you nod, giving your head a little shake to pull yourself from a lust-fueled daze, “sorry, I was just- I wasn’t expecting you to be the one picking me up.”
“I gave Seokmin the night off,” Seungcheol tells you, opening the car’s passenger side door and holding out a hand to help you in. “Hope that’s okay,” he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek before taking your overnight bag and closing you into the vehicle.
He puts your bag in the back trunk, then slips into the driver’s seat.
Seungcheol’s hand finds your thigh, and he squeezes gently, offering you a small smile. “I know we’re planning on having you stay the night, but if you decide you don’t want to sleep over, I can always drive you home later.”
“Cheol,” you rest your hand on top of his, “I think we both know I’m not going to take you up on that offer.”
“Sure, but I figured I’d put it on the table regardless.” 
You smile, leaning in to steal a kiss to his cheek, as he had when he helped you into your seat. “You’re too sweet to me.”
“You deserve it,” he insists, giving your thigh another squeeze before reaching for the ignition. 
The car revs to life. 
It’s hard not to stare at Seungcheol while he drives, and luckily, his hand returns to your thigh, giving you something to focus on. You take to playing with his fingers, marveling at how handsome every inch of him is.
“Vernon called me yesterday,” Seungcheol says, dragging your attention from his hands.
“Oh?”
“He admitted to slipping up and giving Bora ideas.” Seungcheol lets out a small chuckle, “said you looked like a deer in headlights when he arrived to the conversation- she was pressing you for details, huh?”
“Not in a bad way,” you tell him, wanting to defend the woman who you’re already coming to think of as a friend. “She was just- curious.”
“It’s my fault for not being specific with you about the NDA, or with Vernon for that matter- the NDA is primarily for when we go to work events outside of our inner circle, which is why your best friend is mentioned on the form you signed- it seems both Vernon and Mingyu were under the idea that I wanted to be highly secretive about us- but I’ve explained to them the nuances of it all. The next time you see Bora, please, feel free to discuss it with her, or Vernon, or Mingyu, Wonwoo, Minji- as long as you’re not too specific with Yumi, you can consider the baby a confidant as well.”
He’s obviously joking about the baby, but the mention of the child brings those same warm fuzzy conflicted feelings that you’d experienced last night at the get-together. 
There will be a time to talk with Seungcheol about his seemingly dualistic baby fever and baby aversion- but tonight is not the night for it.
You’re thankful he’d even brought up the topic of Bora and the NDA, and already, what little anxiety you’d felt about this whole thing has been substantially dwindled.
“I really liked your friends,” you admit, thinking back to how pleasant the evening had been. Despite Bora’s teasing and prying, she’d been nothing but a courteous host when Seungcheol and Mingyu had predictably rejoined you in the living room.
“They liked you too, angel. I knew they would.” He lets go of your thigh in favor of gently taking your hand. 
You can already feel your panties beginning to get wet- 
No man’s hands have ever had this effect on you before- and maybe it has to do, in part, with the whole ‘quirofilia’ thing-
Or maybe, Cheol is simply a man made by the hands of god himself- after all, how could he be this perfect without something like divine intervention?
Before you know it, you’re at Seungcheol’s house, and he’s pulling into the underground garage, where he parks next to the rolls-royce you’re accustomed to being driven in. 
Ever the gentleman, Seungcheol makes sure to come around and open your door for you, your duffle swung over his arm. He refuses to give it back to you, insisting on carrying it up to his home, where the two of you head to his bedroom instinctually.
He sets the bag down, turning to look at you, opening his mouth to say something-
But your patience has already run thin, and you all but launch yourself at the broad man, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck and pressing your lips to his while his hands find your waist.
He laughs into the kiss, and you think he must not have been expecting you to jump him like this. 
Doesn’t he know the effect he has on you?
“Cheol-” you groan, moving your lips to his neck-
“Eager, angel?” Seungcheol reaches down to cup your bum, prompting you to jump and wrap your legs around his waist. “It was hard being close but not able to properly touch you at the gettogether-” he says, taking a few steps back and collapsing down onto his bed, steadying you on top of him, “Could hardly even get work done today-”
“Was I that distracting for you, daddy?” you coo, teeth teasing past his earlobe.
He releases a groan, hands digging into your hips, forcing you down on his cock, which presses up against his dress pants, caught between your bodies. “Always.” 
“How can I fix it?” you wonder out loud, hands already going for the buttons of his shirt. “I wanna make you feel good.”
“You do, angel,” Seungcheol tells you, “make daddy feel so good.” 
“Wanna make you feel even better-” Then an idea comes to your head, “How about… a massage?” you suggest, thinking back to a paragraph you’d read from his book yesterday. “Aren’t you the one who claims relaxation time, such as stretching, massages, and the like, can be just as beneficial to the mind and body as activity itself?”
“Look at you, quoting my own work at me,” he releases a deep groan. “Are you sure that’s what you want to get up to tonight?”
“Just to start,” you tell him. “We have the whole evening- and tomorrow morning- why not start the night off with something like a massage? And work our way into…” you swivel your hips, “harder things.” 
“I like the sound of that, angel,” he confesses with another sigh of pleasure as you kiss the sweet spot just under his ear. “But you’ve got to let me get up so I can grab massage oil.”
You’d forgotten about that part, and the idea of letting Seungcheol leave you - even for a moment - brings out a bratty side of you that you’ve never truly experienced. 
It takes all your willpower to concede, getting off of the man who sits up and runs a hand through his hair. “You okay?” he questions, seeing the shift in your energy.
“Yeah,” you nod, “just hurry.”
He laughs, reaching out to gently pinch your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The kiss he places on your lips is as chaste as your first had been, and it leaves you tingling with potential, even as he stands and heads to the ensuite bathroom.
In his absence, you begin to take off your clothes, removing everything down to your bra and panties, and then, just for good measure, you settle onto your knees on the foot of his bed, trying to be as patient as possible.
You’re rewarded when Seungcheol appears in the doorway again, having stripped himself of his shirt. There’s a bottle of baby oil trapped between his teeth, and his hands are working on his belt and pants- 
When he sees you sitting on the foot of his bed, like the best girl there ever was, he lets the baby bottle drop from his mouth, catching it easily in one hand- “look at you,” he breathes, scanning your form. 
“Like what you see, daddy?” you tease, skin heating from the attention he gives you.
“Love it,” he tells you. “How good are your reflexes, darling?”
You open your mouth to respond, only to have him toss the bottle of oil at you. 
Unlike him, you don’t catch it gracefully, the bottle almost slipping out of your hands- there’s a small fumble but your digits wrap around it-
Seungcheol laughs at you. “With butter fingers like that- should I be getting us a towel to put down?” 
You hate that it’s a legitimate question.
And you doubly hate that the answer is a resounding yes, which you verbalize to him, annoyed that he’ll be leaving again-
But then you’re graced with a full view of his beautiful back when he turns to head into the bathroom again, and you decide to be a good, patient girl for just a few more moments.
Seungcheol returns, and you bite your tongue while you watch him set the towel down, but as soon as it’s settled, you find yourself saying - in something like a command - “on your stomach first,” you’re quick to adjust to your tone, “I wanna work your back out a little to start.”
“How could I say no to that?” Seungcheol grins, following through and laying flat on the towel.
You nearly drool while watching him adjust his arms, propping his head up with both hands under his chin. His biceps are bulging and your mouth is definitely beginning to water again, prompting you to lick your lips-
“Have you given many massages before?” he asks, as you straddle his hips, continuing to marvel at the shape of his perfect form-
“Erm- define many?” 
He chuckles, and you flip the cap of the baby oil, allowing the liquid to pour into your palm. “I’ll take that as a no.”
“It can’t be that hard,” you tell him, bringing your hands to the muscled back that has you wet like the ocean every time you see it.
“Tell that to my chiropractor,” he says, a joke that makes you both laugh.
You begin to work away at his muscles, both hands smoothing up and down his back, focusing in on the shoulders you love so much-
“Feels good,” Seungcheol groans, releasing a deep sigh of relief that has your ego shooting through the roof. 
“That’s good daddy,” you tell him, leaning over him and applying more of your body weight as pressure for your hands. “You deserve to relax.”
He chuckles slightly, and you realize you’re picking up on some of his diction. Hasn’t he been the one telling you what you deserve thus far? 
All it takes is you being on top and you begin to emulate his mannerisms, the soft dom tendency towards praise. 
You can tell he’s enjoying it, and you are too, your panties getting wetter with every second your hands are on his broad shoulders-
 “Can you flip now?” you prompt, knowing it hasn’t been that long that you’ve been working on his back- but you miss his face, and you’re eager to get your hands on his chest-
With a grunt of affirmation, Seungcheol begins to turn, and you lift yourself off of him enough to allow the movement. Once he’s on his back, you settle down again, capturing his cock between your bodies as it strains against his pants.
“You like this position, huh?” he asks, smiling up at you with an expression that exudes adoration. 
His hands find your thighs, rubbing up and down while you get more oil on your palms. “Not always,” you tell him, beginning to massage his chest, “top can be fun to start, in some cases, but- I really liked being under you the last time we were in your bed.”
“Oh yeah?” 
You avoid his gaze, knowing your skin is heating from what you’d just admitted. “Uh huh.”
“You’re cute,” he breathes, rubbing circles on your thighs, “getting all shy while sitting on top of me like this.”
“I’m trying to focus,” you tell him, trailing your fingers down to his abdomen. 
“You look a little dazed, darling,” he presses, “are you sure you don’t want me to take over?”
“I’ve hardly massaged you yet-” you go to argue, but Seungcheol is already making the move to sit up.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and tilts your head back the way he had last time- his breath is hot against your throat, and he trails his nose up under your jaw, bringing his lips to your ear. “What if I don’t care about the massage anymore?”
“Then-” you swallow thickly, pussy throbbing when his free hand unclasps your bra behind you, “then, okay.”
“Okay?” he chuckles. “My love, I don’t think ‘then, okay’ is a sentence.”
“Fuck me?”
“Not too sure that’s a sentence either, but, your wish is my command.”
It seems like the easiest thing in the world for him to discard your bra and flip you onto your back, lips finding your own, tearing your breath away.
Your legs tighten around his waist, and his oiled chest slides against yours, your newly freed nipples pebbling at the direct contact-
One of his hands, slides between your bodies, skimming over your breast and cupping it, squeezing. You release a moan of pleasure, hips bucking, pushing up towards him-
Your own hands slide over his slippery shoulders, and you mentally kick yourself for having lubed him up- there’s hardly anything to grasp onto, so you latch onto his hair instead, kissing him harder.
He releases your breast, hand slipping down and under the waistband of your panties. When his fingers find your core, they tease past your clit, and you can feel the silkiness of the baby oil on his digits, which glide into your wet hole as easily as ever. 
“Cheol-” you moan desperately, wanting to push your hips up- to get closer, but he holds you down with his large body, lips moving to your neck.
You realize, as his expert fingers crook up and find your gspot, that the last time you’d fucked, he’d never fingered you. You’d gotten to experience his tongue and his cock, but the middle and ring fingers that explore your pussy have something like trained exactitude, hitting the spot that has your toes curling with deadly precision. 
“Oh my god-” you whimper, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, looking for an anchor while he begins to thrust his digits into you with enough force that your hips begin to rock-
The palm of his hand applies pressure to your clit, rubbing you through the rough manhandling that has you achingly close to an orgasm within no time-
“Gonna cum?” he prompts in your ear, hot breath making your skin tingle.
“Yes, daddy-” it’s the most you can do to hold onto him and clench your eyes shut, an intense feeling of euphoric pressure erupting between your legs-
“That’s it gorgeous, let it all out-” he groans, fingers unrelenting-
You can hear your pussy, squelching sinfully around his fingers- and you can feel wetness gushing between your thighs-
In the back of your mind, you realize you’re squirting, cumming completely undone on his hand, but you’re too lost in the feeling of it to care.
He finger fucks you to the point of overwhelm, until your whines and whimpers are hoarse and tears well in the corners of your shut eyes-
And then he’s pulling his hand out of your panties, and the soaked material is left to cling back to your sopping hole.
Your arms go slack, landing on the bed next to you, and Seungcheol pulls away from your body, making you moan desperately, eyes opening to watch him-
“I’m not going anywhere, angel,” he promises, pushing his own pants down before kicking them to the side, then he goes to tear your panties off, and you see, for the first time, how truly ruined they are. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone squirt this much,” he tells you, discarding the fabric so he can rejoin you on the bed, the both of you fully nude. “Did that feel good?”
“So good-” you whimper, hardly able to form sentences in your delirious, sex induced brain fog-
Seungcheol slots himself between your thighs again, cupping the side of your face, thumb brushing away the tear that’s escaped your eye. “Do you need a moment?”
“No!” you’re quick to protest, locking your legs around his hips. “Fuck me- daddy- please-”
You don’t think any cock has ever entered you as smoothly as his does, aided by the copious amount of wet arousal still dribbling out of your hole.
Seungcheol tucks his face against the crook of your neck, supporting himself above you with two hands buried into the pillow on either side of your head. His lips are feverish against your throat, and the groans he releases as he begins to fuck you make you as horny as ever.
“You feel so fucking good,” he moans, rutting into you with a pace and power that increases with every slap of skin on skin- “so perfect for me-”
“Daddy-” you whine, clawing at his back while he ravages your insides.
“So responsive-” his teeth graze past your neck and you shiver, whole body tingling with delight.
“Harder-” you moan.
“Harder?” he releases something like a laugh, and then you hear him swallow, adjusting his position so he can dig his elbows into the bed, hooking his forearms under your own shoulders, which props you up ever so slightly- enough to change the angle and allow him to follow through with your request.
