#i just laughed out loud when i got here the last time and spotted him here standing like 🧍🧍🧍. be fr | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ackermans-posts · 1 year

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𝓬𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓿𝓪𝓵 𝓯𝓾𝓷

feat: bf!satoru x reader

contents: public sex, exhibition kink, daddy, dirty talk, tit play, riding, horny reader, multiple orgasms,cream pie, breeding, slapping, goofy, ferris wheel, late night, blowjob, oral

“satoru! let’s go on the ferris wheel,” you giggle, pulling his sleeve in your direction, “haven’t been on one of these in forever!”

satoru can never deny you, grinning from ear to ear as he follows you. looking down at your skirt, he tells himself it’s not because of how your ass bounces with every hop you take; he tells himself it’s because he likes Ferris wheels too. somehow you know he’s staring at you, thinking naughty things. your pussy flutters at the thought.

“can you pay, baby?” you ask with a smile, turning to face him with the cutest pout you could muster. he tsks, laughing to himself before giving a small smack to your ass. “killin my wallet, hun,” he murmurs, handing the worker the cash for the ride. not even seconds later you’re climbing on the little ride and pulling him in with you, waiting till you’re at the top before speaking.

“you enjoying today’s date so far, huh sweetie? you must be, considering I’ve spent over $100 already,” he hums, the tone sounds harsh but you know he’s kidding around, he couldn’t care less about the money if it means makin his girl happy.

“mhm, daddy,” you prop yourself on his lap, hands hugging around his neck, “been so good, the view is wonderful,” you tease, staring directly at his lips. satoru leans in, brushing his against yours, lightly ; just teasing. your legs squeeze against his.

“you sure?” he grins against your lips, “nothing’s missing?”

you smile, drinking his face up with your eyes, “jus- just one thing,” you whisper, movin your clothed pussy against his thigh lightly, “jus’ been so so horny since we got here,” you whine, giving his faces small kisses.

“yeah?” he lilts, “you can hold off till we get home, can’t you?”

“you’re supposed to take care of me, daddy”

satoru sucks in a breath, feeling your legs squeezing against his. he takes a quick look out of the window and groans, “the shit you make me do,” then he’s grabbing your cheeks, forcing your lips into a pout and his mouth is on yours. you giggle against him, moving your tongue along his as he tries to pull you closer. your little gasps fuel satoru on more and more, loving when he lifts your tiny skirt up, kneading your ass.

you feel wetness sliding down your pussy, n you can’t help but keep kissing him. the feeling of his tongue gliding over his lips turns you feral, “shit-,” satoru laughs, trying to keep up with your mouth, “so fuckin hot,”

his hands squeeze at your ass one more time before he’s hissing in annoyance, toying at your pink fucking panties. he’s breaking the kiss, leaning towards your ear.

“I’m’ gonna rip these fuckin things off, baby” he whispers, leaving harsh kisses on your neck and chest. you feel yourself hump your pussy on his leg again, wanting his mouth back on yours.

“oh god,” you whine, “m’ gonna cum”

satoru grins, he cannot stop himself from chuckling. he pulls down your top, letting your tits run free. “yeah, baby? how? i haven’t done anything to you yet,” his mouth sucks on your nipple, teasing and pulling.

“gimme a kiss, baby,” he teases, smiling at how eager you are to listen. you almost leap at the opportunity, lips smashing on his as you whimper, reaching to toy with your nipples as he takes control of your mouth. one last moan and he doesn’t miss how you’re shaking, grinding that lil pussy on him like your life depends on it.

“ya just came, hm?” he laughs, noticing a big wet spot on his jeans. he smiles at your cute little nod, loving how you already look out of it. he’s about to speak when the Ferris wheel cart suddenly stops, and a loud intercom fills your ear.

“Hello! I thank everyone for coming to this lovely spring carnival! As a little treat, please look out your windows as we pause this ride to release some fireworks. Thank you, and do not be alarmed— the ride will resume once they are done.”

“please, satoru,” you gasp, “wan’ you to fuck me so so bad before we get off,” he winces, growing noticeably harder and harder at your cute begging. you bury your face in his neck, sucking and leaving little kisses, doin your best to hurry him up.

“shhhh, baby,” he hushes you, trying to calm you down as he grabs onto your hips, “I’m gonna take good care of ya, pussies gonna be well fed when I’m done wit her,” his hands toy with your skirt for a little before peelin off your panties.

“lift your hips for me, love” he mumbles, finally ridding yourselves from that barrier. satoru exhales, fingers soaking themselves as he dips through your folds. you gasp, holding onto his neck as he starts to circle around your clit.

“ah— satoru,” you cry, trying to ignore the hard pounding in your core as he dips a finger inside you. he grins, inching it inside and out before adding a second finger.

“so fuckin wet,” he grins, “shit, don’t even needa prep you as much,” his fingers slide out to rub against your mouth, spreading your juices against your tongue. satoru’s dick grows incredibly hard under you, almost popping out of his zipper.

“you want it so bad? ya’ gotta work for it,” he coos, “be a good girl n’ get on your knees for me,”

you whine, but don’t want to wait to figure out what’ll happen if you don’t listen. you slide off him with a pout, your tits bouncing with the movement as you end up on your knees, face rubbing against his leg. satoru’s eyes are glued on you, fuck the fireworks. he can’t look anywhere else. he rubs the bulge on his jeans, head falling back with a groan at the feeling.

“ah shit,” he groans, grabbing your hair with one fist, “take my cock outta these jeans for me,”

your core flutters with the command, and your eyes don’t differ, they stay directed at him as you hastily unzip his pants, pullin them down to his legs before you do the same to his boxers. you could cum, just by watching how his dick pops out, smacking against his abdomen. precum’s already slippin out, n your mind goes fuzzy with the need to taste him.

“good fuckin girl,” he gives his dick a few strokes, eyes rollin back while he stares at your tits. he’s not gonna fuckin last so he has to make the most of this. “spit on it, baby, go ahead.. spit,” he murmurs, almost spilling himself on your face right then and there when you oblige, drool seeping from your lips onto him.

you’re honestly dazed. nothing’s registering through your mind, your boyfriends cock only thing you can think of, only wanting him inside of you, breeding you, pounding into you so fuckin hard in this cart that someone starts to question it. you must be so fuckin lost that satoru’s words weren’t even reaching your brain.

“are you listening to me, baby?” he murmurs, giving a little slap to your face that finally knocks you out of your dream. “am I gon have to stop all this? cus my girl isn’t listening?” he threatens, his strong hand gripping your cheeks together.

you panic, of course you don’t want him to stop! “no, no m’ sorry daddy, m’ listening,” you plead, staring up into his gorgeous blue eyes.

“you gon listen to daddy? I said stick your tongue out… yeah, fuck, jus like that… keep it out while I tap my cock against your lil tongue,” he groans, mumbling intelligible words as he slaps his tip against your tongue before sliding his whole length inside. you can’t help but gag, throat constricting against him. he doesn’t let up, gripping your hair as he fucks his cock into your mouth straight away.

“hollow your cheeks out… just like I taught you,” he murmurs, dick sliding even deeper, feelin your nose hit the base of his cock each time, “yeah, fuck jus like that”

drool seeps from your mouth into his balls. you do your best to keep going, but eventually satoru notices your quick shortness of breaths before finally giving you a little break. he pulls his cock out of your mouth, givn you time to cough and heave.

“cmon, you can handle a little more for daddy, right?” tears pool from your eyes but you nod, grabbin the base of him to give his tip little sucks and kitten licks. you’ll do anything for him, he admires. he has to pull you away before the tightness of his balls becomes too much. he needs to finish inside of you tonight.

“god, please! want you inside of me, satoru,” you cry, wiping the incoming tears from your eyes. the need to being full is pulling at your insides.

“aww, don’t cry baby, you’re gonna get it real soon,” he coos, wipin your tears away along with the drool on your chin. “jus’ gotta work for it okay? cmon, hop on daddies lap.”

you sniffle, standing up to climb over him. “lift your hips again, yeah.. good girl,” his cock slides up and down your cunt, spreading the wetness over his tip. you gasp, and can’t help but sit all the way down on it. satoru curses, groaning loud as he grips your hips tightly.

“oh, fuck. bad fuckin girl,” he hisses, feeling your walls squeeze against him so tight, even he has to take a second to compose himself. you’re crying, knowing you took him all way too fast without taking time to adjust to the pain.

“oh, fuck! daddy it hurts.. hurts so bad,” you whine, sitting all the way down at the base of his cock, being careful not to move. “shh, I know, I’ll make it all better soon,” he says, thumb immediately reaching down to rub at your clit. you moan, grabbing into his shoulders. some pain immediately reduces to pleasure, n you’re still left a sobbing mess.

“more more, oh god,” your loud whimpers fill the cart, your own fingers toying with your nipple as satoru continues rubbing at your puffy little bud.

satoru grins, givin your lips a little peck. “feel better? yeah?” you nod at him, mouth gaping in pleasure.

“good girl. bounce up and down on my cock, alright? I know it hurts, do it to make daddy happy,” he commands, and you’re doin your best to listen. you start with a slow roll of your hips, moaning as your clit rubs over his abdomen.

just then, the loud intercom starts again.

“Good evening! Thank you for your patience and I hope you all enjoyed the view. The ride will start up again in 5 minutes, thank you.”

your eyes widen, that’s not enough time for you both.

“satoru, what do we do,” you whine, still rolling your hips against his cock.

“guess ya gotta hurry up, hun. don’t care if it hurts, m’ gonna fuck you myself if you don’t start bouncin,” he hisses, feelin your tight pussy squeeze the life out of him.

panic races through your veins as you lift up just until the tip is in before sliding all the way back down. you know you’re being loud, but you could not care anymore. light pain fills you but you keep going, sliding up and down until you’re seeing stars. the sound of your ass smacking over his hips is the only thing registering between you.

“oh fuckk, doing so fucking good,” satoru groans, staring at your tits rolling up and down between each bounce. his eyes roll back as you finally find your pace. “you fuckin feel that? your pussies squeezing me so damn tight,”

his hips start meeting you halfway, increasing the pace and intensity way more than before. you feel out of it. In the best way possible. the tip of his cock hitting your sweet spot every thrust sends you away, more and more moans pouring out of your throat. you can’t help, you cum right away.

“oh fuck, you cummin for me? cumming on my cock like a little slut— oh shit,” he groans, thrusts growing sloppy and careless. “reach down and play with your pussy,” he hisses, moaning alongside with you as your pussy contracts around him. cream coats his cock, makin sure his pace doesn’t let up.

“m’ gonna fuckin cum inside you, fill your pussy up until you can’t hold anymore.. fuck fuck,” he leans forward to suckle your tit in his mouth, loving how you’re still trying to bounce on his cock.

“I-I can’t anymore! satoru please, s’ too much,” you cry, pussy feeling overstimulated with how much his cock keeps hitting your g-spot over and over again. you feel as if you’re gonna cum once more with the pressure.

“you can, baby. fuck, I feel you tightening up again, you gonna cum with me?” another hard thrust follows by another through his constant mumbling, and it’s his finger pressing on your clit that sends you to paradise again. you squeeze around him, a loud wail comin from you as you release.

“good girl, gonna cum inside this tight little pussy- shit shit-,” one last sloppy thrust has him releasing his load in you. thick ropes of cum filling your womb has you trembling over his frame. his name the only thing coming from mind fucked brain. satoru’s groan fills the air as he at last stills his hips, letting go of the last drops of cum. he chuckles, laying his head back as you fall alongside him, his cock still nestled in your pussy.

“can’t believe you made me fuck you inside a ferris wheel,”

“feel so much better now, daddy,” you smile against his neck, all content and happy.

satoru laughs before looking out the window.

“shit, hurry up and put all your clothes on. we’re almost at the bottom.”

#jjk #jujustsu kaisen x reader #gojo smut #jjk satoru #satoru smut #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustu kaisen #gojo satoru #jjk x you #jjk gojo #saturo gojo #anime smut #jjk imagines #smut

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avatar-anna · 3 months

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Moments caught between Harry and Y/n on camera at the Brits

just something fun because harry at the brits was a mess but we love him for it!

Young Dad! Harry Styles x Young Mom! Reader Masterlist

The red carpet is loud and raucous, bright lights flashing as people shout for the attention of celebrities. One couple in particular is the center of attention the second they step on the carpet.

Harry Styles and a woman walk arm-in-arm, a broad grin on his face and a shy smile on hers. Harry seems to be whispering something in the woman's ear, his nose pressed against the crown of her head. It makes her visibly relax, her grin widening and becoming more authentic as they take a couple more steps.

The woman is the recently revealed Y/n Styles, Harry Styles' long-time partner that he'd somehow kept from the rest of the world for over a decade. But she was here tonight, just as she had been at the Grammys a couple weeks ago, and the cameras now track their every move, intrigued by this new-ish couple.

"Harry! Harry! Harry, over here!"

"Y/n!"

"Harry, did you really marry Y/n when you were in One Direction?"

"Y/n, how does it feel to be with the most famous man in music?"

Y/n, who's hard to miss in a red dress that fits like a glove, shrinks almost imperceptibly against Harry's side. Harry looks down at her, and the husband and wife share a look as if they're having an unspoken conversation.

Then he mutters something to her, and Y/n laughs as Harry kisses her cheek, but not before nudging his nose against it. The shouts double, so used to Harry's stoic approach to being out in the public eye, but both of them move steadily down the carpet, not paying the paparazzi and reporters any mind.

*.*

During their walk down the red carpet, Harry and Y/n come across a barricaded section for fans of the artists in attendance. They all cheer as each celebrity walks by, shouting compliments and proclamations of love for their favorite.

Y/n once again hesitates on Harry's arm, wary eyes darting toward the boisterous fans. At the same time, Harry is called to by a reporter asking for an interview. Checking in with his wife, he departs with a kiss to her forehead, murmuring words the cameras can't quite pick up.

Y/n stands on her own, one arm crossed over her stomach as she tries to stay standing tall. Fans call out to her from the barricade in a way that's difficult to ignore. She waves at them with a small smile, but it's clear they want her to come closer.

With one glance at her husband, who's still speaking with the reporter, and another to a security guard close by, she nods to the latter and they step closer to the barricade, just close enough in proximity that she can actually make out distinct voices and words.

"Y/n we love you!"

"Where did you meet Harry?"

"How long have you been together?"

"Ugh, you are so mother in that dress!"

"What's your skincare routine?"

"What's Harry's?"

The tense set of her shoulders eases a bit, no longer apprehensive of the fans and their potential to be cruel.

"I feel like I met him a lifetime ago," she says. "And I just cleanse, moisturize, and use SPF."

"How come we've never seen you at shows?"

"What's your favorite Harry song?"

"Are you friends with One Direction?"

"Where were you last year when Harry got wasted?"

Y/n chuckles at the last question, her eyes lighting up as her hand covers her mouth. "I've always had a soft spot for 'Ever Since New York.'"

"Taste!" a fan yells, decibels louder above the rest, which garners laughter from everyone.

"Can you make Harry release 'Medicine?'" another asks.

Before Y/n answers, Harry appears by her side, an arm snaking around her waist. "There you are. Got sidetracked by your own interview, did you?"

"They were just asking if I'd help them in their quest for a studio version of 'Medicine.' I'm not sure if I can, though. They don't know how stubborn you are."

A chorus of boos went up at Y/n's answer, but not at her. Harry raised his eyebrows at his wife as if in challenge, but her responding gaze is quite mischievous.

Taking everyone, including Y/n, by surprise, he leans in to kiss her cheek, saying, "Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight, darling?"

A chorus of aww's ring through the small crowd of fans as Harry places his hand on Y/n's lower back, ushering her away from the barricade. Y/n raises an eyebrow at her husband, who is conveniently not meeting her eye. "Nice save."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"You never call me darling."

Harry lets out a snort. "Lies. Lies on the red carpet tonight."

Y/n rolls her eyes but leans in close to her husband, carefully avoiding the fabric flower around his neck. "Mhmm. Let's go, darling."

*.*

An artist is being interviewed inside the O2, and Harry and Y/n are videotaped in the background.

In the very corner, the couple are leaning in close and talking, a drink in each one of their hands. Harry talks animatedly, gesturing with his drink to the point where it nearly spills on Y/n's dress. Y/n doesn't seem to mind and just throws back her head as she laughs. His eyes light up as he watches her, a word that could only be described as love encompassing his face.

*.*

During one of the performances, a camera pans to Harry's table. The house lights are dim, but he's still visible amongst the flashes of color from the stage. Harry sits in his chair, body slumped a little low so he can rest his head on Y/n's shoulder.

Both of their attention is on the performer onstage, not noticing as a few cameras are pointed in their direction as Y/n scratches the back of Harry's neck absentmindedly. He leans into her touch, looking up occasionally to say something to his wife.

*.*

"And the winner is...Harry Styles!"

Cheers erupted throughout the room, the table Harry is at standing up. Harry himself stays seated and curls in on himself, pumping his arms victoriously as he beams. His eyes are a little glassy, his hair unkempt, a sign that the night has progressed with lots of alcohol consumption.

He turns to his sister Gemma first as he stands up, high-fiving her before giving her a hug and fist-bumping someone else. Then he turns to Y/n, who hasn't stopped clapping since his name had been read for the third time from the envelope.

She opens her arms as if to accept a hug, but Harry has other plans. He leans forward and kisses her in a way that's merely pressing his smile against hers until they mold their mouths into a kiss. Then he kisses her cheek repeatedly, making her shoulders bunch as she smiles brightly.

When Harry finally pulls away, Y/n's cheeks are flushed as she tries to wipe at her husband's face with her thumb. With one last kiss, he heads up to the stage to accept his award.

*.*

Another performance, only this time, everyone is on their feet, including Harry and Y/n.

Harry's arms are wrapped around Y/n's shoulders from behind, his chin on her shoulder. Both of them sway from side to side to the rhythm of the song as Harry mouthed the words in Y/n's ear.

Her grin is wide as her eyes stay trained on the performance. Then, she looks back at Harry, who met her gaze as she says something.

Nodding, he kisses her once on the cheek before nodding back to the stage.

*.*

As Kid speaks into the microphone onstage saying his thank yous, Harry is having the time of his life behind his friend as he speaks to Stanley Tucci.

By now it's a little obvious he's had more than a couple drinks. His hair is nothing short of a mess, his dress shirt is a little more unbuttoned than it had been to begin with, and he throws his head back and laughs in a way that is fueled by drunken delight.

Briefly, the camera turns to Harry's wife, who stands beside Gemma. Y/n's hands hold her face as she watches her husband be ushered offstage by the people around him. She giggles a little before leaning over to Gemma and shaking her head. Gemma laughs along with her, covering her mouth as she says something to the woman beside her.

The camera flashes back to Harry, who turns around one last time so he can blow a kiss to the crowd, more specifically, Y/n, who the camera catches covering her face in her hands, cheeks as red as her dress.

*.*

Paparazzi shout at their latest persons of interest as they make the brief walk from the car to the entrance of a club where the after party for the Brits is being held.

Harry's arms are tightly wrapped around Y/n's waist, face set as he ignores the crowd of people shouting for his attention. Y/n, turned slightly inward towards Harry's chest, keeps pace beside him. Most of her body is covered by what can only be her husband's suit jacket, but with the open front, a hint of a sparkly pink dress can be seen, a drastic change from her award show attire.

The only time they separate is when Harry allows Y/n entrance into the club first before following close behind, his hand once again protectively hovering over the small of her back.

*.*

Photos are strictly forbidden inside of the club, so it isn't until the couple emerges from the doors once again that they're spotted.

Neither of them stumble, though paparazzi wouldn't have cared if they were. All eyes are on Harry's disheveled hair, the heels dangling from his fingers, the suit jacket draped over the arm not around his wife. They're on Y/n, whose dress is completely on display, the beading that covers its entirety flashing with every snap of the camera's shutter.

Then the collar of Harry's silk dress shirt shifted, revealing a harsh purple bruise that hadn't been there before. Neither Harry nor Y/n seem to notice, or understand why the cacophony of shouts became louder, they just continue on, Y/n's hand on the nape of her husband's neck idly scratching until he helps her into the car.

Following suit, Harry climbs inside. For a brief moment, Harry sticks his head out the open window of the car and winks and sticks his tongue out at all the photographers. Y/n appears from her side of the car, leaning across her husband to bring the window up. Not an ounce of care in the world, he leans forward to kiss his wife's exposed jaw. With an exasperated expression on her face and a delicate wave of her fingers, the window goes up, and though the windows are tinted, a hand is visible against the glass as the car peeled away from the curb.

#harry styles #young dad! harry #young mom! reader #young dadrry #young parent!harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles oneshot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x you #harry styles fluff #harry styles writing #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic

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astrolynnworld · 3 months

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eiffle tower

pairing: matt & chris x reader

summary: chris sees the way you look at matt. so he gives you the opportunity to have both

warnings: smut! cheating, plot twist, exhibition, degradation, praise, language, oral, penetration, switch matt, dom chris, pig roast, little bit of aftercare.

a/n- the highly requested duo smut 😩

word count: 2,073

i love chris so much but .. sometimes i can’t help the idea of “what if i had chose matt instead”

he carries himself so well and despite the fact that they’re triplets.. i really do see him as another version of chris

the version that is more tame.

whenever he sits with us at dinner and he just looks so pretty and proper

just eating his meal, observing the conversation, sharing a joke here and there.

he’s not too loud or quiet, he’s the perfect middle ground of enjoyable.

and he’s so caring towards me when chris isn’t around

he’s cooking? he’ll serve me first. dropped my phone? he’ll pick it up for me. too anxious to speak up? he’ll talk for me, regardless of the fact that he also has anxiety.

maybe it’s because i’m his brothers girlfriend but i just sense the underlying message of care

often times then not, chris will catch me staring off into a haze at matt.

i always have to play it off as if i just got lost in thought.

i mean i did get lost in thought..

the thought of matt’s eyes rolled back as i strok-

“y/n??” matt snaps me back into focus

“mhm?” i question as i stand at the fridge door aimlessly

“i think you dozed off again” he laughs slightly, “did you hear what i said?”

i shake my head no softly as i take a seat on the chairs behind me

“you okay?” he asks while inching closer and putting a hand on my shoulder

i look up at him standing over me

“i’m fine” i mutter out

“you’ve been out of it a lot lately. wanna know what would help?” he asks rhetorically

you.

