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#it’s been like a month and a half… that’s no time at all
onsomenewsht · 2 days
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Helpless to the bass and faded light
About when she bribes you and you dance with her like a filled stadium isn't looking
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》 Leah Williamson x Reader
》 words count: +1k
》 she took my arm / I don't know how it happened / we took the floor and she said
You don’t like football.
It’s quite a boring game if you stop to think about it for a moment. Two dozen and counting people running around a ball trying to kick it into a huge net.
Not something you look forward to sit through for almost two hours.
Despite your father’s best efforts, you being his only kid and his only hope to pass down his passion, the sport never managed to interest you long enough to care.
You even found yourself in the stands of your dad’s favourite club’s home more times than you’re able to remember, going beyond yourself and cheering when the other people around you did.
The things you do to make your parents proud.
How you managed to have the English captain wrapped around your finger, regardless of your well-known dislike for her biggest passion and purpose in life, is still a mystery for your families and friends.
“Pretty please, just this one”
“Oh, shut up!”, you hit her arm and push her off you, both still naked.
You can’t believe your girlfriend is actually trying to bribe you with sex, not even waiting for you to fully recover before asking to go to the game.
“No, you ruined the mood”, you state as the blonde tries to kiss you again.
The huge grin of her beautiful face is quite dangerous, she can win you over so easily and you both know it.
Leah rises off the bed to retrieve a warm cloth from the bathroom and a clean shirt from the closet. You accept her attention, she’s always caring when it comes to you, but you’re pretty sure the extra effort has a not-so-subtle second purpose.
“You can’t buy me so easily, Williamson”
She can.
“It’s a really important game, my love”
“For who?”
“For me?”, she tries as she slots herself under your open arm, a grin hidden between your neck and the pillow.
“I barely bear you playing”
“You love watching me play”
“I love you, period”
Leah knows how much you think the sport is boring, going way out of your comfort zone just to cheer her. She feels immensely supported when she finds your big smile in the stands, wrapped in one of her jerseys.
It’s not that difficult for you to sit and admire your girlfriend in her element, focusing more on her movements and attitude than paying attention to the actual game.
What you find quite annoying is enduring Arsenal’s men’s team.
The defender’s fingers on your side are slowly soothing you in a compromising position, too relaxed and smitten to keep denying her anything. You know she doesn’t need much more to lure you into her trap and, unfortunately for you, she’s perfectly aware too.
When the blonde’s lips find the particularly sensitive spot on the base of your neck, you’re doomed.
~
You’re glad your father is already dead or you’d have killed him as you take your seat in the Emirates Stadium, surrounded by the Gunners’ colours. Your girlfriend’s name on your back could be the final nail.
The things you do to make your lover happy.
“You know I love you, right?”
“You better never forget this”, you quip back.
The English captain has been looking forward to this game for weeks now, you couldn’t have been able to turn her down in spite of it all.
She doesn’t need to know though, that you didn’t accept to spend one of your date nights watching the North West London derby for free.
“Maybe you will enjoy it at the end”
Nice try, you will not.
“You know, my dad was a West Ham supporter”
“Could have been worse”, she smiles at you, reaching for your hand.
Talking about your father is getting easier as time finally moves forward and your grief keeps changing its shape. Compared to the abyssal black hole it felt like the first year and a half, of its progress.
Leah didn’t meet him, crushing in your life a couple of months after his passing, but she managed to find a space in your heart that keeps growing despite all your fears.
They could have hit so well, bonding over their shared passion for the sport and their never-ending determination to make you happy.
You told her some stories about him, mostly memories to make your girlfriend understand how stubborn and passionate he was about the thing he cared about.
The one thing you all have in common.
“Yeah, he used to gift me a West Ham jersey every year on Bobby Moore’s birthday”
Leah’s laugh managed to overcome the buzzing atmosphere of the stadium, making you feel like she was the reason all the people around you were cheering. You sure think so.
“He sounds like an incredible father”
“Football obsession aside, he was good”
When you turn to look at her, the blonde’s eyes are already on you and the smile on her face is enough to warm your heart.
~
The first goal coming within five minutes has you quite engaged in what’s happening on the pitch, you even drag your girlfriend in a kiss as you both rise from your seats to celebrate.
Your commitment declined quite easily after that, more entertained by Leah’s reactions than the actual game. You nod in amusement every time she tries to talk you through one of her analyses, placing a hand on her thigh to stop her from standing up every time the ball is somehow close to the box.
The second half is more eventual, at least that’s what you can understand by the excitement the defender and the people in the stands around you seem to radiate.
You’re not clueless, you’re perfectly aware a five-nil win against Chelsea is quite the result. You care enough to think you can’t wait to go home - Leah is always in the mood for a private celebration when her team triumphs, especially over another London club.
“Can we go now?”, you ask as soon as the referee whistles three times, declaring the end of your and the Blues’ torture.
Leah’s happiness is contagious, so you’re not mad when she drags you in her arms to join her cheers and enthusiastic dance. It takes you less than a second to indulge her, letting the blonde spin you around and matching her excitement.
When she dips you and seals the move with a kiss the laugh that rises out of you is genuine and loud.
At first, neither of you notice the stadium’s camera pointed in your direction, recording your little moment of pure bliss in each other’s arms.
Looking back at it, as all your friends sent you the viral video, you know Leah saw you two on the big screen and went along with her little cocky display of affection and excitement for the victory.
You’re sure your father could be laughing at it too, despite the colors you’re wearing.
fine.
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lustspren · 11 hours
Text
Royal ft Miyeon, Soyeon.
length: 14.6k words ✦
Miyeon, Soyeon & Male Reader. 
O Sole Mio Sequel.
genres: threesome, breeding, overstimulation, blowjob, squirt, facefuck, voyeur, hard sex, bi, creampie, pussy eating, party sex, public sex ✧ 
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Month and a half since you were in Los Angeles. Month and a half since Miyeon saw you, Soyeon and Yuqi naked in her own room.
You thought about it often; her reaction had been hilarious to say the least, but you were afraid that it would change your relationship with her in some way. Luckily that didn't happen. However, every time you saw her you couldn't help but remember that day. You were sure the same thing happened to her.
When the recordings of the Queencard and Allergy music videos were finished, you returned with the girls back to Korea and everything continued as usual. To no one's surprise, Queencard became such a hit that it gave the girls a PAK. An achievement like this, desired by so many groups and artists within the country, was not something that was achieved every day. It deserved celebration.
You had already had a small meeting at Soyeon's apartment to drink and do karaoke, but the idea for something bigger came from Minnie: the only person among them capable of spending absurd amounts of money without the slightest remorse. Her idea was to organize a big party, with a multitude of idols and their respective companions—if they had them—as main guests. It seemed crazy to you, but neither Soyeon nor the rest of the girls thought it was a bad idea.
Although Minnie was the leader of that initiative, the rest of the girls, in her eagerness to participate, convinced her to also help with the expenses. This is how they inaugurated the fund from which all the money destined solely and exclusively for the party would come. You, of course, couldn't contribute anything even though Soyeon was always in charge of giving you everything you needed; the amount of money you earned was tiny compared to the current most famous group in Korea. You had no choice but to help with all the logistics, at least.
No expenses of any kind were spared: they hired private security personnel, apparently among the best. They also bought alcoholic beverages of all kinds, snacks and sweets to fill the cupboards, and a sophisticated sound system. The jewel in the crown was the place that was rented for the event: a big house located in an exclusive neighborhood under construction in Yongin-si, a city located 40 kilometers south of Seoul.
The fund was made up of all the girls, but Minnie was responsible for all that uncontrollable spending. The speech she used as an excuse was that 'the fund would never fall short as long as she was the main investor.' You couldn't argue against that, besides, it was her problem.
You were with Soyeon like a limpet, glued to her at all times, doing preparations and errands everywhere. Aside from this, a big part of your job—or rather your girlfriend's—was making calls to every entertainment company you could think of to fill them in on the details. The big hook that Soyeon had going for her was that they wouldn't have to worry about security and privacy issues. Some bigwigs objected and dismissed the idea as crazy almost immediately, but in these cases Soyeon used her influence to get CUBE's own staff—who had no choice but to obey the person who fed them—to convince them in person.
So, with a bit of tug-of-war all the corresponding permissions were obtained, and invitations began to be sent to every possible idol in the girls' contact book. If your calculations were correct, by the end of that day around 60 people had been invited. That's not counting the possible companies that each one will bring.
What a mess.
"Hey, remember what I told you that night with Minnie?" Soyeon asked you.
You were in her apartment, sitting on the couch with the table in front of you full of papers and folders. You had been making expense calculations and adjusting budgets, and then sending the documents to Minnie. After a couple of hours Soyeon had gotten up to get cups of coffee and take a break.
You sipped the steaming energizing nectar, a pen held to your ear.
“Huh…” you thought about it for a moment. "The thing about...?"
"Aha." she nodded, crossing her legs, the coffee cup in her hand.
"Yeah, I remember. Why?"
Soyeon leaned forward, arms crossed over her knee.
"Because this will be the perfect opportunity to make Miyeonie take the bait." she said, lowering her voice, as if someone else, in the apartment where it was just the two of you, was going to listen.
You had had few interactions with Miyeon since that day, but all of them were normal, pleasant. Of course you acted like she hadn't seen your dick a month and a half ago, but you were sure she thought about it every time you talked, because every time she zoomed out looking down. You didn't know if she was looking where you thought she was looking, but she was, which was suspicious enough.
"And how do we plan to do that?" you said.
"Bringing her to a point where she can't resist. Cook her over low heat." She took a sip of her coffee.
You hesitated.
"She's not like Minnie or Yuqi. She's not easy to corrupt."
"And you're right, but," she held up a finger and set the coffee cup down next to a folder. "It's easier to make her give in on her own."
You wrinkled your forehead.
"What are you supposed to mean by that?"
"You'll see, darling," she patted your knee. "you will see."
—A week later—
Getting ready for an event where everyone was more attractive than you was a pain in the ass.
The day finally arrived. A Saturday night. You and Soyeon got ready at her apartment; three long hours that seemed eternal while Soyeon took even more time than you to choose what to wear. More than once you were honest with her and gave her the go-ahead for many outfits, but she just kept dismissing them. In the end she opted for a short black dress with long sleeves, wide wrists and pointed shoulder pads. She adorned her neck with a necklace of black pearls, and on her feet she wore wide, high platform heels.
The dress code was elegant, and the color was black. That was supposed to make things easier, but it didn't. You were Jeon Soyeon's partner, you just couldn't look dull.
You already had the complete outfit: black cotton sweater, high-waisted dress pants, and wide-soled formal shoes; but you were missing something, you could tell at a glance what it was, so Soyeon took you out of the house and bought you a nice leather blazer to wear over it. Now you were perfect for the occasion.
After an hour and a half by car you arrived at the neighborhood in question.
There were rather very few inhabited houses around; everything was in the process of being remodeled, and all the residences that had already been put up for sale were at least three blocks away in the case of the closest one. One of these houses was the one that stood in front of you, but the girls had only rented it for two nights. It was a masterstroke, not only were you out of the eye of the hurricane, but within that same block no one was going to be able to bother you.
As soon as you got out of the car you saw Minnie in the doorway, talking to two tall, robust men dressed in suits. You moved to the lower sidewalk and walked past the garage door until you stood behind the men. Soyeon cleared her throat, and they immediately moved aside to make way for you.
You and Soyeon greeted Minnie—who also looked spectacularly luxurious, in a black top and skirt and a black feather coat—and walked through the gate to stand behind her.
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The men were the heads of security, who repeated the information they had given to Minnie so that she would be aware as well. Basically, a surveillance perimeter had been set up around the house to monitor any suspicious movement and act immediately against a potential photographer. You doubted how legal that last one thing was, but they seemed like completely professional people. Besides, you trusted Soyeon and Minnie's judgment.
After the explanation, one of the men left and the other stayed as a doorman, with an iPad with the guest list in his hand. You three went inside.
"Damn, you've worked on it, haven't you?" you asked Minnie, as you walked through the front entrance and into the living room.
She turned to look at you with a sneaky, almost arrogant smile.
"What did you think, that we were going to invite half of the industry here and not have security well covered?" she raised an eyebrow.
The living room space was divided into two zones: the left side, with doors leading to a small private dining room and a small space that led to a bathroom and a guest bedroom; and the central part, where you were standing, with an opening that offered a view of the second floor ceiling, from which hung a set of circular lamps that floated at least two meters above your heads.
The entire front part of the living room was glass panels facing the yard, where Yeh Shuhua was taking selfies and taking photos of the mountain scenery. Minnie went to sit on the large sofa installed behind one of the wooden beams, but you went through the door on the right to get to the kitchen. There you met Yuqi, with whom you exchanged a few words while you drank more than necessary glasses of cold water.
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There were no traces of the leading star down there, so you went up to the second floor. The master bedroom was just up the stairs, behind a door on the right. There you found her, standing in front of a tall floor mirror; she fixed the short dress she was wearing, adjusting the thin straps with which it was held around her neck.
The aura of confidence that she emanated was one of the most attractive things she had in her arsenal. That, of course, is not counting a beautiful pair of legs and killer shoulders. One side of her shiny black hair fell in front of her left shoulder, and the other fell behind her right. Half of her back was exposed, a sight for which you had to thank the almighty himself.
She looked at you sideways and smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She then took out a lipstick from a small bag.
"You could at least knock on the door," she said, putting on lipstick. "I could have been in my panties."
"And what would have been wrong with that?" Soyeon replied, walking behind her to sit in the corner of the gigantic bed.
You put your hands in your pants pockets and stood five feet behind Miyeon, looking her up and down. She glanced at you through her reflection, and to your surprise she winked at you.
"Well, that would have been a pretty unfair way to get revenge for what happened in L.A."
Your gaze was lost and your thoughts went blank, not expecting her to take out that dirty cloth so soon. You stayed quiet for a second until Soyeon evaded the topic.
"My goodness, woman," she said, looking her up and down. "You look fucking beautiful."
"Yeah." You nodded. "Nothing new about you tho, but something tells me you know you'll have competition today huh?"
Miyeon adjusted her earrings and turned to look at you. She raised both eyebrows as if you had said the most absurd thing in the world.
"Competition?" she asked, amused. "Ha! Who's going to compete with me? That's ridiculous."
Soyeon laughed.
"At levels of egocentrism, well, quite a few people, you're right about that." she said before standing up.
"Your boyfriend's eyes don't say the same," Miyeon gave you a look and turned towards the door with a mischievous smile. "I'll wait for you downstairs."
Soyeon waited for Miyeon to come out of the bedroom before standing in front of you and look at you with a raised eyebrow.
"What?" you asked.
"Couldn't you be a little more sneaky?"
"But what did I do!" you protested.
"Yeah yeah, forget it," she said with a swing of her hands. "Listen to me carefully," she grabbed your face. "I won't be able to be with you for the entire party, unfortunately I have to play my role as hostess and I can't leave the guests unattended. Anyway, I'll be going with you frequently, so don't worry."
You nodded throughout her explanation, and did so again as you grabbed her waist.
"Yeah, don't worry about me, I think I can acclimatize well." You leaned down to peck her lips. She gave you another one immediately and looked into your eyes.
"Hey, don't forget," she lowered her voice. "This is your perfect opportunity to spend time with Miyeonie. Golden opportunity, actually."
The music began to boom from downstairs, getting louder with each passing second. It seemed like they were testing how high they could go without making it unbearable.
"I don't promise anything. That woman looks innocent but she's… scary."
"I was too when you met me," she objected. "And now I'm taking you late at night to the mall to buy you a jacket."
You and her shared a laugh, gave each other one last kiss before leaving the bedroom and headed downstairs.
The music resonated throughout the house through an interconnected series of powerful speakers installed at different points on the ground floor, connected to a main sound system located on the yard porch. Yuqi and Shuhua were in front of it fiddling with things on the console, since they were in charge of the playlist. The two of them had a pretty solid taste in music, so you were calm about that.
Soyeon left you to go talk to Minnie, leaving you alone with Miyeon at the bottom of the stairs. Kanye West's Gold Digger started playing.
She turned to look at you.
"I'm going to go take some photos, are you coming with me?" she asked.
"I mean I don't have much to do in here, come on," you gestured with your chin towards the yard.
Miyeon walked ahead of you, you followed her from behind. Soyeon's gaze was fixed on the two of you for a few seconds, but she didn't take long to hide it.
As you walked out onto the porch you gave Shuhua a friendly tap on the back of the head in greeting. You had to run away so she wouldn't kick your ass in response.
Miyeon took you to the side of the house, where there was a dining area covered by a large patio umbrella. You walked ahead and pulled out one of the black chairs for her. She giggled.
"Woah, what a gentleman," she said, taking a seat.
"I know right?" You sat next to her and left your phone on the table. "I'm clearly a different breed."
"Oh yeah?" She raised both eyebrows and laughed again.
You nodded your head slowly, sinking into the seat.
"Yeah, there are few like me left in the world you know?"
"Right," she nodded as well, pulling her phone out of her clutch. "That's appropriate then, if you're going to be my company for the night you must be one of those."
She entered the camera on her phone and started taking selfies. You stared at her, your hands inside your jacket pockets.
"As long as you let me be, I'll be delighted."
"It's not like I have a choice," she said without looking at you, doing different poses and angles. "Sana is on tour and Jiwoo has a busy schedule."
"Ouch, that means I'm the last option."
She turned to look at you with a confused expression.
"Don't talk nonsense, silly." She looked back at the screen. "You're far from being a last option. Besides, I need few things on a night like this, and you can fulfill all of them more than well."
You raised your eyebrows and tilted your head, nodding.
"May I know what those things you are talking about are?"
Miyeon put the phone down and looked you up and down. Again, she stayed looking down for too long, but when you tried to follow her gaze she quickly raised it.
When she was about to answer you, you realized that there was beginning to be movement inside the house. The guests had begun to arrive.
From your seats you saw how the yard began to fill with people that you had only seen through a screen or from far away during your work. Miyeon didn't look fazed about it, but it was overwhelming for you. On top of that, it got worse when some idols came up to greet Miyeon: Wendy from Red Velvet, Jiwon and Seoyeon from Fromis, Mingyu and DK from Seventeen, Sehun from EXO, Eunwoo from Astro and even Somi herself, to name a few.
At one point you realized how truly gigantic the industry really was, as the place was packed with people. And that didn't even represent 20% of all of them. But you were sure that every big shot that could be there, was.
There were few who went with a non-famous person, you could count them on the fingers of both hands. One of them was Isa from STAYC, who was arm in arm with a foreign guy who seemed very familiar to you, but you didn't know where from. They were talking to Minnie and Ryujin, with whom you knew Isa was friends.
While you looked in that direction your vision was obstructed by Soyeon, who was accompanied by some of her close friends that you didn't know until now. Somi was behind her, as were Elkie, Sorn, and Yeeun, the three former CLC members. She formally introduced you to everyone. They were kind enough to you, but that didn't make you feel any less like a little ant in the middle of a metropolis. You still seemed confident and fun on the outside, or at least you tried to.
She left with them, and she left you and Miyeon alone again.
You stood up and wandered around the house, striking up short conversations—or rather Miyeon—with several of her friends, many of whom had already gone to say hello previously. By then you had already started drinking. You two drank from thermal mugs to make it more comfortable while you went from here to there. Yours had vodka and lemon soda, and Miyeon's had white rum and watermelon juice.
You hadn't been drinking for long, you had barely finished a drink and you had just finished refilling your mugs. But you already noticed that Miyeon was behaving slightly differently, she seemed eager to move her body, you noticed it while you were starting a small conversation about your favorite vocalists.
"Wait a minute," you interrupted her, while she was talking about Christina Aguilera. "Wanna dance?"
Miyeon tilted her head and looked at you as if you had guessed the lottery number. You decided not to point out how much it showed on her.
"Oh, actually… yeah,” she nodded. “Come on," she smiled, and she took your hand to lead you inside the house.
The heart of the party was there. If outside it seemed like the place was at maximum capacity, inside you felt like you were in rush hour in Seoul.
You made your way through the crowd, Miyeon leading the way as she held your hand. Having that point of view was kind of comforting: all those people you saw on screens, shiny and seemingly perfect, being ordinary people. There was nothing new under the sun, it was evident that these young people enjoyed their private lives as much as anyone else. But being there, meters—even less—from them, made you forget that they were famous people. That made you feel more comfortable.
Miyeon led you to a corner of the living room, near the stairs leading to the second floor. You stood with your back against the wall, and Miyeon turned her back to you to corner you against it.
You had four guys from NCT Dream nearby, but you only recognized two: Mark and Jisung; you knew the other two, but you couldn't remember their names. They were talking to two girls you didn't know even by face and to Sehun from EXO. They all gave small polite bows to Miyeon and went about their business.
You weren't dancing as such at first, you were just moving subtly to the rhythm of the music while you drank and enjoyed the atmosphere. She just made sure that you were pressed against the wall at all times, so that you could soak in the scent of her hair and the warmth of her body as much as possible.
She turned her head and leaned closer to your ear.
"Won't Soyeonie be upset if she finds us like this?" she asked.
You thought about it for a moment and let out a chuckle.
"No, I don't think so," you shook your head.
"Great, then it's my time to check something."
Miyeon pressed her body against yours, her ass, firm under her short dress, rubbing against your bulge. You let out a sly smile, realizing that your mission was not going to be as difficult as you expected.
"Hmm… even this way it feels really good against my ass," she continued, then took a sip of her drink. "Come on, let's dance."
She had dared, now you had to dare too.
You wrapped your hand around her waist, placing it right in the center of her abdomen, which she didn't seem to mind. You didn't want to get hard, but despite your efforts you were sure she ended up feeling the firm bulge press against her.
You danced for a couple of songs. Nothing too flashy or risqué, but you remained close during every second. You were lying if you didn't say that you wanted to bury your face in that long, slightly sweaty neck, or kiss those pretty lips with the aftertaste of liquor on them, but you couldn’t rush.
You were forced to stop when Yuqi appeared in the crowd. Her gaze dropped to your hand on Miyeon's abdomen. She raised her eyebrows in surprise, but she didn't say anything about it.
"Hey, Soyeon sent me to find you!" she said. "We will hold a hate convention towards CUBE."
Miyeon jumped away from you and smiled broadly at Yuqi.
"I'm in!" She looked at you and offered you her hand. "Come on!"
She was the happiest you had seen her all night. That said a lot about the experience of those girls under the yoke of a disgusting company. Of course you took her hand and followed Yuqi.
Yuqi led you back to the side alley of the house. In the dining area, where you and Miyeon were before, Soyeon and Minnie were sitting along with a good number of people you already knew beforehand: Elkie, Eunbin, Yeeun, Sorn, Dawn, Wooseok, Kino, Sanghah, Juhyeon and Hina. All former, or idols under CUBE Entertainment. It was going to be a more than entertaining talk.
"Hello everyoneee!" Miyeon greeted, taking a seat in a free chair. You sat on the side. "Where is Shuhua?"
"We have no idea," Soyeon responded from across the table.
"The last time we saw her she was with a guy I don't know, two girls from STAYC, Hanni from New Jeans and... her name is Rei, right?" Yeeun said next to Soyeon, looking at Lightsum's Hina, who was also Japanese.
"Aha," Hina nodded.
"Oh, I just saw her with Hanni and Isa in the dining room," said Yuqi sitting on your left. "I didn't see the other guy or the other two."
"And why didn't you tell her to come with us?" Elkie asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Of course I did!" Yuqi protested. "But you know how that girl is, she didn't listen to me."
"It doesn't matter girls," Soyeon said. "That shouldn't be an impediment for us."
Of course, the main subject of the conversation was CUBE and why they were a huge garbage company.
You didn't have much or practically anything to contribute to the conversation, since you weren't even an employee within that company or had any connections of any kind beyond the girls. Even so, they came to you from time to time to find out what someone's point of view was like from the outside, so you enriched the conversation anyway.
Listening to their experiences was heartbreaking for you. They had all been through horrible, unfair treatment, but you were surprised by how lightly everyone talked about it. You even noticed that they took it with a certain amount of humor. You couldn't blame them, after all it was a very natural defense mechanism in everyone, but you knew how they felt. In the end you all agreed on the same thing: CUBE deserved the worst.
Over time—about an hour or an hour and a half—the group began to dissolve piece by piece, either because they were going to dance, because they were going to refill their drinks, or because they were going to talk to other people at the party. 
Soyeon also left, telling you that she also wanted to spend some time with her Lightsum hoobaes. She gave you a kiss and winked before leaving with Sanghah, Juhyeon and Hina.
In the end, only you, Miyeon, Yuqi and Minnie were left at the table.
"Now why are you two so close together all of a sudden?" Minnie asked cross-legged.
"Yeah," Yuqi nodded. "I can count the times I saw you together during these months."
You were about to jump to your defense, but Miyeon beat you to it, placing her hand on your right thigh.
"He's just looking out for me," she said. "You know, neither Sana nor Jiwoo can be with me today," she pouted and looked at Yuqi. "I thought you would know what a good company he is."
As she said that last sentence she slowly moved her hand up your thigh and squeezed it very close to your crotch, even touching your bulge with the side of her hand. You couldn't say a single word, you were frozen.
Yuqi opened her eyes wide. You noticed that her cheeks turned into an intense blush and that she shifted nervously in the seat.
Minnie wrinkled her brow and looked at Yuqi with a raised eyebrow.
"What is she talking about?" she asked.
Yuqi looked at you, looking for help. You just shook your head. She then looked at Minnie.
"Uh… oh!" She pretended someone was calling her from behind you. "Chenle is calling me!"
She stood up and ran with small jumps around the table, grabbing the skirt of her dress so as not to trip.
"Wah! And Xiaoting unnie too?" she said again, as if her flight had not been false enough already.
The three of you looked at her as she left, in disbelief. She didn't end up going anywhere. She stood in the middle of the yard looking for one of the people she had just named, but when she didn't see anyone she quickly went into the house.
"Very well, I won't be anyone's third wheel," Minnie said as soon as she locked eyes with you. "Have a good time, cuties."
Minnie stood up and blew you both a kiss before leaving as well. Only then did Miyeon remove her hand from your thigh. You looked at her, narrowing your eyes.
"What are you playing, Cho Miyeon?" you asked.
She turned to look at you with an innocent expression.
"Huh?" She was playing dumb. "I only said that because I know how much fun you guys had in L.A."
"A certain part of me caused so much fun, can you imagine what I'm talking about?"
Miyeon put a finger to her lips and wrinkled her forehead, pretending to think. In the end she shook her head.
"The truth is that I have no idea, I'll try to search my memory to see if I remember anything."
"I could help you with that, don't you think?"
"Yeah," she nodded, looking into your eyes. "I'm sure you could."
"Do you want to go inside?" You gestured towards the house.
"Yeah!"
She pushed the chair back and stood up, but when she put one foot away from it she 'tripped' and fell sitting on her side right on top of your bulge. You instinctively held her waist. Her sexy little waist.
"Oops," she said, her face inches from yours. "The heels played dirty on me."
"Thank god you landed in a safe place, then," you said, looking at her lips and then at her sideboob inside her dress.
Miyeon nodded slowly, holding onto your shoulders.
"Very comfortable, too," she added, looking at your lips. "I wouldn't mind falling here more times."
Your lips were very close to each other. You thought it was time. You could smell her breath, hot and tempting. She approached you, squeezing your shoulders with her fingers. But just as your lips touched, a commotion meters behind you interrupted you. You turned to look.
It turned out that some guys, among whom you recognized three from The Boyz and a couple from Enhypen, had brought out a ping pong table—god knows where from—and were installing it there, along with a bunch of party glasses and a ping pong ball. One of them had a bottle of vodka in his hand, which he placed in the center of the table before starting to play.
Miyeon turned her gaze to you.
"Do you want to go play?" she asked.
"I would like to play with you, not gonna lie."
She raised an eyebrow and grabbed your face, her lips pressed into a mischievous smile. She scrutinized your face and ran her thumb over your bottom lip.
"Later..." she said. "I don't feel horny enough yet."
"No rush, then," you smiled.
You made an attempt to kiss her, but she pressed her index finger against your lips and slowly shook her head before standing up. The damn proud smile she wore on her face only made you want her more.
Reluctantly you stood up and walked with her to where the crowd was gathering around the game. There you met Shuhua, accompanied by Isa and Hanni. Soon they were joined by who you assumed was the guy Yeeun told you about; with him came Yoon and Rei. You spent another little effort trying to figure out where you knew him from, and finally your mind clicked: you knew him from a viral clip of him playing Fortnite, he was a famous English-speaking streamer.
Once you took off the weight of knowing who he was, you didn't pay him any more attention. You focused on beating Cho Miyeon at beer pong.
She was kicking your ass in a somewhat humiliating way. You didn't know whether to associate it with beginner's luck or the discouraging fact that, at that moment, the universe was against you. Out of 10 balls you could score, maybe you got 3 or 4. Miyeon scored 8 of those 10.
Every gulp of vodka burned your throat and made you wrinkle your nose. It went down your entire body too quickly, as it didn't take long for you to feel dizzy. You needed a break, so you motioned for Miyeon to stop and move aside. This was a roundabout way of accepting defeat, and she didn't hesitate to tease you for it.
"Are you ok?" she asked between silly laughs, her hand on your shoulder.
You looked at her with a frown. You noticed her flushed cheeks, a sign that the alcohol was also affecting her.
"Fuck yes, perfectly," you replied, concentrating on not losing your center of gravity. "Since when the hell are you the Stephen Curry of beer pong?"
Miyeon laughed harder and hugged your neck, almost making you fall backwards with her. You wrapped your right arm around her waist and anchored your right foot behind you.
"Beginner's luck, I guess?" she said in your ear.
Yeah, that was the answer.
"Your beginner's luck just destroyed me," you grabbed her waist and subtly pushed her away because you really felt like you were going to fall.
"Let's eat something in the kitchen, that will help," she said with her hands on your chest.
"I hope you're right, come on."
You let Miyeon pull you with her. You had no choice but to trust her and let her guide you, since your body couldn't coordinate movements with your brain very well at all.
When you got to the kitchen you found at least a dozen people pouring drinks or mixing them as if they were in some kind of bizarre laboratory. Miyeon pushed everyone out of your way just with her presence, and the first thing she did when you arrived in front of the refrigerator was push you back against it.
"Wait a minute, you're in all your senses right?" she asked, both of her hands on the refrigerator on either side of your head.
You frowned. What a random question.
"Uh… yeah?" you said. "I mean, my motor sk…."
Before you could continue speaking Miyeon grabbed you by the neck and crashed her lips against yours.
Surprised and still confused, you wrapped both arms around Miyeon's waist and reciprocated her kiss. You felt that all that preparation had been worth it; her lips felt delicious, with an addictive aftertaste that made you want to go deeper and deeper. She granted you that pleasure, adding her tongue to make clear what an excellent kisser she was.
While you pressed her body against yours and made the gesture of lowering one of your hands to her ass, something happened that completely took you out of your bubble: Miyeon pushed you to the side, opened the refrigerator and took out a box of Choco Pies .
She pulled away from your lips and looked into your eyes, showing you the box with a little smile, as if nothing had happened.
"Do you want a Choco Pie?" she asked innocently.
You stayed silent for a few seconds, trying to solve the indecipherable enigma that Cho Miyeon was.
"Yeah..." you nodded, looking at the box. "Sure."
Miyeon took your hand, closed the refrigerator and led you to the area on your left: an extension of the kitchen that housed the dining room and some appliances and also led to the yard.
You sat on two empty chairs and began to eat the Choco Pies while you saw many of those present making fools of themselves. Among them was Yuqi, dancing with Elkie, Chenle, and Yiren. You put your hands to your foreheads when she tripped over her own dress and fell on her butt against the grass.
About twenty minutes and several Choco Pies later you already felt composed and ready to continue, so you went with Miyeon to the kitchen and refilled your mugs with more drink. This time you put less alcohol in yours, not wanting to push your limits further.
"Let's dance again, handsome?" Miyeon asked, looking at you with mesmerizing eyes.
