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#this month I really really need to step it up!!!
beloved-nyx · 2 days
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𝐓𝐇𝐄 “𝐁” 𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐒 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐎𝐃 !
ᝰ.ᐟ Why does it feel like someone’s following your every move?
જ⁀➴ STARRING: 𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑 (𝐂𝐀𝐄𝐋𝐀𝐍) 𝐱 𝐆𝐍 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐑
જ⁀➴ CONTENT: stalking, suggestive, reader is in college, reader is insecure, nothing to bad ??, not proofread (we die like kings), soft yandere (?), nothing graphic, mentions of jealousy and clinginess
જ⁀➴ FORMAT: 1.3k words, full fic
જ⁀➴ AUTHORS NOTE: This is my third time writing yandere ahhh! Anyway, it's been so long since I wrote something!! Um enjoy <33 also damn...reader really going through it.
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“There,” You mutter under your breath. “Finished.”
You balance precariously on a wobbly stool, hands parting from a sleek, black camera. A security camera, to be precise. 
You would have never thought of putting a camera in your apartment, not because you were naively dumb, but because you had thought you lived in the safer part of the city. Friendly neighbors always alerted you when suspicious people even lingered next to your doorstep, but also because you were broke. Broke, broke, broke. 
Your rent was taking up more of your money than your groceries were. It had taken weeks of splurging on food to even be able to afford a security camera, much to your disdain. You were living on leftovers, and you were getting sick of week-old Chinese takeout. 
Stepping off the stool, you admire your handiwork, cringing at how gaudy it looked in your minimalistic (or in much harsher words, bare) apartment room. 
Your phone dings softly, and as you pick it up, you grin at the name displayed on your notifications. Caelan. 
Caelan is your crush. Your cheeks seem to grow hotter at even admitting it in your thoughts. You felt like some highschool kid, even using the word “crush.” But Caelan did that to you, you guess. Make you feel childish and absolutely hopeless, and sometimes you wish he knew that. But then again, if he did, you would probably self-destruct on the spot. You were fine with admiring Caelan from afar. 
Heard what happened U ok?
Ahh. That. 
The very reason you put that gaudy camera in your apartment in your first place. 
It had been a month ago, when you first saw the signs of someone breaking into your house. You were doing laundry, a perfectly normal thing to do on a Friday night while your friends were getting drunk and partying at a local club. Some of your underwear was missing, but you had chalked it up to your own clumsiness.
But then you saw the note, and everything changed. Written sloppily, penmanship atrocious. You had thought that the person was just bad at writing-but in hindsight, he must have used his less dominant hand to write it. Biting your cheek, you read it, and you wished you hadn’t. 
It was the most perverse, disgusting thing you had ever read. That night, you couldn’t even sleep, scared that the unknown intruder-stalker would come.
The next day, the stalker sent you pictures of you doing the most mundane things. Sleeping, eating, studying, doing laundry, and even changing.
You immediately called the police on the next day, when a bouquet of roses showed up on your doorstep. The police had said, “We’ll look into it.” 
They never did. 
It led you to ask for help from a friend, and you instantly regretted it. Because the next day, the whole campus learned of your supposed stalker. And even though their sympathetic, “You okay?” made you feel a little bit more safer, a little more secure in your tiny world, it still made you embarrassed, scared too. 
You type in a quick, I'm fine! And then wonder if you should put an emoji after that. After spending an embarrassingly long minute of deciding if you should, you just send it with no emoji. 
That’s good.  If you need anything just call me.
A few days pass by, and still no stalker appears on the camera footage. At first, you’re elated. But then another few days pass, and you feel silly. Maybe there was no stalker, maybe you were being overdramatic-but even then, those pictures? The note? You shiver. You hear a knock on the door, and turn to the noise, a small hum escaping your lips.
Must be the delivery man. You had ordered some new textbooks for college. You walk towards the door, and twist the knob. 
Caelan smiles, pale fingers holding a bouquet of roses. He wears a black turtleneck, gray pants and a black dress coat. You, on the other hand, were wearing your pajamas. 
If you could melt in a puddle, you would have. You wished you were buried in a pit. You wanted to be flung into space. Your cheeks were burning hot. You must look like a mess. Is it too late to be flung into space? 
“C-Caelan. What brings you…uh, here?” You cringe at your words. 
“For you, of course.” He laughs, taking a rose from the bouquet and putting it behind your ear. “I just wanted to check up on you. I hope I wasn’t intruding on anything, like your beauty sleep,” He muses, eyes wandering towards your pajamas. 
You never wanted to turn into a puddle so badly. 
“Hah-no, I just woke up!” You lie, ignoring the way he cocks his head to the side skeptically. Ignoring the fact that it's three p.m. 
“You should’ve called…I would’ve,” You gesture towards your clothes, “y’know, prepared.” 
“Oh shit!” His eyebrows furrow, a hand yanking at a loose black strand of hair that escaped his braid. “I’m sorry, I was just so worried–”
“No, no it’s fine!” You hate the way you sound-so, so desperate. “Um, do you want to come inside? I’ll go change and then we can talk.” 
You lead him inside, ignoring the fact of how oddly happy he is to be inside your home. 
After Caelan and you became official, he started to change. Slowly, like how a caterpillar becomes a butterfly. 
He became more clingy, and at first you thought it cute. You loved the way he doted on you, liked how he curled up into you in the mornings when he stayed at your home (more often than not) and begged you to stay in bed for just a few minutes. 
But he also became more jealous. Whenever you were next to someone, he always hovered close by, a suffocating presence that almost drowned you. Always insisted on going wherever you went. 
You sit on the couch, nestled closely next to Caelan. He hums softly, hands nestled under your shirt as you watch some shitty rom-com. A masterpiece. You called it. Caelan had raised a brow at that, but didn’t say anything except for a snort. You had elbowed him in the stomach after he jokingly (?) insulted one of your favorite moments. 
“‘m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, hands retracting from your body and making you feel cold. You whine at the sudden coldness, complaining about how you might die of hypothermia if he doesn’t come back soon. He scoffs at that, planting a kiss on your temple as he walks into the kitchen. 
And leaves his phone. 
You pick it up, grinning. Your intent was clear. Take a silly photo of yourself and make it his wallpaper. A perfect, opportune moment. 
You open the camera app, successfully taking a horridly candid shot of yourself, before curiosity takes a hold of you. You open the photo app, scrolling through his photos. Most of it was just pictures of landscapes, before you stop. 
A picture of you sleeping, drool leaking from your mouth. 
You stop, before groaning. Did you really look like that when you slept? You scrolled some more, before stopping again. Blood running cold. 
Was that a picture of you changing?
You frantically scroll through more photos, and with horror realize that most resemble the photos that your stalker took. You would never forget how disgusting you felt, at how you felt like your privacy had been breached. 
You choke down a scream, eyes wide and hands shaking. 
And then you feel something-a hand, on your shoulder. Tight enough to bruise, and tight enough to secure you in place. 
“Oh.” A single word escapes Caelan’s lips, and you turn. You can see your own, frantic expression in his black eyes. Black eyes that you thought were beautiful. 
“So you saw them, hmm.” It wasn’t stated as a question. No, it was a statement. A fact, indisputable. The most horrible part was that he wasn’t even trying to deny them. 
“Well, isn’t this cute?”
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©beloved-nyx. do not repost, plagiarize, translate, or adapt my work/theme without prior permission and or confirmation.
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may I request a really really really smart villain. but somehow the hero manages to outsmart them, and even though villain is completely dumbfounded, they find it incredibly hot???
gl, if you wish, but im fine with anything !!
“You’re scared,” the villain whispered. “I know what that feels like. I know what it can do to a person.”
Their fingertips traced the hero’s clavicle gently, as if they attempted to calm a startled deer by stoking it.
“It’s not a pleasant emotion. It certainly isn’t one anyone should be used to. So I’m curious, do you need my help?” the villain said. Their eyes scanned the hero curiously. Almost as if they could absorb everything about them just by looking at them.
Something about the hero seemed to pull them in, something seemed to fascinate them on a grand scale and the hero couldn’t tell if they loved the challenge or the attention.
“Would you mind?” the hero asked. They nodded towards the villain’s fingers on their body and clearly, the villain received their message. They pulled away and smiled. Curiosity seemed to be their big weakness.
“I apologise, of course. I’m fond of pretty things.”
“As every crow is.”
“That’s a compliment.” The hero didn’t answer. They knew the villain was toying with them; they were fully aware of their sweet words and their kind smile.
The villain wasn’t easy to understand and that was a big problem in this whole mess. Incompetent people proposed a threat to the city because of their lack of intelligence. They weren’t easy to understand, they were unpredictable.
Usually, the hero could argue with smart people, could get into their minds and understand their motives but the villain was a complete minefield. Their unpredictability came from several unrelated plans that intertwined and altogether made up a whole picture.
They were ten steps ahead. Always.
Suddenly, a missing professor, a burning bakery, a sick child and a stolen book were parts of a chain that would make sense to the hero much, much later. Ordinary things could play huge parts in these reaction chains, something they liked to call “controlled butterfly effect”. It made the hero think of all the details, all the little crimes in the city. It made them overanalyse every little conversation they had with the villain.
Was the villain giving them clues?
Was there a way to decipher these riddles?
How could anyone be at ten different places at the same time?
How was it possible to get information you’d have to torture out of people without actually talking to anyone at all?
“I’ll have to change my address for the third time this month,” the hero said. “You should apologise for that as well.”
“It’s not my fault you make it so easy for me.” The villain looked around the hero’s living room and in some weird and strange way, the hero felt superior to them, now that everything was done. It would’ve been foolish to say they were relieved. In fact, the villain was right. They were terrified. “New choice of plants, I see. You like orchids?”
“Why exactly are you here?” the hero asked. They assumed the villain knew about yesterday. They also assumed the villain was here to talk about that. “So you can make fun of me? Humiliate me in my own home?”
“Without an audience? Please, I thought you knew me.” The villain’s eyes found the hero’s again after what they deemed to be enough observation.
“You like it more intimate. You like it when it’s just us.” Now, the villain looked intrigued.
“Touché,” they said, almost as if the hero had defeated them with a single word. The hero wished it had been that easy.
“Again. Why are you here?” The hero crossed their arms in front of their chest. It was getting quite chilly in just a shirt and underwear.
In response, the villain took in a deep breath and sat down on the hero’s couch. They lounged.
“When Hannibal crossed the Alps, do you think he was scared? I mean, all that responsibility on his shoulders? It was dangerous, he could’ve lost his entire army.”
“Is this supposed to be some metaphor for me being Hannibal and you being…what? The Roman Republic?” the hero asked. Sometimes, it was laughable where the villain’s mind went. It was hard enough to keep up with them already but the amount of knowledge the hero acquired from talking to them alone was insane.
It was the type of learning experience that required failing repeatedly to get to the answer. The hero didn’t enjoy it.
But the villain only chuckled.
“I was trying to say that being determined and scared can coexist. You did something that demands great courage.” They tilted their head. “And yet, it is a very scary thing.”
With slow steps, the hero approached them until they were close enough. They sat down on the villain’s lap. Unsurprisingly, their nemesis didn’t protest.
They weren’t proud of what had happened, they weren’t proud of what they’d done.
“How can a person obtain information no one dares to whisper?” the hero asked. “How can that person receive it within seconds?”
“You tell me,” the villain said. An invitation. It would’ve been illogical to decline.
“You had two helpers. Someone who can teleport. Someone who can turn invisible. I don’t know how you convinced them but they were heroes once.”
The villain nodded.
“The Romans had to learn the hard way how important spies are. They learnt it from the Carthaginian. Like I learnt from you years ago,” the villain said. It was difficult to imagine that all this was the hero’s fault. “Now, tell me what you did when you found out.”
The hero was quiet until the villain’s palm brushed their thigh softly. The villain seemed unfittingly euphoric.
“I knew they wouldn’t be easy to keep in a cell.”
“So?”
“So I killed them.” The villain nodded.
“You killed them,” the villain agreed. “Did you know crows wait for other predators to tear open their prey?”
The hero waited. The villain wasn’t angry. They were fascinated. It hadn’t even occurred to the hero that this was the solution up until yesterday.
And still, even though this was a major success when it came to stopping the villain, it wasn’t satisfactory. Killing two of their own people hadn’t been pretty.
“Did you know curiosity killed the cat?” the hero asked back. Behind their back, they clenched their fist to stop their hand from shaking.
Within seconds, several red laser dots pointed at the villain. With the hero on their lap, pressing them into the couch, there wasn’t anywhere to go. The sharpshooters wouldn’t let the villain move a muscle.
And behind the shocked expression, the hero saw something they weren’t sure if they loathed or liked: a certain admiration for only them.
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literaila · 2 days
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do you ever think reader would storm out of the house after a fight between her & satoru? (referring to ur keeping secrets fic.) i feel like part of her wouldn’t bc she’s also thinking about the kids and she just can’t leave them, but she also seems a lot more grounded than satoru in general. i think the other part of her would also need a minute to step out for a bit bc i just know satoru drives her to insanity. i don’t knoww, satoru’s reaction to her storming out just infects my brain, but i know she couldn’t do that to megumi and tsumiki </3 i’m such a sucker for your hurt/comfort fics
“where are you going?”
“not sure,” satoru says, barely mumbling. “i didn’t ask.”
“you didn’t ask?”
he looks at you, just a glimmer of teasing in his eyes. but the rest of him is apprehensive—he knows what you’re thinking.
he always does.
but he looks back down, shoving shirts into a suitcase in the worst possible way.
“does it matter?” he asks, dryly. “it’s just another work trip.”
“how long are you going to be gone?”
“however long it takes to—“
“can i come with you?”
satoru pauses, and his eyes trail to you.
to you, where you’re standing in the doorway. you only know he’s leaving because of the suitcase, you only know that you can’t deal with him being gone again because of that feeling.
it’s reminiscent of packing your own bag at fifteen. of never returning home.
“you want to come?” satoru’s voice is too smooth, too unserious. “you hate planes. and what about work? you want to take your students too?”
“how long are you going to be gone?”
satoru sighs. he finally relents, walking over to you. his smile is a little irritated, tired. “it won’t take long,” he says, rubbing your shoulders. “you’ll get the bed all to yourself.”
“this is the fourth trip in the last three months.”
he tilts his head. “it’s the same amount as always.”
“it’s—“ you stop.
it’s different.
and your heart is racing, because you’re used to this feeling.
really, satoru has taken regular work trips for as long as you’ve known him. his passport is well used, his suitcase replaced almost once a year.
but it’s different.
because it used to be you, satoru, and the kids. it used to be you and the kids waiting at the door, talking about him behind his back, going to the airport to pick him up.
and even if you missed him, you knew that tsumiki missed him just as much. you knew that megumi was waiting for him to come back just the same—getting restless without someone there to mess with constantly.
it used to be you and the kids, when satoru was gone.
but now…
megumi is at school all week—and even when he comes home, it’s only to keep you happy. so that he can take a break from jujutsu, and sleeping in a dorm right next to yuji’s.
and tsumiki—
you stop thinking about that almost immediately.
it’s just not worth it.
when satoru leaves, you’re all alone.
“i wish you could come. you know how the higher ups are about—“
“why don’t you tell them no?”
satoru is wearing his blindfold, so you can’t see his eyes. but you see it as he leans back, looking at you curiously. “what?”
“tell them no. they’re scared of you, aren’t they? they’re not going to make you—“
“what other special grade sorcerer are they going to send?” he asks, shaking his head. “i hate them too, but if they need me—“
“i need you.”
satoru stops. you want to see his eyes—you want him to stay here.
you don’t want to walk around the house and chat with ghosts. you don’t want to be the only one left behind—the only one who has nothing else.
what about you? what’s supposed to happen to you when satoru leaves you behind?
he’s done it before, and he’ll do it again.
“what?”
“i don’t understand why you have to go,” you say, and you’re angry now. “i’m tired of your work trips, and i hate that you don’t even care, and i hate being in the house all alone—“
“what? what do you mean i don’t care?”
you pull away from him. just to do it first. “you don’t even try to get someone else to do it, you just leave—“
“why are you blaming me? i didn’t ask for this.”
“because you’re always gone! and i’m always alone, and you haven’t even asked me how i feel about it—“
“it’s not like i enjoy doing it,” he says, frowning. “i don’t like leaving you or the kids, it’s just work—“
“i think you do enjoy it,” you spit. and you know that you shouldn’t but, “you like being the only one that they can call. being the strongest. that’s why you haven’t told them no, that’s why—“
“what?”
“is it fun to leave the house? to escape for a week or two while i’m here to take care of everything?”
satoru scoffs. “are you kidding?”
“what? you can admit it. go on and leave. you’ve done it before, satoru.”
his jaw clenches. “if you don’t like being here,” he says, so soft—but you can feel it. the impending blow. “then go somewhere else.”
immediately, your body flinches back. you fall inwards, wanting nothing more than to fall back against him.
but it’s too late.
“i can’t help that im the strongest, i don’t enjoy leaving you—but ill do it because it’s my job. if you hate being alone, then find something else. go see megumi, or nanami, or—“
you take a step back, almost stumbling into the wall.
“you’re putting words in my mouth and i—“
but you don’t hear the rest of that sentence.
and maybe this is your fault. you shouldn’t have picked a fight, you shouldn’t have even said anything.
satoru isn’t to blame for your loneliness. he isn’t to blame for anything.
you turn around. and you walk out the door with shaking hands.
go somewhere else, he said.
and you will.
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My Venus - Lewis Hamilton (NSFW)
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A MET Gala Special
pairing: Lewis Hamilton x Famous!Reader
warnings: fashion world, sexual activities, (p in v), oral sex
Wrap it before you tap it!!!
wordcount: +3K
a/n: I know it's impossible for anyone to wear the original Venus Dior dress, it's a museum piece and it has been for decades, but it's a fic (and my favorite dress, ever) so let's go with it. Y/n is obviously someone really known in the fashion industry, but I didn't specify how, so it's totally up to you to create a back story.
a/n 2: Kind of a request. I was planning something already but anon gave me amazing ideas, thank horny anon!! Also, smut with a plot, what a shocker for me!!
As always, I'm open for feedback, come say hi!
EXPLICIT CONTENT UNDER, -18 DO NOT INTERACT.
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Y/n toyed with a stray piece of croissant, her gaze flitting from the cityscape outside to Lewis, who was deep in conversation with his stylist.
Sunlight streamed through the expansive windows on the opulent The Mark Hotel’s suite, a golden glow on the remnants of their breakfast. Crumbs danced on the crisp white tablecloth, a playful counterpoint to the elegant silver service glinting in the corner.
Eric, a man perpetually poised on the precipice of tranquility, leaned forward trying the nonchalantly posture as his eyes danced with curiosity. "Come on, Y/n, spill the beans! We’re all vibrating with suppressed curiosity."
Lewis, in is crisp white tee and black joggers, shot Eric a playful glare. "Thanks for that, mate. Subtlety is your strong suit, clearly." He turned to Y/n, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Seriously, love. The MET is in a few hours, you can tell us."
Y/n, who had mastered her poker face over the last five months of keeping that secret, took a delicate sip of her orange juice. "Let's just say," she drawled, her voice smooth as silk, "it has a very famous sister."
Eric groaned dramatically, throwing his hands up in mock defeat. "Oh, delightful. Lewis, bro, you're on your own with this one."
Lewis chuckled, shaking his head fondly. "You're a menace, Y/n." He winked, a shiver running down her spine despite the playful nature of the exchange. But the silence that followed held a different energy, charged with unspoken anticipation.
Lewis leaned closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "It’s something that is going to steal everyone breath away, so maybe it needs a security detail of its own?"
Y/n couldn't help but let a sly smile curve her lips. "Maybe." she teased, leaning in even closer. The scent of his signature cologne, a heady mix of wood and spice, filled her senses. "Maybe it'll have everyone whispering about who dared to wear such a legend."
A low rumble escaped Lewis' chest, a sound that sent a jolt of excitement through her. " An archive, huh?! " He said, his voice husky
Just then, Eric cleared his throat pointedly. "Right, right, all very hush-hush. But remember, Lewis, you have your Burberry fitting this afternoon. We can't have you looking too shabby next to your mystery woman in archives."
Y/n laughed, a light, tinkling sound that filled the room. "Oh, I'm sure Lewis will manage to steal the spotlight anyway."
Lewis winked again, his gaze lingering on her lips. "A competition, isn't it, love?"
Their playful sparring continued through the rest of the lunch, a delicious undercurrent of unspoken attraction running through their every word and glance. As they finished their coffee, the tension in the air thickened, a silent question hanging between them. It was time to leave, to face the world – and the MET Gala – separately.
But Lewis wouldn't let her go without a final flourish. He stood, his gaze holding hers, and offered a hand with a courtly bow. "Until tonight, my fashionista. May the best dresser win."
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The air crackled with anticipation as Y/n stepped out of the limousine, a vision as the cameras flashed like a sudden storm, capturing the first glimpse of her enigmatic beauty. A collective gasp rippled through the crowd, a palpable wave of awe and recognition as Y/n slowly revealed the legendary Venus dress.
Time seemed to slow. Each step on the red carpet was a carefully choreographed performance, the weight of fashion history settling on her body like a luxurious cloak.
The gown, a masterpiece of delicate embroidery, whispered tales of a bygone era, its every fold a testament to the genius of Christian Dior himself. It clung to her like it had been designed for her. A silent promise of a woman both powerful and breathtakingly beautiful.
Y/n held her head high, a serene and honest smile playing on her lips. Yet, beneath the calm exterior, a thrill coursed through her veins. This wasn't just another red carpet.
Lewis, waiting further down the carpet, watched his breath hitch as she came into view. Initially stunned speechless, his jaw dropped in a way that sent the internet into a frenzy.
Here was the woman he knew, the one who matched his every playful jab with witty retorts, transformed into a goddess. He felt a surge of pride, a possessiveness that went beyond what he had felt before with people looking at her.
This was Y/n, his Y/n, stealing the spotlight of the most known fashion event with an audacity as breathtaking as the gown itself.
It was a declaration, a playful rebellion against expectations, most of them that she had created for herself, as she had stablished her style as the non conformative. Still, in The Garden of Time that was the MET, she was bringing one the most known and iconic flowers back to life.
Microphones were being thrusted in her face, a flurry of questions buzzed around her like excited bees, photographers going maniac at the sight of a dress that had been at an exposition for decades months prior being worn.
"Y/n, this is absolutely iconic! How did you manage to borrow this historical piece?" a seasoned entertainment reporter gushed.
Y/n, ever the diplomat, offered a practiced smile. "Let's just say it took a lot of convincing," she replied, the truth a delightful secret she'd keep to herself. "But I believe it was worth the effort."
"Do you feel any pressure wearing such a significant piece of fashion history?" another reporter chimed in.