You release a squeak at the feeling of being completely at his mercy, completely wrapped in Cheol while he’s wrapped in you- the perfect combination really.
The sounds escaping you aren’t something you can hold back, and each rough thrust has his cock hitting a spot deep inside of you, a spot that has you becoming a mewling, moaning, whimpering mess for him.
“Just like that-” you tell him desperately, grabbing at his hair, eager to hold onto something while you get fucked into oblivion-
“You close, gorgeous?” he asks, and all you can do is moan, which makes him chuckle, “yeah you are,” he breathes. “Squeezing daddy so fucking tight- you were made for this, weren’t you, angel?”
“Yes-” 
“Made to be fucked-” he growls, rutting into you even harder-
You’re not sure where sweet, soft dom Seungcheol has gone, but you’re more than happy to be decimated by the man fucking into you like an animal, and his sinful praisings go straight to your pussy, which clenches around him even more.
“That’s it angel, that’s it-” he groans, “just a little more-” one of his hands moves to grab your thigh, hiking it higher on his waist-
He hits a spot that has you seeing stars, and you gasp loudly, crying out-
“Cum for me,” he instructs, and before your mind has even registered his words, your pussy is following through with the command, clamping down onto him while the biggest orgasm of your life slams into you like a freight train. 
Seungcheol lets out delicious sounds of pleasure, gasping against your throat, fucking you through your orgasm while coating your insides with his own release-
You’re completely surrounded by him.
There’s nothing else, only you and Cheol… and perhaps the ruined towel below you, dragging against your back with each rough thrust.
His motions begin to slow, and he comes to a stop, collapsing some of his body weight down against you while you both struggle to catch your breath. 
Neither of you say anything, too lost in the aftershocks of pleasure.
But with Cheol, you don’t need to say anything. You’re completely safe with him, completely content to rest in his arms, knowing there’s not a single place in the world you’d rather be.
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11: Saturday
Waking up in Seungcheol’s bed, you immediately stretch in search of him- only to find the bed empty.
Sitting up, and wrapping the quilt around your nude body, you look around, blinking away residual grogginess. 
The man who’d fucked you silly until the late hours of the morning is nowhere to be seen, and you can’t help the way annoyance floods through you. But you remind yourself that Seungcheol likes his schedules, and a quick check of the clock next to the bed shows you that it’s eleven am, so you suppose you can’t be mad at Cheol for not staying with you while you slept half the day away.
Getting out of bed, you’re surprised to find just how sore your body is. 
Your thighs burn- and you suppose a round number five riding session may have not been the best idea last night.
You find the simple black sleeping shirt Seungcheol had given you before deciding to tear it off of you for round six, and you enjoy the way it dwarfs you. 
Sometimes you still can’t believe how big and broad Cheol is- 
Finding your overnight bag, you take out a fresh pair of panties, and decide to head off in search of Seungcheol in the simple shirt and underwear look. It’s doubtful you’ll be wearing it for much longer regardless.
It’s not hard to find your psychologist lover, after all, you simply have to follow the smell of food to the kitchen. 
Your sugar daddy is standing at the stove, one hand holding a spatula while he cooks eggs, the other propping up a book that he’s quietly reading.
He’s so sexy and smart- and sexy… and smart.
You can’t help but tiptoe towards him, latching onto his back and pressing your cheek against the space between his shoulder blades, releasing a groan of pleasure to finally be connected to him again.
“Morning, angel,” Seungcheol greets you, setting his book down before adjusting you, tugging you so you’re in front of him and he can meet your eyes. “Did you sleep well?”
“Better than ever,” you beam at him, leaning up to press a chaste kiss to his lips. “And you?”
“Never better,” he returns your smile, and your heart practically melts. “Hungry?”
“Definitely- are you my master chef today?”
He laughs. “I’m not sure I’m that good, cooking is a hobby I’ve only truly picked up in recent years.”
“Right,” you say, turning in his arms to look down at the pan in front of you. “Very hard ingredient, eggs.”
Seungcheol releases a cross between a chuckle and a sigh behind you, poking at your ribcage. “I can make more than eggs. I just figured, I don’t really know what you like when it comes to food, so I’d make something safe and healthy. Besides, I wasn’t sure when you’d wake up.”
“So this is just for you, is that what you’re saying?” you tease him some more, enjoying the domesticity of this- it’s as if you’ve done this a hundred times before, or at least, you have the peace that comes with familiarity.
“If I had known you were such a brat-” he begins, but you cut him off with a squeal and turn to face him again, insisting “I’m not a brat!”
He simply looks at you with a smile.
“You’re being mean to me,” you pout, cupping the back of his neck and getting closer to him. 
Seungcheol scoffs, shaking his head slightly. He’s quick to change the subject. “Eggs are done, are you going to come sit with me at the table?”
With a sigh, you release the psychologist, allowing him to move the eggs to a plate- and when you turn to head to the table, you see a tray of fresh fruit and other breakfast items.
“There’s orange juice in the fridge, water, or I can make you some coffee,” Seungcheol says, following you to the table where you both take your seats. 
“I’m okay for now,” you tell him, grabbing a particularly tasty-looking piece of fruit to gnaw on. “Thanks, daddy.”
Seungcheol smiles, looking down at the healthy fruit options. “You know,” he says, moving a few pieces of cantaloupe and honeydew to his plate, “I’ve been wondering about you and your daddy kink.”
“Hmm?” 
“Just that- we’ve never discussed it, not explicitly- I guess, being a sugar daddy, the term is in the name, but… you took to it very easily,” he explains.
“Are you suggesting I have inherent daddy issues?”
“Not suggesting, merely… wondering.”
“How about this,” you set your fruit down, “I’ll talk about my daddy issues when you tell me why you think you’d be a bad father.”
Seungcheol looks at you quizzically. 
“I know you say it’s about your work and not having enough time, but- you’re settled in your career and reputation. You have this big house, a chauffeur, a group of smart psychologist friends who are popping out babies right now- and I saw the way you were with baby Yumi. looking at all of that- the only reason I can think of for why you’d be… adverse to babies, is that you have some personal reasons to think you’d be bad at it.” 
The man across from you stays quiet, leaning back in his chair, but a smile works its way across his face. Then, he sighs, “touche.” 
“So I guess neither of us will be talking about our daddy issues at the breakfast table,” you conclude, picking at your fruit again.
“How did I ever find a girl like you on a dating site?” Seungcheol says. “So pretty, and smart-”
“How did I ever find you on a dating site?” you retort, “so sexy, and smart-”
“Maybe finding each other was destiny.”
“Do you believe in that sort of thing?” you ask, cocking your head to the side. “Many men of science that I’ve heard of tend to lean towards atheism.”
“Maybe I used to, but then- let’s just say, I found an angel, and my world’s been flipped upside down ever since.” 
Your heart leaps in your chest, and you avert your gaze, looking down at your fruit. “You’re too sweet to me.”
“As I’ve told you before, angel,” Seungcheol reaches his hand across the table, placing it over your own, “you deserve it.”
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☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! this fic was never supposed to be this long- i don't know what came over me- it was very self-indulgent :) hope you liked it!
🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 
🔮 preview. You can’t believe how easy it is for Seungcheol to get you quaking for him- but you suppose, in some sense, you’re always quaking for your sugar daddy, who’d turned the entire trajectory of your life around the moment you’d met.
cw/ tw. oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, daddy/breeding kink, bickering like an old married couple, praise, semi-bondage, size kink, dirty talk, multiple orgasms, etc...
👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 2.3k I teaser wc. 370
🌙 staring. seungcheol x afab!Reader  
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bonus teaser
“Are you checking your book sales again?” you groan, leaning over the back of the sunlounger chair to look over Seungcheol’s shoulders, your hands smoothing down his bare chest-
“No,” your psychologist lover says, closing his laptop and setting it on the side table next to him. 
“Liar,” you grin, moving around the front of his chair so he can see you and the red bikini adorning your body- one of many sets you’ve accumulated over the two and a half years you’ve been dating Seungcheol. 
You have no actual intent of going into the private pool behind you.
Seungcheol’s eyes eat you up, and the smile of appreciation that works its way onto his lips is as bright and full of affection as it’s always been. “Look at you, angel. I’ll never get tired of seeing you in red.”
“Ass kisser,” you tease, watching him stand up from the poolside chair. “I thought we agreed no work on our honeymoon.”
“It’s true that I promised that- but… checking sales on my new book isn’t work, it’s… checking sales on my new book, and besides, you were asleep,” your husband grins, hands finding your waist and tugging you to his chest. “What if you pretend you never saw me on my laptop.”
You roll your eyes. He’s gotten cheekier the longer you’ve been together, and this playful side of your relationship isn’t something you’d trade for the entire world. 
“You always get up to naughty things while I’m sleeping,” you tease, playing the part of an upset wife.
“Come on,” Seungcheol prompts, leaning down to kiss you, “say you love me.”
“I’ll say I love you when you fulfill your other promise.”
“You know, we’re what, three days into this vacation?” Seungcheol pulls you closer. “Who’s to say I haven’t already pumped a baby into you?”
“Me,” you grin, hooking your fingers in his swim trunks. “I don’t feel full at all right now, in any way, shape, or form.”
“Well then, let’s see what I can do about filling you up sufficiently,” he smiles, leaning down to kiss you one last time before throwing you over his shoulder and taking you back into your private vacation villa..
God, you fucking love this man.
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👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here
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© smileysuh — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed
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Tumblr has tag limits these days, so i'll be tagging others who interacted with the teaser in reblogs :)
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blue-boulder · 1 month
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house md in 2020s headcanons
keep seeing people make these and i thought it was silly, so here’s my contributions:
- house finds wilson’s account on grindr and decides to catfish him. once the jig is up they silently decide to never acknowledge this again
- comphet cameron. nonnegotiable
- foreman has and posts somewhat frequently on instagram threads. nobody finds out because nobody else has threads
- before working at princeton-plainsboro taub specialized in BBLs
- house livestreams DDXs to put more pressure on the ducklings when he feels as though they’re underperforming. he has a decent amount of followers on twitch
- also i’m not sure how hospitals ran during the pandemic but i think at least one DDX during covid was conducted through among us. don’t ask me the logistics of that
- a few of chase’s old musical.ly videos resurface and he gets bullied for it relentlessly
- thirteen was one of the first people to reblog the weed smoking girlfriends post
- house and wilson watch love is blind, the ultimatum, love island, etc etc when skipping clinic duty & place bets on which couples are going to last and which aren’t
- despite dating at the time cuddy went to see oppenheimer and lucas went to see the barbie movie. at the same time in different theatres
- house makes a joke about someone having blue hair and pronouns. also that one post about how he spends two hours researching every pronoun in existence just to use the wrong one on someone would be real
- wilson listens to either broadway soundtracks on his way to work or hozier, no in between. he uses spotify but refuses to look at his wrapped out of fear
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great news for jp dub users for tears of themis!! artem's voice is slowly being added back in 🤗
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scuderiahoney · 3 months
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Love Of My Life
Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Part 5
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Masterlist // Series Masterlist
Summary: Four moments leading up to the big day, and the moment you and Max have been dreaming of.
a/n: I actually have SO much to say but I will save it for the end or maybe a separate post. title thanks to Mr. Harry Styles. Hope you all enjoy this one!
Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content
1. something old
“You should come over Friday,” Louise tells you over the phone. “I’m having some friends over, you’ll love them. It’ll be fun.”
You don’t have anything better to do, really. You’ve had a hard time making friends since you moved here- people were still hesitant to socialize due to Covid. But things are opening back up now, and the one friend you have made wants to introduce you to more people. You should take the chance. You’d be silly not to.
So you head over with a bottle of white wine. You slip your coat off at the door, finding the apartment full of people. You’re suddenly anxious. You don’t know anyone here besides Louise, and you feel like such an outsider already. These people are all already friends, why would you think you could just insert yourself?
Just as you’re thinking about putting your coat back on and pretending you were never there, Louise spots you in the hallway. She calls out your name and beckons you over. Now you’re stuck. There’s no escaping anymore.
She greets you with a hug, squealing in your ear- you can tell she’s already tipsy. You hug her back and smile at her when she pulls away.
“I’m so glad you made it,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in her apartment. “I’ve got so many people I want you to meet.”
She takes you to the kitchen first, where there’s a wide array of alcohol and mixers. You help yourself to a tequila & soda. Then she holds your hand and pulls you through the crowd, making stops along the way. She introduces you to all her friends one by one, and you start to put faces to the names in the stories she’s told you. Everyone is kind and excited to meet you- apparently, they’ve heard a lot about you, too.
By the time you meet Max, you’re three drinks in. Louise doesn’t give you any sort of heads up. You suppose it shouldn’t really matter- to her, he’s just her friend Max. You’re not a big F1 fan, but you know enough to know who Max is. So when you’re suddenly face to face with him in a crowded apartment?
You handle it well, all things considered. The alcohol helps, keeps your hand from shaking when you give him a little wave as Louise gushes about you. Max helps, too- for someone who should be intimidating, he’s incredibly kind. It’s not long before Louise is dragging you off again, someone else she needs you to meet.
Max yells after the two of you, his hand cupped around his mouth. “Nice to meet you!”
You echo it back and laugh as she drags you away. You don’t see him again that night, but Max’s soft smile stays imprinted in the back of your brain for days.