You grabbed her waist, pressed the side of her body against yours and gave her a small kiss that she gladly accepted.
"Only if you promise not to hold back this time," you said against her lips.
"Oh don't worry, I won't," she assured, with a smile that should have terrified you, but instead turned you on.
This time it was you who led the way to the living room. The corner where you had previously danced was occupied by a couple who were kissing. You noticed that they were Chaeyoung from Fromis and Soobin from TXT. Who was going to say it.
You went to the opposite side of the room, just below the threshold of the passage that led to the bedroom and bathroom doors. There you were clearly blocking the way for anyone who wanted to enter, but you didn't think about it—or rather, you did but you didn't care.
Now you and her reversed her roles: her back against the wall and you cornering her against it. She wrapped her arms around your neck and you grabbed her waist. You began to dance face to face, with your lips inches from each other at all times.
Every few seconds you let your lips touch in a fleeting kiss. Your hands began to run up and down Miyeon's waist, who gently stroked the hair at the nape of your neck. You discreetly placed one of your hands behind her, on her lower back, and then lowered it to grab her buttock. It felt too good not to do it again with the other one.
The song changed to A Milli by Lil Wayne, a moment that Miyeon took advantage of to turn around and press her ass against your cock. She began to move it like you knew she knew how, making wonderful use of her hips to rub against you to the rhythm of the music.
You buried your face in her neck and breathed against it, clinging firmly to her waist as she moved her ass against you. You heard a gasp from her, and then she went against all your expectations: she reached between your bodies and reached down to grab the now hardened bulge in your pants.
You hid the surprise as best you could, in order not to draw too much attention from the people around you (they didn't give a damn anyway). You put your free hand on Miyeon's abdomen, while she squeezed your cock and massaged it through your pants. You lowered your hand to try to reach her crotch, but she gave you a pat to stop you in your tracks.
“Hold it there, cowboy,” she said in your ear. "If you want dinner, let's go upstairs."
You smiled from ear to ear and licked your lips.
"Are you horny enough yet?" you murmured, peppering the side of her face with kisses.
She gave your cock another firm squeeze.
"Pretty much," she simply replied, then bit your bottom lip.
You took a step back and grabbed her by the forearm to separate her from the wall. Then you took her hand and went to the other side of the room, towards the stairs. You went up and tried to quickly go to the master bedroom, however, you ran into an unexpected problem.
It was locked from the inside.
"Huh?" Miyeon said, frowning. "Did you close it when you came down?"
“Nope,” you shook your head. "In fact I'm pretty sure I left it open."
You tried opening it once more and then pressed your ear against the cold wood. You couldn't hear anything inside. It was to be expected: whoever was inside must have had a good scare when they saw the knob turning unsuccessfully. They were trying not to get caught.
"It doesn't matter," you said, renouncing. "Let's go to the other one."
As you walked through the short hallway that led to the other side of the second floor, you couldn't help but think about Soyeon. You were making a move without her, a giant one, how was she going to react if she found out about it? You didn't think about the consequences at the time: you were so clouded in your desire for Miyeon that you took it as a secondary problem, something you would deal with later.
You reached the end of the corridor to enter the bedroom, which luckily was open and empty.
That bedroom wasn't much smaller than the main one, in fact, they were practically the same: both with dressers and beds of the same size. The only differences at first glance were that the master bedroom had a small library room and was better furnished.
It wasn't even important. The last thing you and Miyeon paid attention to was the quality of the bedroom. You only needed a bed, and even that was optional.
As soon as you locked the door behind you, you left the mugs on a dresser, and Miyeon lunged at you with her arms around your neck to kiss you.
Without the annoying restriction of being surrounded by people you now let yourself go, wrapping your arms around Miyeon's waist and pressing her against your body in the middle of a kiss that lacked tenderness.
Miyeon clung to your neck with both hands, breathing heavily as a result of the intense exchange of saliva. You were moving stumbling to the right, towards one of the side edges of the bed, which Miyeon collided with and fell back onto the mattress. You fell on top of her.
"Would you let me eat your pussy, Miss Cho?" you asked, biting her bottom lip and pulling on it.
Miyeon let out a tiny moan and pulled the jacket off your shoulders. Her eyes burning with desire fixed on yours.
"Eat whatever you want from me," she replied with a gasp, bringing one knee up to rub against your crotch.
You dove into her pretty, soft neck, showering it with kisses as much as possible.
"Fuck… watch your words, I can use them against you," you muttered against the end of her neck, almost touching her collarbone.
That had been an invitation that you did not hesitate to reject.
Not wanting to leave her neck too quickly, you stayed there for a few more long seconds, just kissing it and filling it with eager hickeys that were soon reflected in light dark marks. Miyeon just let you work, rubbing her thigh against your cock.
You put your hands under her and reached behind her back, to untie the small knots that held the straps of her dress to her neck. With her dress already loose at the top you were able to slowly lower it, covering each new area of bare skin with deep, wet kisses. Before releasing her tits you went up again to her marked collarbone, and one last time to her neck. You went back down, and with a single pull you revealed a pair of perfect perky breasts.
You didn't hesitate for a second to put one of them in your mouth.
"Hfmmm..." Miyeon moaned, bringing her hands to your hair to tangle her fingers there.
You grabbed your right arm behind her waist and lifted her forward to bring her further into the center of the bed, sucking on her nipple and licking it up and down. She kicked off her heels and hugged her legs to your waist, as she let out small moans.
Because of this, her dress went up to the elastic area that kept it attached to her abdomen. Her beautiful pair of legs were now fully exposed to you. You placed a hand on each of her thighs, squeezing them on the underside with your fingers and then rubbing them up and down.
After leaving one nipple covered in saliva, you moved to the next. Miyeon's moans, although still small, became more desperate with every second that you didn't touch her. You brought your right hand to her crotch, rubbing her slit with your thumb over her soaked lace panties.
"Fuck, are you going to eat me or not?" she asked between gasps.
You lifted your mouth from her nipple and smiled to look at her. Her cheeks were burning with blush.
"Are we needy, Princess Cho?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Yeah..." she nodded slowly, looking at you. "Too much, so please give me what I want."
"What you want? How do you know it's not what I want too?" you said, giving kisses to the outline of her tits.
"Because it's obvious," she replied. "How can you not want to eat a princess's pussy?"
You should have seen that response coming. You laughed, and lowered the top of her dress even further, until it joined the bottom. Now every part of her dress was bunched just above her navel.
You freed yourself from the embrace of her legs and moved back onto your knees to get comfortable. With your face now at the level of her sexy belly, you covered the lower part of her abdomen with a lot of kisses that you eagerly enjoyed, and later reached her crotch.
You grabbed her panties by the curb and pulled them off her legs. You were met with a perfectly shaved and beautiful pussy, soaked in a light layer of shiny fluid, the product of so much foreplay. Miyeon held her breath, thinking you would attack her pussy all at once, but instead you moved towards her inner thighs.
"Oh, come on!" she whimpered, hitting the mattress with her clenched fists.
You had to hide your smile behind her thigh, which you kissed very slowly on purpose. Her hips writhed with subtle movements, and her chest rose and fell in desperate breaths. You moved to her other inner thigh, now kissing so close to her pussy that she let out a high-pitched squeal, grabbed your hair and buried your mouth against her pussy herself.
"Fuck, finally." she said with a sigh of pure release.
Once you were there you couldn't just back out, you would let her win just this once.
Her pussy felt so good against your lips that you were afraid you would become addicted to the sensation. You started with soft kisses and sucks between her folds; then you moved up to her clit and licked it slowly, drawing deep moans from her.
Miyeon caressed your hair and tangled her fingers in it to give it little tugs. You gripped her thighs with both hands, holding them back so they wouldn't move as you picked up a gear. Now you could tell that you were eating her pussy properly.
"Oh yeah..." she moaned, arching her back slightly. "Just like that daddy!"
You certainly didn't expect that word attributed to you from her, but it didn't bother you, on the contrary it awakened a deep instinct in you: it was the sensation of wanting to make her your property, the wild desire to show yourself as a possessive animal.
You grunted in a short breather and wrapped your arms around her thighs, hugging them, to dive back into her wet pussy.
You began to devour her with hunger, driven by the uncontrollable desire of wanting to flood your ears with her beautiful moans of pleasure. Every time she let one out of her, your hands pressed firmly against the flesh of her thighs, and your mouth, as well as your tongue, moved in the most frantic ways possible.
Miyeon writhed on her mattress, both hands outstretched at her sides with her fingers crumpling the white sheets. She was trying to close her thighs around your head, but you simply wouldn't let her; instead, she grabbed onto your hair again to push you harder against her pussy.
"Don't you dare stop!" she screeched, her thighs shaking. "Keep going, keep going!"
Seconds later Miyeon reached her wonderful, electrifying orgasm. You let go of her thighs, and she instantly trapped your head between them to grind her hips against your face. You ate her all that little while, with long tasting licks and loving kisses as her peak slowly subsided.
“Oh my god…” she gasped, letting go of your head. "Take off your clothes. You deserve a good blowjob."
You got up so quickly that in a way you were even embarrassed.
You took off your shoes first, then you moved on to your sweater and finally your pants. Miyeon settled on her stomach, her head just above the edge of the bed. In front of her was your hard throbbing bulge, which almost ripped the fabric of your boxers in its eagerness to be released.
"Come on, show me that thing daddy," she said in a provocative tone, then approached your cock and kissed the outline.
You let her worship your cock for a few more seconds. You stared at her, mesmerized by how she pressed her lips against your shaft and balls, eager to receive more. Soon you would give her what she wanted: slowly pulling down your boxers so that your cock, once freed, would slap her pretty face.
She let out a loud breath of surprise. You smiled, holding your cock by the base to rest it flat on her face.
"Just like you remembered?" you teased.
“I think even better…” she replied, opening her mouth to slide her tongue out and press it against the back of your shaft. "I should have seen it closer that time."
Miyeon's lips and tongue moved into action; she took your cock in her hand to kiss the sides of it, highlighting each path of kisses with sensual licks. She looked up at you, kissing just below your tip before swirling her tongue there.
She made a move to take you into her mouth, but as soon as your tip passed the threshold of her lips she changed her mind and went down to your balls, using her hand to rub the first few inches of your shaft while she salivated them between sucks. You growled and clenched your fists, knowing well that this was a revenge.
"Fuck, is this really necessary?" you complained.
Miyeon let out a smile as she licked your balls and around your base.
"Are we needy, daddy?" she asked, in a mocking tone.
Damn woman.
‘You reap what you sow.’ There, helpless in the face of Miyeon's torturously slow advances, you understood that saying perfectly.
You stayed as still as you could stand, watching through gritted teeth as Miyeon teased you. She repeated the same damn movement without stopping, hoping that you would finally feel the warmth of her mouth. At least what she was doing felt good: by this point your entire shaft was covered in saliva thanks to the tireless sequence of kisses and licks.
But no, damn it. You needed more. And if she had given in to her own impulses, you wouldn't be shy about giving in to yours.
You grabbed a handful of her hair in your right hand and held her still, but she, perhaps anticipating that you would do that, immediately stuck out her tongue to greet you. She had beaten you again.
"You clever bitch..." you muttered, finally taking your cock inside her mouth.
Miyeon accepted you gladly, with a deep resolute moan. She wanted it, she was crazy about the idea of having you inside her mouth, but she just wanted to make you give in to your desperation. It felt like a chess game in which you had received a checkmate.
She sucked a few inches of your cock, her hand gripping the base. Her mouth felt so good that she made you gasp multiple times from the beginning; she moved it slowly, each time taking it further. Finally she stopped a couple of centimeters past the middle. She looked up, evoking pure lust from her dilated eyes and her flushed cheeks.
She pumped her head a few times, moaning around your cock before pulling out.
"I know you'd love to fuck my face..." she murmured, placing kisses on your tip. "But I waited a month and a half for this moment."
"Ah yeah?" you said, raising an eyebrow. "Then enjoy it, slut."
"That's what I plan to do… daddy," she said, adding rasp to her voice on that last word, before returning to your cock.
You gathered Miyeon's hair and held it with one hand behind her head, in a ponytail, to make her job easier.
She slurped your cock hungrily, as if she wanted to give truth to her words. She did it slowly, with sensual, noisy pumps that covered just over half of your shaft.
You let out soft moans, hypnotized by how Cho Miyeon's pretty lips moved faster and faster on your cock. You leaned forward slightly to grab her ass, giving each of her butt cheeks a small spank that made her moan.
From that position you did not hesitate to put your fingers between her buttocks, to rub between her folds and take them inside her. Miyeon let a small moan escape her and she pulled you out of her mouth for air, giving your cock a long lick along the underside to sink back in.
Your fingers pumped in and out of her tight pussy, as she moaned between the now intense bobs of her head. Her ponytail was still firm and taut in your fist; you used it to force her to take your entire cock in a rough and messy deepthroat.
Miyeon didn't expect it; she latched onto your thighs with prickly nails, struggling to minimize the coughing as the tip of your cock rubbed against the beginning of her throat. You didn't let her go soon, not until thick drops of saliva spilled from the corner of her mouth and fell to the ground between your feet.
Once satisfied, you decided to let her go, also releasing her ponytail so that her hair flowed freely down her back. She let her head fall down and brought her fist to her lips to let more coughs come out, between labored breaths. You leaned to the side to look at her, noticing that her eyes were watering.
You took your fingers out of her pussy, and with that same hand you grabbed her chin to make her look up.
"Would you like something, princess?" you asked in a whisper, running your thumb over her lip dripping with saliva.
"Yeah..." she started to say, taking your cock to rub it slowly. "I want you to put it inside me and fuck me... raw."
Driven again by your wildest instincts, you cradled her face in your hands and forced her to her knees, to share a steamy, sloppy kiss with her.
A few seconds later you grabbed her by the waist and made her turn around on her knees, then put your hands on the back of her neck and pushed her forward, so that she fell on her hands with her ass raised. 
Miyeon's ass wasn't exactly the biggest, but it made up for it with a perfect shape and softness, like all of her; you spent a few seconds admiring it, rubbing your hands in circles on her buttocks, which you also squeezed before adding a strong spank to each one.
Miyeon squealed and leaned on her elbows. She looked at you over her shoulder, biting her lower lip.
"Enough teasing, fuck me already!" she demanded with a hint of desperation in her voice.
You smiled and applied another spank, harder. Miyeon screeched.
"You don't need to whine again, baby, I got you."
She spread her knees further and put her ass at the perfect height for you, making a beautiful arch with her lower back. Her pussy looked delicious, inviting you to destroy it. You grabbed her by her waist and pulled her back just a little, to grab your cock and press it between her folds.
As soon as she felt your tip rub against her pussy she leaned forward, away from you, and she gave you a stern look.
"What do you think you're doing?" she said. "Put on a condom right now, that's my only rule."
Coming from her, that didn't surprise you in the least. She might be one of the sluttyest members of the group, but you figured some degree of decorum she had to maintain.
"Fuck, it's okay, I'm sorry," you replied. "But don't look at me like that, I might cry."
You took a step back and picked up your pants from the floor. From it you took your wallet. You searched through the partitions until you finally found the condom; you opened it carefully, then threw the envelope on the floor and quickly put it on.
Now ready, you wasted no time and resumed your position behind Miyeon, standing in front of the edge of the bed. She returned her ass to the previous position, watching over her shoulder as you prepared yourself.
You looked into her eyes, and took your cock with one hand to bring it to her slit, where you made slight pressure forward to finally feel Miyeon's pussy slowly engulf you to the core.
She let out a loud moan and clutched at the sheets, her mouth open in an O shape and her brow furrowed as she stared into space. You held your breath, overwhelmed by how tight she felt around your shaft, which had already disappeared between her buttocks.
"God..." she muttered to herself, letting her head fall between her shoulders. "I have never felt anything like this. Please fuck me hard and show no mercy."
That was an easy task, it was your idea from the beginning after all.
The first pumps were slow, in order to stretch her walls as much as possible so that your cock would slide in more and more easily. It was a wonderful sight you never thought you would see: Cho Miyeon on her hands and knees, with her shiny hair falling down her back and her expensive dress wrapped around her waist, at the complete mercy of your cock. 
Soon you demanded more of yourself, and she did the same with her eyes.
Happy to comply with her demands you moved your hips faster, making the crashes of your pelvis more pronounced and louder. You had one hand on her left buttock, which you squeezed tightly, and the other on her waist to keep her in place as you let yourself be carried away by your own desire.
Miyeon sighed contentedly, crumpling the sheets with her fingers and biting her lip with her eyes locked on yours. Her moans filled the room, becoming more frequent and uncontrolled as the seconds passed. She let her face fall, her cheek now pressed against the mattress. Her hair covered her face, but you, needing to look at her at all times, uncovered it.
"Harder daddy..." she moaned, pressing her open hands against the mattress. "Be fucking ruthless with me... I'm ready to take it."
The response you gave was a spank that reverberated throughout the room; multiple more like this followed, each with the sole intention of making her really sting. Soon her buttocks were each glowing an intense red color.
Miyeon screamed again and again, her body being shaken between violent thrusts. She grabbed all of her hair and brushed it behind her back, then looked over her shoulder at you and gave you a suggestive look. You got the message: you grabbed her hair in a ponytail to forcefully pull it back, making her raise her head.
With a strong push you rested for a few seconds, with slow but strong pumps that left Miyeon breathless. Then without warning you returned to hammering her pussy so hard that the bed wobbled. She let out a scream, loud and desperate.
"For God's sake, keep going!" Miyeon groaned, hitting the bed and clutching the sheets again. "I'm cumming daddy! Ahhhh!"
You dragged her to her peak in a matter of seconds, pulling her closer to you so you could grab her neck and lift her back, which you pressed against your chest as you fucked her with frantic thrusts.
Miyeon exploded; you surrounded her abdomen with one arm, and with the other hand you clung to her neck. You turned her face to kiss her, drowning out her loud screams against your lips. She moved her hips back, fucking herself against your cock while you held her upright with your arms.
When her orgasm had passed you let her fall like dead weight forward; with that your cock came out of her pussy, but not for long.
She had fallen stomach flat against the mattress; you took her right leg and flexed it upwards, leaving the other extended. Then you went back inside her, with one hand on her right buttock.
Miyeon, with glassy eyes, let out a small tired moan and just relaxed.
"Come on daddy..." she murmured, feeling you deep again. "Use me for your pleasure. Let my pussy drain you."
You were too turned on at that point to be able to formulate a response. A growl rose from your throat and came out through your clenched teeth, as you fucked her again with rapid pumps, this time up and down.
Miyeon allowed herself to be used as a sex doll, an insignificant piece of meat that you could use at will to fulfill your carnal desires. She was just panting, her mouth half open with her weak eyes fixed on yours and her body being brutally railed.
The tickling in your abdomen was the indication that you were approaching that long-awaited orgasm that you had been wanting all night. You pumped quickly, your veins showing on your neck and one on your forehead.
Just as you were going to cum you pulled your cock out of Miyeon, took off the condom with a hasty yank, and masturbated over her ass until your orgasm hit.
She let out a satisfied sigh, watching as multiple jets of thick semen came out of your cock and fell onto her buttocks; these were covered with the thick liquid, forming a viscous layer that reflected the light from the ceiling.
When you discharged each drop you let out a long breath and sat back on your ankles. Miyeon put one hand on her ass and with two fingers collected some of your cum to take it to her mouth.
"Mmm..." she said, tasting it and then swallowing it. "Thank you for not being a selfish bastard and cumming outside."
"I figured you'd want to taste some after begging me like a whore," you replied, catching your breath.
Miyeon gave a low giggle and lay down on her side, letting the rest of your cum fall from her buttock onto the mattress.
"I knew from the first moment that you would know how to use that thing," she looked at your cock, still throbbing, and then at you. "I have no doubt that Soyeonie and Yuqi had a blast."
"Oh yeah? Well you looked horrified, woman," you laughed.
"How would you react if you arrived at the room where you will sleep for the next few days and found three naked people on your bed?"
You thought about it for a moment, staring into space. You then shrugged, finding no fault with her logic.
"Yes, I thought so," she continued. "Now, can you please find something to clean me with?"
"There's no bathroom in here," you pointed out. "I have no idea what I can get you."
"Just look for some clean sheets in the dressing room, I'll use that."
You nodded and stood up to go inside the dressing room. You took out a thin black sheet from one of the drawers in the third closet at the back. When you returned to the bedroom you threw it at Miyeon, who hurried to clean herself.
She then invited you to lie down and cuddle together to take a break.
After about ten minutes—maybe a little more, since Miyeon's body felt very comfortable in your arms—you got up and dressed again. She did her best to look as presentable as before, giving her makeup a few minor touch-ups and combing her hair.
Once Miyeon was as pretty, elegant and superb as always, you took your mugs back and left the bedroom laughing.
"Did you have a good time?" said a high-pitched voice behind you, as you exited the small hallway that led to the glass railing area.
You and Miyeon almost died of a heart attack. You turned around. Leaning against the wall to the left of the hallway was Soyeon, with her arms crossed and one eyebrow raised, staring at you.
That was the closest you'd ever come to knowing how those condemned to be executed by guillotine felt.
Your heart beated fast and strong. You gulped and gave a small glance at Miyeon—who was a living reflection of yourself—before taking a step forward.
"Soyeon, I-"
She pushed herself away from the wall and raised her hand to interrupt you.
"Shut up you fool," she snapped, putting her arms on her hips. "I'm not mad."
You and Miyeon wrinkled your brows and exchanged glances.
"Aren't you?" you asked, looking back at Soyeon.
"No, on the contrary, I'm even hornier because of this," she looked at Miyeon, who avoided her gaze. "You loved that cock, huh? With all that daddy daddy daddy. I could hear your screams from here."
Miyeon's cheeks burned with blush, no longer in pleasure like before, but in shame. She stammered a few clumsy syllables, looking at the floor.
"I know you did," Soyeon cut her. "You don't need to say anything," she looked at you. "Walk back, come on," she ordered, gesturing toward the bedroom.
The two of you led the way back, with Soyeon behind, as if she were a teacher taking two unruly students to her office.
You walked back into the bedroom, embarrassed by the fact that you hadn't even bothered to fix it when you came out. The black sheet was still there, with a white glob exposed to the naked eye. Soyeon didn't say anything about it, but it was something else that caught her attention.
"A condom huh?" Soyeon asked with a giggle, picking up the torn envelope from the floor. "How responsible."
Miyeon couldn't find a rock to hide under to appease the embarrassment; she had cheeks so red that you could mistake her for a dull-colored apple.
"I always fuck with a condom, please shut up," she finally dared to say, crossing her hands on her belly.
"Ah, really?" Soyeon raised an eyebrow, approaching you after placing the envelope on the nightstand. "Adorable. But it takes all the fun out of it."
Soyeon jumped with her heels still on and clung to you with her arms and legs to crash her lips against yours. She took you by surprise, but you accepted it: wrapping your girlfriend's petit frame with your arms.
Her intentions were not unknown to you: you already knew her well enough to know that what she was looking for was for you to throw her into bed; but to give it a little twist you let yourself fall on your back, so that Soyeon fell on top of you.
"Guys... uhm," Miyeon said to your right, sitting on the corner of the bed as the two of you kissed. "Are you just gonna pretend I don't exist or what?"
You broke away from the kiss to look at Miyeon, but before you said anything, Soyeon put her hand over your mouth and made you look at her. Those eyes made the message clear to you without her needing to say anything: 'Shut your mouth.'
Normally, that woman always had an elaborate plan in her prodigious head, so you didn't question her, even though part of that plan included completely ignoring Miyeon.
It wasn't until Soyeon attacked your neck with kisses that your mind lit up. The memory of what she had told you hours before came to you: 'It's easier to make her give in on her own.' There, looking at the ceiling between gasps, everything made sense to you.
Mother of god, Soyeon was evil.
From that moment on everything happened very quickly: in a matter of a couple of minutes you and Soyeon were already completely naked; you had groped and kissed every corner of your body before the expectant eyes of Miyeon, who couldn't stop moving nervously in the corner of the bed. She wanted to get into the action, her eyes showed it, but she wouldn't be the one to take the step.
You had settled yourself in the center of the bed; Soyeon had an idea that only strengthened the desire she had to make Miyeon desperate: she had turned around on top of you, adopting a 69 position only for Miyeon to see her sucking your cock while you ate her pussy.
"I want to at least be touched by you, just a measly little finger, please!" Miyeon whimpered.
Soyeon took your cock out of her mouth—which she had been sucking with an uncontrollable frenzy—, reached out to grab her own panties, and shoved them roughly into Miyeon's mouth to shut her up.
Miyeon let out a moan with Soyeon's panties inside her mouth: a moan that was more like a complaint than anything else, but your girlfriend had done her job. Despite your limited vision—with Soyeon's entire ass and pussy in your face—you could notice that she was now undressing at record speed.
"Pleaseee!" Miyeon whined again. "Either of you two, I'm begging!"
When she received no response from either of you, she began to touch herself. Her patience was already bordering on non-existence, and you could understand it more than perfectly; the worst thing you could do to a person like her was to deprive her of the attention she demanded.
The constant and somewhat exaggerated moans that Soyeon emitted with your cock inside her mouth didn't help either. You were eating her with hunger and dedication, squeezing her ass in the middle of passionate licking.
Miyeon's moans, small and adorable, now joined Soyeon's; these intensified when you brought your girlfriend to her orgasm.
Her body writhed on top of yours; her muscles were tensing and her joints were shaking. She could not have taken your cock out of her mouth, in fact she never did when you made her cum in that position, but this time she did it just to torture Miyeon.
"Fuck me now!" she said, hoping that her turn would be next.
You thought that was your entrance onto the scene; Soyeon had already gotten off you and was sitting on your side. Miyeon's gaze immediately fell on your cock, soaked and throbbing; it was a predatory, eager look.
But the evil did not die, it did not disappear. It rested and woke up when it was poked with a stick.
"No one's going to touch you until you say the words, baby." Soyeon said, brushing her hair off her sweaty forehead and brushing it behind her back.
Miyeon frowned, tilting her head with her mouth open.
"Are you kidding me?" she asked. "What words?! Jeon Soyeon!"
Soyeon ignored her—again—and climbed on top of you. She rested her feet on either side of your hips on the mattress, facing away from you, and took your cock inside her with a single downward thrust. You, like her, moaned out loud.
Miyeon's pussy was tight, but nothing was a match for your girlfriend; it was simply another level of grip and constriction around your cock.
You held on to Soyeon's waist with your hands, while she jumped up and down on your cock in a reverse cowgirl position, so that Miyeon could see in detail how with each jump Soyeon took you in and out completely.
"What the fuck are you talking about, dammit!" Miyeon moaned, hitting the bed as she rubbed her clit in circles with her other hand. "I just want you to fuck me and treat me like the princess I am!"
No word from you two, just moans, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh, and a fluid-soaked cock moving in and out of a tight pussy.
Soyeon jumped non-stop, with the seemingly inexhaustible energy that characterized her. Her loose hair formed a curtain that prevented you from seeing your cock disappear between her legs, so you gathered it all into a ponytail and held it in your fist.
After a few seconds she suddenly stopped and looked at you over her shoulder.
"Fuck me, baby," she said, panting. "Fill me with that load."
You let go of her hair and brought your hands to her waist, then planted your feet on the mattress and pumped quickly up and down, intensifying your own pleasure and consequently, your moans.
Adding to the cacophony of lewd sounds coming from you and Soyeon were more moans from Miyeon, including the constant slapping of her palm against her pussy as she fingered herself.
If you were going to fill your girlfriend's pussy to give Miyeon a good show, you were going to do it in style.
You made Soyeon fall back with a tug on her hair, her back now pressed against your chest; then you lifted her legs up and hugged them around the back of her knees, and now fucked her in full nelson.
"Oh fuck yes baby," Soyeon groaned. "Fuck that tight little pussy, destroy it, fill it deep!"
Soyeon's words came true a few seconds later.
The aggressive and rapid pumps brought you too quickly to an intense orgasm; it electrified your entire body, causing you to be unable to stop moaning as you filled your girlfriend's pussy between slower pumps.
"God... it feels so warm, so fucking delicious." Soyeon said after a long moan.
The load was too big and thick, to the point that you felt your cum leak out of Soyeon's walls and down your shaft until it pooled around your base. For Miyeon, the shock must have been such that she even stopped fingering herself.
It was happening.
"For the love of God, I can't take it anymore!" she screamed out of nowhere, like she was about to cry. "Fuck the condom, I just want to be fucked and breeded right now! I'm begging!"
Soyeon nodded satisfied. The princess had relented.
"Then start by coming here and cleaning, you needy little whore." Soyeon said between pants.
The speed with which Miyeon lunged forward made her look like a jumpscare from Five Nights at Freddy's. It even made you laugh a little.
She herself took out your cock from inside Soyeon's pussy, to greedily clean both parts soaked with cum. First she licked and slurped every drop that leaked from inside your girlfriend's pussy, and later she moved on to your cock to lick it all over. Soon your entire load—which had not been small—was swallowed by her.
When the work was done Soyeon got off you and looked at you. She nodded, giving you the green light.
Damn, finally.
The first thing you did was sit up and wrap your arms around Miyeon's body, pressing her against you and kissing her. Miyeon moaned against your lips, running her hands all over your body; one of these went to your cock, only to rub it gently with her palm as she knew you should still be sensitive.
After a few seconds you grabbed her thighs and pushed her back. She fell face up, instinctively with her legs wide open; Soyeon attacked them with kisses and bites, and you went to the upper body, to eat her tits and kiss her from her neck to her abdomen.
Soyeon began to eat her pussy, eliciting a moan from her that could be translated into sincere gratitude. You meanwhile knelt on the side of Miyeon's face, took your cock in one hand and rubbed it all over her face.
“Fuck my pretty face daddy, please,” Miyeon moaned, kissing your cock and looking at you with a pair of glistening eyes.
"I thought you were never going to ask for it."
Miyeon opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue, you took your cock in there with a long sigh.
You grabbed the sides of her head with both hands and lifted her to turn her towards you; then you started moving your hips back and forth.
She moaned against your cock, which was going in and out almost all the way; the only thing stopping you from going all the way in with each pump was that little limit she had that you didn't want to push carelessly either.
Soyeon brought her to an orgasm too quickly, but that didn't stop the two of you; she continued to eat her out furiously, and you continued to fuck her mouth faster and harder.
Miyeon screamed with pleasure around your cock, which she also licked from behind with her tongue as it went in and out of her mouth. Her body shook between sharp spasms, her pussy grinding against Soyeon's mouth.
Eager to give her more pleasure, you leaned just enough to the right so you could reach out and rub her clit in quick circles, driving her even crazier.
She could no longer close her mouth around your cock due to the uncontrolled series of moans coming out of it, causing all of her saliva to spill out of her mouth and soak your shaft.
You grabbed a handful of her hair on the top of her head, using it to push her against your cock as you pumped, feeling yourself getting closer to cumming with each passing second.
Then Miyeon came again, twice as hard and twice as pleasurable for you to feel.
Soyeon had to make a tremendous effort to keep her pinned to the bed, holding her thighs. You on the other hand reached your peak after a few seconds, now cumming inside Miyeon's mouth.
“That's it, fuck…” you moaned, pumping slowly as you shot your cum down her throat. "Take it all, slut."
Miyeon swallowed your entire load diligently, even though she could barely control her body and the sounds emanating from her throat; you could hear the little chokes she had as she tried to swallow every drop.
"Damn, I need a break," you said between heavy breaths. You looked at Soyeon. "Honey, all yours."
You pulled out of Miyeon's mouth and went to lay your head on one of the pillows on the side of the bed. You made yourself as comfortable as possible, to enjoy the show that was coming.
Soyeon then left Miyeon's pussy, only to climb on top of her and straddle the princess's face. She moaned immediately, and you knew Miyeon's tongue had been the cause.
Unwilling to give Miyeon a break, your girlfriend leaned forward and took her two fingers inside her; you heard her muffled scream under Soyeon's ass, who held onto her thigh with her free hand, while with her other she quickly pumped her fingers.