An understanding glint sparked in Y/n's eyes. "It's a tremendous honour. But pressure is a luxury I don't have time for tonight. It's all about celebrating art, fashion and Christian Dior himself.” Her wit drew laughter and appreciative nods from the crowd, creating a true vision of a woman stunning and intelligent, truly worthy of the Venus.
As Lewis answered his own fielding questions about his Burberry ensemble, he couldn't help but steal glances at her. Her confidence radiated outwards, a magnetic force that drew everyone's attention. He felt a flicker of pride, ever so slightly tinged with a possessiveness that made him want to shout to the world, 'This is my woman.'
"Lewis," a young reporter, eyes wide with admiration, interjected, "What are your thoughts on Y/n's stunning outfit?"
Lewis, ever the charmer, took a playful dig. "Well, let's just say" he drawled, mirroring her earlier cryptic response, "It was worthy of the months of secrecy. She awed everyone as much as she awes me."
As Y/n went up the stairs she found Lewis at the entrance waiting for her, his eyes boring wholes onto her skin. Lewis leaned close, a hand reaching for hers as his voice a huskily murmured "You're incredible, Y/n," his eyes lingering on her "Absolutely breathtaking, love."
Y/n, feeling the warmth of his gaze on her exposed skin, a secret smile played on her lips. There was a thrill in knowing she had surprised him, in seeing the awe and possessiveness flicker in his eyes.
"You know …” she teased, resting her hands on his shoulders as he reached for her waist, a sequence of flashes going off as they showed affection "This was all about making a statement”.
The throng of bodies inside the museum buzzed with an electric energy. As they navigated the crowded halls, Y/n couldn't help but notice the way heads turned their way. Whispers and glances followed them like a second skin.
Lewis, sensing her amusement, leaned in with a smirk. "Enjoying the attention, love?" he teased, his eyes twinkling with mischief.
"Oh, absolutely," Y/n deadpanned, batting her eyelashes playfully. "It's not every day I get to feel like a museum exhibit myself."
Lewis chuckled, a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine. "Well, you are a work of art yourself. But you’re also wearing one."
Suddenly, a whirlwind of hair materialized beside them. Zendaya, ever the fashion icon, flashed a dazzling smile. "Y/n, girl! That dress. How?!”
Before Y/n could reply, Zendaya dragged her towards the main exhibition, where Venus’ sister dress – Junon – was center piece, photographers already positioned for the Dior reunion.
Lewis, hovered nearby, a playful smile on his face. Even with the constant interruptions, his gaze never strayed far from Y/n.
As she managed to escape the scene, Y/n couldn't help but notice Lewis's gaze burning into her. "You know," she said, meeting his stare with a smirk, "I can actually feel your eyes searing holes in my dress, Lewis."
He chuckled, leaning closer. "Can't blame a guy for appreciating a masterpiece, can you?" he countered, his voice a husky murmur.
Just as Y/n leaned in to retort, a gaggle of socialites descended upon them. Throughout the pleasantries, Y/n couldn't ignore the heated glances Lewis kept throwing her way. His gaze lingered on the exposed skin of her shoulders, and a playful glint in his eyes hinted at something more than mere admiration.
Finally, as the speeches began and everyone went to their seats, Lewis leaned in close, pulling her towards his side, his voice a husky whisper in her ear. "They can all look, love." his eyes holding hers. "But you're mine."
The speeches droned on, a monotonous hum that Y/n barely registered. Her focus was solely on Lewis, his hand possessively resting on her hand on her lap. The warmth of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her, a stark contrast to the cool of the dress against her skin.
As the formalities dragged on, the air crackled with unspoken desire. Every brush of their bodies, every stolen glance, fueled a fire that threatened to consume them.
"This is torture," he breathed, his breath tickling a sensitive spot on her neck. "All I want is..." he trailed off, his eyes dropping suggestively to the exposed skin of her chest.
Y/n raised an eyebrown, a delicious mix of excitement and apprehension in her body language. "Finish that sentence, Lewis" she purred, her voice barely a whisper.
“You, alone." he finished, his voice rough with desire. "Somewhere I don’t need to share."
His hand moved up to her shoulders. His fingers finally grazing the edge of the dress, a silent question hanging in the air. Y/n, emboldened by the setting and the audacity of the dress itself, met his gaze with a playful smile.
"There might be a deserted exhibit around the corner," she said, her voice barely above a breath. "One filled with creatures long extinct."
A wicked grin spread across Lewis's face. "Hm…" he murmured, his eyes gleaming with a dangerous glint. Every glance from him felt like a branding iron, searing the memory of him onto her skin.
When the event finally came to its end, they navigated the crowd, Lewis's possessiveness evident in the way he kept guiding her by the small of her back, a silent declaration. Every so often, his eyes would flick to the exposed skin of her shoulders.
They managed to get by the crowds unusually quickly, ushered greetings and nods a clear sign everyone wanted out. But, as they approached the exit, a familiar face beamed at them. Stella McCartney, a vision of elegance in her silver dress, rushed forward to greet Y/n.
"Y/n, you look absolutely phenomenal!" Stella exclaimed, throwing her arms around Y/n in a warm embrace. "That dress! It's absolutely breathtaking."
Y/n put out a smile. "Thank you, Stella. It was an honor to wear such a piece of history." While Stella gushed about the intricacies of the dress, Lewis tried to exchange a knowing look with Y/n.
The unspoken desire simmering between them was palpable, an energy that crackled in the space between them. Just then, a low chuckle caught Y/n's ear. Gayle King, stood nearby, her eyes twinkling with amusement.
"Lewis" she started, her voice smooth as silk, "I haven't seen you this speechless in years. Y/n, you've absolutely stolen the show."
Lewis, ever the charmer, offered her a playful smile. " You know Y/n, she has a knack for making an entrance."
Gayle, unfazed by his attempt at deflection, turned to Y/n, her gaze sharp and knowing. "You two," she said, linking her arm in Y/n's, "must tell me all about this later. That dress…and the look on Lewis's face… well, that was priceless”
Y/n, her cheeks burning, couldn't help but steal a glance at Lewis. His gaze met hers, a silent conversation passing between them. They both knew Gayle was right, and that everyone had probably also seen his gaze.
As they reached the exit, Gayle pulled Y/n to the side, their voices dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Keep doing whatever you're doing, Y/n" Gayle said, a mischievous glint in her eyes, leaning in even closer "That boy is absolutely smitten.”
Y/n couldn't help but let out a soft laugh "Thanks, Gayle" she whispered back. With a final hug, Gayle retreated to her own car, leaving Y/n and Lewis to get into theirs. The tension between them thick, a charged silence that spoke volumes as Lewis held open the car door for her.
He slid into the car beside her, wasting no time in letting his hand roam up under the dress, reaching her thighs in no time. A devilish grin spreading across his face, leaned in close. "She's right, love" he murmured, his voice husky. "You've got me completely wrapped around your fingers."
The heat of his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her. He caressed the soft skin, his fingers brushing tantalizingly close to her hips. Y/n, unable to contain a shiver, bit her lip. "Lew" she breathed, her voice laced with a playful warning. "Careful now. We're not exactly alone."
He chuckled but continued his exploration, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin just above the hem of her dress. The driver, through the rearview mirror, couldn't help but steal a glance. Y/n, catching a glimpse of his reflection, couldn't help but feel a thrill of exhibitionism mixed with a playful desire to tease Lewis further.
As Lewis's hand continued its ascent, his fingers brushed against a smooth, unexpected surface. He paused, his brow furrowing in confusion. A beat of silence hung in the air before it dawned on him. No underwear.
"Couldn't risk an underwear line ruining this moment" her voice laced with a playful challenge. The audacity of her statement, coupled with the realization, made his breath hitch in his throat, raw desire clouding his eyes.
He pulled his hand back abruptly, a silent promise hanging in the air. The confined space crackling with unspoken desire.
As Y/n stole a glance at him, her heart pounded in her chest. He was trying to control himself, a clear struggle evident in the way he held his breath and clenched his jaw. The bulge in his trousers, who had been previously concealed by his trench coat, was now a very visible sign to his arousal.
"Not long until we get back, Love" Lewis finally managed, his voice husky with frustration. He leaned back in his seat, running a hand through his braids in a frustrated gesture. Y/n, a satisfied smile playing on her lips, let out a low chuckle.
Relief washed over both of them as they pulled into the hotel. A small army materialized around them. Her team, ever-efficient, whisked them towards her suite, their focus solely on getting her out of the Venus dress.
Throughout the undressing, Lewis hovered on the periphery, his eyes laser-focused on Y/n. He watched with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine. Every so often, he would discreetly lick his lips, a gesture that spoke volumes of his pent-up desire.
The process was a delicate ballet – a team of stylists unhooking intricate clasps, another carefully lowering the billowing skirt. Finally, wrapped in a plush towel, Y/n stood alone with Lewis, her team discreetly melting away, a knowing smile playing on their lips.
Lewis crossed the room in two long strides, the heat of anticipation crackling in the air between them. His hand reached out, almost hesitantly, to brush a strand of her now loosened hair. The touch, seemingly casual, sent a jolt of electricity through her, igniting a fire that had been smoldering all evening.
"There you are," he murmured, his voice husky with desire. "Beautiful, captivating, and all mine. Only mine."
His words hung in the air like a promise, the most possessive claim she had ever heard from him. They resonated deep within her, stirring something primal. As her heart pounded in her chest, she couldn’t help but lean into his touch, seeking solace and desire in his embrace.
"All yours," she whispered, her voice thick with longing. Their lips met in a searing kiss, a collision of pent-up desire and raw emotion. In that moment, the playful banter of the night melted away, replaced by a raw hunger that neither could – or wanted – to deny.
Each second ticked by like a whisper of urgency. They had only about twenty minutes before they were due to leave for the after-party. With practiced efficiency born of desire, she threw the towel onto the bed, leaving herself bare before him, a silent invitation hanging in the air.
Lewis's eyes roamed over her, a smirk playing on his lips as she reached down to undress him from his pants. "Don't have time for that, love," he murmured, his hands stopping hers with a swift motion.
With a sudden shift of momentum, he flipped her, his hands tracing over her tummy as he left a trail of kisses along her shoulder. Each kiss sent a shiver of anticipation coursing through her, her breath hitching with every touch of his lips against her skin.
His hands ventured lower with each kiss, until they reached her folds, his touch igniting a primal hunger within her. A low growl escaped his lips as his fingers delved into her depths, drawing out her arousal with a skillful touch that left her trembling with desire.
Feeling the urgency of their fleeting moments, she flipped around, dropping to her knees to palm him through his boxers. The outline of his thick arousal was already prominent, and she freed it eagerly, the velvet hardness filling her hands. With practiced skill, she teased him, eliciting a delicious hiss of pleasure as she took him into her mouth, savoring the taste of him.
But time was slipping away and they both knew it. Five minutes had already slipped by, according to the bedside clock. His hands gripped her chin, pulling her up "I promise later we can take our time, but I need your pussy right now," he breathed, urgency lacing his words with a desperate plea.
With a hungry nod, she positioned herself, elbows resting on the armchair, presenting herself to him with a silent invitation. The tip of his arousal teased her entrance, collecting her slickness before he plunged into her with a single, deep thrust. A sharp cry escaped her lips as he bottomed out, his hands soothing the skin of her hips as he waited for her signal to move.
"Lew" she moaned, her voice a desperate plea for release. His fingers circled her clit, igniting a fire within her as he began to move, each thrust driving her closer to the edge of oblivion.
It didn't take long before she was panting, her body trembling with the force of her climax. Lewis held her close, whispering words of encouragement as she rode the wave of ecstasy, her senses overwhelmed by the intensity of their shared passion.
As she steadied herself, he resumed his frenzied thrusts, his movements becoming more urgent as he neared his own release. With a final, deep thrust, he spilled himself inside her, holding her tightly as their bodies trembled with shared pleasure, the world fading away into a haze of ecstasy.
When he pulled out, she turned into his embrace, cupping his face in her hands as she gazed into his eyes, her heart overflowing with emotion. "They can look all they want, but you're the one here," she declared, pulling him into a passionate kiss, sealing their bond with a promise of devotion and desire.
His hands left her only briefly to clean her up before dressing himself, his movements slow and deliberate as he savored the lingering moments of what had just happened.
As he emerged in his Dior attire, abs on full display, Y/n's eyes sparkled, a playful challenge in her voice. "Guess, you're the one drawing all the attention now," she teased as she admired him.
Lewis chuckled, his gaze lingering on her in the black Dior mini. "You don't look too bad yourself, love," he countered, his voice a low rumble.
He pulled her close, his hand trailing down her back. "But trust me," he murmured, his lips brushing her ear, "tonight, the only eyes I care about are yours."
______________________________________________________________
TAGLIST - @saturnssunflower @xoscar03 @chocolatediplomatdreamerzonk @happy-golden-hour @vicurious28
@0710khj @thecubanator2 @neilakk @bigratbitchsworld @adriswrld
@fearfam69691 @cmleitora
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azzibuckets · 2 days
Text
Paper Rings [Part 8/10 | Paige Bueckers]
paige bueckers x fem!reader
summary: paige gets a little jealous and things get a little heated
a/n: thank you all for your patience! part 9 will be up today too
word count: 2.3k
masterlist w/ all parts
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1 MONTH LATER
“The only room left is with Paige.”
As soon as those words left KK’s mouth, your heart started to pulse erratically. “What? There’s no other room?”
KK shook her head apologetically. “There’s an odd number of us, and she called first dibs on getting her own room.”
The thought of having to share a room with Paige sent you into a panic. The sheer proximity would force you two to have to confront your past, and that was something you didn’t feel ready for yet. You inwardly cursed Nika at dragging you alongside this trip. The team had planned a trip celebrating the end of season, and had invited some of their close friends. At first you’d turned down the invite because of prior arrangements, but they ended up getting canceled, and when the girls found out they dragged you along as a last minute addition. You needed to work on keeping your mouth shut, you decided.
“Is she okay with it? I mean, she wanted to room alone,” you protested.
KK raised an eyebrow. “Girl, are you really asking that?”
Blushing, you looked down. “I don’t know, KK. It might be awkward.”
“Good.” KK stuck the key card in your pocket. “You guys better work things out. I’m tired of seeing you guys play games.” She patted you on the back and left you alone in the lobby.
Sighing, you double checked the room number before making your way to the elevator. Anxiety pounded in your head up until the moment you knocked on the door, half hoping Paige wouldn’t be in there and that you could deal with this issue later.
Unfortunately, the door swung open right away. Paige was in her dark basketball shorts and a tight fitting UConn tee. Her eyes brightened when she saw you, and she leaned against the door. “Hey.”
You marveled at her ability to make you all flustered with just a single raspy word. But you didn’t want to see the effect she had on you, so you straightened yourself and spoke with as much confidence as you could muster. “Apparently I’m supposed to room with you.”
Paige’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, and she looked over her shoulder to scan the room. “Right, right. Um, give me one sec.” Without bothering to close the door, she hurried back to the room and started piling clothes into her suitcase and throwing away food wrappers.
“Paige,” you laughed, stepping into the room. “Relax. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
The blonde blushed, sending you a sheepish look. “Sorry. I wasn’t really expecting you.”
“Me neither,” you said under your breath. Ignoring her questioning look, you stepped further into the room to look around. Only then did you realize that there was one bed.
The fates definitely had it out for you. You eyed the rest of the room, hoping another bed would magically appear. Paige made eye contact with you, seeming to sense your anxiety. “Don’t worry about it,” she mumbled. “I can sleep on the floor with some blankets. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”
Years ago, you’d slept in Paige’s bed almost every night, with a drawer in her room. It didn’t matter if it was a weekend or if you had school the next day. You always slept over. You guys were both touchy, so practically every day you’d wake up with your legs tangled, Paige’s face in the crook of your elbow or your forehead pressed against her shoulder. It has been so natural. And now? Now she was offering to sleep on the floor, like you guys were strangers.
“Don’t be silly,” you forced yourself to sound nonchalant. “We can both sleep on here. There’s tons of room.” You knew you wouldn’t be getting much sleep tonight, with Paige next to you. The tension would be unbearable.
You could sense the blonde hesitate before she nodded. “If you’re sure.” She looked at her phone as it lit up with a text. She stood up, grabbing a jacket. “They’re all downstairs getting lunch. You ready?”
When you reached the resteraunt, the only two seats left were one in the middle and one at the end, next to Ice’s friend that you didn’t know. You didn’t feel much like talking, so you took the seat next to Ice’s friend. She seemed nice enough.
“You’re Y/N?” Ice’s friend was a ginger, with vibrant hair and a smattering of freckles across her pink cheeks. She was definitely pretty in a charismatic way, with a chip on her front tooth and curious eyes.
“That’s me.”
She scanned you up and down before slowly smiling. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Marissa.”
Your cheeks heated up at how she’d unashamedly checked you out. But you brushed it off. Based on the clothes she was wearing, she seemed pretty straight. She probably just liked your shirt or your jeans or something.
You opened the menu, musing over what you should get. Marissa popped up behind your shoulder. “I’m not super hungry. You wanna share?”
Relieved that you wouldn’t have to make a decision, you nodded in agreement. “Whatever you’re getting is fine.”
“Alright.” She scooted her chair closer to yours, drawing the attention of the entire table as the legs screeched against the tiles. “So we can share,” she explained as everyone stared.
You could feel the heat of Paige’s stare as she observed how close you and Marissa now were, your elbows colliding with each movement, but you chose to ignore it. You didn’t need to deal with any drama right now, especially since you guys were now in the same room.
“So.” Marissa propped her chin up on her hand. “What’s your connection?”
You played with the napkin in front of you. A swan origami would look good, you thought. “Sorry?”
Marissa laughed as if you’d just told the funniest joke ever. “I mean, with the team. How’d you become friends with them?”
Chewing on your bottom lip, you debated what to say. You didn’t wanna say Paige’s name and give off the impression that you guys were still best friends, but you didn’t want to lie either. You settled on telling Marissa that you were friends with all of them but Paige had introduced you guys.
“Nice,” Marissa nodded. You guys fell into small talk. She was pretty nice, but a little inquisitive, and your social battery was starting to drain.
“What do you like to do?”
“Read. I like reading. I like hiking and being outdoors. And watching sports too. Volleyball, soccer, basketball,” you nodded your head at the team at the latter.
“Oh, awesome.” Marissa touched your wrist. You looked down. Okay, now she was definitely flirting. “Do you play a sport?”
“She plays water polo,” Paige quickly interjected from across the table. The whole table quieted down, but she didn’t look away, staring at us with a kind of ferocity you knew all too well.
Marissa looked between us with surprise. “Oh, nice.” She pondered thoughtfully, then broke into a smile. “Oh shit, I heard the swim suits get really tight in that sport. Are they that bad?”
You laughed, trying to diffuse the tension at the table. “Yeah, they’re pretty tight, but I’ve gotten used to it. The only thing is that they’re kinda revealing.”
Marissa bit her lip, her fingers tapping your wrist. “Then I’ll have to watch you sometime.”
At this, Paige started coughing. KK whacked her on the back. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. You knew Paige was laughing at Marissa’s poor attempts at flirting, and a small part of you found it funny too, but another part of you was furious at Paige. Why did she think it was her place to act like this?
So you decided to bite back, and you leaned towards Marissa with a suggestive smile on your face. “Maybe you will.”
Paige immediately stopped hacking away, and her face turned rigid. Thankfully, the waiter arrived with the food, so all the girls got distracted. The atmosphere returned to normal as all the girls complimented the food and went back to their conversations.
The rest of lunch went fairly smoothly, albeit the fact that Marissa had upped her flirting since, and Paige would not stop glaring at the two of you. But you were grateful for the fact that she’d stopped intervening and kept to herself.
You sighed, leaning back in your seat. Mostly of the girls had already finished their meals and left. It was just Paige and KK continuing their dumb argument over the best Tru Fu flavor, Nika and Caroline chatting intently about the recent Mystics game, and you and Marissa. You’d wanted to leave and go lie down in the hotel bed eons ago, but the ginger couldn’t seem to get the hint.
The waiter set down a refill of Marissa’s Shirley Temple in front of her. She plucked the cherry from it, rolling the stem between her fingers before bringing it up to my mouth. “You like cherries?” she smirked.
All of a sudden, a long arm stretched between the two of us and grabbed it from Marissa’s hand. “She doesn’t like cherries,” Paige uttered, leaning from across the table. “But I do. Thanks!” She popped the cherry in her mouth and calmly returned to her food.
Nika and Caroline were too absorbed in their conversation to realize what had happened. But of course KK had seen the whole thing, and her mouth dropped open as she tried not to laugh.
Marissa didn’t seem too offput by what Paige had just done, continuing the conversation like normal. But you couldn’t hear her, her voice muffled and drowned out by the noise ringing in your ears. Heat crept up from the base of your neck. What the fuck did Paige think she was doing?
Finally, you interrupted Marissa’s spiel with an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry,” you said. “But I gotta go. I told my mom I’d call her at 2.”
“Oh, okay,” Marissa said. “I’ll see you!”
You got up quickly before she could hug you or anything and called Paige’s name. “I don’t have a room key,” you lied, relentlessly staring her down. “Can you come up with me?”
Paige looked back at KK, who mouthed to her, “You’re in deep shit.” The blonde slowly and begrudgingly turned back around, getting up and following you out of the resteraunt.
We were silent in the elevator. Paige kept shooting you nervous looks while you stood against the wall with your arms crossed. Your anger was building, spilling over. You felt as if you were expanding, ballooning with rage. If you didn’t control yourself, fast, you’d explode.
As soon as the door clicked behind you two, you turned around and jabbed a finger in Paige’s chest. “What the hell was that?”
Paige clenched her jaw, her face set and stony. “What do you mean?”
“Oh, fuck you. You know what I mean. Stop acting oblivious,” you hissed.
Paige was backed up against the wall now, your faces inches apart. “You hate cherries. You used to give me the cherries in all your Shirley Temples,” she shrugged. “I’m sorry Miss Marissa didn’t know that,” she added, her tone bloodcurdlingly condescending, riling you up even more.
“What if I’d wanted that cherry? We’ve barely talked in the past year. Stop acting like you know me.” You ignored the way Paige’s face fell at your words, focusing instead on your anger. You needed to stay mad. Paige always found a way to appease your anger, but not this time. You needed to get your point across.
“If you want a cherry so damn bad, I’ll go down and get one for you.”
Your nostrils flared at Paige’s attitude. “You and I both know that’s not what this is about. So why don’t you stop behaving like a kid and tell me why you’re acting like this?”
Paige’s chest was heaving. She was looking at you with so much anger and frustration and something else in her eyes. “Huh?” you prodded, pushing her chest.