2. something new
Just before Christmas, you and Max host a party. Half your friends are out of town visiting family, but you invite the people who are there to come over for dinner and drinks and games. Daniel, who is usually first to arrive and last to leave, gets there far too early. He rings the doorbell and Max looks at you with a wide grin. He has oven mitts on his hands, and he’s wearing an apron. It’s all very domestic, and it makes your heart sing.
“I’ll get it,” you say, sliding off the kitchen stool and heading for the door.
You take a deep breath before you open it. Daniel comes tumbling in, arms full of food and drinks, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He’s grinning so wide at you that for a moment you think he already knows, but Max had sworn he hadn’t told him yet. He heads towards the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute, but when he turns over his shoulder to look at you he stops in his tracks. He cocks his head at you.
“Something’s different,” he says, one brow quirked. “Did you cut your hair? Something’s… new.”
You shake your head and frown at him. He frowns right back. Then he drops the bottles and bags of food on the couch. He casts a glance towards the kitchen, where Max has his head in the fridge. For a second, you’re worried about what he’s going to ask you.
Then he reaches for your left hand, and you start to laugh.
His grin grows impossibly wider when he spots the ring on your finger. He pulls you into a tight hug before he says anything. You hear Max let out a noise of confusion in the kitchen, but you’re busy hugging Daniel back.
“Congrats,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”
You laugh, tears suddenly threatening to build up in your eyes. “Thank you. And. Thank you,” you say. “For picking me up and bringing me here that night.”
He nods, squeezes his arms around you once more before he pulls away. Max is standing at the kitchen island, watching the two of you with a soft smile.
“Told you he’d notice immediately,” he says. “Lando’s the one who’ll be oblivious.”
Daniel charges across the room to get to Max and wraps him up in a bear hug. Max reciprocates happily, smiling at you over his friend’s shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long time.
“Wait, so is this an engagement party?” He asks, and Max laughs. “Wait, when did you ask her?”
“Just after we got back from Japan,” you answer.
Daniel turns to you, eyes wide. “You little assholes! You’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks?”
He shoves Max’s shoulder lightly. Max shoves him back. Before long, the two of them are playfully wrestling in the kitchen. The timer on the oven goes off, but it doesn’t seem to stop either of them. You sigh, walk over, take the oven mits from the counter, and sidestep the scramble to get to the oven and pull the tray of cookies out.
Louise walks in without knocking and takes in the entire situation- you, a tray of cookies in your hands, Daniel, his arms around Max, Max, with Daniel in a headlock, and she starts to laugh.
“Oh my god, did you guys get engaged?” She asks.
“How did you know?” Max squeaks- Daniel’s pinched his side mid sentence.
“You’re wearing an apron that says fiancé,” Louise laughs.
You collapse into laughter, barely making sure to set the cookies down on the counter. You’d forgotten about the apron, a gag gift from you to him that he’d insisted on actually wearing. Max looks down at his own chest, tucking his chin comically to do so. He still has Daniel in a headlock. The other man is jabbing at Max’s stomach now.
“Huh. Forgot about that,” he says with a shrug.
“Let me see the ring!” Louise says, making her way towards you.
“Shoes off!” Both you and Max call out, pointing at her feet.
She sighs and shares a look of exasperation with Daniel. He rolls his eyes in agreement. Max sees and remembers his previous fight with Daniel, and seems to decide to return to that, shoving his elbow into his friend’s side.
You ignore them and head for Louise, holding your hand out to her. She squeals over the ring, holding onto your hand tightly, eyes lit up.
“Wouldn’t be here without you,” you tell her.
“And that awful strawberry wine,” she says knowingly.
She’s not exactly wrong. Without that night, the strawberry wine that everyone else hated but you and Max liked, you’re not sure what would’ve happened. You like to believe you would’ve found your way to each other- something else to have in common, something else to share. But you wouldn’t trade any of those shared bottles of wine for the entire world. You treasure each moment.
“They got engaged like three weeks ago!” Daniel calls out. “They’re assholes!”
You slip the ring off your finger and turn it around so Louise can see the strawberry, and you watch her face crumple into a sob. You laugh and feel yours do the same.
“Shit,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean it.”
Max gives up on wrestling Daniel. “Baby?”
“It’s okay,” you reassure him, as you pull Louise into a hug. “Happy tears.”
3. something borrowed
You follow Max to Bahrain for the beginning of the F1 season. He’s often busy before he gets in the car, and you usually spend the time hanging out in hospitality or in the garage. But before the first practice of the season, he finds you and pulls you to the side.
He slips the bracelet you gave him from his wrist and hands it to you. “Keep this safe for me?”
You know the rest of his jewelry- his other bracelets, his watch, and any rings he’d worn- are sitting in his driver room. Your chest warms at the thought that he’s worn this one as long as possible, and that he wants you to hold onto it. You smile up at him and slide the bracelet into your own wrist. It’s a bit too big, but it’ll work.
“Sure, I’ll just borrow it for now,” you tell him.
A wide, soft smile spreads across Max’s lips. “Oh. That’s. That’s nice.”
His face has morphed into something warm and full of affection. His eyes are trained on the bracelet, sitting on your wrist, the way it hangs loosely against the base of your hand. It’s comforting to you, too.
You laugh, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You big sap.”
He brushes his thumb against your wrist and kisses your forehead. “But I’m yours.”
“Yeah, you are,” you say, and you kiss his cheek. “Forever. I’ll see you soon, love.”
After the practice, he finds you, his race suit tied around his waist. He pulls you into a hug, and you slip the bracelet off your wrist and onto his. And so, the tradition begins.
By the end of the race the next weekend, the two of you have it down to a science. He takes it off just before he heads to the grid, leaves it with you. You rub your thumb against the metal during the race, wrap your whole hand around it during the more stressful moments. The cold metal against the palm of your other hand is grounding, somehow. When he crosses the finish line in first, you run to greet him with the crew. He pulls you halfway over the barricade when he finds you, helmet still on, and you press your lips to the top of it as he holds you, strong arms right around your middle. He smells like sweat and shakes with the adrenaline of it all. There are people slapping his shoulders eagerly, people reaching to tap his helmet, but for just a moment, all he’s focused on is you. He reaches for your wrist.
You slip the bracelet off and put it back on his wrist for him. You watch his shoulders relax, like the last bit of tension is draining away. You hold onto the sides of his helmet, staring into his eyes, which are nearly squeezed shut. He holds your face in his hands for just a moment, fingers pressed to your skin.
He’s going to be your husband. In all of this chaos, you’re the person he wants by his side, the first one he runs to. It hits you like a freight train, and you swallow down the tears.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, smiling through all of it. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” you tell him, as you let go of him.
Someone pulls him away- he has other things he has to do now. But he’ll come back to you. He always does.
4. something blue
Soon, it’s late summer in Monaco. The hazy afternoon sun is about to slip below the horizon. You’ve just climbed out of bed after a long nap with Max, both of you having been exhausted from the race weekend and the journey back home. For once, you’d been the one trying to coax him to stay in bed. He’d insisted on getting up, on trying to scrape together dinner from what’s left of the groceries in your apartment. So far, you haven’t made much progress beyond opening a bottle of wine and starting a playlist playing.
“Maybe this could be a first dance song,” you suggest, some sappy love song playing over the speakers in the kitchen.
Max shakes his head, wrinkles his nose. “You don’t even know this song.”
“Sounds pretty.”
“It has to mean something, no?” He says, reaching out and pulling you close. “Not just… sounds pretty.”
“Yeah, but… how do we pick a song that sums it all up?” You ask, and his shoulders drop. “I mean. Have you found the song yet?”
“I have ideas,” he says.
“So do I,” you answer, and then you sigh. “But I don’t think any of them are the one.”
Max stands there, hands on your hips. “Let’s test them out,” he says.
You blink up at him, sliding your hands up his abdomen. “Now?”
You look down at yourself, and at him. He’s shirtless, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants and socks. You’re not much more dressed- one of his navy Red Bull tshirts, big enough that it falls down to mid thigh, nothing but your underwear underneath, a pair of light blue cable knit socks on your feet. Your hair is a mess. There are definitely dark circles under your eyes, courtesy of your near-permanent jet lag.
“Yeah, now,” he says, brushing his thumbs against your hips. “You’ve got a list, so do I. How are we going to know which one’s right till we try them out?”
You shrug, then nod, reaching for your phone. You open your music, scrolling to the playlist you’ve already made. Max looks at the screen upside down, trying to read the names of the songs. When the first one begins to play, he takes you into his arms and starts to dance.
The kitchen is big, but it’s no dance floor. The living room might be better, but he seems insistent on staying put. The two of you sway on the tile floors, careful not to bump your hips on the countertops. He spins you in dizzying circles, ones that make you laugh and smile and send you crashing back into his chest. And when you’ve heard enough of each song to know it’s not the song, you skip it.
“Too boring,” he says about one.
“Too cheesy,” you respond to another.
He wrinkles his nose at the next one. “This is even cheesier.”
It’s not long until you’ve exhausted both of your lists. You sigh in defeat, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand sweeps up your back.
“We’ll find it,” you tell him. “Or we’ll get Charles to write us a song.”
Max snorts out a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”
“He was the first of your friends that I met, you know,” you remind him with a teasing lilt.
He bends his head to kiss your forehead, but he stops halfway. His brows furrow. Then he reaches for your phone off the counter, swiping to open it.
“What?” You ask, softly.
“Danny- he suggested a song, a while ago. A long time ago, actually-“ he says. “I had forgotten about it. But. We should try, no?”
You nod. He pressed play. You don’t recognize the song as the first chords play out, but you’ll give it a shot. You rest your head against Max’s chest, let him hold you and sway back and forth. For a moment, you think you’re starting to feel it. That this might be the song. There’s a flutter in your chest.
And then the chorus hits, and you hear the lyrics, and you just know. You look up at Max with tears in your eyes and you know he feels it too. The sun is long gone, now, and the kitchen is filled with that blue, post sunset light. It matches Max’s eyes, brings out the color in them. He leans you back in the kitchen of your apartment and kisses you like you’re his wife- like this could be your first dance at your wedding. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him right back.
You’re not sure how many times you listen to that song that night. Enough to learn all the lyrics, enough to commit the feeling of it to memory. By the end of the night, Max is singing it to you while you wash your face and laugh, and you’re humming it while you climb into bed. You lay there, your head on the pillow, looking over at him. Neither of you can wipe the giant smiles off your lips.
5. and a sixpence in your shoe
You wake up just after the sun on a Saturday morning in early January. The year is still fresh, and Max is in bed next to you. He’s got his arm around your waist, face pressed into the pillow. The sight makes you smile.
Today, you get to marry him. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. As Max starts to wake up, you see the smile slip across his face, too. He opens his eyes and meets yours, and the smile only grows. He reaches out, runs the back of his finger over your cheek.
“My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, softly.
You laugh. “My handsome boyfriend.”
“We have to use that up, you know. Say it while we still can,” he says.
He tugs at your side to pull you closer. You go easily.
“We’re getting married today,” you say to him.
He nods, eyes tracing your face. “Any second thoughts? Cold feet?”
You laugh and bury your face in his chest. You press your feet to his calves and he hisses, rolling over on top of you in retaliation. He presses quick, ticklish kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, and you squeal and try to push him away. He’s much stronger, though, and he keeps you pinned under him.
“My feet are always cold,” you tell him. “But no second thoughts. I’m all in.”
“Are we getting married or playing poker?” He teases. When you groan and shove at his shoulder lightly, he laughs into your neck.
“What about you? Second thoughts?” You ask.
Max laughs again, louder this time. He presses himself closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses the hinge of your jaw gently. His nose brushes against your temple, then, as he presses his lips to your ear.
“Never,” he whispers, making you shiver. “I’m all in, too.”
He pulls away to look at your face, and you’re met with a soft gaze that sends your heart into overdrive. He leans close, lips aiming for yours, his nose bumping against your nose. You let your eyes fall shut, and then there’s someone knocking on your front door, loudly.
“You two better be decent!” Daniel calls out. “We’re here, time to get up!”
You sigh, throwing your head back on the pillow. Max lets out a long, loud groan, hands suddenly everywhere on your body, like he’s trying to get as much touching in as he can before it’s too late. You laugh and try to push him away again, but it’s no use.
“Why’d we tell him to come get us so early?” Max says, bordering on a whine. “And why did he listen to us?”
“He’s your best man,” you remind him. “You chose him.”
There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s your wedding day!” This time it’s Louise, who’s your maid of honor.
You sigh and try to sit up, bringing Max with you. He doesn’t go easily, or willingly. He seems perfectly content to stay tucked in bed, despite the threats from your friends. In fact, the second you’re halfway sitting up, he’s trying to push you back down onto the pillows.
“Max. I’m not wearing a shirt,” you hiss, gesturing down at yourself. “And Danny is threatening to come in here-“
Max sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, we’re getting up,” he calls out. “Give us a minute to get dressed, yeah?”
You meet the two of them in the kitchen ten minutes later. Max is in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, while you’re in a cream lounge set your friend Audrey bought you as a wedding shower gift. You have one of Max’s shirts overtop of it, unbuttoned and hanging like a jacket. Daniel and Louise are sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee and breakfast waiting for both you and Max. Your friends greet each of you with hugs and then rush you both out the door.
You ride to the wedding venue together, and even as you head to get ready, you don’t separate. This is what you both decided- you get ready for every other big event in your lives together, side by side, so why would this one be any different? Your friends all join you, your family members too, trickling in and out of the space. The morning is full of love and light. Max sits next to you and watches you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup artist has to tell him to stop making you laugh- she’s worried she’s going to mess up your lipstick.
Max just grins and shakes his head. “We can’t have that,” he teases. “That’s my job.”