“what?” i say before chris walks into the kitchen

“a hot tub?” chris answers, acknowledging that he had heard a bit of our conversation

“you always wanna go to the hot tub” i laugh as i switch my gaze to him

“it’s not the worst idea chris has had” matt remarks

“i could be down for a hot tub” i reply enthusiastically now that matt is down

“i’ll go ask nick if he wants to come while you guys get ready” matt says

“wait im coming with” chris follows behind matt

i walk back into the bedroom and roam around for something to wear

shortly after, chris comes back into the room

“nicks not coming, he has a fever” he informs as he tries to grab his swim shorts

i nod my head and sit on the bed as i watch him change

“see something you like?” he flirts as he slowly approaches me

“a whole lot” i smile as i look up to him for a kiss

“alright love birds. we can go now” matt comes in fully dressed

i grab my bag and quickly follow behind matt

our go to hot tub spot was at the warehouse, which was only 10 minutes away from their house

once we get there, matt grabs his key card so he can unlock the gate to the pool

we trail around the side of the pool and make our way to the hot tub

they both take off their shirts before stepping into the hot tub

i could see the masculine structure lining in their backs

the broadness of their shoulders

the width of their arms as they lean back against the wall of the hot tub

i’m so lucky that i at least get to fuck one of them bec-

“wait! i forgot my headphones at the warehouse last time. i need to grab them before i forget again” chris says in a hurry as he gets out the hot tub and makes his way back to the house

“and bring some towels please” matt shouts after him

“watch him come back with none” i chuckle at his attempt

“no yeah for sure. kids gonna come back with a pepsi and forgot what he even went in for” he says as we share a laugh

“how do you even put up with him?” he says in a curious manner

“what do you mean?” i question

he starts to inch closer from the other side of the hot tub

“i see how you act, you’re not like him. you’re polite.. clean.. civil.. well mannered. how do you put up with him?” he says while fully towering me

“i- we- well because i love him” i nervously speak

“do you love him? because i see the way you look at me y/n”

i freeze in my spot

“you think i don’t notice but i do. you’d rather be with me huh? you’d rather it be me that you lay with every night right?” he taunts over me

“me who fucks you to sleep? every. single. night.” he whispers into my ear

“matt what are you doing..” i shyly whisper out

“say it baby. say you want me instead” he puts his nose to mine

i look into his eyes, “i want you instead”

he closes the gap between our lips with passion

sloppily pulling away and going back in for more as he wraps his hands around my waist

i feed into the passion, feeling a fire of energy ignite in me

“i KNEW it.”

i heard a voice speak from above us

i jump back from matt’s arms as i look up to see an angry chris standing outside the hot tub

matt starts to slowly back away as chris gets back in the hot tub and comes straight for me

he grabs my throat, “you’re such a slut. making out with my brother when i’m less than 30 feet away? you thought i wouldn’t find out or you just didn’t care?” he asks

i stay silent as i try to release his grip from my throat. only making him squeeze harder

“you know.. i had a feeling you were a slut. that’s why i put him up to this”

————————————————————

earlier:

“wait i’m coming with” i followed behind matt

after y/n walks back to my room i stop matt in his tracks

“i might need you to do a weird favor for me.” i speak hesitantly

matt was a great brother but i don’t know how deep that great would go for me

“what?” he asks

“i need you to tempt y/n into cheating on me”

“.. why the fuck would i do that?” he questions

“i’ve been seeing the way she looks at you recently. i need to know if she would or wouldn’t fold”

he can hear the genuineness in my voice. i wouldn’t ask him to do something like this if i wasn’t serious

i still love her..

i just needed to know if she likes him or not, how far she was willing to go about it.

“alright bro. i’ll try” he says before continuing to walk up to nick’s room

————————————————————

present:

i gasp as i start to find it hard to breathe.

he lets go of my throat and pulls my hair back so i can look him in the eyes

“you wanna fuck my brother so bad right?”

he pulls my head back to matt

“here. have him”

he turns me around and bend me over in front of matt

“bro.. i don’t know about-“ matt starts to speak

chris grabs my throat and shrinks down to my face, “tell him how much you want him baby. tell him how you want him to put it in. beg for it”

i silently stare at him in shock of his new aggression

“tell him.” he slaps my cheek

“please put it in matt.” i turn back and speak

“beg him for it” chris continues

“please matt, i beg you. just put your cock inside me”

matt slides my bathing suit to the side and slowly starts to align himself with my hole despite the water making it hard to see

“good girl” chris speaks before placing a kiss on the cheek he just slapped

matt lets out a heavy breath as he slides himself along my walls

i gasp as i feel the added pressure

“feels good doesn’t it baby? feels good to be a slut right?” chris speaks

i nod my head with my pout

“say it baby. say it feels good to be a slut” chris adds in

“it feels good to be a slut” i whimper out as i back into matts cock while he meets me halfway

chris traces his fingers against my lips, “who’s slut are you?”

“yours chris. i do whatever you say” i whine out as i squint my eyes from the feeling of matt’s cock hitting against my cervix

“mhmm. so good for me baby” chris says as he pushes his fingers in my mouth for me to suck

i can faintly hear matt trying to hold back his moans and whimpered pleasure as he feels my walls suck him in

the tightness of my walls clenching and pulling around him as he struggles to identify wether it’s the warm silky wetness is from me, or the hot tub.

shutting his eyes to focus on the pleasure

chris on the other hand, is so turned on by the idea of me getting slutted out for his pleasure

he likes the idea of another man being able to enjoy me like he does

i can see the bulge peering out through his swim shorts

i couldn’t let him go attentionless so i free his cock and start to jerk it under the water

he pulls away from me and slaps me once again

“did i give you permission to touch me slut?”

i pout and shake my head no

he places his cock on my cheek, “fuck. i could cover your whole face baby”

“please put it in my mouth daddy” i beg, tired of the teasing

“you want me to face fuck you baby? you wanna be a good girl and let daddy face fuck you?” he rhetorically questions

“yes please. please put your cock in my mouth and use me to your pleasure” i whine out before he shoves his cock in my mouth and starts to fuck into me

it’s like every time chris pulls out of my mouth, matt pushes into my hole. and when chris pushes back in, matt pulls out

it was a back and forth train of stimulation that sent my head into a spiral

i lost all my thoughts and all i could focus on was the whines and whimpers that poured out of my mouth into chris’s cock

“fuck keep moaning baby. it feels so good around my cock” chris whines out

“you’re squeezing- around my cock y/n.. fuck i don’t know how much longer i’m gonna last.” matt throws his head back as he starts to speed up the pace, sending me flying into chris’s dick

i know im gonna cum soon. i just feel so dirty, getting fucked and stuffed by two brothers in a public hot tub. it felt so nasty and so wrong, i couldn’t help but think of how hot that was

and imagining if someone caught us. how gross and nasty they would think i am. how much of a slut im being right now. fuck i’m gonna cum

i squeeze around matts cock as i let out my orgasm.

as soon as i finish i feel matt pull out of me, followed by trickles of warm liquid splatter all over my back.

“you’re such a fucking slut baby. you let guys cum all over you? you like when guys treat you like a fucking toy and use you to their liking?” chris continues to degrade

“fuck i’m gonna cum baby.” he finishes his final thrusts before coating my throat with his cum

he pulls out and i sit up in the hot tub with a fucked out expression, not being able to think for myself.

tears dry up against my face from not being able to breathe

matt starts to fix and play with my hair while chris wipes my eyes

“it’s okay baby, i still love you” chris says as kisses into my lips

i don’t respond. still trying to regain my sense

“we should probably get her back to the house” matt suggests

“yeah. let’s go” chris adds before he picks me up and carries me back to the car in a cradle position.

————————————————————

a/n- hope yall enjoyed 😘 i put my back into this one fr

taglist: @sturniologirlfriend @cutiepatootie36273 @secret-sturniolo @sturns-blog @sturniolo-2003 @mayaaatok @sturnswrites @mattsleftnipple03 @mattybswife @tropicasturn @princessbetsy123-blog <333

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whateveriwant · 5 months

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Idk if you're taking requests, but here I am. Maybe TF 141 with an S/O who has ADHD and when going places, like a mall, for example they'll just completely walk away and they'll just loose their S/O

I took 'reader who is always walking away' and ran with it… ba dum tss (sorry, I had to). Anyway, I hope this is sorta what you were looking for! I was in a Christmas-y mood so all of these are winter/holiday themed!

Price

The park is especially busy for a Friday afternoon. There's children playing in the snow, daring youths having a go on the frozen lake, and families everywhere making memories to last a lifetime.

You've only been sitting on this bench for roughly a quarter of an hour before Price starts to squirm beside you, something clearly making him uncomfortable. Before you can even ask what it is, he's standing from the seat in one brisk motion.

“Be back in a moment, darling,” he grumbles. “The cold makes me need to piss like a stallion.”

As he takes off to find a place to relieve himself, all you can do is laugh and call after him to, “Wash your hands!”

Five minutes and one desecrated tree later, he emerges from the secluded thicket of bushes he found, zipping up his fly discreetly. He makes his way back to the bench you'd been seated at, a bit of a spring to his step… only to deflate once he discovers you’ve disappeared into thin air.

He sighs out loud – a long, drawn-out sound. He could say he's surprised but then he'd be lying. He knows you and your tendency to wander off; this is nothing new to him. Now it's just a matter of finding you again… for the third time this week, he remarks internally.

He would try calling you but he already knows you forgot your phone at home. He's got to get better about reminding you to take it with you whenever you leave the house, especially if he's constantly having to chase after you like you're some sort of loose gerbil.

Thankfully, he sees a set of footprints which he believes to be yours leading away from the bench. So, with no better clues to guide him, he decides to follow after the tracks, hoping they'll lead him right to you.

It's not long into it that he hears a sound in the distance, sort of a low, pleasant humming that grows stronger the closer he gets. It's only a minute or two later when – eureka! – he finds you standing with a small crowd who've gathered to listen to a group of carolers.

Ahh, of course. He should've known. You just can't resist a good live performance. Like a siren calling to you in a storm, one way or another, you'll always find your way to them.

Price easily sidles up next to you, flashing a smile when you briefly turn to take notice of him. His hand finds the small of your back as he joins you in listening, enjoying the festive songs performed by the carolers.

You're standing for a while, attention fully drawn to the singers ahead, when at some point you lean into Price’s ear, your voice lowered to a whisper.

“You washed your hands?” Your question is earnest, if not a little playful.

In response, and with a tone most firm, he declares simply, “...Yep.” Though, the way his hand slips from your back and into his coat pocket reeks of something awfully similar to guilt.

Ghost

You're on your 15th row when you spot it. There, standing not quite two and a half meters tall, perfectly green and dense and conical: your Christmas tree for the year.

An excited squeal leaves your lips and you swiftly run up to the tree to admire its beauty. “This is it! This is the one! Oh, isn't it just perfect?” you say reverently.

“Hold on a minute, love,” Ghost tries to rein you in as he lags a bit further behind. “Isn't that wha' you said about the one a few rows back? Wha' about that one?”

Oh yeah! You forgot all about that tree!

Well, now that he's reminded you, you want to do a little comparison. You tell him to stay put and guard this one while you quickly run back to check out that other one.

Two, five, nearly ten minutes pass and you haven't returned, much to Ghost’s chagrin. He thinks his bollocks must’ve shrunk three sizes by now from how long he's been standing out in this freezing cold.

After a dozen or so minutes, he tries ringing you, just to make sure everything’s alright. When there's no answer on the other end, he tries again, but is met with the same silence that has a streak of alarm bolting up his spine.

Ghost has always been a worrywart when it comes to his loved ones, and that concern only amplifies when it comes to large crowds and even larger spaces.

What's taking so long? Where have you gone? Are you lost? Hurt? Something worse? His mind begins to spiral.

Fuck it, he decides, and abandons the tree in order to seek you out. As he searches, row after row yields nothing but strangers and snow-capped firs. By now he's starting to fully panic, running around like a maniac, drawing the eyes of everyone in the lot as he yells out your name.

When he finally runs into you again – literally runs into you – he's out of breath, his heart pounding, and he grabs your shoulders with his strong hands and nearly shakes you out of your knitted cap.

“Don't scare me like that!” he's more exasperated than angry, and he pulls you into a bone-crushing hug. “Thought somethin’ might've happened to you,” he confesses, holding you to his chest like he thinks you'll evaporate if he lets go.

“M’sorry,” you mumble into the wall of hard muscle. “Got distracted.” The excuse is as weak as your skeleton feels beneath his embrace.

Distracted? What could have possibly distracted you enough that you didn't hear him screaming your name?

You pull back just enough to look at him, a sad curl to your lip that he can tell is forced. “I saw the cutest French bulldog,” you say, and Ghost has the audacity to scoff. “No, really! He was wearing the most adorable little Christmas jumper, and his name was Bark-tholomew. Bark-tholomew!” you stress.

Now that he knows you're safe and sound, Ghost loosens his hold on you, closing his eyes as he feels his pulse begin to slow.

“I asked the owners for a picture. Do you wanna see him?” you add hopefully.

When Ghost opens his eyes again, he's met with that sweet look on your face – that one he's unable to resist. He holds his breath for a beat or two, before letting out a deep, resonating sigh. “...Yeah, alright. Let's see it.”

Soap

It's unsurprising to find the mall jam-packed the week before Christmas, but that doesn't mean Soap isn't still annoyed by the swarm of bodies. But that's what he gets for waiting so long to go holiday shopping. Curse those last-minute deals and his inability to pass them up!

However, rather than wandering aimlessly through the mall, Soap has a game plan for today's spree. He knows exactly what stores he wants to hit, in the order he wants to hit them. And with you following closely behind to help, he's sure it'll be no sweat.

The first shop is easy enough to navigate with you trailing after him – providing your input when he inquires, and holding his items for him once he picks the one he wants. The second shop is much the same and the third even easier.

It's on the way to the fourth where, too caught up in his lists, Soap doesn't notice as you divert from the path, something else much more appealing stealing your attention away. It isn't until he's trying to decide between the last remaining pairs of snowmen or gingerbread men socks that he turns to ask your opinion, only to find you nowhere in sight.

He peers around the store for a second, not spotting you anywhere, before he suddenly feels his phone vibrating in his pocket. Your picture flashes across his screen and when he answers, the first question out of your mouth is, “Where are you?”

Where is he? Where are you? You were supposed to be following him, he not-so-subtly reminds you.

“I'm by the Cinnabon,” you tell him, then make a sound like you're taking a sip of something. “They've got hot chocolate. Giving out free cups of it,” you say, and that has Soap's ears instantly perking up.

Oh. So that's what had you scurrying off in his time of need. Honestly though, he can't say he'd have done any differently if he had caught scent of it like you did.

His movements falter for a beat, slowly lowering both pairs of socks in his hands. “Get me a cup, will ya?”

“Sorry. Can't.”

‘Can't’?! Well, why not?

You inform him that they're only giving out one per person and they seem to be running a pretty tight ship, so it's not like you could sneak another under the radar. And that makes sense, he supposes. They want everyone to have a chance to enjoy some.

“But that's why I called,” you continue. “It looks like they're almost out. So if you want one, you gotta come quick.”

The sudden deadline has Soap's eyes darting down to the themed socks in his hands. If he leaves now, they'll no doubt be snatched up by someone else. But the prospect of a cup of hot chocolate is equally as tempting, if not more so.

After debating with himself for about half a second, he asks, “…Where’d ye say ye were again?” as he places the hangers back on their racks. “By the Cinnabon. Right.” He makes his way to the front of the store, moving as quickly as possible. “Wait there,” he tells you, and once he's out the door, he's running full speed, his shopping bags swinging violently in his hands. “I'm comin’!”

Gaz

The night before Christmas seemed as good a night as any to take a walk around the neighborhood. So once you and Gaz had bundled up all nice and warm, you went for a stroll around the block, heading wherever your feet decided to take you.

Over an hour later, you're both just enjoying the evening – giving cheerful greetings to passing neighbors, turning down unexplored streets as you try to soak in this gorgeous night.

It's as you come up to another fork in the road that Gaz suddenly realizes one of his shoes is untied. He stoops to tie the laces, eyes cast down in his concentration, and as he does, you continue walking ahead, completely unaware that you're leaving him behind.

By the time he's finished and stands up again, you've vanished into the middle of this unfamiliar neighborhood.

Damn it. There you've gone and done it again. He knew he should have invested in one of the backpack leash things you see parents try to wrangle their wayward kids in.

You’d both left your phones at home in order to try to fully immerse yourself in this experience, so now he's forced to go old school when it comes to finding you.

He knows you couldn't have gotten very far; it's only a matter of if you went one way or the other. He picks a direction at random and after walking for a moment, he comes across a passerby whom he asks if they've seen someone matching your description. When they say they haven't, he then doubles back, repeating the process in the opposite direction.

Before long, thankfully, Gaz thinks he spots you stopped in front of a house not too far in the distance. He jogs up to where you're standing, and when he comes within earshot, he jokes, “Need to get you a bell or something, hun.”

Though the joke was lame at best, you don't react to it at all; don't even seem to hear it, honestly, which is likely given how distracted you currently are.

Your focus is entirely drawn to the house before you, your back to the street as you stare up at the brick facade. The house is stunning, absolutely covered top to bottom in all sorts of Christmas lights and decorations. It's by far the best display you've seen all year, and a breath of pure amazement leaves your lips as you take it in.

“Wow…” The word clouds the chilled air with a light puff of smoke. “Isn't it beautiful?” your awe bleeds into your voice, making it gentle, dreamy, like a sweet bell ringing in his ears.

Your tone has Gaz turning to face you, watching how you marvel at the way the lights twinkle and shine. A kaleidoscope of colors reflect off your skin, and an almost angelic glow seems to radiate from within you the longer he looks.

As he admires you, Gaz can't help how a smile slowly overtakes his face. With his eyes still trained on you, he takes your hand with his, and speaks softly, almost in a whisper, “Yeah… beautiful.”

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komelrebi-san · 5 months

Text

gem ♡ boy band ver.

will be performing in a band in talent show and it gave me ideas

feat.: guitarist! childe, drummer! itto, bassist! diluc, keyboardist! kaveh, vocalist! venti synopsis: Hoyo Entertainment recently debuted a boy band! and you are their pretty little stage-styling manager. the catch? they can't seem to keep their hands off you...

a/n: i got carried away oops

tw: MDNI!!, characters slightly ooc, fingering, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap kiddos!!), semi-public sex, slight voyeurism, dacryphilia, p->v penetration, slight breeding, semi-clothed sex, edging/orgasm denial, hand fetish, praise kink, riding, marking (hickies), oral f!/m! receiving, slight manhandling, size kink, tummy bulge, tell me if there's more!

don't like, don't read.

guitarist! childe

always laughing on stage, bright cobalt eyes twinkling as he played

the kind to vibe with his members on stage, looking over at them now and then with a wide grin on his face

the cheeky smile he sends to the audience, the kind of smile where dimples appear at the corner of his lips, paired along with a charismatic wink, makes the audience go crazy

but who cares about the audience when he knows that you're backstage, watching?

always makes sure to throw his head back at back at the end of the song when he strums the last chord

he knows you can see his adam apple bob in his throat, he knows you can see how the light hits his jaw line, he knows you can see the sweat dripping down the side of his face, he knows you can see him pant and his hair stick to his forehead

he knows he's hot, and he knows you get antsy when you hear the fans scream

he's definitely the kind to stare at you intently when you're brushing highlighter onto his face, or using a blue eyeliner that matched his big eyes

'mhm? you're blushing~' he remarks, raising a hand to push away yours that's holding the eyeliner pen before cupping your cheek

insists that you kiss him before you go on stage, for good luck purposes only!

(not just that though, your lips are so soft, of course he'd wanna kiss them)

'ajax, you're gonna smudge your lip- mmh!' and he plants his lips firmly on yours, long slender fingers brushing against your waist

he laughs when he sees your red face, turning to walk on stage but not forgetting to plant another kiss on your cheek

oh, it's so cute, he thinks. he does it every time but you never fail to please him with your flushed cheeks

he knows you stare at his hands - dextrous fingers, prominent knuckles and veins, he knows you practically drool over them when he plays guitar

and you make the prettiest sounds when his fingers work their way into your panties

'wait- ajax- not here-' and he cuts you off by pressing his lips to yours, relishing the whimper that bubbled up your throat

'not here, mhm? that's not what your pretty little cunt says, princess. you're dripping wet, i can just slip my fingers right in.'

you're quite sure that you saw stars when his fingers reach a spot inside you that you'll never be able to reach with your own fingers

he chuckles when you break off the heated kiss, a loud moan tumbling out of your pretty lips when he curled his fingers inside you

'no no no, we can't have that, mhm? people are gonna hear.' childe leans in to whisper in your ear, raising his other hand to cover your mouth as you whined.