Paige looked up at the ceiling. When she looked back down, her eyes were wet. “What do you want me to admit, Y/N?” Her voice was low and cold, nothing like the high-pitched intensity of my yelling. “The fact that I’m jealous? That it sickens my stomach to see you guys loudly flirting for the entire meal? Do you know how humiliating it is for me to just sit there and not say anything as my entire team watches my ex play around with some girl? I had a fucking migraine the entire time thinking about how many times this must’ce happened in the past year. So many times I wasn’t there that people were talking to you like that and touching you, and it made me want to fucking die.”
You reared your head. “Don’t say that.” Stumbling back, you shrilled out, “Don’t you fucking say that when you’re the reason we’re like this now.”
Paige’s eyes flashed. “You never let me apologize. I have so many things to say and you won’t even hear me out.”
You couldn’t help but laugh. Your laugh was rattled and hollow, a reflection of the uneasy feelings in your chest. “Begging for my attention? That’s funny. I thought I was the fan girl. Desperate to have just. one. fuck. with. you.”
It looked like a car had hit Paige in the stomach, taking the air from her lungs. She crumpled up. “Y/N. Please. I never, ever, meant that.” She reached for you, but you stepped away from her grasp.
“I need some air.” You shoved your way past her, letting the door slam away behind you.
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steddieas-shegoes · 3 days
Note
congrats on 3000!!! 🎉🍾🎊💖
For the sentence prompt: "I'm just gonna go freak out for a minute first."
Thank you!!!! ♥️
➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰➰
Steve was holding his hand while the doctor checked his stitches. It wasn’t really that weird for him to be holding his hand, not since he woke up half-dead in the hospital.
It was a little weird that he was rubbing his thumb against the side of his thumb, though.
And probably a little weird that his other hand was resting on his head, a weight that was comforting and confusing all at once.
“Looks great, Eddie. I’d say by the next visit, we’ll be able to get them out and let these finish healing naturally,” the doctor smiled at him as he pulled his shirt back down.
Steve’s hand squeezed his, and he couldn’t help looking over at the sunshine in the seat next to him.
It had to be pretty obvious how he felt about Steve. He’s lucky none of the kids have caught on and started teasing him yet.
Robin has, but at least she knows to do it privately.
“I’ll have the front desk schedule you for two weeks out. You can grab an appointment card on the way out. Keep them all clean and don’t do any heavy lifting or physical activity quite yet,” the doctor reminded as she pulled off her gloves and threw them in the trash. “You boys have a nice day.”
As she left the room, Steve helped Eddie sit up slowly. He didn’t really need the help anymore, but he’d be an idiot to admit it with how much Steve touched him.
“Two more weeks, Eds! That’s better than what they thought last time,” Steve was so excited for him. His smile was lighting up the room and he looked five seconds away from bouncing on his feet.
“Yeah, it’s great.”
“Aren’t you excited?” Steve’s smile dropped at Eddie’s tone.
“Yeah! Yeah, it’ll be great to have less limits. Might be able to get the guys together for a jam session,” Eddie gave a small smile.
“But…?”
Eddie sighed. “But then you won’t be around anymore, right? Like, other than when we all hang out on movie nights. You only stuck around because no one else could really help me every day. Everyone had work or families that wouldn’t let them out of their sight.”
Steve looked heartbroken, and Eddie couldn’t figure out why.
“Eddie, I’m not gonna leave you just because you don’t technically need me anymore,” Steve shook his head. “We’re- we’re friends, aren’t we?”
“Of course! I mean, I thought so. But I know it could just be that you feel bad and I wouldn’t expect you to stick around because of that.”
Steve grabbed his other hand, his grip tightening on Eddie’s skin almost painfully.
“I wanna stick around for a lot of reasons, Eds.”
Eddie was caught in his gaze, his wide, pleading eyes almost too much.
“Like what?”
“Like because you’re fun to be around. You’re funny and talented and smart. You taught me about Hobbits! Love those guys,” Steve stepped closer. “You’re brave and you care about all of us. You-“ Steve swallowed. “You see me. The real me.”
“What do you mean?” Eddie’s heart was racing as he looked between Steve’s eyes, down to his lips where his tongue had poked out momentarily to wet them.
“You’ve seen me when my parents have come home and made me feel like shit and you just distracted me with singing whatever pop songs are on the radio and helping me cook dinner. You’ve been there when I had a two day long migraine and couldn’t even stand up to go to the bathroom. You made grocery shopping fun! I fucking hate grocery shopping, but you just keep being silly and making me laugh and I had fun.” Steve leaned in so his forehead was touching Eddie’s. “You laugh at my jokes, even when they aren’t that funny. You listen to me when no one else pays attention. You see who I am and you let me be who I am and I don’t feel scared that you’ll run.”
“I’m not running.”
“I know. I love that you aren’t, that you won’t.” Steve closed his eyes for a moment. When he opened them again, they were watery. “I love you.”
Eddie was certain he was dead. Maybe the last month had all been some coma-induced dream and they finally pulled the plug. Maybe he actually died in the Upside Down and the last month was his final goodbye to everyone in his own head.
He stood up slowly, trying not to push Steve away, but having to guide him away from the table he’d been laying on.
“Where are you going? You’re not leaving, right?”
“Nope. I’m just gonna go freak out for a minute first.”
“Um.”
Eddie smiled, leaned in to kiss Steve’s cheek, and pulled away.
“Give me a minute. This is either the most realistic dream I’ve ever had or the best day of my life.”
Steve snorted, but let him walk to the door and stand outside of it for a moment.
When Eddie came back in, his cheeks were red, but he looked determined.
He pulled Steve into him by his hips, crushed their lips together, and smiled so hard their teeth clacked against each other. It was a little messy for a first kiss, but they could get better.
“You love me? Really?”
“I thought it was obvious,” Steve laughed as they pulled apart.
“I thought I was obvious!”
“Not really. I was convinced I was imaging things! Robin had to explain to me what the hanky code was before I even believed you liked guys!”
They both laughed so hard they cried, forgetting entirely that they were still in the doctor’s examination room.
Someone knocked on the door and they broke apart quickly, trying to stop the laughter for a moment to deal with whoever was at the door.
A nurse poked her head in. “Sorry, don’t wanna rush you, but just wanted to make sure everything was okay? Did you need to see the doctor again?”
“No, no. Sorry. We’re heading out. He just needed a minute,” Steve said quickly, smiling back at her.
She nodded and left, leaving the door open as a silent reminder that they needed to disinfect the room for the next patient.
“Steve.”
“Yeah?”
“I love you, too.”
“You don’t have to say it just-“
“I’m not. I’m saying it because I love you. I see you, remember? There’s a lot there to love.”
Steve turned a bright red, and Eddie decided then he would do just about anything to see that shade on Steve’s cheeks and neck as often as possible.
“Let’s go home,” Steve finally said when he recovered. “Wanna kiss you more.”
“Can’t argue with that.”
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moonbaetarot · 19 hours
Text
Pick a pile
What will your summer be like
1. 2. 3.
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Pile 1
Summer is going to be a big resting time for you the past few months or year has been very hard on you mentally, emotionally physically also stress and anxiety your finally getting the rest you need and healing. I definitely see you having fun with family and friends going to parties or events. I see a wedding for some. Your summer will be very balanced your not inside to much but your also not outside to much you feel very content. You may feel sad sometimes not “sad sad”but like calm sad. You may be in the puppy love stage in a relationship this summer starting a new relationship it feels very dreamy “ I want this to last forever energy”. There may be some type of misunderstanding or miss judgment here something not clicking. The color purple may significant.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 2
This summer is going to be very important and significant to you definitely one to remember. I definitely see a man idk if this is your dad or boyfriend just a manly figure but they are coming through very strongly in this reading. You may be working a lot this summer getting your finances right and money up. You’re definitely balancing something out gaining clarity seeing something through another perspective. You’re staying calm focusing on yourself. Self love if definitely important. I feel like there was Something that hurt you cheating, mind games, lying and this person is very head strong. There will a successful outcome you this problem tho. Family is definitely important to you maybe not even on a physical level but you do “keep the family close” if that makes sense. You also will be listening to a lot of music.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
Pile 3
I definitely get a lot of love and relationship. You may be getting in a relationship or be in one a the moment. If not a relationship a really close friend. You and this person share a lot of hobbies and interests so you may be doing these things a lot. This summer will definitely deepen this relationship to the next level. You’re moving forward in life taking the next step to being successful. You may be changing a lot mentally being a better version of yourself You’re becoming a more patient, loving and grounded person. This change may feel risky or uncomfortable but it’s needed. You may be needing to watch your money closely what’s coming in and out yeah it’s crazy that I got 4 cards back to back about money so just take care of your money I do see it being a physical person is the reason you might have money missing or something but I do see it being preventable.
Thank you for reading loves! 🤍
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enhastolemyheart · 21 hours
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SATURDAY BLESSING | s.jy
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pairing. boyfriend!jake x reader
genre. est. relationship, fluff
synopsis. being in a long distance relationship is hard. But, all works out in the end knowing your boyfriend Jake will come right back to you.
warning(s). kissing, jake and yn being cute, none really lmao, not proofread
word count. 0.8k
networks. @.hyfenet @k-films @kflixnet
note. hey!! it'd been a while lmao i forgot how to do this format thing 😭😭😭 but nonetheless, i had this sweet idea and hope you guys enjoy!!
banner by @cafekitsune
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As you take your regular Saturday stroll through your favorite park nearby your complex, enjoying the fresh air and the calming ambiance. Birds are chirping, the are children running around, people's dogs are chasing squirrels and frisbees, there are the daily fitness people chasing their 10k steps and of course, you cannot miss the lovely elderly couples on their romantic walks.
Growing up in this area for the last thirteen years, this park has been a second home to you. You knew almost everyone here. You watched this park at its highest and lowest. You loved coming here, anytime and any day. One thing that has only enhanced your love for this place is the amount of time you spent here with your boyfriend of 2 years, Jake sim.
You both spend everyday together, but that has come to a temporary end when you both had to long distance. Jake to move to another state to take care of his sick grandmother. He stayed there longer then he'd expected but you knew and had faith that the relationship between you both would only get stronger once you reunite.
As you turn around the corner of the trail, you stop dead in your tracks tracks when a handsome man steps in front of you. Your handsome man. It's your boyfriend Jake, who you hadn't seen in eight months. Your eyes widen and your feet are stuck in place, your breath hitches and tightens. You can feel tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him.
He is so handsome, his hair has grown alot, looking like a mini mullet which looks so good on him. His eyes are just as bright as you seen him last and that adoring smile not wavering for a second. He opens his arms to you, lips in a smirk, "did you miss me, baby?"
His voice. I think my heart just skipped a beat.
That angelic voice was the final recall that he was here, he was finally here in your sight. You run up to him and he wraps his strong arms around your frame, melting in his embrace and basking in his scent. he release a sigh, almost as a sign of content and relief.
He pulls away, tucking a piece of hair behind my ear, lips in a soft smile, "I miss you so much, honey, you have no idea"
"i missed you too Jake, so much,"
And that was it, until he pulls you in for a much needed kiss, his lips in a smile causes yours to smile as well. He holds you very close to him in a gentle but firm grip, not wanting to let go. And you don't want him to, hands on the back of his neck, playing with the grown hair there.
He pulls away, looking into your eyes with full of love, "I love you yn."
you smile ad you kiss his cheek, "And I love you."
As the afternoon turns into evening and the sun slowly sets, You and Jake sit down at one of your favorite spots in the park. You are against a tree, your back warmed up with his chest, arms enveloped around you like a blanket, watching the leaves rustle in the breeze and listening to the birds chirping.
We spend an hour or two just talking, catching up on everything that's happened in the past few months. He tells me that his grandmother is doing much better now and that they hired a woman to take care when his parents cannot. I tell him about my internship at work, it was for the journaling field of a reputed magazine company. We laugh, we tease, and we just enjoy each other's company.
He kisses your temple every so often, and realization dawns upon you that you missed this. You missed this feeling of doing nothing but everything at the same time. You missed his warm hold and his silly, cute laugh, you missed him.
Jake places a kiss on the top of your head before asking you to turn to him, a smile playing on his lips.
"Remember when we first met?" he asks, his eyes twinkling with nostalgia.
You nod, a smile forming on your own lips and you lean the side your face on his shoulder.
"Of course I do," You reply, giggling slightly. "Who could forget meeting the boy of their dreams in a park on a Saturday afternoon?"
Jake laughs, and you share a look of shared understanding. Your time apart may have been long, but our bond feels stronger than ever.
"I love you baby, till death do us apart." Jake says with sincerity.
you smile only widens till your cheeks are hurting, you placed a gently, shaking hand on his cheek and your foreheads meet.
"I love you Jake, till death do us apart."
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perm taglist: @jak-ey ; @snoowhore ; @hsgwrld ; @seungiesluv ; @1-800shutthefuckup ; @heeseungshim (send an ask to be added)
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clubdionysus · 3 days
Text
[BAD DECISION #23] Cherry Picking
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warnings: ohhhhh we have arrived!! okay! a lil (not so) dry hump, bird manipulation!!, panty sniffing!! panties in mouth??, titty sucking, fingering, oral (f receiving), jungkooks nose <3, kissing !!! oh god the loveliest of kisses!!! unprotected sex, 'baby', cum on tits, jk cleans her up with his tongue! a gentleman! over stimulation, squirting, (just friendly tho!!)
soundtrack: diamonds - luke hemmings, finally // beautiful stranger - halsey, ruin the friendship - demi lovato
a/n: just two updates tonight as it cuts off at the perfect place!
wc: 15k
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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"They'll be wondering where you are," you say quietly, as the door behind you clicks shut. There's a slight rustle - the synthetic material of your padded jacket rubbing against itself - when Jeongguk comes to stand behind you, before he drapes it over your shoulders.
"Shouldn't start the New Year with a cold," he simply states stepping over the stone bench to sit down beside you. It's cold beneath his body, but he's got his coat on too. You've a hand warmer in each pocket, so pass one over to him. "Thanks."
"I mean it, Gguk," you double down, voice soft. "It's nearly time."
He just shrugs. Looks up to the sky.
You're in the tiny courtyard that's attached to the staffroom; Jeongguk's secret hiding spot for when he needs to escape from the chaos of Dionysus. There are some sheets of plywood in the corner that Jeongguk needs to take over to Yoongi's studio, but he's still putting off the expansions his boss wants doing. Doesn't want to lose his little sanctuary just yet.
It feels like he's losing more and more comforts day by day.
His final university deadlines are approaching, and he's gonna have to decide if he stays comfortable or does something far more terrifying a lot sooner than he's really ready for.
Change can be daunting, so he's choosing to keep things as they are as much as he can. Feels safer that way. The curse of Jeon Jeongguk is his ability to let his fears control his life. He's always been this way. Fears he always will be. The irony isn't lost on him.
"They'll be wondering where you are, too," he says. Thinks that Danbi must be running around like a headless chicken trying to find you - but also knows she was holding Tae's hand as she was glancing around before he left, so maybe she'll be a bit distracted. Thinks it's about time. Tae's been looking at her like a lovesick pup for weeks, now. Months, even.
"Jiyeong-" You begin, but are cut off by Jeongguk.
He doesn't want to talk about her. Doesn't wanna have to explain what happened, because it feels embarrassing and bothersome. Pity looks so pretty on your features, but he doesn't want to be the recipient of such a gentle look.
"-Isn't gonna be a part of next year," he says. Though his tone isn't stern, it is incredibly final .
You bring your gaze down from the skies, and rest your chin on your shoulder to look at Jeongguk. His eyes are still searching for stars - the light pollution proves to make it impossible - chin tilted upward, dewy nose to the sky. His skin is beginning to blush from the cold. His lips are thin; folded in on themselves, lip ring shining ever so daintily as it flips in the corner of his mouth.
You've missed watching his piercing do the thing. When you've as much alcohol in your system as you do, you find it makes your tummy flip, too. It's silly of your body to behave like that. Drunk or not, Jeongguk is still just Jeongguk.
From the club, you can hear the echoes of a chant. The countdown has begun. If you ask questions now, he'll just brush them off.
You're a little too tipsy to really comprehend what he means, either way.
"We should go back inside," you whisper, eyes still on him, your chin denting down into the thick padding of your coat. You always think you look like an emo Michelin baby whenever you wear it. If Jeongguk heard the comparison, he'd laugh. Would agree.
When he turns to look at you, he barely notices the coat. Just thinks you look cosy. Is pleased to find the stars right here on Earth, instead.
"Won't make it in time," he says.
"Could try?"
"Why bother?"
"'Cause you should be around people who care about you when it hits twelve," you say, a little pout on your lips. He's being difficult.
And then he just shrugs. Knocks into your shoulder. Smiles. "Are we not already?"
There's silence for a moment. Just a second.
The sky above you both begins to sparkle; greens and blues erupting where darkness once was. They scatter into the night; pinks and yellows spiralling just like your mind so often does whenever Jeongguk speaks in riddles.
You're aware that the fireworks are deafening, but you're oblivious to the sound. All you can hear is the beating of your own heart. The explosions shimmer in Jeongguk's eyes, but it's still only stars you can see in them.
"Happy New Year," Jeongguk says quietly. Smiles tenderly. Fills you with a warmth that the frigid winter night had previously stolen. He doesn't look at your lips. Makes no indication that he's thinking about a New Year's kiss.
There are a dozen girls in that room who'd have jumped at the chance to lock lips with him, even if just for a moment as the bells rang out, and yet he's chosen to be with you.
He could have been with Hayun.
And yet he's chosen to be with you.
"Happy New Year," you smile right back. The exchange is soft, like mid-winter snow; warm like a breeze on a summer's day. Secure like a three-pin-padlock; secret, like the code written in the back of an old notebook.
"Hey, B?" He says quietly, eyes still on yours. The sky flashes a myriad of colours. They rain down on him; paint him better than Picasso ever could.
"Mhmm?"
He grins. You think his lip ring looks so pretty. Teeth, too. Pearly and perfectly proportioned for him.
"Stop looking at my lips," he teases. "Gonna make me think you wanna kiss me."
A gasp escapes your lips. You look away. Cover your mouth. Can't believe how fucking obvious you must have been.
"I was just..." you begin to excuse yourself, but then laugh. Choose honesty. "I was actually just thinking about the fact you missed out on a New Years Kiss."
Jeongguk shrugs in that boyish way he so often does, as if he has no care for the arbitrary realities of life. C'est la vie . He looks up to the skies, and lets his smile linger as the illuminations paint the midnight skies.
"Got all year for kisses, B. Only one chance to see the New Year in with my best friend."
And maybe it's because you've been rattled by Hayun, or maybe it's because he's one of the only good things to have come out of the past year, but hearing him claim you as his best friend makes you feel like a weight has been lifted.
"Best friend?" You question, just to make sure.
He nods. "Best friend."
It's laughable, really, how those two words take aim at the arrows shot by Hayun, and knocks them off course before they can really implode on your heart. Just a surface scratch, now. That's all.
"What about Jimin?"
Jeongguk tilts his head to the side. Considers it. "Family."
You're pleased to hear the conclusion of his consideration. You've a shared history with Jimin that could make things awkward between the three of you, and yet you all chalk it up to dumb drunk choices. Aren't the first you've ever made. Won't be the last.
"Be weird if I said you were like family, too," Jeongguk adds - then feels the need to clarify, even though he totally doesn't. "Fucked you. Would make for weird family gatherings."
You laugh. Nod. "Yeah. Probably best you don't ever tell girls I'm like a sister or anything like that," you muse.
He laughs, too, but doesn't say anything. Thinks of Hayun, and how he knows you had definitely had a spat with her before you left. Wants to know what was said. Knows it will be about him. Doesn't want to sour your mood. Is quite conflicted.
Luckily for him, your mind works in a similar way, and your filter is next to non-existent when you've had as many drinks as you have.
"I thought Hayun was your best friend."
Jeongguk looks over to you, his eyes a little hard, brows pinching above his nose. You don't look at him. The fireworks are dwindling, now.
"Friendships change," he admits candidly.
Won't tell you how the second he heard someone asking for star fuckers, he assumed it was you .
Won't tell you how he recited lines - already said to you - to her, because he wasn't comfortable enough in her presence to let his brain think of anything original. Went for something safe. Went for something nurtured with you.
Won't tell you how much the way you've subtly distracted him - with glitter and nonsensical conversations - throughout the night has helped him get his head straight.
Won't tell you how watching you leave felt like a sucker punch to the chest.
Won't tell you that he didn't even consider going over to his friends, because in that moment he was furious with the fact Hayun had made you want to leave so close to midnight. He likes to think it wasn't intentional, but celebrating with her while you would have been alone? Didn't seem like something worth celebrating at all.
If he hadn't been distracted (as always) by your disco ball eyes, and the way light shines from your very being, he never would have known you were speaking with her. Never would have seen her do that thing with her eyes - the cold, vacant, roll of them he used to know so well - that he hated so much. Never would have realised you were leaving.
You'd have spent New Year's by yourself, away from the people who love you, cold and quiet.
And it would have been her fault.
Mentally, he excuses her bad behaviour; tells himself it's probably a mix of alcohol and someone new taking her place that made her hostile.
But when he looks at you, and acknowledges the sadness that imposes on your features, the guilt creeps in. He blames himself . If he'd have introduced you two, maybe it would have gone differently. If Jiyeong hadn't been so rude to her, maybe Hayun wouldn't have been so malevolent with you.
Absolving Hayun of blame is something Jeongguk's been doing for years. Patterns of behaviour are easy to acknowledge; difficult to end.
He's trying. He's here. That counts for something.
You think Jeongguk is right. Friendships do change. You're scared that Hayun's presence will change yours.
"When do you clock off?" You ask, instead of venturing any further down the road of a topic you don't think will benefit either of you.
Jeongguk raises his wrist - the one without his watch on it - and hums. Pretends to read it. Makes you giggle.
"About five minutes ago."
The skies have settled once more. The only stars he can see are ones in his peripherals; the specks of glitter on his skin, and the girl beside him.
The chill of a winter freeze is sobering you up. You know that you probably can't walk straight, but you can think straight, and that's absolutely outrageous, as far as you're concerned. The night is still young and - as Jimin said - so are you. The heaviness in your heart is ageing you. You don't care for it.
"Starfuckers?" you propose - and the way Jeongguk smiles has you wishing you'd asked earlier.
"Thought you'd never ask," he grins, but catches himself.
Decides he needs to give you a little context on Jiyeong before continuing the night, 'cause he doesn't wanna talk about it when he's a few shots too deep to be sensible about things.
"Jiyeong gets really... argumentative when she drinks."
His slow speech makes it evident how careful he's trying to be. You know what it really means. Knows she must have said something awful for him to be mentioning it now.
"Was it bad?" you ask, a little clueless, and hating it.
Jeongguk nods. Bites the bullet. Doesn't look at you as he says, "She threw a drink on me."
"She what?!"