You wait until the last possible second to put on your dress. That’s when you leave Max’s side, letting go of him until you meet him at the end of the aisle. He's in his tux, a blue bow tie around his neck. There’s this peaceful smile on his face, one that grounds you and comforts you every time you see it. He kisses your temple to avoid messing up your makeup, and you smile up at him softly.
“I’ll see you soon,” he promises eyes sparkling.
“Yeah, see you soon,” you answer, feeling giddy.
The wedding itself is a tiny, intimate affair. Just your closest friends and family and someone to officiate. You can see the garden where you’re going to get married from the room you’ve been getting ready in. The guests are all in the seats- your family and Max’s in the front row. Christian, Geri, and GP are there, craning their necks when they spot Max. Lando is there, sitting next to Martin. Your mutual friends take up a whole row, the ones you met the same night you met Max, the ones who welcomed you with open arms. A whole lot of love in such a little space.
You take a deep breath and head downstairs with Louise, who helps make sure your dress is perfect before you head down the aisle. You stay hidden, watching through a window as Max walks down to the front. Daniel gives you a gentle hug, tears already forming in his eyes. Then the music begins, and Louise grabs you by the shoulders.
“This is your last chance,” she says. “I can be your getaway car.”
You laugh, tears already forming in your eyes, and you shake your head. “No. No second thoughts, no cold feet. I’ve never been more sure.”
She grins at you and squeezes your shoulders. “Cool, because we would’ve had to steal Danny’s car. Oh, I have something for you.”
She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a coin- a sixpence. Suddenly, you remember the old rhyme, and panic rushes through your body. She’s smiling, though, and shaking her head.
“Something old,” she says, pointing at the vintage bracelet you’d been gifted by Max’s mother for the day. “The something new is the perfume you bought special for today.”
“Something borrowed,” Daniel chimes in, a wide grin on his face, “is the pair of cufflinks I lent Max. And something blue-“
“His bow tie,” you say, softly. “I picked it because it brings out his eyes, but… it works, right?”
Daniel and Louise both nod, grinning brightly. Tears are already forming in your eyes. Louise swipes them away quickly with a tissue as you slip one of your heels off and place the coin there. You take a deep breath.
“Now I’m ready,” you say with a firm nod.
But really, you’ve been ready since the day you met him.
The rest of it is a bit of a blur. It’s like one moment, you’re standing there, watching it all from the outside. Then the next, you’re at the front with Max, his hands in yours, tears in both of your eyes. You hate crowds, hate public speaking, but for him you’d do anything. For him, you’d shout it all from the rooftops.
He has that soft look on his face, the one that makes you melt every time. His cheeks are rosy red, and you have to fight the urge to sweep your thumb against his face, to lean in and kiss him right there. You barely hear what the officiant is saying, but that’s okay because you already know it by heart.
“Now, I believe the two of you have prepared vows?” The officiant says. “Max, would you like to start us off?”
Max nods, squeezes your hands, smiles at you. You smile right back and hold onto him tightly.
“My wonderful love,” he says, voice so soft and tender it makes your chest hurt. “I spent a lot of my life before I met you wondering how you know when it’s love. But you’ve taught me that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice. At every turn, I choose you, and you have done the same. You’re my sunshine, my quiet in the noise. So in all the messes, in the stressful days, I love you. Not in spite of, or anyways. I love you in all of it, the good and the tough parts. I’d choose you over and over again.” He squeezes your hands softly. “I promise to save you the best strawberries, to listen when you need to talk, to talk when you need to listen. Most of all, I promise to always walk you home.”
God, you love him. You love him so much it’ll burn you up, so much it aches deep in your chest. You can’t quite believe that you get to spend your whole life with him. You hold onto his hands and blink away tears. His blue eyes stare straight into yours, calm and kind as always. If you could, you’d kiss him right then and there. You take a deep breath instead and begin to speak.
“I heard a quote once, that said there are years that ask questions and years that answer. I think that since I’ve met you, it’s all felt like an answer to a question I didn’t even know I had. You pick me up when I fall, you cheer me on when I succeed, and I love being able to do the same for you,” you say, softly. “I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with you, from the dances in our kitchen to watching you win on the racetrack. You’re the best part of my life, my steady rock, my anchor in a storm. I can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I promise to always share the wine, to cheer you on, to be the sane person in a room full of chaos.” He grins widely at that, eyes glittering with tears. “Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”
Then it’s the I dos and the rings, handed to you by Daniel, who’s got tears in his eyes. Your hands shake as you slip the ring onto his finger. Max’s do too. The bands sit perfectly on your fingers, and you can’t take your eyes off Max’s hand- the ring, the bracelet, too. When you finally drag your gaze away, you look up at him again, tears slipping down your cheeks. His face mirrors yours, teary eyed but oh-so-happy.
When the officiant tells him to kiss the bride, he sweeps you up in his arms, the same way he did in the hallway of the club all that time ago, when you were still unsure, when you didn’t realize he wanted this, too. He kisses you sweetly, holds you close, and you feel it in every bone in your body, every muscle, every nerve. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You could do this forever. Forever and ever.
…..
While the wedding was small, the reception is huge, and it’s packed with people. Everyone you or Max have ever spoken to seems to be there. There’s good food, better drinks, and enough strawberry wine to supply the entire city for a month, you’re sure. Someone forces you and Max to sit and eat dinner- you do your best. Then you wander the reception, hand in hand with him, greeting all of your guests.
You’ve changed dresses since the ceremony- out of your more simple white dress and into a bit more of an elegant one. You give so many hugs you think your arms will fall off, and accept countless compliments on the dress and the decor and the food. People tell you how proud they are of the two of you, how happy they are for you, how in love the two of you look.
You’ve just barely collapsed into your chair again, wincing at the ache already present in your feet, when they announce the first dance. Suddenly, you’re rejuvenated. Max grabs your hand and helps you up, a wide smile on his face.
“My wife,” he says, seemingly never tiring of using your new title. “May I have this dance?”
“My husband,” you respond, smiling. “This dance and every single other one.”
He laughs. It’s incredibly cheesy, overly sappy. But someday, a long time ago, you pulled your heart out of your chest and handed it over to him. And he took it, wrapped it up and held it safely, promised to protect it with his life, and then gave you his in exhchange. You have the right to be sappy and cheesy and emotional. He leads you to the dance floor, a million eyes on you. You just stare into his, and the rest of the world disappears as the song begins to play. It’s not the typical kind of music you two listen to, and it’s probably not what your friends were expecting. But when the chorus plays…
You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey
You're as sweet as strawberry wine
You're as warm as a glass of brandy
And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time
You rest your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, one hand linked with yours.
“I love you,” you whisper, fingers dancing in the hair at the nape of his neck.
“I love you, liefje,” he says, brushing a kiss against your forehead.
He kisses you on the lips at the end of the song. Everyone cheers, and you smile into it, unable to help yourself. Max raises one fist above your heads, like he’s just won a race, and you start to laugh. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life.
…..
When the reception ends, the afterparty begins. Most of the older or calmer guests head out. Louise helps you change your dress one more time- from the ballgown to a short party dress. You ditch your heels for a pair of white sneakers and sigh in relief at the feeling. By the time you make an appearance, the party is truly in full swing, and you spot Max up on the DJ stand with Lando and Martin. Years ago, if you’d have guessed who’d DJ your wedding afterparty, you’d have never suggested Martin Garrix and Lando Norris, and yet, here you are.
You climb up there with them, greeting your two friends with hugs before sliding up to Max’s side. He’s lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his neatly tied bow tie hangs loose and crooked from his neck. You reach to try and fix it for him. He looks you up and down, a sly smile on his lips.
He wraps his arms around you, letting his hands fall low on your back. “This might be my favorite dress of the day,” he says into your ear.
You shove at his shoulder lightly. “You’re just drunk and horny.”
He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “No, it’s just… you look the most like you in this one. Like the you I fell in love with.” He nudges his foot against your sneakers. “More comfortable, too.”
You feel warm and soft over that, over the way he’s looking at you right now. “Aw, Maxie,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.
“I mean, you also look hot,” he says, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. “But that is just an added bonus.”
You laugh, your forehead pressed to his chest. There are people all around you, music pounding in your chest, but you’ve got Max, and that’s all you need.
“Should we go dance?” He asks.
You press your lips to his jaw, then his ear. “Yeah, we should.”
The two of you climb down from the platform. Soon enough, you disappear into the crowd of people, his hand linked with yours the whole time.
You stumble out of the club at 3am, Max’s arm wrapped around your waist. Daniel, ever the dutiful best man, is the one to get the two of you into the car, despite Max’s protests that he can walk you home. You wave goodbye to all your friends, who cheer and wave from the sidewalk. Max has his arm around your waist as you lean out the window to hug Louise, and he yelps and pulls you back in when you start to lean too far.
By the time you’re halfway through the elevator ride up to your apartment, you’re pinned between him and the mirrored wall, his lips on yours. It’s messy and hot and you drag your hands down his torso as his hands slide down your back. When the elevator doors slide open on your floor, he picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the front door, pins you against it so he can unlock it, and then stumbles inside, your legs wrapped around his waist. You press your lips to his neck and laugh.
“My wife,” he says, kicking his shoes off and shoving them aside.
You nip at his jaw. “My husband.”
He carries you all the way into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. You’re a giggly mess, covering your face with your hands as he tugs your shoes off your feet for you. When his hands are free, you reach for him, pulling on his dress shirt until it comes untucked from his pants. The motion knocks him off balance, and he catches himself with both hands on either side of your head, face to face with you.
You always love him, really, but he’s your husband now. It makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, makes you giddy and warm inside. You reach for the collar of his shirt and start working on his buttons.
He starts pressing kisses all over your face- your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. Each time you try to chase his lips with your own, he pulls away, kissing some other part of your face. You’re three buttons in on his shirt when you give up, grab for his jaw, and start doing the same to him.
When you pull away, he smiles down at you, and you admire your handiwork. There’s lipstick on his cheeks, now, smudged and messy. There’s a line of it down his jaw, leading to a spot that looks so inviting you have to leave a mark there. You dive in and seal your lips there, pulling a groan from his.
You’ll admit it- you’re the first one to yawn. You have your hands under his shirt, pressed against his warm skin, and his lips are dragging against your neck, and the exhaustion hits you all at once. You cover the yawn with your hand, blinking frantically to try and wake yourself up. You can’t fall asleep during this part of your wedding night.
But. Max’s lips are slow against your neck, and his kisses are messier and messier. You run your fingers along his side and he sighs softly. When you feel him yawn, you nudge his shoulder until he looks up at you. His eyes are half lidded, lips red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.
“Do you really want to have sex right now?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.
“With you? Always,” he mumbles into the bare skin of your collarbone. Then he lets his head drop back against your chest.
“You’re literally falling asleep,” you say, tugging lightly on his hair. You get no reaction. “See? I just pulled your hair, and nothing. That always makes you-“
“Mm. Yeah. Morning sex it is,” he says, nodding against you. “Probably for the best. We have a flight in…” he looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Six hours.”
You groan and cover your face with your hands again. “Why did we do that? It’s your plane, we could’ve picked any time.”
“Your plane, too,” he says against your skin. “Our plane.”
You stare at the ceiling with wide eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex? That sentence was hotter than it should’ve been. Ours.”
Max laughs against you and squeezes your hips. “How about this. We sleep. Wake up at the last possible second. Get in the car, go to the plane. Maybe more sleep. Then, we have-“
“Sex on the plane,” you say with him, nodding. “Fuck, we really are married, huh? We’re scheduling sex.”
“Yes. But it’s okay, because it’s mile high club scheduled sex, so it’s cooler.” Max says, which sends you into a fit of giggles.
Then he shoves at your hips, trying to push you further onto the bed. You go willingly and he follows. The two of you fall asleep still half dressed in your wedding clothes, with his head on your chest and your lipstick all over his face.
…..
You’d had a thought, a long time ago, about a honeymoon phase with Max. It’s what those first weeks had felt like, before anything was official, when you thought nobody knew. Now, you lay between his legs on a beach chair on your actual honeymoon, running your hands through his hair, your chest against his. The morning sun beats down on your skin, warming you up the same way he warms your heart. You look at him, at the smile on his face that matches the one on yours, and you think that maybe this is what relationships are all about. Finding the next honeymoon, the next thing to jump into headfirst, together, hand in hand.
“You’ll walk me home, right?” You’d asked him, so many nights ago in the restaurant lobby.
“Always,” he’d answered.
You look at your rings on your finger, laying against his chest. You feel his ring against your cheek when he cups your face, cold in stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, the warmth of him. Always.
That sounds pretty perfect.
a/n: I actually didn’t know about the sixpence in your shoe part of the wedding rhyme until I wrote this. learn something new every day! anyways. this all started with a oneshot and somehow transformed into this. i have a deeper love for max and a deeper hatred for his affinity for wearing Red Bull merch- it makes it very difficult to make fic headers. thank you to everyone who has helped encourage me while writing this fic, and to everyone who has read any of it i love you all! And now, we say goodbye to the strawberry wine universe, thanks for reading! 🍓🍷
ps. this is the last full part but i might have some blurbs if anyone is interested
taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1
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Clownfall: Endgame - Hello December
I am late writing and posting this, because it's nearly the end of term and I am mega busy (I have leave in two days and I am counting the hours...) BUT some stuff happened last week so let's dig in!