"Mmm, come on princess, I know you know how to do it," Soyeon moaned after a couple of minutes, grinding her hips into Miyeon's face as she moved her wrist at supersonic speed.
You frowned, not knowing what she meant by that. But when you saw Miyeon raise her hips you knew, and you prepared accordingly.
After a few seconds Miyeon came, and an immense, pressurized squirt came out of her pussy; she wet you from your knee to part of your foot, also staining the sheets beneath her as the stream lost strength.
"What the fuck..." you muttered, watching as Miyeon's hips trembled. "Since when does she know how to do that?"
You received no response as the next one to cum was Soyeon. She held onto Miyeon's thighs and buried her face in her pussy, while she ground her trembling hips against her face.
The next few seconds were probably just muffled moans against flesh, until Soyeon, already tired, got off Miyeon with a heavy, satisfied sigh.
Miyeon's chest rose and fell violently, as if she had run two marathons in a row. You sat up to look at her; her eyes immediately met yours.
"Are you okay, Miyeonie?" you asked, kneeling next to her.
"Daddy..." she took a deep breath, trying to get her brain working for a moment. "Fuck me, please... Fuck me and put a huge fucking seed inside me."
You raised both eyebrows in amusement.
"And you're sure you can handle it?" you pointed to her shaking legs.
"I didn't ask for your mercy, you damned fool," she snapped with a frown. "I asked you to put a baby in my damn belly."
A laugh escaped Soyeon. You exchanged glances with her, impressed by that last bit.
"Just give her what she wants, otherwise the spoiled bitch will cry again," she said, kneeling next to her.
"Well," you shrugged. "Clearly I'm not going to refuse."
You grabbed Miyeon by her thighs and pulled her close to you; she then spread her legs wide open, giving you the green light to penetrate her pussy with a single thrust.
She greeted you with a whimper. You held on to her waist and then she held on to your wrists, receiving quick thrusts from the start. Soyeon joined in immediately, getting on her hands and knees to kiss Miyeon's lips and tits.
Miyeon's thighs served as a grip for the next few seconds; you squeezed them under your fingers, hard and backwards, pressing them against her upper body. You were already hammering her pussy hard, mercilessly, just like you knew she wanted it.
Soyeon slipped a hand between Miyeon's legs, where she once again set out to stimulate her clitoris so quickly that it brought her to another inevitable orgasm.
Miyeon squirmed and rolled her eyes, her mouth permanently open. You felt her legs shake and her back bend upward as her spasms attacked her, but that didn't stop you, on the contrary you went even stronger.
"You better get ready, bitch," Soyeon told Miyeon, removing her hand from between her thighs. "You will have no rest until that load is inside you."
She was absolutely right. You weren't planning on giving that woman a break after making a whole scene of whining and tantrums to get fucked. You would give her what she deserved.
No sounds of any kind came out of Miyeon, only hints of moans that got stuck in her throat and disappeared with each thrust. Her eyes were half-closed; in them you could only glimpse a fixed white spot. Her hands were paralyzed as well, one on each side of her hips, with her fingers bent downwards and her nails digging into the sheet.
Another orgasm shook her as if she had received the shock of a defibrillator, but that didn't stop you either. You adjusted her position a little: you extended her left leg and sat on top of her thigh, and put her other leg on top of your shoulder. In this way you continued pumping between grunts.
Miyeon had reverted to her sex doll status, to a piece of meat whose only purpose was to drain your cock. There was a moment when she finally opened her eyes and looked at you; you only saw two wells of tears, which spilled down her cheeks and ruined some of her makeup.
She reached out a hand towards you, brushing your abdomen with the tips of her fingers as you fucked her.
"Give me your seed daddy..." she managed to say with complete serenity, even though her body was shaken non-stop and was full of sweat. "Put it all inside me… every drop… I beg you."
Soyeon put her hand to her mouth, watching the whole scene. She shook her head.
"Jesus Christ, what a fucking whore," she said.
Miyeon came one last time, and a few seconds later you followed. You gritted your teeth; your entire jaw clenched and your fingers gripping the flesh of her thigh as you sank inward. You shot every drop of cum that was left in your balls, making sure to leave that load deep inside her pussy.
"Oh fuck yes..." Miyeon whimpered, bringing her hands to her face and combing her hair back, overcome with pleasure. "My god, it feels so fucking good... put it all in, fuck, all of it. Don't you dare waste any drop."
You pumped slowly, with your mouth half open and your gaze fixed on Miyeon's weak, teary eyes. She arched her back and shifted on the bed, her nails digging into your lower abdomen.
Seconds later every possible drop of cum was inside her. You knew you did a good job when you pulled out of her pussy and only a small trickle managed to leak past her folds.
Already completely exhausted and drained, you fell next to Miyeon, lying on your side and supported by your elbow. You looked at her, realizing that she had fallen asleep instantly. You then exchanged glances with Soyeon, who was staring at you from before.
"What?" you asked.
"I want you to know that whatever happens in that womb is your responsibility."
You thought about it for a second and then realized that Miyeon shouldn't be on birth control for the mere fact that she always used a condom.
But fuck it, there were solutions and you didn't have time to think about it. You plopped down, head now lying on the mattress on the side of Miyeon's face.
"I'll go out in the morning to buy her the pill," you said, closing your eyes.
"It can't be more than 12 hours, otherwise it won't be as effective," she pointed out.
"Don't worry honey, I've got it under control," you nodded, clasping your hands on your abdomen. "Are you coming to cuddle?"
Soyeon stood up and crawled until she was on top of you, straddling you and covering your face with kisses.
"I would love to, handsome," she said between kisses. "But I can't disappear for the rest of the night and leave Yuqi and Minnie alone and drunk."
You laughed and opened your eyes, wrapping your arms around her.
"The last time I saw Yuqi she fell on her ass, and she wasn't even that drunk.
"Then I must go with greater haste to put things in order, lest a disaster occur."
Soyeon gently cradled your face in her hands and planted a soft kiss on your lips before standing up.
"You stay and take care of the princess. Rest," she continued. "It's up to you if you want to rejoin the party, but she won't wake up until morning."
You gave a thumbs up.
"I'll be down there in an hour, you have my word."
"I'll be waiting there, honey," she replied as she got dressed.
Soyeon left the bedroom a few minutes later, leaving you alone with the sleeping beauty.
You were forced to place her with you on the opposite side of the bed, on top of the pillows. You tried to separate her from you so she had space, but as soon as she felt your warmth she clung with her arms and legs to you like a koala.
Trying to push her away was useless, but it didn't bother you either; you were so exhausted that you just wanted to close your eyes and rest.
And so you did, since after a few minutes you had already fallen asleep. The last thought you had was the inevitable anguish that if luck wasn't on your side, you would have gotten Princess Cho pregnant.
———————————————-
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yandere-daydreams · 11 hours
Text
Title: Puppy Love.
Pairing: Yandere!Yuuji x Reader x Yandere!Yuuta
Word Count: 2.6k.
TW: Hybrid AU, Puppy!Yuuta, Puppy!Yuuji, Fem!Reader, Non/Con, Somnophilia, Biting, Oral Sex, Unhealthy Relationships, and Obsessive Behavior.
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You heard Yuuji, first.
 He’d always been the louder of the pair, not that it was a very steep competition. You hadn’t had him for very long, but—well, it was less that he came out of his shell quickly and more that he’d never had a shell at all. It only taken a day or so for him to get used to the idea of living with you and Yuuta full-time, a week for him to start acting like he’d always been a part of your little family, and another month before he started pawing at your bedroom door at night and whining when you reminded him that you preferred to sleep alone (meaning: without multiple two-hundred pound hybrids draped across you). He was energetic, overly friendly, even if you wouldn’t go so far as to call him disobedient or difficult. You figured having a more, for lack of better phrasing, dog-like hybrid in the house would be good for Yuuta, bring out his more instinctive side. In reality, the added stress of an overly hyper roommate had only worked to make him just a little more anxious than he already was, but you still thought it was good for him. If nothing else, Yuuji gave Yuuta something to focus on that wasn’t you, and Yuuta could use more distractions.
But Yuuji, though—He was what you should’ve been focusing on, at the moment. Through the haze of exhaustion, you could hear the door creaking open, the muffled sound of padded feet on carpeting and the tiny, almost inaudible vocalizations Yuuji never seemed to realize anyone else could hear. Soon enough, you felt the foot of the mattress dip as he clambered onto your bed. Any other night, you would’ve forced yourself to sit up and tell him to leave, would’ve called on the dozens of books and hundreds of blogposts you’d read about hybrid obedience training and found the strength to ‘reinforce boundaries despite personal feelings’, but you were tired beyond the point of discipline, and Yuuji didn’t mean any harm. One night of letting him curl up next to you wouldn’t hurt, even if you did make a mental note to show Yuuta some extra affection in the morning – just to keep the scales balanced. For all their many differences, they were both prone to crying favoritism.
You never stirred, but you settled deeper into place, curling into yourself as Yuuji remained at your feet. You might’ve fallen asleep entirely, if Yuuji hadn’t spoken.
His voice was quiet, low, audibly trepidatious. It reminded you of Yuuta’s nervous, stuttering inclination, although not quite as unsteady. “Are you sure it’s alright to…?”
“I am.” You weren’t sure who you expected to answer, but the sound of Yuuta’s voice almost startled you awake. It was normal for Yuuji to bend the rules. Yuuta was supposed to know better. “She’s asleep, right? Just don’t wake her up.”
Yuuji didn’t respond, but you felt the sheets draped over your shift, a warm hand curl around your calf. For as little reassurance as Yuuta had provided, it seemed to be enough for Yuuji.
It was half curiosity and half fatigue that kept you quiet as Yuuji moved around you. Whatever they might’ve been up to, nothing could’ve seemed worse than having to wake up and sacrifice much-needed sleep for the sake of scolding your (usually angelic) pets. At worst, you’d wait until you could catch them in the act or, better yet, grit your teeth and bare it until they left. Anything not to have to deal with this for another eight hours.
You rolled onto your side, twisting your leg out of Yuuji’s hand and letting out a soft groan as you curled into yourself. It wasn’t a subtle position, let alone an inviting one, but Yuuji only whimpered, only edged closer to you. This time, when he touched you, it was to take up your shoulder – his hold gentle and breathing heavy as he nudged you onto your back. Whatever he was doing, he seemed determined to see it through. It might’ve been more admirable, if you hadn’t been so confused.
You felt your sheets pull away from you next, then another hand on your ankle, Yuuji’s rough claws pressing lightly into your skin as his loose grip flexed. You felt him draw your legs apart, and with the corner of your mouth already quirking downward, you started to open your eyes, to sit up and—
Suddenly, you felt something wet and warm press into your cunt, and you stopped moving entirely.
Whatever lingering exhaustion you might’ve felt was swiftly replaced with cold, pointed terror. This time, you forced yourself to hold still, it wasn’t out of confusion or curiosity, but an abrupt and paralyzing fear.
It wasn’t a feeling Yuuji seemed to share. His tongue was already moving across the length of your slit, his drool already soaking into the silk of your panties. He was making those noises, again; deep and throaty, closer to the sounds a prowling animal would make than anything remotely similar to human speech. Both of his hands found their way to your ass, claws biting into the plush flesh as he buried his face in your pussy. He was just as rough with his mouth – his pointed canines ghosting over the inside of your thighs and catching on the material of your panties, his broad togue laving over your covered entrance as if he could taste you through the fabric. It was only when he bowed his head, when the bridge of his flat nose ground against your clit that you started to wonder if he actually could, but forced yourself not to linger on the idea for very long. Thinking about what he was doing, assigning a motive to his actions – that would only make this worse. Thinking at all would only make this worse.
You bit down on the side of your tongue with as much force as you could afford to use, willing yourself to hold still, to not react – a wounded animal, playing dead as to not attract the attention of a predator. You felt Yuuji’s hands shift, calloused fingertips pressing into your thighs, then—
“Stop.”
Yuuta. Wonderful, miraculous, well-behaved Yuuta. You would’ve sighed, if you weren’t holding yourself so stiff. You could hear him moving closer, too – his footsteps feather-light compared to Yuuji’s. You braced yourself to break up a fight (there’d been a few when Yuuji first came home with you, when you first realized that Yuuta had never learned to share), but rather than barking, growling, any of the sounds that came with two animals trying to tear each other apart, there was only rustling fabric, another shift in gravity as Yuuta positioned himself by your side. “Y-you’re doing it wrong,” he stammered, and something deep inside of you seemed to curl up and die. “You have to take her clothes off first. Otherwise, she won’t feel anything.”
It was almost strange, hearing him take charge. In any other context, you might’ve been proud.
Yuuji whined, but obliged. His nails scraped against your hips as he balled his fist around the fabric and tore, making no effort to spare the delicate fabric. The remaining scraps were discarded with just as little care, and before you could fully wrap your mind around what was happening, he was back to lapping at your cunt. With the only barrier between you gone, it felt less like he was trying to eat you out and more like he was trying to eat you alive – his tongue too thick and too long, his hands too big and too prone to groping at whatever was underneath him, the boundless energy you were so used to finding either infinitely adorable or impossibly exasperating sudden not quite as harmless than you’d always considered it to be.
The next time he found your clit, you couldn’t stifle your reactions – little, half-choked whimpers and moans escaping despite your pursed lips. Your hips twitched, and for the first time, you felt Yuuji draw back willingly. He was such a sweet dog. Even with your eyes clenched shut, you could picture him tilting his head to the side, his ears flopping in the same direction and his big, dark eyes going full puppy-dog. Usually, you’d melt at the sight, give him whatever he was asking for and comfort him the best you could, but you didn’t have much comfort to spare, and Yuuta was already answering on your behalf.
“That means she likes it,” he explained, his voice a little quieter, a little more airy than it’d been before. “Keep going, she’ll make more.”
There was a short lapse, passed in silence. For a second, you let yourself believe he’d come to his senses, that he might stop, but it was only for a second. His response was enough to dash any remaining hope you might’ve had. “…will she get louder?”
“Mhm.” And then, with the slightest note of pride, “She does for me, at least.”
And just like that, Yuuji’s head dipped, his mouth latching onto your pussy with a renewed concentration. You willed yourself not to move, not to think, not to do anything that would mean having to open your eyes and acknowledge what was happening, but it was impossible not to feel the heat of his mouth against your cunt, not to let the sounds of saliva and arousal against tongues and skin seep into the back of your mind and tint the pleasure slowly starting to pool at the pit of your stomach with a vicious, sickeningly sweet, nectar-like quality. It wasn’t long before your own pitiful noises were just as difficult to suppress, before your hips were jutting upward involuntarily to meet Yuuji’s mouth, before you could feel a mix of drool and slick and every other ungodly thing pooling on your sheets beneath you. Yuuta shifted beside you, edging close enough for his thigh to press against your arm. “You’re—You’re making a mess, she’ll be mad if—”
His voice cut out abruptly, drowned out by a sudden, bubbling moan from Yuuji. Yuuta tried to catch his attention again to the same result until, finally, there was a low growl. Yuuji yelped has his face was shoved further into the space between your thighs – Yuuta pushing down on the back of his head, as little as you wanted to picture your sweet Yuuta doing something like that – but he didn’t seem to mind. If anything, his lapping only seemed to get faster, more reckless, more wild. You didn’t want to, no part of you wanted to cum because of your pet’s mouth, but you could feel the pressure mounting, the heat building, the walls of your pussy convulsing around his tongue as you reached your climax.
There was nothing you could do to stop yourself from crying out as you came, any hope you might’ve had of making it through this without letting either Yuuji or Yuuta know how much of it you’d been conscious for immediately abandoned. You tried to make good use of your adrenaline, to shove Yuuji away and run, but he’d always been strong, even for a hybrid, and he didn’t even have to pull away to pin your hips to the mattress and nurse you through your orgasm, his tongue now fucking into you unabashedly. He only stopped when the last of your aftershocks had died out, when it was all you could do to lie limp and mutter all the little ‘no’, ‘stop’, ‘please’s that you’d pictured yourself screaming only seconds ago. Even then, the separation wasn’t made by choice – no, it was Yuuta who finally, finally dragged him off of you. Even through the darkness of your bedroom, you could see his fingers knotted in Yuuji’s untamable hair, his knuckles white and his grip steadfast. By the time he let go, Yuuji’s back was straight and he’d gone surprisingly quiet – his dark eyes glassy and fixed on yours. By the time you could force yourself to look to Yuuta, he wasn’t much better. He was focused on you, too, but he didn’t look quite as dazed, quite as mindless. His lips were parted, but his eyes were narrowed, and he was wearing the expression he’d worn when you first brought Yuuji home, all displaced resentment and palpable betrayal. If you hadn’t known him so well, you might’ve called it anger.
Yuuji broke the silence. He whined sharply, slumping forward and kneading down where his hands were still planted on your hips. You opened your mouth, ready to tell him to get down, to get out, but Yuuta cut in before you had the chance to spit anything out. “Turn her over. It’ll be easier if she’s on her stomach.”
Yuuji didn’t hesitate. You felt his hands on your midriff, and then, you were on your chest, Yuuji’s form hunched over you as he ground something stiff and hot and leaking against your ass. You tried to push yourself up, to get away, but you were barely able to get your knees underneath you before Yuuji’s arms were around your waist, his face buried in the crook of your neck and his pointed teeth bared against the side of your throat. He didn’t growl, didn’t bite, but you went still regardless. You didn’t think Yuuji would hurt you, but you never would've thought he would do this, either.
Whatever aggression he might’ve felt faded quickly – as soon as he started rutting against your ass. You could feel him panting against your throat, his breath humid and stifling, and his chest pressing into your back. He was too close. He was too much. When he spoke, it was almost deafening, even if you knew it couldn’t be much more than a mumble. “Hurts so bad,” he muttered, as his cock ground uselessly against your ass, your thighs. “Been hurtin’ so bad since you took me home. I was so happy when Yuuta told me you could help, and—and, that you wouldn’t mind, and—”
His voice cut out abruptly as the blunt head of his cock caught on your entrance and, with a cracked whine, thrust into you. There was no time to adjust, to block out – just a sudden heat inside of you and the immediate, overwhelming fullness of his cock battering the walls of your pussy. “Off,” you half cried, half screamed – your voice a jagged, shaking mess. “Get down, stop, get—”
But Yuuji wasn’t listening. His tongue lapped clumsily at your neck as he fucked into in slow, languid thrusts – his hips slamming into your ass with enough force to bruise. You went limp, sobbing openly into your sheets, but Yuuji was strong enough to hold you up on his own, to not have to care what state you were in underneath him. So caught up in your own misery, you didn’t notice Yuuta moving until he was in front of you, until his hand had worked its way underneath your chin and tilted your head back far enough for your tear-clouded gaze to find his. His expression was that same mix of resentment and pity and bitter, bitter anger. Still, when your eyes met his, the corner of his lips quirked up, some of the harsher lines around his eyes fading into nothing.
“I wouldn’t be this rough with you.” His tone was flat, softened. He ran his thumb over your cheek, leaning down just far enough for his lips to brush against the top of your head. “I would be a good mate. You don’t need anyone else.”
Again, he leaned in, slotting his lips against yours with a feather-light sort of gentleness. At the same time, you heard Yuuji moan, felt his teeth sink into your shoulder, and started to wish you couldn’t feel anything at all.
548 notes · View notes
sincerelyneo · 2 days
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could i request a mark smut 😣😣 where reader and mark just had an intense argument but in the end, they cant be mad at each other for long so they just fck it out of each other 🤐🤐🤐🤐
mad at you | l.mk
“then i try to leave, but baby i just can’t stay mad at you”
💿now playing: mad at you by why don’t we
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❯ summary: Mark learns that you’ve made a ‘selfish’ decision that’s bound to put a strain on your relationship. Next thing you know, you're knee-deep in an argument that somehow ends with you sprawled out beneath him; because, let’s be honest, he’s never really been any good at staying mad at you.
❯ pairings: idol!mark x fem!reader
❯ genre: angst, smut, established relationship, make up sex
❯ words: 4.3k
❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, lots of arguing, swearing, reader is lowkey dramatic, makeup sex, unprotected sex (don't do this!), nipple play, dry humping, brief clit play, slight needy mark bc i can't help myself, creampie, reader uses she/her pronouns, reader and mark argue and resolve it by fucking.
an: i love writing angsty arguments (testament to my real relationships lol) so thank you so much for this request. it lowkey brought me out of writer’s block.
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The honeymoon stage lasts approximately thirty months or two and a half years – which would make sense considering you and Mark were approaching your third year together and have argued more recently than you ever had. 
But this time it’s different. You’ve never seen Mark like this, so angry that his face is bordering red and his jaw ticks so hard it might crack as the both of you drive in complete silence from your work dinner. He doesn’t even bother sneaking his usual glances at you when he pulls up at stoplights, the hand he likes to place on your thigh is gripping the wheel instead, and the only noise in the car is his rugged and frustrated exhales. 
You could feign ignorance about why he's upset, but you know the reason all too well. And while a part of you acknowledges his right to be angry, another, more prideful part, resists the idea of apologising, especially when you think his reaction seems so disproportionate to your mistake.
So you sit in the passenger seat, arms crossed and body frozen, contributing to the cold silence settling between the two of you. You prepare yourself for the earful of a lecture you’re about to get when he pulls up outside your shared apartment. 
He parks the car, slams the door shut, and strides towards your building without a backward glance. You scoff at his pettiness; he's never been so angry that he wouldn't at least wait for you to get out of the car with him. He doesn't even slow down when you trail behind. And when he nearly lets the elevator doors close without you, any chance he has of receiving an apology from you flies out the window, you think. 
He does, however, show some decency by leaving the front door open for you as you both step out of the elevator and head towards your apartment – how chivalrous. 
The chivalry doesn’t last long because the minute he hears you clasp the door shut, he’s glaring at you, arms crossed tightly over his chest, and you can't help but notice that he's rolled up the sleeves of his dress shirt in frustration. If he weren't on the brink of yelling at you, you'd be tempted to make him do more than just roll up those sleeves — you'd want the fabric torn off and thrown on the floor in an instant.
“Paris, Y/N?!” Mark seethes, voice deep and uneven. “You signed a fucking contract to work in Paris?!?”
You pause, attempting to gather your thoughts, but the momentary silence doesn't offer much clarity. Eventually, you settle on, "It's just a six-month gig..." – a statement that seems to send him into a frenzy. 
“Just six months?” He rubs his jaw repeatedly in disbelief, “That’s six months that we won’t get to see each other, did you even think about that huh?”
You scoff, “You’re one to talk, need I remind you that your job takes you away from me for months at a time.”
"That's not fair," he protests. "You knew exactly what you were getting into when you agreed to date me. I didn’t agree to not seeing my girlfriend for months because she’s gallivanting away in Paris without me."
Your eyes narrow and your nostrils flare, “So what? If you would have known, you wouldn’t have wanted to be my boyfriend?”
His eyes widen and he shakes his head. His hands fly to his hair and he tugs at the strands as he huffs out a breath. 
“How the fuck did you get that conclusion from what I said?” He asks, voice sounding baffled. “The reason I’m so mad is because I like being your boyfriend, but I’m not going to see you for the next six months.”
“You’re being a hypocrite right now.”
He rolls his eyes and scoffs, “Right, because I’m always the one being unreasonable.”
“Yes, you are,” you scorn, “This job is my dream, don’t you see how selfish you're being?”
“I’m selfish?” He gasps, “That’s rich considering you didn’t even consult me when making this decision, I had to find out from your smug little co-worker in front of everyone. You were thinking solely about yourself, Y/N.”
You're on the verge of screaming. How is he not seeing things from your perspective? He's usually so understanding, so open to hearing your side. But the razor-sharp look in his eyes tells you that there's no getting through to him. He's convinced you're wrong, and nothing will change his mind.
“It’s for my job, Mark,” you cross your arms and shrug. 
“And how many times have I told you that you don’t need to work? How many times do I need to tell you I can look after the both of us?”
“And how many times have I told you that I don’t want that? I don’t want to have to always rely on you!” You snap. 
Your teeth grit as the words spit out of your mouth. They seem to hit Mark, deep, his eyes softening for a fleeting moment before sharpening again. He swallows thickly and blinks before running a hand through his hair. 
“Then what are we doing, Y/N?” He asks deflated, “What are we if you don’t want to rely on me?”
You're not sure what compels you to say it – whether it's the way you're all worked up, the entire context of the argument, or some inner recognition that you're the one who's fucked up this time despite you both having stuff to apologise for. Still, you escalate the situation from zero to one hundred without a second thought. 
“Oh, so you want to break up?”
He shakes his head and tongues the inside of his cheek, “When did I say that?!”
The fight only gets worse after that, the two of you blowing up after every sentence. You run around in circles, throwing accusations and insults at each other to the point the original premise of the argument is lost along the way of a thousand new arguments. It’s like every little thing you’ve both done to irk each other over the last month is brought up; and by the end of it, the two of you swear you’re done with each other. 
Sure, you've had your fair share of arguments, but the biting finality of the word "done" as it leaves his lips sends a sharp pang through your stomach – it hurts like hell. You've reached your limit with this endless cycle of back-and-forth; you've had enough of him. Storming past him, you head towards your shared bedroom.
Mark sighs and reaches out for your arm, but you pull away. He doesn't like this, doesn't like the chilliness he feels from you. He doesn't want to end the argument like this; it's never gone this far without a resolution before.
“You can’t just storm away when we argue Y/N, it’s childish.”
“If you don’t like it then leave!” You slam the door shut after you and lock it. 
Mark hates this more, not being able to talk this out because you’ve put a wall between the two of you. Then your words register in his mind and he’s the most hurt he’s ever felt. You want him to leave. Fuck that, he thinks. He’s not going to watch his relationship go down the drain over a petty argument. 
He knocks on the door a few times, then jiggles the doorknob, calling out your name and pleading for you to let him in. But you remain unmoved, denying him even the satisfaction of hearing your voice telling him to go away. This only adds to his frustration. He's the one you've upset, and yet here he is, begging for you to open up so he can fix things.
After a few more tries he scoffs, your words echoing in his mind once more. Leave. It crosses his mind as he makes his way to the front door of the apartment. He swings it open, ready to clear his head and crash at Johnny's for the night. But just as he's about to step out, he catches sight of a picture of the two of you on the coffee table where he keeps his keys. 
It’s from your honeymoon phase when it was easier for the two of you to say you’d never let anything come between you – when love seemed to blind you both. Mark picks up the photo, memories flooding back to the day it was taken. It was the day you met his parents and shared your aspirations of becoming a fashion designer. You reassured them that you had your own dreams and weren't just with their son for his wealth – though his parents wouldn't have minded either way; they would have been content with any girl that made their son happy. And you made Mark happy – you make Mark so fucking happy. 
Which is why he can’t believe he’s even considering leaving you in this apartment on your own after a fight. He shuts the front door and makes his way to the couch. He's eager to resolve things with you now, but both of you are too caught up in emotions, spouting shit you'll likely regret in the morning. So he opts to grab a few sofa pillows and a blanket from the storage closet instead. He strips down from his dress shirt and pants, throwing them to the floor before lying back and resting his eyes with a heavy mind.
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Regret doesn't hit you until 2:00 am the following morning, when you're met with the chill of an empty space beside you as you reach out to cuddle your boyfriend, only to find him absent. Sure you thought he was overreacting to the news, but you're also painfully aware that your own words were uncalled for. You shouldn’t have asked him to leave – you didn’t want him to. 
As you heard the front door open and then close with a clink, a thick lump formed in your throat. The realisation that you had driven him away hit you hard, and you lost all motivation. You lay on your bed, makeup still intact, as you sniffled and sobbed quietly into your pillow. And even now, after tossing and turning from your mind running laps, you’d only managed to sleep for a few minutes. 
You stretch your stiff legs and reluctantly leave your bed, unlocking your bedroom door with sleepy eyes. You're taken aback when you see Mark sleeping soundly on the sofa, his breath steady with his eyes closed. You thought he had left, but there he is, covered only by the blanket from the storage closet. It breaks your heart to see him like this; he's likely cold, and he'll probably have a stiff neck in the morning for practice. And you know it's all your fault.
The guilt eats away at you, and without hesitation, you rush to the bedroom to grab his pillows and an extra blanket. Realistically, you should wake him up and insist he sleeps in bed, but the fear of his lingering anger keeps you from doing so. Instead, you kneel in front of him, attempting to swap the sofa pillows for his own bed pillows.
However, your efforts prove futile because Mark is a light sleeper – a detail you foolishly overlooked in your worried state of mind. He blinks as he wakes up once, then twice, appearing confused to find you in front of him in the living room instead of beside him in bed.
“Baby?” He whispers, his eyes hazy as he tries to make sense of what you're doing. It doesn’t take him long once he spots the sofa cushion in your hand to put the pieces together.  
You bite your lip and sigh, “I know you're mad at me, but I didn’t want you to wake up stiff in the morning.”
Mark's chest constricts. How could he possibly stay mad at you when you're so cute, fussing over him like this? He notices the smudge of black makeup beneath your eye, and his heart tightens once more – this time with sadness rather than affection.
His hand reaches out to touch your cheek, and you’re shocked at the touch. “You’ve been crying?” He asks and you bow your head. 
"I thought you left..."
Mark wants to laugh at the irony. You asked him to leave, and yet here you are, upset at the idea of his departure. He swears if he weren't so in love with you, he'd rant about how much you mess with his head, pushing him to the edge only to pull him back again.
“Would never leave you, baby, you know that,” his voice is soft and comforting as the rough edge of his fingertips finds your jaw. 
You can't control it; tears fall freely from your eyes. He's being incredibly considerate and gentle with you, even after you acted like a bitch. Honestly, you almost wish he'd just yell at you instead. But he doesn’t, his eyes widen and he immediately sits up straight letting the blanket fall to the floor as he pulls you up to sit on his lap. 
He shushes you, his hands finding your waist where he rubs soothing soft circles into the fabric of your tank top, “Hey, why are you crying? I’m here…please don’t get upset, Y/N.”
His kindness only amplifies your guilt. 
"I'm so sorry," you stifle in short sobs, your voice almost cracking. "I should've talked to you about the job offer before signing the contract... I-I didn't mean to act so selfishly. I just... I wasn't thinking."
Mark gives you a half-smile as he runs a hand through your hair. "It's okay, baby... You got caught up in your dream. I'm sorry for not realising that. I'm the one being selfish by always expecting you to put me first."
"No—"
He interrupts you to continue his apology. "You were right, you know. I always expect you to wait for me while I'm on tour. I never considered it from the other side, with me waiting for you... But I will. I'll wait because I know how much this job means to you."
Your face buries itself in the crook of his neck as you cry even harder, and he tuts gently while rubbing your back.
"Please don’t cry, Y/N," he murmurs softly. "I hate seeing you upset."
"Can’t help it," you muffle. "I hate that I upset you…"
Mark pulls you away from his neck, needing to look into your eyes as he speaks. "It's normal for couples to argue, baby. We just need to promise to communicate better, okay?"
His fingers stroke your cheeks again, and you lean into his touch. The warmth of his hand feels so comforting as if he was made to soothe your skin, the only person capable of bringing you relief. You bite your lip and nod against his palm, because you're more than willing to work on your communication if it means never feeling like this again.
"Now, give me a smile. You know, the pretty one I like," he says with a laugh. "If I'm not going to see you for the next six months, I don’t want one of our last moments together to be so... sad."
You smile at him and press your forehead against his with a whisper. "Me neither.”
You’re so close to each other that you’re practically sharing the same breath, if you had said that two hours ago you wouldn’t have believed yourself. But here you are, lips so close that your heavy breathing practically begs him to kiss you.
Mark feels it too, so when he does, it's like the softness of his lips is a bandage, mending the angry tension between the two of you. It patches up the last few hours that have transpired, and when he pulls away, it feels as if nothing even happened.