Jeongguk smirks, not because he finds it funny, but because he finds it awkward. Rolls his eyes, and shakes his head. "Was at the bar. Fucking mortifying ."
You study his face, looking for signs you might have missed.
"Where did she get you?" You ask, but realise as soon as your question finishes. You gasp again. Can't believe you hadn't thought to ask earlier. "The outfit change?!"
He confirms your suspicions. "Anyways, I'm sort of... done with her."
His hesitation is genuine, not because he's unsure of his choice, just because he's still worried about letting you down.
To his surprise, you're the one apologising.
The weight in your chest when he admits that he doesn't want to be with her is catastrophic. You thought you had picked well for him. You really thought maybe you'd helped him. You feel like the failure.
"Gguk, if I'd have known she was like that, I never would have set things up. I'm so so sorry. You didn't deserve that whatsoever."
"Not your fault," he says, offering you a sincere smile. "Just the way the cookie crumbles sometimes."
He's downplaying it, and you both know it. He doesn't want to talk about it though, so you won't push. Not now. Another time, yes.
Thing is, neither of you are at fault. C'est la vie.
"You know how many stars there are?" You ask, in a bid to change the subject to something a little easier to digest.
Jeongguk shakes his head. "Not a clue, B."
"Oh," you say quietly. "Thought you might. Always mumbling stuff about the stars, you are."
He smiles to himself. Thinks it's hardly a surprise.
Deflects, and asks, "You know much about manure?"
"What?" You chirp, then laugh. What a bizarre question. "No?"
"Oh," he hums, mimicking you. "Thought you might. Always chatting shit."
You tell him to fuck off, so he gets to his feet - but holds his hand out for you.
"C'mon," he knocks his head to the side. "Let's go get fucked up."
It's quarter past twelve by the time you make it back to your friends, Jeongguk double fisting drinks 'cause he's so far behind everyone else and needs to get fucked up.
It doesn't take much - four double dark rum and cokes, three purple starfuckers - for him to be doing the robot in a strange sort of avant-garde dance battle with Hobi and Jimin. You're not really sure what you're looking at as Jeongguk moves his body in a way you never need to see him move his body - but you find it hilarious. He's both smooth and awkward in his movements. None of it quite makes sense.
You smile through it all. Endlessly. Affectionately. Adoringly.
And then you're laughing, too.
Might just be the vodka. Might be the nerves of Hayun's eyes being on you. Most likely, it's because Jeongguk looks ridiculous. So sexy in one moment, and so goofy in the next.
You never know what's coming next. He almost stumbles over to you as you nurse on a drink by the sofas. Regains his balance. Tries to play it cool. Is suave as he says, "you good down there, B?" - but then he sinks down into the sofa beside you, a silly grin on his rum-drunk lips. You find that you'd welcome all his surprises, good or bad.
He hiccups. Scolds himself. Asks you how you are. Hiccups again. Listens as you tell him to hold his breath. Hiccups as he's doing it. Gives up. Hiccups freely.
He's still got a drink in his hand, so you take it from him and have a sip or two. He doesn't protest. Rabbits on about something neither of you will remember in the morning. The club lights hit him in all the right places, making his glittered cheekbones appear even more majestic than they already were.
"More glitter," you muse. "You need more glitter."
"Y'know," he slurs, looking all very poised and serious, a finger pointing as he speaks. "I was thinking the exact same thing."
He chats absolute shit while you dapple his cheeks with more pretty sparkles. They match his eyes, now.
You've managed to avoid Hayun since returning, and you're secretly pleased that Jeongguk has done the same.
Aside from a few awkward glances when you both arrived back to greet your friends, he's deliberately steered clear. Wants an orderly mind before they speak again.
He's still disgruntled by the fact you found her so intolerable you were willing to spend New Year alone just to not be near her. Trusts you. Trusts your judgement (even if you did set him up with Jiyeong). Trusts you always see the good in people, but knows you struggled to see the good in her.
Thinks maybe life would have been easier if he met you first.
Hayun over by the bar with Nabi and Tae. They seem to be her closest friends amongst the circle. Yoongi didn't say a single word to her all night, but Seoyeon was pretty friendly with her.
They left just after midnight, and were gone by the time you and Jeongguk returned from the courtyard. Namjoon's working the early shift tomorrow - "the news isn't gonna write itself" - so he'd dipped with them, too.
Like Yoongi, Jimin gives Hayun the cold shoulder. It's expected, given how close he is to Jeongguk.
You're unaware of the fact that she and Jimin go way back. Knew each other as kids. If anyone should have still been pally with her, it would be him - but he's the only one who knows how much Jeongguk suffered because of her. He knows the situation almost as well as he knows the plotline for The Notebook, and considering that it's his go-to hangover movie (while also considering how often he's hungover), it's safe to say he's got a decent understanding of it.
Jimin will never be on Hayun's side. He told her years ago that this would be the consequence of her dicking Jeongguk around, and is a man of his word when it comes to his friends. Used to really eat him up, how easily she let go of their friendship. Counts it as a blessing, now.
As he stands by the bar and notices what's going on with you, Jeongguk and a tube of liquid glitter, he smiles. Doesn't have a clue what happened with Jiyeong. Doesn't care. Really couldn't give a shit for any other girl in Jeongguk's life. Is just glad he has you.
You've been good for him.
"What's going on with them?" Hayun asks as she joins him at the bar. Is a little annoyed Jeongguk has been so... avoidant. It's a change to the norm. Jeongguk doesn't do change. Something feels... off.
Jimin's smile fades. She still tries to be his friend. It annoys him. "Nothing."
She laughs. It's insincere.
"I've got a pair of eyes, Jimin. He's sat there like a lovesick puppy while some girl covers him in fucking glitter," she sneers.
"So? Your point?"
"It's fucking weird."
Jimin rolls his eyes. Exhales a deep sigh. "You've not been here, Hayun. You can't come back and decide that everything is awful just because it isn't the way you left it. Life's moved on. You should try it, sometime."
"That's not it," she says.
"So what is it?" Jimin questions. He doesn't really want to be having this conversation, but everyone's fucked. He thinks he'd rather know if she's up to no good. Might not remember it in the morning, but at least he'll know now.
"He's changed."
"He's happy," Jimin says bluntly. "That's what's changed."
"She's not his girlfriend," Hayun states.
Jimin knows about Jeongguk's desire to call things off with Jiyeong. Doesn't know about the fact he kind of already has. Also doesn't think it's his place to air Jeongguk's dirty laundry, so he says the safest thing he can.
"Nor is Jiyeong, if that's what you're getting at. Not sure if you remember, but Gguk has a hard time saying no to girls who treat him like shit," he says with a little venom. "His relationships are frankly none of your business. You revoked rights to that sort of information years ago."
"I'm just concerned," she says - and she sounds like she actually means it. Jimin doesn't buy it for a second, but lets her talk. "I used to know him better than anyone. It's like looking at a stranger, now."
"And who's fault is that?" Jimin snaps, but either Hayun is too drunk to really notice or too narcissistic to actually care.
Instead of actually responding, Hayun muses aloud. "All of it...the glitter, the puppy dog eyes... her attitude problem... It all just screams quarter-life crisis."
She's unaware that your glitter session ended a few minutes ago. Is unaware that you've dashed to the staff room to put your phone on charge. Is unaware that you'd sent Jeongguk on the hunt for more drinks.
Doesn't realise until Yeonjun flashes a grin, and says, "fuckin' hell. Shoulda put a bet on you morphing into Disco Ball."
Jeongguk smirks, resting his palms on the bar. He is, admittedly, DB2.0 at this point. There's glitter in his hair . "Starfuckers?"
"Trust me to make them?" Yeonjun checks - not that Jeongguk is stepping a foot behind the bar, not when he's as trashed as he is. The palms resting on the bar aren't just because he knows he looks good - it's because he needs to steady himself.
He nods. Taps Jimin on shoulder. "Starfucker?"
"Stupid question."
"I think the word you were looking for is 'yes'," Jeongguk grins, turning his attention back to Yeonjun. "Three, please, mate."
Hayun doesn't hide the smile on her face. Some things, apparently, don't change. She likes Jeongguk when you aren't around.
"Hey, buddy," she smiles in that way she always did when she'd been up to no good and wanted him on her side again.
Jeongguk is silent. Isn't smiling. Doesn't look at her. Just simply says: "Careful, Hayun."
"Hmm?" she questions, wondering what on earth she needs to watch out for. The bar's nearly empty, now.
"Watch your mouth when you're chatting shit," he says dryly, his voice just as flat as his eyes are vacant. "You never know who's listening."
Yeonjun can't help but smirk. Has been watching Jeongguk's entire life blow up right in front of his very eyes all night, and it just never ceases to surprise him. Has no idea who this bitch is in front of him, but the way Jeongguk looks like he wants to chew her up and spit her out? Oh, he is living for it.
He pours the shots. Decides the bar needs a good wipe-down. Stays close just to listen in.
Is surprised when he hears Jeongguk mention you by name. Had almost forgotten you actually have one. Is so used to calling you Disco Ball.
Admittedly, he thinks there's a tenderness to the way Jeongguk says your name. Thinks it's really fuckin' sweet.
He says your name, knocks back his shot, then says, "I dunno what you said to her earlier, but you were outta line. She's our friend." He passes the next shot over to Jimin. Finally looks down at Hayun. Is surprised when it doesn't hurt like he half thinks it should. He's never spoken to her like this before. "So play nicely, and keep her name out your mouth unless you're telling her how pretty her glitter looks."
Hayun thinks Jeongguk's gone absolutely clinically insane.
Yeonjun thinks this is brilliant .
From the corner of his eye, Jeongguk notices the staff room door open and close, so he picks up the spare shot that Hayun mistakenly thought was hers. As you approach, glittery and gorgeous like always, he holds it out for you to take.
"Oh, you star. Thank you," you beam, accepting it without a second thought. You ignore Hayun.
"Charging?" Jeongguk asks, just to make sure the dodgy wire in the staff room is working. You nod, and assure him it's fine. "Dancefloor?"
Again, you nod. "Please."
Yeonjun thinks he's gonna watch the security cameras back later just to see all of that unfold again. He's never seen a face look so much like a slapped arse, but Hayun? Offt . She's going through it.
"Y'know, maybe he has changed," Jimin smirks. "Ain't that a blessing."
Hayun is silent. Jeongguk has never spoken to her like that. Ever. Not even when they were fighting. The life she's returned to no longer has space for her, or so it feels like.
You're too drunk to care. Decide that you're better off pretending like she doesn't exist. You derive no joy from her existence, and think that this year you should only do things that make you happy.
When Jeongguk forces you to dance with him? You're happy.
When he yawns, and starts talking about kebabs? You're happy.
When he holds your hand and drunkenly traipses down the clubbing district to the kebab place he swears down laces their fries with crack? You're happy.
Happy when Jeongguk insists you walk instead of catching a cab, happy when he offers you a piggyback, happy when he doesn't put you down, not even in the elevator of his apartment complex.
Doesn't put you down until you're both sat on the floor between his kitchen area and sitting room. The lights are off, but early morning is breaking; the city intruding on your privacy.
Your hair is so long now, he thinks. How long has he known you? He can't remember. But it was short when you first met. Just above your shoulders. Now, it finishes midway down your chest. You're not the same person as you were back then, and nor is he.
It's a realisation; he's still learning about you. If somebody had asked him even a day ago how quickly your hair grows, he wouldn't have had an answer. Had never noticed. Knows your roots need doing, but he likes them so never comments on them.
Jeongguk knows you so well, and yet not at all.
He knows your favourite drink in a dive bar, but doesn't know what you'd get at bottomless brunch with the girls. Knows that you demolish Psy's It's Art in a noraebang, but has no idea what your favourite song is. Knows so much and yet knows nothing at all.
Knows your fears; doesn't know your hopes.
The realisation upsets him.
And so he asks. Lets you drunkenly natter on about your childhood dreams; plays the band you said soundtracked your childhood from his phone. It's set on the floor a little bit away from you. He chooses not to play it through a proper speaker. There's an intimacy to this. Thinks it's important you keep this shit analogue.
There's a dozen birds above Jeongguk's bed that outline the a-z of your intimacy textbook, but none of them include this.
None of them mentions talking about your childhood pet, and watching Jeongguk's pretty little smile appear on his scrunched-up face as he enthuses over puppy pictures.
Not a single bird includes candid admittance of times you threatened to run away from your family home as a teenager; nor do they include the way the Jeongguk asks about your escape plans, and tells you how you definitely could have done it.
There are no birds that tell you to bare your soul, and yet, you do.
Jeongguk is so kind with it. Accepts it graciously, and touches it with tender hands; places it down beside his own, and finds you fit perfectly in the empty space.
He finds himself nervous. Not in the lip-biting, ring-flipping, unsure eyes kind of way you're used to seeing him in, well, any uncomfortable situation; but in a different way entirely.
He worries that the night will end. Is concerned that you'll leave, and that things will be cemented in this awkwardly 'okay' stalemate.
He knows more about you than he did a few hours ago; has learned itsy bitsy tales of childhood and saw your face cringe as he scoured your mum's facebook page for pictures of your teenage haircut that you swore was cool at the time (not that his mother's kitchen scissor bowl cut was much better).
You've an idea of the layout of his family home, thanks to an overly explained prank that he says he pulled on his brother, which you also learn resulted in no eyebrows for either of them (another thing to thank his mother for ( "a punishment to match the crime" is how Jeongguk phrased it as he mindlessly stroked over his since-recovered brows)).
These aren't little things to know about one another. They're candid revelations packaged in awkward smiles and tied with liquor-laced ribbons.
Little presents, squirrelled away in each of your minds; reminders that the most intimate we can be with another person is when we're fully clothed.
Foolish of you not to consider that. C'est la vie.
That's what Jeongguk worries about. He worries that you'll leave, and the physical intimacy won't have matched the emotional intimacy and it will fuck with your head. Will have you ignoring him, or avoiding him.
You don't say anything, but as you watch him get to grips with a karaoke mic by the sofa, a song about makgeolli playing in the background, his giggles echoing into the speaker system, you don't ever want to avoid him again. Hated the time spent keeping a distance. Life is so much better when he's around.
He encourages you up, and forces you to dance with him like a pair of lunatics to an old Psy song. It's one of the ones Psy would always sing at his university campus shows, and when you mention this, Jeongguk cannot fathom the fact you've seen him live . Forces you to find it on youtube. Tries to find you in the crowd - but it's like a game of where's wally.
Eventually, he gives up. Says he's found you. Points to the mirror in the corner of the room - and when you look over and see the pair of you as you are, you decide that maybe bad decisions would be a good idea.
Glitter speckled, you're both messes. Still in your club clothes, there's something funny about the way your hair is in a lopsided bun on top of your head, his hair kind of all over the place. You'd be forgiven for thinking the pair of you had been at it - when in reality, all you'd been doing was singing your hearts out in a make-shift home noraebang.
You're busy laughing, toying with his little tufts of hair that stick out on end when his front door beeps, Jimin finally entering the code to return home. Dawn is breaking, and you're surprised that he's alone. He's busy chewing on a sotteok sotteok stick - mini sausages and rice cakes threaded onto a wooden skewer - to pay you much attention. The spicy sauce drips into the container he's holding, which you both recognise to be from the convenience store down the road.
"Here he is," Jeongguk teases, as Jimin casts his housemate a small grin.
He's pissed - still drunk as a skunk - and slurs his words as he goes to speak. "There's a disco ball in our living room."
"It's not a party worth having if you don't have a disco ball," you assure him, to which he lets you know that it's not a party if there are only two people.
"When there's two," he mumbles through a mouthful of tteok, waving the half-empty stick in the air. "That's not a party."
"So what is it?" Jeongguk asks.
The way Jimin smiles before he starts talking makes Jeongguk regret ever asking.
"A couple."
Jeongguk shoos him away. Tells him he needs a good night's sleep before he inevitably watches The Notebook tomorrow morning, like he always does whenever he wakes up alone with a hangover. A depressing way to start the year, you think.
"DB, you like Gosling?" Jimin says, in his pants and t-shirt now, sitting on the floor. He's holding a glass of water like it's a sippy cup. You cannot believe you've had sex with him. Twice. "Wanna watch?"
"Prefer Reynolds," you say of the famous Ryan's.
Jeongguk squeezes your knee. Smiles. Remembers the Deadpool marathons with you and Danbi. Likes how much you've both integrated into one another's lives.
This is just reality now.
And for the first time in a long time, Jeongguk realises just how lucky he really is. His life may not be grand, and it may not be written about in history books; but it's a fulfilled life. He's happy.
Jimin falls asleep on the living room floor. Is dragged into his room by Jeongguk. Won't remember any of it in the morning.
When Jeongguk finally retires to his room, you're poking around at the birds on his desk.
"I missed some?"
He nods. Sits on the edge of his bed, legs spread, leaning back to rest on his elbows. He's tired. Doesn't wanna sleep. Has missed you too much. "Fell a couple of weeks ago."
You pout. "I've missed the kids."
Jeongguk is soft as he says, "they missed you, too."
Looking at you now as you scan his room, party dress sparkling as the early morning sun intrudes on his room, he struggles to remember what life was like before he knew you.
And then he wonders if he'll ever forget what it felt like to fuck you.
He doesn't mean to think about you improperly - he's just in that god-awful state of post-drinking pleasure-seeking.
He's not even gonna deny it. He wants you.
There's a dilemma that comes with Jeongguk's desire: morals.
He's not sure how drunk Jiyeong was. Isn't sure how intentional she was with her threats. Doesn't know if she'll remember what she did, or if she'll even realise Jeongguk called it quits when she wakes up the next morning.
If he were to check his phone, he'd see that one of the personal trainers from the gym had tagged him in an insta story with the caption 'come get your girl, bro', and said girl necking on with some guy Jeongguk wouldn't be able to pick out from a crowd.
He doesn't check his phone, though. Regardless of everything, he was never her boyfriend. The way she treated him is exactly why he never asked. She burnt her bridges time and time again. Jeongguk doesn't care to rebuild them again, not when she never lends a hand.
It's not that he wants to be cruel. It's not that he never cared. Nothing like that at all.
But he is drunk, and he is single, and fuck it's so nice to be around someone that makes him feel as lovely as you do.
When he holds out his hands, you gravitate towards him. Stand between his legs. Look down at his pretty face, hands delicate beneath his jaw.
Jeon Jeongguk is gonna ruin your life, you think.
As his hands stoke up your bare thighs, and encourages you onto his lap without a single word?
Life, ruined. You're certain.
The way you do whatever he asks of you has you considering that maybe your life isn't even yours anymore. His. All his.
You know you shouldn't entertain this. The Jiyeong shit is too fresh. Hayun, too - but that only encourages you. You have what she wants. You'd like to keep it that way.
His grip on your waist is tight as he pulls you up his lap, the thick ridge of his bulge beneath you perfectly positioned to rut up against you.
There's hesitation to your movements; delicacy.
His are the opposite. Decisive. He knows what he wants - and as he uses his grip to push you further down onto his crotch, your soft whimpers let him know that you want it, too.
"Gguk," you whisper, heart beating so fast you're scared it might short circuit. He nudges his nose against yours. Nods. Could kiss you, if he wasn't behaving himself.
It's laughable, really, how he's humping himself up against you, and considers it 'good' because he isn't kissing you.
Your voice is barely audible when you say, "I hate my rules."
Jeongguk's jaw tenses. His eyes close, nostrils a little flared as he tries to control his breathing. Nudges his nose a little deeper against yours.
"Me too, B."
He despises them. Loathes them. Will never break them. No matter how hard is cock is and how difficult it is to think straight when he's suffocated by your hair. They're yours to break. Yours alone.
So while the admission makes him needy - gets him squeezing at your soft flesh, body grinding a little faster - he keeps his lips away. Kind of. There's a very small gap for you to close.
You could do it.
Could sink your lips down onto his, and experience what it's like to feel his moans vibrate into your mouth. Could let his tongue lick against yours. Could hold his jaw, lips hard and deliberate as they press against each other.
Could do a million little things. Your nipples are hard just from the thought of it all, and your thin lace bra hides nothing. Nor does your dress.
Jeongguk can feel them against his chest. Can't stop himself from tightly squeezing at them, his thumbs settling over your hardened bud. He rubs against them, knowing just how sensitive they are, even through your clothes, and is pleased when your breathing starts to get heavier.
A moan gets trapped in your throat, nails scratching against the nape of his neck. You're matching his movement, hips grinding against him.
You wonder how long it's been since he used someone else to relieve him. Find yourself worried it hasn't been long enough. Don't want him thinking about her while he's with you. It's not like you can control his mind, but then again, you're unaware of the catastrophic hold you have on him.
He takes a second to scan your eyes, and as much as you want to hold his gaze, you're distracted by his glitter. His cheeks, the rogue specks on his nose, his jaw... along the indent of his cupid's bow.
Jeongguk has enough experience with glitter-induced mindlessness, so knows that's what's happening - but he wants to check that you still want this. Still want him . It's been a while, and he knows the fact he'd been with someone else could hinder your desire for him.
Funny. He's not thinking about the fact you hooked up with Jimin at all. Couldn't give a shit about that.
All he can think about you, and your wants, your needs. Brushes a strand of hair away from your face, as he says, "if this is too weird, we can stop."
But you just shake your head, a soft smile on your pouty lips. He licks across his own.
"I've missed you," you admit all rather foolishly. Laugh, then cover your face with your hands. Jeongguk likes the rings you're wearing. Always the same three. Thin and dainty, they're as much a part of you as your glitter is.
His fingers wrap around your wrists, as he pulls them down. There's a little resistance from you, but eventually, you concede. Look at him a little helplessly, but are pleased to see him smiling.
"Missed you, too."
When you chirp a small hum in reply, Jeongguk laughs. Holds your waist again, stroking your sides ever so tenderly. Reassures you. "Of course I have. You know how much I like having you like this."
You narrow your eyes now, but it's playful. Feign a little offence, just to keep him smiling. "Have me like what exactly, Jeon?"
He rolls his eyes, but just pushes the hair that's covering your neck away from you. Leans a little closer, and presses a kiss into your skin. The contact of his lips, a little wet and torturously firm, has you sighing, hips pulling up. He encourages this. Grips onto your waist a little tighter. Pushes you down onto his crotch. Lets himself grind up against you once, twice, then husks against your neck, "Like this, B. Like you wanna get that pretty pussy of yours all messy for me."
He pulls back. Holds you tightly in place over his cock, of which he knows is embarrassingly hard. Sometimes he thinks all you have to do is glance in his direction to get him like this.
The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips parted ever so slightly - gets his hips pulsing again ever so gently. Your body moves with his, the sensation of his hardness beneath you making you feel a way that could only be compared to Nirvana.
You're the one who pulls him closer, now, a hand cradling his jaw, the other sinking into his hair. It's a control thing. Want him close, but can also pull him away. It excites him. Always does whenever you take the reins back from him.