Also quick note before we do: I would like to politely request that you stop tagging this with "England" or "English politics". This is about British politics, not just England, and I am not English. Please do not erase me it takes SO LONG to write these thank you all and goodnight anyway ON WITH THE SHOW
Saturday, 25 November
12.01am
We begin our tale with Oliver Wright of the Times, who reports that … no hang on, wait, I've fucked it, okay. To understand this story, you first need to understand Simon Case.
Simon Case is a civil servant, and current Cabinet Secretary and head of UK Civil Service
He was the highest ranking public official implicated in the Partygate scandal, though he didn’t resign nor was he fined
In the Telegraph’s published WhatsApp messages from Partygate in which Tories all chatted to each other (seriously HOW do those keep getting leaked), Case made fun of holidaymakers stuck in hotel rooms by Covid regulations
In the same messages he also described some opposition to Covid restrictions as “pure Conservative ideology”, which is. An Own Goal
He also described BlowJo as a “nationally distrusted figure” whose isolation rules the public were unlikely to follow, which is true but also the Quiet Part
This information is from Wikipedia, which I’m openly admitting here, so my esteemed colleague hbomberguy can stand down.
Why am I mentioning him! Well. Case was supposed to give evidence to the Covid inquiry in October this year, but didn’t because of medical leave (ironically). In November, he still wasn’t back (should have isolated better, eh, Si), and the inquiry was given private medical information relating to Case (presumably evidence that he’s not just faking it so he doesn't have to be shouted at by angry judges and MPs and that).
So! On Saturday the 25th, eighteen and a half hours before Beep the Meep’s spectacular TV debut, Oliver Wright of the Times reports that Simon Case – uh, before his medical leave - advised Prime Minister Rishi Sunak that he should authorise pre-election talks between the civil service and Labour. Sunak - I suspect obviously - ignored this suggestion, in case it signalled that an election is now imminent.
According to Wright, it’s now questionable whether Case will ever return to his role.
Shame.
Monday, 27 November
2.44pm
House of Commons time! Let's see what our elected representatives are up to.
Tory MP Jill Mortimer says international treaties written 70 years ago "are not fit for purpose" to tackle illegal immigration, so we need to return to the "Deport the browns to Rwanda" plan. Ugh.
2.50pm
The following was reported by Matt Dathan of the Times, so CALL OFF YOUR DOGS hbomberguy.
James Cleverly – the newest Home Secretary, chappie who described another MPs constituency as a shithole in the House of Commons in his second week on the job – says the Rwanda policy isn’t the “be all and end all”.
Robert Jenrick – the Minister of State for Immigration – says the policy is an "extremely important component" of the government's small boats policy.
So! James Cleverly and Robert Jenrick disagree on this matter! Exciting! Hey, Tumblrs, just for fun...
Let’s remember those two names.
2.58pm
Robert Jenrick says boat crossings have been reduced by more than a third in the last year, but that numbers are still unacceptably high.
FUN SELF-STUDY ACTIVITY: Take a moment to form an opinion of Robert Jenrick! It’ll be worth it.
Here is some information to get you started: Jenrick this year ordered some lovely murals of cartoon characters (Mickey Mouse, Tom and Jerry, etc) to be painted over at a children’s asylum centre in Kent. His explicit reason is because he thought they were "too welcoming" for lone refugee children arriving in the UK, and such children should not feel welcome here.
Have you formed your opinion yet? Then I'll continue.
8.13pm
Rishi Sunak cancels a meeting with the Greek Prime Minister in a row over the Elgin Marbles.
Uh, there's a lot going on here - this is about the stolen marble frescoes that should be in the Parthenon in Athens, that gross British thief Lord Elgin stole decades ago and plonked into the British Museum. Greece has been asking for them back ever since, but a small handful of old white men who are in charge of the British Museum don't want to give them back and keep stating that Greece wouldn't look after them properly, which is a hell of a claim given that Elgin literally broke one when he nicked them, and also, he fucking stole them. Anyway, it turns out to the surprise of no one that Sunak also doesn't think we should give them back, and so when the matter was raised in an Anglo-Greek meeting recently Sunak literally walked out of it, even though the meeting was actually about something else.
So HERE HE IS refusing to do any diplomacy with Greece now i.e. his actual fucking job.
This is a big deal for the immigration-obsessed though! According to a Labour source, Greece is an essential ally for any agreement on illegal migration.
And even the Prime Minister’s supporters think he’s got this one wrong.
Wednesday, 29 November
Prime Minister’s Questions!
This is the (televised) point in the week where the PM has to appear in the Commons and be grilled by anyone who wants to put the boot in about anything at all. Keir Starmer decides today is the day to do some actual opposition, pushes Sunak on several fronts, and pretty much everyone reckons this is Starmer’s best ever performance at PMQs. People especially enjoy Starmer calling Rishi the “man with the reverse Midas touch”.
This is not, strictly speaking, actually funny. But it's political humour, which is like office humour. It doesn't actually have to be.
12.22pm
A former cabinet member tells the press that the Greek government are furious at Sunak’s snub. Uh oh!
Thursday, 30 November
Disgraced former Secretary of State for Health and all round human 1950s meat blancmange Matt Hancock talks to the Covid inquiry today. Specifically, to explain why he, the then-Secretary of State for Health, led the government so badly in the pandemic that we developed the second highest death rate in the world. To hear him tell it, he was an underdog hero doing his best to fight a toxic culture at Whitehall to get the pandemic handled responsibly.
The only problem with this is that it is contradicted by everyone else’s accounts.
He is called a “proven liar” who was “unfit for the job” by proven liar and unfit for his job Dominic Cummings. Former civil servant Helen MacNamara says Hancock displayed “nuclear levels” of overconfidence and said lots of things that later turned out to be untrue. Sadly for HandCock, he said these things to cameras that were recording him onto the telly, and so we do actually know.
Monday, 4 December
Keir Starmer talked about the economy today. He won’t rule out cutting public services, and it looks like he’s trying to tell disenfranchised Tory voters to jump ship to Labour.
Hope it’s a bluff! Very depressing if he’s serious. This is nowhere near as much fun as Tories being humiliated.
21.47pm
GOOD NEWS EVERYONE!
Tumblr media
(This is from the Mirror, you can’t destory me on your YouTube.)
Labour MP Diana Johnson proposes an amendment to the Victims and Prisoners Bill to compensate thousands of patients infected with HIV and hepatitis C through contaminated blood products in the 70s and 80s, to the tune of billions of pounds.
And it WON!  Narrowly – 246 votes to 242.  A huge deal, because that includes 23 Tory backbenchers.  That is very bad for Rishi Sunak. He he he.
Tory MP Edward Argar had tried to sort this in adance, by saying the government would provide their own similar amendment to the bill.  Basically, he realised this was a controversial bill for the party, and wanted to present a version that could be a Tory victory rather than a Labour victory and Tory humiliation.
Didn’t work.
And neither did a THREE LINE WHIP for Tory MPs to vote against the Labour plan?!?? YES KIDS YOU READ THAT RIGHT Sunak didn't want people infected with HIV and hepatitis C through contaminated blood products in the 70s and 80s to receive compensation in case it made him look bad, so he imposed a three line whip to force Tories to vote against it.
And 23 of them rebelled.
And now he looks even worse.
Lol.
Tuesday, 5 December
Have you done your homework, Tumblrs? Have you remembered those names? Have you formed an opinion?
7.38am
Home Office minister and children's cartoon hater Robert Jenrick is interviewed on Sky News.  It’s ugly stuff.  He refers to small boats “[breaking] in” to the UK.  He insists asylum seekers WILL start being deported to Rwanda before the next General Election.  And generally does big talk about cutting immigration.
What a hero.
1.27pm
James Cleverly is in Rwandan capital Kigali, as the UK signs a new treaty designed to help score the Supreme Court’s approval for the Rwanda plan.
1.40pm
So!
Cleverly’s doing pretty much what he said he’d do.  He’s trying to legislate to make the Rwanda plan safer, rather than try to disapply human rights treaties. This, of course, is the Sensible Plan, if your plan is still to get people killed, but you want it to actually succeed.
But former Home Secretary Cruella Braverman is driving a load of Tories to push to disapply human rights obligations – and she’s joined in this by Robert Jenrick!!!!
That’s RIGHT!  Hope you remembered his name, because now he’s a VILLAIN!  Or, well, more of one, and in a more immediate way. After disagreeing with Cleverly in the commons on 27 November, he’s joined Team Suella.  Tonight he’ll be part of a meeting between three different right-wing groupings...
1.46pm
The new treaty guarantees that, if these plans go ahead, asylum seekers won’t be returned to countries where their lives or freedom are threatened, and creates a requirement for an independent monitoring committee.
This treaty would be great if we lived in a world where the Supreme Court trusted the Rwandan government to honour treaty obligations.  But we live in the world where NOT having this trust was part of the reason the Supreme Court ruled the plans unlawful.
Even if this wasn’t the case, we still need new legislation, and that’ll be way more controversial than this new treaty.  The legislation was said to be ready by Thursday, which is a very short turnaround that only a lunatic would believe, but in a SHOCK DISAPPOINTING U-TURN the government now refuses to commit to this.
In any case...
This is causing cracks in the Tory party.
10.33pm
The Parliament's Christmas tree lights are turned on! 
It goes as well as anything else in Parliament:
youtube
A visual representation of the Tory Party schism.
Wednesday, 6 December
8.21am
Boris Johnson arrives at the covid inquiry.  He will be questioned for two days.
He he he
10.26am
Johnson is asked why around 5,000 WhatsApp messages were lost on his phone from January to June 2020.
Tumblr media
Steffan made this brilliant meme. Please do not grass me up to hbomberman.
11.33am
It’s clear by now that Johnson wasn’t alert to the danger of covid by February 2020.  Johnson says it wasn’t declared a pandemic by WTO yet, and he wasn’t asked about it in PMQs. Gosh! What a good point, maybe!
Until the KC points out a troubling fact: “You were the Prime Minister.”
Ah. Yes. PMQs are irrelevant, you see – the Prime Minister is allowed information that the opposition aren’t. 
And, indeed, he probably would have had, if he'd actually attended the five Cobra meetings about it that would have briefed him on it just as the virus was being discovered.
12.49pm
Tumblr media
2.24pm
I’m skipping most of this stuff, since it’s normal lies and non-specific apologies from BJ.
But this one’s interesting.  Matt HandCock claimed he told Johnson on 13 March to call a lockdown.  There’s no written evidence of this happening.  Johnson outright contradicts it.
Lol
5.43pm
Cruella Braverman rejects Sunak’s Rwanda bill.  It fails the five tests she claimed his bill would need to pass.
These are tests she made up and published in a newspaper, I should stress, like they don't exist and she is not an authority. This is a bit like if I marched into your house, dear reader, and went "You are not allowed to celebrate the holidays this year because I personally said you have to pass my tests first and you haven't", and I'm pretty sure if I tried that you would drop me in a bin and laugh at me.
But, she has many supporters on the Tory right...
5.48pm
The Sun’s political correspondent says that if the Lords try to block emergency legislation, some Tory MPs reckon Sunak should call an election, fighting on Rwanda.
I desperately want this.  I DESPERATELY want this. They’ll lose that election so badly. SO badly. God, likes charge reblogs cast.
6.53pm
The villain Robert Jenrick … RESIGNS!
Oh no!  This is not good news if you’re the Prime Minister.
Fucking fantastic for the rest of us, though
7.26pm
Jenrick publishes his resignation letter on Twitter.  It’s two pages long, claiming the PM’s Rwanda plan basically won’t work.
Jenrick’s not wrong about that, but I speak as someone who doesn’t want any version of the Rwanda plan – not the monstrous Sunak one, and certainly not the hypermonstrous Braverman one. Good. Thanks for confirming, Darth Bell-end.
8.31pm
I enjoyed this tweet.
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8.52pm
Sunak writes back to Jenrick, claiming the new plan WILL work.
Which is not normally what happens?!? Normally they yell about their current madness in a letter, publish it on Twitter because no one else cares or will agree, and get roundly ignored. But, desperate times! Here, Sunak’s challenge is to try to win over the Tories who don’t believe in his ability to deliver the plan.  It’s a big ask.
So what are we left with?
10.37pm
A senior figure on the Tory right is asked whether their side will kill Sunak’s bill. 
And they’re not sure! If it’s the only offer on the table, it seems sensible to vote for it. 
BUT the right wing of the Tories aren’t famously very sensible.  They’ll probably try and add amendments at the very least, but it’s genuinely possible they’ll reject it out of spite, because they are LUNATICS.  Or as a political move to weaken Sunak.
And that's what you missed in the Tory Civil War!
(Up to last week)
494 notes · View notes
literaryavenger · 4 months
Text
New Year's Eve
Summary: A game of two truths and a lie reveals to the team a fact about the you that Bucky can’t seem to stop thinking about.
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Female Reader
Warnings: Minimal use of Y/N. Language 'cause why not. A lot of fluff. My poor attempts at being funny. Mutual pining, idiots in love. Self-deprecating thoughts.
Word Count: 3.2K
A/N: Happy New Year's Eve! Thanks for all the messages when I was sick, I'm finally feeling better and I'm negative for Covid! I really wanted to post something for New Year's Eve and this came from a fever dream I had when I was sick, lol. I hope it's any good and someone enjoys it! A particular thank you to @ordelixx for helping me with this story!💘I've only started posting here about a month and a half but I'm really enjoying it and feeling more and more comfortable in my writing. I hope I'm also getting better at it. Anyway, I have big plans for the New Year that I hope you'll enjoy! This year hasn't been great for me, but I'm planning on working harder than ever to make sure the next one is a year I can be proud of. I hope you guys have a nice last day of 2023 and an amazing start of 2024! Love you all.💘
Masterlist
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“Ok, your turn, Kill Bill. Two truths and a lie, go.” Tony says, referring to the fact that you fight with swords, making you roll your eyes before you join in on the laughter.