'unless...that's what you're into. you want them to hear, do you? you want them to hear how good i'm making you feel? naughty girl.'

he laughs breathily when you moan again, the sound muffled by his hand, lewd squelching resonating in the dressing room when he scissors his fingers in your cunt

'tell you what, if you are good and stay quiet, i'll let you cum. how's that?' and he grins when you nod feverishly, bucking your hips into his hand.

he knows you can't stay quiet, he knew, but maybe he'd play nice today, since you're so desperate for his touch, mhm?

he hears venti call for him, so he curls his fingers in a 'come here' motion, pushing his finger pads against that spot inside you that made your legs quiver

with a muffled cry, you gush around his fingers, juices dribbling down your thighs as your walls clamped tight around his fingers

'good girl.' he says, licking your juices clean from his fingers, grinning when you groan at the sight. 'wish me luck, mhm? maybe i'll treat you later.'

drummer! itto

the kinda guy that laughs while throwing his head back as he plays, especially when one of his band members pull off something sick

twirls his drumstick, it looks so cool fr fr

his arms!

there's this once when you told him being able to play drums is cool, so he tried to teach you

made you sit in the drum stool and sat in a chair behind you, wrapping his arms around your figure to take your hands in his own, guiding your hands holding the drumsticks to hit the different drums

back against his firm chest, veins gliding over knuckles when he squeezed your hands gently

oof his hands completely covered your own bc yours were so much smaller than his

you can see the muscles flexing in his arm when he plays, oof he's so strong

and he knows it, he wears tank tops all the time for a reason, bc tank tops meant that ppl can see his arms, good god

in between songs, he runs a hand through his hair and takes a drink of water from his bottle - but you're right there, backstage, watching their performance

so instead, he gulps the water because he knows you see his adams apple bobble up and down

he pours some of the water on his head (under the excuse of the heat) because he knows you can see the water wet his shirt (sticking to his muscles) and lifts his shirt to dry the sweat running down his face

he sees you staring, really - he sees you staring when he twirls his drumstick and pass it from finger to finger, knuckle to knuckle; he sees you staring when he stretches after a performance

'Sorry about my hair, it must give you a lot of trouble, huh?' He says as you stood in front of him, trying your best to curl the hair that fell beside his face

the way his voice was quiet and slightly husky, the way his large hands were dangerously low on your hips, the way he leaned closer to you whilst pulling you into him - everything about him made you melt

you give him a rather nervous smile before leaving him to change into his outfit, but wait - he pulls you back into him

the way he's manhandling you is so hot, ngl

partially, itto really wants to just prove his strength and manliness to you, to prove that he's the best because he knew his band members want you too (who wouldn't, mhm???)

your back was against the wall, his hands hooked under your knees holding you up while his hips rutted into you

'fuck, look at you, taking my big fat cock so well.' he groans. his cock tip was probably kissing your cervix because he was so big. he gripped your blush thighs tight, groaning when your cunt sucks him back in

'shit, you're so tight, doll.' he pants, laughing at your terrible attempt at trying to form a sentence, only incoherent babbles exit your mouth. 'i bet none of the others fuck you like this, mhm?'

you can barely think as he works you impossibly close to your climax, eyes rolled to the back of your head

'fu- i- i'm gonna cum.' he pants, lifting you slightly so that his cock head pressed against your g-spot every time, loud cries ripped from your throat at feeling the knot in your tummy threatening to unravel

he possibly got even harder at seeing your tummy bulge

'yeah? you want me to fill you up? you gonna take my cum like a good girl?' you couldn't answer him, drool running down the corner of your lips, tongue lolling out, way too fucked out to think or respond. but he knew your answer when you whined loudly, walls fluttering around him

he thinks you look pretty, even prettier than usual - barely able to walk, his cum running down your thighs

bassist! diluc

he's the quiet one

but bc of the kind of aura he has, bro's popularity skyrocketed

actually not the type to wear rings and shit, he likes stuff simple

but! the fans went wild when he started wearing them at your suggestion

upon noticing his popularity dramatically increase, kazuha started including more bass riffs in the songs

actually has a good singing voice, but only shines when he does adlibs for venti's vocals

he looks so good on stage, sheesh

long red hair usually pulled back into a ponytail with small braids here and there, bangs curled to frame his face perfectly, rings adorning his long fingers (very much at your genius suggestion, big thank you)

like childe, he interacts with his members on stage

doesn't just open up to everyone, but feels really close to his band members

he's not as outgoing about it, he only subtly shows his trust in his companions

he gives everyone a reassuring nod before lowering his head again to look at his fingers strumming the strings, or pressing down on the fingerboard

bobs his head slightly as he plucks the strings

redid his hair once in the middle of a concert, but he did it by fixing his hair while biting on his hairtie

ooof that was so hot

gentle in his approaches, generally prioritises you and your needs over everything

always brings an extra bottle of water to the dressing room - oh, one of them is for you

gives you a small but sincere smile as you lean closer, gently dabbing eyeshadow/doing eyeliner

the kind to lean closer to you, tuck a fallen strand of hair behind your ear before stroking your cheek

'thank you,' he whispers, leaning in to press the lightest peck to your cheek, before making his way to the stage, not forgetting to give you a small smile - a smile that he reserved only for you

oof i'm whipped

he rlly loves it when you do his hair, bc you're so gentle with him

catches your eyes in the mirror as you worked away on his hair, curling iron in one hand, hairbrush in the other, bobby pins held in your pursed lips and clips on your sweater sleeve

your touch feels so nice, oop

oh, you look so cute, he thinks. you look so cute when you're all focused on him, and not focused on childe's/venti's shenanigans

but - you look even cuter when you're on your knees in front of him, pouty lips wrapped around his dick, struggling to take all of him in your mouth

'you look so pretty like this.' he says, cupping your jaw in one of hands

quiet for the most part, but when you struggle take more of him inside your mouth, pressing your tongue flat against the underside of his shaft and raise a hand to fondle his balls, he loses it

a gutteral groan rumbled from his chest, throwing his head back, reaching to hook his hand on the back of your head, he pushed your head down slightly as he tangles his fingers in your hair

'you're doing so- ah- so good.' he pants, tugging your hair slightly as he bucked his hips, smiling slightly when you gag as his tip hits the back of your throat, fat tears rolling down your cheeks as you whimpered

'you look so pretty, good god.' he groans, rutting his hips into your mouth as he cums down your throat

keyboardist! kaveh

pretty!

his hair is so soft!

literally doesn't give you any trouble when you try to style it

tie it up into a ponytail, half-up, braid it - anything works and anything looks pretty on him, and he has zero objections in you trying out new stuff

does the thing where he drums the desk or his thigh or the arms of the chair, his deft fingers playing his keyboard part, tapping away

at first it was really annoying, geez

but it slowly became comforting, calming, even

almost like a kind of silent noise at the back of your mind, soothing you as you do his makeup

big eyes peer up at you, batting his lashes innocently when you are not working away at his eye makeup

and when you are, a soft smile dances on the curves of his lips, feeling the brush against his eyelids or along the corner of his eyes

he's so gentle, so sweet with you, you could practically see all his affection towards you pour out of his eyes

your heart aches when he's around you because his attention is all on you

but at the same time, he wants, needs, craves your attention so bad at the best of times

quite affectionate with you too

ruffles your hair, pats your cheek, swings an arm around your shoulders - you name it

my gosh, have you seen his music scores?

any and all space is filled with doodles of you - and they look so accurate!

he's always focused on every little detail on your face, every tiny perfect imperfection, he can't get enough of you because you're so pretty that it hurts

it's only fair that he captures your beauty perfectly, since you make him look so pretty when he goes on stage

clingy! he's basically half hugging you when he peers up at you, taking in how you were frowning slightly as you worked away at his face, tracing his cheekbone with a dab of highlighter

takes advantage of every single chance he has to be alone with you, and that's how you ended up being pulled onto his lap as his bandmates filed out of the dressing room, heading onto the stage first

'ka- kaveh, you have to go on stage-' you manage to stutter, feeling him grind his bulge into your aching cunt

'shh, you want this too, no?' he whispers, leaning in to press openmouthed kisses to your collarbone

but it was obvious you were needy - small hand fisting and clutching his shirt tight, humping your hips against him to match his rhythm, quiet whimpers leaving your throat when you feel his erection against your barely clothed cunt

'you're so cute.' he says breathily, tugging you closer to him whilst moulding his lips with yours

oh, his lips are so soft, and he tasted so sweet - like strawberry and peach blossoms and all kinds of other nice things, you can never get enough - he tasted just as sweet as the way he treated you

and when he finally slips inside you, both of you groaned loudly, not even caring about other people hearing

you felt so full - his long-fingered hands on your hips, helping you move up and down on his cock

'i can feel myself here.' he pants, caressing the bulge in your tummy with his warm palm. 'shit- your gonna kill me with your clenching- god- just- just relax, yeah? i've gotchu.'

just like he knew all the small details on your face, he also knew exactly how to work his way around your body

'shh shh, you're doing so good for me, so good.' he praises, leaning in to suck on your neck, pretty red and purple marks blooming across your soft skin.

'i'm- nngh- i'm close.' you manage to make out, hands on his shoulder to support yourself.

'i know, princess. me too. cum with me, yeah?' he smiles, pulling you to him to cradle your head in his neck, voice cracking when he feels your walls clamp down on him again

he brought a hand down to swipe across your clit, feeling you quiver in his touch

with a sob, you cum around him, white strings of both your juices dripping out of your cunt as he pulled out

'good girl.' he says, leaning in to press another sweet kiss to your lips.

vocalist! venti

cheeky little shit

straightup just blatantly stares at you in the mirror when you're doing his hair

peeks under your skirt you're bent over, grabbing tools and getting ready to do his makeup (oh, how he wished he can bury his head between your legs)

always always always makes you dye his hair

under the excuse that the other styling team members never gets the turquoise colour quite right

'they can't mix the same colour like you can.' he complains, whining about you rushing off to do kaveh's hair instead of paying attention to him

no, that's a lie, because it literally has nothing to do with hair colours whatsoever

he just thinks that his hair should be only for you to touch and stroke

of course, he's exclusively yours, and only yours

the fans love him - he's lively, he hypes up the concert, he interacts with the fans while singing, leaning over the stage to highfive and take selfies with them

but he's yours, and only yours

stopped doing his braids by himself - must be you that does it!

whines that he can't do it as well as you do, but actually just really enjoys your touch

'ehehe, is this the tint that you use for your cheeks?' he asks, leaning in until you were nose-to-nose, while you are dusting his cheeks with the pretty blush

you don't reply, opting on leaning back to continue doing his makeup

he knew you were only trying your best to convince yourself, because you were staring at him, eyes wide, cheeks flushed, hands shaking slightly

'you always make me look so good on stage, i was wondering how you do that...is it because you use the same things personally? ehehe, i knew it~' he laughs, teal coloured eyes twinkling in feign innocence as he grabs your wrist, tugging you closer to him again

'hey, what flavour is your lip balm today?' he asks, batting his lashes, the rather mischievous glint doesn't leave his eyes as he leans in

but he doesn't wait for you to answer, this little shit guy literally just leans in to sneak a kiss by pressing his lips to yours, relishing the muffled 'mnhm!' of surprise

oh, you are so cute

the fans call him cute, but only if they knew, really, that you are the cutest

you're so sweet - you smell sweet, you and so sweet towards him, and you taste so sweet

your lips taste so sweet (oh, they are strawberry today) - but your cunt tastes even sweeter

he's obsessed with your taste - nose nudging at your clit, tongue eagerly prodding at your entrance, finally delving into your hole when he's had enough of slurping at your arousal

'you taste so sweet.' he groans, the vibrations against your folds drawing another whimper from you

'ven- venti-' you pant, but your voice disappears when he moves his mouth to suck on your clit, 2 dainty fingers slipping into your hole

'fuck- i can do this for hours.' he's almost whining, though really you are the one at his mercy. he was on his knees while you sat on the desk, desperately bucking your hips into his face as he worked his way around your folds

it was so lewd, you think. the loud slurps, your juices and drool dribbling down venti's chin, his whimpers and whines as he buried his face into your crotch as angelic as ever

who, amongst the countless number of fans, would think that their idol who had the most beautiful voice, singing songs that praised innocent, sincere love - would be here, your plush thighs opened wide, muffled whines leaving his mouth as he begged to taste you more?

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wasawattpadkid · 1 year

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Housewife

Part - 1

Summery: Billy and Stu have been planning these murders for quite some time. Everything is going to plan until you show up. What happens when they meet someone who is just as mentally deluded as they are?

Pairing: Poly! ghostface x fem!reader

Warnings for this series: murder, blood, smut (will be more in depth on smut chapters), power dynamics, a dash of sexism, knives, stalking, perverse behavior, cheating,

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19

"Do you have anything you'd like to tell us about yourself?" You hated this. First days were known to be horrible for a reason. Why on earth would you want to tell a room full of strangers some random fact about you? They don't care if you have a pet nor do they want to know why you're here. The room was dead silent waiting for you to hurry up and sit down. "Umm-"

"What's your cup size?" A boy asked making the other kids in the class snicker. The dark-haired boy next to him smiled shaking his head in disapproval. "Steven I'm not doing this with you today, out." Steven groaned already grabbing his books. "But miss-" With a stern point of the finger she spoke again. "Out!" The class once again fell silent and you couldn't possibly feel more uncomfortable. You've done nothing wrong yet within 5 minutes you feel everyone staring at you with disdain.

Once the door closed behind Steven the teacher spoke again. "I'm terribly sorry Y/n. Just take Steven's spot for today and we'll figure the rest out tomorrow." A simple nod was all you could muster. All you had was a pencil in your hand and a bright yellow notebook sitting on top of your new desk. You closed your eyes trying to fast-forward time. This was the last class of the day and it could honestly not be worse. "Don't worry about him he's a dick." The note on your desk read. The boy to your left looked at you then the paper wanting you to send the note back.

With a quick scribble, you handed him the paper. A huffed laugh left his lips as he read "You are what you eat." The note was then crumpled and shoved into his pocket. That seemed to be the end of your conversation with the stranger but you pushed further. Leaning to the side you whisper, "What's your name?" Instead of saying anything he opened up his notebook. The black and white cover was scuffed showing obvious signs of use. He lifted the book showing you the inside. With a single word written in big letters. 'Billy.'

The class went on, no more pleasantries being exchanged. The bell rang signaling the tiring day was over. You were going to say something else to Billy but he was up and gone by the time you looked up. "So much for that." You mumbled as you got up. The movies always showed the new girl getting all the attention. Everyone tries to quickly mold her into their cult-like clique. Maybe it was the dress you were wearing or the way you wore your hair that made you look like a prude. Growing up with your grandparents sets you up for a life of social isolation.

The parking lot was crowded but not crowded enough to not see your bright red car. Just as visible was the short-haired boy sitting on the hood. "Get off my car." You scolded flatly. "Holy shit this is yours!? How'd you get it?" He asked bouncing with joy. "It's my dad's so I don't want you sitting on it. Thanks." You tossed your bags in the car as he continued talking. Just a second ago you were praying Billy would keep up some conversation. Now you're wanting nothing more than to get home. "Man look it's Christine!" He shouted as the girl next to him covered her ears. "Is he always this loud?" She laughed at the question shaking her head up and down. "Unfortunately. I'm Tatum, so you're the new girl everyone's talking about?"

A puzzled look fell over your features. "Who's talking about me?" Before she could answer Billy walks up to the car. "This is nice." His blabbering friend seems disappointed with that answer. "Nice? It's fucking awesome! Can we ride in it?" He turns to beg you. Billy looked over at you raising his eyebrows in silent confusion. "I don't even know you." What part of 'dads' car did he not understand? "I'm Stu, this is Billy."

"We've met." Billy says gesturing towards you. "it's nice to meet you Stu but I don't give rides to strangers." He walks over throwing his arm over your shoulder. Way too much physical contact from someone you don't know. "Well you know my friend Billy and now you know me. I'd say we're all friends here." Tatum rolls her eyes at her friend's antics. "If you two are going to harass this poor woman I'm leaving. I've got to catch up with Sydney. See ya, babe." She blew a kiss at Stu which he caught.

"Pleaseeeee." He begged. Just as Billy was about to intervene you agreed. "Fine but no food, drink, cigarettes, or really anything that could mess up this car. Got it?" You laid out the rules as you climbed into the driver's seat. Stu bit his lip nodding his head. "Yes ma'am. Come on man." Stu said as he jumped in the car. Billy stood awkwardly looking down at his feet. His eyes nervously looked around almost like he was late for something. "Go without me I've got some errands to run." Stu stuck his head out of the window. You tapped the steering wheel impatiently. "Come on man Christine is like your favorite movie." At this, Billy laughed.

"No, I think you're confusing things. A murderous car is definitely more your speed." At this point, you regretted saying yes to Stu. "Please come with us I don't trust him." Stu covered his heart in fake hurt. "If you should be worried about anybody you should worry about Billy." You seriously doubted that. Sure he was quiet and a little unnerving but he might just be shy. "Fuck it." His hands smack his thighs in defeat. Stu loudly rejoices at his friend's surrender. "Get in the back."

You figured Stu would put up a fight considering he was there first. Yet he opened the door with sad eyes and quietly got into the back. It was strange. You weren't sure how long these two had been friends but it was an odd dynamic. "Why do you get to sit next to her?" Stu whined from the back seat. "Because she doesn't trust you." A laugh forced its way from your throat. "Who said I trusted you? According to him, I should be careful around you." You pointed to the man in the back who gladly smiled. Billy propped his arm on the window shaking his head slightly. "I'm sorry but dressed like that you need to be careful with everyone."

"Gotta agree with him on that. You look like Betty Crocker." Stu leaned his head on the seat between you and Billy. "Don't get me wrong it's kinda sexy but still very grandma." With a roll of your eyes, you started the car, hearing the engine purr to life. The boy next to you cracked such a small smile you'd have to catch it on camera for proof that it happened. "This is amazing! I fucking love you, Betty Crocker." Stu kissed you on the cheek making your nose crinkle. At that, Billy actually laughed. Nothing too dramatic though. "Ew can you not touch me at all? Jesus Christ." With one hand on the wheel, you took the other to wipe your cheek.

"Now you see what I put up with," Billy adds. "Oh, so you kiss him too huh?" You drove out of the parking lot heading to the main road. "Only on weekends." Stu shrugged. You giggled but Billy didn't seem to find anything funny. "So what brings you to this hell hole?" He asks still keeping his eyes out the window. "Me and my moved into my grandparent's house after they passed. He found a good job here too so ta-da here I am" Stu leaned forward to press buttons on the dash which you promptly swatted his hand away. "What is your deal with this car?"

Stu seemed shocked you had to even ask. "It's Christine baby! The man-eating car." You blinked a few times a little confused. "You know the John Carpenter film? Came out in 1983. Same guy that directed Halloween with Michael Myers." Billy seemed interested in this conversation more so than others. His whole body seem to turn towards you actively listening to anything you had to say. "Of course, I know Halloween I've just not seen Christine." It was Billy's turn to pick at you. "You're telling me you've never seen Christine but you've got the car?"

He must be brain-dead to think you got a car based on a movie. "This is a 58' Plymouth. It is way older than the Christine movie. I've got the original if you ask me." Stu looked like he was adding numbers to fact-check your math. Billy on the other hand had the same stoic expression on his face. His eyes dragged up and down you seemingly trying to figure out something. "Say where do you two live?" Stu gave out directions to his house without hesitation. "You can just drop me off at his place." You nod in Billy's direction as you focus on the road.

"Why do you dress like this?" Billy picks at the fabric of your dress. It seems no one in this town knows what personal boundaries are. But you guess it beats the awkwardness of a new friendship. With these two it's like you jumped ahead. "I like it." Plain and simple. Billy wasn't buying it either was Stu. "It's more than just that. You know people look at you differently do you get off on that sort of thing?" The question was rude. If you had a backbone of any sort you throw him out of the moving car. Being a people pleaser however made you give him an honest answer. "Maybe. Do I notice when people look at me hatefully? Duh. But at the end of the day, I'm happy they looked at me at all. I mean you both look like every other teenage boy out there. You don't want to stand out?"

Stu liked your answer it was honestly one he could relate to. "No, we like to blend in." That was all Billy said. It was a change from the chattiness before. "Well, what about you Stu?" Billy turned to look back at the boy. Meanwhile he was happy at being included. When it was just him with some girls he could say whatever he felt like. When Billy was around things were different. Just with his eyes he could tell Stu what and what not to say. He didn't mind of course he loved Billy more than he would ever know really. Plus he knew his personality could be a lot for new people. It was nice to have someone to let him know when enough was enough.

"Like he said we like to blend in. We're not big attention whores." He laughed. You don't think the comment was aimed at you but you couldn't help but feel a little hurt by it. "What's your name?" Stu asked while he lay down in the back seat. "Y/n." Billy once again needed more of an answer. "Y/n what?" He was looking for a last name. "Wouldn't you like to know?" Stu's eyes shot back and forth between you two. "I would. That's why I asked."

"Well, you ask too many questions. Unless you're looking to change my last name I don't know why you'd need to know." Billy wasn't mad. Aggravated sure but not mad. You were smart. Not smart enough to tell two psychos to fuck off but smart enough to not hand out personal information easily. He'd have to work for it which he loved to do. "Is your place down this road Stu?" The boy perked up. A little sad that the ride was over. "Yeah just go on down."

"What are you doing this weekend?" Billy asked seeing his window of opportunity was closing. "Nothing much why?" More boring and cryptic answers. "We should come over to your place this weekend seeing as nothing's going on." Billy looked at his friend for backup. "Absolutely! I could bring a copy of Christine and we could get mad wasted!" Billy closed his eyes regretting asking him for anything. "I don't drink. Never had a reason to."

"Well, Ms. Crocker I'm giving you one." Unfortunately for these two you had self-preservation skills. Getting drunk with two men you don't know at your house is not smart. They act like you haven't seen any scary movies. "I'm not getting drunk with you two. I'll think about hanging out this weekend but no drinking. My dad would kill me if he knew I had two dudes in the house let alone drunk dudes." Billy could work with that. Stu was practically jumping at the idea to hang with you. For once he didn't have ulterior motives. He couldn't say the same for his friend who had that gleam in his eye he's seen before.

You pulled into the driveway saying goodbye to your new friends. "See you at school tomorrow?" Billy asked knowing the seat you occupied today would be permanently vacant so you could stay next to him. "Unfortunately. Bye, losers." You waved at the guys ready to get the hell home. The boys watched as you pulled away, the bright red car was easy to follow down the road. "What do you think about her?" Billy asked his friend. "She's alright man. Needs better taste in movies but I can fix that." Billy agreed but something just wasn't sitting right with him. In one day you managed to weasel your way into their lives. He wasn't sure if he wanted to watch movies with you or make you the star of one.

Part 2

A/N: I've been writing for about 5 years now but I'm new to the Scream fandom. I just recently watched the first movie and I can't seem to get these two out of my head so feedback is greatly appreciated! See ya lovelies 💞

#scream #scream 1996 #ghostface #poly!ghostface #billy loomis #stu macher #billy loomis x reader #stu macher x reader #scream fanfic #scream fanfiction #scream x reader #ghostface x reader #housewife #x reader #slashers #slasher x reader #horror

4K notes · View notes

sungbeam · 1 month

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𝐢 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐢 𝐝𝐨!

nonidol!jung wooyoung x f!reader

the one where you're stuck in denial and wooyoung's determined to not be stuck in the friend zone.

7.7k words, fluff, f2l, they've kinda got a banter thing going on, he's in a frat cuz i said so, college au, swearing, kissing, mentions of alcohol and food, pining, obliviousness, jealousy/insecurity if you squint...? (sorry mark), barely proofread, overall pretty wholesome

a/n: okay... wooyo brainrot going hard lately, but anyways, hope u enjoy <3

The horizon glittered like a sea of molten gold when you stepped onto the sandy shores of the beach. Seagulls squawked overhead, riding the setting sky like your friends currently in the surf. You smiled to yourself, inhaling the briny air and slipping the shades off your nose and up onto your head. Your sandals hung limp in your hand as grains of sand embedded themselves into the soles of your bare feet while you jogged down the hill toward the bonfire and crowd of people.

The last week of summer before the fall semester brought your friends to convince you to come to their last bonfire at the beach. It wasn't difficult to persuade you.

“Oy, Yn! Head's up!"

Your eyes shot open and your head whipped up. Sandals fell from your hand as they came up to grab the frisbee out of the sky. It was plastic and blue, with scratches engraved into its surface from thorough use.

Hoots of approval erupted from further down the bank. "Nice catch!" Yeonjun praised as he jogged to meet you in the middle. A light blue Hawaiian shirt hung loose off his lean frame, unbuttoned to display the glorious, toned muscles of his chest.

You grinned, handing him the frisbee before picking your sandals back up. The two of you walked together back towards the group. "Thanks. How're you, Jun?"

He pulled you into a brief, yet affectionate side hug. "I'm great! You?"

"Same here." You had been itching for an outing—and dreading the first day back to class—so this would be good for you. “Who's here today?”

“Ah, y'know, the usuals.” He grinned at you then, sending you a teasing wink. “Your lover boy's here for sure. He wouldn't miss this for the world.”

Your skin warmed at the playful comment and you were failing to pretend it was just because it was hot out here. You rolled your eyes. “He is not my lover boy.”