As your grip tightens in his hair, his breathing shallows. Nose nudging against his, you know you're a little too close. Know you're being mean. Know how much he must be dying to close the gap, 'cause you are too.
"I do," you whisper back. "It's already messy."
"Hmm?" he moans an incoherent reply. Has his lips firmly pressed shut, cause he doesn't trust himself. Has closed his eyes, too. Can't risk it.
"Mhmm," you murmur back. "So messy, Koo."
The way you soften the sound of his name has him desperate to fuck himself into you. You're so soft, and tender, and everything he's been missing.
"For me?" He asks, because formulating words is the only way he can stay focused - but even that's failing him, now.
"All for you."
His cock throbs beneath you. He knows he must be messy, too, precum pooling from the tiny slit at the very tip of his cock. Hates that he's trapped in his clothes, but loves the idea of slowly getting you out of yours.
"All mine," he smiles to himself, lost in the way he feels. You nod. Giggle. Let your hair drape around his face as your forehead leans on his. He laughs, too.
You're both highly aware of the fact that this is wrong .
You shouldn't be acting like this. Shouldn't be feeling this.
But you are.
And you'll continue to do so until the night draws to its inevitable end.
"What should I do about it, then, huh?" Jeongguk asks, tilting his pretty face up a little bit. The glitter on his cheeks catches in the light of his bedside table. The room around you feels too big. You don't acknowledge it. Only him.
You're so quiet when you reply. Know that you're saying things you shouldn't be; tempting him like you're some kind of divine serpentine being. Jeongguk's got one trailing up his arm in thick black ink. He likes snakes. Likes you, more. Likes how delicate your voice is when you say, "clean it up."
One of his hands grips your ass. Squeezes. Hard. Makes you mewl.
"And how should I do that?" He asks softly, knowing that if he doesn't get some kind of release soon, the friction of your still-clothed pussy over the bulge in his trousers will end him. Write him off entirely. Might even make him die.
You could be demure in your answer. You could play coy. Stop this from escalating
Or you could continue grinding against him, breath laboured, heartbeat unstable. You could run your thumb along his bottom lip. Nudge your nose against his in that tender you always do.
And then you could simply say, "Eat me out."
"Yeah?" He would say. Would want you to repeat it.
"Yeah," you'd reply. "Eat me out. Please."
So that's exactly what you do.
Jeongguk's mouth waters at the mere suggestion of getting his tongue between your folds. Has thought about it so many times. Never thought he'd see the day that you ask for it.
The tiny 'please' you whisper? The way you beg for it? His cock aches. Needs relief from you.
You're finicky to a fault though. Smirk as you say, "Real shame the bird hasn't fallen, isn't it?"
There are a few birds on his desk, but none of them are that specific bird.
Of all the ones you wrote together, there's only been one that you've ever known the identity of as it watches over you.
There's a small mark on its wing. You'd been holding the pen between your teeth as you'd folded it, but been distracted by Jeongguk mumbling to himself. Had narrowly avoided leaving a blotch of ink on crisp white sheets.
Instead, you'd cursed a bird - and so for the past six months, you'd look up at birds and wonder when it would fall. It was the only one you felt apprehensive of, but that simply was down to fact you knew what it was.
"Maybe we can do an I.O.U. for the birds?" He offers. Is keen.
You know you shouldn't cherry-pick the birds. It goes against their free will. Playing God will only ever end in tears - but you're still tipsy, and all you can think about is how much you need this.
It's been so long since anyone has eaten you out that now the idea is floating, you won't be able to rest until it's happened.
His hands stroke up the back of your legs as you stand up on his bed. His head is level with the tops of your thighs, so he lets his lips brush against them. Presses wet kisses up them. Is slow. You take a little extra pulling the right bird down. Lean in such a way that he's dangerously close to your panties. He can smell your arousal. Wants to taste it.
You settle back into his lap, bodies close as you hand him the bird. He looks at you. Wonders if there's magic behind those starry eyes of yours. Thinks there must be.
When he opens it up, and is greeted with the exact same act you've asked him to perform, he knows there must be magic in you.
The truth of it all is that you'd just made a bad decision when you made it. Shouldn't have dropped the pen. But you did; and now you're here.
"Make me feel good," you implore as you toy with his hair.
He wants his lips on your body; wants to feel the pressure of his lips brushing against yours.
Just isn't brave enough to take things that far, yet.
He tucks a little bit of your own hair behind your ear. Studies your face.
"Look at me when you ask."
You're slow to do as he asks. Spend a little time toying with his necklaces, instead. You know his eyes are on yours. He could count your lashes if he wanted - but he doesn't. Mainly because he can't think straight, let alone count above the number ten.
"B," he encourages, index finger curling beneath your chin. He tilts your head upwards, your eyes trailing up his features until they settle on his eyes.
"Want you to make me feel good."
He nods. Is eager as he does so. It's so hard to not kiss you.
"I will. Gonna make you feel so good, Byeol. You want that? Want me to make your pussy feel good?"
You nod your head. Widen your eyes as you beg. "Please."
Jeongguk respositions you. Gets you sitting in his spot. Stands as he grabs his shirt by the nape of his neck and pulls it over his head. Chucks it at you. Makes you both laugh - but fuck. He's gorgeous .
He grips the bulge in the front of his trousers. Groans .
"See how hard you make me?" He asks. Waits for you to nod. Unbuttons his slacks and lowers the zip, so the top of his dark boxer briefs poke through. He palms at himself. Presses his lips together as a muffled grunt stifles in his throat.
The subtle movement of his muscles beneath his warm skin has you entranced. He's human, yes, but built like a God. Worshipping him feels like the only appropriate course of action - and yet as he guides you over and positions you how he likes it - face down, ass up - he's the one who's gonna be worshipping you.
Eyes closed, you smile into the scent of his sheets. Hadn't realised how much you missed how soft they always are; cotton fresh and a worthy home for the night. Of all the boys you've ever dated, not of them have cared in the same way that Jeongguk does about his laundry.
He's like that in all aspects of his life, though. Details. His senses. They align and overlap, and Jeongguk has to have things in a specific way, otherwise he isn't happy.
You confuse him, in that way. You're haphazard to a fault, and Jeongguk knows that glitter never really fit into his idea of what it takes to build a home, but he misses it being on his sheets.
He pushes your dress up, over your ass. Doesn't look at your satin-covered pussy 'cause he's trying to hold off. Grapples the flesh of your ass, then delivers a short, sharp spank. Likes the way you gasp, then sigh.
Doesn't like that he can't see the smile he knows is on your lips though.
It's all rather confusing. This is how he likes to do things.
And yet he finds himself getting you back into your original position. Walks over to his door. Checks it's locked.
Jeongguk turns around to look at you, eyes dark, his intentions perfectly clear.
He prowls a little closer. Taps on your knees and encourages you to open your legs. Not once does his gaze drop from your eyes. Not when your legs spread, not when he lowers himself, not when he can fucking smell your arousal. He wants to. Wants to look at your pretty little pussy so badly - but he'd locked in on your eyes.
His hands slide up your thighs, pushing your dress to your hips. Your underwear is black, and your wetness has seeped through - but he doesn't acknowledge it. Not yet.
He lowers his lips, but keeps his eyes on yours still, as he presses a wet kiss to your thigh. Up he odesseys; one, two, three kisses. A trail of evidence is left, little dewy marks mapping out his journey. He leans over. Repeats it on your other thigh.
One of his hands grips your waist, while the other strokes your thigh that's without his lips. He's taking his time. Keeping his eyes on you. Can see how your chest moves; knows that you're as desperate for this as he is. He licks his lips, and smirks.
"So patient," he husks, oh-so-affectionately. Squeezes the soft flesh of your thigh. Loves how you feel. So warm, and soft, and made for him. "Such a good girl for me, aren't you?"
You nod, a tiny whine catching on your lips.
"What was that?" He asks, before his eyes finally glance down towards your covered cunt. It's only supposed to be for a second, but he didn't anticipate quite how wet you'd already be; how it would be shining through the fabric of your panties. They're silky today, and it just makes your slick look even messier.
He inhales a deep breath, and lets out a shallow laugh as his head drops in defeat. Can't even play it cool. He wants you. Wants you more than he needs air to breathe.
It's just pheromones, and he knows this. Knows how gets when he likes a girl. Knows how fucking nasty he can get in pursuit of her scent. In the very worst cases, he finds himself enjoying feet . Underarms. Underwear. Anywhere that's gonna release them.
He always liked the smell of your perfume; the fragrances you'd layer over yourself to mask your natural scent - but it's 5am, and you've been in a club all evening. Your perfume has worn off. This is all you.
And he knows he's utterly screwed.
His lips trail up your thigh. Head tilts. It's his nose, now, that's making contact with your clothed cunt. He's slow. Tepid. Taking his time, 'cause he's thought about this during so many lonely nights and doesn't wanna waste it.
His nose rests against the fabric that's keeping you away from him. His perpetually dewy nose dampens as he nudges against you. He inhales. Is shaky, in the way that he breathes. "Fuck."
The pressure of his nose against you deepens. He groans. Mumbles some incoherent shit about how fucking good you smell. Presses his lips against the soaked satin. Kisses. Get his lips all glossy.
He kitten licks, then drags his tongue up your underwear. Knows he'll get so much more of your taste if he just takes them off, but he's scared. Worries that having your cunt in his mouth will ruin him for the rest of his life.
And so he continues taking his time. Uses his tongue. Teases where he thinks your clit could be. He's not too far off, but it's hidden by your folds that have swollen quite considerably. He's teasing too much. Getting you too needy. His thumb presses over the wettest part of your panties, where he knows your hole must be. The way the material gives just a little, and the way you sigh into his touch only proves this.
"Please," you whisper.
Jeongguk nods, not once losing contact with your cunt, until he slowly pulls back. Runs his fingers over your soaked panties. Studies the way they cling to you. Looks up at you as he gently massages you. Runs his index finger under the laces edge of your panties. "You want them off, B?"
The way you're looking at him - eyes all wide, lips pouty - has him desperate for you. You could ask him to spend eternity with his face buried in your cunt, and he thinks he would.
He taps the side of your thigh - "hips" - and encourages you to raise yourself. His fingers hook over the sides of your underwear.
"Dress," he says, indicating his desire for you to take that off too, now that you can. Is too busy staring at your cunt, and the way your slick juices string to your underwear as he pulls them down to even realise you're taking it off. Bra, too.
Jeongguk is tentative as he gets your panties off. Hold your feet as he slips your ankle through them, and repeats. Doesn't get rid of them immediately.
He's so fucking hard he thinks he might die - and it only gets worse when he brings your sopping wet panties to his nose. It's lewd . The way he inhales your scent is erotic to the point of it being perverse - but it has you leaking for him. His dark eyes fall open, and land on yours.
The material hooks over his fingers, as Jeongguk reaches over to squeeze one of your tits. He's missed them. Will scream 'I'm an ass guy' until the cows come home, but knows it's your nipples he'll be sucking on when you inevitably milk him of his cum a little later. Your panties drag over the hardened bud of your nipple as he toys with you. Smears your juices all over it. Glistens as Jeongguk sits up a little to bring your panties to your mouth.
"Wanna see how good you taste?" He asks, as if you aren't parting your lips for him regardless. You nod, all pathetic and needy as your tongue rests flat for him to do as he pleases - which, at the moment, is pushing your slick-covered panties into your mouth. Thinks they'll probably help. Will muffle your whines, at least. Works a treat as you whimper a little when he taps your jaw. 'Close your mouth', he's saying silently - and so you do.
He pulls back a little, fingers dipping to slide between your folds, eyes on your face, still. Smirks. Uses the fingers that aren't exploring your slippery cunt to squeeze at your chest. Your eyes are so wide. You whimper. He deliberately didn't stuff your underwear completely in your mouth. Likes seeing the satin. Likes knowing how willing you are to do anything for him. His thumb swipes over the slick on your nipple. Massages it in - and decides it's a waste. Leans down to latch his lips around your hardened bud.
He's the one whining now. Loves the way you feel in his mouth. Loves licking the taste from your skin. The fingers toying with your folds search for your slit, and push themselves into you as Jeongguk sucks on your nipple.
Not a boob guy, not a boob guy, not a boob guy - and yet as he pulls himself back, releasing you with a slight pop from the suction of his lips leaving your nipple, he smiles. Watches the way your tit wobbles, all soft, nipples hard, desperate for his return. He pushes his fingers deeper inside of you. Tells you how much he's missed them.
He reaches up to hook your panties in his fingers again. Pulls them from your mouth. Tosses them down. The way you're whimpering deserved to be heard, he decides.
His lips press a chaste kiss to your other nipple. Tongue flicks. He sucks. Just for a second. He's got places to be; a cunt plugged with his fingers that he's dying to taste again. Trailing down your skin, his lips leave a pretty dewy trail.
You hadn't been expecting the night to end like this, so while you're nice and neat and trimmed, your pussy is a little less bare than normal. Jeongguk likes it. Would never impose his preferences, but knows that this is it. Always has been. Enjoys the way your slick catches in your hair; how messy you look for him. Your juices string across your folds, and decides he can't keep his tongue away any longer.
The first lick is slow. Flat. He whines against you. Stalls his fingers, 'cause he wants to focus on the sensation; how warm you are, how delicious he thinks you taste. His tongue flicks as he reaches the northernmost point of your folds, and the way your body shudders a little is indication enough that he knows exactly where to focus. Of course he does. Your clit has swollen just as much as your folds, desperate for a little relief.
He doesn't give you it. Not yet. The lewd sounds of his fingers pushing back into your cunt makes him smirk. You're so unbelievably wet. Wetter than he thinks he's ever had you - and you've never been exactly dry for him. Maybe it's the alcohol. Maybe you've missed him. Maybe it's both. When his tongue presses back into your folds, you know it's neither of those things.
You're soaked because he just knows what he's doing. Understands your body. Drags his tongue up and down your cunt, fingers fucking themselves into you. The sensation is unbearable. You need more - and more is what he gives you when his spare hand eases your lips apart, spreading your pussy so that he can get better access to your clit. The tip of his tongue massages against you ever so gently. He's careful not to be too aggressive - until he spits at it.
"Shit," you whine, letting your back sink into his sheets. You'd been watching, but now all you want to do is feel . You're scared that watching him - his pretty lashes splayed over the top of his cheeks, his dewy, wet, nose nudging your clit, the way his tongue laps against it- will finish you off too quickly. And that's before you even consider the mirror on the far wall, and the way his broad back looks perfectly positioned with your legs hooked over his shoulders.
He spreads his spit with his thumb. Smirks as your body shudders. "You okay, B?"
"Mhmm," you mumble, teeth biting the pad of your palm beneath your thumb. You're trying to keep quiet.
"Asked you a question," he says as his thumb builds speed, flicking over you gently. He's careful, but controlled. Your body writhes from his touch, legs pushing down on his shoulders, encouraging his face back to where he belongs. He almost whispers as his lips ghost your clit. "Tell me you're okay. Chess is always an option."
Why the fuck you'd wanna play chess is beyond you - and then you remember. Oh, he's so attentive. So kind. So gentle. So deserving of a blowjob.
"I'm okay," you promise, and Jeongguk finally lets his lips wrap around your clit. There's a provocative nature to the way he lets himself get all breathless and grunty. His tongue licks tenderly against your clit, but his fingers have been going for so long he's scared he'll cramp.
The way you whimper when he pulls them out is like music to his ears. Needy and pathetic. Gets his cock all hard.
You loved being plugged by him. Love the fullness he gives you. Hate to lose it.
His hands push back your thighs now. He studies you. Watches the clear fluid leak from you. Knows that your pussy must be desperate for his cock. Doesn't want to let any go to waste, so quickly licks it up. Sinks his tongue into the entrance of your hole. Can't go too far, but doesn't care to. Just wants to tease. To taste you. Drink nectar straight from the source.
One of your hands clasps over his fingers by your thigh. The other tenderly scratches at his scalp. You love his hair like this, all messy and indicative of the fact he's been up to no good. As he pulls away from you, lips glossy, a string of slick briefly keeping him attached to you, lip ring coated in the very essence of you, you decide you never want another face between your legs again. He's too pretty. You'll always compare.
He looks up at you with total adoration, a lopsided grin on his face as you scratch behind his ear. He's well aware he must look like a fucking puppy dog, but he doesn't care.
"You're so good," you tell him. Want him to know. Smirk, because you're aware of the dog parallels, too. "Such a good boy."
That shouldn't make Jeongguk's cock twitch as much as it does.
The hand in his hair encourages him back down, and he decides to show you just how good he really can be. His tongue roams between your folds, licking, and lapping. He's fast, and he's intentional, lips pouting as they press kisses against you, and even more so when they suck your sensitive bud between them.
Eyes closed, hands in his hair, legs wrapping around his head, you think of how pretty he is; how unspoilt his features are. You've never seen a nose so perfectly sloped or a cupid's bow so idyllic. It's the perfect ridge for your juices to gather, and Jeongguk knows this. Already isn't looking forward to his shower, 'cause he doesn't wanna lose the scent of you.
His pace increases. Fingers sink back into you. He's taking you for all you're worth; will win your orgasm fair and square. Needs it. Thinks he'll die without it.
The sounds of Jeongguk eating your pussy echo into his room; his fingers pushing you to the point of no return as his tongue massages you to a hedonistic state of being. The pressure in the very pit of your tummy builds. Your grip on his hair tights. You curse. Whimper.
"Right there. Fuck . Right there."
He doesn't ease. Gets faster. Edges and edges until he can edge no further. The wave crashes over; your release dizzying and detrimental all in one blow. It jolts through you, legs shaking, hot walls clenching, breathless mewls of pleasure letting Jeongguk know just how well he did. He doesn't stop. Pushes you further. Gets you gasping.
"Gguk," you whimper. "I- Fuck."
He nods against you. Doesn't stop. Lets his nose nestle into your folds. Holds his tongue back, just to say, "this cunt... fuck ."
You giggle, now. Jeongguk feels you tightening as you do so. Eases his fingers from you. Keeps you spread apart. Wants to see how messy you are - but is cut short when you say, "c'mere."
He doesn't even think about it. Just discards himself of his clothes and comes to join you on his bed. Will do anything you ask of him. There's a silly little smile on his pussy-drenched lips as his head nestles next to yours, face still covered in glitter. He's so heavenly like this; so angelic when he's unmistakably yours.
You aren't really thinking as you move closer. Your natural inclination is to kiss him, for a job well done. You realise just in time. Stop yourself. Grin as you nudge your nose against his, not caring for the fact he's covered in your cunt.
He grins, too. Laughs a little. "Was that okay?"
You nod. Wanna kiss him so badly. Speak, just stop yourself. Echo a thought you've shared before. "You really should start an only fans."
He laughs again. It's hearty and wholesome, and pure - or as pure as it can be, when he's covered in evidence of making your pussy cum. Neither of you really care for cleaning up just yet. His smile is too big. Dimples too deep. Lines beneath his eyes too telling of his happiness. God, he's missed you.
"I'd be no good on my own," he tells you. "Would need you to help me out."
You protest. Tell him to buy one of those fake pussy fuck-toys. Says it's all he needs. He corrects you. Tells you they're fleshlights, but doesn't tell you he's got one hidden in the back of his drawer from a particularly dry spell.
"No, not those," you say. "I mean like, the full torso ones. The ones with tits."
"Why would I want one of them?" He smirks, as his hands are quite literally squeezing at your boobs. He's just keeping them warm. That's all. "Ass guy."
You don't even dignify him with a verbalised response. Just tilt your head down to where Jeongguk is rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers.
"What?" He feigns indifference.
"Your lies will catch up with you," you promise him. He pushes your tits up as far as he can, dipping down to suck delicately on your nipples. Just for a couple of seconds. Maybe five. Six. Okay, ten - but you feel so nice in his mouth, so soothing - and then it's twenty seconds. Thirty. Forty.
He switches nipples. Repeats. Pulls away. Is so hard he thinks he might cum prematurely if he doesn't get a release soon.
You've completely altered his sense of desire. Ruined him for anyone else. You'd argue you've made him better. Deep down, he'd know it to be true.
"Gguk?"
"Hmm?" he mumbles a little lazily against your skin.
You toy with his hair, raking your finger through his silky waves. Any product he had been wearing in it seems to be redundant now, your hands too busy messing with it for it to hold its shape. He had looked so pretty all night.
Looks prettiest, now.
"I'm sorry I stole your chance to have a New Year's kiss," you say, thinking of how many girls must have wanted him.
The smile on his face falters a little. He's quiet for a moment, then speaks with absolute sincerity. "Meant what I said. I've a whole year for kisses, B. They can wait. Wanted to be with you when New Year came in."
"I feel bad," you whisper.
"Don't." He opens his eyes, and sees how stark your self-imposed guilt is. Your hands are still toying with his hair, so he holds onto your wrists and rests the pad of his thumb in the palm of your hand. Is contented when your fingers close down on it. He shakes your hand a little, and smiles tenderly. "Don't. Really, B. Are you sad?" He asks. "That you didn't have one, I mean? Did you want one?"
Answers are complex when they're both yes and no; much like this one. You would have wanted one for the sake of enjoying a silly little tradition - but you didn't wanna kiss a stranger, and didn't want to kiss those close to you, either.
And so you deflect with a joke. "Why? Are you offering?"
Stupid joke. Stupid fuckin' joke .
Jeongguk knows it's a joke. Weighs up how he could respond. Sincerity seems too heavy. Joking back seems too careless.
And so he tries honesty.
"Yeah," he whispers. "I am."
His lips ghost yours, 'cause he'll never be the one to put pressure behind them first. He wants to. Is dying to.
Thinks, in classic Jeongguk style, that he'll die if can't do it one day soon.
The way you always get so close to him, suffocate him in your hair and the scent of your perfume, drives him mad. He's spent so many hours trying not to kiss you. Has never shared the taste of your tongue, but has shared oxygen with you. Thinks there's nothing to be scared of - but knows that you are.
He'll never ridicule your fears. Not intentionally.
And so he is patient, and perfectly restrained with you.
Some say it's a virtue.
Yet as you wish he'd just do it - rip the band aid - you can't help but think of it as a vice.
He'll never do you wrong. Sometimes you wish he would.
But that's the thing about wishes. There's no divine intervention from an arbitrary God. No stars changing alignment. The luck you manifest is yours and yours alone. Wishes come true because you will it to be that way.
Jeongguks grip on your waist tightens as your nose nudges deeper against his. There's a deliberate nature to your movements; how your hand rests on his jaw and how your leg hooks over his hip. The fluidity of your bodies together makes it so easy.
The grip on your waist is diverted to your ass. His fingers squeeze. Lips pout. Hips roll.
He husks your name. Not disco ball. Not Byeol. Your actual fucking name. Fucking whines against your lips. Can barely fuckin' breathe. "Please."