“Ok, uhm...” you try not to look at anyone so you don’t give away the answer “I have a teddy bear that I sleep with, I have bungee jumped from the top of the tower and I’ve never had a New Year’s kiss.”
You look back up to the room and wait for their guesses.
It’s a Friday night and the people that remained in the Tower for the holidays decided to have a little game night.
Every year the same people stay around, having nowhere in particular to go, and spend Christmas together. 
Clint and Scott usually spend this time with their families, this year Thor decided to go to New Asgard with Bruce and Loki to visit Val and Korg, and Peter decided to spend it with aunt May and Happy.
You usually alternate between going to visit your family and staying in the tower each year, and this one was your turn to go to your first home.
You came back the day after Christmas, never being one to miss Tony’s New Year’s Eve party that’s gonna happen in two days now.
“Well, we know she has a teddy bear.” Wanda says.
“Do we know that?” Tony turns to you, narrowing his eyes. “Do you have one?”
“Yes, she does, we’ve seen it” Natasha answers for you while you glance at Bucky, praying he doesn’t put together that they’re talking about the teddy bear he gifted you for Valentine’s Day this year along with flowers. 
Natasha and Wanda were more happy than you when you told them, sustaining that he did it because he liked you until you pointed out that he gave flowers to them too, because he’s sweet and a gentleman and that’s just who he is.
They wouldn’t let up on the fact that neither of them got a teddy bear though, and you would have agreed with them but Bucky never really did anything else about it so you decided to let it go and not read too much into it.
You're brought back to the present by Tony.
“Ok, so she has one. Then it’s gotta be the New Year’s kiss, everyone has had one at least once in their life,” he was looking at your reaction very closely while talking, but you did your best to keep an easy smile and not give anything away.
“Even Captain Virgin over there had one last year.” he adds vaguely waving towards Steve’s general direction. 
You crack at the nickname and at the undignified sound Steve made while blushing and glancing at Nat that shared that kiss with him.
“Tony, there’s no way that she bungee jumped from the roof without us knowing, that’s gotta be the lie.” Sam interjects, also watching you closely for any signs of a reaction that you manage not to give.
“Alright, just take your guesses, people.” You say to the group.
“New Year’s Kiss.” Tony all but yelled, Natasha and Wanda agreeing with him.
“Bungee jump.” Sam says and Steve and Bucky agree, then they all seem to hold their breath as they wait for your answer.
It’s not a surprise that even these stupid little games cause a lot of competition amongst the team.
“Neither.”-you finally said and let out a laugh when they all groan in annoyance while taking their shots for guessing wrong.
“WAIT- you bungee jumped off the ROOF? When?!” Steve seems more concerned than anything.
“Well, you know a few months ago when we happened to all be on different missions at the same time?” They nod, not knowing where you're going with this “Clint and I came back first from ours, we were bored and there was no one around to stop us from doing anything stupid so…” you trail off, shrugging while laughing. 
Steve looks shocked, Sam is laughing his ass off while Tony immediately goes to look for the security footage.
They all cheered while watching you throw yourself off the roof, Clint's yells and laughter could be heard, and then Steve shakes his head while joining you in the laughter when you see Clint take his turn and scream like a little girl while you fall to the ground laughing on the video. 
Once you all composed yourselves, Tony pokes Wanda’s arm “I thought you said she had a teddy bear.” he's looking at her like she brought him on a treasure hunt and then betrayed him and left him for dead on a deserted island.
“She does! She got it from-” you interrupt her before she can finish the sentence, blushing a little and avoiding Bucky’s eyes.
“I do have a teddy bear, I just don’t sleep with it.” you say, shrugging.
“Oh, come on, that’s cheating!” Natasha whines.
“It’s really not, just because I do have one it doesn’t mean I didn’t tell a lie about it” you laugh at her pout.
“Wait a minute, so you’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?” Tony looks at you like you suddenly grew two heads.
“It’s not a big deal. Funny thing is, I have had boyfriends during New Year’s Eve, I just never happen to spend the day with them.” you say absentmindedly while thinking back at all the parties you’ve been to over the years to celebrate the new year.
“Really?” it's so quiet you almost missed it, your eyes snapping up to meet Bucky’s that were already looking at you.
“Is that so hard to believe?” The room seems to go quiet as everybody looks at you two, but you're too focused on each other to notice.
“I didn’t- I mean…” his cheeks started to turn a little pink as he seemed to have trouble finishing his sentence “It’s just you’re very pretty, who wouldn’t want to kiss you?”
You didn’t know what to say to that, you start blushing too while opening and closing your mouth a couple of times, looking like a damn fish.
You settle for a quiet ‘thank you’ with a smile that he shyly returns, neither of you noticing the glances passed by everyone else.
The whole team is convinced that there’s something between you and Bucky, but both of you always deny it and don’t seem to read too much into each other’s actions, always dismissing the glances and lingering touches as friendly affection even though you’re not really that close.
But really what else could it be?
The team lets the moment end and the game goes on, everyone keeps drinking and having fun until it gets really late and you all decide to call it a night.
Bucky goes to his bedroom and gets ready for sleep but he can’t seem to focus on anything else but you.
He really doesn’t understand how can anybody see your pretty self when you’ve just woken up, no makeup and your eyes full of sleep and not want to kiss you, let alone when you are all dolled up in a pretty golden dresses like you do every New Year’s. 
Every year it gets harder for him not to just grab you and kiss you, hell every day is pretty much torture to see you around the Compound and not get to be with you the way he wants to.
But he has to keep his hands to himself because there’s no way you could actually like him like that. 
He’s even tried to drop hints here and there like giving you the teddy bear for Valentine’s Day but, except for the cute shade of pink that your face turned, you still didn’t seem all that interested.
Still, that didn’t stop him from thinking what it would be like if you did like him and fantasize about being your first New Year’s kiss and maybe even your last first kiss.
At the same time you were in your own room getting ready for bed while your own thoughts kept going back to the moment you shared with Bucky in the living room. 
You didn’t know if you were more embarrassed because you actually told the team you’ve never had a kiss on New Year’s Eve or happy because Bucky called you pretty.
If it was anyone else you wouldn’t even think twice about it, but coming from him it just felt like you were being complimented for the first time ever. 
Everytime you thought about it you felt all warm and fuzzy inside, and at this point the moment was pretty much on loop in your mind.
The more you think about it the more you feel your face heat up, sleep not coming easily as you slip into Bucky filled dreams.
The next day everybody’s hanging out in the living room, most of them nursing a hangover from last night. You get ready for a last minute shopping trip to try and find a new dress for New Year’s Eve.
When you get to the living room you see Steve grinning at a disgruntled Tony, Wanda, Sam and Natasha who are obviously very hangover and nowhere near as amused as the blonde supersoldier. 
Bucky’s attention is on you as soon as you're in his field of vision and no one fails to notice it, except you of course, your own attention on Wanda and Natasha sprawled on the couch.
“Well, I was gonna ask you if you wanted to come shopping with me,” you start watching from one to the other, as amused as Steve at everyone’s inability to contain themselves when drinking. “but I don’t think that’s happening.” 
“Bite me, YLN.” Is all Nat says.
Wanda, on the other hand, is a little gentler. “I can come with you, if you want.” she says sweetly.
“That’s okay, Wands.” you smile at her “just rest and drink lots of water.”
You turn around, saying bye to everyone and making your way out. As soon as the doors of the elevator close, everyone turns to Bucky that's not even pretending not to be staring anymore.
Not that anyone could ignore the longing look on Bucky’s face as he watches you walk away.
“Buck,” Steve starts talking, glancing at everyone before setting his gaze back on his best friend. “we need to talk.”
“Okay…” he slowly drags out, unsure if he even wants Steve to keep going.
“Well, we’ve been noticing some things lately…” He’s unsure of how to say this. “Between you and Y/N.”
Bucky’s cheeks start to turn a slight shade of pink, but he’s still not sure where Steve’s going with this so he says nothing.
“So we thought” he gestures around at everybody. “that maybe we should-”
“We know you like her, and we want to help you get with her.” Tony interrupts Steve, quickly getting to the point.
At Steve’s glare, Tony merely raises his hands in surrender saying, “Listen, Capsicle, I’m way too hungover to take the panoramic route. Let’s just get this over with.”
“Yeah, Stark’s right.” Sam says, turning Bucky whose face is fully red now. “You have a weak ass game, man. Let us help you.”
They all look at the brunette supersoldier while waiting for his answer. He chews on his lip while looking at the expectant faces of his friends, before letting out a deep sigh.
“How would you even help me?” He says quietly, neither accepting nor denying their help just yet.
“Well, we know Y/N,” Wanda says.
“Yeah, we can tell you what turns her on.” Natasha smirked, before Wanda flicks her ear making her let out an ‘ow’ with a slight pout.
“What she means is,” she glares at Natasha “we can tell you what she likes, you know. Maybe help you get closer to her.”
Bucky shakes his head lightly “This is not a good idea. And it doesn’t even matter if she doesn’t like me.”
Wanda and Natasha seem to have a silent conversation, ending with Natasha raising her eyebrow at Wanda and Wanda just sighing with a soft ‘fine’.
“She does like you.” Wanda turns back to Bucky.
“She’s just convinced that you don’t like her like that.” Natasha says with a roll of her eyes.
Bucky still wasn’t completely convinced, but he agreed nonetheless. Maybe it was the glimmer of hope the girls gave him, but if there was even the slightest chance you could actually like him, he owed it to himself to try. 
So he let the team make a plan to get you guys together, hoping to god he wouldn’t come to regret it.
You come home a few hours later, super excited to have found the perfect dress for the party the next night.
Bucky thought you were just so cute, all smiles and giggles.
Wanda and Nat talked you into having the last girls night of the year, although it didn’t really take much convincing.
And so the plan begins.
You’re relaxing on your bed, Wanda lying next to you, your head on her lap, and Nat sprawled on the love seat near the window close to your bed.
You’re wearing bathrobes, sheet masks on your faces as you watch a cheesy romcom that you’re so embarrassingly into you don’t even notice the girls exchange a look and nod at each other.
Wanda clears her throat and then begins talking, as casually as she can. “So, how come you never told us you never had a New Year’s kiss?”
They had to approach the subject somehow, right?
“I don’t know,” you say absentmindedly and then shrug, your attention still on the Tv. “didn’t think it was important.” 
“Sure it isn’t.” Nat said, and her tone took your attention away from the movie for the first time since it started.
“What’s that supposed to mean, Tasha?” she simply shrugs, an innocent look in the face.
“It doesn’t mean anything” she says, her attention seemingly on the movie “I mean, if it doesn’t bother you, it doesn’t bother me.”
“Why would it bother me?” you frown, you don't understand what's so weird about this.
“Well, some people might find it a little…” Wanda trails off.
“Sad?” Natasha ends for her.
“It’s not like I’ve never kissed anyone.” you're starting to get a little defensive.
“We know that, sweetie.” Wanda coos, stroking your hair while you look up at her.
“We really didn’t mean anything by it.” Natasha ends, giving you an apologetic look.
“Yeah, whatever.” is all you say, and you turn your eyes back to the tv, your attention nowhere near it.
Natasha and Wanda can basically hear the gears turn in your head and give each other one last glance. 
Part one of the plan is complete.
The next day goes through like usual, the team spending basically the whole morning together.
It’s a tradition, having the last breakfast of the year together, watching the last movie, having the last lunch and so on. Doing all the lasts together.
It’s silly, but it’s a tradition you've all come to be very fond of. 
The afternoon comes and you and the girls spend it getting ready for the party, last night’s conversation almost forgotten.
Almost.
As you got to the party the music was deafening before you even stepped out of the elevator and, once you did, you were immediately immersed in a sea of perfume and cologne and, like every other Stark party extravaganza, you didn’t know about 98% of the people there. 
You quickly find the team, as outgoing as most of them are, you usually spend most of the night together because it’s the last night of the year, last party and, again, it's your tradition.
You talk, you joke, you laugh but the more you drink the more you keep thinking about your conversation with the girls last night.
Was it really that sad that you’ve never started a new year with a kiss?
Midnight came sooner than you would’ve liked and your teammates decide to ask you a sobering question.
“So, who are you kissing?” Tony asks very casually.
You turn around confused, the team’s eyes all on you. “What are you talking about?”
“Oh, nobody told you?” Sam says, looking around him “We’re all kissing someone tonight.”
“I- You- What?” you glance towards Bucky so quickly he almost thought he imagined it.
“Well, Romanoff is kissing Rogers, I’m obviously kissing Pepper and Wanda is kissing Wilson.” Tony said, before specifying while pointing at the last two “As friends, obviously.”
“So, you’re all kissing someone?” You look at everyone except the one person you actually want to look at.
Something inside of you just believes that he would nod too and a beautiful woman that you could never compare to would appear at his side.
“Well,” Steve starts. “not all of us…”
He trails off and, following his gaze, you land on the very pair of blue eyes you were trying to avoid.
Suddenly everyone else scatters and it was just you and Bucky. You don't know what to say, but you feel like you can't look away from him now.
What the hell is happening to you?
You’re talking before you can even stop yourself “You know, we could also kiss. As friends.” you add, realizing what you just said, your eyes wide with your own surprise.
He’s about to say something, but you don’t give him a chance to get a sound out before you’re backtracking so fast you might actually fall out the window.