“Based on the fact you knew who I was talking about though,” he drawled with a singsong tone. He let out a loud guffaw at your less than gruntled expression. “You know, he ditched his frat's annual pool party to be here.”

“That's his prerogative—I don't know how that relates to me,” you said with your palms raised up helplessly.

As you turned around to walk in front of him, Yeonjun wrinkled his nose with a grin. “It's cute when you're in denial.”

You scoffed, backpedaling in the opposite direction to where Changbin was hollering for him to hurry up with the frisbee. “Denial, as if.”

“Whatever you say, Cher,” he snickered, then raised his hand up in goodbye to jog across the sands to the game of frisbee.

You huffed a laugh and shook your head. The sun glared in your eyes as you trudged through the sand toward the sounds of your other friends hollering at you from the barbeque and speaker system set up. You flicked your shades back over your eyes, an easy smile coming to your face. “Hi everyone! Smells delicious over here.”

Chan was stationed at the small, portable barbeque with a bottle of beer in his hand. He smiled as you neared, digging his hand into the cooler beside him to pass you a fresh bottle of hard lemonade. “You're right on time, Yn. Dinner is almost ready.”

“I do believe I have impeccable timing,” you mused, thanking him while accepting the bottle. You dropped your sandals to the sand by your feet so you could free your hands and twist the bottle cap off.

“So glad you could make it, Yn!” Lia chimed in from her spot beneath the beach tent. She and Chaeryeong were lying on their stomachs with books splayed out before them for a light beach read.

“Hey guys! Glad I could make it, too—”

“Oh my god, is that Yn Ln?”

Your head whipped around in the direction of the new voice, and you watched as Felix trudged up the sandy bank with his surfboard under his arm, his free hand brushing back his strands of damp hair.

“Felix Lee, you've been chickening out on me all summer.”

He gave a lazy smile back at you as the two of you clasped hands in greeting, his being cold and wet from the waves and yours dry and gritty with sand. “You say that like you haven't been working all summer. Anyways, there's someone who's been dying to see you even more than me.”

You could spot the impish mischief in the blond's eyes from a mile away. “I feel like everyone's been telling me the same thing, but I haven't seen Wooyoung anywhere.”

“First time she says my name, and it's not even to my face,” came a dramatic sigh from somewhere behind you.

The organ in your chest kicked into action and you turned to face the newcomer bounding toward the group from up the hill where the parking lot was. He was clad in a pair of board shorts and a tank top, his skin glowing in the golden afternoon light. “Speak of the Devil,” you jested, poking your tongue into your cheek as you smiled.

Jung Wooyoung peered at you from over the rim of his sunglasses as they slipped down the slope of his nose, then pushed them up to nestle in his locks of dark brown hair. “That nickname's a new one.”

“It's an expression, Jung,” you said, eyebrow arched.

He gave yet another melodramatic sigh. “And she's back to the last name-calling. Would it kill you to try a 'sweetheart’ or a 'darling’ one of these days?”

“I think Yn would rather go into cardiac arrest before calling you by your first name, mate,” Felix gave a warm laugh as he sidled up beside his friend, propping his arm up onto Wooyoung's shoulder.

You lifted your bottle of lemonade in salute. “Lix, you are not wrong. Where've you been anyways, Jung?”

“Did you hear that? She cares about my whereabouts,” he gasped in giddy delight, palm over his mouth as if he and Felix were co conspirators. “I'll have you know, Ln, that Hyunjin and I were scouting for ice cream carts, but he had a phone call to take so I came back here.”

You gave a pleasant hum, knocking back a sip of the spiked lemonade. “An ice cream cart? A man after my own heart.”

“Took you that long to notice?”

You weren't given much time to ponder on that statement before everyone's attention turned to Chan, who announced that it was finally time to eat. By some miraculous force of nature, Hyunjin heard Chan's call, too, and came barreling down the hill toward base camp a few moments later. The frisbee was laid to rest, the books were marked for later, and the bonfire was set ablaze.

With delicious eats and favored company, the lot of you gathered around with one another to have dinner and watch the sun slowly sink into the horizon line. It was the perfect cap to a long and warm summer.

A few hours later, when the sun had only just disappeared from view to leave the sky a lingering shade of hazy orange, you settled beside Lia, Chaeryeong, and Yeonjun on one side of the fire pit while Chan sat on his stool with a ukulele he kept in his backseat. (You were pretty sure that ukulele lived in his backseat at this rate. Once, you saw him buckle the thing with its own seatbelt. To each their own, you supposed.)

“So Wooyoung-ah,” drawled Changbin from his perch beside Hyunjin, as the two of them plucked chips out of the same bag, “did Hongjoong say if movie night was confirmed for next Friday?”

All eyes flickered over to Wooyoung expectantly, and you found yourself meeting his gaze as his own flitted from your eyes and back to Changbin. “I’m pretty sure we're still on for Friday, yeah. All of you better be there,” he said pointedly, his finger drawing over the group.

“What time is it again?” Yeonjun asked as he shoved a marshmallow into his cheek. You smiled to yourself and poked at it, making him send an adorable scowl your way.

Wooyoung pursed his lips. “Ah… it should start around nine o'clock. But make sure you guys text me first so I can let you in. Sometimes the pledges don't care to ask before collecting fees at the door.”

Nods and murmurs of agreement resounded from around the group. Each one of you had your own experience with getting hassled for entry fee at the ATZ fraternity door before Wooyoung or one of his frat brothers came to collect you. You remembered Felix once joking about having all of your names on a list or something.

“Ln, you're coming, aren't you?” Wooyoung nodded at you from across the bonfire. He leaned his elbows onto his knees, his fine features illuminated by the fires.

Your pulse skipped. “Hm? Oh, uhm, yeah I'm pretty sure.”

A smile curled onto his lips. “Good.”

From beside you, Yeonjun lightly smacked the back of his hand against your shoulder. “Hey, you should totally invite that guy from our Econ class—y’know from last quarter—?”

Your eyebrows creased. “Mark?”

“Who's Mark?” The question Wooyoung posed was innocent, but you couldn't help hyperfixate on the way he tilted his head and pressed his lips together.

And for some reason, you wanted to clear this up. “Mark from Econ,” you said. “He, Jun, and I used to sit with each other during class. I dunno if he'd wanna come with…” You somewhat kept in touch with Mark over the summer, but it wasn't like the two of you hung out solo or anything.

Yeonjun shoved another marshmallow into his mouth, but still spoke through it, “Mawk's cool doe. I fink he iked you.”

“Ooh, someone had a crush on you, Yn?” Hyunjin snickered.

You wrinkled your nose at him. “He did not have a crush on me; he was just nice.”

“You should invite him anyway!” Chaeryeong piped up as she leaned over you and Lia to steal a marshmallow from Yeonjun's bag. The owner of said bag watched the stolen marshmallow get swallowed whole with wide eyes. “More the merrier.”

“As long as Woo lets him in,” Felix muttered into his plastic cup so his words were slightly muffled. You didn't hear what he said, but you saw Wooyoung whack him and induce a Felix-standard fairy giggle.

You reached into Yeonjun's marshmallow bag, pretending he wasn't gawking at you with even wider eyes to guilt you into not taking his precious. “Okay, I will ask, but no promises.”

“Who the fuck is Mark from Econ?”

San barely glanced up from what he was reading and he flipped the page to the tune of Wooyoung's rapid pacing of their shared room. “He's from Econ, I'm guessing.”

Wooyoung stopped in the middle of the open space between their beds, hands braced on their hips. He had just gotten home from the bonfire after having dropped off Hyunjin, Yeonjun, and Changbin at their apartment. When he'd arrived home to the ATZ fraternity on Greek Row, he had not been surprised to find nearly everyone still awake, even at one in the morning.

San, as always, had his nose buried in a bout of nightly reading. He claimed it helped him sleep better, but how could it if he sometimes stayed up until five in the morning because he was so invested?

“That's very helpful, thanks,” Wooyoung deadpanned.

His friend spared him a glance from over the book's edge. Then after one peak at his sorry state, San sighed and stuck an old receipt into the book to mark it for later. “Did they mention a last name? Mark who?”

Wooyoung waved his hand around. “Agh, I dunno. Yeonjun said in the car ride home something about a Mark Lee…”

San blinked, head tilting to the side in thought. “Mark Lee? Like the Mark Lee from NCT down the street?”

For a moment, Wooyoung only stared with furrowed brows, allowing the information presented to process through his brain. When it hit him, it was clear as day. He groaned, dragging his palms down his face as he plopped down on the edge of his bed. “We can't let him into Friday's movie night, Sannie.”

“And why not? He's a nice dude.”

“That is exactly why we can't let him in!” At the way San's face arranged itself into the epitome of confusion, Wooyoung waved his hands around in a manic craze. “If he gets cozy with Yn, my chances are ruined.”

San gave up; he picked up his book again. “Sounds like a skill issue.”

“Movie night? Dark setting? Sharing blankets? Fairy lights overhead?” Wooyoung flopped onto his back and glared at the ceiling. It was the perfect way to get closer to you if he could somehow make it not weird since you were almost always with one of your other friends. This could arguably be his big breakthrough with you; it had all of the makings of a romantic night… as long as everything went right.

He just needed to be absolutely sure that your feelings and his feelings were on the same page.

San sighed, the book flopping onto his lap. “Why can't you just—I don't know—insert yourself?” He made a motion with his arm, his dimples digging into his cheeks as he pressed his lips together in a deadpan, arm jutting straightforward. “Insert. Like… insert.”

Wooyoung craned his head up from his position. “Like—insert?”

“Insert,” San affirmed. “She sits down, and you sit down next to her before anyone else can. Easy.”

“So you want me to be a parasite?”

San scoffed and fixed Wooyoung with a pointed look. “If you're not going to tell her to her face that you like her—”

“Parasitism, it is!”

As the days grew closer to the ATZ frat's annual fall movie night, you had to admit that you might have been severely procrastinating on extending an invitation to Mark. Mark was, by all counts, a nice guy. He was a good guy, in fact. But it wasn't like the two of you were buddy-buddy with each other, as Yeonjun made it sound like to everyone else. It was the equivalent of your mom asking you to invite your neighbor to your birthday party—they were nice enough, but you weren't close enough to ensure this wouldn't be awkward.

Plus, you couldn't get this sticky feeling out of the back of your mind about Yeonjun claiming Mark liked you. There was no problem, per se, with a guy liking you. It was just that… you weren't interested in him like that. You also didn't want other people thinking that you were interested in him either, and getting the wrong idea.

You tried to convince yourself that you weren't interested in anyone at the moment, but you knew, deep in your heart of hearts, that wasn't true. You just didn't want to admit it. (A tragedy, indeed.)

When the first Friday night of the university term rolled around, you and your friends pulled up outside the ATZ frat house without Mark Lee. You'd admitted to them that it was awkward, so the subject was easily brushed away. There was nothing they could do about it now, anyway.

When they strolled up to the entryway, Yeonjun told the pledges at the front that they were with Wooyoung. As per protocol, they forced you all to wait outside until Wooyoung could get there from wherever he was within the house. You could hear the music thumping from the backyard, along with chatter and laughter, all from people waiting for the movie night to start.

You shivered as you hugged your arms around your body, a cool autumn breeze blowing past. “Damn, I should've brought a jacket,” you laughed, hopping around from foot to foot to stay warm. Or maybe you should've worn a sweater rather than a T-shirt over your pajama shorts.

Lia perked up. “Oh! I think I have o—”

Felix's eyes widened as he interjected, “No, you don't!”

Everyone passed Felix a strange look, especially you and Lia. Curiously, you watched as Felix seemingly communicated with Lia in silent, urgent facial expressions before smiling at you like his regular, ray-of-sunshine self.

You blinked. What in the world…?

Lia turned back toward you with an apologetic wince on her face. “I think I took my jacket out of the backseat before I left the house. Sorry, Yn.”

“Oh, that's okay,” you assured her. “I'll, uh, probably steal Chan's blanket or something once we get settled.”

Wooyoung appeared at the door moments later, a lollipop stick between his teeth and a cozy dark blue hoodie on his frame. Like many others here tonight, he was in a pair of pajama pants and fluffy slippers. “Hey guys! Come on in.”

Thankful for the excellent timing, you all slipped inside the front doors of the frat to get to the backyard. The movie night was usually held in the backyard space just because it could hold more people. The movie was then projected against the back of the house with an old projector that was apparently passed down from generation to generation of the frat. There was oftentimes a table to the side that was stocked with snacks and booze for all those attending.

Wooyoung led the group of you out into the backyard, specifically to a spot with a decent view, already laid out with picnic blankets and regular blankets. “Tada!” He exclaimed with jazz hands, catching the amused gaze of others nearby. “I reserved a spot for all of us!”

“Without permission!” Somebody—you recognized Yunho's teasing grin from over by the snack table—yelled.

“Seonghwa hyung said I could!” Wooyoung shot back in proper little sibling fashion. He stuck one of his hands into his pockets and took his lollipop out. “Anyways, help yourselves!”

“This is really cool of you, dude,” Changbin said as he bumped Wooyoung's fist and settled on one corner of the setup.

Chan hobbled over toward Changbin. “Yeah, man. We really appreciate it.”

You murmured your own thanks to Wooyoung as you passed by him to decide on where to sit.

His eyes flickered over your form, noting the way you used your palms to keep your arms warm. “Hey, Ln.”

“Jung,” you mused back.

“You didn't bring a jacket?” He asked incredulously. “It's gonna get colder tonight.”

Sheepishness washed over you and you scratched your head with an embarrassed smile. “I'll be fine under the blankets.”

He shook his head, dissatisfaction clear on his face, as he stuck his lollipop back into his mouth and began shouldering off his jacket.

Your eyes widened when you realized what he was doing. “Hey, wait—I’ll be fine—”

Wooyoung held out the jacket to you, eyebrows lifting in silent communication. 'Put it on.’

You pursed your lips and considered it for a moment. You knew that he was right and it was going to get colder later tonight. You could only bring the blanket up so far… Slowly, you slipped into it with his help, and your upper body was immediately grateful for the warmth.

Wooyoung spun you around to face him again, swiftly reaching for the zipper at the bottom to zip you up.

“Oh, you don't have to—” You shut up with one look from him. You could feel your skin begin to warm, not just because of the residual heat from Wooyoung's body heat on the jacket. You weren't exactly used to this, but you also weren't going to complain. This article of clothing smelled sinfully good—was that his cologne or how he always smelled?

When you were all zipped up, his lips pressed into a content smile. “I'm gonna go grab another jacket. I'll be right back,” he said, throwing a thumb back in the direction of the house.

Based on the fact he was only wearing a tank top underneath the jacket you now wore, you nodded vigorously. “Yeah, of course,” you stammered. “Thanks.”

His smile widened. “No problem, Yn. You look good in it.”

You didn't get another word in because he was darting across the backyard and disappearing inside the house before you could. You were sure you looked as flustered as you felt, and you slowly sank onto the blanket set up beside Chaeryeong and Lia.

From down the line, you could feel your friends’ eyes and wagging brows.

“Don't say anything,” you said to them, pulling your knees to your chest and pretending you weren't in heaven from how nice the jacket felt and smelled. (Oh god, were you being weird about this?)

A snort from Hyunjin.

Felix giggled. “Not a single word.”

By the time Wooyoung returned, Hongjoong was beginning to fire up the movie of choice tonight (Parasite—how fitting) and the backyard had been substantially populated.

Though there was no Mark Lee tonight to be a paradise about, Wooyoung settled on the other side of Chaeryeong who was right beside you. There was a bucket of popcorn per every three or so of you. You dipped into the bucket closest to you, which was the one in front of Chaeryeong.

At some point during the movie, Chaeryeong raised her head from where she was resting against your shoulder and searched the area around you. “Hey,” she whispered to you, “my friend from the Delta sorority is over there and I'm gonna go say hi.”

You nodded. “Sounds good.”

As she clambered to her feet, you met Wooyoung's eyes from her other side. He had tugged his own hood over his head, so only his bangs hung out of it. He nodded toward Chaeryeong in question: ‘Where’s she going?’

“Just a friend,” you answered quietly.

From your other side, you heard Lia make a small gasping sound. “Ooh, I'm gonna say hi, too!”

When both of them had cleared out, you craned your head around to see if you recognized the Delta they went to greet. You did not, and so you stayed put.

It didn't take long for you to realize that you were pretty sure Lia and Chaeryeong were over there for much more than a hello, which was completely fine—you were simply going to hog all of their blanket space—

A throat cleared on your left side, and you watched Wooyoung take the shared popcorn bucket and scoot over into where Chaeryeong was sitting next to you. “So we can reach easier,” he reasoned, shoveling a handful of buttered kernels into his mouth.

You couldn't and didn't argue with that. Though, you were unsure of how fast your heart was beating now that you and he were shoulder to shoulder, leg to leg.

But you turned your attention back to the movie because obviously there was nothing wrong with this. There was absolutely nothing about sitting this close to Wooyoung that was making you flustered—

You jolted when your hand touched his in the popcorn bucket, both of you having blindly reached in.

Your eyes met in the dark again, and you hoped he couldn't see just how affected you were by the touch. “Sorry,” you whispered, withdrawing your hand swiftly.

“No, it's okay,” he murmured back, a small lift in the corner of his lips. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

When the movie reached its inevitable conclusion, it was nearing midnight. Though the projector was turned off, there were plenty of people still lingering to chat and drink. You wiped your hands on a napkin and smeared on a dollop of hand sanitizer that Chan usually kept in his pocket. (The crazy man was always prepared.)

Lia and Chaeryeong eventually came back to the group, but you and Wooyoung scooted over so they could sit next to each other on your right. Your arm was still pressed to his arm, and you still kept his jacket on. It had done a brilliant job at keeping you warm tonight; you were dreading parting with it.

“Can we help you guys clean up or anything?” You asked him as you passed him Chan's bottle of hand sanitizer to use.

He hummed, “Uh, I think we should be okay. We'll probably just end up leaving half of it out to clean up in the morning anyway.”

You nodded, taking the hand sanitizer back from him so you could pass it down the assembly line to Chan.

“Oh, by the way,” Wooyoung piped up. “Whatever happened to that Mark guy you were gonna invite?”

You paused, cupping the back of your neck. “Ah… yeah, I didn't actually invite him,” you admitted. “I just thought it would be awkward 'cause we're not really that close.”

He bobbed his head in understanding. “I see, I see. So what Yeonjun said about him…?”

“Your first mistake was listening to Yeonjun.”

Two people down, you heard a squawk of indignation. “Hey! I heard that!”

A chuckle rang out amongst your group. Changbin and Chan's end of the blanket mass suddenly began standing up, the former of which was propping up a half-conscious Felix, citing needs to get the blond to bed. The rest of you wholeheartedly agreed and joined them, empty popcorn buckets in hand to deposit back at the snack table.

As soon as your bare legs hit the cold night air, you gazed forlornly at the blanket you'd been using before. “Jung, let me give you back your jacket,” you said, catching his attention before he wandered off.

But instead of waiting for you to take off the garment, he placed a hand over yours to stop you from unzipping it. “Keep it,” he said.

“Keep it?” You parroted back dumbly.

He broke into a smile. “Yeah, it'll keep you warm until you get home.”

For a moment, you could only stare. Was he always this pretty? Or was it just the fairy lights that were turned on overhead? You swallowed, your lips curling into a small smile back. “Oh okay—thanks. I'll get it back to you as soon as possible.”

“Whatever you say,” he chuckled and reached over to pat your head. The action made a jolt of warmth run down your spine from your head to your toes. Maybe you were just tired.

Saturday night, you found yourself jostling around in the crowd of all the other late night snackers at the fast food chain a few blocks from the stadium. The first college football game of the season had just ended, and all of your friends who had gone agreed to get a bite to eat afterward. It seemed, however, that nearly everyone else at the game had the same idea.

The establishment was packed to the brim, at least the ordering area was. Your friends had gone outside to score one of the picnic benches for your group, while you, Changbin, and Felix were stuck here to order. (It was all because the three of you sorely lost a game of rock, paper, scissors, and now your wallet would pay, quite literally.) Servers behind the counter hollered out order numbers, and plastic trays of burgers, fries, milkshakes, and grease passed hands.

Your mouth was already watering; cheering and screaming for three hours was a good way to make yourself famished. “Do we have everyone's orders?” You asked your friends, sticking your head in the open space between their shoulders.

Changbin flashed you the group text. “If it's not here, they're starving.”

“Amen to that,” Felix grunted, shaking his bangs out of his eyes and scrolling through his social media fees. “I think Hyunjin and Yeonjun purposely ordered the triple cheeseburger and loaded fries to break our banks.”

“We need to watch that WikiHow video on winning rock, paper, scissors,” you said. The three of you sighed altogether—next time, you wouldn't rely on just luck to get you through something so high stakes.

“You guys look like we just lost the actual game,” mused a familiar voice behind you.

Wooyoung appeared at your side, elbow propped onto your shoulder, accompanied by a couple of his frat brothers, San and Jongho. Wooyoung had a university branded cap over his head with a pair of cherry red heart glasses seated up on the bill, a bit of school spirit in the form of black and red. “I see you lost rock, paper, scissors, Ln.”

You scowled. Of course he knew how you ended up here. After all, he was subjected to it whenever he hung out with your group of friends. “Do you wanna take over my share of the bill, Jung?”

“Do I get something in return?”

“I don't know, your jacket?”

He grinned. “Oh, so you weren't planning on just giving it back to me?”

“I will gladly keep it if you don't want it. She's in the dryer right now,” you shot back. At some point, your heart had kicked up in your chest again, perhaps at the proximity of Wooyoung to you. There wasn't much space in here as it was.

The line scooted up about two centimeters, and Wooyoung's eyebrows shot up in amusement. “You’re washing it after wearing it once? Or maybe you've been wearing it for the past twelve hours and you're just not telling me.”

You ignored the warmth creeping up your neck. “It's called being courteous.”

“It's called wasting water,” he teased, the elbow on your shoulder shifting to an arm slung around both of your shoulders.

“Oh please. It's being washed with the rest of my clothes!” You exclaimed in your defense as you grew more flustered.

Something giddy lit up on his face as the group of you moved up closer to the register. “So that jacket's gonna smell like you? I might not ever wash it again, Ln.”

It was an unholy amount of time later that you, your friends, and the frat trio finally made it out of the stuffy fast food restaurant with your massive order. Instead of a picnic bench, however, it seemed that both your friends and Wooyoung's were exiled to the curb by the street. The sight was rather laughable—around fifteen or so people seated on the firelane like a line of abandoned ducklings.

Everyone practically swarmed the to-go bags that you and your friends deposited in the grass. You picked up one of the cartons of fries for yourself, standing just outside the circle that had formed.

Mingi was recalling one of the plays from tonight's game with vivid acting when you heard your name being called from down the road.