Your lips brush his. No pressure. Just aligning. Seeing how his lip ring feels. Jeongguk's semi begins to stiffen as he rubs himself against you again. His breathing is fucked.
Slowly - nervously, timidly - you slip your lips between his. Sink into the space left between them. Your bottom lip is plush between his. He doesn't press down. He waits. Waits and waits and waits. Has been waiting for months. What hurt will a few seconds do?
The hand you're resting on his jaw pulls him closer. Dictates his moves. This is all up to you.
The way your body nervously awaits the pressure you're refusing to apply is so telling. The delicate buds of your nipples that Jeongguk has grown to adore are hard against his bare chest. He's having to be careful as he rubs up against you, because your pussy is getting wetter and wetter. Coated in everything you are, Jeongguk's throbbing cock slides between your folds, massaging you in a way that you'll never grow tired of.
Jeongguk wants to speak; to encourage you.
Any words spoken would result in the closing of his lips and the removal of your ability to choose this - and so he stays quiet. Moans a little when the friction of his foreskin sliding back against your wet folds gets a little too good.
You smile. Like the way it feels. Can feel the slick build, then leak from the depths of your cunt. Know that you're one overly-eager rut away from him fucking himself into you.
Maybe you should pull away. Maybe you should let him fuck you instead.
But you've come so far.
You're safe. Warm. Content. With your favourite person in the whole entire world.
If you can't kiss him, then who the fuck can you kiss?
You still your hips. So does he. Deepen the position of your lips, until you know they can go no further. His nose is nestled next to yours, a shallow breath reminding you that life will go on - you'll still breathe - even if your lips close down on his.
He's always told you that he's not scared of you.
It's time to reciprocate that.
And so silently, as you press your lips down into his, you let go of a fear that's been holding you back for far too long.
It takes Jeongguk a moment to kiss you back. He wants to be sure you're sure.
But you are.
His lips slowly accept this new sensation; the softness of your bottom lip, the feeling of your nose as it nudges against his, the pining sensation that's so often left on his lips being remedied.
He's kissing you. Slowly, silently, serenely. It lasts for hours, but also for just a second. You're not sure which is more accurate as your lips naturally part for a moment; to breathe. To assess. To realign. To repeat.
He kisses you again. Once. Twice. Deeper, a third time. His hips begin to rut. His moans vibrate against you. The slipperiness of your pussy is juxtaposed to the innocence of such pure kisses. Lips still on his, you reach down to where your bodies are so well acquainted, it's like interrupting a conversation. Your nimble fingers wrap around Jeongguk's length. He moans. Wants to say something, but can't. Doesn't want to stop kissing you.
You move your hips. Line him up. Nod into the kiss. A hard breath exhales from his nose against your cheek, his whine echoing into your mouth as the tip of his cock penetrates your entrance. The fit is tight - snug - but so welcome. It's like coming home, he thinks.
"You're so fucking good," he whines into your lips, then presses down against them once more. "Such a good fuckin' girl for me."
He means it. You are good for him. Give him somewhere he belongs; somewhere he'll never feel alien. A girl full of galaxies, yet he's home no matter which cosmic entity you remind him of on any given day of the week.
You whine a little as his hips pulse up, pushing his dick into you. He's so big, and you're still so sensitive from how well he ate you out earlier, but you think you'd rather die than not see this through. You'll take the overstimulation, take whatever he'll give you, just to feel that fullness you only get from him.
Jeongguk grunts as he fucks himself into you. Gets breathless. Gets moany. Gets mean. Nasty.
"Gonna nut inside you," he tells you. You smirk against his lips. You love it when he gets all chatty and tells you all kinds of shit he never would if he wasn't on the brink of an orgasm. "God, I'm gonna fill your pussy up with my cum. Gonna fill you so well. Fill you forever."
That's not exactly how anatomy works and you go to tell him as such - but he changes position. Gets you on your back. Sits on his heels. Grips your waist with one hand, your chest with the other. Squeezes. Gets you whining. He pulses his hips slowly. Once. Fuck . Twice. Yes . And then he's back to a pace that feels more like him; fast and rough.
The sound of his skin slapping against yours is almost as loud as the breathless moans you can't be bothered to hide. He's making you feel so good as he pumps himself into you. It's only fair he knows just how well he's doing.
He squeezes at one of your boobs. Pinches your nipple. Pulls a little. Makes you moan. Does the same to the other side. Watches as they move from the momentum of his hips. Is fucking obsessed. Can't believe he wasted so many years convinced he was an ass guy. Loves your ass, granted, but fuck .
And when your hand sinks down to play with your clit while he's fucking his fat cock into your tight hole? God. Jeongguk thinks he might just die.
Tells you so.
"Gonna kill me off, you are."
You giggle. The way your pussy throbs around him? Yeah. Chances of death? Rapidly increasing.
"Feel good?" you check, just in case.
He nods. Wishes you could experience what it's like to fuck you; how good feel. How much he loves being trapped inside you. Makes his already desperate cock throb when he has those moments of clarity; he's fucking you. His cock? It's inside you. It's a simple thought process, but one that always overwhelms him.
Sinking down to suck on your nipples, tits in a white-knuckle death grip, Jeongguk knows if he thinks in any great depth, then that will be it. He'll cum. He wants this to last. Knows it can - but also knows your pussy is gonna make him cum so so soon.
So lost in his thoughts, he almost doesn't notice when you call his name. If it weren't for your hand cupping beneath his chin and pulling him down, he might not have realised at all. "Gguk?"
He follows your lead. Is about to sink his lips in yours when he replies, "Yeah, baby?"
He doesn't mean to call you that. Knows he absolutely should not have called you that. Kisses you again to distract from the fact he did. Ruts into you faster. Harder. Revels in the tightness of your walls, and the softness of your lips.
Knows he should check what you needed, but it was nothing, Just wanted him to look at you. But he'd called you baby. Oh, you're all sorts of fucked up. Try not to think about it. Your distraction method? A kiss . The waters are getting so muddy. This is so bad. Detrimental.
But fuck. He's close. So close. Doesn't wanna stop; any of it. Doesn't wanna stop fucking you. Doesn't wanna stop kissing you. God. He can't believe he can . Can't believe he knows what your moans sound like when they're vibrating into his mouth. Can barely wrap his head around the fact your tongue is in his mouth. He thinks he's going crazy. Thinks he might have already died. There's no way he can feel this at home inside another person's body.
But he does.
Knows that there's no pussy that's ever gotten him like this. Would be foolish to think you're the only person who will ever make him feel this way, but he quite enjoys playing the fool.
Jeongguk's skin is clammy. Sweat beads on his skin. Some of it catches on your skin as you move your hands from his back to cup his sharp jaw, and find yourself obsessed . Primitive desire, you think. Just like Jeongguk's obsession with your scent. All just survival of the fittest, built to breed, type shit. Of all the people he could fuck his sperm into, his body seems to think you'd be a good match. He trusts it. Agrees with it.
"Fucking me so well," you tell him. "Working so hard."
He nods, forehead resting in the crook of your neck. "Working so hard, B. Wanna make you feel good."
There are no words to articulate the way Jeongguk feels inside of you. No size grand enough, no adjective complimentary enough. No sensation even close to the euphoria that comes with being fucked by Jeon Jeongguk.
You press a tiny little kiss to his lips. "You do." And then you kiss him again. Deeper. Tug on his bottom lip with his teeth. Get him whining. His cock stalls. Left leg begins to shake. His right will follow, but it's always in that order. Left, then right. The way he whimpers into your mouth makes you wanna edge him for all of eternity - but he deserves this orgasm.
"Where should I- Fuck. Byeol, I'm there. I'm gonna- Fuck . Where do you want it?"
"Tits," you say without a second thought. You wanna watch him cum. Wanna see it. Wanna see how pretty his cock looks as his cum pulses out of it.
You hate how it feels when Jeongguk pulls out - how empty you are - but when he's shakily getting himself in position, jaw hanging slack, brows threaded together, lewd moans escaping his mouth as he wanks him over your tits, you know its worth it.
"That's it," you encourage. "All over my tits."
Jeongguk curses. Tightens the way he's straddling over you. Tugs at himself. Loses his fucking mind when your hand wraps around his. He lets go. It's all you; one hand around his shaft, the other softly playing with his balls. "Yeah. Yeah, Like that. Oh, fuck."
His legs shake; torso tenses. Has to grab onto his headboard just to keep himself from fucking keeling over. He's stimulated to a point he doesn't think he's reached before. Doesn't even feel like his body is his.
"Cumming," he mumbles. "I'm fucking cumming."
The way his cock twitches, balls tightening, is enough to confirm this. You keep going.
"All over my tits," you say again, just to really drive it home. "Good boy."
His whimpers are quiet as he unloads his cum onto you in thick, creamy spurts. You hold his cock against one of your tits, and let his spunk trail down them. A few more releases drip onto your skin. He sits up straighter. Looks at the mess. Wants to fuck you all over again.
He grips his still-hard cock and spanks it against your cum-covered tits. Massages his leaky head against them; rubs his cum into your skin. Lets go of his cock. Grips your tits instead. Pushes them both together, and watches as his cum smears all over them. Squeezes your nipples. Wants them in his mouth. Moves a little down the bed, and positions himself beside you. Encourages you to face him as his tongue licks against your cummy chest. He circles around your nipple. Takes it in his mouth. Sucks. One of his hands grips your other boob. Holds it close to his face so he can switch between your nipples, of which he does. Sucks for a moment or so. Teases with his tongue. Then switches. It's a back and forth that has you going insane.
And when his spare hand dips down to play with your folds? Sinks a finger back into your soaked cunt? Heaven. He fucks a second finger into you. A third. Keeps his lips suctioned around your nipples, utterly obsessed with the way it feels to have them in his mouth.
He's a little careless with his fingers, but it's exactly what you need to come undone again. You need it rough. Need him to override the overstimulation you're fighting. It doesn't take long. Your body writhes, but he keeps you close. Doesn't bother talking you through it. You both know it's his tongue against your sensitive nipples that's working the magic. Words would be wasted.
Your orgasm hits you hard. Fast. It waves over you so violently that you almost kick him. Jeongguk smirks as he begins to feel your orgasm contract around his fingers.
Your wetness seeps from you, Jeongguk still plugging your pussy. Your muscles are tight in a way he doesn't think he's experienced before. Your climax is violent. All consuming. You have to bite his pillow just to stop yourself from screaming.
It's never felt like this before. He doesn't relent. Is obsessed. It's so much wetter than usual. Your whimpers are different, too. The way your legs shake? The way you can't fucking breathe? How your pussy is quite literally clamping his fingers inside of you? It's all different. It's so much more than an orgasm.
He's never taken you this far beyond the point of a climax. Didn't know you could do this. Has only ever seen it in fucking porn. Sort of thought it was a myth - but you're squirting for him. Because of him. On him.
He will die, and you absolutely will be the cause of it.
"Fuck, B," Jeongguk curses against your lips as he realises what's happening. Keeps going. Fucks his fingers into you, still. His hand is getting wetter, still . You shake, still ; squirt, still . Jeongguk's gonna fuckin' die. That's all he can think about. Death, and pussy. His, and yours. Hell, and heaven. "That's it. Squirt for me, B. Such a good girl."
You nod, almost delirious from the pleasure he's administering. His fingers fuck into you still, your pussy contracting around him.
Eyes closed, teeth pressing down on your bottom lip, you can't think of anything except the sensation of your pussy giving itself up for him. The wave of pleasure was so intense that you hadn't noticed your release at first; not until the lewd sounds of his fingers inside of you became louder, and Jeongguk himself had realised.
You don't even really have grasp on the fact it happened. Knew that it could, but you've been the only person to ever get yourself that far. Never has someone else ever made you squirt. You don't think you ever really trusted anyone enough with your body to give it up entirely.
But Jeongguk is Jeongguk. There's nothing to be scared of.
"Koo," you whimper as you finally get some control over yourself, body jolting from the intensity of it all.
He's slow to withdraw his fingers. Doesn't want to, but also knows he has to be gentle.
"I know, baby," he husks a little breathlessly, as he presses a kiss into your shaky lips. "I know."
In all honesty, he doesn't know. Doesn't have a clue what you could possibly be thinking. Just knows he's feeling all sorts of fucked up, and that you probably are, too.
It's been a long night. You've both been through it.
But you both feel overwhelmingly at ease.
"Sorry," he whispers. Presses a kiss against your hair.
"Mhmm?" You question, still deliriously spent. There's so much to do. Sheets to change. Showers to be had. You just wanna laze with him a little while longer. "What for?"
Jeongguk holds you close. Doesn't wanna lose this, either. He knows how you get once the morning comes and regrets start creeping in. He's doing damage control early. Letting you know that it's okay.
"I broke your rules," he says, as if you weren't a willing participant.
You shake your head. You kissed him first. Kissed him when he called you baby. Rewarded him for his misdemeanours. Of course he'd be a repeat offender. You're just as much to blame.
"Don't do that."
"Apologise?"
"Don't put all the blame on you. It's not," you say, before leaning up to steal an ever-so-sacred kiss from his lips. "There. I did it. I broke them. My fault."
"B-"
"If you try and apologise I'm gonna think you regret it," you tell him.
Jeongguk shuts up. Plans to remain silent. Can't help himself, though. Thinks it's important you know how he feels about you, and the birds, and this whole fuckin' mess.
"I've never regretted a thing we've done, B. Never."
His tone consumes you. Is so serious. So sincere. It makes you nervous - so you deflect.
"What about that time we accidentally ordered the extra spicy tteokbokki?"
He smiles. Laughs. Is serene as he eases up. "Okay. One regret."
You kiss him. Lips soft. Touch tender. Just 'cause you can. Just 'cause you wanna.
Have resigned yourself to the fact this is one-night-only kind of thing; that come the next morning, you'll laugh about it.
'Can you believe we kissed?' 'Let's never do that again.' 'So weird.' 'Just a friendly kiss. Sort of like kissing a fish, actually.' 'I'm gonna sew your mouth shut one day.'
And so for now, as Jeongguk encourages you up - "c'mon. Shower. You get in. I'll sort the sheets. Will join you in a second, okay?" - and kisses you again before you leave, you revel in it.
You stand alone under the crashing water, wondering what the fuck you've just done. Contemplating how badly this will all end up biting you in the arse.
Jeongguk does much the same. Looks at himself in the mirror; naked and alone. Can see evidence of you all over his skin - scratch marks, pretty purple bouquets delivered by your lips, the sheen of your slick - and decides he likes himself better this way. Doesn't think he'll look like himself when it's all washed away.
He makes up his bed. Puts a fresh sheet down, and tosses the old one by his door, ready for a wash. Goes to chuck his pillows on the floor - and then just doesn't. If you want the space, he'll give you it, no questions asked. He doesn't want the space, though. Wants you in his bed again. Wants you close.
And as he comes to join you in the shower, a protective arm slinking around your waist, lips pressed into your neck, you know that you don't want to be alone. Not for the rest of the night, at least. The glitter might wash away, but this feeling? He's not certain.
You're not sure that waking up beside him will be sensible for your fragile heart, but can't stand the idea of not falling asleep beside him. He's so warm. It's the smart thing to do. Will save on his heating bill.
A good decision, you think.
But since when have you ever been good at those?
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AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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alotofpockets · 1 day
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Mother's Day surprise | Caitlin Foord x Reader
Where you use Mother's Day as a disguise for a different kind of surprise
Woso masterlist | Words: 1.3k
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“Hey baby,” You greet your girlfriend in the bathroom, while hugging her from behind. She was getting ready for an Arsenal morning training session. After placing a few soft kisses onto her shoulder you continue your sentence, “I’m off to run some errands, do you need something from the store?” 
Caitlin turns around in your hold,  “Could you get some more of those protein bars you got last time?” You smile and nod, feeling accomplished on finding something new that your girlfriend loves. She pecks your lips and puts her arms around your shoulders, bringing you in for a hug. 
“Oh, and don’t forget our Mother’s Day facetime call with my mom at two!” She says as you step out into the hallway. “I’ll be there. I should be back home before you are.”
You make a quick stop at the grocery store to get Caitlin the protein bars she asked for, before you drive to the airport. Technically you were running errands, so you didn’t lie, it’s just that the errand was to pick up her mom, sister, and her sister’s fiancée from the airport. 
Jamie notices you first, and runs up to hug you. “It’s been too long!” Renae is close behind and joins in on the hug. Lastly Simone arrives by your side, she goes in for a big hug as well. “Thank you so much for flying us out here, it really means the world, darling.” 
When everyone’s baggage is in your trunk and the Foord family is situated in your car, you make the drive back to your home. “So, how is my future daughter in law doing?” Simone asks you from the passenger seat. “Simone, you know she has to say yes first, right?” You chuckle. “I do, but Cait would be a fool to say no.” 
The rest of the drive you catch up with your girlfriend’s family. Back at your home they all plop down on the couch, exhausted from the long flight. You get everyone something to drink, but they are way more interested to see the ring you had picked out. Jamie had helped you pick it out, but she thought it was even more beautiful in person. 
When you hear Caitlin’s car pull up, you quickly hide the box, and walk towards the door. “Hi love, I missed you.” She says and immediately falls into your arms. “Hi baby, I missed you too.” You peck her lips and close the door behind her. “Can you close your eyes? I have a surprise for you.” 
She closes her eyes and lets you guide her to the living room. “What is it? Did you find me another flavour of those delicious bars?” She was really too pure for this world, the little things meant so much to Caitlin. “I think you’ll like this better than a protein bar, baby. Open your eyes and see for yourself.” 
Caitlin opens her eyes, and her mouth falls open in shock at the surprise in front of her. “Wait, what? What are you guys doing here?” She stares at the trio in front of her, overcome by emotions she runs into her mom’s arms with teary eyes. 
“Y/n flew us out here for Mother’s Day.” After hugging both Jamie and Renae as well, Caitlin turns to you. “Thank you so much, you are the best. This is so amazing.”
You hang out with her family in the living room for a bit longer while Caitlin takes a quick shower, before you’d all head over to a nearby restaurant for lunch. 
After lunch you suggest going for a stroll around town, having the travelling trio as an excuse to hide behind. With them having sat in a plane for so long, and then making them sit in a restaurant, giving them the opportunity to stretch their legs seemed logical. 
Caitlin had no idea you were leading everyone towards the spot you were planning to propose to her. The spot you had gone to every couple of days for the past few months. The spot you had arranged for a professional photographer to meet you at. The sport where you would ask one of the most important questions of your life. 
You grew more nervous by the minute, as you walked up the path you had walked so many times recently. Caitlin was too busy into conversation to notice your nerves, but Jamie noticed and walked in step with you. Jamie knew exactly how you felt, having experienced the same nerves that you were feeling when she proposed to Renae. She puts her arm around your shoulder and gives you a quick squeeze, “You’ve got this.” She whispered into your ear.
One more corner and there would be a lookout spot over the pond you were walking past. You relaxed a bit, when you saw that there were no people at the look out spot currently. You apparently knew your girlfriend better than you thought you did, ‘cause when Caitlin’s eyes fell on the lookout she instantly dropped the conversation with her mom and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards it. “This is such a pretty spot! Jamie, can you please take our picture?” Instead of taking a picture, Jamie started filming, aware of the photographer hidden away. 
“You should do one where you’re looking out over the pond, it would be so cute.” Renae suggested, winking your way when Caitlin had turned around. This was it, this was the moment. You look out over the pond together, but after a few seconds you turn towards Caitlin, and get down on one knee. The box taken out of your pocket seconds ago, now open towards her, waiting for her to notice. 
Your heart was beating a million miles an hour, as Caitlin turned your way. The moment she realises what is happening, she gets teary eyes. “Caitlin Jade Foord, you are an incredible person, and you have been my rock over the years. I love you so much, and I cannot see my future without you in it. Will you make me the happiest girl in the world and marry me?” 
Cailtin started nodding her head midway through your sentence and once you finished your question she voiced the answer that went along with her head movements. “Yes! A thousand times yes!” 
After putting the ring on her finger, she pulls you up and brings you in for a hug. You were living in your own world, not even having noticed Jamie stepping to the side, and the cameraman moving forward. Together they captured every moment. From the proposal itself, to breaking apart from the hug, to sharing a kiss, to Caitlin properly looking at the ring for the first time. 
She turns around to her family with a big smile on her face. “Wait, they knew. You flew them in for this, didn’t you?” You nod, “I mean I would’ve flown them in just for Mother’s Day too, but I know how much you love your family, and I didn’t want them to miss this.” Caitlin hugs you again, before pulling you towards them.
You share some hugs with them while they congratulate the both of you, before you take a few more engagement pictures showing off the ring.
It’s crazy to think that Caitlin was your fiancée now. You couldn’t stop looking at the ring for the rest of the walk back home. The rest of the day was filled with joy and happiness, together with your fiancée and her family. 
-----
caitlinfoord and y/n_y/l/n posted
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caitlinfoord: I still can't believe this is real. So ready to marry you, and spend the rest of our lives together💍❤️
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hippolotamus · 1 day
Text
thought i planned for everything (just didn’t count on you) | 1.6k | E (BuckTommy)
Earlier today I promised my wife @bidisasterevankinard an incentive for studying in exchange for making her think about too many WIP ideas. Since husband @diazsdimples is also going through it with schooling, this is for both of you 😘 ps: idk anything about what certs and licenses and stuff Tommy would need. Just roll with it and be nice, yeah? Also, this is unbeta’d so if you see any mistakes, no you don’t.
Tommy scrubs at his forehead, blowing out a frustrated breath. He’s looked at the material in front of him for months now, determined to ace his recertifications. And it had been going well. Really well, in fact. He had a study schedule mapped out, accounting for his shifts and time with friends. He even left a small margin for the unexpected. There was just one factor he hadn’t accounted for. Evan.
The past few years of dating haven’t exactly gone anywhere serious. Some casual dates, one that he thought could go the distance but only broke his heart. So the expectation of having that feeling again? Of having someone thoughtful and caring, who gives him butterflies and makes him want things? Pretty much zero.
But then a hurricane happened. Actual and metaphorical. It tore through his life, upending the idea that love – or anything close to it – just wasn’t in the cards for him. And when everything settled, there was Evan. Evan, who asks how his shift was, tells him when he gets back from a call, and turns a pretty shade of pink as he blushes and says ‘I missed you’.
Tommy doesn’t regret any of it, but he does wish the universe’s cosmic timing could’ve held off just a little longer. At least until the state of California tells him what he already knows and says he’s fit to pilot an aircraft.
A knock on the door gets his attention, but he seriously contemplates ignoring it. He didn’t order anything and he doesn’t have plans. Unfortunately, the first responder in him can’t help wondering if one of his elderly neighbors needs something.
Fine. He sets down the pen he’s been chewing on and reminds himself it’s been too long since he stood up and walked around anyway.