His hands grip your hips firmly, his fingers pressing down as he guides your body to grind against his clothed crotch. His lips find yours again, accompanied by a groan that escapes into your mouth. It's only when you feel him harden beneath you that you remember he was half-naked on the sofa – clearly after you locked him out of the bedroom.
Suddenly feeling suffocated by your own clothes, you pull away from him to strip off your tank top, tossing it over your head before discarding it somewhere in the living room. You yearn to meet his lips again – the only place you truly feel safe – but Mark wants to savour the way you look. Your clothed cunt eagerly grinding against his hard-on, hips chasing a high so eagerly that your bra strap has slid loosely down your arm.
You're a vision, Mark thinks, one that has him salivating and desperate to fuck you. He almost curses at himself for nearly ruining it all, for nearly walking out on the most beautiful person on the planet, the best sex he's ever had – and not only that but also the funniest, sweetest person he knows he'll ever meet.
He leans into your neck, his nose nuzzling into you as he whispers softly, "I'm sorry... so sorry, Y/N." His hand leaves your hips to cup your breast over your bra, massaging the mound with just enough pressure to elicit soft moans from your lips.
“‘s okay,” you whimper. 
Your head falls back as his hand snakes around to unclasp it. He wastes no time brushing his intrusive fingers down your chest, wearing a filthy smirk because he knows just how sensitive you are there. The tip of his finger circles around your nipple until he’s right in the centre, feeling it harden under his touch. He pinches it, and you jolt forward on his cock, making his boxers tighten, and he groans.
He loves how responsive you were to him, watching you writhe over him as he touched you in torturous pleasure. Just the way you arch your back into his touch has pre-cum leaking out of his cock. 
He leans in this time, sucking on your nipple and opening wide to get as much of the tender tissue of your breast in his mouth as possible. He holds your waist in place to keep you grinding on him to entice enough friction for him to feel good too. 
And when he looks down to see where the two of you meet, he moans when he sees the wet patch leaking through your shorts onto his boxers. 
“Fuck, so wet for me, baby. Just for me.”
You whimper, and his hand slips into the hem of your shorts. You’re glad you never wear panties to bed because his fingers find your clit immediately, relieving you of some of the neediness you’ve been feeling from grinding down on him. He rubs small circles as his mouth licks and sucks and nips at your bud. 
“Mark…” 
“Shhh baby,” he coos, “wanna make it up to you. Please let me make it up to you, let me make you feel good.” 
You whimper with a nod of your head, humping into his hand, legs opening wider to give him easier access to the place you’re most sensitive. You let out mild pants, hips bucking more aggressively from the stimulation on both your nipple and clit.
And when Mark notices you getting close, he pulls off your tit to look up at your face. It’s his favourite part — watching your features contort when the bliss is at its highest. It makes his chest swell with pride knowing he’s the one making you cum, knowing his touch is enough to make you shake and moan. And if he wasn’t such a selfish lover, he’d think the sight is something everyone should see at least once.
As you come down from your orgasm, your eyes flutter open to meet him. Mark doesn’t know whether it’s from seeing your orgasm paired with the argument from earlier but he’s the hardest he’s ever been. 
You notice it too, looking down and giggling. “Now it’s my turn to make it up to you.” 
He lets out a soft huff, and a muscle in his jaw twitches with his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat before he nods. You free his cock from his boxers and shimmy yourself out of your shorts. You let out identical gasps when your bare cunt brushes against the tip of his cock. 
Slowly, you sink onto him, fully feeling him inside of you. Your head falls forward, your forehead resting against his shoulder as you take in the size of him, the way he fills you just right — the way he always does. 
The stretch as you take him in never gets old, eliciting the same whimpers and whines. You can feel his hands resting on your hips, then slipping to the bend of your waist, silently urging you to move as he presses you downwards.
You lift your hips, slow and steady as you let the sensations wash over you, drawing a low groan from deep in his chest. His grip on your body tightens as you sink back down, blunt nails digging into your skin. The sounds he makes only drive you further into finding a teasing rhythm because his voice is just so pretty. The sounds are soon muffled to your disappointment when his mouth presses into your skin, so his tongue can slide along the top of your breast — making the disappointment fade away real quick. 
You let out a breathy cry, hands rising from where they’ve been resting, flattening against his chest, to wrap around his shoulders. The slow pace you’d adopted was becoming not enough. And you could tell from the way Mark is rutting his hips up to meet you, he shares the same sentiment. 
Your mouths collide as you pick up the pace, using his shoulders to leverage yourself as you bounce up and down on his cock. When he breaks from the kiss, an unrestrained groan slips past his lips, low and rough, followed by another, and you have to bite back a whimper of your own.
Mark can’t help the noises, he just loves the way you swivel your hips in a way that makes him see stars. He loves watching you work yourself on him for pleasure – he loves when you ride him.
And right when you squeeze around him, he rewards you with a loud, obscene groan, a sound that makes you dizzy and limp. Everything about Mark is intoxicating and downright addicting, and you were in no hurry to kick that addiction. In fact, you craved more of it – needed more. 
You grab his hands and guide them across your body. He squeezes them at your hips, smoothing across your thighs, your stomach. His hands were everywhere, eyes dark and desperate, wordlessly begging for you to give him what he needed, the same thing he’d been kind enough to already give you. 
So you rock yourself forward, providing a new type of friction that makes you whine helplessly into his skin. Blunt nails mark into the plush of your thighs, a futile attempt at grounding himself. The upward thrust of his hips and the strained catch of his breath tells you that he's growing impatient. You know the pace was slow, but damn it, it felt so fucking good to feel him like this, every inch of him sliding into you, hitting all the spots that makes your brain stop working. It also felt like a sick little way to get revenge...
“Faster,” you hear him say. “Please baby, need it faster.”
You could feel his hips bucking up to meet you. Then his thumb finds your clit, working in circles and making you squeeze around him with a shrill, gasping cry. It was his attempt at bargaining with you, doing anything to make you speed up and shamelessly fuck yourself on his cock. Maybe if he pleases you, you’ll let him cum.
“Please fuck me properly baby, need it,” he rasps, “You want me to forgive you right?”
And then you remember what led you here in the first place. You’d upset him and now you’re teasing him – you suppose it’s only fair if you pick up the pace a little more, fuck him messily and desperately enough to have him dizzying towards his climax. 
And once you do, his thrusts grow sloppier, and your thighs start aching. It feels too fucking good so all that you can do is cling to him and let him take the lead, strong hands guiding you as he sucks against your neck. And even though you’re supposed to be the one making him cum, you find yourself buried in the crook of his neck, gasping as your walls clench and nails dig into the skin of his strong back. 
The slight stinging sensation is enough to work Mark over the edge, and you feel him twitch inside of you, sending shock waves up your spine as he fucks his cum inside of you with a final powerful thrust. You roll your hips to help him along, taking all you can get from him and he moans his appreciation as you do. 
You remain tangled up in one another as you come down from your respective highs with foreheads pressed close. You wrestle to find his hand, lacing your fingers with his as he rubs his thumb over your knuckles. He kisses your nose, then your lips, with a tenderness that makes your heart feel like it’s being squeezed. 
You don’t want to move just yet, so you release your hands and wrap them around his neck, nuzzling your nose against his before you speak.
"Mark?" You mumble, your voice tired and hazy. He hums in response.
"I’m sorry," you say softly.
You feel his smile against your mouth before he kisses your lips. "It’s okay, baby. I don’t even remember what we were fighting for."
748 notes · View notes
ellecdc · 19 hours
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i come barring a request for a poly!marauders🫡📃
idk you ever do this with ur cat but when mine meows at me i respond back and pretend we’re having a full conversation, and now imagine reader this with her cat and she’s roommates with lily so she’s used to but then the boys see they’re all thrown off and slightly worried.
now i bid you good day my lady 🫡
I've had this blurb like half finished for a while, but since we were all talking about our fur babies today, I thought it'd be perfect to finish and post! thanks for this cute request - hope it's what you were looking for
poly!marauders x fem!reader who talks to her cat
Remus felt sort of bad for Lily at the way the boys all deflated when it had been her who opened the door to your shared flat instead of you. Thankfully, the red-head just laughed and invited them all in.
“Sorry to disappoint boys.” She jested as they all made themselves at home on your couch.
“Oh, we’re always happy to see you, Lily.” James said at the same time as Sirius grumbled “you should be”, earning him a pinch in the ribs by Remus.
“Hey!” Lily called down the hall. “The boys are here!”
Remus winced at a painful sounding thump and a muffled. “Okay thanks! I’m almost ready!”
The boys were very excited, if James’ knee bouncing and Sirius’ impish smirk wasn’t obvious enough. Lily had been gushing about how sweet her new roommate was and how she thought you’d get along really well with the group of friends, and she’d been right. You came to two pub nights and the boys were hooked; constantly asking Lily for updates and if you’d be at the next one.
Lily had grown so tired of playing messenger that she asked you if she could give them your phone number, to which you had agreed.
The four of you had been in a group chat for nearly a month and a half before they felt brave enough to ask you out on an official date.
“Where are you guys going tonight?” Lily asked as she sat in an armchair in the living area where the boys were waiting.
“We’re going to the pub on 42nd.” James answered readily. 
“The one with the board games and vintage video games?” Lily clarified. 
“Yup. That way there’s something for us to do if conversation lulls, and something for James to do with his hands.” Sirius explained teasingly, causing James to blush and lean into his side as if he were trying to hide inside of Sirius’ smaller frame.
“Don’t tease the lad.” Lily admonished playfully. “He’s already likely nervous enough. I don’t think you lot have to worry about tonight though; conversation never lulls with her around.”
Remus tilted his head in bemusement at Lily’s comment but never got to ask for clarification before he heard some muttering.
“Would you stop that?” He could hear you mutter quietly; barely any ire detected in your tone.
“Please don’t do this, I’m already late.” You begged before a big crash took place. “For fuck’s sa- why.” 
“You’re not allowed to get ready with me anymore.” You declared to your bedroom. Remus shared a look with Sirius and James before turning towards Lily who only shook her head and brought her finger to her lips. 
“Don’t look at me like that!” You carried on. “If you want to be here to see me off, you need to behave yourself.”
It was quiet for a few moments. “No, knocking over my jewelry stand is not behaving.”
They listened to you shuffling around before you let out a big sigh. “I love you too, but you are stressing me out. Do you want to watch shows with Lily tonight while I’m gone? Hm? Let’s go ask.”
Finally, you exited your room and made your way down the hall, entering the living area before pausing to take in the fact that the four occupants of your flat were all staring at you with varying levels of bemusement and amusement. 
And trotting happily behind you was a small cat seemingly none the wiser to the fact that it just made its mistress look like a fool in front of her dates.
You chuckled awkwardly. “How much did you hear?”
Lily snorted and pat her legs as an invitation for your feline friend, who happily agreed, hopping and curling up on the red-head’s lap. 
“Enough to know that knocking over your jewelry stand is not behaving.” Sirius teased salaciously. 
You groaned and moved to cover your face with your hands, but James was having none of that and quickly made for you.
“Don’t hide that beautiful face from us; it’d be a shame if the only one who got to appreciate your date night look was your cat.” He commented as he gently pulled your hands away from your face.
You still looked awfully embarrassed but acquiesced. “A bad cat, at that.” You spat to the ball of fur currently sitting with your roommate without any real malice. 
“Oi!” Lily defended quickly, brushing broad strokes over the cat like the villain from Austin Powers. “Don’t speak ill of Princess Bernadette the Third.”
“Princess Bernadette?” Sirius asked bewilderedly at the same time as James murmured “the Third?”
“Birdie, Lily. My cat’s name is Birdie.” You corrected, not at all amused. 
Lily raised her nose in the air. “When we stay home to watch Bridgerton without you lot, she’s Princess Bernadette the Third. Now off with you, we have Ball’s to attend, and you have gentlemen to court.” 
Remus watched with a loving smile as you flushed furiously at that, laughing when it only deepened as Sirius suddenly stood and made his way for you, bowing with a flourish and pressing a kiss to your knuckles. “Shall we, m’lady?”
You gave him an eye roll but Remus could tell it was mostly for show as you bore a sickeningly sweet smile and accepted James’ elbow as you made your way to the door.
“Have fun you guys!” Lily called towards the door as Remus bent down to scritch Birdie on the chin.
“You too, Princess Bernadette, Princess Lillith.” He offered with his most posh accent and a quick bow before joining his two boyfriends and their date at the door.
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ithebookhoarder · 2 days
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Could you write an Anthony Bridgerton x wife!reader fic? They are newly weds and the reader wishes to pamper Anthony while he is bathing. He’s a bit cautious about it at first because he is not used to such affection. Thank youu I love your writing a lot especially the truth or dare fic.
In Your Hands (Anthony Bridgerton x Wife!Reader)
A/N: First of all, thank you so much! And I hope you like this. Thanks for sending this ask in, luckily I was already toying with a few Bridgerton ideas thanks to the new trailers so this came surprisingly easy.
Also, if any of you guys enjoy my work, or just feel like it, then consider buying me a cup of coffee here: https://ko-fi.com/ithebookhoarder ☕️
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Warnings: Nudity references, the start of sexy-times, alcohol 
Masterlist
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Anthony was someone who hated routine. After all, as much as he was devoted to the day to day duties that came with being the head of his family, if he had his way he would escape the city and the ton, choosing instead the peace and tranquility offered by the countryside, at Aubrey Hall. He dreamed of being able to be just a brother, son and - as of recently - a husband. 
Only married a few months, your new husband was keen to seize each and every opportunity to escape his duties when they appeared - whether it was sneaking off for long rides in the countryside, or making an early exit from whatever social gathering you both had been forced to attend as the new Viscount and Viscountess Bridgerton; Whatever allowed you both to be alone and back in one another’s arms (usually sans clothes) as soon as possible, was a good idea to him. 
It was no surprise then, that there was one part of his daily routine that Anthony actually relished: bathing. 
Oh, yes. There was little more in the world that could bring your fully-grown husband such child-like joy as being able to soak in a tub of steaming hot water for an hour or two. The sight always made you smile as you entered your bedroom: Anthony, half asleep, looking as if the stress had physically melted away. 
It was your favourite sight - and not just because of the exquisite view it granted you of his sculpted form - but because of how calm and peaceful he looked. It was as if he had transformed back into the mischievous and carefree boy you’d first fallen in love with all those years ago. Back when your only concerns had been not tripping on your skirt at your presentation, making sure you were actually asked to dance at a ball, and surviving the social season without embarrassing your family or getting yourself roped into some scandal. 
Whilst you knew neither you nor Anthony would ever change a single thing about your life together, you knew it came with a cost. In fact, today it had been enduring hours of talks with local tenants, the family’s book keeper, estate managers, and even several possible suitors looking to secure some kind of marriage contract with one of his younger sisters. (You’d been informed by several members of the household staff that those meetings had been remarkably swift, however, with each unfortunate man looking rather dejected as they were shown from the house). 
If you’d been able to spare him the pain or share his burden you would have, but unfortunately you’d been occupied with matters of your own. Being the lady of such a grand estate came with duties of its own, and you were quite done looking over seating arrangements, replying to correspondence, and paying social calls for one day.  
Still, at least you’d both survived to tell the tale - no wonder Anthony looked half asleep. Then again, maybe it had something to do with the open bottle of whiskey that sat on the table beside the tub. You knew without looking at the label which bottle it was, having smuggled it out of the library yourself to enjoy together. 
“Anthony Bridgerton!” A fake gasp of horror escaped your lips as you appeared in the doorway, a hand pressed to your chest. “You are a sneak and a traitor. That whiskey was for me too, you know.”
“And a good evening to you too, my love. Never fear, there’s plenty to share,” he teased, head relaxed, tipped backward as he took a sip from the glass in his hand. Your eyes were transfixed on the hollow of his throat, watching his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed. “Besides, I would apologise but I simply couldn’t wait a minute longer. Not when I couldn’t feel my back from sitting at that desk all afternoon.”
The moan that escaped his lips was almost sinful as he sank a little lower in the water.  
“Well, you’re forgiven. You look far too content for me to even dream of being mad,” you sighed, drawing close and perching on the rim of the tub. Anthony handed over the whiskey glass with a soft smile, letting you take a sip of your own before you placed it back onto the table. 
You could feel the warmth seep into your bones immediately, even if that was also likely in part to your proximity to the tub and your naked husband. 
“Do you want me to wash your hair?”
Anthony’s eyebrows rose at the question, the surprise written across his face. “What?”
“You heard me,” you teased, reaching up to run your fingers through the soft strands of hair atop his head. “I can wash your hair, and get your back for you. Unless you’d rather do it yourself, or I can ring for someone?”
“What? No, that’s uh, that’s not necessary,” he chuckled, visibly flustered - which was amusing and perplexing. After all, it wasn’t as if you two hadn’t seen and touched every single inch of the other in the weeks since your wedding. However, he looked almost confused at the idea that you would offer such a thing. “You don’t have to do that.”
“But I want to,” you soothed. “Let me take care of you, for once. Husband.”
It was probably below the belt to purr his title like that, but you knew how that one little word had the power to reduce the great Viscount Bridgerton to a puddle. That, along with the warmth of the water and the buzz of the whiskey, made him almost pliant to your every whim. Still, you knew him well enough to recognise the lingering hesitation in his eyes as he nodded in agreement. 
He very rarely let his guard down or allowed anyone to assist him in any way. You sometimes believed that had the servants not been dependant upon their work to make a living that Anthony would have dismissed them long ago and tried to run the entire estate single handedly just to prove he could. That he was worthy of the title he bore, and that he was every bit as great a man, brother, and husband as his father. 
It appeared he was the same way when it came to letting himself be taken care of and it made your heart ache for the man you loved. 
Pressing a triumphant kiss to his lips, you swiftly manoeuvred yourself, pulling up a stool and grabbing a jug from the dresser.  
“Just relax… trust me,” you murmured, waiting until he did as he was bid. The gesture alone said volumes, more so than any words ever could. 
Waiting until his eyes were shut, you reached for the soap, tilting his head against your chest as you began to massage the mixture into his scalp. Yet again, your husband seemed to transform into a cat, purring with every touch in a way that made it suddenly very difficult to resist the urge to strip off and join your husband in the water instead. 
“Enjoying yourself?” You giggled as Anthony barely managed more than a groan in reply. 
It was taking every ounce of your self control to focus your attentions solely on Anthony, and not on the way his body seemed to be reacting to your ministrations. Thankfully, you were able to last long enough to finish the job, using the jug to rinse the water through his hair, making sure to angle his head upwards so the water ran off him instead of into his eyes. 
But you were only human; the minute you were done washing the last suds from his scalp you made your move. Sliding off the stool, you knelt beside him and reached out to caress his cheek, causing him to open his eyes almost sleepily. Leaning forward you planted a soft, delicate kiss to his lips, causing him to groan in response.
Without saying a word, his hands rose, twisting their way into your hair as he deepened his kiss. It was clear what he wanted next. 
“Now, wife,” he growled, pulling back just long enough to reach down and tug teasingly at the tie of your dress-robe. You could feel the warmth of his touch as his wet body began to dampen the material. “I think it’s your turn to let me take care of you… so you’d better get in here, before I drag you in here.”
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slutmegeto · 3 days
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selcouth.
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requested! plz, write a satosugo x reader fictional where y/n feeling left-out and insecure in the relationship ( full of angst and yandere vibes). requested by! @lolitamermaid123
tw. stockholm syndrome, yandere, dubcon, noncon (to be safe), dumbification, orgasm control, orgasm denial, sex toy, threesome, geto and gojo manipulate you into liking them, use of pretty/angel/baby, mention of starving, implied kidnapping. daddy kink, dom!geto, switch!gojo, sub!reader mdni!
pairing: satosugu x f!reader
it had all started a week ago.
geto and gojo had went from dominating your time, never letting you have a moment of peace and constantly, consistently touching you, kissing you, being with you to acting like you didn't exist.
that had gone on for a few weeks. maybe a month, maybe two, the concept of time had been stripped from you the second the two of them had taken you. it was hard to tell what day it was, or even what time it was, when you were stripped from leaving their apartment. you weren't allowed to go outside, not without them and even then that happened rarily.
and when they left (which was rare; usually at least one of them was home), they usually kept you locked to their bedroom. they professed it was because you couldn't be trusted yet, that you needed to earn that trust before you could have free roam of the house and you'd given that fight up a week or two ago when it led to inevitably nothing but pain.
if geto was out, gojo wanted to cuddle. he'd wrap his arms around your waist and pull you flush against his chest and keep you close. if you had to pee, he'd come with you. if you were hungry, you had to wait. he'd surround you and wouldn't back off until geto came back and then he'd bound up to him and then the both of them would surround you.
geto would be most of the same. he was a little more freeing. he'd let you at least pee on your own and he'd make you something to eat if you were hungry. but he liked to keep you close, sometimes he'd put on a movie and have you sit on his lap. he especially liked when you played with his hair and you'd learned that when you did favours to them, they were nicer to you.
it was worst when they both were home. always two pairs of hands surrounding you, holding you. they never got sexual unless they were both home, some sort of rule they'd promised to each other. but they were insatiable the second they both had you. you rarely had a moment of peace, their mouths on you, their hands carressing you; both of them fucking you.
it was exhausting and overwhelming.
so why were you so upset they weren't doing that anymore?
you shouldn't be. you should be happy, relieved... maybe they were getting sick of you; maybe all you'd been, depsite their words, was a toy for them to test out some of their kicks on and that was it. maybe... maybe they'd even let you go soon.
the hope of that lingered, and, yet... your heart would burn with hurt when they started leaving you alone more. now, gojo wouldn't stay if geto left or vice versa. they'd leave together... just leave you. they wouldn't say bye, wouldn't smile at you or kiss you or say they'd be back soon.
they'd just leave...
for hours. you were still trapped in the bedroom, still locked away. sometimes, they'd leave you some food but most of the time they didn't... as if they'd forgotten. you'd be starving when they'd come bakc hours later and then, geto would prepare something half-assed that barely fed you.
yet, the worst was when they were home. you'd be allowed to roam the house, go where you want (except outside). but, they still ignored you.
they'd sit on the couch together, cuddling, lips pressed against each others. all while you stood there, watching. they'd make no room for you, taking up the whole couch, and leaving you to sit on the single seat by yourself. you'd try to focus on whatever they'd put on the tv, but your eyes would always inevitably drift towards them and watch as they blatantly ignored you.
it wasn't just that. you had no idea what they did when they left, or why they were gone so long but you knew what they were up to when they did it front of you. they'd wander to the bedroom and you'd follow behind, trailing like a lost puppy, only to see them taking each other's clothes off, kissing and eventually fucking each other.
without you.
it should make you happy. this is what you'd been wishing for since they'd taken you. to leave you alone, to stop forcing themselves on you...
but, it didn't make you happy. not at all. it hurt... burned in your chest and made your heart ache. it twisted you with something uncomfortable, chest tight and loneliness flooding through your veins as they ignored you.
you weren't allowed to leave, you weren't allowed to see anyone else but they people you'd had to depend on for human interaction, gave you nothing. you... you had no one.and didn
they'd told you they loved you. when they'd taken you, they said it was for you... because they loved you so much and just wanted the best for you. when they'd forced themselves on you that first night, you realized, they'd still been doting. whispering praises to your cries, tell you how good you were being and drowning you in pleasure.
when gojo cuddled, he told you it was because he loved the feeling of you against him. when geto made you brush through his hair, he said it was because he loved when you touched him.
when they kept you locked in the bedroom, they said it was for your own safety. they didn't want you going outside because they didn't want you to get hurt or taken or...
those word, those praises and those bullshit lies suddenly didn't fill you with anger. and didn't feel like bullshit anymore. it didn't make you want to claw out their eyes or hurt them for hurting you... instead, it filled you with a warmth you longed to feel again.
the warmth felt wrong. you knew it. but you couldn't make it go away.
with everyday that passed, the ache grew worst. it festered, deep in your chest, made it hard to function or think straight. it hurt so much that by the end of the week, you were at your wits end. you were hungry, starving... neglected and ashamed.
i'm not good enough.
they don't love me anymore...
maybe they think im not good enough for them.
maybe they think im not worth it for anyone.
these words burn in your mind, ripping any peace of mind you tried to obtain. you couldn't think straight, couldn't do anything...
it's inevitable. still, you lose it the saturday night, marking a entire week.
they'd both been home all day, but still, they continued to ignore you. wrapped up in each other's arms all day, you'd watched, neglected and dejected, in the background as they continued to act as if you aren't there. their eyes wouldn't even meet your own, solely focused on each other.
it twisted something nasty in you, brought you to a point you couldn't control it anymore.
watching them on the bed, stuck at the door, as geto pulled gojo's shirt off, slow, dragging his mouth up his toned chest. gojo's hands threaded through geto's hair, lips pressed against each others, the sounds of their mouths and breaths taunting you.
a sob wretched from your throat before you could stop it, loud and pathetic, gaining the attention of the two men as the tears poured down your face profusely. you stood there, sobbing and sniffling, looking like a wounded child, as both geto and gojo glanced at you, before sending each other knowing looks.
"what's wrong, baby?" gojo asks, pushing himself off the bed, shirtless and slacks hanging low on his hips as he crosses the distance over to you. geto trails closely behind him, and the two stand in front of you, towering over you, concerned eyes waiting for an answer.
you just continue to sob.
"y/n?" geto pressed, voice still soft but a little sharper.
he wants an answer.
"do you not love me anymore?"
the word come tumbling from your lips, choked in your own tears as your hands come to your cheeks.
"what?" gojo asks, incredulously, as if he can't believe your words. "why would you think that?"
"be—because!" you cry out, turning to glance at the both of them through blurred tears. "you—you... both ignore me! you don't cuddle with me anymore or make food for me and you guys leave.... for—for hours... and—and..." you can't finish your words, the image of them making love to each other while you watched too painful.
a hand falls on the back of your head, another pulling your hands away from your face. gojo and geto crouch down, to meet your eyes properly, and gojo's brushing your tears away from your face as geto brushes your hair back, tucking it behind your ear.
"we're sorry, baby," geto coos at you, fingers brushing against your cheek. you miss the look he sends gojo or the smile gojo sends back. "we thought that's what you wanted?"
your wide eyes fall on him.
"you were always crying and pushing us away, angel," gojo explains, shaking his head at you. "so we were trying to give you space."
that's right... you were always pushing them away. you always cursed at them, called them the wost things, said you hated them... you had done all of that.
but... why?
"i—i..." your mind scrambles for an answer, but you can't find it.
"is that not what you want?" geto asks softly, head titling in wonder.
"i..."
is that what you want?
"no," you whisper, the decision coming to you when you couldn't imagine saying otherwise, "no i don't want that. i want you two to... to love me again."
"oh baby," geto tsks, "we don't hate you... do we, satoru?"
"of course not," gojo says without hesitance, pressing a kiss to your cheek. your eyes flutter shut at the touch, body tingling at finally having their attention on you again. "we love you so much. but we were hurt by your actions."
your heart spikes. "i'm sorry!" you cry out, turning to him with wide, scared eyes as the tears well again. "i'm so sorry! i don't know why i did that! i... i want you both..."
they both smile, impressed.
"it's okay, pretty girl," gojo assures, nodding down at you. "we forgive you."
"of course we do," geto smiles, shifting on his feet. "we're sorry we hurt your feelings too. made you feel unloved... we should make that up to you, shouldn't we?"
eyes flooding with hope, you meet his eyes before turning to gojo. they're both smiling, hands reaching for you.
"o—okay," you whisper, nodding, "i'd... i'd like that."
sending each other a look, geto and gojo are quick to act on their words. they grab you, guiding you towards the bed, and with ease, strip of your clothes. they leave you with your bra, a pretty pink lace one they'd bought for you; you'd been trying to wear the gifts they bought you to hopefully get their attention.
if the smirks on their faces and pleased expression are anything to go by, it seems it worked.
geto behind you, holding you around the waist, pressed into his lap and gojo sat in front of you, both of their eyes never leaving your basically bare figure, gojo chuckles.
"we should have her like this all time," gojo mumbles, not talking to you but geto. "she doesn't need to clothes."
"i agree," geto hums out, his much larger hands pressed against your tummy. "we could buy her those pretty camisoles... have her dressed up for us everyday." then, with a pause, his head falls on your shoulder. "would you like that, y/n?"
your cheeks burn at their words and their unwavering gaze, but still, you nod smally. "if... if you guys would like that."
your small little whispers goes straight to their dicks.
hands dragging across your bare thighs, gojo lets out a growl; "that's a good girl."
"our good girl."
"hmm," gojo nods to geto. "yes."
gojo then shifts, leaning over the edge of the bed as you watch on in curiosity. he doesn't take him long and when he sits back up with a vibrator in his hands, your body shifts in geto's grasp, twitching as your anticipation builds.
"we're gonna play a little game," geto explains, watching your reactions with a pleased grin. "gojo's going to make you feel good with that vibrator, but there's a twist."
"what... what is it?" you ask hesitantly, eyes unable to leave gojo as he shuffles, moving so he's pushed back, vibrator held tauntingly in front of your pussy.
"you can't cum until i tell you you can."
that breaks you from your stupor. "but... but i don't know if i can hold back."
"you can," geto dismisses, voice commanding. "you can and you will."
"it feels much better when you hold back, baby." gojo explains, "suguru's done it for me before. you'll feel really nice."
your body tenses with nerves, unsure if you really can but not wanting to disappoint them anymore then you have, you nod. "okay."
pressing you further against his chest, geto takes your legs and wraps them around his own, leaving your legs wide and spread and unable to close on your own. he takes a clothed breast in his hand, pinching your nipple between the lace as you let out a cry in response, and then, gojo presses the vibe against your clit, fingers spreading your lips and turns it on.
you jump at the vibrations, your pussy extra sensitive given how it's been ignored for so long. they've never used a vibrator on you before either, only ever pleasuring you themselves. the vibe is a whole new sensation and you shiver as the pleasure builds, geto's fingers working your nipples, twisting and pulling.
"ahh!" you cry out, biting your lip to muffle your cries.
geto slaps your breast a second later. "don't," he orders and you tilt your head back to meet his gaze. "we wanna hear your crys. be loud."
"scream our names," gojo calls out in response, grinning lecherously as you.
swallowing thickly, you let your lips part, and just as you do, gojo increases the strength of the vibrator, it shooting into your core instantly.
your back arches, a cry pulling for your lips. "ah! oh... oh! suguru! satoru!"
"does it feel good, baby?" geto asks, pressing his hand against your stomach to force you back down, limiting your movement as the other hand shifts to your neglected breast, squeezing it in his large hand. "tell us how it feels!"
gojo leans forward, pressing his lips against your inner thing and bites down.
"ah!" you scream, feeling the coil tighten as you squirm. "it feels... feels good! too good! i can't... it's too much!"
"it's not enough," gojo corrects, and as if in punishment of your words, he increases the vibrator once more, on it's final setting. "that's enough."
"you're so wet," geot whispers into your ear. "i can see your juices spilling all over satoru's hands from here."
"she's soaking," gojo smirks.
your hands find purchase on geto's thighs, nails digging as your head falls back against his shoulder. gojo presses a line of kisses against your thighs, all while never giving you rebrief from the vibes against your clit.
"ahh! mm, please! please! please, suguru... ah—satoru!"
"please what angel?" gojo teases, "use your words."
"i—! i'm going to cum!"
"don't," geto hisses, pinching your nipple harder then he had before. "don't until i tell you i can!"
his words fill you with frustration, trying to squirm closer to the vibe but his hand against your stomach keeps you stilled, much stronger than you. you hear gojo chuckle at your useless squirming, biting down on your thigh particularly hard in a way you know will leave a mark.
"please!" you cry, eyes filling with tears as the sensation grows too strong and the need to cum grows desperation. "please let me cum!"
"no," geto relents, shaking his head. "hold it!"
"i can't!" you scream.
"you will," geto growls. "or we'll go back to ignoring you."
your body stills, forcing yourself to hold back the orgasm that is at the brink of spreading through your entire body.
"suguru," geto laughs, "so cruel."