Curious, your eyes tracked the sound, only to see a group of fraternity guys making their way towards you from the direction of Greek Row. Among them, it was Mark Lee that you recognized first in a red bomber jacket and backwards cap. His cheeks were flushed and eyes twinkled like a pair of diamond earrings.

“YN LN! IS THAT YOU?” He giggled, and you just knew that the poor guy was drunk off his face.

One of his friends with a bunny-looking face grappled onto his arm with a groan. “Sorry! He was double-dared to take one too many shots by this bastard,” he said when they neared and cut a glare to one of the tall boys behind him. Said tall boy whistled, pretending not to hear him.

Yunho cupped his hands around his mouth and gave a loud holler. “Aye, N-City! Jungwoo, where the hell have you been, man?"

“It’s called the engineering program, bro,” the one you assumed to be Jungwoo grumbled. He hobbled over to where Yunho was seated in the circle and knocked his fist against the latter's. “Oh my god, can I steal a fry? That line over there looks awful.”

Mingi lifted his tray of fries up for Jungwoo to pluck a few.

Mark, with the supervision of his bunny friend, scuttled over toward you. “Fries sound so good, dude. Like bro. BRO. I am so hungry.” He giggled again as you extended your fries out to him in amusement. “Thanks, Yn. Do I still owe you for coffee that one time?” He slurred, shoving the slices of potato into his mouth.

You chuckled, offering his friend some fries, but was quietly rejected. “Coffee? That was like, once, Mark. Don't worry about it.”

“I know, but like—like, I keep thinking about it, y'know,” he confessed. In the streetlight, you could see his cherry red cheekbones… almost the color of Wooyoung's glas—what. Where did that thought come from?

Absent-mindedly, your eyes flickered across the circle to where you knew Wooyoung was seated with his brothers. To your surprise, you found him already staring your way.

“—it’d be cool to get coffee again sometime, and be friends! I almost took the next econ class in the series 'cause of you.”

“Oh, really?” You asked, forcing yourself back to the people in front of you and being unable to suppress a giggle. You were touched by the sentiment, and frankly, relieved to hear that you and he were pretty much on the same page about being friends. “The next class in the series is kind of ass though, so I'm glad you aren't gonna have to suffer through it.”

“Aw, but we're all in this together!” He chirped.

His friend gave Mark a small pat on his arm. “We should get a move on before the crowds get worse.”

Mark's eyes widened and he gasped. “You're right, hyung!”

“See you, guys,” you said with a small wave. The two boys threw a similarly warm goodbye to you as they slipped past you and toward the jam-packed fast food joint you had braved just earlier.

Across the wide social circle, Wooyoung couldn't hear exactly what yours and Mark's conversation entailed because of all the chatter. Sue him for being caught staring at you, but he couldn't keep his eyes off you, as per usual. There was a familiar pang in his chest as he watched you bid Mark and Doyoung from the NCT fraternity goodbye, and he mindlessly finished off the tray of fries in front of him.

Although you technically implied to him last night that there was nothing between you and Mark, there was undoubtedly a part of him that still felt jittery at the thought.

There was a nudge against his arm. “Glare even harder, and Mark might wake up with a pair of holes in the back of his head.”

Wooyoung moved his scowl to San beside him, a snicker falling from his best friend's mouth. “I'm not glaring,” Wooyoung protested and reached for a napkin in the middle of the circle.

“Oh, right,” San drawled, “you're staring at Yn.”

“Yes, and?” He shot back. “What'd'you think they were talking about?” He could practically hear the sound of your giggles in his ears after Mark said something. Wooyoung didn't like the way that made his stomach churn—the fact that this other guy was making you laugh. Did he make you laugh like that? Did you look that radiant when you were with him? God, why did you have to be so gobsmackingly gorgeou—

San considered him for a moment as he chewed on the bite of his burger. “Why don't you ask her yourself?” He muttered with a vague gesture of his aioli-covered fingers, “I dunno, go offer to drive her home or something.”

“That's the first good idea I've heard all night.” Wooyoung hopped to his feet, a misshapen plan (of sorts) manifesting in his head. Hopefully it would work out better than the movie night one. (But by some metrics, he could consider movie night a success…)

San exhaled under his breath as his friend went to go find a trash can first. “Can't believe he actually went with that,” he said with a shake of his head. He could only hope now that his friend would finally put himself out of his misery.

Having finished your post-game snack, drowsiness was slowly seeping into your joints and the corners of your eyes. It was bound to be nearing midnight at this time, and with all of the excitement within the past two days, you were about ready to head back.

You swept your eyes over the group to gauge if any of your other friends looked about ready to go home, too, when you felt someone tap your shoulder.

“Can I give you a lift home?” Wooyoung asked as he stood there, cap and glasses hanging from his hand while the other carded through his hair.

Well. “It's like you read my mind, Jung,” you mused. “Do you and your brothers not usually carpool though?”

“Eh, Hongjoong hyung brought the minivan.”

You didn't know why that comment made you laugh—perhaps it was the image of a bunch of ATZ frat members shoved into a soccer mom minivan with Hongjoong at its helm—but a laugh most definitely tumbled from your lips. The sound and sight reflected in Wooyoung's expression, a boyish grin coming to his face and reaching his eyes. “Alright, fine. As long as by taking me home, you aren't abandoning them on the streets.”

The two of you began walking side by side to where he would lead you back toward wherever his car was parked. “Nah,” he reassured you with a shake of his head. He took his cherry heart glasses and slid them up into his hair. “A nice walk home might keep them humble, y'know?”

“And who's to say you don't need humbling, Jung?” You joked.

A smirk curled up on his mouth like a cat's tail. “What? Are you going to humble me, Ln?”

You gave a nonchalant shrug to cover up the rapid pulse hammering away in your veins. “I could finesse your keys, you never know.”

He motioned to the left where his sedan was parked along the side of the street. “I'll have you know that you already have one of my keys,” he said as he rounded his car to reach the driver's seat.

You crinkled your brows together, your hand lingering on the door to the passenger's seat as he fished his keys out to unlock the car. “What key?”

“The key to my heart,” he winked, smile widening.

You glanced away, tongue jamming into your cheek to suppress your flustered smile, but by the sounds of Wooyoung's glee from the other side of the car, you were unsuccessful. “You tell that to all the girls?” You finally said when the car chirped and you slipped into the passenger's seat.

Your car doors slammed in tandem.

“Nope, that one's just for you,” he said, tossing his hat in the back and starting the engine.

The fluttery feeling in your chest was making it difficult for you to sit still. If you were so enraptured by his scent clinging to the fabric of his jacket, then his car must have been level two. Your body melted into the car seat, and you turned your head to watch the world pass through the window with a content expression on your face.

There had been something gnawing at you for a while now. You knew Wooyoung boasted a rather flirty personality; he had always been pretty outgoing and teasing ever since you met. There were so many signs that pointed to him liking you more than just a friend, but you didn't want to jump to conclusions. (Denial? What was that?)

Was this different from when Yeonjun suggested that Mark liked you? Well, yes. This was different because you… it was different because this was Wooyoung, not Mark. It was different because you were suddenly marinating on the idea of him liking you, and not dismissing it like you had with Mark.

You were growing giddy at the idea, in fact. And maybe that made you nervous.

A thought appeared in your head. “Oh, I guess it's a good thing you're taking me home, because now I can give you back your jacket.” For a moment, you deeply considered casually “forgetting” to return the garment, but your integrity won out.

You saw him glance over at you before returning his eyes to the road. “Right, right. Good idea,” he murmured. He ran his teeth over his bottom lip then. “Hey, uhm, weird question.”

“Uh oh,” you joked.

He chuckled. “Yah, it's not an 'uh oh!’ I was just wondering what Mark came to talk to you about.”

Oh. That wasn't exactly what you had in mind when he said he had a weird question.

Your eyes flickered over to him for a second. “You seem awfully interested in me and Mark,” you drawled, uncertain of where this was going.

“I mean—I know you said last night that you guys aren't that close,” he supplemented, tongue swiping over his lip as he turned the corner onto your street, “but he seemed pretty friendly tonight.”

“Mark’s always friendly,” you pointed out. Part of it was just so you could prod a little and figure out why Wooyoung was pursuing this.

“You're not wrong.”

Your head tilted to the side. “So?”

“So?”

You let out a small laugh. “Hey, Jung, what's going on? You're usually not so antsy about these things, especially not with me.” You chewed on the inside of your cheek and your fingers drummed mindlessly against your thigh in anticipation.

Wooyoung glanced over at you again, his lips pressing together. He was entering your apartment complex street now and carefully pulled up along the curb outside. “I would argue that it's the complete opposite.”

“Huh?”

“You can't possibly think that this whole time I haven't been head over heels for you?” He blurted.

Even if the car had stopped, your heart rate most definitely hadn't.

At your loss for words, he killed the engine. “Like, you think I stare at you for fun? No, actually, I stare at you because I'm literally just so attracted to you, it's survival.”

You sucked in a breath. “Jung…”

“And you know, I try to be as obvious as I can, but maybe I'm not? And I'm—I’m trying to be as loud about my feelings as possible,” he continued on, adding in an accompaniment of sweeping hand gestures. “Without actually admitting to my feelings, as stupid as it sounds.”

“Jung. Jung, wait—”

“This wasn't supposed to turn into a ramble, but what I'm trying to say is—”

“Wooyoung.”

He screeched to a halt, eyes widened as if you'd just grown two heads.

Oh, you were so endeared by this man. In this snapshot of time, there was nothing other than utter adoration in your heart for him. “You were probably being very loud, but I'm also hard of hearing sometimes.”

“Extremely,” he agreed with his mouth pressed into a line.

“Hey!”

He broke into a grin that was soft at the corners and tender at the eyes. “Just so you know, I don't treat anyone else like you. You're probably the only person I will ever address by their last name as a term of endearment.”

You laughed, skin warming to the touch. “I'll admit—same here.” A jolt of electricity warmed down your spine at the admission.

“I can't persuade you to even try a 'honey’ or a ‘baby?’ Not even a 'sweetie pie?’”

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Maybe you'll unlock some of them as time goes on. It has to feel right.”

He leaned forward onto the center console, a small, happy sigh falling from his mouth. “Okay,” he said quietly. “I can deal with that.”

In reply, you twisted around in your seat to face him, your head leaned against the car seat. “Just so we're clear though…”

“I like you—I do.”

“Good.” Your lips curled into a smile. “I like you, too.”

In the low light of the car, the sky darkened and the only light coming from the streetlight a few cars away, you and Wooyoung shared a soft moment together. The thing that had been needling at the back of your mind was finally subsiding.

Swallowing, you reached forward to brush a strand of hair out of his eyes, and his eyes seemed to shudder. “Yeonjun once called you my lover boy.”

“I'm pretty sure all of our friends knew how I felt,” he snorted.

You made a small gesture with your shoulder, wincing. “Except for me?”

“Except for you,” he sighed jokingly. “Utter pain. But you know what?”

“What's that?”

“I think I like being your lover boy.”

You slowly nodded. “It has a nice ring to it.” You couldn't help another smile as you rolled it over and over in your mind. Your lover boy, your lover boy, your lover boy… “My lover boy.”

Wooyoung pressed his palms together like he was praying, his hands touching his lips. “Give me the strength—I can't not kiss you after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

Your heart gave an aggressive palpitation. “Well… I wouldn't be opposed.”

“Hey, lover girl,” he said, mouth split open with a pretty grin, “can I kiss you?”

How could you refuse?

He leaned forward and cradled one side of your face with one hand so he could press his lips against your own. If there was any doubt left in your mind about how you felt for him, it was all dashed away once he kissed you.

When your eyes fluttered open, you met his gaze.

“I think,” he murmured, thumb drawing over your bottom lip, “I just fell for you all over again.

God, how could you compete with that line? You ducked your head, unabashedly flustered. He only cooed at your reaction and came forward to smack a long kiss to your cheek.

When it was determined that you would finally head up to your apartment for the evening, you reluctantly clambered out of his vehicle. He rolled down his window so he could drape himself out of it like a damsel in a tower, his eyes shaped like hearts.

“Is it safe to say that I can keep your jacket?” You jested, stopping in front of his window.

He huffed a laugh. “You know, I thought you'd never ask. But you'll have to trade me for something of yours.”

“Deal, Jung.” You were certain you could think of something.

a/n: pls remember to reblog + comment if u enjoyed <3

atz m.list

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faeriekit · 27 days

Text

Snow Day

SO IT TURNS OUT @tourettesdog also had a far-frozen based Phic Phight prompt so here's a sister fic of Snowdrift Sanctuary from yesterday okay please and thank you

Tundra peeked around the pillar of ice. Again.

The human was still there.

…Tundra peeked left. Tundra peeked right. No one else had seen them yet.

The human, in a big coat and big boots was squatting in the snow, drawing shapes Tundra couldn’t make out with their finger.

Tundra’s tail wagged. Well. He didn’t have a very long tail, so he mostly butt-wiggled. There’d never been a human at the Far Frozen before!! Tundra had heard of humans — he’d seen depictions and heard stories, sure. But now a human was here. And they lived here.

That was so cool.

So, maybe Tundra wanted to say hi! So what? Mama had said that he should be nice to the human, since they needed help and shelter that the Chief would provide, but they were also new and interesting and they hardly ever had anyone stay with them who wasn’t a yeti ever!! Maybe they’d let Tundra play with them while they were here?

So Tundra got down on his haunches. He crawled over the snowbank, wriggling as he went, taking advantage of his coat that blended into the terrain.

The human didn’t see him at all.

Tundra bared his teeth in a play grin, eyes squinting, tongue caught between his teeth. The human was so close. He crouched down as far as he could. He waited until the human wasn’t looking.

Tundra pounced.

And then there was a flash of green burning through the air, hot and bright and loud. Tundra startled.

He landed in the snow, dazed and off-balance. He could feel a hot spot in his fur—putting his paw to it, Tundra could feel where his fur was burnt to singed ends, the tips of each hair bulbous with char.

There was a steaming hole in the snow behind him.

…Oh.

“HOLY SH—are you okay?? Did I hurt you?? I’m sorry!!” someone shouted. Someone gently turned Tundra’s head, careful not to move him too harshly or too quickly. “Is your head okay? Are you bleeding? Is—“

“…Cool.” Tundra muttered, eyes still stuck to the hole in the snow. That was so strong. Even Avalanche wasn’t that strong, and she beat everyone in the tournament last season. No wonder the chief was in charge of the human ghost, even if there were lots of adults willing to help.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry,” the human apologized again, hands on their flat, pink face. Huh. Their hair was white now. When did that happen? “Usually when ghosts sneak up on me, they’re, uh… they’re not usually playing.”

Tundra looked at the human’s flat face and frowned. They got attacked? For real, and not for playing? “That’s mean. I hope you got them.”

The human made a strangled noise. Super weird! “Yeah…yeah. I did.”

“Good,” Tundra decided, back straightening straight up. The human was about as tall as he was, but humans were smaller in general. They were probably older. “If anyone attacks you now, you should get the Chief to eat them, and then they won’t attack you anymore.”

The human made another choked noise. Tundra assumed it was a laugh. He grinned back, pleased with the response, and wriggled back upright. “I’m Tundra! Mama says that you’re older than me even though we’re just as tall as each other! Are you a boy human, or a girl human? Or neither? Or both?!”

“…I’m a boy,” the human said, voice weak. Tundra peered in close at him, trying to see if he’d been injured too, but no; he looked fine, and he got his black hair back too.

“Cool,” said Tunda. “So am I. Arctic is too, but he’s big already, so he doesn’t want to play all the time. Do you like hunting?”

“I’ve…never hunted before.”

Not ever? Tundra gasped. “We can play chase, then, and then the chief can teach you how to hunt! And then we can hunt together!” Tundra scrambled to his feet, excited. “Do you want to stalk Avalanche with me?! She always throws me off, and then we can wrestle!”

The human hesitated.

“Or,” Tundra amended, because the human was still kind of small, “You can watch me stalk Avalanche, and watch us wrestle, and then I can teach you to stalk the chief so that you can wrestle with someone you know is safe.”

The human snorted, the fur cuff from his sleeve hiding his face. “I don’t know…isn’t he busy? You know, being the chief and all…””

“You’re supposed to wrestle your parents,” Tundra assured him, chest fur puffing up with pride. “I used to chew on Mama’s ears all the time when I was a cub. Now Avalanche and Arctic and everyone else can wrestle with me because they’re big enough to know how to stop playing before they squash me flat.”

The human laughed, openly and brightly, and it sounded nice.

Tundra stood so that could he could launch himself back towards the settled part of their little patch of the Infinite Realms. “Come on!!” he shouted, more than eager to play. “Last one there doesn’t get any fish eyes!”

There was a moment of silence—and then they were both rolling in the snow, the human having decided to launch into him!! This was great!! Tundra whooped, feigning bites and wriggling while the human pushed him further into the depths of the snow. The human’s grin was kind of wide and weird without a muzzle, but that wasn’t his fault, and he was having fun!! And so was Tundra!!

And the human-ghost could fly, and Tundra couldn’t, so chasing after him was super fun. They made it all the way back to the settlement in no time flat, dodging other kith and kin—

And running into Mama and Chief Advisor Pritla on accident was worth how much trouble he got into later.

Whoops!

#phic phight 2024 #phic phight #faer fic #danny phantom #far frozen #I needed a yeti to look down at Danny and be like 'this is a best friend' and I needed Danny to look up and go 'this is...legit a baby'#no frostbite this time though check the previous instead #whoah did you know danny phantom was trending today you guys no way /j #no I am still not over the greenland shark nor fish eyes together we can COME TOGETHER AND APPRECIATE CULTURE SPECIFIC DELICACIES #HOLD MY HAND. WE WILL FIND WORLD PEACE. TOGETHER

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catladyoftheyr · 2 months

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Muscle Memory

Pt 2

Miguel O’Hara x reader

Summary: you left town for your career, but you and Miguel always end up hooking up whenever you come back home.

Warnings/ Authors note: I was listening to Muscle Memory by Kelsea Ballerini and I had a vision and had to write it down.

Warnings and other things to be aware of : SMUT (FILTHY 18+ I’m so serious), alcohol, but neither character becomes inebriated, rough sex, unprotected p in v, light choking, filming of sex, oral sex for both parties, lots of dirty talk, creampie, facial, semi public sex/exhibitionism. You’re fucking against his car in a back alley parking lot.

Word count: 2.7k

Special tag for @lazyjellyfish300 I know you wanna read it bb 🕷️🪼

You haven't been home in months, but as you walked through the entryway of the local dive, you saw that your favorite spot on the end of the bar was still open. You slid onto the stool and ordered a margarita on the rocks. You sipped your drink quietly and pulled out your phone to check your email. You moved to a larger city after college for your career, but now it felt like work followed you everywhere you went, even off the clock. You were so absorbed in work that you didn’t notice that someone had taken the seat next to you at the bar: at least until you heard a familiar voice.

“Every time I see you you’re on that damn phone”

“Some of us have jobs, Miguel.”

“I have a job, thank you very much. It’s my bar you’re sitting in if I recall.” He smirked as he said the last sentence.

“Don’t you have work to do then? Besides terrorizing paying customers?” You couldn’t help but crack a smile. Miguel might be annoying, but he was still the closest friend you had back home. He’d never resented you for leaving town, even if he’d wanted you to stay.

“You know your drinks are on the house when you come here, cariño”. He made his accent heavy when he used the pet name. He knew you had a soft spot when he spoke Spanish. Miguel motioned to the bartender and ordered you another margarita

“It seems like bad business practice to give free drinks to any beautiful woman that walks through your door. O’haras is gonna close if you keep it up” you joked, sliding your phone back in your pocket.

“Aye, only for you. How long are you staying this time?” He replied. He slid your drink in front of you, toying with the straw. The glass looked comically small next to Miguel’s large hands. Your mind drifted to the nights where his hands had been tangled in your hair, palming your breasts, and inside your-

You came back to reality when you felt Miguel playing with your bra strap under your sleeve. The song had changed to something country, and Miguel was humming in your ear. “You know what they say, tequila makes her clothes fall off” he whispered as he slid your strap further down your shoulder.

You slid your strap back in place and moved Miguel’s hand back to the bar. “You’re gonna have to do better than if you want to get in my pants tonight, Mig.” You wanted him just as badly, but weren’t ready to give in just yet. You wanted to make him work for it. “I bet you can’t beat me at pool”

Miguel let out a loud laugh and threw back his head. “That’s not even a fair fight. I’d feel terrible seeing you lose.”

“Aww is Miggy scared to lose to a girl? Sounds like you’re a chicken” you replied, knowing exactly how to rile him up. You got a thrill out of agitating Miguel, the way his forehead creased, his mouth curling downward.

“I’m telling you right now that I’m gonna wipe the floor with you,” he shot back, clearly holding back a smile. “Don’t expect me to hold back just because you suck” he chuckled.

“I wouldn’t expect anything less than the best from Miguel O’Hara.” You walked over to the pool table, sensing Miguel’s eyes trained on your ass as he ordered another round of drinks. “Didn’t your mother ever tell you it’s not polite to stare?” You called after him.

“I’m just admiring the view, baby”

If he wanted a show, you’d be sure to give him one. You made sure to raise your arms as high as you could when you reached for the pool sticks. You made sure that your shirt rode up, exposing a strip of skin above the waistband of your shorts. You handed one of the sticks to Miguel with a smug grin on your face. He bit his lip as he watched you arrange the balls in the rack; he ogled you as you deliberately arched your back bending over the table. “You can break,” you said flirtatiously.

Miguel took on a look of intense focus. You could see the way he calculated the best angle to shoot from. His t-shirt came untucked from his jeans when he moved around the table. You took in the view of his tanned skin, and the way his immense frame loomed over everything. Miguel had sunk three balls in quick succession before missing his next shot. He swore under his breath and turned to face you. “Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Come on, Mig. At least give me a chance to play before you sink everything.”

“No way! I told you I wasn’t going to go easy on you.”

You knew you didn’t stand a chance at winning; but you weren’t giving up without a fight. There weren’t any rules about distracting your opponent. You gave your shorts a gentle tug to emphasize your figure before analyzing which ball to aim for. You picked your target and leaned forward, moving your hips from side to side knowing Miguel was watching you. You took your shot slowly and watched with disappointment as the cue ball sank into a hole. “Fuck”

“Woof, a scratch on your first turn? You’re making this too easy” Miguel taunted you with a smirk. He grabbed two bottles of beer off a table and tore off the caps with his teeth, spitting them into his open palm before shoving them in his pocket. It was his favorite party trick, and he knew it turned you on. He turned back to the pool table. “Watch and learn, nena. This is how a pro does it.” He sunk two more stripes and missed the third.

That made five balls to your whopping total of zero. Time to ramp up your distraction strategy. “If you’re so good, then why don’t you help with this next shot?” You tried to sound as innocent as possible.