“You don’t have to. Obviously. It’s not like I’d make you.” you chuckled awkwardly, but you can’t stop yourself from rambling “Unless you wanted to. But why would you want to? It’s not like you’re missing anything. I’m not anything special.”
You can hear the countdown starting, but it sounds distant to your ears as your heart pounds faster. “I mean, I’m sure you’re a good kisser. Why wouldn’t you be? Not that you’re like a lady’s man.”
Bucky glances around him, the team giving him encouraging looks as they near zero and you just keep going “But like you were, you know. Not that it’s a bad thi-”
You're thankfully interrupted abruptly by Bucky’s lips on yours just as everyone yells ‘Happy New Year’ and gold and black confetti starts falling down on you.
You can't even begin to comprehend what's happening but your body does, kissing him back almost immediately.
It feels like forever and also too soon when he pulls away, you can't even hearing the chaos around you anymore.
All that exists is you and Bucky and his eyes and his arms around your waist and yours around his neck and his lips that you wanted to kiss again and kiss forever and never stop.
“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he says after a few seconds. Or maybe days. Weeks? Hours? It doesn’t matter.
All that matters is the bright smile he gives you when you say “Me too.”
He kisses you again, but this time the spell is broken by the team’s whistles and cheers. 
When you pull away you’re both blushing a little, you glance around you and see all the smug faces of the idiots you love to death, Bucky’s attention never leaving you.
“And by the way,” Bucky says, gaining your attention once more. “you have more qualities than you think,” he then pointed at your chest “You have this.”
You looked down to where he was pointing before saying “I do have great tits, yes.”
When you looked back at him he was blushing even harder and looked like he was having a hard time maintaining eye contact, while you were more relaxed now that the kiss took away all the awkwardness, but trying hard not to laugh. 
“... I meant heart” he said after a few moments of silence.
“Either or.” you answered, shrugging and when you heard the snickers of the team around you, you couldn’t help but join them, followed by a still blushing Bucky.
Yep, this year is definitely gonna be an interesting one.
633 notes · View notes
photmath · 4 months
Text
Secret Santa | Trent Alexander-Arnold
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Pairing: Trent Alexander-Arnold x Female Reader
Summary: A Secret Santa exchange leads to a rekindling relationship.
Word Count: 5.3k
Warnings: BLOWJOB (18+), secret santa/christmas themes, situationship somewhat, cursing, idiots in love, soft trent
Note: I had massive brain fog and covid while writing a good chunk of this so sorry, also wanted to have it posted before christmas but when have I ever posted something on time. Happy Holidays and readings!
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As the night winded down, the group of friends were already thinking about their next hangout, you just happened to be there as they begged you to join in on their Secret Santa exchange.
“Oh come on, it’d be an even number with you!” Sara chimes, you swigging the chilled drink in your hand.
“You don’t need an even number for Secret Santa,” you correct and the boys let out a tut.
“Just this once, there’s a budget,” Jude begs, his beady eyes widening. “It’s thirty bucks.”
You roll your eyes bashfully, “Okay, count me in then.”
Your eyes don’t mean to land on Trent but they do anyway. He’s tucked into the sofa next to Jude, his mouth covered with the red cup he has resting on his bottom lip. His locs stop just above his eyebrow, and the black hoodie he has on looks comforting. You two maintain eye contact until he looks down.
Ben gathers everyone’s emails before you and Sara head out for the night. You had rode with Sara, living in the same apartment complex, but she lags behind telling the others bye. You do the same, mumbling goodbyes and giving out sidehugs.
It had been a while since you hung out with them all at once again. After a year's worth of studies and the summer, you had kinda mingled away from the tight group of friends you were once a part of. It didn’t help that you and Trent had a huge fight that catalyzed you from stepping away from the group, and no one seemed to notice just how close you and Trent were for them to suspect it was because of him. He played a part in making you keep your distance, but you were also so much more busy than before. You had a demanding job while still having to manage your uni classes, so those late nights hanging out with them became scarce.
It was beginning to get chilly while you waited for Sara outside on the front patio. And just when you thought it was her stepping out of the front door, Trent came out and your shoulders sunk.
“So, you’re back,” he states, slipping the hood over his head and then shoving his fists into the jumper’s pocket.
You nod, “Yeah, looks like I got dragged into doing Secret Santa, sounds fun.”
“When are you leaving?” His voice is small, almost like he doesn’t want to know the answer but asks anyway.
Pulling your thin jacket tighter, you raise your hands, “Um, I’m waiting for Sara.”
“You aren’t gonna stay?”
“What do you mean?”
“The boys,” he points back into the apartment and scratches his head bleakly, “we’re having a sleepover. The other girls are staying, I mean if you want to.”
“Oh,” you say. You had heard about it but you definitely didn’t intend on staying over, not in their scary, germy apartment. Trent, Jude, Ben, and Aaron were great, but they desperately needed a deep clean. “Um, Sara isn’t staying though.”
He shakes his head, “Doesn’t mean you have to leave too.”
You narrow your eyes at him, he nonchalantly shrugs. “Would you be okay if I were to stay?”
He raises his hands up in surrender, “I’m just glad to see ya. It’s been a couple of months.”
“We saw each other last month.”
“We didn’t talk though,” Trent chirps, licking his bottom lip. “Come on, stay. Walk with me to my car, I have to get some blankets.”
“Do you think that’s a good idea, Trent?” you ask. It slips out of your mouth much more ominously than you intend.
He gives you a dubious look, “What? Think I can’t keep my hands to myself?”
“Trent!” you gasp. He grabs your arm and leads you down the stairs in front of his apartment. Your hand slips into the groove of his elbow, him locking your hand in place.
You two ended during the summer break, you deciding to put an end to the back and forth flings you both had going on. Sneaking around each other wasn’t hard to do, but denying you having feelings for him was. He didn’t feel the same, and wanted to keep what the two of you shared strictly between sex, but him singing songs in your ear while he’d be on the cusp of sleep, caressing your skin so tenderly afterward, and trying his best to cook breakfast for you in the morning or even late at night, it was hard not to fall in love with him. Especially when you would catch him across the room and he’d beam so brightly. He would be mid conversation with someone, but the moment he saw you, he was grinning ear to ear.
“I’m sure these blankets are really in your car,” you say sarcastically. There was always something in his car. It would be his way of sneaking you off for a quickie, but god were you in the mood to do that now? You couldn’t deny it, the idea of you sneaking off like old times did tug a heartstring but you couldn’t. Now was not the time to think with something other than your head.
Trent opens up the back seat of his car, revealing four neatly-rolled, holiday blankets, “Get your head out of the gutter, sweetheart.”
You roll your eyes, helping him grab two of them although he could carry all four. You hated just how nostalgic it felt to visit his car, his black Range Rover, its windows always fogged after the two of you stepped out of it. A part of you was glad that he didn’t try to do something while you were out here, but another part of you was…disappointed? Had he really moved on three months later? While you were left in sputtering sobs—
“Hey,” Trent calls out, his breath billowing out in front of him. He’s standing a couple of steps in front, looking back at you. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” you muster and catch up to him, not realizing that you had stopped following him. The sound of his car locking rings through your ears as he wears a sincere smile while he waits. He lets you pass him to walk in front of him.
Sara is making her way down the stairs by the time you two arrive back, “Hey! Are you ready?”
“I changed my mind,” you smile meekly, “I think I’m going to stay.”
“Oh, okay!” Sara says, bringing you in for a hug. For a moment, you were glad of her agreeable personality because she wasn’t going to ask why you changed your mind and you weren’t sure what you’d say if she put you on the spot. You were staying because of friends, right? “I’ll see you in a week!”
Sara hugs Trent briefly and then the two of you make your way back upstairs quietly. Trent’s phone pings and you feel the buzz of your own phone in your pocket. The both of you pause to read the notification, an email from Ben with your Secret Santa assignments.
You raise an eyebrow at Trent as the both of you glance at each other. Unlocking your phone, you quickly find the email and open it, reading that you’re assigned Delilah. That should be easy, you knew her like the back of your hand.
“Who do you have?” he asks.
“It’s a secret.” Slipping your phone into your pocket, you peer up at him. He looks down at you with a smirk, his lips glistening from having just licked them. “Get chapstick or something.”
He chuckles, opening the door. Delilah and Ava are cuddled up on their sofa in their pajamas, their faces shocked but then quickly filled with excitement when they see you.
“You’re staying!” Ava cheers. The next movie they have lined up is How the Grinch Stole Christmas, a Christmas classic. And of course the only open two seats on the sofa is next to an unsuspecting Jude.
Trent hands out the blankets but keeps one to himself, plopping down in the spot next to you, unfolding it over the two of you. A part of you would’ve pushed away the blanket but even in your pajama pants you were cold.
“Thanks,” you mutter, ignoring the arm that lands over your shoulders. Trent was suddenly being a lot more vocal than he was earlier, maybe it was the confidence from the alcohol he had drank, but just two hours ago he had trouble looking at you.
It wasn’t awkward, but it was definitely a sudden switch. All it took was you almost leaving for him to chat with you like nothing happened.
Throughout the movie, you all laughed during the funny scenes, Jude nearly clutching onto you because of just how hilarious the Grinch was. Trent didn’t shy away from letting his arm fall and grasp your shoulder occasionally, but seriously, what was up with him? Earlier at his car it piqued you with interest to be talking to him, referencing the past, but now he seemed to be adamantly ignoring it.
Something sour bursts in your mouth as you shrug Trent’s arm off your shoulder, excusing yourself off the couch and to the guest restroom down the hall.
Trent’s bedroom was the only bedroom downstairs, planted right next to the guest restroom, so it shouldn’t have shocked you to see him in his bedroom with the door wide open, but still, it did. He was pulling his black hoodie over his head, left shirtless. Look away!
Trent catches your stare through the hallway and heat rushes to your cheeks in an instant. He smirks, kicking his door open wider and then slipping on a white tee. His red plaid pajama pants hang dangerously low.
You had to talk to him anyway, so you walked inside and closed the door.
“Hey,” he says, eyebrows raised, but his eyelids hood the closer you walk to him. A part of him knew you would come into his room.
“Can we talk?”
“Sure.” He sits down on the edge of the bed patting the spot next to him but you stay standing.
“We’re good…right?”
His eyebrows furrow, “What do you mean?”
“Okay,” you blow out a raspberry. “Last time we spoke, I told you I had feelings for you and then we argued, and then you pranced off. You basically said you didn’t feel the same and that we should stop, but during the movie you put your arm around me making me feel confused.”
“I can’t just rest my arm?”
Your jaw drops, you knew it was dumb. Knew it was haste. Knew that you didn’t really have something to talk about him. Maybe a part of you was still hurt from his rejection, hoping that he felt the same. That the months apart left him a dull ache, but here he was staring at you with those same serious—but blank—brown eyes that broke your heart months ago.
“Unbelievable,” you mumble and turn towards his door. His hand is on your wrist before you can even reach the exit.
“Wait.” Facing him, you pull your hand out of his grip. The seriousness from his eyes moments ago is gone, they seem on edge. “I’m sorry. I was joking, sorry. I—I’ve missed you.”
“Trent—”
“No, I’ve really missed you. I would’ve told you sooner but I thought you moved on.” The confusion is etched on your face that he continues, scrambling for words. “I saw Jack’s arm around you at our first football match and I thought you had moved on, or were trying to, so I didn’t want to come back and tell you that I felt the same way.”
“What?” you exasperate.
He licks his lips, briefly looking down, “I like you too. I know you probably don’t feel the same way anymore because it was months ago and that’s okay, but since we’re talking now, yeah…I like you.”
Trent’s nervousness practically seeped out of his pores. His voice seemed so fragile, his hands anxiously playing with his pajama strings. And his eyes were anywhere but on you. He was pouring out his heart in the most shy way he could, his way.
Another reason that drove the two of you away was him always keeping in his feelings. Even when it was just about sex, he didn’t communicate well. So for him to talk right now, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him, heart swelling at him confessing his feelings.
But it had been months. Did you still feel the same for Trent? Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him, but you also hadn’t seen him that much so the distance mended your heart to some extent.
“Oh,” you say. “I really wish you said that earlier, wow, um—”
The more you search for words, the more you notice the sudden panic in Trent’s eyes grow.
“I don’t know if I feel the same,” you confess, pretending to ignore the droop of his shoulders. “We’ve been separated for so long that I don’t know if I still feel that…I’ve missed you too, a lot, so maybe I do. This sounds dumb but can you give me time?”
And who were you kidding? Because the moment he nods, you knew that you still had feelings for him. He was too patient for his own good.
“Of course,” he forces out a smile. You aren’t sure what to do at that moment so you hesitantly reach out for him and give him a hug. He tucks his head into the crook of your shoulder, pulling your body closer to his and then giving you a squeeze.
“Trent,” you squeal.
“Sorry,” he chuckles. “I’ve missed our hugs.”
“I missed them too.”
There's a brief moment the two of you share after you pull away from him. His hands are placed gently around your elbows, his head hanging down towards yours. Your nose bumps into his and he pulls away just barely and whispers, “Are you sure?”
You nod, “Yeah.” Trent places a chaste kiss on your lips, sighing through his nose like he’s granted some kind of relief.
His hands slip onto your waist, tugging you closer and you wrap your arms around his neck. He kisses your jaw and neck slowly, basking in the feel of your body pressed against him once again.
You aren’t shy to give his neck a kiss or two back, a rumbling laugh escaping his chest as you find his unusual tickle spot. His thumbs feel the sliver of skin where your shirt rode up, aimlessly rubbing circles, “We should head back.”
“We should,” you glance at him once more, planting a kiss on his cheek and then fumbling out of his bedroom. You can hear his laugh as you exit.