"she needs to learn."
gojo just continues to laugh, pressing the vibe harder against your clit.
"oh—oh my god! i can't! please, please, please!" your cries turn incoherent, a slur of words leaving your lips in desperation.
"please, what?" geto prompts.
mind a fog, you shake your head.
frustrated, geto pulls your left breast out of the cup of your bra, taking your nipple bare and twisting until you're screaming in response to the extra, painful sensation.
"better answer him, angel," gojo croons, "suguru doesn't like to be ignored. and i want to hear you say it too."
mind reeling for the answer they're searching for, you spit out the first thing that comes to mind. "please, daddies!"
there's a pause before geto laughs, cruelly; "not what i was expecting, but it works."
gojo shrugs up at him; "kind of hot, huh?"
"yeah," geto breathes, pressing a kiss to your neck. "definitely."
frustrated and desperate, feeling ignored all over again, you let out a growl; "let me cum!"
at that, you receive a harsh slap against your breast and then, gojo pulls the vibe away without a word. you sink at the loss of the vibration against your clit, your orgasm ripped from you as the slap against your breast stings as you whine out in indignation.
"none of that attitude," gojo frowns up at you. "we don't like that tone."
"we'll stop right now," geto warns. "i won't let you cum at all if you try to throw that again."
panic seizing you, you're quick to shake your head. the realization that you'd disappointed them again makes your heart ache and you're quick to try and rectify. "i'm sorry! i'm sorry! daddies, i'm sorry! i won't... won't do it again." you plead, voice pitching your eyes well with tears. "i promise."
geto waits a moment, leaving you in suspension and fear. "and you won't cum until a say, right?"
you nod.
another slap to your breast.
"words."
you're quick to oblidge. "i won't cum until you say, daddy."
"wah," gojo whines, still holding the vibe tauntingly in front of you as your eyes fall on him. he's pouting. "don't forget about me."
"i'm sorry, daddy," you plead at him. "i promise i'll be good."
gojo grins and geto nods at him and then gojo is pressing the vibe against you once again.
you start from the beginning after having your orgasm ripped from you cruelly. the vibrations start slow again, gojo slowly working you up as you twitch in geto's grasp, until it's at it's strongest and the coil is close to snapping.
"please! please, suguru, i've been good," you gasp, body on fire. "can... can i—ah! can i please cum?"
"what do you think, satoru? can she cum?"
you watch as gojo shrugs, a whine leaving your lips. "i dunno. does she deserve it?"
"yes!" you cry, body spasming. you're about to pass out if they don't let you soon. you can't... can't hold it back anymore. "yes! i'll be good! i'll be good, i promise. i'll do anything!"
hearing the words they'd be aiming for, geto turns to gojo who nods up at him.
then, your prayer is answered.
"you can cum."
his words are like a miracle. hearing them, and you let everything go. the coil snaps as the pleasure burns through your entire body, spasming violently in geto's grip as gojo's nails dig into your thigh, holding the vibe in place. your eyes roll to the back of your head, choked gasps and moans pouring from your lips.
"ahh! it feels so good! so good!" you cry, the sweat on your forehead causing your hair to stick to it, blinding you through a mess of yourself as you ride out your orgasm. "thank you! thank you! thank you for letting me cum! feels so good! ahh! mm!"
"that's our good girl," gojo coos, pulling the vibe away to stare at your puffy, red and wet pussy. "such a good girl. listened to us perfectly."
geto presses kisses along the crook of your neck, hot and warm that has you tingling in response as your high slowly fades and your exhausted body falls against geto with exhaustion.
geto's hands leave your breasts as he brushes your hair away from your face. "yes," he agrees, voice softer her than it had been before. "that's a good girl."
you shiver at their praise.
"thank you," you whisper, "thank you, daddies."
"that's a cute nickname for us, baby," gojo laughs. "you like us being your daddies?"
you nod, shivering as geto moves your thighs off of him so you can close them, incredibly sensitive.
"yes," you moan, not fully aware of what you're agreeing to, mind blank.
"look at that, suguru, she's all fucked out."
"looks so fucking hot," geto hums, shifting so he can get a better look at you. "looks like our plan worked too."
gojo nods. "i was hesitant... but it seems you were right. she just needed to learn what happens if she doesn't do as we ask."
"poor girls mind is more fragile then she thinks, huh?"
geto's hand falls on your chin, guiding you to look at him as your head lulls in his grasp, not comprehending a word they're saying.
"she's our pretty dumb girl," gojo laughs. "all ours."
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corrodedbisexual · 18 hours
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Eddie is constantly bouncing between jobs and rage quitting every 6 months on average. Steve, however, somehow gets lucky with a job in computer sales. With the industry in a booming rise, he makes a pretty decent income to support them both whenever Eddie's out of a job. Best part is, even though his charming voice and smile certainly help make sales, he doesn't feel like he's one of those scammers pushing all kinds of crap people don't need. Computers are objectively useful.
This goes on until their mid 30s and Steve saves up enough to open his own small tech store. He very hesitantly starts involving his recently unemployed (again) boyfriend in some mundane tasks (upon Eddie's own initiative saying he wants to help) and quickly learns that all of Eddie's previous bosses were morons. Eddie's meticulous and a quick learner with every single task. All he needs is not to have a boss who's a total jackass to him, and a bit of freedom to just... be himself.
Eddie does everything with mild enthusiasm; mild, because it's still work, ugh; enthusiasm, because it's his BOYFRIEND finally being free to do his own thing instead of working for The Man, woohoo, go Stevie! Eddie doesn't need to wear a stupid uniform or put his hair up, can play music in his headphones doing inventory, answers the phones in his special flirty manner, and Steve doesn't have a problem with any of that. He actually listens to Eddie's bitching and recognizes the helpful suggestions to improve things in the middle of all that, instead of telling him to shut up and do his damn job.
Working together can often be the perfect storm to ruin a relationship, but despite becoming Eddie's de-facto boss, Steve never treats him differently. It's never orders, always "Eddie can you [do this and that]?". It's soft smiles and a quiet "thanks, babe", and if no one's around, a kiss on Eddie's cheek when he gets something done. It's a calm explanation instead of yelling if he messes up.
Steve hands Eddie a handful of cash at the end of each week, despite Eddie's comments that it's a bit ridiculous to pay him at all, since he'd been practically living out of Steve's pocket for months at a time, and Steve has been single-handedly paying the rent for their joint apartment. Steve insists though, and Eddie has to admit that it's nice to always have cash in his pocket now.
Eddie learns more and more of everything that's needed to run the store, to the point that he spends a week handling everything alone when Steve's sick with the flu, but it's still a shock when several months later Steve shows him the paperwork in which he writes Eddie in as full partner. Eddie tries to protest, but Steve won't have it; he says he never could have survived all these months of start-up chaos without Eddie, and he fully deserves this. He's been giving Eddie half the store profits for months anyway, time to just make it official.
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Text
"What's up, Supes?"
The hero froze. The file was basically glued to their hand. They looked up, only to find the villain lean against the doorway. They wiggled with their eyebrows, a smug grin on their face and admittedly, the hero had to swallow.
"Hi."
"Whatcha up to?"
"Just, you know...cleaning."
"Cleaning?"
"Yup."
The villain shook their head and clicked with their tongue, clearly not buying any of the hero's lies. It had been a perfect plan. Up until now. The hero cursed under their breath.
"How long has it been? Three months?" the villain asked. They pushed themselves off the doorframe and approached the hero with slow, careful steps.
"Three and a half, if you want to be nitpicky," the hero said. They didn't know what to do with the file in their hands, let alone with themselves.
"Mhmm. So, we haven't seen each other in three and a half months and now you're at my party. In my office. Cleaning."
"You got it." The hero made very awkward finger guns and winked, as if that could come close to saving them.
"Did you really think I wouldn't notice you?" the villain asked. They laughed softly. "That I wouldn't recognise you?"
The hero shrugged lazily. They were so fucked.
"Ahh, come on. It's not like you weren't hoping for this to happen, huh?" They leaned over the table, one hand on it, the other hiding the file behind their back. "Isn't destiny such a funny little thing?"
"Well, I was hoping to see you again. I didn't want you to steal from me, though." The villain stopped at the other side of the table and leaned forward, almost like the hero. "The file, Supes."
"I don't really like that nickname."
"Superhero. Supes. You'll manage." The villain offered their hand, expecting the hero to give them the file. "I can also call you Darling if you want me to."
Suddenly, the hero's nervousness turned into embarrassment.
"I was on sabbatical."
"Bullshit."
"I was busy...missing you?" the hero tried and at least that worked a little. The villain crossed their arms in front of their chest, raising an eyebrow.
"Go on."
"Oh, you know, I was really busy with superhero stuff. Saving people, arresting villains...and all of that just made me think of you and well, here I am!" They smiled brightly to make an attempt to trick the villain but both of them knew it was a rather sad try. "Surprise!"
"You're adorable." The villain walked around the table and the hero didn't dare to move. "Just tell me you were busy with...I don't know, a certain project I am not supposed to know about?"
Uh-oh.
"Whaat? You're crazy."
"A certain mission?"
The hero panicked. No one was supposed to know about this, least of all the villain. So, there wasn't exactly a solution except for impulsive decisions. The hero didn't always perform perfectly under pressure. Without really thinking, they grabbed the villain and kissed them hard. As a response, the villain hummed quietly. Caught off guard but definitely satisfied. The hero found it quite adorable.
They didn't really know what they were doing. The last time they had kissed anyone was for some publicity a few months ago. But this was different. They could feel their heart rage in their chest, as if they were going to explode any second now. Although they were quite experienced, they couldn't remember this ever happening.
Surprisingly, the villain not only kissed them back, but also pulled them a little closer.
For a moment, the hero lost themselves in the intimacy but then, they pulled out the handcuffs. With a click, they cuffed the villain to their own computer.
"You're evil," the villain whispered against their lips. The hero's hands were shaking. They had never kissed anyone like this. It had never felt like this before. They didn't want to think about the implications.
"I'm your Supes," the hero said. With the villain cuffed, they felt a little more confident. "Don't steal files just because you want to see me."
"Says you."
"This is really important and you should not put your nose into someone else's business."
"Again, rich coming from you," the villain said. They scrunched their nose. "Let me guess, this is too dangerous?"
"Exactly," the hero whispered. "I'll...I'll see you once this is all over."
They took one last look at the villain before they walked out of the office.
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bangaveragewhitewine · 17 hours
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baby, do you want to come home with me?
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Eddie Munson x Reader
Giving in to the tension feels good
Word count: 702
Contents: Making out. Pre-smut and getting handsy in a bathroom. Female reader (one use of 'her'). Title from Wet Dream, by Wet Leg.
Author’s note: This has been sitting half-finished in my docs named 'untilted eddie make out' for well over a month. It's barely read-over or edited, but here you go, Eddie girls. Come get your man!
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His breath is hot against your lips, tinged with smoke and hops. That smokey scent blends with spicy aftershave and the earthy fug of green. Every molecule of you feels aflame, sparked by the slide of his tongue against yours and the gentle command he leads with. He is addictive and you need another taste. 
After weeks of tension building, attraction growing stronger each time you saw each other instead of waning, you both gave in tonight. And oh are you glad you did. 
Eddie smiles when your mouths meet again; another deep kiss to make you melt between him and the scuffed brick wall at your back. He holds you tighter, closer, and presses up against you to make sure you don’t trickle away into a puddle or twirl off back to the dance floor with your ‘come get me’ eyes. He wants you a little longer and fancies his chances of getting to take you home tonight. 
He need not worry; the only place you're going is to find a cab, then home to your place or to his. The music is less loud here, but the base rumbles between your twisted-together bodies.
You can feel him, thick and hard and warm against you through double layers of denim - his and hers. There is buttery leather and surprisingly soft curls beneath your fingers, the sharp line of his flexed jaw and the cool hardware on his jacket. He makes you feel greedy for wanting all of it, all of him, the soft and the hard parts (but especially the hard part tonight). 
He makes this little noise when you tug his hair and his jaw falls slack when your nails catch on his scalp just right. You make a note of that for later as he licks into your mouth again, making you keen for him as he pairs that slow deep slide with the firm press of his thigh between your legs that feels so good. Your hips take up a slow roll, encouraged and steadied by his hand at the top of your ass and the perfect press of your jeans right there.
You’re not sure where he begins or where you end anymore, with blurred edges and winding limbs even when you break for breath briefly. A hammering fist on the door is just about enough to halt your kisses - but only after a couple of tries on the handle and an unsuccessful first knock. 
“Hello?!! Come on, man, I need to piss!” 
“Hold the fuck on.” 
Eddie’s voice is rough, a sharp pissed-off bark that echoes around the bar bathroom as you hide your warm face against his chest and give in to a dose of the giggles.
“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, soft just for you. 
His smile is stained with your lipstick, and you do your best to swipe the worst of it away with your thumb as you float back down to earth. He does a little to fix the smear below your lip, tender from kissing and the nip of Eddie’s sharp teeth. 
“I think they’re going to know…” you murmur, resisting the urge to take one more taste for yourself.
There will be no hiding it from whoever is banging on the door, whoever is queued up behind them with their full bladders and baggies of coke. It was not like either of you were subtle enough to fool your friends, even before you both disappeared together tonight. Not with your matching stained mouths, or Eddie’s tighter-now jeans. Not when you leave together tonight and arrive for breakfast together in the morning.
“Is that so bad?” 
You give in to that need for one more kiss, slow and sweet unlike the last one. It says enough to answer his question. 
Loud music and the sound of your own heart beating hard are not quite enough to drown out the complaints and wolf-whistles as you leave the locked bathroom together. Eddie leads again with confidence, bolstered by your lipstick on his face and your hand in his back pocket. Neither of you miss how the table of your friends raise their bottles and glasses as you pass them, a few bills exchanged for bets placed as you go find that cab and decide ‘your place or mine?’ 
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Thank you for reading 🖤 Reblogs, likes & comments are loved and cherished
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laneywrld · 1 day
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things lost and things found | Lewis Hamilton
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part two
word count: 10k
warnings: smut, smut, more smut, fluff.
A man not made for commitment also doesn’t know how to communicate
It's safe to say that since that night in Cannes nearly two months ago, the lines have blurred.
Every night Clem spends with Lewis ends with her falling asleep nestled in his arms.
Some nights, they don't even have sex; he just calls her up to see him. 
Their outings are no longer limited to his bedroom or whatever hotel he's shacked up in. They're often found all over tabloids and fan pages, seen out at clubs or dinners or even on simple excursions such as shopping or taking walks.
Clementine tries her hardest to remember that Lewis was noncommittal. He would never ever even think about dating her or taking her seriously. That realization and his vocally telling her to not make things weird every time he can see that he catches her off guard keeps her on track. 
Clem knew what she signed up for; quite literally, the NDA she signed entailed every component of their relationship.
Besides the weird butterflies she got around Lewis, life was only getting better and better.  
Being around someone who understands her fully and allows her to completely unravel herself to them has really been good for Clem socially and career-wise.
She was less awakward around people, less reserved and she felt like hey, this man has accepted me for my every little flaw, why wouldn't other people. 
She was moving up in the world, and people loved her for who she was, and for the first time ever, she did too.
She's won an emmy for her netflix show, her movie was breaking records, and she was finally stepping out of her box and showcasing other skills she had.
Along with this new burst of confidence came new relationships. 
She's been trying to go out on dates to see if now was finally the time for her to try to settle down and find something serious.
That what she was doing currently, at dinner sitting across from some NBA players as he rambles on and on about different shots he couldve taken during the game, that he most definitely lost.
Clem hums, eyes feigning interest as he describes how he actually wasn't open when he tried to go for a three-pointer. Shocker, he missed.
When he excuses himself to run to the bathroom, she whips out her phone, seeing that Lewis texted her. 
Lewis 🏁
How's your date?
She shakes her head, typing out her response.
dense. how's silverstone? 
Lewis 🏁
Nerve-wracking, my car is still shit.
i'm sorry 😞  
Lewis 🏁
I'm going to need you tonight.
Lewis, i'm on a date.
Clem scoffs, but the smile on her face as she presses send is misleading.
Lewis 🏁
Is he getting lucky tonight?
NO!
Lewis 🏁
So why can't I?
Clem feels the familiar tingle in her core and places her phone face down on the table just as her date takes his seat in front of her again. 
She can't help the incredulous eyebrow raise she gives him as she sees a powdery substance painting his nostril.
"Yeah, it was nice meeting you, love." She smiles politely as she stands and motions for him to wipe his nose. He lifts his camera just as Clem drops enough money to cover her bill and tip the waitress generously. 
She hops into the black SUV, thanking her driver for helping her into the back. She unlocks her phone and sees another message from Lewis.
Lewis 🏁
My jet will be waiting for you.
That is precisely how Clementine ended up in Lewis' hotel room, waiting for him on the bed as he took a quick shower. 
When he emerges from the bathroom she can only offer him an uplifting smile, he looks so tired and so stressed. 
It helps, it always does which is why Lewis wanted her here in the first place. She was like sunrise after the darkest of nights.
"Hi," she coos, opening her arms for the muscly man.
He falls into her arms, his torso bare and his bottom half swaddled in a towel. He lays his head in her lap as she sits against the headboard. He looks up at her face as she stares down at his, and she physically pouts as she brings her fingers up to massage the stress lines from his face.
"That bad?" she whispers as his eyes flutter closed. Lewis sighs, grumbling out a faint "Yeah."
"You don't have to go through it much longer, at least." She tries and she knows it does nothing to take the heavy weight of mercedes off of his shoulders.
"You feel like you're carrying the weight of the world." She hums, her hands traveling down to rub the tension out of his neck. Her fist rubs up and down from the sides of his neck to the crook of his shoulders.
Lewis lets out a relaxed sigh, letting her work on him. 
She doesn't know how long she sits there with him snuggled into her lap as she kneads the tension from his body. 
After a while, she connects to his speaker and plays music. She has Lewis turn over onto his stomach as she slips from underneath him.
She hums as she sits on his bottom and begins massaging his back. "Your back is bruised."
"I was bouncing around like crazy in that fucking car." He curses.
Clementine bends down, pressing kisses around his back on the purple and red marks adorning his skin. 
Lewis closes his eyes, relishing in the comfort she gives him.
Lewis has noticed it, too, the turn their dynamic has taken. He is aware that he has given slight leeway to the emotional part of their relationship. 
He finds himself thinking about Clem plenty throughout the days. Buys things he thinks she'll like. He's grown accustomed to placing delicate pecks on her lips and face randomly throughout their time together; he can't help it.
Something about her has him wanting her all of the time, not even in th physical way. He just wants her to be with him.
"Can you come out to the race tomorrow?" He rasps.
She sits up, her legs still encaging his body. "Hmm, I don't think your publicity team will like that, people are already speculating about us."
"I don't care." Lewis argues, "It's about time you come to a race, wanna see you immediately not wait to get to the hotel and then see you."
His words make her heart thump harsher, and suddenly, all of the warnings from her publicist dissipate.
"Okay." 
Lewis didn't initiate sex between them that night. He simply turns over with her still on top of him and places his hands on her thighs.
"Come here," he whispers, reaching up to tug her head down to his face.
Their lips lock and it's not rushed or leading to anything. It's like how he kissed her in France. It's just sweet?
She can feel his heart against her chest as she is pressed against him, beating rampantly. "Thank you for showing up for me." He mutters against her lips. She grins against him as she remembers the words she scribbled onto the note she'd given him with her gift.
"Always." she breathes, diving back in to kiss him. One hand travels to her waist, and the other has a soft grip on the back of her neck. 
She feels his member poke against her thigh, and she sits up as much as she can with his hand on her neck, ready to free him from the towel, but the hand he had on her waist stops her actions with a grip on her wrist.
"I just want to lay with you tonight, if that's okay?"
Just when she thought she was safe from her tom-foolish thoughts, she felt her suppressed feelings for Lewis take light again. Don't make it weird, she thinks to herself. "Okay." 
Lewis sits up, his hand returning to her hip; she is sat in his lap, legs folded, and his body pushes her slightly back as he tugs on the comforter. He falls back taking her with him and pulls the thick comforter over her body which lays against his chest.
"What's one thing that surprised you about me?"
Clem traces her fingers on his chest in deep thought, "that you don't do relationships."
"Why that?"
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis presses a kiss to her hairline, butterflies doing summersaults in his belly. 
-
They wake up the next morning in the same position, with Clem's face nestled in the crook of his neck. Lewis smiles as he reaches over to turn off his alarm.
"Gotta get up, Clem." He soothes, rubbing up and down her back. 
"Mhmm." She moans in denial, cuddling deeper into him. "No."
"Come on, beautiful."
He sits up, forcing her up with him.
She flutters her eyes open and wraps her arms around his neck. 
He chuckles at her defiance, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and standing. He taps her thigh and she gets the message, wrapping them around his waist.
He walks her into the bathroom and sits her down on the bathroom counter. "Sit here, be careful." He orders, unraveling her from his body. He almost gives up and tucks her back into bed as she whines at him.
He leaves the bathroom and returns with a small bag of hers. She slumps against the mirror as she hears him rustling about. When she hears the faucet turn on and then feels his big hands massage circles into her cheeks, she opens her eyes.
There, she sees Lewis standing there with a cheeky smile, his hands lathered in her face soap as he massages the suds onto her face.
"Going to have to get my girl ready myself, huh?" He questions.
She only smirks at him and closes her eyes, letting him work through her skincare routine step by step, laughing as he inquires about every product.
When he finishes, he washes his own face and then passes her toothbrush to her. He stands between her legs as they both brush their teeth. Both of them stare at each other with googly eyes, laughing as foam bubbles from their mouths. When she leans over to spit into the sink, he follows shortly after and then pours a capful of mouthwash for her and them himself. And again, they stare into each other's eyes, giggly and gleaming, as they swish the liquid between their puffy cheeks.
This is where Clementine struggled with the status of their agreement. These weren't the actions of a man who didn't intend to be in a relationship. But she had heard of Lewis and his many flings and "friends" and she knew that he was a very affectionate person so once again she willed away the thought that there was any chnace of Lewis ever straying away from his bachelor lifestyle. 
She pats his shoulder beckoning him to step away, when he does she hops down and releases the last of the contents from her mouth into the sink and stepping aside so Lewis can do the same. 
"I'm going to grab my clothes." She informs.
As she lays her outfit options across the bed, she hears a vibration beneath her shirt, and she leans over the bed, patting until she finds the culprit. When she feels the device, she pulls it from underneath and sees that it's not her phone but Lewis'.
The screen lights up with notifications. 
One catches her eye from, Natalie.
Lewis did feel comfortable enough to disclose his other flings to her, and she nearly shit herself when he associated them all with cities. She remembers the way he laughed when she asked if she needed to get tested. Then she asked if he had referred to her as Clementine, NYC.
Natalie, Silverstone. She recalls.
It wasn't like she was intentionally snooping, but as the screen lit up in her hand again, she couldn't help but read the message as it appeared.
Still on for tomorrow?
At first, she feels a pang in her chest, but then she remembers her place, and she gently sits his phone on the nightstand, allowing the screen to turn off.
"Hey, you okay?" Lewis questioned, poking his head from the bathroom, realizing that she had stopped responding to him. 
She is stood facing the bed with her hands on her hips, scanning her oufits. "Yeah," she smiles though it doesn't quite meet her eyes. 
He eyes her quizically, but when she chuckles at his facial expression, pulls her outfit from the bed, and saunters into the bathroom with him, he relaxes.
Clem is in her head, and she hopes it's not obvious to Lewis.
But she can't help but wonder why he would fly her out just to make plans to sleep with another woman in the span of two days.
She's hurt, and she's jealous, and she knows she shouldn't be, but a part of her wants to slap the shit out of him. 
Instead, she refrains and plays into whatever sick bullshit he was playing with her heart unintentionally.
-
She arrives to the paddock with Lewis and she tries not to grimace as he tells a journalist that he brings friends with him to races all of the time, as they pass by.
He opens the door to the Mercedes motorhome like the proper gentleman he is and directs her into his room.
"I'm just going to change into my suit, and then we can head to the garage, okay?"
She nods and pulls out her phone. Already, she sees that they are trending. 
Lewis steps out of the room and leaves the door open. A few minutes pass before she hears an audible gasp.
When she looks up, she sees a bright-eyed George Russell.
"Hello, Hi! I'm George, I'm a big fan." He enters the compact room, his hand outstretched before him. She stands from Lewis' bed and accepts his hand.
"Hi, George, I'm Clem."
"I know who you are. What are you doing here?" He wonders.
"I'm a friend of Lewis'. I wanted to see you guys race today."
George stutters out a wow, beginning to ramble on before he is interrupted by a throat clearing at the door. There stands Lewis, with a burning look on his face that makes George immediately drop her hand.
"Lewis." He gasps, "How do you literally know everyone, man?"
She smiles, raising her eyebrows behind Lewis as George rambles about her.
Lewis claps his hands against George's shoulder before speaking, "I love you, kid. But we've got to get going."
And then he reached his arm around George and latched onto Clem and pulled her from behind him.
George stammers out a quick bye, and Clem waves sweetly at him as Lewis pulls her from the motorhome and towards the garage.
"He's so sweet," Clem coos, and Lewis only grunts out a "yeah."
"He looks like a literal prince charming." She extends.
Lewis doesn't want to hear her call his teammate any more kinds of cute, so he opts not to respond.
When they finally reach the garage, he is sitting her down beside Toto, who introduces himself with a warm and welcoming smile.
She accepts his hand, gently shaking it, and in return, Lewis gets whisked away.
She enjoys her time in the garage, whilst Lewis talk to his strategist she is sat beside Toto and a few engineers and she feels like she is on a field trip as they explain the many different parts of their setup. Finally Lewis appears at her side again, beckoning her to follow him. She accepts his hand, lifting from her seat and walking hand in hand with him to his car.
"Wow." she gasps as she studies the racing car.
"You want to get in?" Lewis questions. She turns to him with wide eyes, and Lewis can see the excitement in her dark orbs.
"You don't like people in your car." She reminds, peering back down at it.
"I said I don't let just anyone in my car, are you just anyone?" He is staring at her so intensely it has her body on fire.
She felt shy underneath his gaze as he stepped closer to her.
She stands tall, looking up at him through her lashes. He's nearly bumping chests with her as he looms over her.
"There's an entire team in here, Lewis, and cameras." She whispers only loud enough for the two of them to hear.
He doesn't care. He leans down, his mouth near her ear, "Are you just anyone to me, Clementine?"
She swallows nervously as he takes a step back, "No."
"Then get in the fucking car."
Toto watches on from his seat in amazement as Lewis lifts her frame into the car. He then turns and looks into the camera with his eyebrows raised as to show his impressment. 
He put two and two together that she was a personal guest for Lewis. It was obvious since Mercedes had already planned for Tom Cruise and Damson Idris' arrival for the race today.
Lewis leans into the car as he motions to different parts on the inside of the automobile. 
Clem honestly couldn't give two fucks about the car, but she was relishing in how passionate Lewis looked and sounded as he spoke about every aspect of it. She hadn't moved her eyes from his face not once, and Lewis froze as he turned to face her and saw the wanting look adorning her features.
It has him hard instantly.
"Behave." He warns, turning his head to survey their surroundings.
"You're fine as fuck when you're talking cars."
Lewis chuckles, and a blush comes up to cover his cheeks. He lifts his hand, his knuckles skimming along her jaw.
"I want to kiss you, but people will see."
She drops her face against his hand, puckering her bottom lip out at him.
"Aw, too bad." She whispers seductively, and Lewis whispers out a quiet "fuck." as she tugs her bottom lip between her teeth. His thumb reaches up and drags it back out.
"Gotta be nice to me right now, Clem. Hmm?" He hums, not bothering to remove his thumb from her lip. He smears his finger across, watching as it pops back into place. 
"Help me out of this car." She smirks, lifting her arms, "Before you do something you'll regret, there are cameras around."
"I don't give a fuck about the cameras." He rasps and breaks out into a grin when she bursts into a fit of laughter. He smacks his teeth, standing up straight, preparing to get her out.
"You like fucking with me." He declares.
Lewis helps her from the car, his hands probably lingering on her lower back for far too long once she's back on the ground.
"Lewis." He hears, and when he turns around, he sees Tom and Damson.
He pulls Clem with him, introducing her to the pair. He instantly regrets it when he sees the way Damson eyes her down like she's a refreshing tall glass of water.
 Tom starts up a conversation with Lew about the business they need to handle for his upcoming movie, but his eyes can't leave Clem's frame, and how Damson brings her hand up to his lips. 
He feels like a suicidal maniac when he watches her laugh and smile at whatever he is saying.
He'd met him before, and trust, whatever he was saying couldn't possibly be that funny.
Lewis wants to rip Toto's head off as he directs the two of them into a set of empty seats. He was less than present during the conversation with Tom, and he hoped he hadn't noticed. His arms are folded over his chest, and his foot is tapping the ground anxiously. He tries not to make it obvious when he directs Tom to his spot and takes his in order to keep an eye on Clem.
When the time for the start of the race gets closer he is thankful to see Tom take his place beside Toto. 
He saunters over to the still chatty pair and stands in front of Clem. He waits for her to notice him, and when she doesn't, he clears his throat rather dramatically. 
She stands when she notices him, shooting Damson an apologetic smile that has him ready to drag her off. Which he does.
He pulls her to a corner of the garage and up the stairs into a random office and locks the door. 
"You okay." Clem questions, stepping towards him and placing her hands on his waist. "Lewis." she tries again when he doesn't answer.
He looks stressed and zoned out.
"I- uh yeah." he coughs and suddenly he feels better having her away from Damson. "i'm fine, pre-race jitters." He lies.
Her hands slide up his chest until they settle on the sides of his head.
She tilts his head so that he's staring into her eyes. 
"You sure?"
"Yeah."
"Okay."
"I'm regretting this." He admits and her eyes squint, "bringing you here, I mean."
That does nothing to alleviate her hurt expression, so he continues, "My car is still shit, I don't want you to watch me lose."
She scoffs, gently slapping her hand against his shoulder before returning it to its place caressing his beard. "Would’ve watched you lose at home too, what's the difference. I'm going to support you all the same."
Lewis leans down and presses a short, soft kiss to her plump lips.
Her eyes flutter closed as he stares down at her, and finally, his hands raised to her hips, pulling her into him. "I don't think that I tell you thank you enough for all of the ways you help me, Clem."
"You don't have to," she whispers, dropping her forehead against his chest. He rests his chin on top of her head, putting his arms over her shoulders as hers wraps around his torso.
Lewis likes this. He thinks he can start every race for the rest of his career like this. When he hears a knock on the door, he groans but shoots Clem a warning look as she chuckles at him.
"Big baby." she teases, moving around him to unlock the door. He maneuvers behind her, reaching to open it, and when he does, he sees Toto there with a knowing smirk.
"Time to race, Lewis."
She allows Lewis to pull her from the office hand in hand, and she knows her publicist is probably in New York and stressed running through cigarettes. She always joked that this Lewis rendezvous would result in her smoking her stress away.
Lewis knows something is wrong with him for sure when he realizes that he doesn't care about the camera or who's watching him show Clem his affection. He knows they're going to be the main topic of every tabloid tomorrow, and he just doesn't care.
She stands in front of him beside his car as the crew bustles around them.
When it's time for Lewis to finish his preparation, he motions his head towards Clem, and suddenly, her hands are stuffed with a balaclava and a pair of gloves. 
She turns to the man who handed them to her and he offers her a small smile. 
She turns to Lewis, and he can tell she's trying to fight off the grin that desperately wants to appear.
She reaches for his right hand, tugging the glove onto his hand gently, she checks each finger and pulls to make sure the fit is snug. She repeats her actions on his left hand and then Lewis firmly places his hands on her waist. He's looking at her with those sparkly eyes and a loving smile.
She turns the balaclava in her hands, trying to figure out which way to pull it over his head. When she sees the opening, she lets out an "Aahh" that has Lewis chuckling at her.
She stands on her tiptoes, freeing his braids from the ponytail and pushing them back. She hums to herself as she pulls the balaclava over his head. 