Miguel obliged and stood behind you, his frame towering over you. He placed his arms on yours and the heat of his body sent shockwaves down your spine. You bent together in perfect sync as Miguel showed you where to aim, saying something about keeping an eye on the ball and how to line up your shot. You weren’t listening, instead pressing your hips against his. You moved slowly and deliberately, grinding against his crotch. The friction was driving you both crazy, but neither of you wanted to be the first to admit it. Miguel stifled a moan and pressed into you even harder. Neither of you cared about pool anymore. He nipped at your ear and you tried not to squeak. The pool sticks fell to the tabletop and Miguel leaned to whisper in you ear.

“Follow me.” Miguel grabbed your hand and you both stumbled out the back door of the bar into the parking lot. Immediately he had you pressed against the brick wall of the building. His lips crashed into yours, desperate and frenzied. You kissed back and grabbed his hair in an effort to pull him even closer. His tongue found its way into mouth while you moaned into the kiss. Miguel broke the kiss only to move his lips to your neck. “You’re such a fucking tease.” His eyes bored into yours. “Every time you come home you come into my bar, practically fucking begging to end up underneath me.”

“And you it up, Miggy.” You wrapped your arms around his neck and hoisted yourself up to cross your legs behind his back. “You want me so bad; you’d do anything for this pussy.” Miguel’s hands cupped your ass, sliding under the hem of your shorts. You moaned as he kneaded your flesh expertly. He carried you over to his car while you were still wrapped around him. Miguel let you down and leaned against the hood of his car, his cock clearly straining against the denim of his jeans.

“This is what you do to me, baby. You drive me so fucking crazy.” He groaned. You rubbed his cock through the fabric, relishing the noise he made as you teased him. You unbuckled his belt and tugged down his pants and boxers. Miguel’s cock sprang free and you could barely wrap your hand around his thick girth. You were no stranger to his body but could swear he seemed bigger than you remembered. Miguel moaned loudly as you slowly your hand up and down his shaft, taking care to rub your thumb over his sensitive tip.

Whenever you and Miguel hooked up it felt natural. You’d done this so many times you both knew exactly what the other liked. Every nook and cranny, every secret spot. You knew exactly which buttons to press to drive each other wild. You picked up the pace of your strokes before kneeling to take him in your mouth. “Please baby. I need more. Need you to suck my cock.” Miguel’s voice was desperate and pleading. You licked from base to tip, tasting the salt of the precum he was leaking like a faucet. You bobbed your head up and down, struggling with his size. Miguel bucked his hips in response and you made it halfway down the length of his cock.

You came up for air and spit in your palm and began stroking the base while you sucked. Miguel groaned and you felt him wrap a hand in your hair, pushing your mouth down further. “Come on baby, I know you can take me.” Your hands fell to your sides and Miguel’s hands guided you up and down his shaft. “You’re so fucking pretty with your lips wrapped around my cock.” His pace quickened and he began to fuck your face, thrusting down your throat. He pulled out of your mouth and started stroking himself. “Fuckkk I’m gonna cum. Open your mouth for me, baby.” You closed your eyes and stuck out your tongue, feeling ropes of semen hit your face and tongue. You licked your lips, tasting the salt and sweat. You opened your eyes to see Miguel had his phone out. “Smile for me, hermosa. You look so pretty with my cum on your face I want to remember this” he cooed while snapping pictures.

Miguel helped you up off your knees and swiped his fingers softly across your face before popping them into his mouth to clean them. He kissed you again before pressing you face down against the hood of his car. You felt his large hand palming against your pussy through your shorts. “Mmmplease, Mig. Don’t tease me like this.” He kept rubbing, pressing the fabric into your folds.

“You’ve been teasing me all night, baby. Paybacks a bitch.” Miguel crouched down and kissed your pussy through your denim shorts; You felt him massage your ass while he pressed his mouth against you. He pressed down firmly as you squirmed under his touch, desperately trying to increase the friction. “Stop fucking wiggling.” He yanked your shorts down so the only thing between him and your cunt was the thin fabric of your thong. He rubbed your clit through your panties and you gasped.

“Please, baby. I need more” you moaned breathlessly. He picked up the pace, making quick circles around your bud with his large fingers. You felt the pleasure building steadily as Miguel worked his magic. “Ah! I’m almost there. Keep going, Miggy!” Just as the words left your mouth he stopped, leaving you hanging on the edge of your orgasm. “What the fuck was that for?!” You turned to face him and saw a shit eating grin on his face. “It’s not fucking funny, Mig” you groaned.

“I told you, payback is a bitch. You don’t get to cum until I say you can, baby.” You sighed and Miguel pressed you against the car hood again with one hand, using the other to push your panties to the side. He slid one thick finger into you and moved it slowly in and out. “You’re so fucking wet for me baby. And so tight. I’m gonna stretch this pussy out” he cooed, adding a second finger. “That’s it, baby.” He knelt down again and you felt him trade his fingers for his tongue. He darted in and out of your entrance, and you flooded with wetness. “You taste so fucking good”. Miguel continued licking, kissing, and sucking every fold of your slit. The pleasure building up was starting to become unbearable; you had no idea how you were going to be able to hold back. Then Miguel said the magic words: “Cum for me, cariño” he purred, sucking on your clit as if his life depended on it.

You let yourself fall over the edge and you gasped as your orgasm overtook you. Waves of pleasure racked your body and you found yourself speechless. You were coming down from the rush when you felt the tip of Miguel’s cock poking at your entrance. “It’s too big” you moaned, already feeling the stretch from just the tip.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’ve done this before. You’re so good at taking me, baby.” Miguel replied, pressing in another inch of his girth. He grunted as he felt you stretching around him. “Your pussy is so good. You make me feel so good.” Miguel wrapped his arms around your waist and pulled you up to his chest, pushing his cock in further. He grabbed your hair and turned your face toward him to kiss you again. The kiss deepened and became frenzied as you felt him going deeper and deeper until he finally bottomed out inside of you. You felt so full you couldn’t believe he fit inside of you.

“Your cock is so fucking big, Miggy. I need you to fuck me.” You moaned, not caring if anyone else was around. Miguel took your words to heart and immediately started pumping in and out, your wetness running down your thighs. He kept a steady pace, hitting the sweet spot inside of you with every thrust. “Fuck me harder” you cried, cockdrunk.

Miguel pulled out and flipped you over, dragging you both to the side of his car. He pulled out his phone again and pressed record before reentering you. “Put on a show for me baby, show the camera how good I make you feel.” You moaned louder, happy to show off for him. Miguel pushed up your shirt to expose your tits and palmed them roughly with one hand. He groped and squeezed, pinching and rolling your nipples between his digits.

“Fuck, Miggy. You feel so good. Keep going”

“You’re taking this cock so well, baby. The camera loves you. You’re such a little slut for me I love it.” He pumped harder, hitting your cervix with his tip. His spare hand moved from your chest to your throat and he squeezed lightly. You let out a moan and felt pleasure start to build in your core again. You used one hand to start rubbing circles on your clit while Miguel was thrusting. “That’s it, baby. Rub it out for me. You’re taking my cock so well.”

“M-mig I’m close. I’m gonna cum” you squeaked out, the circles on your clit becoming more frantic.

“Go on, nena. Cum on my cock. Show me how pretty you look when you’re cumming for me.” Miguel’s encouragement pushed you over the edge and your second orgasm ripped through your body. You felt yourself clench tighter around his cock and he thrusted harder, taking his hand off your throat and using it to steady you against the side of the car. “I’m gonna cum, baby. I’m gonna put a baby in you, then you can’t leave me again.” Miguel gave one final thrust before you felt him release, spilling his seed inside of you. He grunted before pulling out slowly.

“That was so good, mig. I remember why I come back to this place when I’m in town now” you joked, pulling your clothes back into place. Miguel finished redressing himself and planted a soft kiss on your forehead.

“Yeah? Well maybe you should come home more often then.”

#miguel spiderverse #spiderverse fanfic #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #atsv fanart #atsv fanfiction #miguel o’hara smut

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scuderiahoney · 3 months

Text

Love Of My Life

Max Verstappen x Reader // Strawberry Wine Part 5

Masterlist // Series Masterlist

Summary: Four moments leading up to the big day, and the moment you and Max have been dreaming of.

a/n: I actually have SO much to say but I will save it for the end or maybe a separate post. title thanks to Mr. Harry Styles. Hope you all enjoy this one!

Warnings: alcohol/intoxication, mild sexual content

1. something old

“You should come over Friday,” Louise tells you over the phone. “I’m having some friends over, you’ll love them. It’ll be fun.”

You don’t have anything better to do, really. You’ve had a hard time making friends since you moved here- people were still hesitant to socialize due to Covid. But things are opening back up now, and the one friend you have made wants to introduce you to more people. You should take the chance. You’d be silly not to.

So you head over with a bottle of white wine. You slip your coat off at the door, finding the apartment full of people. You’re suddenly anxious. You don’t know anyone here besides Louise, and you feel like such an outsider already. These people are all already friends, why would you think you could just insert yourself?

Just as you’re thinking about putting your coat back on and pretending you were never there, Louise spots you in the hallway. She calls out your name and beckons you over. Now you’re stuck. There’s no escaping anymore.

She greets you with a hug, squealing in your ear- you can tell she’s already tipsy. You hug her back and smile at her when she pulls away.

“I’m so glad you made it,” she says, loud enough to be heard over the music playing in her apartment. “I’ve got so many people I want you to meet.”

She takes you to the kitchen first, where there’s a wide array of alcohol and mixers. You help yourself to a tequila & soda. Then she holds your hand and pulls you through the crowd, making stops along the way. She introduces you to all her friends one by one, and you start to put faces to the names in the stories she’s told you. Everyone is kind and excited to meet you- apparently, they’ve heard a lot about you, too.

By the time you meet Max, you’re three drinks in. Louise doesn’t give you any sort of heads up. You suppose it shouldn’t really matter- to her, he’s just her friend Max. You’re not a big F1 fan, but you know enough to know who Max is. So when you’re suddenly face to face with him in a crowded apartment?

You handle it well, all things considered. The alcohol helps, keeps your hand from shaking when you give him a little wave as Louise gushes about you. Max helps, too- for someone who should be intimidating, he’s incredibly kind. It’s not long before Louise is dragging you off again, someone else she needs you to meet.

Max yells after the two of you, his hand cupped around his mouth. “Nice to meet you!”

You echo it back and laugh as she drags you away. You don’t see him again that night, but Max’s soft smile stays imprinted in the back of your brain for days.

2. something new

Just before Christmas, you and Max host a party. Half your friends are out of town visiting family, but you invite the people who are there to come over for dinner and drinks and games. Daniel, who is usually first to arrive and last to leave, gets there far too early. He rings the doorbell and Max looks at you with a wide grin. He has oven mitts on his hands, and he’s wearing an apron. It’s all very domestic, and it makes your heart sing.

“I’ll get it,” you say, sliding off the kitchen stool and heading for the door.

You take a deep breath before you open it. Daniel comes tumbling in, arms full of food and drinks, kicking off his shoes in the doorway. He’s grinning so wide at you that for a moment you think he already knows, but Max had sworn he hadn’t told him yet. He heads towards the kitchen, already talking a mile a minute, but when he turns over his shoulder to look at you he stops in his tracks. He cocks his head at you.

“Something’s different,” he says, one brow quirked. “Did you cut your hair? Something’s… new.”

You shake your head and frown at him. He frowns right back. Then he drops the bottles and bags of food on the couch. He casts a glance towards the kitchen, where Max has his head in the fridge. For a second, you’re worried about what he’s going to ask you.

Then he reaches for your left hand, and you start to laugh.

His grin grows impossibly wider when he spots the ring on your finger. He pulls you into a tight hug before he says anything. You hear Max let out a noise of confusion in the kitchen, but you’re busy hugging Daniel back.

“Congrats,” he says, voice low. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him.”

You laugh, tears suddenly threatening to build up in your eyes. “Thank you. And. Thank you,” you say. “For picking me up and bringing me here that night.”

He nods, squeezes his arms around you once more before he pulls away. Max is standing at the kitchen island, watching the two of you with a soft smile.

“Told you he’d notice immediately,” he says. “Lando’s the one who’ll be oblivious.”

Daniel charges across the room to get to Max and wraps him up in a bear hug. Max reciprocates happily, smiling at you over his friend’s shoulder. They hold onto each other for a long time.

“Wait, so is this an engagement party?” He asks, and Max laughs. “Wait, when did you ask her?”

“Just after we got back from Japan,” you answer.

Daniel turns to you, eyes wide. “You little assholes! You’ve been keeping it a secret for weeks?”

He shoves Max’s shoulder lightly. Max shoves him back. Before long, the two of them are playfully wrestling in the kitchen. The timer on the oven goes off, but it doesn’t seem to stop either of them. You sigh, walk over, take the oven mits from the counter, and sidestep the scramble to get to the oven and pull the tray of cookies out.

Louise walks in without knocking and takes in the entire situation- you, a tray of cookies in your hands, Daniel, his arms around Max, Max, with Daniel in a headlock, and she starts to laugh.

“Oh my god, did you guys get engaged?” She asks.

“How did you know?” Max squeaks- Daniel’s pinched his side mid sentence.

“You’re wearing an apron that says fiancé,” Louise laughs.

You collapse into laughter, barely making sure to set the cookies down on the counter. You’d forgotten about the apron, a gag gift from you to him that he’d insisted on actually wearing. Max looks down at his own chest, tucking his chin comically to do so. He still has Daniel in a headlock. The other man is jabbing at Max’s stomach now.

“Huh. Forgot about that,” he says with a shrug.

“Let me see the ring!” Louise says, making her way towards you.

“Shoes off!” Both you and Max call out, pointing at her feet.

She sighs and shares a look of exasperation with Daniel. He rolls his eyes in agreement. Max sees and remembers his previous fight with Daniel, and seems to decide to return to that, shoving his elbow into his friend’s side.

You ignore them and head for Louise, holding your hand out to her. She squeals over the ring, holding onto your hand tightly, eyes lit up.

“Wouldn’t be here without you,” you tell her.

“And that awful strawberry wine,” she says knowingly.

She’s not exactly wrong. Without that night, the strawberry wine that everyone else hated but you and Max liked, you’re not sure what would’ve happened. You like to believe you would’ve found your way to each other- something else to have in common, something else to share. But you wouldn’t trade any of those shared bottles of wine for the entire world. You treasure each moment.

“They got engaged like three weeks ago!” Daniel calls out. “They’re assholes!”

You slip the ring off your finger and turn it around so Louise can see the strawberry, and you watch her face crumple into a sob. You laugh and feel yours do the same.

“Shit,” Daniel says. “I didn’t mean it.”

Max gives up on wrestling Daniel. “Baby?”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him, as you pull Louise into a hug. “Happy tears.”

3. something borrowed

You follow Max to Bahrain for the beginning of the F1 season. He’s often busy before he gets in the car, and you usually spend the time hanging out in hospitality or in the garage. But before the first practice of the season, he finds you and pulls you to the side.

He slips the bracelet you gave him from his wrist and hands it to you. “Keep this safe for me?”

You know the rest of his jewelry- his other bracelets, his watch, and any rings he’d worn- are sitting in his driver room. Your chest warms at the thought that he’s worn this one as long as possible, and that he wants you to hold onto it. You smile up at him and slide the bracelet into your own wrist. It’s a bit too big, but it’ll work.

“Sure, I’ll just borrow it for now,” you tell him.

A wide, soft smile spreads across Max’s lips. “Oh. That’s. That’s nice.”

His face has morphed into something warm and full of affection. His eyes are trained on the bracelet, sitting on your wrist, the way it hangs loosely against the base of your hand. It’s comforting to you, too.

You laugh, noticing the tears in his eyes. “You big sap.”

He brushes his thumb against your wrist and kisses your forehead. “But I’m yours.”

“Yeah, you are,” you say, and you kiss his cheek. “Forever. I’ll see you soon, love.”

After the practice, he finds you, his race suit tied around his waist. He pulls you into a hug, and you slip the bracelet off your wrist and onto his. And so, the tradition begins.

By the end of the race the next weekend, the two of you have it down to a science. He takes it off just before he heads to the grid, leaves it with you. You rub your thumb against the metal during the race, wrap your whole hand around it during the more stressful moments. The cold metal against the palm of your other hand is grounding, somehow. When he crosses the finish line in first, you run to greet him with the crew. He pulls you halfway over the barricade when he finds you, helmet still on, and you press your lips to the top of it as he holds you, strong arms right around your middle. He smells like sweat and shakes with the adrenaline of it all. There are people slapping his shoulders eagerly, people reaching to tap his helmet, but for just a moment, all he’s focused on is you. He reaches for your wrist.

You slip the bracelet off and put it back on his wrist for him. You watch his shoulders relax, like the last bit of tension is draining away. You hold onto the sides of his helmet, staring into his eyes, which are nearly squeezed shut. He holds your face in his hands for just a moment, fingers pressed to your skin.

He’s going to be your husband. In all of this chaos, you’re the person he wants by his side, the first one he runs to. It hits you like a freight train, and you swallow down the tears.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promises, smiling through all of it. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you tell him, as you let go of him.

Someone pulls him away- he has other things he has to do now. But he’ll come back to you. He always does.

4. something blue

Soon, it’s late summer in Monaco. The hazy afternoon sun is about to slip below the horizon. You’ve just climbed out of bed after a long nap with Max, both of you having been exhausted from the race weekend and the journey back home. For once, you’d been the one trying to coax him to stay in bed. He’d insisted on getting up, on trying to scrape together dinner from what’s left of the groceries in your apartment. So far, you haven’t made much progress beyond opening a bottle of wine and starting a playlist playing.

“Maybe this could be a first dance song,” you suggest, some sappy love song playing over the speakers in the kitchen.

Max shakes his head, wrinkles his nose. “You don’t even know this song.”

“Sounds pretty.”

“It has to mean something, no?” He says, reaching out and pulling you close. “Not just… sounds pretty.”

“Yeah, but… how do we pick a song that sums it all up?” You ask, and his shoulders drop. “I mean. Have you found the song yet?”

“I have ideas,” he says.

“So do I,” you answer, and then you sigh. “But I don’t think any of them are the one.”

Max stands there, hands on your hips. “Let’s test them out,” he says.

You blink up at him, sliding your hands up his abdomen. “Now?”

You look down at yourself, and at him. He’s shirtless, in nothing but a pair of navy sweatpants and socks. You’re not much more dressed- one of his navy Red Bull tshirts, big enough that it falls down to mid thigh, nothing but your underwear underneath, a pair of light blue cable knit socks on your feet. Your hair is a mess. There are definitely dark circles under your eyes, courtesy of your near-permanent jet lag.

“Yeah, now,” he says, brushing his thumbs against your hips. “You’ve got a list, so do I. How are we going to know which one’s right till we try them out?”

You shrug, then nod, reaching for your phone. You open your music, scrolling to the playlist you’ve already made. Max looks at the screen upside down, trying to read the names of the songs. When the first one begins to play, he takes you into his arms and starts to dance.

The kitchen is big, but it’s no dance floor. The living room might be better, but he seems insistent on staying put. The two of you sway on the tile floors, careful not to bump your hips on the countertops. He spins you in dizzying circles, ones that make you laugh and smile and send you crashing back into his chest. And when you’ve heard enough of each song to know it’s not the song, you skip it.

“Too boring,” he says about one.

“Too cheesy,” you respond to another.

He wrinkles his nose at the next one. “This is even cheesier.”

It’s not long until you’ve exhausted both of your lists. You sigh in defeat, resting your head on his shoulder. His hand sweeps up your back.

“We’ll find it,” you tell him. “Or we’ll get Charles to write us a song.”

Max snorts out a laugh. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“He was the first of your friends that I met, you know,” you remind him with a teasing lilt.

He bends his head to kiss your forehead, but he stops halfway. His brows furrow. Then he reaches for your phone off the counter, swiping to open it.

“What?” You ask, softly.

“Danny- he suggested a song, a while ago. A long time ago, actually-“ he says. “I had forgotten about it. But. We should try, no?”

You nod. He pressed play. You don’t recognize the song as the first chords play out, but you’ll give it a shot. You rest your head against Max’s chest, let him hold you and sway back and forth. For a moment, you think you’re starting to feel it. That this might be the song. There’s a flutter in your chest.

And then the chorus hits, and you hear the lyrics, and you just know. You look up at Max with tears in your eyes and you know he feels it too. The sun is long gone, now, and the kitchen is filled with that blue, post sunset light. It matches Max’s eyes, brings out the color in them. He leans you back in the kitchen of your apartment and kisses you like you’re his wife- like this could be your first dance at your wedding. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him right back.

You’re not sure how many times you listen to that song that night. Enough to learn all the lyrics, enough to commit the feeling of it to memory. By the end of the night, Max is singing it to you while you wash your face and laugh, and you’re humming it while you climb into bed. You lay there, your head on the pillow, looking over at him. Neither of you can wipe the giant smiles off your lips.

5. and a sixpence in your shoe

You wake up just after the sun on a Saturday morning in early January. The year is still fresh, and Max is in bed next to you. He’s got his arm around your waist, face pressed into the pillow. The sight makes you smile.

Today, you get to marry him. You can’t wipe the stupid grin off your face. As Max starts to wake up, you see the smile slip across his face, too. He opens his eyes and meets yours, and the smile only grows. He reaches out, runs the back of his finger over your cheek.

“My beautiful girlfriend,” he says, softly.

You laugh. “My handsome boyfriend.”

“We have to use that up, you know. Say it while we still can,” he says.

He tugs at your side to pull you closer. You go easily.

“We’re getting married today,” you say to him.

He nods, eyes tracing your face. “Any second thoughts? Cold feet?”

You laugh and bury your face in his chest. You press your feet to his calves and he hisses, rolling over on top of you in retaliation. He presses quick, ticklish kisses to the sensitive skin of your neck, and you squeal and try to push him away. He’s much stronger, though, and he keeps you pinned under him.

“My feet are always cold,” you tell him. “But no second thoughts. I’m all in.”

“Are we getting married or playing poker?” He teases. When you groan and shove at his shoulder lightly, he laughs into your neck.

“What about you? Second thoughts?” You ask.

Max laughs again, louder this time. He presses himself closer, if that’s even possible, and kisses the hinge of your jaw gently. His nose brushes against your temple, then, as he presses his lips to your ear.

“Never,” he whispers, making you shiver. “I’m all in, too.”

He pulls away to look at your face, and you’re met with a soft gaze that sends your heart into overdrive. He leans close, lips aiming for yours, his nose bumping against your nose. You let your eyes fall shut, and then there’s someone knocking on your front door, loudly.

“You two better be decent!” Daniel calls out. “We’re here, time to get up!”

You sigh, throwing your head back on the pillow. Max lets out a long, loud groan, hands suddenly everywhere on your body, like he’s trying to get as much touching in as he can before it’s too late. You laugh and try to push him away again, but it’s no use.