You sit back down next to Jude who still seems so engrossed into the movie, so he doesn’t bat an eye when Trent follows suit afterward. He fluffs the blanket over the two of you and keeps his hand lingering on your thigh. If you were stronger, you would’ve pushed it off, but you liked having his soothing touch on you again.
-
In the middle of the night, you stirred awake, shivering. The blanket you were wrapped in on the boy’s sofa wasn’t sufficient enough to keep you warm and you couldn’t bear another minute with your teeth chattering. Grumbling, you wrap the blanket around your body and tiptoe to Trent’s bedroom. He wouldn’t have minded, had basically whispered in your ear countless times to come sleep with him before you all went to bed.
As you open his bedroom door, you hear him shuffle around in his blankets, barely able to make out him rubbing his eyes while looking at you.
“I’m freezing,” you mutter, shutting his door. Trent understands immediately, doesn’t have to be told twice as he opens the blanket for you. It doesn’t take much for you to realize he’s shirtless, but you don’t care when you wrap your body around him and hold onto him like a koala.
“Your feet are cold,” he chuckles, his voice hoarse and throaty. “I missed you.”
“I know you did, now please finish tucking the blankets in and hold me.”
“Yes ma'am,” he mumbles. He makes sure you’re securely wrapped in the blanket and that there isn’t a pocket of space open somewhere. His arms slither around your back, and he presses a sleepy kiss to your forehead before shutting his eyes. “Night, sweetheart.”
“Goodnight, Trent.”
-
It takes you a couple of seconds to realize where you’re at in the morning, Trent’s white walls are a stark difference from your decorated covered walls. And his semi-hard dick pressed against your butt is certainly an unfamiliar feeling. Well, unfamiliar for only the past few months.
His hand is tucked tightly underneath your shirt, resting between the valley of your breasts. It was a position he resorted to all the time mid-sleep, and maybe you should’ve remembered that before crawling into his bed last night, but the shallow, labored breathing fanning across your neck lulled you back to sleep that your wind went fuzzy. All rational thoughts vanished.
Trent’s hips buckle up as he lets out a deep sigh, his dick only pressing further into you that you had to wake him up or separate. Gently, you slide his arm down, biting down your bottom lip as his hand brushes your nipple.
His eyes flutter open and he groans at the roll of your hips, “Stop moving.”
“You hurt,” you whisper.
“Yeah, you're hurting me,” he mumbles, pulling his hips back. He takes notice of his hand, sliding his hand out from underneath your shirt. “Fuck, sorry—”
“No, you’re hurting me, asshole,” you say at the same time. Trent’s cheeks are burning because he knows what position he was in, having always found himself in that same position every morning after being with you.
“I’m sorry,” he sits up, grumbling at the pain in his pants and embarrassment spreading to his face. He didn’t want to ruin the progress he had made, the two of you just sharing a kiss last night.
You sit up immediately with him, noticing the tension in his bare shoulders as he looks around his bedroom, debating his next move. You grasp his shoulder softly and he lets out a small gasp. “Hey, it’s okay. I was joking around. I’m not actually upset.”
Trent’s panicked eyes simmer down, “Okay.”
“Do you want to lay back down? It’s barely seven in the morning, I doubt the others are awake,” you continue, suddenly feeling nervous. You only started getting nervous in front of Trent after you caught feelings, before, you never had a problem poking jokes at him. You still had them, but they were much more tamed and timid.
He nods, letting out a shaky sigh as he gets back underneath the blankets. He crosses his arm, not daring to peer at you because he knows it wouldn’t help his ever growing erection. That burning hand you placed on his shoulders, sent him haywire for the thirty seconds it was on him.
And you hated the way you knew his body like the back of your hand. You knew how his long eyelashes would bat, his blown pupils, and why he bit onto his bottom lip almost drawing blood. The line of sweat that brimmed his forehead, his ragged breaths—god, you weren’t strong enough. It all went straight down to your core, making you squeeze your thighs a little tighter, and the second the bed dipped, Trent’s breath hitched.
“Do you,” you swallowed, “need help?”
Trent’s bare stomach caved in as he sighed, the bunched blanket barely stopping above the hemline of his pants. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he threw his crossed arms over his eyes, “Sweetheart, please don’t tease right now.”
What was once semi-hard was now raging and throbbing, way too rigid that even his breathing made him hurt. He felt your watchful eyes on him earlier, making him only grow harder as he tried to ignore it. Even if he were to scramble to his bathroom, it would hurt way too much that he would rather just sit and wait it out. But you were not making it easy, not when he could smell your shampoo still.
“I’m not teasing,” you say, voice a little louder laced with confidence.
Trent sucks his breath, “You’re cruel.”
You roll your eyes, “Do you want me to suck your dick or not?”
An eye peaks over his crossed arms, “Well when you put it like that—”
“And here I was trying to be nice and a little romantic.”
Trent chuckles as his arms flop down beside him, immediately grimacing as the force travels down, “Please just kiss me.”
He’s still facing the ceiling as he relinquished, eyes dancing around his bedroom and you. You stir beside him and he pouts. You snicker as you roll by his side, “So needy.” You press your lips on his pout and he’s immediately devouring you, slipping his tongue into your mouth as he grips your neck. Your hand barely had time to slide down the back of his neck. Meanwhile his other hand is gripping a fistful of your shirt.
You force your head back, out of breath, “Okay—”
Trent lets out another guttural groan, his eyes squeezing in frustration, “I’m really fucking hard right now, so if you’re playing around just tell me so I can blow this load myself.”
“I’m not playing around, you said to kiss you! I didn’t think fucking tongue!” you yell, almost wanting to laugh at your two’s situation. You were being a little slow on purpose but come on now, it was a little funny at just how much the tables were turned. On so many occasions, Trent decided to be a dickwad and tease the hell out of you, and you relished the few times you were able to tease him back.
His bottom lip jutted out again, almost by reflex, and the vein popping out of his forehead didn’t make your building laughter any more suppressed. His fisted grip on your shirt loosened as he stirred.
“Okay, okay, no foreplay,” you conclude, pecking his pouty lip and pulling down his blanket. His eyes bulge and he attempts to pick up his head but immediately slams it back down with an agonized groan.
Jesus.
You pull down his tented pajama pants to his ankles, not bothering to take them off completely, and then eye him through his black briefs. He was rock solid, a small, darker spot of precum encircling near his tip. And once you pull down his boxers, it springs out, hitting his stomach. The tip glistened with precum.
He lamented after he was finally out of those constricting boxers.
“Everyone is still sleeping out there,” you warn. He nods frantically, grabbing onto a piece of the blanket and biting onto it. His bedroom walls were thick but with the silence of the morning, noise was bound to travel.
You seriously wanted to tease him on just how desperate he was behaving right now, but you didn’t want to add more frustration than what he was already feeling.
With one stroke of Trent’s leaking arousal with your hand, it doesn’t take long for you to put him out of his misery with your mouth. His own precum lubricated much of himself that he didn’t need your spit, so you gingerly lick his tip as he lets out another groan as he grips the sheets.
Your tongue lapped around his tip as your hand stroked what couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel him practically swelling with each pump that it wasn’t going to take much longer to come.
His stomach caved in rapidly as you slowly sunk your head down on him. It had been a while and your teeth may have grazed him by accident as you adjusted to his size but he didn’t care. He was too much in a haze with the feel of your lips and tongue.
Once you found your rhythm, you bobbed your head faster, licking and sucking him off until tears welled in your eyes. His hands were immediately prying at your head and neck as his hips bucked, his tip nearly hitting the back of your throat.
“Fuck, I’m about—” Usually you’d back off and dump his seed onto his stomach but you decided not to this time, lapping up his shaft one more time before circling his tip with your tongue and then prodding the slit. He winced as his hand grew tighter around your shoulder, his other hand stifling the moan that threatened to come out.
Trent’s hips buckled once more and finally you felt the steamy ropes of his seed fall into and around your mouth, you were not fast enough to catch him entirely. Feeling his entire stomach grumble as he came, you caressed his thighs as you swallowed what you could. He handed you the small towel he had near his bed and you really would’ve cringed if the circumstances were different, but his room wasn’t necessarily tidy. There were a couple of shirts strewn on the floor and he did seem to have just recently washed towels since there was a pile of them on the floor next to his bed.
His breathing was heavy as he tried to calm himself down as you cleaned your chin and the remnants that dribbled down onto his stomach. And the second you pushed his briefs back on him, he sat up straight immediately, attacking your face with a hungry kiss. You giggled as you fell back, him landing on top with a chuckle as his hand gently slipped down your neck.
He pulled back, a wide grin on his face as his locs unstuck from his sweaty forehead, “I think I had blue balls.”
“You think? You came in like two seconds,” you laugh.
He shushes you, “Don’t say that so loud—”
“You were all whiny and couldn’t even get up!”
He rolls his eyes, his hair flopping with his exaggerated roll, “I knew you’d laugh.”
“I helped you, didn’t I?”
He rolls his eyes again, “Yeah, you did. Thank you, let me return the favor, yeah?”
“Hmmm,” you ponder. “Okay, go for it.”
He laughs, kissing you cheerfully. It doesn’t take long for you to be undressed and gripping onto his shoulders tightly with your thighs while his hand covers your mouth to stifle your moans.
-
Delilah taunts the group with her makeshift mistletoe, it hangs from the end of her long stick as she walks around. She had yet to stop on anyone—or pair rather—but you knew the moment you got up to get a drink from Trent she’d follow. And that’s exactly how you wound up in the position with everyone chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!”
Your face radiates with heat as Trent smirks. You hid your nervous smile with your cup as Jude’s chant got louder. They crowd the kitchen, not daring to let up as the two of you get circled.
Trent nudges your hip with his, removing the cup from your face as his hand goes to your cheek and jaw. His eyes read yours briefly before dipping his head into a searing kiss. It wasn’t necessarily brief but it wasn’t long either as they erupt into a chorus of hoots and shocked gasps. Once he pulls away, he lets you bury your head into his chest, hugging you. His chest vibrates with his chuckle.
Your hands went through his unzipped brown fluffy sweater, head resting alongside the white sweater he wore. He looked so soft and comfy in the outfit, you had been dying to just give him a giant hug the moment you saw him.
He kisses your forehead tenderly, “You okay?”
“Mmhmm,” you mumble, releasing him. His gentle and attentive eyes almost make your knees buckle, so you don’t notice everyone staring at the two of you because it felt like it was just you and him. You chuckle, “Surprise?”
Trent’s grip falls from your shoulder to your waist, a simpering smile as he pulls you closer to his side.
“I knew it!” Aaron yells and Trent shakes his head. “You’re such a liar.”
“What?” Trent feigns.
“I always said it looked like her car was out there and you always said that I was wrong,” Aaron says, taking a swig of his drink. Trent chuckles from behind you, throwing his arm across your shoulders as he forces you to fall back into his grasp.
Jude narrows his eyes, “Fairs.”
The girls direct their questions at you all at once but you don’t understand a thing. Trent kisses your forehead once more before letting go to let you have your space with the girls.
Ben whistles to get everyone’s attention for the Secret Santa exchange so the only question you get to answer is Sara’s: “How could you not tell us?” You sit next to the girls while Trent plops down on the couch next to Jude and Aaron.
One by one you all go in a circle exchanging gifts, you starting first with Delilah. You had gotten her the paint-by-numbers kit that she wanted the longest and pink slippers. Delilah gifts Aaron headphones; Aaron gifts Sara a new jewelry box that Ava helped pick out; Sara gifts Jude sunglasses; and Jude gifts Ben a new pair of Adidas boots and a box full of rubbers. Everyone laughs and momentarily gapes at this box full of condoms that Jude filled all the way to the top.
Ben then gets up and grabs his gift for Ava. Ava unwraps her highly anticipated book that she spammed the group chat with to get her, marveling at it. She then hurls Trent his gift and he chuckles at the new sweater he now has. It’s a long white knitted sweater that he’d probably look adorable in and you can’t help but to beam at him from across the room. The Christmas tree’s lights produce a glimmer in his eyes that makes you swoon when he locks eyes with you.
You didn’t even notice that you were the last one to yet receive your gift from…Trent. It doesn’t take long for you to realize he’s all who’s left, but the thought of who had you escaped your mind because you were too busy fawning over everyone else’s gifts.
Trent saunters towards you, a neatly wrapped white box with a red ribbon tied in the center. He sits down onto the side of the couch and hovers over you. His warmth radiates onto you that the urge to take him back into his room to cuddle him is so strong, but the others were staring as they waited for you to open the box.
You tear off the wrapping paper and open the box, inside is a neatly folded pink hoodie. Just from the sheer size of it you can tell it’s thick and cozy.
“I know how you always get cold,” he whispers.
You smile brightly, cheeks feeling warm as you pull it out. Underneath it is fuzzy red socks and you gasp, “This is so cute, thank you!”
For whatever reason, as you look up at him your eyes are nearly filled with tears that you have to blink them away rapidly. He chuckles, bending down to kiss your smile. Needless to say, you had made up your mind. This man held your heart in the palm of his hands.
Meanwhile, Ben stuffs a handful of rubbers into Trent’s palm and he laughs as he drops them into your box.
“Way to be romantic,” you scold, peering up at him.
Trent bends down to be level with your ear, “Saying that when you had my dick in your mouth hours ago.”
You slap his jean-clad thigh, “Trent!”
He may have looked like a sweet cuddly bear in his outfit but he was anything but, especially when the night was still young.
----
Note: OKAY I promise I will steer away from friend groups in my next fic LOL.
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