She settles back on her feet, and she can only see his eyes, but it does something to her. 
She reaches between them pulling the upper half of his suit up his body, giggling when he grunts realizing he's got to let go of her to push his arms through the sleeves.
His hands are back on her in an instant, like by not physically touching her he'd fly away.
Clem reaches between them again; this time, her fingers latch onto the zipper, and she tugs it up from his pelvis all the way up his chest until it's set in place. 
"I don't know, Lew. I think we've at least got a podium." She whispers, accepting the helmet.
She steps back, allowing his hands to fall, and then hands him the helmet.
"I can feel it in my bones." 
"Oh," Lewis laughs, "Can feel it in your bones?" He sticks out his free hand, tickling at her.
Clementine laughs, stepping back and gripping his arm, "Stop!" 
He listens, pulling on his helmet and looking back at his car.
"Well, that's me."
Clem feels like a lovesick puppy as she watches his eyelashes flutter with every blink of his eyes.
"Podium." She reminds him, lifting her pinky.
"Podium." He declares, wrapping his own against hers. He lifts their conjoined hands and places them against his helmet where his mouth would be, and she swoons.
"Get in the car, Hamilton."
She's a giddy mess as she steps away from him and finds herself accepting a seat from one of the crew members.
She sighed while watching the screen as Lewis started in P5. He is quickly into P4. She feels her adrenaline kick in as the crew cheers excitedly watching him overtake into third. When he overtakes two other drives all in the same lap the garage erupts in shouts of excitement, just for that to be taken away just as fast when they see a car barrel through off od the track and into the fence.
Clem gasps, her hand coming up to cup her mouth.
She knew Formula One was a dangerous sport, but watching a wreck like that happen in real-time has her mind reeling on just how much danger Lewis puts himself in.
"Is he okay?" She hears as the crew all talk amongst themselves.
"George is out of the race. The other driver is okay." Toto announces, "We're restarting."
Lewis is back in the garage, and he is irritated.
Clem stays back and out of his way as she watches him angrily rant. "That is not right, Toto." He snaps, "back in fifth?"
She watches as Toto nods at him, and Lewis turns to his assistant, rolling his eyes. He looks so frustrated as he throws his hand out, "fucking fifth."
Clem knew that when she was angry that she didn't like to be bothered, so she stayed in her seat. She feels a body plop down beside her, and she turns to see Damson.
"Intense, yeah?" He questions.
"Most definitely." She sighs, "My adrenaline is off the charts right now."
"First time coming to a race?"
She nods, returning the question, "Nah, this is like the NFL to Brits."
She laughs, "Right."
The two chat whilst the rest of the garage is in shambles, and Lewis watches the two with slits in his eyes. 
He knows he shouldn't be jealous. Clem was nothing to him but a friend who he enjoys fucking. It's what he tells himself as Damson passes his phone to her. She was just his friend. He'd even encouraged her to get out there and find her person.
But that was before he realized how differently she made his heartbeat.
Lewis doesn't bother going over to her before the race restarts, he can feel her lingering eyes as he manuevers around the garage, avoiding her.
Lewis feels a bit enraged. Initially, it was just the FIA and their stupid fucking rules, then it was the car, and now it was Clementine and the stupid British actor drooling over each other in his face.
It was all piling on top of him, and he hadn't felt so unsettled ever before a race. 
He hops back into his car, not sparing Clem a glance, and rolls out into P5.
This time the only thing on his mind is how fucking mad he is. 
That anger got him P3. 
He doesn't know why he doesn't approach Clem as she waits for him patiently in her seat. He goes around and thanks the crew and the engineers and has a brief talk with Toto and Tom. And then he leaves to go to the podium, all without even glancing at her.
Clem, always aware, remains silent and tries to keep the pout from taking place on her face.
She tries not to take Lewis' actions personal, it's obvious he's wound up. She doesn't know if it's something she did or if he's still frustrated by the race restart. Logically it's the second, she's learned that not everyone's behaviors have to do with her. It's taken years of her enternalizing other people's moods to realize that 9/10 people are just feeling things. She hasn't done anything, she's sure of it.
She is directed into the motorhome whilst Lewis handles other business and she sits in his room on his bed waiting patiently.
When Lewis had brought up the idea of bringing her to the race yesterday, he raved on and on about how she'd be able to walk the track, wait with his team whilst he's on the podium (if he got one), and get the classic guest experience. She hadn't gotten that, which was a letdown since she really wanted to experience Lewis' world, but she understood why that wasn't possible today after seeing Lewis' mood.
But still, it would have been nice not to sit in his motorhome and then the garage all day, just to end up back in his motorhome alone for hours. 
When Lewis emerges into the tiny room he is clean and dressed in comfortable clothes. He had been on the phone in the office preparing a few arrangements for the past hour. He sighs as he sees her frame sprawled across the tiny bed. 
There are soft puffs of air escaping her, and her phone is clutched loosely in her hand.
He can tell she fell asleep scrolling through her phone.
He sits on the foot of the bed at her feet and drops his head into his hands.
He doesn't know what he's doing. But he does know he can't keep going on like this. Lewis didn't like relationships, he didn't like being tied down, it wasn't fair of him to only want Clem to himself when she would never get all of him. 
"C'mon Clem, let's get you back."
Like the sleepy girl she is, she whines as Lewis pulls her body from the bed, placing her on her feet. 
"Can you walk?" 
She only nods, reaching over to grab her bag and her phone. She doesn't speak to Lewis quite yet, still unsure of his mood. She lets him direct her from the motorhome, his hand tight in hers as he leads her through the paddock. It is so late at night that there are rarely any people hanging around. When they exit and get to his car, the flashes from the cameras wake her up even more, and she uses the back of her hand to block the lights. 
Lewis walks her to the passenger side, waiting for her to slip in before he closes the door gently and goes around to his seat.
He pulls out cautiously and begins their trek to the hotel.
Clem forces herself to stay awake, knowing that it's only a short drive.
Still, she is waiting for Lewis to speak, but he doesn't. 
"I had fun," she announces.
"I'm glad."
"You got podium." She cheers lowly.
Lewis only offers her a small smile, and uncertainty settles in her gut. Something's not right.
She gives up trying to talk to him after that. 
The car is filled with tension and awkward silence. It's so unlike them.
When they pull into the hotel, Clem doesn't wait for the valet to open her door. She clambers out and thanks god as the night breeze fills her lungs. She's never felt so suffocated around Lewis.
As Lewis exchanges formalities with the man she rushes into the hotel and onto the elevator, when she reaches the room she unlocks it with the secondary key taking a moment to gulp down a glass of water.
Lewis follows in behind her shortly after, paying her no mind as he goes to the bathroom and emerges with his shirt and jewelry off.
"You got an attitude?" Lewis questions, standing in the doorframe.
"No, I don't." 
"I know you, Clementine." Lewis rasps, coming to stand over her as she sits on the bed.
"You're the one with the nasty ass attitude." She huffs, reaching up to nudge him away from her. He doesn't budge.
"Lose the attitude, Clem." He orders, and she rolls her eyes. 
"Or what, Lewis?" She pushes.
Lewis' hand is at her neck in a second. His grip is not tight at all, just holding her in place as he ravishes her mouth. Just as frustrated as he is, she returns the kiss.
"Got something for that attitude," Lewis grunts, pushing her onto her back.
She gasps as he roughly pulls at her pants.
He has them off before she knows it, and his hand lets go of her neck and travels down to pull at her panties. He rips them off of her with a hunger in his eyes like no other. 
"Gotta fuck it out of you, Clem?" He asks. 
He doesn't give her time to answer as he sinks down to his knees at the end of the bed and pulls her down with him. He lifts her legs over him and wraps his arms around her thighs. His hands settle on her thighs, keeping them apart, and he stares up at her one last time before connecting his mouth to her clit.
She jumps, but his hands hold her in place.
He removes his lips from her bundle of nerves, his tongue traveling down to swipe through her crease. She moans lightly as she fists at the sheets. His fingers travel up to replace his mouth, and he digs them deep into her core, his tongue flicking against her clit before he presses it flat and moves up and down.
Clem gasps as he curls his fingers inside her and suckles extra hard on her. Her hand shoots down to push him away, but he catches her wrist in his free hand, holding it against the mattress. 
He stares up at Clem, the whole scene naughty and erotic. He lets her other hand come down to rest in his hair. 
Lewis moans into her, his mouth sending a wave of vibrations through her body. Lewis never took his eyes off of her, watching as she writhed above him. He was showing her no mercy as the gushy sounds filled the room. 
She tasted so good.
Lewis worked his tongue around her clit, teasing her only for a minute before he smushed his mouth over it again and suckled just the right amount, his fingers still thrust in and out of her, driving her absolutely insane. He moans into her pussy and trails his mouth down to swallow where she is oozing. 
Lewis lets her captivating moans egg him on as he devours her like a starved man. He can feel it when she comes when her tight, spongy pussy constricts around his fingers. He happily licks up the juices she releases as she comes undone. 
He pulls his fingers from her core and stands, quickly turning her body over. She lands on her stomach with a slight "oomph" noise and turns to look back at Lewis.
He wastes no time hammering into her from behind. He grabs her arms pulling them behind her back and crossing her wrists; with one hand, he holds them against her back, and with the other, he swats at her ass. Groaning as he watches it ripple.
"Fuck."
Clem can do nothing but pant underneath him and let out pathetic mewls as his hand repeatedly strikes her ass. It hurts so good.
Lewis keeps pounding into her hard, his heart racing as he chases his own orgasm. He sees her phone light up beside him, and a message from Damson appears. 
When he sees this, he speeds up his thrusts, gliding his thick member in and out of her suffocating walls. 
She can only blubber out useless moans as he plummets in and out of her.
He lets go of her wrist, pulling her up onto all fours. 
"You get a thrill out of pissing me off?" He grunts, his hand going up to grip her hair.
"No!" she whines, gripping the covers.
"I think you do." 
His other hand is gripping her waist, pulling her back to him every time she falls forward.
"Nuh-unh." He orders from behind her, letting go of her hair and holding on to her waist tightly with both hands now.
"Don't run from it, baby. You wanted this, huh? This what you want?"
Clem rasps out a choked yes, her head falling at the intense pleasure running through her veins.
Lewis sounds like a beast behind her, all strangled up and growling out praises at her. 
He feels so possessive as his hand lifts and smacks at her ass again. "Fucking, mine." He growls, and Clem falls forward. He doesn't stop as her legs give in, and she drops to the bed again. He climbs behind her, still keeping his pace, and throws his head back as she quivers around him like a candle on fire. 
He can feel the heat building in his core, and it eggs him on as he places his hands on her ass, holding her in place.
Clementine spasms beneath him, never experiencing an orgasm like this before. Her heart feels like it's beating outside of her chest as her ears ring and her eyes roll to the back of her head. She can only curse over and over as she feels Lewis drag out of her and return again with much more force. 
This was the best sex she'd ever gotten in her life.
Her walls clenched around him, her breath hitching as he moved aimlessly in and out of her.
Lewis shuddered at the feeling, sucking in a sharp breath at the sensation. She is face down, panting into the mattress as he pants above her.
She can't count how many times she has come undone underneath him, but as she feels another orgasm approaching, she can't help the way her thighs tremble underneath Lewis. 
Lewis is an incoherent, mumbling and moaning mess above her as he allows himself to succumb to her squeezing cunt, clamping over him. Lewis falls into the abyss, pleasure washing over both of them as he spills into her.
He pulls out with a hiss, shuddering at his sensitivity, and falls over beside Clementine, who rolls onto her back.
"Woah." she pants.
Lewis feels her phone vibrate and he watches as she scambled down the bed to get it, he feels green as he watches her smile at the screen.
Just as she moves to lie beside him again, he speaks up with words that make her feel dismayed.
"I booked you a room."
He turns away from her, staring at the ceiling.
"I- What?" She stutters, turning to face him.  
"It's just a floor below, suite 909."
Clem is distraught, and it shows on her face as she jumps away from the bed as if Lewis has burned her. "Lewis, what-"
Her words are cut off as her phone vibrates in her hand. Lewis chuckles dryly, finally tilting his head to face her. Suddenly Clem feels like a little girl again, wondering why her parents never made an effort in her life, wondering why it was so easy for them to push her aside like they didn't care that she existed.
"What's the matter? Are we okay?" She rambles.
Stop talking, Lewis. He thinks to himself as he watches Clem's eyes flash with wetness. Even sad, she has doe eyes, still shining, but this time, there are tears in her eyes and an intense sadness. 
"Yeah," he should’ve stopped there, but he kept going. "I'll probably see you tomorrow. If not, it'll be the next time I need you." He motions to the bed.
Clem frowns, letting out an exhale as she bends down to tug on her pants. As she maneuvers around the room collecting her suitcase, Lewis calls out to her. "I put the room key beside your toiletry bag."
She slips into the bathroom, picking up her small bag, and sure enough, the keycard is there. She grasps it in her hand and walks out. She wants to scream at him, tell him how big of a dick he's being, but she's not that kind of person.
She is graceful. But it's taking everything in her to channel the lessons her grandpa has taught her when she is this mad, this hurt. 
Clem avoids looking at Lewis as she latches onto her suitcase. 
 "Maybe you should start considering finding someone who's serious, Clementine."
Is this what this is about? She knew the blurred lines would come back to bite her in the ass eventually.
She freezes, her back turned to him as her hand pauses on the door handle. And her body shakes slightly as a her frown deepens, she feels a stream of tears flow down her cheeks.
And just when Lewis thinks that Clem is going to turn around and argue with him, probably throw something at him and shout at him, she doesn't.
She lifts one hand, swiping at her face, and then softly opens the door and leaves without so much as looking back at him. The door clicks shut behind her, and she walks on down the hallway towards the elevator. 
The words don't react, echoing over and over in her head, but as she hears the wheel rolling on her suitcase, she can't help but feel the trembling in her body. She presses her lips together, stepping onto the elevator, and as the doors close, she lets out a gutwrenching sob. 
She sniffles as she steps into the suite. Rushing to the bathroom to shed her clothes, she showers wiping all traces of Lewis Hamilton from her body the way she wishes she can erase him from her mind. She scrubs harshly, eyes still full with tears, between the scorchingly hot water, steam and the tears she can barely see anything as she scrubs severely.
For the first time since agreeing to this arrangement, she feels used by Lewis. She's never felt so dirty in her life. As she sank down to her knees, feeling the wails rip through her body with force, she realized why exactly his words and actions hurt her so much. 
It didn't matter how much she showed up for him or how much she allows herself to be his shrink and him hers, it'd always be a bad religion, loving someone who'd never love you back.
Lewis is in the same position he has been in since she left, flat on his back with his hands covering his face. His body is quivering as sobs rack through his body.
It was a tough decision, but it was one that had to be made. He could never give Clem what she deserved; he wasn't a committed person. Seven years on and off with the same person is proof of that. He could never be okay with putting her through that.
-
Lewis wakes up the next morning with a pounding headache and lingering loneliness. 
He always felt like this when he woke up without Clem in his arms. As he sits up and swipes his hands over his face, his heart aches when he notices her ripped panties thrown on the floor.
He regrets his actions. 
He wishes he would've sat her down nicely and explained how things were getting too deep for him. It's Clem, she would've understood. 
He realizes just how bad he fucked up when her giddiness to lay beside him last night flickers through his mind like a clip from a movie.
"What if we lay in bed after every meetup and we just talk?"
He feels like he's been shot when her hurt face replays over and over. He treated her like shit last night, all because he was scared of what she made him feel. 
He was a mess during yesterday's race; all he could think about down every straight and around every curve was how much he liked Clem, how good she made him feel, and bad she could make him feel just as easily.
He realized that the woman had too much control over his heart yesterday, and he couldn't take that. This was supposed to be fun, casual fun. He never inteded to catch feeling for Clementine Russell, but she was the kind of girl who made you drop to her feet.
He never stood a chance against her charm.
He scrambled from the king-sized bed, rushing to his phone.
-
When he hears a knock on his door, he opens it in a rush; he sees the butler there and offers him a finger to signal to hold on. He rushes to his table, picking up the bouquet of flowers, an array of red, yellow, and orange orchids, dahlias, and marigolds. 
"Can you take these down to suite 909?" Lewis pants pushing the boquet towards the man, there is a note nestled between the pedals.
The man tilts his head, pushing the flowers back towards Lewis.
"I am sorry, Sir Hamilton, Ms Russell has checked out already in the early hours of Midnight."
Lewis feels his heart crumble as he steps away from the man, the giant bouquet firm in his hold.
Lewis says nothing as he closes the door and walks away. 
-
Clem had left that night, not long after leaving Lewis' room. After her shower, she was on the first flight home, and she hadn't spoken to Lewis since. 
Lewis misses Clementine. It's a realization that he came to rather quickly but refused to admit.
Lewis pulls himself out of the leggy woman he picked up at the end of his race. She drops down beside him in heavy pants. 
"That was fun." She exhales.
He doesn't know why when he turns his head, he expects to see Clem staring back at him with her dark eyes and cute smile. 
This woman is no Clementine, and that's for sure. 
He doesn't know why he tries it, but he does. "You can go anywhere in the world under one condition. You'd have to stay there forever; everything is unchanged, and nothing new will ever come. Where do you choose?"
He watches as her eyes scrunch momentarily in confusion.
"I don't know. It's probably Paris. I'm obsessed with their lifestyle, honestly."
Lewis turns his head back to the ceiling.
He wants her to leave. And he wants Clementine to be in her place.
It's quiet and awkward, and she doesn't even try to ask him. 
He already knows his answer. He'd be with Clem in his bed, hands connected as they lie naked underneath his covers, heads turned to each other as they talk. He'd watch on as the moonlight supersedes the darkness and the moonbeams are replaced with sun rays. And he'd listen to her feel things like she made him. And he'd be happy and content with spending eternity like that.
Everything unchanged, nothing new.
Lewis begins to think that maybe casual sex isn't for him anymore. Perhaps he's taking Clem's absence extra hard because he yearned for the other form of intimacy, the emotional aspect of being with a woman.
So he tries dating. 
And he comes to the same conclusion, date after date.
Their eyes don't gleam like hers.
They don't understand his humor.
They don't care about why losing his favorite toy as a kid was an integral part of the man he became.
They can't carry on discussions like Clem or even talk like Clem.
They don't have her precious smile and her deep dimples. They're not gracious and benevolent.
They aren't Clem, no one ever will be.
Lewis craves Clem; he misses her with every fiber of his being.
And he regrets letting her up from his bed. He regrets telling her to pursue another man. 
When Lewis returns to New York, his thumb lingers over the send button.
clemmy 🪂
I need to see you, where are you?
He doesn't send the message; he drops his phone with a sigh, knuckling at his eyes. Why was it so fucking hard? He'd never felt this troubled in his life, especially over a woman he'd never even dated.
He sighs in distress, picks up his phone, stares at the message begging to be sent, and clicks off of the app. Instead, he opens his Instagram. As he goes to search for Clem's name, he sees that she is still his top search, and he feels like a loser as he enters her profile.
He'd take any sight of her he could get.
-
Clementine wouldn't say she was necessarily religious. Her grandpa would probably drop dead of a heart attack if he heard that. But it was the truth. She thought it was fairytale-like sometimes. Yes, she had faith, but she wasn't as devout as many people. 
If she was being honest, she thought religion began as something beautiful, putting your complete trust and faith into another person, with the idea that they were quite literally the holy grail. Over time, it's been skewed and manipulated, some for great purposes and others for very wrong reasons. 
She thought most religious people were hypocrites. Lewis was a hypocrite for sure, giving her an inch and then taking a mile. Now that she has had time to ponder over it, Lewis Hamilton is actually a sick man. Pouring affection into her and poisoning her heart. 
How did he expect her not to fall for him when he treated her the way he did? She feels like a fool herself, too, thinking back to the conversation she had with him the night before it all went to shit. 
"You're a lover boy at heart." Clem chortled, "Literally just a sweetheart. Most men who can't see themselves being with someone don't act as affectionate with women."
Lewis lets out a hmm sound, his hand still gliding up and down her back beneath his t-shirt that she wore.
"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"
"Good, there's nothing wrong with being a sweetheart; bad if someone gets the wrong idea; I have a feeling you're an easy man to fall in love with."
Lewis was a hypocrite, and she was too. 
But the truth is religion gave people purpose. She'd never felt it firmly in a spiritual sense, but she had experienced that strong urge to follow someone's every command. She's believed every word that tumbles from his mouth. Given the opportunity, she would surely drop to her knees at his feet. She's only ever felt the need to praise and put her limited faith and her secured trust into one person. Sure, she had faith, just in a bad religion. She admired one man, Lewis Hamilton, but there was one problem, she could never make him love her the way she loved him.
Clem took his advice. She branched off, presented herself in new ways, made new friends, developed herself, and found someone who would take her seriously, though that didn't last long at all. 
clementine
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clementine so, they've helped me make an album? Clementine, NYC out now on all streaming platforms !! 
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feliciathegoat Cool kids doing cool shit 🏌🏿
clementine the coolest 😎
lilyachty ALBUM OF THE FUCKING YEAR
clementine 🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️🤸🏾‍♀️
user no bc who did my girl like that
clementine no really, it's okay though builds character 😃
user builds character my ass, go beat his ass
user A MOVIE AND MUSIC IN THE SAME YEAR ASVJHKHK WHEN DO WE GET SEASON 2???
clementine yk im filming girl 🙄
clementine
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clementine two post in one day bc why not, what's everyone's favorite song from Clementine, NYC?!?
danielricciardo In your hands slaps
clementine you sir, have great taste 😘
user daniel what are you doing here 😭
user No really, weird ass crossover episode
user the blue hair to match the album cover the movie * chefs kiss*, your creativity is unmatched queen
clementine you noticing the small details >>>
justinbieber posting us arguing over the order is killing me
clementine no bc we both look so over it 😂
user I love her and Tyler's friendship sm
feliciathegoat i love my bestie
clementine and I love u T 🥹
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-
Lewis instantly throws in his airpods and starts the album, one by one he listens to each song. Sure enough every song has small anecdotes about their time together that only he'd know.
He was aware that he was blurring the lines between just benefits and true feelings, but he didn't know that he wasn't the only one feeling strongly about it. He never took her feelings into account.
Just when he thought he couldn't feel any worse about the situation, that realization dawned on him. Clementine Russell loved him and he threw her to the curb like a bag of trash. 
He's throwing on whatever clothes he sees first as he rushes from his door. 
He doesn't bother calling his driver as he treks block after block; he has one destination in mind, Clem's townhome. 
He's there before he knows it, his fist urgently banging against her door. 
He sees a light flicker on through the window, and then her door swings open.
She's in her nightshirt with her hair wrapped in a scarf, and her eyes are puffy from sleep. When she sees Lewis, she begins to swing the door back closed, but his hand pushes against it.
"No, Lewis." She snarls, swinging the door open again. She is looking at him like he's the devil himself. "I don't want to see you, I don't want to talk to you, I don't even want to think of you."
"Clem, please." He begs, "Please, I can't take it."
She pauses at the door, taking her time to study the man in front of her. He looks bad, simply put.
His eyes are bloodshot and droopy with bags, his braids are disheveled and clearly in need of a touch-up, and he just looks all around miserable.
She almost gives in until she thinks back to the last eight months where she had been miserable herself. She smacks her teeth swinging the door closed until she hears Lewis shout out three words that take her back to when the roads got foggy, Cannes. When she realized the difference in how she actually felt for Lewis.
"I love you."
She peels the door back open and stares at him intensely. "What did you say?"
He looks like he's watched his whole world get taken away from him as he repeats himself, "I love you. Don't shut the door, please."
"It's not fair, Lewis." She fumes.
"I know." He whispers, and his voice cracks.
"You don't get to do this to me." Clem snapped. "You can't just make me feel things for you and then push me away. You can't make me love you and then hurt me and tell me you love me when it's too late."
"I'm sorry."
"Sorry, isn't enough." She hissed angrily, approaching him and poking his chest. 
He reaches up and grabs her hand, holding it close to his chest. She feels him shudder underneath her touch, and his body begins to shake.
"Clem, I'm sorry." his voice is hoarse and thick as he peers down at her, and she cracks when she feels a teardrop against their connected hands. "I'm sorry."
Her forehead drops against his chest, and he wraps his arms around her. "You didn't deserve that; I should have just told you; I was scared; you broke all of my walls, Clem; I didn't know what to do. I didn't want to hurt you in the end."
"But you did, " she cries.
"I know, I did; I was scared of commitment, was scared I would ruin us further down the line." He presses a kiss to the top of her head, "I'm not scared of commitment, Clem, not anymore. I just don't want to be committed if it's not to you."
"You don't mean that." Clem breathes. 
"I promise I do, Clem."
She steps back from him, letting his arms fall to his side. "You made me feel dirty."
He opens his mouth, and she puts up her hand, "Let me talk. I let you disrespect me, Lewis. I should be done with you. I should be over you. I don't care how much I feel for you; if you ever, and I mean ever, speak to me that way or treat me like I'm nothing ever again, all gracefulness is out of the fucking window."
"I understand." He breathes, "I will never, Clem, and I mean never treat you like that again."
It's ironic, the two of them standing infront of each other as the sky illuminates in yellow and orange hues. 
"It's six in the morning." Clem sighs.
"I couldn't stop thinking about you."
"I wasn't supposed to be here today; you almost missed me," Clem informs.
"I would've found you. Lost you once already. I didn't know how much I cherished what we had until I no longer had it. Until I lost it. I don't want to lose you forever, too."
"It's almost spring," Clem announces. 
"Gonna take you to that mountain, Clem." He promises, pulling her into his arms again.
"I've missed you so much. There were so many things I wanted to talk to you about. I missed talking to you." She admits and Lewis holds her tighter.
"I missed listening to you. Swear I did." 
"Are we still friends?"
"No, we're more than that. We should’ve never been friends. Always meant to be more." 
"I wrote an album about you." She sighs.
She feels Lewis hum against her. "It's beautiful."
"I talked so much shit about you, I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry for feeling Clem, I was a shit person to you." 
"My hair is blue." She announces, and he chuckles; there she was, his Clem talking his head off.
"Starting over, right?"
"Yeah, starting over."
Although they weren't laying in bed on their backs hands connected and staring through the ceiling like it was their sky. Things felt familiar to the two as the sun rose and light beamed around them.
Lewis was her sunset, the beauty that comes after a hard and blaring day. To him, she was the sunrise. After the darkness, it will always be light again. She was his light source, and he knew that now. He could never lose something that's always shining. 
"Thank you for showing up for me."
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Not proofread
the album:
bad religion - frank ocean
in your hands - halle
i think- tyler, the creator
saturn- sza
broken is the man- jorja smith
everything is gonna be alright- infinity song
everything- kehlani
mine- beyonce ft drake
poison- beyonce
are we still friends- tyler, the creator
eternal sunshine- jhene aiko
<3
192 notes · View notes
elixrr · 3 days
Text
Okay, that's great and all, but—
↪ Aventurine x Reader|Fluff
➢ headcanon:gossip buddies; friends -> lovers
➢ fic part:Aventurine, from some rumors that you're dating each other, realizes that he likes you, and he tries his best to confess (and succeeds, but also fails).
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imagine if you and Aventurine worked similar jobs, you guys work in the same place, but both of you love gossip, and because you're in the same building half the time and know all of the people, you guys have access to vigorous, and I mean vigorous amounts of tea (i.e., gossip). So, every Friday night, you dedicate a time and place to meet up at and start spilling all of the tea you've both gathered!
Echoes of mindless chatter and heavy laughter filled the room. Tonight, you went out with Aventurine for your typical gossip night. Every so often, you'd bring a friend or two along if the gossip involved them, but tonight, it was just you and him. You dressed up quite nicely for the hangout, and though you're not out on a date, you sat in front of him, and he sat in front of you—and both of you were particularly well-dressed. A smile rested on your face, as did one for him, and you were both ready to spill every ounce of tea you've gathered.
Sometimes, either you or Aventurine would have to miss a Friday for work (but you typically missed some days for family or friends, and you've wondered why he hasn't ever mentioned neither friends nor family on his side, but you dare not pry), but that just meant either more tea would build up, or tea would be lost. Typically, it'd be the former, but every so often, the gossip of one thing would begin to die down, and after so long, it becomes old and boring. To prevent that, you'd usually just text Aventurine when you know he's available.
Emma did it— she finally caved in and admitted what happened. This is grand news, and calls for an even grander retelling, not to mention the fact that you and Aventurine have been on this topic for a while! This is the hottest stuff in the workplace right now, but Aventurine told you that he wasn't available this coming Friday. Crud, but this is the best stuff for you and him right now, so you'd might as well text him!
you:rine!! RINE YOU WON'T BELIEVE WHAT JUST HAPPENED
aventurine:if it isn't my dearest gossip spiller, what's up?
you:yk Emma, right? ofc you do, she's the Emma we've been on about for a whole month. She was apparently cornered by Joshua, Noah, and even that one doofus who spat on your shirt last week!
aventurine:No way. Did she spill everything that happened, or did she lie?
you:She. Spilled. Everything. Her face turned so red when she saw their reactions to what she did. I mean, I felt a little bad, but after everything she's done? Deserved. Here, her sister sent me a photo.
you sent an attachment. December 19th, 14:27, XX23.
aventurine:the look on her face is priceless, and yk what? Let's meet up tomorrow during lunch, we literally have to talk about this
you:wait, but tomorrow's Wednesday, I thought you'd be packing for Thursday?
aventurine:;)
aventurine:not anymore!
Still, even when you guys carry all of the good gossip, some rumors still revolve around you both— albeit the fact that his rumors are more brutal than yours, people still enjoy talking about you two. One of the main topics about you two is your relationship. You see him as your friend, and the same goes for him, but people seem to find themselves entertaining the thought of you and him dating. Actually, about a week or so after Emma was caught, she and her new boyfriend, Harvey, went on a date on your weekly Friday gossip night at the same time, and in the same place. She caught you and Aventurine sitting across from one another in fancy clothing, laughing and smiling all around— it might've been the first time that she's seen him genuinely smile, but she carried a huge smug face, snapped a photo, and quickly let that photo sink into every mind who saw that photo. She exaggerated it, edited it, and made up all of these strange, unnecessary things and details to leave people in awe— even Topaz was confused. Were you and Aventurine... actually dating? She thought it was just some rumor, but now she just had to ask.
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Perhaps Aventurine had one glass too much of SoulGlad? He felt just a little lightheaded, but he didn't want to interrupt or leave you in the middle of the conversation. You were leaving for vacation in a few days, apparently visiting Penacony for a while, and he knew he'd miss you (as much as he refuses to admit it, you might be one of his only few friends outside of everything work-related), so he let you go on, and he let himself drown out all of the noise to listen to you speak. Although these nights would usually be full of gossip, you weren't talking about anything in particular right now, just going on about how rough this week was and how excited you are for Penacony. He can't really understand everything, but he likes your voice. It's the voice of not only a colleague— but the voice of a friend. He likes to linger on that word, “friend.”
“Hey, Aventurine?”
“Huh, yeah? Don’ worry, I'm listening.”
He watches your eyes flicker from him and to your phone. Hesitant, you show him the image that was taken a few minutes ago, as well as the series of messages you've received as a result.
“Emma took a photo of us, and she's telling everyone that we're on a date. Apparently, she even claimed that you proposed to me?”
Aventurine doesn't say anything, but he takes your phone and looks at the photo that Emma took. It's high-quality, focused primarily on you two, but you're facing more towards the camera, and he isn't. You're smiling. Your hair's a little disheveled from constant movement, but you're still so—
“Jeez, even Topaz got a hold of the photo.” You steal Aventurine from his trance and signal for him to look at his phone. Jade and Topaz began bombing his phone, Topaz more than Jade.
“Aeons, I didn't expect us to become such a hot topic.” He jokes, rolling his eyes as he begins replying to every text message he receives.