“Why’d we tell him to come get us so early?” Max says, bordering on a whine. “And why did he listen to us?”

“He’s your best man,” you remind him. “You chose him.”

There’s a knock on the bedroom door. “Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a schedule to keep. It’s your wedding day!” This time it’s Louise, who’s your maid of honor.

You sigh and try to sit up, bringing Max with you. He doesn’t go easily, or willingly. He seems perfectly content to stay tucked in bed, despite the threats from your friends. In fact, the second you’re halfway sitting up, he’s trying to push you back down onto the pillows.

“Max. I’m not wearing a shirt,” you hiss, gesturing down at yourself. “And Danny is threatening to come in here-“

Max sits up suddenly, eyes wide. “Okay, okay, we’re getting up,” he calls out. “Give us a minute to get dressed, yeah?”

You meet the two of them in the kitchen ten minutes later. Max is in a t-shirt and a pair of sweats, while you’re in a cream lounge set your friend Audrey bought you as a wedding shower gift. You have one of Max’s shirts overtop of it, unbuttoned and hanging like a jacket. Daniel and Louise are sitting at the kitchen counter, coffee and breakfast waiting for both you and Max. Your friends greet each of you with hugs and then rush you both out the door.

You ride to the wedding venue together, and even as you head to get ready, you don’t separate. This is what you both decided- you get ready for every other big event in your lives together, side by side, so why would this one be any different? Your friends all join you, your family members too, trickling in and out of the space. The morning is full of love and light. Max sits next to you and watches you get your hair and makeup done. Your makeup artist has to tell him to stop making you laugh- she’s worried she’s going to mess up your lipstick.

Max just grins and shakes his head. “We can’t have that,” he teases. “That’s my job.”

You wait until the last possible second to put on your dress. That’s when you leave Max’s side, letting go of him until you meet him at the end of the aisle. He's in his tux, a blue bow tie around his neck. There’s this peaceful smile on his face, one that grounds you and comforts you every time you see it. He kisses your temple to avoid messing up your makeup, and you smile up at him softly.

“I’ll see you soon,” he promises eyes sparkling.

“Yeah, see you soon,” you answer, feeling giddy.

The wedding itself is a tiny, intimate affair. Just your closest friends and family and someone to officiate. You can see the garden where you’re going to get married from the room you’ve been getting ready in. The guests are all in the seats- your family and Max’s in the front row. Christian, Geri, and GP are there, craning their necks when they spot Max. Lando is there, sitting next to Martin. Your mutual friends take up a whole row, the ones you met the same night you met Max, the ones who welcomed you with open arms. A whole lot of love in such a little space.

You take a deep breath and head downstairs with Louise, who helps make sure your dress is perfect before you head down the aisle. You stay hidden, watching through a window as Max walks down to the front. Daniel gives you a gentle hug, tears already forming in his eyes. Then the music begins, and Louise grabs you by the shoulders.

“This is your last chance,” she says. “I can be your getaway car.”

You laugh, tears already forming in your eyes, and you shake your head. “No. No second thoughts, no cold feet. I’ve never been more sure.”

She grins at you and squeezes your shoulders. “Cool, because we would’ve had to steal Danny’s car. Oh, I have something for you.”

She reaches into the pocket of her dress and pulls out a coin- a sixpence. Suddenly, you remember the old rhyme, and panic rushes through your body. She’s smiling, though, and shaking her head.

“Something old,” she says, pointing at the vintage bracelet you’d been gifted by Max’s mother for the day. “The something new is the perfume you bought special for today.”

“Something borrowed,” Daniel chimes in, a wide grin on his face, “is the pair of cufflinks I lent Max. And something blue-“

“His bow tie,” you say, softly. “I picked it because it brings out his eyes, but… it works, right?”

Daniel and Louise both nod, grinning brightly. Tears are already forming in your eyes. Louise swipes them away quickly with a tissue as you slip one of your heels off and place the coin there. You take a deep breath.

“Now I’m ready,” you say with a firm nod.

But really, you’ve been ready since the day you met him.

The rest of it is a bit of a blur. It’s like one moment, you’re standing there, watching it all from the outside. Then the next, you’re at the front with Max, his hands in yours, tears in both of your eyes. You hate crowds, hate public speaking, but for him you’d do anything. For him, you’d shout it all from the rooftops.

He has that soft look on his face, the one that makes you melt every time. His cheeks are rosy red, and you have to fight the urge to sweep your thumb against his face, to lean in and kiss him right there. You barely hear what the officiant is saying, but that’s okay because you already know it by heart.

“Now, I believe the two of you have prepared vows?” The officiant says. “Max, would you like to start us off?”

Max nods, squeezes your hands, smiles at you. You smile right back and hold onto him tightly.

“My wonderful love,” he says, voice so soft and tender it makes your chest hurt. “I spent a lot of my life before I met you wondering how you know when it’s love. But you’ve taught me that it’s not just a feeling, it’s a choice. At every turn, I choose you, and you have done the same. You’re my sunshine, my quiet in the noise. So in all the messes, in the stressful days, I love you. Not in spite of, or anyways. I love you in all of it, the good and the tough parts. I’d choose you over and over again.” He squeezes your hands softly. “I promise to save you the best strawberries, to listen when you need to talk, to talk when you need to listen. Most of all, I promise to always walk you home.”

God, you love him. You love him so much it’ll burn you up, so much it aches deep in your chest. You can’t quite believe that you get to spend your whole life with him. You hold onto his hands and blink away tears. His blue eyes stare straight into yours, calm and kind as always. If you could, you’d kiss him right then and there. You take a deep breath instead and begin to speak.

“I heard a quote once, that said there are years that ask questions and years that answer. I think that since I’ve met you, it’s all felt like an answer to a question I didn’t even know I had. You pick me up when I fall, you cheer me on when I succeed, and I love being able to do the same for you,” you say, softly. “I am so thankful for every moment I get to spend with you, from the dances in our kitchen to watching you win on the racetrack. You’re the best part of my life, my steady rock, my anchor in a storm. I can’t wait to be by your side for the rest of our lives. I promise to always share the wine, to cheer you on, to be the sane person in a room full of chaos.” He grins widely at that, eyes glittering with tears. “Above all else, I promise to love you for the rest of my life.”

Then it’s the I dos and the rings, handed to you by Daniel, who’s got tears in his eyes. Your hands shake as you slip the ring onto his finger. Max’s do too. The bands sit perfectly on your fingers, and you can’t take your eyes off Max’s hand- the ring, the bracelet, too. When you finally drag your gaze away, you look up at him again, tears slipping down your cheeks. His face mirrors yours, teary eyed but oh-so-happy.

When the officiant tells him to kiss the bride, he sweeps you up in his arms, the same way he did in the hallway of the club all that time ago, when you were still unsure, when you didn’t realize he wanted this, too. He kisses you sweetly, holds you close, and you feel it in every bone in your body, every muscle, every nerve. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him back. You could do this forever. Forever and ever.

…..

While the wedding was small, the reception is huge, and it’s packed with people. Everyone you or Max have ever spoken to seems to be there. There’s good food, better drinks, and enough strawberry wine to supply the entire city for a month, you’re sure. Someone forces you and Max to sit and eat dinner- you do your best. Then you wander the reception, hand in hand with him, greeting all of your guests.

You’ve changed dresses since the ceremony- out of your more simple white dress and into a bit more of an elegant one. You give so many hugs you think your arms will fall off, and accept countless compliments on the dress and the decor and the food. People tell you how proud they are of the two of you, how happy they are for you, how in love the two of you look.

You’ve just barely collapsed into your chair again, wincing at the ache already present in your feet, when they announce the first dance. Suddenly, you’re rejuvenated. Max grabs your hand and helps you up, a wide smile on his face.

“My wife,” he says, seemingly never tiring of using your new title. “May I have this dance?”

“My husband,” you respond, smiling. “This dance and every single other one.”

He laughs. It’s incredibly cheesy, overly sappy. But someday, a long time ago, you pulled your heart out of your chest and handed it over to him. And he took it, wrapped it up and held it safely, promised to protect it with his life, and then gave you his in exhchange. You have the right to be sappy and cheesy and emotional. He leads you to the dance floor, a million eyes on you. You just stare into his, and the rest of the world disappears as the song begins to play. It’s not the typical kind of music you two listen to, and it’s probably not what your friends were expecting. But when the chorus plays…

You're as smooth as Tennessee whiskey

You're as sweet as strawberry wine

You're as warm as a glass of brandy

And honey, I stay stoned on your love all the time

You rest your head on his shoulder as he holds you close, one hand linked with yours.

“I love you,” you whisper, fingers dancing in the hair at the nape of his neck.

“I love you, liefje,” he says, brushing a kiss against your forehead.

He kisses you on the lips at the end of the song. Everyone cheers, and you smile into it, unable to help yourself. Max raises one fist above your heads, like he’s just won a race, and you start to laugh. It’s one of the happiest moments of your life.

…..

When the reception ends, the afterparty begins. Most of the older or calmer guests head out. Louise helps you change your dress one more time- from the ballgown to a short party dress. You ditch your heels for a pair of white sneakers and sigh in relief at the feeling. By the time you make an appearance, the party is truly in full swing, and you spot Max up on the DJ stand with Lando and Martin. Years ago, if you’d have guessed who’d DJ your wedding afterparty, you’d have never suggested Martin Garrix and Lando Norris, and yet, here you are.

You climb up there with them, greeting your two friends with hugs before sliding up to Max’s side. He’s lost his suit jacket somewhere along the way, and his neatly tied bow tie hangs loose and crooked from his neck. You reach to try and fix it for him. He looks you up and down, a sly smile on his lips.

He wraps his arms around you, letting his hands fall low on your back. “This might be my favorite dress of the day,” he says into your ear.

You shove at his shoulder lightly. “You’re just drunk and horny.”

He shakes his head and kisses your cheek. “No, it’s just… you look the most like you in this one. Like the you I fell in love with.” He nudges his foot against your sneakers. “More comfortable, too.”

You feel warm and soft over that, over the way he’s looking at you right now. “Aw, Maxie,” you say, leaning up to kiss his cheek.

“I mean, you also look hot,” he says, hands slipping down to squeeze your ass. “But that is just an added bonus.”

You laugh, your forehead pressed to his chest. There are people all around you, music pounding in your chest, but you’ve got Max, and that’s all you need.

“Should we go dance?” He asks.

You press your lips to his jaw, then his ear. “Yeah, we should.”

The two of you climb down from the platform. Soon enough, you disappear into the crowd of people, his hand linked with yours the whole time.

You stumble out of the club at 3am, Max’s arm wrapped around your waist. Daniel, ever the dutiful best man, is the one to get the two of you into the car, despite Max’s protests that he can walk you home. You wave goodbye to all your friends, who cheer and wave from the sidewalk. Max has his arm around your waist as you lean out the window to hug Louise, and he yelps and pulls you back in when you start to lean too far.

By the time you’re halfway through the elevator ride up to your apartment, you’re pinned between him and the mirrored wall, his lips on yours. It’s messy and hot and you drag your hands down his torso as his hands slide down your back. When the elevator doors slide open on your floor, he picks you up easily, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He carries you to the front door, pins you against it so he can unlock it, and then stumbles inside, your legs wrapped around his waist. You press your lips to his neck and laugh.

“My wife,” he says, kicking his shoes off and shoving them aside.

You nip at his jaw. “My husband.”

He carries you all the way into the bedroom and lays you down on the bed. You’re a giggly mess, covering your face with your hands as he tugs your shoes off your feet for you. When his hands are free, you reach for him, pulling on his dress shirt until it comes untucked from his pants. The motion knocks him off balance, and he catches himself with both hands on either side of your head, face to face with you.

You always love him, really, but he’s your husband now. It makes butterflies swirl in your stomach, makes you giddy and warm inside. You reach for the collar of his shirt and start working on his buttons.

He starts pressing kisses all over your face- your cheeks, your nose, your eyelids. Each time you try to chase his lips with your own, he pulls away, kissing some other part of your face. You’re three buttons in on his shirt when you give up, grab for his jaw, and start doing the same to him.

When you pull away, he smiles down at you, and you admire your handiwork. There’s lipstick on his cheeks, now, smudged and messy. There’s a line of it down his jaw, leading to a spot that looks so inviting you have to leave a mark there. You dive in and seal your lips there, pulling a groan from his.

You’ll admit it- you’re the first one to yawn. You have your hands under his shirt, pressed against his warm skin, and his lips are dragging against your neck, and the exhaustion hits you all at once. You cover the yawn with your hand, blinking frantically to try and wake yourself up. You can’t fall asleep during this part of your wedding night.

But. Max’s lips are slow against your neck, and his kisses are messier and messier. You run your fingers along his side and he sighs softly. When you feel him yawn, you nudge his shoulder until he looks up at you. His eyes are half lidded, lips red and puffy, and he looks exhausted.

“Do you really want to have sex right now?” You ask, carding your fingers through his hair.

“With you? Always,” he mumbles into the bare skin of your collarbone. Then he lets his head drop back against your chest.

“You’re literally falling asleep,” you say, tugging lightly on his hair. You get no reaction. “See? I just pulled your hair, and nothing. That always makes you-“

“Mm. Yeah. Morning sex it is,” he says, nodding against you. “Probably for the best. We have a flight in…” he looks at the clock on the bedside table. “Six hours.”

You groan and cover your face with your hands again. “Why did we do that? It’s your plane, we could’ve picked any time.”

“Your plane, too,” he says against your skin. “Our plane.”

You stare at the ceiling with wide eyes. “Are you sure you don’t want to have sex? That sentence was hotter than it should’ve been. Ours.”

Max laughs against you and squeezes your hips. “How about this. We sleep. Wake up at the last possible second. Get in the car, go to the plane. Maybe more sleep. Then, we have-“

“Sex on the plane,” you say with him, nodding. “Fuck, we really are married, huh? We’re scheduling sex.”

“Yes. But it’s okay, because it’s mile high club scheduled sex, so it’s cooler.” Max says, which sends you into a fit of giggles.

Then he shoves at your hips, trying to push you further onto the bed. You go willingly and he follows. The two of you fall asleep still half dressed in your wedding clothes, with his head on your chest and your lipstick all over his face.

…..

You’d had a thought, a long time ago, about a honeymoon phase with Max. It’s what those first weeks had felt like, before anything was official, when you thought nobody knew. Now, you lay between his legs on a beach chair on your actual honeymoon, running your hands through his hair, your chest against his. The morning sun beats down on your skin, warming you up the same way he warms your heart. You look at him, at the smile on his face that matches the one on yours, and you think that maybe this is what relationships are all about. Finding the next honeymoon, the next thing to jump into headfirst, together, hand in hand.

“You’ll walk me home, right?” You’d asked him, so many nights ago in the restaurant lobby.

“Always,” he’d answered.

You look at your rings on your finger, laying against his chest. You feel his ring against your cheek when he cups your face, cold in stark contrast to the warmth of his hand, the warmth of him. Always.

That sounds pretty perfect.

a/n: I actually didn’t know about the sixpence in your shoe part of the wedding rhyme until I wrote this. learn something new every day! anyways. this all started with a oneshot and somehow transformed into this. i have a deeper love for max and a deeper hatred for his affinity for wearing Red Bull merch- it makes it very difficult to make fic headers. thank you to everyone who has helped encourage me while writing this fic, and to everyone who has read any of it i love you all! And now, we say goodbye to the strawberry wine universe, thanks for reading! 🍓🍷

ps. this is the last full part but i might have some blurbs if anyone is interested

taglist: @4-mula1 @celestialams @struggling-with-delia @lovekt @i-wish-this-was-me @forzalando @iloveyou3000morgan @callsign-scully @ggaslyp1

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uluvjay · 3 months

Text

Drunken confessions- J. Marino

John Marino x Hughes! Sister

In which you drunkenly admit your feelings for your brother’s teammate

Warnings?; fluff, talks of embarrassment, crying, drunkenness, cursing, throwing up and mentions of it, kissing, slight age gap(5 years), I apologize for any errors.

The sound of the front door bursting open along with stumbling feet and mixed curses caused John to jump up from his spot on the couch.

Making his was to the entryway of the house he found both of your brothers holding you upright as they did their best to get you into the house.

“What the hell happened?” He questioned the younger men as he moved forward to give them a hand.

“Someone was upset about failing her test so let’s just say the vodka shots were never ending tonight.” Luke grumbled as they finally made way into the living room and laid you onto the couch where John had just been sitting.

John laughed lightly at the sight of your snoring form, your hair was messy and makeup smudged, yet to him you still looked just as beautiful as earlier in the evening when you first emerged from your room for a night out with your brothers.

“Um My girls here, I’m gonna head out.” Luke coughed before he quickly rushed out of the house.

“Okay?” John laughed as he looked at Jack who looked just as guilty.

“I-would you be okay watching over her till morning? She usually doesn’t puke or anything and Vodka tends to knock her out so she shouldn’t be an issue.” Jack rushed, rocking back onto his heels while he awaited his teammates answer.

“Where are you going?” John questioned confused.

“There’s a girl in my car….waiting to go back to her place…” Jack breathed.

“Oh, uh yeah I can look over her. Go enjoy yourself man.” John shrugged, you were snoring pretty loud and it looked like you wouldn’t be waking up anytime soon.

“Thank you! I swear the next time we go to dinner I got you covered. You’re the best man!” Jack beamed.

John watched as your brother placed a kiss to the top of your head before rushing out the door and making sure to shut it quietly behind him.

John grabbed the remote off the coffee table before he sat on the opposite side of the gray sectional, he unpaused his show and picked up from where he had left off.

However he had trouble keeping his eyes on the tv for long, they seemed to continuously drift over to your sleeping form. He didn’t understand how someone could be as beautiful as you, he still remembers when Jack introduced you a few months back.

You’d alway been around and he knew he had met you before but there was something different this time. You were in college, had just transferred over from the university of Michigan so you could attend a better program.

He knew he shouldn’t have looked at you the way he did, you had barely just turned twenty-one but there was something in those blue eyes and dark hair that captivated him.

Especially once his apartment building had to be shut down due to an outbreak of termites and your brothers offered their last spare room to him three months ago.

He thought he’d be fine living under the same roof as you, you’d always be at school, him at practice or a game, however he was very wrong. He couldn’t help the way his eyes followed you throughout the house, how his heart warmed at the sound of your laugh, or how he blushed like a teenager anytime you came within a foot of him.

The sound of you coughing pulled him from his thoughts and before he knew it you were jumping up and sprinting down the hallway towards the bathroom.

Hearing your gags echo throughout the hall he quickly followed behind you and grabbed your hair just in time for you to empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet.

You don’t register who it was behind you even as there was a cold rag placed onto the back of your neck;something your brothers never did, however that didn’t stop you from thinking it was one of them.

“Thanks Jacky.” You mumbled as your head rested on the back of your hand.

“Uh, I’m not Jack but you’re welcome.” John spoke softly.

Your body went stiff at the sound of his soft voice, there was no way you just puked in front of him, dread filled your stomach and before you knew it tears of embarrassment were streaming down your cheeks.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong? Why are you crying?” The older man quickly kneeled beside you on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

“S’ nothing” you grumbled slightly pushing him away.

John pushed away the flash of hurt in his chest and grabbed your chin to lift your head, his free hand pushing the hair that had fallen in your face back.

“Don’t say it’s nothing, what’s wrong Y/n?” He asked gently.

“That was embarrassing” you mumbled, eyes looking everywhere besides his.

“Throwing up? There’s nothing embarrassing about that sweetheart, trust me I’ve cleaned up Jack’s vomit more times than I can count.” He laughed.

You tried not to swoon at the nickname he let slip, but the alcohol in your system wouldn’t let it go as your cheeks flamed bright red.

“I didn’t just throw up John, I threw up in front of you!, my crush, the hot guy that’s older and can have any girl he wants, the guy that doesn’t want some sloppy college girl.” You cried.

John swore his heart skipped a beat at your admission, but he couldn’t lie that his brain made him think it was just your drunken words.

“See you don’t feel the same and it’s all because I threw up in front of you.” The alcohol spoke for you and John couldn’t help but giggle lightly.

“How about we talk about this tomorrow? When you’re sober.” He asked softly.

“Okay.” You agreed.

John smiled and helped you off the floor, his hands gripped your waist and walked you towards your bedroom a few doors down. He sat you on the bed and turned to your large vanity looking for makeup remover, finding what he needed he made his way back towards you and began to wipe your face.

“Are you taking my makeup off?” You whispered.

“Mhm” he nodded.

You smiled as he ran the wipe along your forehead before coming down and running it over your cheeks and eyes, doing his best to get everything off.

“Do you want some pajamas?” He asked.

“Yes please, they’re in the drawers on the right.” You smiled softly.

He nodded and made his way over to your dresser grabbing you an old T-shirt and a pair of shorts he sat them next to you.

“I’ll be right back.” He spoke as he left you to get dressed and to collect a bottle of water and Tylenol for you.

He came back to find your bedroom door open once again and your body tucked comfortably under your large comforter.

He sat everything on your bedside table and wished you a goodnight but before he could exit your room he heard your voice speak up.

“John?”

“Yeah?” He replied as he turned back to face you despite the now pitch black room.

“You promise we can talk tomorrow?” He heard you ask quietly.

“Promise.”

“Goodnight John.”

“Night Y/n, sleep tight.” He smiled and made his way to his own bedroom for a long sleepless night.

The following morning you woke up to the smell of bacon flowing into your room making your severely dry mouth water.

Sitting up you looked down at the shirt you wore and the shorts on your legs, confusion wracked through your body for a moments until the memories of puking in the toilet and John taking care of you came floating back.

Butterflies filled your stomach as you remembered how well he took care of you and made sure you got into bed safely. However your smile quickly faded as you remembered that you drunkenly admitted your feelings to the older man last night.

“Fuck!” You groaned as you slumped back into the comfort of your bed.

It took you a few minutes to get the guts to go out to the kitchen where you knew John was no doubt cooking breakfast.

Shuffling into the large kitchen of the house you found him standing him at the stove, shirtless with sweatpants low on his waist, his rib cage tattoo on full display.

“Morning sleepyhead” he smiled as he heard you take a seat at the island.

“Morning.” You greeted with an awkward smile.

You watched as he turned the the fire off and turned to place the last few pieces of bacon onto a plate, looking around you noticed pancakes and a bowl of fresh fruit.

“Eat up, you definitely need it.” He spoke up nudging a plate in your direction.

You wanted to but you couldn’t take the feeling that weighed down on your chest, the anxiety of what you admitted last night lingering over you.

“John, I’m sorry.” You mumbled quickly.

“For what?”

“For what I said and did last night. I shouldn’t have drank as much as I did and you shouldn’t have had to take care of me while I was a mess, I was probably a handful and I’m real-” You began but the feeling of soft lips touching yours cut you off.

It took you a moment to respond due to shock but once you shook it off you were tangling a hand into his curls and pushing your lips harder against his.