“Evan?” Tommy asks, surprised to see him standing there. He instinctively looks him up and down for obvious injuries or signs of distress, but finds nothing. Only his gorgeous boyfriend, smiling coyly. “I didn’t forget about a date, did I?”
“No, uh, nothing like that. Because you are supposed to be studying.” Evan raises one eyebrow like Tommy is in the wrong for answering his own door after somehow manifesting Evan’s presence.
“And yet here you are.”
“Here I am,” Evan says shyly. “I know I’ve been taking a lot of your time lately and wanted to help.”
For the first time, Tommy notices Evan’s got his hands behind his back and wonders what his definition of ‘help’ is. He’s dressed down, soft and adorable in a hoodie and joggers, so it’s unlikely to be a booty call. Though not completely out of the question. And not that Tommy would complain either.
“Did you bring flashcards or something?”
“As a matter of fact…” Evan steps over the threshold, past Tommy, like he owns the place. While shy, demure Evan is a favorite, confident Evan is by no means a turn off. Especially as he whirls around and proudly holds up a set of blue, yellow and pink index cards. “I did.”
“Evan-”
“A few nights, when I couldn’t sleep, I might have taken some notes of my own. And, like I said, thought I could make myself useful for my hot, pilot boyfriend.” He rocks up on his tiptoes, capturing Tommy’s lips for a chaste kiss before he meanders to the kitchen.
Tommy pushes the door closed, following Evan where he lays the cards down on the table, opposite the books and manuals Tommy has scattered. Evan walks to the cabinets and helps himself to a glass, filling it with water before returning. Next he makes himself comfortable in a chair, sitting slightly back with his legs spread apart.
“So, can I help?”
There’s a glimmer of mischief in the way Evan looks at him now that has his heart racing. Like helping is the last thing Evan plans to do.
Tommy gathers himself enough to sit down in his own seat and flashes Evan a confident smirk.
“Do your worst, kid.”
“I’ll start with an easy one. What is the atmospheric gas composition?”
“Twenty-one percent oxygen, seventy-eight percent nitrogen, one percent other,” Tommy rattles off.
“Well done.” Evan flicks the card down then casually leans over to untie one shoe and slip it off.
“What are you-”
Evan clicks his tongue, tutting in fake admonishment. “Can’t tell you all my secrets, baby. Next question. Each one hundred meter climb in elevation causes a temperature drop of what?”
“One degree Celsius.”
Evan simply grins and removes his other shoe, leaving him in socked feet. Tommy would be lying if he said his dick wasn’t taking interest now that he’s caught on to Evan’s game. It is thoroughly unhelpful.
“PAIP should be implemented how many minutes after an aircraft fails to give its position report or is overdue for arrival?”
“Fifteen. Got anything harder for me?”
Evan’s tongue darts out, licking along his lower lip. “Oh, you bet I do.”
Tommy takes a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure and think about… anything except bending Evan over the table. If only it was that simple.
They repeat the process, volleying questions and answers back and forth until Evan’s stripped down to his boxers, his cock obviously hard and leaking beneath the tented fabric. It’s distracting as hell and Tommy doesn’t know how he’s supposed to concentrate.
“Come on, old man,” Evan teases, palming himself lazily. “Lives are on the line here. You need to be able to think under tense conditions.”
“You’re such a brat.” Tommy’s jeans press uncomfortably on his own straining erection and he doesn’t bother to stop himself from mirroring Evan’s movements.
“Yeah, but I’m your brat.” Evan applies more pressure, letting out an obscene moan as he strokes himself. “Or I could be – ahh – if you get this – mmph – question right.”
“Fuck, Evan.” Tommy undoes his belt and zipper, creating the tiniest bit of relief.
“That’s the idea. Even – oh, fuck – wore the new plug I told you about.”
Christ, Evan’s gonna kill him before they get the chance to see this all play out. And that’s unacceptable.
“Don’t stop,” Tommy orders, stalking off to grab the lube stashed in the couch cushions. When he returns, Evan is still stroking himself exactly like he was instructed. “Good boy, Evan. Doing what I told you.”
Tommy grips his chin and crashes their mouths together in a filthy kiss, delighted as Evan makes the most beautiful whine.
“But, you – ah – didn’t answer me,” Evan protests when they separate.
“Myoglobin.” He leans close to Evan’s ear, nipping at the lobe. “Lesson’s over, kid. Face down over the table. Naked. Now.”
Evan nearly trips over himself, leaping up from his chair and shoving his boxers down. He drapes himself over the piles of papers and index cards, wiggling his ass like he’ll die if he has to go one more second without being fucked.
“Gotta say, I like your methods,” Tommy murmurs, starting to work the plug in and out, tracing his other hand along Evan’s bare skin. “But now I think it’s time for your reward. Don’t you, sweetheart?”
“Yeah, yes. Please.”
“So desperate, my Evan,” Tommy coos. “Thought you would be in control, getting me all worked up. And here you are, laid out so gorgeously for me, just begging for it.”
Tommy pulls the plug out completely, discarding it to the floor. Evan keens and clenches around nothing, just waiting to be full again.
“Don’t worry, baby. I got you.” Tommy shoves his jeans and boxers down to his thighs. He slicks himself up with the lube and smears a generous amount on his fingers, fucking them in and out of Evan’s hole. Just enough to ease the way.
“Tommy,” Evan pants, practically crying when he pulls out.
He lines himself up, gripping Evan’s hips and pushing in without additional warning. He doesn’t pause for adjustments before he sets a relentless pace. It’s unlikely either of them are going to last, but he’s not going for longevity here.
Evan curls his hands around the edges of the table, leveraging it to fuck himself back against Tommy’s cock. It’s stunning and breathtaking, the rhythm they’re creating. A symphony of moans, squelches and skin against skin.
Soon the familiar heat pools in his belly, bringing him closer to the edge.
“Ohfuuuuck,” Evan moans, purposely tightening around him.
Tommy digs his fingertips into Evan’s sides, the world around him being reduced to static and white noise as he comes, filling Evan up. He thinks he might shout Evan’s name, but he’s not really sure, nor does he really care as he slumps forward, draping himself across Evan’s glistening skin.
“Gimmeasec,” he mumbles. “I’ll take careayou.”
“No need,” Evan murmurs back. “All good.”
Tommy presses a lazy kiss to Evan’s spine, enjoying the resulting small shudder. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
He kisses another ridge, and another, before answering. “For taking notes. For caring. Wanting to help out. For being you.”
“It wasn’t too much?” Evan whispers, hesitantly.
“Never,” Tommy assures him, dropping gentle kisses over his neck and shoulders, mindful of the mess forming between them as he maneuvers to properly reach. “Never too much, baby.”
He bites back words that are too early to say, even if he definitely feels them. Has felt them building in his chest, creating a near endless chant. He wonders how long he’ll be able to smother them before they burst forth. Hopefully long enough. Enough for Evan to feel them, too. For Evan to want to stay.
“Clean up and nap?” Tommy asks instead.
“Sounds good. Earned it.”
Tommy huffs an amused sound against Evan’s skin before pressing one last kiss there. God, I hope so, kid.
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mustainegf · 2 days
Note
Can you do a step dad/current! James Hetfield smut??its fine if you can't I completely understand!!(srry if its so short I was in a rush!!)
this is actually so good and I had so much fun writing!!
❕ FEMALE CHARACTER IS 18+ ❕
WARNINGS: use of “daddy”, use of “princess”, stepdad x daughter, Reader is 18+, oral m & f receiving, unprotected sex, creampie
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My breaths came out quick and hoarse, my fingers disappearing inside of me over and over.
I was so turned on by my new stepdad, but I couldn't do anything about it since he had just moved in a few months ago.
He was in his fifties or sixties and looked hot as hell with his broad shoulders and muscles. He had this sexy silver-grey hair that made him look more attractive than ever.
He was also very tall, almost towering over me. I kinda avoided him so he wouldn't sense how horny I'd get in his presence.
I continued to work at myself, imagining his cock inside me instead. I whimpered out. "J-James!"
I was home alone so It didn't matter.
I wanted to feel him inside me so bad. I didn't care if he was with mom, I wanted him to hold me down and fuck me as hard as he could.
Being alone, I didn't try to filter my vulgar noises; letting them spill out into the quiet room. "Daddy! Daddy, just like that!" I whined.
I rubbed my clit fiercely, just picturing his face.
"Daddy, I'm gonna cum!" I shook.
But before I could feel that sweet release, the sound of someone clearing their throat echoed from my doorway.
I gasped, and tugged my blanket up to cover me, my eyes darting to the doorway where the tall man stood.
Leaning agaisnt my door frame, a grin plastered over his face, was James, my fucking stepdad.
"Oh my god," I stuttered, my cheeks heating. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear you come in." I tried to act cool even though I knew I wasn't.
He took a step forward. "You were really enjoying yourself there." My blush deepened as I stared at the ground.
I didn't respond I was far too mortified. James sat up and stepped into the room.
"Look at me," he said softly. I met his gaze. His eyes glittered with mischief and desire.
"I'm not going to judge you, sweetheart. I see it all the time when I look at you. You are always so hot and bothered around me."
Hidden by the blanket, I couldn't help but apply a small bit of pressure to my clit. "I could hear you saying my name.." James whispered.
"How often to you masturbate to me, honey?" He continued, ghosting his fingers under my chin.
"E-Every single night," I admitted.
“That makes me so happy, sweetheart. Are you gonna quit playing games with me? Tell me what you want." He stated calmly, lifting the corner of the blanket to uncover my wet panties that cling to my body.
"Y-you.. James." I whined as his fingers brushed last the damp fabric.
"Don't call me that honey," he said under his breath, staring me down as his fingers toyed with me.
He shoved the blanket aside, kneeling in bed ahead of me, looking down at me. "Speak up, baby."
"If you don't say what I know you want to, then maybe I should just leave.." he taunted, setting his hands on my knees.
"Daddy, please!" I whined.
He grinned as I gave him what he wanted, his hands spreading my legs apart. I was terrified to do something like this with my stepdad, but It was all I wanted
I needed it. And I trusted him enough to let him have his way with me. A strong hand gripped me by the thigh, bringing me closer to the edge.
"I think about touching this pretty pussy all the time, Princess." He hummed.
The air grew thick between us as he leaned in closer. My chest heaving with rapid breaths, I nodded. "Yes, Daddy. Please!" I moaned. My eyes widened in surprise when he grabbed my ankle and dragged me toward him.
He grabbed my panties tugging them down my legs and illiciting a breathy gasp from me.
"You are so beautiful," he praised. "Thank you, Daddy," I whispered. "I have never seen anyone look as sexy as you do right now."
He said, his voice husky. "Your pussy is glistening. So perfect, just like I thought." He rubbed his thumb against my clit, making me cry out.
"Hmm. Maybe I should start here," he murmured, kissing my inner thigh.
"Is that okay?" He asked. I bit my lip, nodding.
"Whatever you want, Daddy." I breathed. His fingers skimmed over my legs, dipping into the valley of my hips. "Such a good girl for your daddy."
He cooed, kissing my lower stomach before licking his way down until his tongue was lapping up every drop of my juices. "Mmm..." He groaned.
"You taste delicious, little princess. "
He paused. Lifting his head, his Light blue eyes fixed on mine. The look on his face told me he meant every word.
This was one of the hottest things I'd ever witnessed. I loved it.
“Keep going, Angel. Your daddy wants you to cum so hard you can't walk tomorrow." My eyes rolled back as I came undone.
His tongue was ruthless. I felt him swallow every ounce of my orgasm down. I cried out as my body tightened, he licked me clean. I lay there, spent, my heart thumping wildly against my chest.
"Now it's your turn missy.." he leaned upright and towards me. "I want you to suck me off," he growled in my ear.
I could hardly wrap my head around the fact that my stepdad wanted me to suck his dick. I loved it.
James switched places with me, tugging off his shirt.
I admired his stalkish build, and the slightly faded tattoos that lay beneath the thin layer of silver hairs on his chest.
"Don't be shy, honey," he cooed, helping me undo his jeans and tug them down.
He kicked off his jeans, leaving him only in his boxer briefs. I could easily see the huge bulge that strained beneath the fabric. Fuck.
"Take 'em off baby, you're a big girl," he taunted, nudging his hips just slightly.
With a gulp, I reached for the waistband of his underwear, slowly tugging them down.
The moment they passed his ankles, I gasped. God, he was massive. He watched me, chuckling under his breath.
"What did I tell you, baby?" he asked with a smirk. I stared at his cock, licking my lips. I had never seen anything quite like it. My stepdad was seriously well endowed.
It looked so smooth and soft, the head swollen.
James eyed me as he gripped the base, waiting for me to put my mouth to use.
"Suck it, babe. Show me you mean it." I moved to straddle him, taking his cock into my hand. It was a bit thicker than I thought it would be, and it was longer too.
I had known he was hung, but seeing it first hand was crazy. There was so much of it to grasp onto. I hesitated before putting it in my mouth. No turning back now.
Gripping it firmly, I slid the length of it into my mouth. Fuck, it tasted so good. I got lost in the flavor. The vein running along the side of it was silky, yet rough. The tip was sensitive and made me salivate.
Leaning forward, I swallowed his length and let my tongue lick over the sensitive tip. "Fuck, princess," he grunted. "You're such a good girl." He murmured, petting my hair. A shiver ran through me at his words. "Such a dirty girl, sucking your stepdads cock."
He moaned. I bobbed up and down, loving how it felt in my mouth. I was able to fit a lot of it in. "So good," he breathed. The feel of him in my mouth caused me to get wetter. My clit throbbed, demanding attention.
If I had been standing, I would have fallen. I sucked harder, moving my head faster. I loved how my stepdad was using his free hand to play with my breasts, tweaking my nipples.
They were so sensitive. "Just like that, babe," he encouraged. I looked up, locking eyes with him.
His eyes were closed as he rocked into my mouth, driving deeper.
Ohhh, my god. I loved everything about it. How he felt in my mouth, the taste of him. James was truly the best. He was good at everything. In my eyes, there was nothing better.
"That's it princess, bouta make me cum..." he groaned.
I bobbed my head faster, letting my saliva drip down his length each time. James gripped the back of my head, shoving me down further as I gagged.
I didn't Protest this though, I wanted to do anything to make him cum.
"Right there, right there, fuck..." James panted, still forcing me down, I could feel him swelling in my mouth.
I moaned around his cock, holding it tightly in my throat. "That's it, baby," he grunted. "Swallow my cum, Princess." I could feel his balls tighten. He was close.
His hands were in my hair again, pulling me up. I kept his cock deep in my throat, milking him. His body shook. "Fuuuuck!" He shouted. He filled my mouth. He came so much. So much I started to gag, choking on his cum.
"Good girl, good girl, you're such a good girl," he babbled, petting my hair, stroking me until I stopped coughing. I milked him until he finished emptying himself down my throat.
"Daddy.." I whispered, my throat finally free as he pulled his dick out.
"I can see that look in your eye, baby. You want me to be inside you, honey?" He cooed, brushing his thumb over my cheek.
"Please, please daddy.." I begged, crawling into his lap.
"So eager, aren't you princess?" He smiled, giving his cock a few pumps.
I grabbed his face, locking my lips with his for the first time. It was an odd concept; kissing my stepdad, but it felt right. And so good.
He kissed me right back, tongue forcing its way into my mouth.
I groaned, opening wider to allow him access. My stepdad was so hot. I couldn't imagine being without him. I just wanted to be with him forever.
James broke the kiss, looking me in the eyes.
"How bad do you want daddy to fuck you?" He hissed soflty, my body suddenly filled with the sensation of him running the tip through my folds.
My breath caught in my throat. "Bad," I moaned.
"Very bad." He chuckled. "You better not scream too loud, princess. I don't want anyone to hear you."
I rocked my hips on the pressure of his cock. I was a little worried that he wouldn't fit inside me, I'd only had sex once or twice. Him on the other hand was extremely experienced, not to mention huge.
I didn't want to embarrass myself by not being able to take him. But I couldn't go any longer without feeling him inside me. I needed him. Desperately.
"Daddy, please.." I whimpered, my neck twitching.
He ran his hand up and down my spine, then trailed it down my ass, pushing my legs farther open. "Hmm, what's that baby?" He purred, sliding the tip inside me.
I squirmed at the sudden penetration, gripping his shoulders as I whined loudly. James' hands gripped my hips gently, holding me in place.
"Tell me what you want, baby," he urged. "I need to hear the words, princess. Don't make me stop." I looked up at him, meeting his stare.
"I want you, Daddy. I need you. Please."
I whimpered, wiggling my hips against his. He chuckled lowly. "Lord knows, I need you too, little one. I've wanted you for so long." He grinned as he slid his cock inside me in one powerful thrust.
The pain was intense, and I clawed at his shoulders. "Shh, baby. Just breathe. Feel your daddy inside you. Relax." He repeated as he held me still.
I was right, it stretched me a lot, but it was also the best feeling in the world.
James bounced me on his cock, thrusting up alongside. "Fuck! Daddy!" I cried out.
"Right there honey….. god, I think you're the tightest I've fucked." he groaned.
"Mmmm, that's right baby, ride that dick, just like that. Fuck, your wetness is driving me wild." He hissed, still pumping into me.
“Ooh, that's right... daddy, harder, fuck me harder, daddy." I bucked my hips.
He squeezed my thighs with large tattooed hands, gripping me tighter, ramming me into the mattress. I could barely keep up with him. I rode him until I couldn't anymore.
"Such a good girl," he growled as I collapsed, hardly having enough energy to keep riding him.
"Just relax while daddy fucks you."
He ordered. Ilaid my head on his chest, breathing heavily. I wasn't sure I could handle more. He held me up, still inside me, cradling me in his arms as he rammed into me.
"Yes, Daddy, yes, that's it..." I whined, my body getting used to him, and I became more flexible.
"Oooh, yes! Yes, yes!" I cried out. James's pace picked up.
I arched my back, causing him to push harder into me. I was soon screaming out his name, throwing my head back. "James!" I cried out, holding on for dear life as I was transported to another plane of existence.
He continued to thrust into me. I was so full, I thought I would burst. "Daddy, daddy, I'm going to cum again." I squealed.
“Cum all over daddy's cock, princess. Let it happen." He encouraged.
I cried out his name as my walls pulsated around him. "Ohhh, daddy!" I gasped. "Ohhh, fuck, I'm cumming too." James slammed into me, jerking his hips as he shot rope after rope of seed into me.
"That's it baby, cum on my cock. That's it." He growled. He continued to hold me, both of us breathing heavily. When he started to soften, we both dropped onto the bed, both of us exhausted.
I couldn't believe my own stepdad had just cum inside me. I loved it.
"You're gonna make me addicted to you, Princess." He murmured, rubbing up my back.
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cyberrfangs · 2 days
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“Once More to See You” — . . . Mitski ♬
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:
IN WHICH. . .
The thought that always seem to cloud your mind, Nick announcing you as his boyfriend. Now seems more distant than ever with Nicks reluctance and growing fear.
WARNINGS: male!reader, angst, use of Y/n, cursing
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
“BUT with everybody watching us, our every move”
“WE do have reputation”
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
The chill early-autumn breeze rushed past my face, the cold wind biting at my nose and cheeks.
The sun began to set as the sky was painted with a beautiful ombré of orange and blue, making my eyes flutter with admiration.
Shutting the sturdy metal door to my car, my fingers working to hit the lock button on my keys before turning to walk up the hard cement of the Sturniolo’s driveway. My shoes tapping the ground rhythmically.
I stepped onto the porch, unlocking the front door with the key Nick gifted me on our two month anniversary, that, now, being almost three months ago.
With a soft smile, I stepped past into their inviting and cozy home. My cold face being gifted with the warm air embracing my body. Almost like muscle memory, I slipped off my shoes and left them by the front door, walking up the stairs and towards Nick’s room.
A giddy feeling rushed through my body as I knocked on his door, hearing his voice on the other side as I opened it. A smile soon falling over his lips as his eyes met mine.
“Y/nnnn, I was waiting for you. What took you so long?” Nick whined, yet a smile remained playing on his delicate lips.
I glanced over at the laptop sitting in his lap over the soft blankets draped over the lower half of his body, Nick having his back positioned up against the headboard of his bed. Obviously in the works of editing a video.
“Hey, sorry. Didn’t know traffic could still be that hectic at such an hour.” I sighed softly, matching his energy as I slipped off my jacket, laying it carefully on the chair of his desk. Wasting no time as I climbed into his bed beside him.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚
With our shoulders leaned together, our warmth mingling, I watched as he worked on the upcoming car video for him and his brothers. A certain thought plaguing my mind.
“Hey... Nick?” My voice rang out, catching his attention as he looked over at me. Our eyes meeting as I turned my head to face him, a longing gleam playing in my orbs.
“Yeah?” He spoke soon after, his hand taking solace into my own beneath the blanket as his thumb ran along the back of my hand in a soothing pattern.
“I’ve been thinking about this for awhile, I never really knew how, or when to ask it.” My voice trailed off, looking down at the keys of his laptop.
The silence ate away at me for a moment. Feeling guilt erode at my mind for feeling scared to ask the one I adored so much a simple question, a question in which another person wouldn’t even hesitate to ask.
“It’s just… when are we going to come out to the public about us? I mean, we have been dating for awhile now.” I spoke, looking back up at him as our eyes locked once more. An unreadable expression across his face, my nerves growing at just this simple action of his.
His hand left mine beneath the covers, his face turning away from mine.
“I don’t know, Y/n. We don’t know how they will react. It’s better for me and you.” He sighed, looking back down at the laptop.
His words made my chest ache with longing, but also with impatience.
“Nick, we can’t keep avoiding this. We are going to have to come clean soon, why not now?” I said, knowing what would happen if I continued this. But continuing to push.
“Y/n, I just need you to listen to me. Please.” His tone remained calm, yet his eyes refused to look at me.
“No, Nick. How am I supposed to listen to you when you can’t even tell your fans about us?” I sighed, feeling myself growing more and more frustrated with him and his words.
“You don’t get it. You don’t know what it’s like to be under pressure how I am.” He said, his voice stern. Almost nothing like the voice he had consistently used when addressing me.
“Well how am I supposed to do that when you don’t talk to me about these things?” I huffed out, looking away from him as I let my body fall back slumped against the headboard of his bed.
“Why are you here, Y/n? I didn’t invite you over here to just bother me about this.” I heard him sigh, the rolling of his eyes evident in his tone.
The silence hung heavy in the air, finding myself pulling my lips into a straight line. My patience wearing thin.
“Look, we just have to wait for the right time.” He spoke, setting his hand onto my leg above the covers. Once a gesture that would make butterflies flutter in my stomach, now made my fists clench.
“Is there ever going to be a right time, Nick? I mean, seriously. How long am I going to be stuck here waiting for something that should be already done?” I snapped, my voice raising as I turned my head to look at him. His expression moving from shock, to the matched anger in my own.