“I didn't expect this mind of an audience waiting for some announcement about us. Everyone's saying stuff like ‘omg, I knew it!’ or even ‘I had a feeling this day would come!’ and, well, I'd hate to break it to you guys, but we're not dating!”
But we could be. I mean, it's what the audience wants. They've been giving us what we wanted, so why not do them a favor?
Maybe it's the SoulGlad. Maybe it's the sheer, bitter need for companionship that's been bugging him like this, but Aventurine has absolutely no idea as to why he's thinking these kinds of thoughts.
He closes his eyes and listens to you speak again.
Maybe another SoulGlad wouldn't hurt. Maybe if he drank another one, he wouldn't need to push this feeling away.
Maybe if I have one more SoulGlad, I could voice these thoughts.
.
.
It's the New Year. Tomorrow, you'll be leaving for Penacony, and he'll go two Fridays without you. The thing is, you're not replaceable. He wanted everyone at arms length, but you've broken past that point, and you leaving will also leave behind this void of loneliness that he just can't fill.
And, no, he didn't actually voice his thoughts out. He was going to, on multiple occasions, but he didn't.
Except, he really, really wanted to.
Right now, you're on the phone with him as he sits on his luxurious bed, still in pajamas. You're talking about another person and his girlfriend, Jamie, and how they make for a horrible, loveless couple because of the things they've done to each other, to others, and for themselves. The topic as a whole was interesting, really, but he had a whole other conversation in mind.
This is a horrible thing to confess before you leave. But, to Aventurine, it's a gamble worth its risks.
“Hey, by the way,” he catches you right when you fall silent to think of your next point, “about those rumors about us being a couple... How did you react to them?”
“Huh?” You scratch your neck, pondering. “Well, I mean, I just know it myself that we are, in fact, not dating, so if anyone were to ask about it, I'd just debunk the rumors.”
Ouch. You really see him as a friend, huh?
Aventurine shakes his head. This won't do— he can't overthink now.
“In that case, let me propose an... Idea to you.”
“Oh?”
He feels his left hand shake at his lap. Then, he notices the trembling of his right hand. He's nervous— no, he's terrified.
“U– Uhm, well...” He pauses. The words lump in his throat, and he chokes on his own doubts.
“Rine, don't be nervous. You've got this, I don't care how embarrassing or stupid this idea could be.” Your voice rings through his mind, and he's nervous from the sound of it. A blush creeps into his cheeks. It's all or nothing; he's already brought it up, and he won't be able to take it away now.
“...Instead of—” he pauses, forcing the stutters back and behind his teeth, seething at the obvious awkwardness of his voice, “instead of debunking these claims, why not...”
“...why not accept them?” He mutters. Damn it! Why not accept them? No! It's ‘why not give the audience what they want?’
“Oh, don't worry, Rine. I've gotcha there, I'm fine with the rumors. They just keep asking me!” And you chuckle, letting out a few snickers and snorts beforehand. He can't back down now. He doesn't care about the rumors. Those people can gossip all they want—he just wants you to know that he likes you!
“Anyways, I've got the feel that you didn't say what you wanted to. Unless you did, but if not? Text me, 'kay? Talk to you later, Rine!”
What?
Beep.
You hung up, accepting another phone call. He doesn't know that. He's still processing— did you just hang up, or?
Oh! Aeons! A phone call!
He doesn't even try to look at the number or the contact.
“Hey, Aventurine, Topaz here, I just wanted to confirm—”
“What I wanted to say was that I'm really sure that I like you!” Aventurine rushes the words out, not registering the voice on the other line, and not realizing that this was the phone in that one big room in his department that's been bugging out and may or may not be a little too loud for anyone's liking.
“...What?”
“I said that I like you. That came out sudden, but I know you're going to Penacony tomorrow, and I know that— wait, who is this? ”
“Aventurine... This is Topaz.”
And he became the hottest news of the workplace.
“Gosh, Aventurine, I didn't know you liked Topaz!” You snorted in the phone, laughing your ass off like never before.
“I'm telling you! It was. A. Mistake! I meant to call y— I meant to call someone else!” He groans into his hands. Aventurine is on the floor against his bed, his knees on the ground, and he's screaming into the mattress.
“Sorry, what was that? Y– You meant to call me?”
“Yes! I wanted to call you and tell you that— wait, wait, hold on, I—”
“You like me back??”
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disneyprincemuke · 3 days
Text
too young to know it gets better * fem!driver
there has to be someone out there that can snap her out of it, right?
pairings: oscar piastri x fem!driver, logan sargeant x fem!driver
notes: HI AFTER THIS THERE's one left and i promise that's not AS angsty as this one and i'm thinking of adding one or two more bonus chapters?? lolsie but idk we'll see!
(series masterlist) | (📂 2025: fall from grace)
(prev)
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rockster has disconnected.
that’s the notification that had brought logan and oscar together some random afternoon. they stand in the confinements of the elevator in silence, not a single word uttered since they’d met one another in the lobby after sending a simple text out.
but they know what they’re here for.
logan hadn’t moved that fast in concern for her, dating back 3 years ago when mick had supposedly texted him about marrying his crush in vegas. he had sprinted 2 blocks from his apartment building to hers in the span of a couple of minutes.
and oscar had been running errands with lily prior to getting the notification. when she’d noticed her boyfriend staring down at his phone with distress all over his face, she’d immediately pushed him towards the exits to attend to the girl. she’s also a close friend, so she notices.
if you asked oscar, he’s been worried for months. but with her tendency to keep rejecting his initiation for small talk, it’s difficult to try and find the words to try and pry a confession out of her. but this disconnection from an application they’ve had for years raises red flags that they didn’t even know were possible.
“we’re not overreacting, right?” oscar mutters as they step out of the elevator at her floor.
logan nods, lips pressed into a thin line as he counts the steps he takes down the familiar hallway. “she dropped kidnapper off at my apartment like a week and a half ago. i haven’t heard from her since.”
oscar turns to him. “you’ve heard from her?”
“barely,” logan grimaces with a shake of his head, eyes trained on the hallway. “i invited her in for snacks but she declined and left immediately.”
“i haven’t seen or heard from her since the summer break began.”
“she hasn’t been picking up my calls either.” he turns to oscar. “that’s weird, right?”
logan almost wants to laugh at their conversation. if he didn’t consider that their best friend was the person at stake, he would have laughed the loudest he’s ever. they simply sounded like they were answering one another for copium in hopes that their best friend hasn’t lost her mind just yet.
when he unlocks the door to her apartment, they’re taken aback by the sight they’re immediately greeted with. and for logan, it’s whiplash — he’s only ever had fond memories of this apartment. to find it absolutely thrashed almost breaks his heart a little bit.
in his mind, he can hear the girl always scolding him for being messy when they were living together.
the curtains, typically letting the sun seep into the room, are drawn in to block the light out. the floor is littered with her things and there’s a chair toppled over on the ground. a picture frame on the entertainment system beneath the tv is faced down against the counter and if logan can recall perfectly, it’s their picture from when they were kids.
“what happened in here?” oscar mutters, stepping around the items of stray pieces of clothing on the ground. “should we call someone? do you think someone broke into her apartment?”
“let me call her and see if she’s alright,” logan sighs, fishing for his phone in his back pocket.
he hadn’t expected the situation to be so concerning. have they really let her run rampant on her own all this time?
he dials her number, just about to press the call button when a lock clicks and a door opens.
the girl, albeit slightly unrecognisable at first, steps out of her bedroom. she’s still in her pyjamas, cheeks wet and eyes puffy with her hair in a messy ponytail talling apart on her shoulder.
“who- rocky?”
she flinches back at the voice, catching her off-guard. she sighs tiredly as she pushes her hair out of her face, wiping her cheeks dry on the sleeve of her pyjamas. “what are you guys doing here”
“what are we- when did you get back?” logan tilts his head in confusion. he gestures towards the mess around them, “and what happened? have you been crying?”
she sighs again, eyes fluttering as she turns to look away from them. “you guys should really go. it’s not a good time right now,” she says softly, gesturing them towards the front door of her apartment.
“we can stay and help you clean everything up,” oscar mutters, mirror logan’s stare at the ground, “we’re just curious. you don’t typically let your apartment get this messy.”
“mate,” another sigh comes with her pinching the bridge of her nose, “it’s really not a good time right now.”
oscar’s head snaps up. “are you avoiding us?”
she stares at him tiredly. “what? no, it’s just-”
“you are, aren’t you?” oscar cuts her off, feeling an overwhelming wave of frustration takes over him. months of what feels like a one-sided friendship finally catches up to him.
every single rejection of plans reminds him how neglected their friendship has been, every time she’s ‘forgotten’ to look for an ice cream parlour makes his blood boil. it is such a one-sided friendship as of late and it feels like she’s no longer honouring the years of friendship they have.
“but why? did we do something? did we say something to upset you?”
she slouches her shoulders. she takes a deep breath to recompose herself. “please just go,” she croaks out, feeling a knot in her throat at the realisation of where this entire conversation might be heading. “not now.”
“but what is it? is it us?” oscar frowns. “at least tell us before you start ignoring us.”
she clenches her jaw as her patience runs thin. and she tries to hold on to the last string of patience she has. all these past months, she’s tried her damnest not to be this way to anyone that’s involved in racing.
just to save some face, to show that she’s not completely lost her mind. apart from the fact that they’re all practically colleagues, they’re also her friends.
but as oscar continues to edge her on for an explanation for her behaviour, it’s increasingly getting more difficult to keep her outbust at bay.
“rocky,” oscar calls out to grab her attention. “what is it? i’m so tired of you beating around the bush; if we did something to upset you, speak up. it’s not fair — what you’re doing. you’re cancelling plans, you’re bailing, you’re leaving us hanging… we’ve known each other half of our lives. you can’t just do this.”
logan shifts uncomfortable where he stands. “do you hate us?”
she tries to stop herself, really. but she should be allowed one outburst in her life.
“yes, yes, i actually do!” she admits, venom lacing her words as she starts to explain herself. “it sucks. i’m so fucking jealous of all of you right now. i’ve tried to feel happy for you guys but honestly?” a dry laugh passes her lips, tears falling out of her eyes. “i resent all of the success you’ve found this year.
because you’re doing great and i’m not. it’s annoying because i should be doing great too. because between every single one of us, no one’s worked as hard as i have to get to where i am today. you’re my best friends but i can’t get myself to be happy for you and i hate myself even more for it.”
oscar blinks blankly at her. her chest heaves as she finishes speaking, fists clenched by her side as she starts to cry a little harder.
she’s swallowed down every single drop of resentment she feels towards her friends, all doing well while she’d sunk deeper into the trenches of her own demise.
speaking ill of them that one time they achieved a podium without her haunted her for weeks on end. she couldn’t get herself to speak to them like she hadn’t spent 20 minutes speaking behind their backs about how much she hates that they’re on podiums without her.
“it was easier to avoid you than say things i can’t say.”
it was truly one of the last times she spend with them; the guilt of speaking on them ate her up. she’s apologise out of the blue and they’d have no idea what she was talking about.
admitting it now feels like their friendship would truly never be the same. like this is the one fight that’s been waiting to happen after their years of friendship and would lead to her eventual loneliness.
but she doesn’t expect oscar to start laughing. “are you fucking stupid?”
“excuse me, what?” she scoffs, throwing her head back slightly.
logan sighs next to socar. “come on, don’t be like that. she’s clearly having a hard time right now,” he mutters, putting a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.
oscar turns to logan, pointing a hand over to where the girl stand by her bedroom door. “really, logan? you don’t think she’s being so mind-numbingly stupid right now?” he glances at her then immediately looks away. “she’s so insensitive right now. the last thing she should have done is isolate herself but she’s gone ahead and done exactly that.”
oscar huffs and turns back to her with a frown. “you would think that she would fall back on the people who understand her the most. and you still don’t believe she’s being stupid?”
logan sighs again. “oscar.”
“you don’t fucking get it!” she screams.
“we’re the ones who don’t get it? out of everyone you know, we’re the 2 people who understand the most!”
he has a point, she starts to think. but it’s not the same — they’re not the same. their predicaments are different.
they never had to go through and be on the receiving end of words that tried to tear her down as she grew up.
“no, you don’t!” she says with slight amusement. “you’re oscar piastri. everyone’s kissed the ground you’ve walked on; you came into the sport and everyone’s been acting like you’re a prodigy changing the course of the sport. you don’t know what it’s like to be this way!”
“and you thought that pushing away every single person who wants to help you is the solution to your problems?” oscar snorts. then it hits him. “is that why i haven’t seen matt around lately? you drove him away? finally cracked, didn’t he?”
“you don’t know the half of it,” she scoffs. there’s no need for oscar to remind her of the cardinal sin she’d acted upon to drive matt away.
she lives with the repercussions of it every single day: coming back to an empty apartment. just an apartment, a shell of what used to feel like home.
“all of this over a bad couple races?” oscar rolls his eyes and another mean scoff passes his lips. he was unaware how bad it had gotten for her. “how immature. there’s more to fucking life than your position in f1.”
she sucks in a deep breath. “you’ll never understand.”
“oh, i do,” oscar points out with a small grin. “i grew up with you, rocky, i know how you operate. you break down the minute you’re not the best at something. you get scared and hide away when you don’t feel like you’re on the top of your game.”
“what do you know about what i feel?” she tilts her head with a small smile. “that’s so fucking pretentious of you to say so, oscar.”
“you’ve already made it to the top.” he picks his feet up and starts to walk over to her, shoving away logan’s hand that tries to stop him from threading any further. “it’s unnecessary that you’re still this hard on yourself. you’ve proved everyone wrong by making it this far. there are people on your side,” he jabs a finger into her shoulder and she stumbles back, “there are people who miss you- we miss you!
“do you even realise how lucky you have it right now? you’ve got sebastian helping to push your narrative because he believes in you. do you think everyone’s got that luxury?” he points back at logan. “do you think he had that luxury fight for his life in this sport? did that even cross your mind or are you just so far into your head?”
“oscar,” logan repeats. oscar glances back at logan who has his lips pressed into a thin line, unamused by the scenario he’s choosing to bring up. “don’t even go there.”
but oscar ignores him. oscar turns back to the younger girl and grabs her shoulders, squeezing them firmly as he draws a soft sob from her.
“i thought that because you weren’t entirely alone, it was okay that we take a step back and stopped meddling with your life. i thought you were going to be fine; i thought you knew ho to handle yourself and continue to keep your feet on the ground.”
she shakes her head, bottom lip pouted out. “you don’t-”
“i don’t understand?” oscar scoffs. “how far into your head have you gone to push yourself into a corner? do you realise that you’re in the trenches because you put yourself in there? have you looked in the mirror and actually,” oscar shakes her, “looked at yourself?”
and it seems that something finally clicked in her head. she stares blankly up at him, tears finally running down her cheeks. her chest heaves with constant sobs as she no longer can find the words in her head to prove her point.
“okay, that’s enough,” logan mutters, yanking oscar away from the girl. he shoves the younger boy towards the kitchen. “go and get some air and drink some water — you’re scaring her.”
oscar sniffles, wiping his eyes and stumbles towards the kitchen. he spares her one last glare before turning his back on her. “whatever.”
logan can only sigh when he looks down her head. she’s got her head in her hands as she sobs. she lifts her eyes to look up at him and scoffs. “what? do you have something to say to me? about how deranged i’ve gotten?”
“i don’t know what got into you to think we wouldn’t understand how you were feeling,” he says softly, tears flooding his eyes.
it’s difficult to watch someone you think is so strong be half the person you watched her grow into. he pulls her into his arms, squeezing her into a tight hug and rests his chin on her head.
“i’m sorry,” she cries in staggered breaths into his chest. “i’m sorry. i didn’t know. i didn’t-”
“it’s okay,” he mutters, squeezing her tighter. “we’re here.” he pulls away slightly and cups her cheeks, wiping her tears away with a small grin. “we’ve got you, okay? we’re here now.”
she nods through her tears, “okay.”
“we’ve got you, i promise,” logan hums, pulling her in again. he sways gently as he feels her sobs slowly dying out. “you’ll be okay.”
logan turns around at the sound of things shuffling about. oscar has a trash bag in his hand, picking up empty bottles on the ground and throwing them into the bag silently. she pulls her head back and watches oscar slowly navigate her littered apartment.
sensing their stares, oscar glances over his shoulder. “are you going to help me or are you just going to let me do this by myself?”
she glances up at logan with eyebrows raised and in return, he shrugs with a small smile.
for the next 2 hours, they clean up her apartment in silence. no music, not an utter of another word, just a heavy silence pushing down on their shoulders as they shift about her apartment like a well-oiled machine.
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oscar throws his dirty piece of tissue into the bin right by the coffee table and sighs, leaning back into the couch he’s sat on. he’s in a single seater while logan and her share the bigger couch.
her apartment finally looks the way they all remember it. pristine with all her things neatly slotted into their respective slots.
oscar hasn’t spoken to her much since he’d gotten the bright idea to start helping her clean the apartment for her. he’d briefly asked her if she wanted pizza for dinner, to which she simply shrugged and said okay, then asked which toppings she wanted. then they returned to their silence.
he picks up her can of pepsi, popping it open before extending his hand over to her. she turns stiffly and looks at his offer with a blank stare. “oh, thank you.”
she takes it into her hands and glances over at oscar who turns away from her immediately to grab logan’s drink next. “i’m sorry,” she says first, just barely above a whisper. her head is dropped slightly, eyes trained on the slicer of pizza in her hands.
truthfully, she’s not very sure how to apologise for her behaviour. while she’s broken down over things said about her and her progress is a sport that barely had a spot for her, it’s never gotten this bad.
she hadn’t even realised that they still cared with their own lives now.
“no, i’m sorry,” logan says immediately, turning his head to her. “that we didn’t foster an environment where you felt like you could come to use and be honest about how you’re really feeling. you did it for me all the time when we first started out and i’m sorry i couldn’t do the same for you.”
“it’s not even your fault,” she sighs shakily. “i pushed away everyone who tried to extend their hands out to me to help. oscar’s right.”
oscar sighs audibly, sinking into his seat. he turns his head to look at her and purses is lips. “i’m sorry i called you stupid,” oscar says, “we grew up together… i just thought that if you didn’t feel right, we’d still be the people you know you don’t have to put up a facade with. be brutally, disgustingly and painfully honest with.”
“i really didn’t wanna worry anybody,” she frowns. “you have your own lives now, you know? i thought i could handle it on my own.”
“don’t even say that,” oscar turns to her with furrowed eyebrows, “you’re practically my little sister — i’ve driven you to the hospital after you writhed in pain from dislocating your shoulder playing volleyball. i’ve beaten up guys from school for you so of course you’ll always have a place in our lives.”
“i didn’t want you to know that i was a sore loser,” she shrugs with a small grin. she gestures towards logan. “he took our first 2 years in the sport so gracefully. it was embarrassing that i couldn’t do the same when it was my turn.”
“what?” logan scoffs. “you seriously think i wasn’t jealous seeing you guys being glorified by everyone? i felt like shit watching you guys get accepted in the sport with open arms and make new friends without me.”
he gives her a knowing stare when she turns her head to look at him. “i lvoe you, but i seriously despised you so much for being better than me at everything. i felt like the smallest man who’s ever lived when i was next to you. and dude… we were always together.”
she chews on the inside of her cheek. “i didn’t know that… i’m sorry…”
“but at the end of the day, you were always there for me,” logan frowns, poking her arm gently. “i’m sorry i couldn’t give you the same level of comfort to not spiral this bad. the only reason i hadn’t was because you were there for me all the time.”
“well i’m sorry that i was so mean to you,” oscar sighs. “but you know you needed it, right?”
“i know,” she shrugs, “thanks.”
“i don’t wanna be the one to bring it up, though,” logan hums as he reaches forward for another slice, “but what happened with matt?”
she chuckles with a soft snort. she lifts her head and puffs her cheeks out. “i wasn’t very nice to him when everything was falling apart,” tears flood her eyes, “he called for a break. but honestly, i think he wants to break up with me.”
logan raises an eyebrow. “he asked for a break, didn’t he? that’s not a breakup, mate.”
“you weren’t there. i wouldn’t want to be with me either if i had to endure what he went through with me,” she admits with a sigh. she wipes her tears away from her eyes and smiles slightly. “i think he’s just trying to soften the blow.”
oscar laughs. he laughs the loudest and heartiest he’s ever since he’d bolted from lily while they were running errands together. “do you seriously think that?”
she blinks at oscar. “i thought we were done being mean to me, mate.”
“we are!” oscar beams, forcing himself to falter with his laughter. “i’m sorry, i’m not trying to make you feel worse. but do you seriously think that matt — the guy who’s in your garage every single weekend, literally comes into the paddocks with ice cream for your entire team, texts logan and i to ask about things to surprise you with — wants to seriously break up with you?”
“well, you weren’t there,” she explains with a frown. “well, you were, once when i was crying in the paddocks. but i was so mean to him.”
“but a break isn’t a breakup,” oscar explains as he points at her knowingly. “you were arguably at your worst, i doubt that he wants to leave you when your mental was that bad. it happens, you know?”
“if he didn’t want to be with you, he would have broken up with you instead of asking for a break,” logan sighs, patting her on the shoulder. “just approach him.”
“i don’t know how to,” she admits, sliding down the couch to lie down slightly. “there’s no gesture big enough to makeup for the things i said… the way i treated him…”
“say you’re sorry,” oscar says with a small grin and a nod. “start there and i’m sure you guys can work it out from there, you know?”
“i’ll try.”
“okay, enough with this,” logan throws his head back with a grunt. “let’s go karting!” he stands up and smiles at her widely. “you sound like you need your edge back. i’ll even let you win this time.”
she scoffs, “as if i’d ever lose to you in equal machinery!”
“aw, she’s back! she’s fighting back now!” oscar cheers, hopping up as he claps his hands. “come on! then let’s get ice cream where we always get it! i haven’t been there in forever.”
“okay, okay!” she laughs, watching the 2 of them jump to their feet and start to clear out her table. she feels a warmth in her chest watching them in her living room. “just let me shower, okay? we kinda cleaned a lot tonight. i won’t take less than 15 minutes, i promise!”
there’s a chorus of heavy sighs and arms thrown in the air. “we might as well cancel karting.”
“but you take forever to get ready!” oscar jokes with a frown. “if you pass 15 minutes, you’re paying for ice cream.”
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erodasfishtacos · 1 day
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Boredom & Blind Dates [pt I]
summary: yn is a good friend, who's willing to go on a blind date so that her friend can try to pull the man of her dreams. the new bigshot doctor at the hospital she's works. the dinner isnt as charming as she hoped
word count: 5k
warnings: angst
author's note: hii! this was based off a request. the rest will be posted on patreon and there’s already another part up :)
You can subscribe for $3 USD a month here
+
Victoria was a friend that YN had made in college when they were both studying completely opposite majors but happened to be roomed in the same two-bed dorm.
They clicked instantly and just like their majors, they were also exact opposite in their personalities too but it somehow just meshed perfectly together.
Victoria was a social butterfly who did not have a fear of being the center of attention, going after whoever she wanted (and typically pulling them), and her confidence was impressive.
Despite how smart Victoria was, she had a tendency to come off a bit ditzy, and has been called an air-head more than twice in YN’s presence.
The boys in more prestigious majors like law and medicine usually didn’t find her carefree attitude as appealing.
While Tori snagged the frat boys, YN steered clear of them which worked because they had never once had a crush on the same man.
After graduation, it only made sense to move in together because Seattle was a ridiculously overpriced city but their job wages were competitive.
Victoria was a nurse, she worked on a surgery recovery wing, and complained about her job constantly because of the crabby patients and long hours.
YN worked behind a desk all day, very rarely having to interact with anyone but if she did - it was all virtual from home.
She was the head accountant for a social media marketing company which was a pretty high position for the few years of experience she had.
YN had always been serious, more mature for her age, and always excelled above everyone else in her grade.
It hadn’t been a surprise when she was valedictorian or made summa cum laude in her undergraduate and masters degree with ease.
YN didn’t party, didn’t love socializing out in clubs but would go when Victoria pressured her enough to do so, and it was fine.
YN had been so involved in establishing her career, creating a successful life, and making a name for herself that she didn’t have time for the things Victoria did.
Dating app hookups, one night stands from the bar, and casual flings that only lasted a few weeks was how Tori rolled.
Typically, at least once a month, she was bawling to YN about the latest dickhead who treated her like she was disposable but kept going for the same type.
YN had empathy to an extent, always uncorked the wine and half-listened to her rants about chivalry being dead while she was still thinking about an account she needed to work on because the deadline was coming up.
YN liked to think she lived vicariously through Victoria’s stories which worked for her because then she didn’t have to experience those things herself.
+
YN had been sitting on the couch, laptop balanced on the wide arm as she scrolled through work emails while catching up on her guilty pleasure reality show.
It was nearly ten at night but she was waiting for a reply from a customer with a time difference, work could sometimes be a whole day and night ordeal.
There was no question that YN was uptight, rarely - if ever relaxed, and did not have much time for anything other than what put a hefty sum in her bank account every two weeks.
Victoria tumbled through the front door in a way that is uniquely her - like a hurricane.
Her keys jingling, her water bottle bumping and sloshing water as she drops her purse on the floor unceremoniously with a chapstick rolling out.
She tosses all of her items in a messy pile on the ground with her bag, kicking off her tennis shoes, and nearly prances into the living room.
YN blinks over at her, the excitement of her arrival was a routine now, she no longer gets annoyed that her best friend makes an entrance like that each time.
“Babe, guess what,” Victoria squeals as she sits down right next to her on the couch, still in her magenta colored scrubs and her mascara smudged near her eyes.
“What?” YN replies as she mindlessly clicks refresh in her email, wishing for this message with the information she needs to appear.
“Our new Chief of Medicine started today! He was the head of neurology at another hospital. A literal brain surgeon which, of course I’ve met others but he’s like…the best of the best. They write news articles about him, his studies in medical journals, he’s a big deal,” Victoria is still excited as she nearly bounces in her spot, shaking YN’s laptop.
YN puts a hand up to make sure her computer doesn’t topple, still nonplussed as she looks at her friend, “What does this have to do with you? Is it just because he’s famous in the medical world?”
“No, he’s fucking gorgeous too. I didn’t think you were allowed to be as smart as he is while looking like he just walked off a runway during Paris Fashion Week,” Tori giggles as her cheeks go a bit pink, “He’s the hottest doctor I’ve ever seen.”
“Tori,” YN sighs, clicking her refresh again - nothing, “Again, what is this information leading to?”
“Well I bumped into him today, literally, in the hallway. We spoke briefly, he was polite but serious, and I felt like he was flirting with me. I feel like I have a chance with him,” Her roommate tells her, that same confidence present as ever that she can pull this big shot doctor.
“Good luck with that. I’m sure he’s married with kids,” YN replies somewhat dismissively, unamused that this is how her friend spends her time.
“Nope,” Tori quips back happily, “I googled him. He just made the New York Times list as one of the most eligible bachelors in medicine. Single as they come.”
“I thought you didn’t want to date someone who also worked in medicine,” YN reminds her, clicking refresh once again to no results.
“He’s the exception. If I could settle down with a fuckin neurosurgeon, chief medical officer like come on that would be my biggest achievement,” Victoria pulls out her cell phone, tapping across the screen.
And YN just…cannot relate.
YN only fell in love once.
Where she could fantasize about a life with that person, marriage, kids, a house but it was all fantasy as they were never official in that way.
It was crushed and YN made a promise to herself that she wouldn’t let herself dream like that again.
“Do you want to see a picture?” Victoria asks as she looks for an image to show.
As a stroke of luck, YN’s work phone starts buzzing, and it’s the client she was waiting for to email her, “I’m sure he’s as attractive as you say, Tor. I have to take this.”
Her friend mumbles something about her being in a relationship with work which is honestly not that far off at this point.
However, it gives her an excuse to lock herself in her office for a few hours to avoid the ideas of love, Victoria’s fantasy world, and think about nothing but numbers and percentages.
+
The next few weeks blend together for YN.
Every few days she actually catches up on her work.
Every few days Victoria recounts her very purposefully crafted run-ins with the chief medical officer to shoot her shot.
Victoria has always been forward, asking bluntly for what she wants but with such a seemingly intimidating man, she finally has met her match.
Her roommate deems the doctor as ‘playing hard to get’ but YN starts to wonder if she’s imagining the spark between them or if it’s truly there.
She talks about times where the doctor flat out ignores her in the hallway but brushes it off that he was extremely busy on a pressing issue.
But then there are times where he will pull her aside, gently by the wrist and ask her about how her day was going, and appear to be interested in her answers.
YN loved her friend but was wildly uninterested in these events, the only thing that kept her curiosity lingering was if she was actually going to snag the head of the biggest hospital in Seattle.
She doesn’t hear much for a week or two.
At least three months have passed since the doctor started.
And this finally appears to be a payoff when Victoria comes home with her usual hurricane routine of leaving a trail of her belongings as she comes through the front door.
“Oh my god, oh my god. Close your laptop and look at me!” Victoria announces dramatically as she rushes over to the couch, taking it upon herself to close the lid of YN’s work computer.
“Tori,” YN scolds with a grumble, she really didn’t appreciate it when her friend interrupted her work flow in the middle of her meticulously constructing a report.
“Hush,” She replies, brushing off her concerns, and patting YN’s thighs, “I need the absolute biggest, most massive favor from you ever. And I really need you to agree, I’ll owe you for eternity.”
This didn’t sound good.
YN blinks at her, expression still unamused as ever.
“Okay. I am going on a date with the chief,” Victoria squeals, high-pitched and loud, “But it’s a double-date, he was telling me he’s looking for a date for his friend. I offered you and he invited us all to dinner at The National.”
Fancy.
And YN tries to settle the itching annoyance at her friend offering her up without her approval but unfortunately it was a very Victoria-like thing to do.
Despite how uptight YN could be, she had a soft spot for her friend and would do anything within her to make her happy so instead of lecturing her about setting her up, YN agrees.
YN thinks about it as the days pass until the date, what’s stopping her from actually giving this a try?
The only information she received about her blind date was that he was also a doctor, orthopedics, and his name was Mitch.
YN dresses nicer than she had originally planned, in a form fitting black dress that shaped her chest phenomenally, making her smaller tits look full and lifted.
It also defined her backside well too, making it rounded and voluminous in a way that it normally didn’t look in her regular outfits.
YN hadn’t been with anyone in over a year, not even a casual hookup because she didn’t do those - she did commitment.
Maybe Mitch would be the one.
YN wasn’t one for magical thinking like her best friend but maybe this is what optimism was supposed to be like as opposed to her normal pessimist outlook.
Victoria dressed stunning as well, albeit a bit more revealing which was her go to, cut-outs along her ribs and the hem was nearly to her bum cheeks so she couldn’t bend over without revealing all of her bits and pieces.
YN was sure that the doctor she was pining after would take her home with her that night but she also knows Victoria is possibly looking at this to become serious.
It was all up in the air.
The National was a quiet restaurant, where business meetings were held and deals were made.
Everyone dressed in expensive outfits that made YN and Victoria’s seem a bit out of place but they blended in well enough.
Neither have been to the location before because it was reservation-only and you had to have enough of a name in Seattle to bother calling.
The fact that the chief was able to get them a table, at relatively short notice was flex in itself, showing off what clout he held in the community.
YN wasn’t impressed, per se, felt like it was a bit-show off but nevertheless it was a nice experience that she’d never likely have again after this night.
Victoria gives the hostess their name before they’re being guided towards the back of the restaurant, it lit dimly enough that it would be hard to see the menu.
As they arrive at the table, there’s two meticulous dressed men sit across from one another, both handsome in different ways.
However, one has a big smile and stands up whilst the other stays seated with a scowl that seems permanently etched on his face - light wrinkles to show for it.
The man who stands up reaches for YN’s hand, kissing the back of it, and introducing himself, “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’ve been looking forward to it all week, darling. I’m Mitch.”
“YN,” She replies even though he already knows, allowing the kiss and giving him a polite smile back as he pulls out her chair for her.
Victoria walks around the table, somewhat awkward as her date doesn’t get up or offer to move her chair out, only a curt, “Hello, Victoria. You look nice.”
“Thanks,” Tori blushes easily, YN has to refrain from rolling her eyes at the interaction, she always fell for the rudest, douchey men on Earth.
This doctor was no different as he says back in his chair, shoulders broad, and back straight, head held high as he watches Mitch help YN in her seat.
“Thank you,” YN brushes her fingers against Mitch’s shoulder as he sits down, making eye contact with her date once again.
He had these sincere brown eyes, a shy smile, and his long hair was pulled back into a ponytail as he nods at her.
Mitch wasn’t her type, though she wasn’t picky, and was willing to give anyone a chance - he just wouldn’t be someone she would pick herself.
Maybe that’s a good thing.
“What’s good here?” YN asks Mitch as she opens her menu, it was a small list of entrees, most that YN had only seen on cooking shows or never even heard of.
“I haven’t been here. Styles here is a regular but that’s because he’s the big name ‘round here, well according to London Times - everywhere,” Mitch teases as he glances up at his friend.
Styles doesn’t even lift his lip in a half-smile, his eyes dart to YN before his friend, “The Steelhead Trout is good as is the Filet Migon.”
YN’s eyes trace back over the menu, heart seizing a bit as the numbers next to the entree - realizing that was the price was a bit of shell shock.
She knew that Mitch would pay for her but she felt guilty about ordering something that was well over a hundred and fifty dollars when she would never pay that for dinner herself.
“I think I’ll just get the thai salmon,” YN replies as she glances over, it was the cheapest option, not by much but still.
“There’s peanuts in the sauce,” The doctor tells her as he glances up from his own menu to look at YN.
YN brow furrows at him, lips turning down, and about to say something when he adds, “Victoria informed me that you have a severe peanut allergy and to choose a restaurant that could prepare your food properly.”
YN blinks to process before looking over to Victoria, “Thanks, Tor.”
“I’d rather not see freshman year thanksgiving happen again,” Victoria jokes but there is some real concern there from such a traumatic incident.
YN had accidentally come into contact with some type of nut that sent her into an anaphylactic shock.
They couldn’t find her epipen for a good two minutes until they did and were able to administer her medication until she could make it to the hospital.
Victoria had anxiety about food in their house for ages, paranoid about her own contact with the allergen, and always made sure everyone was aware of YN’s condition.
“I’ll get the filet then,” YN sighs, giving up on picking a cheap option as she closes her menu, and the waiter pours a red wine into her glass.
YN was not in the mood to drink, preferring to sip on her water instead as Victoria and Mitch emptied their first glass quickly.
Victoria’s date sipped more sophisticatedly on his, swirling it like a proper snob before taking a minuscule sip as if he was savoring it.
Mitch seemed very interested in YN, asking multiple questions about her work and personal life, he put an arm around the back of her chair which YN didn’t necessarily mind as they spoke.
From what YN could see, Victoria was not having as much luck with her date as their conversation appeared strained, her friend was doing ninety percent of the talking, and Harry was nodding with an expression of boredom.
After the soup and salads arrive, Mitch and Harry start to chat about something going on with the hospital protocols.
Victoria tries to add in, he doesn’t acknowledge her but Mitch does instead after an uncomfortable pause of silence between them.
YN stays quiet, unable to add anything, and after a moment, Mitch huffs out a laugh, “Enough work talk, we’re excluding YN.”
Harry raises his eyebrow at her, “Need to be the center of attention?”
“Hey,” Mitch frowns, rubbing at YN’s shoulder, “I didn’t mean for it to sound like that. I’m sorry if I just-“
“You’re fine,” YN waves her hand dismissively, giving her friend’s date a displeased glance that Harry returns the scowl just like he’d been doing all night.
Victoria is oblivious, as she tends to be, and is much too focused on keeping her date’s attention to worry about anything else.
“What do you do for work?” Harry asks her, randomly cutting off a story that Victoria was telling about a patient that eloped recently.
“I’m a head accountant for a social media marketing company. What about you?” YN returns the question with sickeningly sweet politeness.
She felt like Harry was a pompous prick, taking pride in his rankings, education, and had a better than attitude that YN really felt was unappealing.
To act like she didn’t know shit about him was the perfect way to irritate him apparently.
It works.
The way his teeth clench together as the wrinkle between his brow deepens further, he straightens his suit jacket before leaning forward to appear casual.
“I’m the Chief Medical Officer of The Hospital of Seattle, a neurosurgeon specializing in spinal cord injury as well as stroke and trauma, I own three outpatient medical practices, as well as instruct other neurosurgeons on new techniques and equipment,” Harry boasts, to be fair, it was extremely impressive.
There was no doubt that the man sitting across from her was extremely intelligent, she’s probably never been around anyone as smart as him but it didn’t excuse his attitude.
You can be intelligent and humble at the same time.
Apparently Doctor Styles did not get the memo.
“That’s nice,” YN replies as she takes a very small sip of wine, even though she was impressed, it didn’t reflect in her bored tone.
Harry scoffs, sitting back, and licking the front of his teeth.
His eyebrow was raised as he repeated in disbelief, “That’s nice? Nothing else, huh?”
Victoria’s eyes dart nervously between the two, she grips Harry’s bicep, “I think it’s the most impressive thing I’ve heard. Not to mention the medical journals you wrote for or the volunteer work.”
YN tucks her bottom lip between her teeth, tampering down a smile at getting a reaction out of her friend’s date, just as she had hoped.
“S’really not as impressive when the person needs to flaunt their accomplishments so extravagantly,” YN shrugs as she puts down her wine glass, nonchalant as ever, and acting as if she was being casual.
Tori delivers a kick to her shin underneath the table, along with a scolding look for her to drop the attitude with Harry because it was ruining their date.
YN pulls back because she did feel guilty at getting into it with this doctor who Tori was trying to pull and she wasn’t increasing the chances with the snide comments.
Harry is about to respond, his ringed fingers clenched on the table, and there were tattoos peeking out from the cuffs of his suit that were very undoctorlike, “You know what I think-?”
“Uhm,” Mitch coughs awkwardly to break up the tension that was getting thick and cloying between everyone at the table, “Victoria, where did you get your nursing degree from?”
The conversation breaks off, Victoria and Mitch start chatting as YN and Harry remain pretty much silent throughout the appetizers.
Victoria is forward, trying to touch her date when possible.
A brush of his hand here, a squeeze of his bulky bicep there.
Though Harry doesn’t shrug her off, he also doesn’t return the favor at all.
He is nearly statuesque, unmoving, and able to sit very still for long amounts of time.
Of course, maybe that is overly obvious because of how all over the place her friend was at all times, unable to sit still for more than a few minutes without needing to adjust the way she’s sitting or fiddle with something on the table.
YN wonders if this whole thing was set up for Mitch and Harry just settled for being on a date with Victoria to help his friend out.
The thought hurt her to think about because she wanted better for her friend.
YN enjoyed having a job that paid her well, more than most people her age were making but it didn’t define who she was.
Doctor Styles seemed to be his entire job as his personality.
How boring.
When Harry manages to get the topic back onto a work issue, YN cannot help but let out a yawn that she very half-heartedly tries to cover with her hand because she could only hear so much about a spinal surgery before she’s zoning out.
Victoria is hanging onto his every word, asking questions, and being overly interested in a lackluster story in his monotone, deep voice that could honestly lull her to sleep because of how bleak and morbid he sounded.
However, when she yawns, no one at the table notices but Harry.
His eyes have darted over to her a few times while he’s been talking, almost to gauge her level of interest, and when she yawns, he visibly huffs before continuing - his words a bit more harsh and a flutter of annoyance twisting into his cadence.
YN had neglected her date during this whole time, in full honesty.
Victoria and Mitch seemed to have a great conversation.
When YN talked to Mitch, he was nice enough and easy to have a conversation with but his boss across the table was distracting and apparently felt the need to constantly be the center of attention even though that’s what he called YN out for. 
It’s rude, YN knows it is when she excuses herself to the bathroom mid-story, placing her napkin on the table before swinging her purse over her shoulder, and navigating into the dimly-lit restaurant towards the back.
YN goes into one of the many stalls, a larger bathroom, and sits down.
She didn’t have to go to the bathroom but she had just needed a break because…
What the fuck.
What the actual fuck?
YN would be crawling out the bathroom window if Victoria wasn’t with her.
YN hears the door open and she just knows it’s Victoria.
She is definitely going to give YN a piece of her mind for her attitude at the table and she really can’t blame her because she was not being on her best behavior admittedly.
When YN pushes open the stall, already starting her speech, “Tor, I know you’re probably pissed but -”
However, YN stops mid-setence when she sees that it was not Victoria standing across from her.
No, instead it was Harry, leaning back against the sinks with his arms crossed and a scowl worse than anything that he had displayed at the table across his face.
“Already dating again?” He asks unhappily, the slight crack of his deep drawl gives away the jealously laying behind those words, “That’s pretty fuckin’ rich, innit?”
“Don’t you dare,” YN hisses back, defensive and straightening up, “You don’t have any room to talk.”
“I have plenty,” Harry grits out, his gaze unwavering, his hand twitching like he wants to reach out, “You fucked everything up, not me.”
The awful thing is that YN wants him too.
“That’s not true,” YN murmurs softer, trying to keep the feisty edge in her voice but struggling.
The emotions that she was attempting to hold in at the table were much harder to bottle up when they were standing face-to-face like this.
“You like Mitch?” Harry ignores her rebuttal, his knuckles were white where they were gripping the kitchen sink, “Think he’s nice? Boyfriend material?”
“It’s none of your fucking business,” YN snaps back, finding her bravado a bit more.
“Come here,” Harry orders, voice quiet but sharp, demanding, and it sends a chill down her spine.
“Harry-” YN begins to argue but finds herself walking forward, her heart pounding hard enough that it hurts and her hands were shaking as she clung the strap of her purse as a lifeline as her heels clicked against the tile.
“C’mon, dove,” His voice is sweeter, more goading until she’s close enough to touch.
Her lips parted in nerves, excitement, dread.
His hand reaches out to curl around the nape of her neck, fingers lightly pressing into the sides of her throat and though it was gentle, it was possessive - rooted in the jealousy of what was going on tonight with their dates.
Harry brings her towards him by the hold he has on her, until her hands are laid on his chest, and he’s leaning down as he tilts her head up.
He brushes their lips together, once, twice, and on the third time, YN pulls back and takes a few steps away from him.
“You can’t just do that,” YN huffs, grabbing a tissue from the counter and dabbing at the corners of her eyes to prevent the tears from falling and ruining her makeup, “I’m on a date. You’re on a date. It isn’t fair to either of them.”
Harry laughs unhappily, shaking his head as pushes away from the sink, heading towards the door but before he leaves, he bites back, “I don’t think you have room to be talking about fair. You obviously don’t fuckin’ understand the concept of it. Pull yourself together before you come back out.”
YN knows it immature, proves his point but gives him the middle finger before going back to dabbing at her eyes - fuck, she wishes she didn’t cry around him.
She wondered if it was worth sneaking out the window and facing the wrath of her friend later.
+
ahhhhhhh.
let me know your thoughts. this was difficult to write but im glad it turned out how i wanted it too! what do you predict?
😙😙😙
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jazzyoranges · 11 hours
Text
Late nights - drabble
Tara Carpenter x fem!reader
Summary: sorry anon, i accidentally deleted the request 😓 but they asked for me to write a fic with tara in fem!reader’s hoodie (aka cuddly tara strikes again)
Words: 0.9k
A/n: hopefully a lil something to get me out of my writing slump. let’s hope this isn’t too bad considering i haven’t written in a few months 😅
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You really didn’t mean to be out for so long
First your boss asks you to do one favor, then another, and next thing you know you’re at work for 4 hours more than you’re supposed to be. The asshole didn’t even pay you for all the extra shit you did! You made a mental note to go job hunting this week.
Maybe the gay club was looking for a stripper? Nah. Your girlfriend would get jealous
So you were angry. Angry about your paycheck
Next a few storm clouds roll up that night. Of course you forget to bring your rain jacket that day. Not to mention, rain feels like hail stones when you’re on your motorcycle. Apparently it’d be a cold day in hell before you dressed right for the weather
So along with being angry, you were cold and wet. Shitty might’ve been the lightest way you could’ve described your day
At least you could come home to your wonderful girlfriend in an apartment of your own. It took lots of convincing and hundreds of game nights to convince Sam to even accept the idea of you and Tara being alone together. Fortunately you were blessed with patience and homosexuality — two things that could withstand Sam’s will to protect her sister
Was the older Carpenter’s place on the floor right above you and Tara’s?
Yes. Yes it was.
But if it made your girlfriend and her sister happy, you had no reason to not be as well. Other than the elevator that never fucking worked but that was out of their hands
Your shirt and hair were absolutely soaked in rainwater by the time you reached your apartment door. The was a small trail of water behind you from where you walked but that might’ve been the least of your concerns. Fishing around in your damp pants for your keys, you fortunately find them without much effort
Opening the door with as little energy you can, you lock the door behind you and triple check you locked it just like Sam told you
Not wasting any time you slide off your wet shirt in the middle of your living room, throwing it on a chair and missing the younger Carpenter waiting on the couch for you half asleep
“Baby?” Tara rubs her eyes. You stand in the middle of your hallway like a deer in headlights. You were awfully vulnerable while wet and almost naked. Who knew.
Before you can respond, there’s shuffling behind you then something weighted and warm on your back. Tara’s leaning into you with her arms around your torso while you’re wet and almost naked in the middle of your hallway. What a sight.
“Why were you so late? You’re working tonight…” Your girlfriend’s hand dips a bit below your waistband and you have to resist the urge to shiver. From the cold? From Tara? Only god knew
“My boss had me do extra shit. I’ll find a different job that doesn’t have me out so late” You turn around to face Tara while her arms were still around you “I promise”
The younger Carpenter only hums into your chest without any sign of moving. So you don’t. It gives you the chance to really soak in the moment along with the rainwater on your skin. You only pull away when your girlfriend also starts to shiver
Of course she’s wearing nothing but a hoodie
Specifically, Tara’s wearing nothing but your hoodie
“How long have you been fighting sleep? Go to bed, love” You pick up your girlfriend with her legs wrapped around your waist and her arms loosely thrown around your neck
“Since you decided you hated me” Tara mumbles into your shoulder
“When was that?”
“When you didn’t come home on time”
“And I gave you a reason why I was late”
“Which doesn’t excuse you, because you could’ve hurried up” Tara plays with your bra strap as you stop walking toward your shared bedroom
“What I’m hearing is, you don’t want to take a late night shower with me? Even after a long day of work, where you could help me de-stress?” You say with a certain smugness in your voice
Your girlfriend whips her head up at your offer but you’ve already made it to your shared bed, not wasting a second to plop her down
“Waitbabypleaseididn’tmeanit-“ You’re already in the bathroom as Tara’s trying to scramble to you
“What? Sorry, love! Can’t hear you over the shower”
You had a childhood cat that always followed you around when you were younger. Tara reminded you of when your cat would scratch at the door whenever you went to the bathroom. Your girlfriend even had the scratching down just like your cat
When you were about to hop in the bath for a quick shower, something stops you from getting in. The imagery alone that Tara is probably leaning against the door waiting for you to get out is enough to pull at your heartstrings
You weren’t mean. You missed Tara as much as she missed you. It’s why she always wore your hoodies and you always took her shirts that fit you
So against your better judgment and the water bill you’re going to have to take Advil for, you unlock the bathroom door but you don’t open it
You’re both in the shower and you’re in Tara less than a second later
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yauchfilms · 17 hours
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anything with logan and being back in florida ? would appreciate!!! 🫶🏻🫶🏻
sunburn ✢ logan sargeant (18+)
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pairing: logan sargeant x reader (established relationship)
warnings: smut, porn with plot (lots of exposition sorry i got carried away), one use of y/n, soft dom!logan, switchy!reader, fingering, edging, unprotected p in v, lots of pet names, begging, lots and lots of praise, body part worship if you squint, cursing, logan’s a simp, reader is implied floridian, implied childhood friends to lovers, sunburns, fluffy intimacy
summary: it’s been too long since y/n has been back in the states and she is NOT used to the florida sun like she used to be, but don’t worry, logan knows how to take care of her.
word count: 3.5k
author's note: sorry i got soooo carried away with this i don’t know what came over me. this was NOT supposed to be smut but im just a florida girl crushing on a florida boy here y’all lmao. i’m down so bad for this man that i just went kinda crazy. also this was my first time writing smut so pls bare with me. this is inspired by my friend (and fellow logan girly) who just acquired a nasty sunburn lmaoooo. enjoy!!!!
it had been quite a while since you and logan had been back home together. well, not really, but the weather was typically a lot nicer in the winter months than in the spring and summer, and you were not used to it. after you and logan moved to london together full-time, you rarely saw the sun anymore, and your matching pale complexions certainly reflected that sentiment. 
obviously, the miami race weekend was a big deal for the whole sargeant camp. aunts, uncles, cousins, childhood friends, and grandparents would be making their short trip down i-95 to see logan race, but it also meant that you and logan could spend a week together at home, in the sun, in each other’s company. a free vacation of sorts. logan’s parents were busy getting the house ready for the hordes of guests that were to soon occupy the space, so you and logan were more than happy to get out of their hair and into the back yard for some relaxation. 
it was sunday, and you found yourself lounging out on the dock, lost in a romance novel that was probably making you lose brain cells, when you heard a familiar voice calling out to you.
“y/n!”, logan yelled from where him and coco were playing on the grass. “have you been applying sunscreen?” 
you put your book down, letting out a small huff at his question. logan often took a rather paternal role over you, not in a weird or demeaning way, but rather in the sense that he always has your best interest at heart. and you loved that about him, loved how he always wanted to take care of you without being asked. 
you looked down over the chaise longue you were laid out on, thinking there was a bottle of SPF next to your drink, but all that was there was the can of sparkling water you had been nursing. 
“don’t have any; i’ll be okay!” you called back, hoping that would be the end of it.
“you want me to bring you some? it’s no problem,” logan replied, positioning himself to get up off the ground.
“don’t worry about it; i’m coming inside soon anyways!” you half-lied, knowing that logan usually respected your wishes when it came to things like that. you knew you weren’t necessarily telling him the truth, but he knew you and your stubbornness, and he knew it was not his business to try to fix it. 
another few hours had passed, and logan and the dog had long gone inside to find something else to do. you had stayed out, vowing to finish your book in one sitting. as you closed it, you stood up from the lounger, grabbing your long-abandoned can from the ground, wrapping yourself in the towel that you had been laying on, making your way back into the comfort of the house – and the air conditioning.
walking in through the kitchen, you pass logan’s mom, who was cooking dinner for the family. 
“oh sweetie, looks like you got some color on you!” she exclaims, chopping up some vegetables. 
“yeah, it’s been a minute since i’ve had time to tan! i missed the florida sunshine too much.”
“well, logan’s in his room, and dinner’s in about an hour if you’d like to freshen up,”  mrs. sargeant said sweetly, motioning towards the hallway towards logan’s room.
upon your arrival, logan moved his laptop out of his lap and onto the bed next to him. you took the towel off your shoulders, leaving you in just your bikini, when logan’s eyes went wide with shock.
“what, it’s not like you haven’t seen me in a bikini before?” you quipped, reacting to his sudden change of expression. 
“y/n, you are bright red, like ferrari red,” logan replied, serious as a heart attack. you make your way to the vanity over his dresser, taking in your current state. logan was right. you were burnt. 
“what the fuck dude, i swear i wasn’t out there that long,” you snapped, poking and prodding yourself in the mirror, letting out a wince when you stumbled over a particularly sensitive area.
logan gets off his spot on the bed, making his way towards you, joining you in front of the mirror. his hands immediately fall to your hips out of instinct, but he makes sure not to grab too tightly due to your new look.
“baby,” he says, placing his chin onto your shoulder. you let out another wince, reacting to his touch. “i told you to wear sunscreen. now look at you, my little lobster…”
“this isn’t funny,” you pout, and he leans forward to place a chaste kiss on your lips. you spin around in his arms, now facing him face-to-face rather than through the mirror. 
“stop pouting baby, and go hop in the shower, please. the sooner you get some cold water on you, the better you’ll feel. i can feel the heat radiating off you from here,” logan said with a giggle. his hands linger around your ass, and he gives a slight smack to send you on your way, which elicits a shrill yelp from you due to the sensitivity of the area. 
“are you at least going to join me?” you question as you make your way to his en suite, stopping in the door frame with your arms crossed across your chest. logan lets out another giggle.
“and listen to you whine the whole time? no thanks, plus i showered like an hour ago,” he replies, which garners a predictable whine from you.  “if you make it quick, i might have something that can help you,” he adds, and you turn on your heel into the bathroom, shutting the door with a slam. 
and he was right; the shower hurt like hell, but you know that had he been there, you wouldn’t have been able to properly soak in the cold water, so you silently curse him for being right. 
you walk back into logan’s room, wrapped in your towel, when you see him sitting on the bed, scrolling mindlessly on his phone. he hears you approach, putting his phone down and grabbing the clear bottle off the bed next to him. 
“i found you aloe; well, my mom did. she said your burn is one of the worst she’s seen,” logan said, presenting the bottle to you like it was a participation trophy. 
“is that supposed to make me feel better or worse, logie?” you questioned, feigning offence from his comment. 
“well, the comment probably won’t, but hopefully the aloe does,” he replied. “c’mere, baby,” he cooed, his arms outstretched, welcoming you into his arms. you take your spot on his lap, legs draped over his thigh, wrapping your arms around his neck to keep you in place. logan places a kiss to the bridge of your nose, and along your cheeks, leaning in to admire the newly-formed freckles that were threatening to peak out from underneath the harsh redness of your skin. 
“your freckles are back; reminds me of when we were little, trying to catch fish with my dad in the backyard. you were so bad at it; still are to be honest, but it’s okay because you still look cute trying to bait a hook,” he laughs, his breath giving a cooling sensation to your cheeks, and you wish he would keep talking just to feel his breath against your skin. 
“logan, baby, the aloe?” you suggest, knowing that the time he’s wasting is killing you. all you crave is the feeling of the lotion on you, and his hands being the ones to apply it. 
“sorry, didn’t mean to get sentimental on you, just being here with you makes me think about stuff like that. i sometimes wish we could go back…” logan trails off, and you know what he’s thinking about. he often thinks about the memories of you growing up, how much he missed you when he moved away to the uk, and what it meant to get you back. you like to think of those moments too, sometimes, but he often gets in his head about it. 
“i know,” you coo, lifting a hand up to card through the longer hair on the back of his neck, as a way to soothe him.
he lifts the bottle of aloe up towards you. 
“may i?” he asks, cocking an eyebrow up in an inquisitive way.
“of course you may. how do you want me?” you ask, a mischievous look in your eye.
“do not say it like that, you minx,” logan shot back, your innuendo catching him by surprise. 
“keep talking crazy like that, and we might have a problem,” he snapped, although with no actual malice behind it. “you can lay on your tummy first, though, and i’ll go from there, if that’s okay,” he said, his expression softening as he looked at you. 
you climb out of his lap and onto your stomach on the bed next to him, and he straddles your back to get the proper angle. 
“this okay?” he asks, tugging slightly at the towel that is still loosely wrapped around your back. 
“log, you’ve seen me naked countless times; of course it’s okay,” you quip, turning your head so he can see the side of your face. he leans down, planting a sloppy kiss to your cheek, blowing a raspberry there. this elicits a giggle from you, wriggling underneath him. 
logan drags the towel down your body slowly, his fingers barely grazing your warm, sensitive skin, standing up on his knees to pull it out from under you. 
“i know we aren’t having sex or anything, but could you at least take your shirt off or something? this feels too clinical,” you say, causing logan to burst out laughing above you.
“you are not a real person, i swear to god,” he quips, pulling his shirt over his head in one quick motion. “is that better, princess?” he says sarcastically, using the nickname he only gives you when you’re acting like a handful. 
between your fits of giggles, you let out a “mhm” that signals to logan that he is free to proceed. this evokes an eye roll from logan that you catch out of the corner of your eye. 
his attitude doesn’t last long, however, because before you can protest, his lips find your shoulder blade, peppering kisses along the top of your back, feeling his stubble graze across your skin. it burns, but feels so good at the same time.
“so sweet for me, logie,” you groan, melting into his touch. he reaches for your hair, still damp from the shower, to move it out of his way, as he makes his way across the plane of your body.  
all he can manage is a drawn out “hmmmmm” as he feels the warmth of your skin along his cheek. 
he pulls away suddenly, and you whimper at the loss of contact from him. 
“i know, i know,” he cooes, and you hear the bottle of lotion being opened just out of your periphery. 
his hands make contact with your skin again, feeling the sensation of the cool liquid as he massages it in. his strong hands make their way up and down your back, causing you to arch only slightly, if it wasn’t for him sitting squarely on your ass. 
“you’re killing me, logan,” you half-whisper, his actions genuinely taking your ability to speak at a regular volume, the intimacy of it all being just a little too much for you. 
“feels good, huh?” he asks, and although you can’t see it, you can tell that he’s cocked his eyebrow at you, and you’re surprised he’s been able to behave himself this long. 
his hands work swiftly, massaging the liquid in with long, deft fingers, the sensation driving you crazy.
“logan, i want you, please,” you whine, looking up over your shoulder to meet his gaze, your eyes softening in an almost begging manor. 
“i thought you said we weren’t–” 
“i lied. i’m a liar. i need you right now,” you beg, as logan stands back up on his knees to allow you to roll over underneath him, him now settled on your thighs.
“fuck, baby, i can’t say no to you,” he huffs, not sure exactly how to make the next move. he looks down at you splayed out in front of him, taking in the sight before him. a hand reaches down to caress down your chest, fingers grazing slightly over your nipple, causing your breath to hitch. 
“we have to make it quick, okay? can you be good for me?” he asks, his hand lingering on your left breast. 
you let out a whimper, shaking your head slightly.
“words, baby,” he sighs, his fingers massaging into the tissue of your chest. 
“yes, i’ll do whatever you want,” you whisper, unable to find your voice with how turned on you were. 
“that’s my pretty girl,” logan cooes, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips, adjusting himself so he’s slotted between your legs. the kiss deepens, his tongue finding its way into your mouth, as he swallows your muffled moans, trying to avoid the awkward conversation with his mom later. 
“gotta be quiet, baby,” he whispers, his hand running up and down your side, the warmth of his hand searing your sensitive skin.
“god, i feel like we’re in high school again,” you say, rolling your eyes at him.
“except i wasn’t nearly as good then as i am now, though,” he smirks, diving down to leave a trail of kisses from the corner of your mouth to the base of your neck, softly nibbling on your pulse point. 
“are you gonna prove it?” you ask, trying to rile him up.
this question evokes something in him, his breath against your skin coming hot and sudden, and you could feel the deep exhale from his nose.
leaning up to your ear, he whispers, “you are such a brat.”
the sensation from the whisper mixed with the sting of his words sends a shock straight to your core. he’s not always the best at dirty talk, but he still somehow knows exactly what to say and when to say it. 
“touch me, logan,” you manage to squeak out, your breath growing heavier the more you took in his words, and he was eager to oblige.
with that, the hand that found comfort on your hip trailed its way down between your bodies, grazing the softness of your stomach, fingers oh-so-gently teasing your folds. 
“so wet, huh? so worked up for me? you drive me so fucking crazy, you know that?” he growls, his voice rasping as he begins rubbing small circles against your clit with his thumb. “one or two, baby?” he asks, and you know exactly what he means. 
“two, please”, you whine into his mouth, body arching up into him before he even has the chance to touch you properly. 
“good girl, take it so well,” he groans, sliding two fingers into your cunt, almost too slowly. his voice is almost unrecognizable, the threat of being too loud taking over. his thumb continues its pattern on your clit.
you feel the tension building as he fucks his hand in and out of you, but not before you feel him slowing his pace down.
“i know you wanna come now baby, but we don’t have long. i’m gonna stop, and we can come together, okay?”, he half-whispers. 
his hand moves from its spot between your thighs back up toward your lips, as he rests his fingers on your bottom lip, cocking his eyebrow at you. 
“o-okay,” you squeak out, and with that, his fingers push past your lips, urging you to suck them clean, and you oblige, swirling your tongue around his digits, tasting yourself on his fingers. 
your hands trail down between you two, your fingers dipping underneath his shorts and boxers, toying with the waistband. 
logan removes his fingers from your mouth, opting to move back to your jawline, planting lingering kisses along the bone.
“quit teasing, baby, want you on top. let me see those pretty tits of yours, yeah?”, he smirks, knowing that him complimenting your body drives you crazy in the best way. 
you oblige with a searing kiss to his lips, opting to pull his shorts down in one motion, cock bobbing free and slapping across his stomach. he reaches down to finish taking them off, throwing them on the floor with your long-abandoned towel. 
he rolls you both over with ease, you now on top. your fingertips graze his chest, down to his abs, grabbing his cock and giving it a few quick pumps to make sure he’s ready. 
“ready, log?” you ask, your hands now on either side of his head, his blue eyes sparkling back up at you, your hips and ass now up in the air waiting for his cue. 
he leans up to chase your lips, trying to kiss you, just out of his reach. 
“please, baby, i can’t take it much more,” he begs, using his arms to pull you down to him, sinking down on him, and meeting his lips with yours. now it’s his turn to moan into your mouth. 
“fuuuuuck,” is all he’s able to get out, his hands finding their way to your hips, trying to help you relieve the lack of sensation. Your hips roll for the first time over him, and his hips immediately buck up into you.
“patience, baby. i thought i was the desperate one?” your words go right to his cock, making him buck up once again, making you speed up your motions. you feel the effects of his desperation on your body, the coil in your stomach winding tighter with every bounce on his cock.
“fuck, you’re close, baby; so am i,” logan pants, the physicality of it all catching up to him. he knows your body so well; he can always tell when you’re about to come. 
with his observation, you lean back with your hands behind you on his thighs, your hips continuing to roll against his body, eliciting a low, grumbling moan from logan. he loved you like that, all cock-drunk and lazy on top of him. it also meant that he had a perfect view of your tits, both his hands reaching to grab at them as he continued fucking up into you. 
“these are so fucking perfect. all mine. i can’t believe you’re all mine, baby,” logan pants, both of your movements becoming lazier, as he rolls your nipples in between his fingers, feeling your already-tight walls close in on his cock.
you can feel your orgasm quickly approaching with his presence on your tits, and you know that he isn’t going to last long, either. you lean forward, diminishing the space between you two, giving logan the opportunity to bear hug you. his thrusts up into you send you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you, causing you to let out a muffled moan onto his right pec. your vision goes slightly blurry for a second until you hear a grunted “fuck, baby”, followed by the feeling of logan’s hips sputtering underneath you. he comes shortly after you, spilling into you. 
You collapse onto his chest, your highs riding out together. he doesn’t loosen his grip around your back, planting a sweet kiss to the top of your forehead, pulling out as you lay pitifully on his chest.
“so good for me, baby, so sweet. fuck, i’m so lucky,” he whispers, rubbing your back where, just a few minutes earlier, he was applying aloe lotion. he rolls you both over so that you’re now facing each other on your sides. 
you reach a hand up to caress his face, feeling the stubble from a week’s worth of no races, the hair rough against your smooth palm. 
“logie, you fucked me so good i almost forgot about this damn sunburn,” you giggled, “but now we’re done and it just hurts again!”
“guess that means i’ll just have to fuck you again,” logan smirked, burying his head into the crook of your neck, eliciting more giggles from you. you begin to hook your leg over his thigh, bringing you even closer, pulling him in for a passionate kiss. you almost begin the cycle over again until you hear a knock on the door that has you both frozen in your tracks. 
“dinner!” you hear his mom cheer from the other side of the door, and then her footsteps clearly walking back down the hall towards the kitchen. 
“guess not,” you teased, eliciting an eye roll from logan, who quickly gets up to pull you into the bathroom to get cleaned up. 
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