“I’m sorry, okay? Is that what you want me to say? I’m so fucking sorry that I’m trying to keep you safe, to keep you from getting dragged into a whirlwind of shit that I really don’t think you could handle!” His words cracked a part deep within me, trying my best not to let him acknowledge it.
“What can’t I handle? What do you think is so fucking cruel and twisted that makes you think I can’t handle it?” I pushed myself from off the bed, Nick following as he stood up from his side of the bed. His laptop falling shut onto the plush blankets.
“Me being seen with you!” He shouted, his words catching me off guard.
My expression faltered, the lump in my throat forming as I felt tears cloud my vision. My shoulders tensing.
“Sure, the public know that I’m gay. But what are they going to do when they actually see it happening? When they see I’m with someone like you?” His words cut through me, his harsh yet honest tone making my stomach churn.
I felt the first tear slip from my eye, many more following after it as my eyes could only stay locked onto Nick. My heart yearning for something that my mind couldn’t yet think of.
I watched as his expression of anger slowly slipped from his face, a sigh falling from him as he ran his hands down his face.
“Look, Y/n—“
“I’m gonna go.” I whispered, cutting him off as I turned around and walked quickly to his door. My hand enveloping the cold handle as I pushed it open, not even caring enough to look back or to even go back for my jacket.
I didn’t even try to hold back my tears in that moment, letting them flow freely down my cheeks as I stepped down the steps at a quickened pace. Knowing that the longer I was here, the harder it would be to let go.
As my feet hit the ground in front of the front door, I quickly slipped on my shoes, a pathetic sob falling from my lips as I didn’t even bother tying them. Hurriedly opening the front door as I grabbed my keys from my pocket, stumbling to unlock it as I almost tripped over my untied laces. Only causing me to me cry even harder.
Once I managed to pull myself into my car, my chest rising and falling unevenly with each sob and sniffle. I started my car with shaky hands, the catchy chorus that played now being muted out by my mind.
I pulled away from the Sturniolos house, the sound of my cars engine the only thing filling my ears. Keeping me from hearing my own cries and seemingly endless thoughts.
Twilight now painting the sky a dark black, not a star in sight. Tears clouding my vision.
。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:・゚★,。・:*:・゚☆ 。・:*:
NOTE:
WOULD you guys want a part 2 to this? I’m torn between writing one or just leaving it as this for you all to use your imaginations.
ALSO I am actually so desperate for some requests😓. I’m out of ideas and need some ideas, PLEASE SEND IN REQUESTS🙏🙏
LIKES AND REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED
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Garden of Adam
Adam remembers when he first woke up in Hell after getting stabbed. He was lost for a very long time and absolutely upset about the situation. No matter how hard he prayed and tried to contact heaven, he couldn't get through.
He was on his own.
It wasn't until he got a glimpse of himself in some window, did he realize how different he looked.
His halo was gone, long black and gold horns in its place. His once light brown hair was now a dark brown, so dark it was almost black. His golden wings were now the colors of black and red, same as his outfit. His skin was more gray, the only thing that was the same were his golden eyes.
Adam had to steal some new clothes, his were torn and covered in blood and dirt.
He also couldn't risk any of these freaks recognizing him, he had heard horror stories of angels that fell into Hell and were left at the demons mercy.
They showed no fucking mercy.
Now he wore loose fitting pants, a shirt and hoodie. Anything to keep him on the down low.
When Adam was walking down the street, he came across a huge dilapidated building that was sandwiched between two thriving stores. A demon was locking the place, looking sad. "So long old friend, we had a good run." He threw the key in Adam's direction and the fallen angel caught it.
What luck.
Adam waited until the guy was gone until he went inside. No wonder he was leaving it behind. It was fucking filthy!
There was only one chair in the room and it looked to be hundreds of years old. There was dirt, dust, and cobwebs everywhere.
He slumped, knowing that the only person who was going to clean it would be him. Adam got to work cleaning the place up.
Once all the filth was gone it didn't look too bad, just needed a coat of paint.
Being in Hell, he knew he'd need to have money to make it. He could use the space to sell something but at first he didn't know what.
It took him until the end of the week to realize he had powers to manipulate and grow plants, it took another two before he figured that was what he could sell.
Who doesn't like flowers?
That's how his garden center, named Eden was born. A garden that would not be destroyed and be all Adams.
That had been two years ago.
Business was booming, apparently flowers brought many demons, especially sinners a lot of joy. It reminded them of earth and when they were alive.
Adam started collecting souls for employees six months into having the place. It started off with just one or two to give him a helping hand.
He really didn't know what to do with souls, but he didn't let that stop him.
Now he owned over fifty souls, with some more locations that he branched out to get more business he was considered an overlord.
Whatever the fuck that meant.
So of course things wouldn't stay the same and Adam couldn't just love his somewhat happy life in Hell with his flowers and other plants. Today was the day everything changed.
Adam was doing up the weekly center piece to draw people in, it was a large bouquet of flowers that were on sale that week.
The door chimed, Adam stepped away and wiped the dirt off his hands onto his apron. "Welcome to Eden, how can I-"
"Adam?"
Adam felt the blood in his veins grow cold. Oh no. He turned to look at the group that entered his store and the one who addressed him was front and center. "Lucifer?"
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cameronspecial · 14 hours
Text
A New Kind Of Normal (Part 8)
Pairing: Dad!Rafe Cameron x Reader
Warnings: SMUT
Pronouns: She/Her
Word Count: 3.1K
Summary: With one month of sobriety back under his belt, Rafe feels like his life is finally falling into place.
Masterlist
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Rafe’s one-month sobriety is finally coming up and to say that Stella is excited is an understatement. Y/N explained to Stella that Daddy hadn’t shown symptoms of his sickness for a month, much like cancer remission. Stella doesn’t fully understand the milestone her father is about to achieve, but she knows a party for celebration should be held. So she insisted to her mother that they throw a surprise party. Y/N closed down the diner so it could be held there and Stella wanted a superhero party because Rafe is her hero. “Mommy, the banner needs to be higher,” Stella orders, moving her hands up to illustrate her point. Y/N nods and motions to Sarah to do as told. Nobody says anything about the fact that the sign says Happy Birthday on it. Once the little girl gives her approval, John B. comes over to help them tape the string to the wall. Thanks to the party, Stella got the opportunity to meet her aunt’s fiancé and her dad’s friends. Topper finishes placing out the snacks, picking Stella up to get her approval.
“What do you think?” he asks, resting her on his waist. She nods with satisfaction, “Good, Uncle Topper. Can I have a chocolate, please?” She looks around the room to make sure the last part is only heard by her uncle. “Okay, but don’t tell Mommy I gave it to you before you had lunch,” he chuckles, leaning over to grab her one. 
Half an hour later, the diner is set up for the surprise superhero party. Rafe texted Y/N that he was five minutes away and everyone went to their hiding spots. Stella and Y/N are hiding at the front of the counter so they are the first people he sees. As soon as the little bell jingles, the lights turn on and everyone pops up from their hiding places, yelling surprise. Rafe steps back a little, tripping on his feet and falling out of the door. “Daddy!” Stella worries, trying to jump over the counter to check on her father but is stopped by her mother. Rafe shoots up from the floor, “I’m okay. I’m okay, little witch.” He rushes to Stella, bringing her over the counter to comfort her. Her tiny cries die down at the feeling of his lips on her temple. He rubs her shoulders, bouncing her a little. The Happy Birthday sign causes him even more confusion. “But it isn’t my birthday?” he whispers to Y/N. She giggles, “She wanted to celebrate your one-month sobriety. Don’t worry, she doesn’t know what it really means. And they didn’t have any superhero signs celebrating sobriety.” Rafe nods in understanding, giving Stella another kiss on the cheek. “Thank you for the party, little witch. I love it. Forever and Always,” he thanks. Stella beans at her father’s words, “Forever and Always.” “Baby, why don’t you tell Daddy why you wanted a superhero-themed party?” Y/N suggests. Stella looks at her dad, “Because you're my hero!” Rafe’s heart absolutely melts. 
Rafe does his rounds, greeting everyone at his party. “Your girl is great, Rafe,” Topper comments, patting Rafe on the back. Rafe looks over at Y/N, “Yeah, she really is.” Topper sees the dad’s line of sight and laughs. “I was talking about your daughter. But I see you still have a crush on your baby mama.” “Don’t call her that,” Rafe threatens. His friend’s hands shoot up and he walks back with an apology. 
“Daddy, time to play the games!” Stella announces, grabbing his hand. He lets her take him to the poster on the wall. Pin the cape on the superhero. Stella goes first, getting the cape right where it should be with a little guidance from her dad. It is obvious to everyone but the little girl that the adults purposely did bad so she could win. The next party activity is decorating superhero masks, which the adults love. “Wow, Daddy. Your mask is pretty,” Stella awes. Rafe smiles at his little girl, “Thank you. I made it for you.” He helps her put the mask on and she hands him hers to put on. Y/N’s heart pounds at the sight before her, taking a picture of the pair. Rafe spots the piñata and his interest is peaked. Y/N notes his gaze, “We can do the piñata now if you want.” He nods, getting up with Stella in his arms. Of course, she goes first and when she gets pouty about not being able to break it open, Rafe hits it open for her. The candy falls out and she squeals in happiness. 
The pizza finally arrives and then the cake is next. Stella thinks that whenever there is a cake at a party, the guest of honour has to blow out candles. So everyone sings Happy Birthday, per Stella’s request, and watches him blow out the candles. Once he gets the candles out, Stella shoves her father’s head into the cake with a laugh. Rafe’s head straightens out and he gives her a fake annoyed look. Her giggles continue so he gives her a kiss on the cheek, getting frosting all over it. He can see Y/N snicker as well and gives her the same treat. She takes it a little less like a champ and gives a small yell, running away from Rafe. He laughs, chasing after her to bother her some more. “It’s just a little frosting, Buttercup. It won’t hurt you,” he teases, finally catching up to her. 
Y/N doesn’t like it. The little flutter in her heart as he wraps his hand around her waist and blows raspberries on her neck, frosting going everywhere. “Button, stop it,” she whines, bringing her ear close to her shoulder to stop his attack. He stops at her plea, grabbing a napkin from the counter to wipe the mess he made away. She never ceases to be surprised at how sweet and considerate Rafe can be sometimes. Her lips find his cheeks as a thanks for his help. 
——
The party soon comes to an end and everyone helps bring down the decoration. Stella wanted so many decorations that Rafe had to take some stuff in his car and bring it over to Y/N’s house for her. The house is quiet as she opens the front door, holding it open for Rafe. The little gremlin that normally fills these walls with screams is sleeping over at her Aunt Sarah’s house for the night. She had begged to be able to stay the night for the first time, especially since Sarah promised sugar and a spa night with John B. as their servant. “Where can I put this?” he asks, showing her the box of extra cutlery and plates. She points to the counter, “You can just leave everything in the living room. I’ll go through it all tomorrow morning. I’m way too tired to think about it tonight.” 
They get all the boxes in the middle of the living room and flop down on the couch together. Y/N reaches into her pocket and pulls something out. “In all of Stella’s excitement this afternoon, I forgot to give this back to you. Kinda ironic that I forgot since it was the whole reason for the party. It’s like going to a birthday party and not celebrating the birthday person,” she explains, handing Rafe the small disc back. He holds his hand out, “Thank you. It’s okay. We all know the party was really for Stella.” “Yeah, that’s true.” Y/N’s fingers ghost his as she places the chip into his hands. Her eyes dart up to see him already staring at her. The moment of silence that passes over them isn’t awkward; instead, they seem to be communicating everything they have been feeling for each other. Rafe takes the shot they are both too scared to take and leans in. His lips find hers. He almost sighs in relief when she starts to kiss him back.
Her leg swings over his hips and she starts kissing down his neck. His head throws back, allowing her more access to his neck. His hands find a way to her waist to encourage her to start grinding on his lap. Her hands find the top button of his shirt, slowly unbuttoning them one at a time. She gets the front of his shirt open and she pulls his shirt off. Her kisses turn into licking a long stripe down to his v-line. She gives a quick kiss just above his pants before breaking away from his skin so she can pull his pants down. With the rest of his clothes off, she gets to work at making him feel good. Her lips start to move down his shaft, using her tongue to circle around his tip as she would soft-serve ice cream. “You are going so good for me, Rafe,” she praises. She reaches between her folds to collect some of her juices to lessen the friction of her hands pumping the rest of his cock. When that isn’t enough, she pulls away, a string of saliva connecting his tip to the bottom of her lip and spits on her hands. “Y/N, faster. Please, good girl, go faster,” Rafe pants, gently pushing her head down his dick. Tears begin to form in her eyes as she chokes on him and his twitching cock tells her he is about to cum. 
His fingers lace through her hair, “I’m about to cum.” Right as he says the words, ropes of white shoot out of him and into her mouth. She swallows everything while looking directly into his eyes. He grins at her, grabbing her hips to pull her back up. His back slides down the couch, arching so his body is off but his head is at the edge of the cushion. The position may be uncomfortable, but what he is about to do makes up for it. He brings her over his face and immediately gets to work. His hand flicks her skirt over his head, moving her underwear out of the way as well. 
He kisses her clit before he starts sucking the bud. His tongue works in tandem with his lips to cause her head to throw back in pleasure. “Ugh, just like that, Rafe.” She can feel his cocky smirk against her and starts to grip his hair. His mouth moves to her hole, darting his tongue inside of her. The circular motion of his tongue quiets her moans, so he brings his finger up to her clit. This garners a response as she starts to grind against his face. “There you go, Y/N. Tell me what you want. Take what you need,” he mumbles, going back to pleasuring her. Her moans are louder than they were before, “Rafe, I’m going to- to.” She doesn’t get to finish as her orgasm washes over her. They both take a second to catch their breath. She gets off of his face and stands off the couch. Motioning for him to sit down. His eyebrows knit as she heads to her purse to pull her phone out. He quickly understands when the music starts “Sweat” by Zayn starts to play. 
Her hips start to move to the music, pulling her shirt off her head to reveal her lacey blue bra underneath. She moves herself back onto his lap and starts grinding. Her hands round her back to unhook her bra. He helps her out of it, kissing the top of her breasts. He wants to suck her nipples, but she removes herself from his hold. She pulls off her skirt, taking her time with her underwear to tease him. She dangles the pair on her fingers waving it in front of his face. Rafe grabs it and throws it across the room in annoyance. She giggles. “Come here,” he growls, pulling her in by the waist. His hands play with her boobs and his mouth works on making a hickey on her neck. She gets to work on making sure he is hard enough to take her. Once she is satisfied, she positions him at her entrance and sinks down. His attention is pulled from what he is doing and he lets out the loudest moan he has ever. He grips her waist helping her up and down on him. Her head throws back, “Harder, Rafe.” He can do nothing but obey, bringing her until his tip is about to slip out and slams her down on him. His hips buck up to meet her movements. She continues to move on him, sometimes stopping at the bottom of his shaft to swirl her hips. He notices her eyes closed like she normally does close to her climax and presses down firmly but softly on her stomach, just below her belly button. This causes her to squeal as her climax comes early and she wants to hide in embarrassment as a waterfall amount of liquid leaves her body. The contraction of her pussy around him sends him over the edge, shooting his seed into her. She gets off of his dick and collapses onto him. Her head buries in his neck. His arms bring her impossibly closer to him and he kisses her forehead. 
“You squirted on me,” he is finally able to breathe out after a few seconds. She nods slowly, “I did. I’ve never done that before.” He grins to himself and looks down at his now soft cock, realizing he isn’t wearing a condom. They got so caught up in the moment that they forgot. “Shit, I’m not wearing a condom,” he points out to her. She nuzzles herself into his chest, kissing his collarbone, “It’s okay. We used one last time and look where that got us.” 
“Where it got us is with an adorable daughter who we love so much. I’ll Uber the morning after pill tomorrow morning for you.” 
She wants to respond, but she falls asleep before she can. He is about to get up off the couch to clean them up, but sleep captures his state as well. 
——
Rafe wakes up in the middle of the night to a kink in his neck from falling asleep sitting upright. Y/N is still in his arms, her breath falling steadily. He kisses the hickey he made on her neck and brings one arm around her bum, the other around the shoulder. He rises slowly to make sure she doesn’t fall, heading toward her bedroom. Her head softly hits her pillow with his help. He kisses her forehead and heads to the bathroom. The towel in his hand is slightly damp upon his return to her bedside. He gently opens her legs and wipes away the dried arousal on her thighs. He throws the towel into the hamper, not bothering to put clothes on him because of the summer heat. He pulls the light blanket on top of them and cuddles into her back. 
——
Y/N wakes up in Rafe’s arms. She doesn’t remember heading to her bedroom, so he must have brought them here. Her blanket is pulled at the foot of her bed, leaving both of their naked glory available to anyone’s sight. She turns in his arms to find his eyes still closed. She gives a soft smile, leaning up to give him a kiss on the nose. This causes his eyes to flutter open with a massive grin and return the kiss but on the lips. “Last night was spectacular,” he whispers, resting his forehead on hers. She nods, “It was. Just as great as the last time. I can’t believe it took us five years to do that again.” 
“Me too. I should’ve gone after you. Actually, I should’ve gotten sober sooner, then we could’ve had those five years together. I could’ve been there for you and Stella.”
“Yeah, but that’s okay. You found your way back to us eventually.”
“I did I want to stay in bed with you all day. Like we should’ve all those years ago.”
“We can, I’ll text your sister to ask her to keep Stella for the day. I’m sure they would both love that idea. They can continue plotting to take over the world.”
Rafe laughs, grabbing his phone and hers. “That sounds amazing. And I’ll Uber the pill for us. Do you think I can get them to bring it to your bedroom? I can’t stand the thought of leaving you for a second.” She chuckles at his words, “That really would be the dream, but I don’t like the thought of a stranger in my house. And I highly doubt you would like the idea of them seeing me naked because I don’t plan to get up either.” “I would not. I guess I’ll get up when the doorbell rings,” he agrees. Y/N shoots forward when she sees Sarah’s text that they are on their way. She is about to get out of her bed to get changed, but the door is thrown open and Y/N screams at the sight of her daughter and hopefully (very distant) future sister-in-law. Rafe leans over to cover them with the blanket while Sarah covers Stella’s eyes. 
“Stella, why don’t you show me your room?” Sarah suggests, guiding her niece to the other bedroom. The couple can overhear their daughter’s words, “What were Mommy and Daddy doing naked?” Y/N’s face finds a place in his neck, trying to hide the mortification on her face. “Please tell me that our daughter did not just walk in on us naked after an amazing night of sex,” she begs, looking at her with worried eyes. He shakes his head, “I’m sorry, Buttercup. I can’t.” “God, this is going to be so awkward to explain,” she groans, sitting back on the bed. The doorbell rings and Rafe scrambles out of bed. “Well, Buttercup. I’m sorry to say, but you might have to do that explanation alone. I have some medication to get.” He doesn’t seem to realize he is still naked. “Button, you’re still naked,” she calls out. He is quick to get back into her room to put some clothes on, “Shit, my clothes are in the living room.”
——
After Rafe has to run to get his clothes so his daughter doesn’t see him and an afternoon of trying to explain the adult game Y/N and Rafe were playing, Rafe is finally ready to go back home. Stella is too busy watching Sabrina the Teenage Witch, so it gives her parents a second to talk to themselves. “I was thinking… Maybe we can go on a date?” Y/N asks, bringing her nail up to her mouth so she can bite it. Her eyes are on her hands and he lifts her chin so she can look in her eyes. “I would love that,” he mutters, kissing her lips. They pull apart with a smile. Finally, Stella comes running to say goodbye to her father. 
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coco-loco-nut · 15 hours
Text
Down Bad
pairing: carlos sainz x reader
summary: a heartbreak like no other
a/n: it’s super short, sorry
masterlist ttpd masterlist
________
You should've known better. Really. You aren't the kind of girl that a hot, 29-year-old, Spanish Formula One driver would like. Of course, you are beautiful, but apparently not enough for him. His attention was fleeting, leaving you just another one of his conquests in a long string of girls like you.
You met Carlos while interning in Madrid during the Winter. At the time you didn't realize he was love-bombing you, only to drop you cold once your internship ended a month later and you went home, practically shipped away by him. For a moment you knew, or thought you knew, extraordinary love, but it wasn't real. Was anything real anymore?
“Sweetheart, you need to stop moping,” your mom says from the doorway of your bedroom. “You know I love you, but if I didn’t know you better, I’d think you are a moody teenager,” you know your mom means well, but the last bit struck hard.
“Fine, I’m going for a run,” you groan, rolling out of bed. She leaves your room, seemingly appeased. It doesn’t take you long to get dressed, lace up your trainers, and play your angsty playlist through your headphones.
You take the path you know by heart, the one you take when you need to be away from people. When you are sufficiently alone, you let it all out.
Crying and running may not be the wisest idea, but it’s cathartic to you. You stop when you get to the meadow and lay down, staring at the cloudy sky. As the music plays, you yell the lines that hit too close to home. I might just die, it would make no difference. Fuck you if I can’t have us.
Fuck. You need to get over him. Everything just feels so hollow now, like you were stripped of everything you are and ever were. You just want to talk to your friends about it, but you know them. They will call you nuts, saying that it never really happened, that Carlos Sainz would never date you.
So instead, you lay in this field, thinking about when you were heaven struck. You might just not get up, stay down while you are down bad for someone who doesn’t even care about your existence anymore.
Maybe you were abducted by an alien to another, then returned back to this spot. That could explain it. Explain why you are feeling the angst of a scorned teenage girl, when you have more emotional maturity than that. You are 22 after all.
It’s how you imagine it feels like to lose the touch of a twin flame. I guess being love bombed then abandoned would do that to you.
The more you think about it, the more the alien analogy seems to fit. It’s like he beamed down from a ship, did a hostile takeover on your heart, the alien encounters closer and closed as each day passed. And you let them happen, willingly.
It started with a hello, then coffee, then a stroll, then a lunch, then a drive, then a dinner, then a night spent together, two, three, four, it spiraled. He did everything he could to worm his way into your heart, only for him to say it’s over.
Maybe you will take the ship, go to some planet and find an alien who can understand all of it. How dare he do everything he could to make you fall in love, only to leave you stranded. How is that romantic? You were in love, and fuck him if you can’t have him because of his actions.
You stare at the sky, music pumping through your headphones, willing the sky to part and reveal the alien spaceship that will beam you up to it in a cloud of dust and take you away.
Minutes pass until you realize your efforts are worthless, you mentally wave goodbye to the ship that carries him (and his pet names and his perfect dates) with it. Shedding a few tears on your run home, you start rebuilding yourself with each step. The hurt and pain slowly being chipped away.
No man with EVER make you feel this down bad again.
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