He placed a large hand on your jaw, tipping your head back as his tongue slid into your mouth and ran against yours.

You whined when he pulled his lips away from yours, embarrassingly following his mouth as he pulled back.

“Don’t apologize.” He whispered, hand still holding your jaw.

“Did you really mean what you said last night? About me being the guy you like?”

You nodded softly, “I’m sorry if it’s weird.”

“It’s not weird, especially since I feel the same way.” He smiled.

“You do?”

John laughed lightly, “Thought me kissing you was enough of a give away.”

“Hmm, I’m not sure I’m convinced. Maybe you should give me another one.” You smirked.

“Is that so?” He asked, spreading your thighs a bit more as he slipped between them.

“Mhm” you nodded, teeth sinking into your bottom lip as you looked up at him.

He smirked before dipping down and kissing you breathless this time, it was different from the first kiss. This one was full of passion, his hands tangled into your hair as kissed you deeply.

Once he pulled away he rested his forehead against yours.

“Are you sure you’re okay with me only being twenty-one?” You questioned softly.

“As long as you’re okay with dating an old man.” He laughed.

“You are not old!” You giggled.

He gave you one more kiss before backing up and beginning to make himself a plate and you followed behind him to make one of your own. And after a delicious breakfast you two cleaned up and made your way to the living room to relax on the couch, this time cuddled up next to each other instead of on opposite ends.

“How should we tell my brothers?” You questioned.

“Tell us what?” You heard from the entryway.

#nhl #john marino #john marino x reader #john marino imagine #john marino x you #john marino x y/n #hockey imagine #nhl fanfiction #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fluff #nhl fic

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starsinmylatte · 4 months

Text

An Early-morning Surprise

What happens when the three first years find out that Nanami's wife has tattoos?

Pairing: Nanami x Wife!reader

Warnings: None! Just fluff and comfort with a side of domestic bliss (aka what we all deserve)

Word Count: 1k

This work can be read as a companion piece to my other Nanami x tattooed reader work: Baby, It's Cold Outside (18+ for smut)

Click here to join my taglist! (By joining my taglist and/or interacting with my 18+ posts, you agree that you are 18+)

Thunk… Thunk… Thunk….

The distant banging on your door ripped you from the arms of a well-deserved slumber. You blinked, stretching blearily and looking around as the noise showed no signs of letting up. Nanami was still fast asleep next to you, his golden hair splayed across the pillow as he snored gently. The moonlight shone on your husband’s peaceful, unburdened expression, and the sight brought an affectionate smile to your lips.

“He’s worked so hard recently… I don’t want whatever this is to wake him.”

It was honestly a minor miracle that Nanami’s arms weren’t wrapped around you like usual because you’d never have gotten out of bed without waking him. Gingerly, you slipped out of bed, trying to be quiet as you found a pair of house shoes and tiptoed into the living room.

The culprits behind the early-morning wake-up call revealed themselves before you got to the door. Three vastly different voices could be heard bickering back and forth, and you couldn’t help but laugh slightly. Of course, it would be the three first-years both of the Kentos had a soft spot for.

“For the last time, I don’t care who won rock, paper, scissors… I am not calling Gojo.” A familiar, absolutely disinterested voice grumbled.

“Megumi, please? I can’t find my key, and I don’t want to keep banging on the door! It could wake even more people up.” Itadori wheedled.

“I’m not the one who needed to go to the convenience store at two in the morning-”

“I don’t care who calls who or who all gets woken up. it’s COLD out here.” Nobara interrupted snarkily.

You raked your hair into a presentable shape and opened the door before any more verbal warfare could be waged.

“Morning all,” You yawned, shivering at the cold breeze that blew through the doorway.

“I am SO sorry to wake you up,” Itadori immediately dropped to a knee and apologized, his hands clasped in front of his face in penance. “But we got locked out of the dorms….”

Megumi stood off to the side, blushing slightly with his arms folded over a convenience store bag. Nobara stood next to Yuji, shivering in an oversized hoodie that she had clearly taken from the more easily guilted boy.

You smiled, opening the door wider, “Come in, then. I’ll get you some blankets, and you can sleep here. Nanami can take you back to the school in the morning.”

The three students all remained quiet and didn’t move a muscle, even as you held the door open for them. Instead, they all blinked at you rather owlishly. You looked at all three of them in slight confusion.

Yuji opened his mouth twice before words finally tumbled out. “Uh, how long have you had-” WHAM.

Megumi smacked him upside the head, and the pink-haired boy pouted slightly, “Ow, what was that for?”

“It’s rude to ask!” Megumi hissed back quietly.

Meanwhile, Nobara simply walked up to you and gently touched the ink on your arm. “Did they hurt?” She asked with a look of slight awe.

You glanced down at her hand on your arm, and it finally clicked: you hadn’t bothered to put on a robe in your rush to answer the door. Your sleep attire consisted of pajama shorts and an old t-shirt selectively thieved from a certain stoic sorcerer, so your many tattoos were visible to the students for the first time.

You laughed out loud, breath steaming into the cool morning air. “Why don’t you all come in? I might answer a few of your questions if you don’t wake Nanami,” You teased gently.

The students obediently shuffled in, their curiosity beaten by their desire to be out of the cold, and you shut the door behind them with a solid click. You turned to head back into the living room and ran directly into Yuji, who was intently studying one of the tattoos on your arm.

“Woah there,” You giggled, placing a hand on his shoulder to keep the boy from falling into the wall. “Let’s at least get into the kitchen first.”

You put some water on to boil for tea and Yuji’s early-morning ramen while the students looked on with hushed curiosity. Soon, everyone was curled up on the oversized couch in the living room with plenty of blankets and a mug of something hot to thaw them out.

After the thirtieth question from Itadori alone, you gave up on the plan of them getting any sleep and spent the remainder of the time bonding with the kids. Nobara seemed fascinated and approved of the designs, stating that “only the most badass women have tattoos.” Megumi didn’t ask many questions, but the stoic boy did seem impressed. As usual, sweet Itadori was curious and just happy to be involved.

—

Later that morning, Nanami woke to an empty bed and a sense of vague confusion. To his knowledge, you didn’t have anything scheduled for the day, and he couldn’t hear you moving around in the kitchen. Your husband poked his head into the living room and chuckled quietly at the sight before him.

His beloved wife sat on the couch, gently snoozing under a blanket and wholly sandwiched between two of his students. Nobara’s arms were wrapped around you like she was holding a big stuffed animal, and Itadori was snoring away contentedly with his head on your shoulder. Several tea mugs lay forgotten on the coffee table next to a half-eaten bowl of spicy ramen. The usually closed-off Megumi was passed out in the corner of the couch with a foot on Itadori and one of his divine dogs directly on top of him. Its tail wagged lazily, thumping against the boy’s back as the fluffy shikigami greeted Nanami.

The blond sorcerer smiled, taking a moment to commit the scene to memory. He pulled out his phone to snap a quick picture before anyone could move. A few minutes later, the inhabitants of the couch woke to the smell of frying bacon.

— Bonus —

Later that day, you borrowed Nanami’s phone to check something, only to see the photo as his newest home screen.

You scrunched your nose in protest, “Ken, I’m drooling in this picture.”

He leaned over to fondly kiss the top of your head, “I happen to love this picture.”

Tagging some friends: @saradika @thefact0rygirl @babygirl-leon-kennedy @hereforthesunrise @ashotofspotchka @ironandglass @amyroswell @cassandrablacker @lady-valtieri @justanothersadperson93 @orangecreampuff @belle-smith07 @outspokenbrat @enchantedsylveon @khaleesihavilliard @spam-love @silverliningsandstorms

#nanami kento #nanami kento x reader #jjk #jjk fanfic #jjk fanfiction #jjk x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami kento fluff #nanami kento x y/n #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff

535 notes · View notes

amiableness · 11 months

Text

At Last

pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

summary: jj's cousin comes to town and attempts to get with y/n, pissing off jj in the process.

wc: 7.6k

warnings: dean turns out to be an ass, pet names (baby & sweetheart), oral (m & f), dirty talk, language, and p in v {there might be more, let me know!}

a/n💌: she's here! thank you for all your patience while i worked on this fic, hit some writers block while working on it. some of the smut might be familiar if you've read some of my old work, it's because i copied it from gentle. i will be deleting that fic and 'replacing' it with this one!

JJ Maybank couldn’t remember his childhood without Dean Maybank in it. There wasn’t a time he could recall when the nearly identical blonde wasn’t by his side. From diapers to teens, both boys spent most of their time together. Separated by only two months, the boys were practically brothers. There were mistaken for siblings nearly everywhere they went. Whenever one went, the other one was sure to follow. Their moms used to pretend they couldn’t tell the boys apart when they were little, sending both boys into a fit of giggles as they desperately tried to get their moms to remember their sons.

He was twelve when his mom left, and everything fell apart instantly. Luke turned to bottles upon bottles of alcohol to soothe the ache she left in her wake, and JJ was forced to grow up quickly. Andrew and Cecelia Maybank weren’t far behind, taking Dean with them. JJ never knew why his mom left or why his aunt and uncle followed him closely behind. But he was left alone to wonder for many nights why he was left behind.

JJ had years of practice burying the hurt and anger he felt, but as he sits across from his cousin at a table of The Wreck, he can feel the anger simmering. He’s not particularly fond of his cousin being back in town, but that’s not getting under his skin. It’s the fact that Dean has been eyeing you for the past twenty minutes.

“Wait, how long since you have been here?” Cleo asks Dean, attempting to break some awkward silence between JJ and him. Cleo slides into her chair next to Pope while she sends a welcoming smile to Dean, who sits across from Pope.

“Been a while, about seven years now.” Dean Maybank answers with a soft smile. He’s got the same blonde hair as JJ, but he keeps it a lot shorter and has dark blue eyes. They look like they could be twins.

“No wonder I haven’t met you then; I haven’t been around long.” Cleo supplies as Pope tosses his arm over her shoulder and presses a kiss to her temple.

“And Y/n?” Dean asks as he glances back over at you as you laugh with Kiara and Sarah while waiting for your order. Cleo’s lips part a little, and she spares a glance over at JJ, who has pulled his attention away from his phone at the mention of your name. His eyebrows are furrowed, and his body is tense as he stares down at his cousin. Dean doesn’t notice, his eyes glancing back at you.

“She joined the group about six years ago.” John B answers just as the three of you walk over with full hands. John B is sitting next to Dean, saving a spot for Sarah. From the look his best friend is giving him, he’s glad he sat next to Dean.

“Kiara, I love this place, but it’s so slow when you aren’t working here.” Sarah sighed as all the plates were set down and passed around. There’s a rumble of agreement at the table, and Kiara laughs loudly before sitting beside Sarah.

You slip into your spot between Cleo and JJ. JJ would never admit it out loud, but having you fall into the seat next to him and speak softly to only him sends a spark of possessiveness. He loves it when your attention is only on him.

“I got us a milkshake to share,” He watches as you rip the wrapper off the straw before pausing, eyes darting between the straw in your hand and the milkshake sitting in front of you. “They only gave us one; I’ll go grab-”

“We can share.” He grabs the straw from your hands before plunging it into the chocolate shake between you and taking a quick sip. You flush, realizing that you both will be sharing a straw. This wouldn’t bother you in any other case, but it’s JJ. You wouldn’t have thought twice about it if it had been anyone else. But something about him fills your stomach with that giddy feeling that makes you almost jittery with nerves.

His grip is still on the straw as he gives you a slight nod to take a sip. Your cheeks flush when you realize that he’s holding the drink, expecting you to take a sip like this. You lean forward, taking a tentative sip, ignoring how JJ watches you so closely. Having his eyes on you sets off that flurry of butterflies again.

“So cute, guys.” John B teases, making a heart with his hands, and your cheeks burn. You fight the urge to toss a fry at him. John B was notorious for calling out any moments you shared with JJ, which always left a hot flush on your body. Were your feelings for him that obvious? Did JJ know?

You peek over at JJ, who is flipping his best friend off.

The table is quickly drawn back into the conversation as your friends try and get to know Dean more. JJ stays quiet, instead choosing to eat and mutter things to you occasionally. You can’t help but be curious about why he avoids talking to his cousin. John B said that they used to be close, but from how JJ is acting now, you can’t help but wonder what happened.

“Y/n isn’t much of a surfer either.” Your ears perk up at the mention of your name. Sarah is giving you a pointed look indicating that you totally missed out on something.

“I was saying I’m not a big surfer,” Dean supplies at your confused expression. “Maybe we could do something else so everyone heads out to surf later.” The soft smile he sends your way makes your cheeks flush.

You open your mouth to answer, but JJ cuts you off.

“You used to surf all the time.” JJ’s tone is flat, surprising you that he finally decided to speak during this lunch. He had spent the last hour not saying a word to Dean. You glance over at him to see he’s sending an unimpressed look toward his cousin.

“Used to. Not anymore.” Dean shrugs, and you can tell he feels a little unsure around JJ, and you don’t blame him. If JJ was looking at you the way he was looking at Dean, you would feel a bit unwelcome too.

Ever the people pleaser, you send a smile over at Dean. “I would love that, Dean.”

“Dean Maybank is cute.” Sarah breathes out dramatically once all four of you are alone in her room. The boys are all at the Chateau; Cleo thought this might help JJ warm up to Dean more. You highly doubted it.

Your cheeks flush when you realize Sarah is directing this comment at you. You give a little shrug as you sit on the edge of her bed.

“Are you calling JJ cute then? Because they look like brothers.” Cleo teases as she pulls her bikini out of her bag. In front of the mirror, Kiara braided tiny pieces of her hair, laughing lightly at Cleo’s comment.

“Is that what we’re really gonna talk about right now?” You ask, feeling apprehensive about comparing the two. There’s no way you wanted to compare the two, mainly because you knew that JJ would always come out on top in your eyes.

“Yes! He seems pretty damn interested in you.”

“Maybe, but Dean isn’t the Maybank she wants.” Kiara sings songs, and your mouth parts as your sputter out a reply, but you can’t seem to deny it.

“I-no! JJ and I are just friends; we always will be.” You wanted to be sick saying these words.

“Are you serious? He looked ready to kill Dean when he asked you out.” Kiara glanced over her shoulder at you making your cheeks burn.

“He did not ask me out.”

“He made a move for sure,” Cleo called as she headed towards Sarah’s bathroom with her bikini. A sigh passed your lips just as the door clicked shut.

“Nothing is gonna happen whether he made a move or not.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked, tossing herself on her bed next to you.”

“I just-it feel wrong.”

“Because it’s not JJ,” Kiara states this like it’s the most obvious thing in the world as she finishes her hair and turns to face you. Sarah and Kiara nearly scream at the expression on your face, giving you away.

Maybe it was selfish, but JJ had been hoping you had forgotten about agreeing to spend time with Dean while the group went surfing. But here he was, watching the two of you walking up the beach and away from the group. Surfing with his friends meant you would be sat higher up on the beach immersed in one of the many romance books you owned.

Not this time. He watched as you walked away, this time as his cousin held your bag for you.

“JJ, you comin’ or what?” John B hollered. JJ sighed and headed towards the beach, aware that this was the first time in his life that he did not want to go surfing.

“It’s not a date, man; quit pouting.” His best friend mumbled, clapping JJ on the shoulder. The blond sent him an irritated look.

“But he damn well wants it to be,” The thought made JJ’s stomach tighten with discomfort. “She could want it to be.”

“I doubt it,” John B shook his head in disagreement. All the different times he had caught Y/n or JJ pining after each other had proved otherwise. But that wasn’t his place to tell. “Listen, if you like Y/n, you need to tell her. I’m not saying she’s gonna end up with Dean, but I know she won’t be single forever.”

“It’s complicated,” JJ grumbles as he rakes his hand through his hair. He needs a haircut but refuses to get one after he overhears you say you like long hair on guys. Maybe that makes him pathetic, but so be it.

“It’s really not; you’re just making it that way by avoiding telling her.”

“John B, fuck off,” JJ snaps, but his best friend knows not to take offense. “Telling her how I feel could mean losing her as my best friend, and that’s not worth it.”

“But what if telling her means you get her as your girlfriend and best friend?” John B’s words cause his stomach to flip at the thought.

“Wishful thinking, man.”

Your time with Dean was going well, and you were thrilled that you got on with him so quickly. Part of you wanted to ask, but you were scared of making a fool out of yourself if he told you no. Not that you were hoping it was; you just genuinely weren’t sure how Dean viewed this hangout.

He had taken you to a little ice cream shop, one that he said his mom used to bring him and JJ to all the time. Your heart had squeezed in your chest at the reminder that you weren’t there to watch him surf, one of your favorite pastimes. Quickly reminding yourself to enjoy the present moment, it was fair to Dean if your mind was caught up somewhere else.

“This is the best ice cream I’ve ever had; how did I not know about this place?” A quick moan of appreciation slips pasts your lips as you bite, proving your statement true. Dean laughs at your reaction, thrilled to see you enjoying one of his favorite places so much. The last time he was here was with his mom and JJ to have a quick treat after dinner. They left two days after that.

“One of the best places in OBX, hands down,” He replies, studying you with a soft fondness that you are oblivious to. Your entire focus was on stirring your ice cream to make it nice and smooth.

“Totally out of my comfort zone today,” You confess as you take another bite of the cotton candy ice cream. But the soft pink color was so pretty you just couldn’t resist. “JJ and I usually share mint chips.” Dean drops his eyes down to his ice cream at the mention of his cousin.

“Can I ask you something?” He finally asks, and you quietly hum to tell him to go on.

“Are you and JJ..?” He trails off, unsure if he should continue his question by the look on your face. You place your spoon in your bowl and sigh.

“We’re just friends,” By the shrug of your shoulders and the way you naw on your bottom lip, Dean can tell you aren’t a man of this.

“And you’re alright with that?” He asks, hoping for an answer that could turn this into a date between you.

“I-uh-” You clear your throat and glance at the window towards the ocean, hoping to catch a glance of JJ. To no avail. “I’ve liked him for years, but I’m pretty sure he isn’t interested, so we’re just friends.”

Dean gives you an understanding look, but inside, he’s thrilled about your answer. You weren’t JJ’s.

It had been a couple of weeks of hanging out with Dean: trips to the beach, talking about books, getting ice cream, and movie marathons. You knew how this looked, but it was purely just as friends. You knew that, and Dean knew that. Or so you thought.

“So let me get this straight, you guys have been going on dates pretty much but just as friends?” Cleo asked, totally confused by what was happening between you and Dean.

“Yes, just friends,” You clarified as you attempted to fix your hair in a way you liked for tonight’s party.

“He brought you flowers this morning.” She deadpanned, glancing over at the bouquet of pink poppies on your bedside table. They were placed next to a picture of you and JJ, making Cleo snort quietly.

“He was just being nice,” You sounded exasperated, and Cleo wasn’t sure if it was because of your hair or her nitpicking. “Nothing is going on.”

“Maybe for you! He’s clearly interested; he’s been taking you on dates -“You open your mouth to cut her off. “Yes - dates, all week. He’s interested.”

“I thought you were team Dean.” Your hair fell from your hands as you gave up on making the perfect bun; it just wasn’t going to happen tonight.

“That was Sarah. I’m team whoever makes you happy.”

“So, would you be happy if I went out with Dean?” You nibbled on your bottom lip as you waited for her response. Her eyebrows rose, and she stared at you for a second.

“Thought you were just friends.”

“We are! I just-“You paused, taking in a big breath of air and holding it for a second. “I don’t wanna miss a chance with a great guy because JJ doesn’t return my feelings. I can’t hold out hope forever.”

“First party of the summer, Dean! You excited?” John B asks as he presses a beer into Dean’s awaiting palm.

“It’s not the first party of the season,” JJ grumbles, and you shoot him a look, hoping he can control his anger towards his cousin for the night and enjoy the party.

“The first one he’s been to; he’s been too busy with our Y/n here.” John B taunts, sending you a wink when he sees you looking flushed. JJ feels sick. Are you blushing at the thought of being with Dean? Have you actually been going on dates with him all this time?

“Baby, leave them alone,” Sarah admonishes, giving a light slap to his arm. He lets out a laugh and drops his arm over her shoulder, leading her in the direction of the house.

An awkward silence falls over the three of you. Pope, Kiara, and Cleo had already headed inside to get drinks, and you were now desperately wishing JJ had too. Anything would be better than the way he is currently glaring at Dean for standing too close to you.

“Want a drink?” Dean leans to whisper in your ear, and you send him a grateful smile.

“Yes, please,” You smile up at him, watching him for a second longer as he slips through the crowd. JJ clearing his throat is what brings your attention away from him.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing with him?” He asks, taking a step towards you.

“We walked here together, and I-”

“No. What’s up with you spending so much time with him? I’ve hardly seen you in the last few weeks.” He steps closer and closer until the two of you are standing so close you can count all the freckles on his nose.

“We’ve been hanging out.” You supply, not wanting to give too much away. It’s not that we’re trying to be secretive, but you knew that JJ had a habit of getting protective over you. Guess what happens when you’re friends with someone for so long.

“Hanging out or going on dates?” His hand pushes the stand of your hair, blowing in the breeze. At the proximity of him, your heart squeezes, and your breath catches.

“Hanging out?” You answer in nearly a whisper, so focused on starting up at him. The heat of his fingers touching your skin feels like you have been branded.

“You don’t sound so sure.” There’s that cocky tone. He can tell you’re flustered by how close he is to you. You’ve always reacted to him this way. It’s moments like these where it doesn’t seem unbelievable to him that you might like him back.

“We’ve been hanging out, but it might be becoming more and-”

“Y/n” At the sound of Dean’s voice, you take a step away, startled. There’s a tone to Dean’s voice that JJ doesn’t like. He sounds possessive, too possessive for a guy who has only met you a couple of weeks ago.

Dean’s eyes flicker between the both of you, quickly picking up on the tension and closeness. In an act of jealousy, he slips his arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, something he’s never done before. Your features flash with surprise that JJ quickly notices.

“Have a goodnight, JJ.” Dean bites out before steering you toward the direction of the house.

“I thought you said that you and JJ didn’t have anything going on.”

“We don’t.” You glance up at Dean, who still has his arm wrapped around your shoulder. His jaw is tense, and you feel a flash of discomfort at seeing this new side of him.

“Didn’t look that way. He was close enough to kiss you.” Dean grits out, squeezing your shoulder that makes you wince.

“But he didn’t. I don’t understand-”

“You said that he wasn’t interested. I thought I clarified my intentions when I started taking you out on all these dates.” Your stomach flips, and you glance around at the crowd. None of your friends are nearby.

“I didn’t-“You clear your throat, willing yourself to make your voice come out stronger. His shift in personality has really thrown you off. “I thought we were hanging out. I didn’t realize you thought these past few weeks were dates.”

“They were dates, Y/n. Does John B or Pope ever take you- just you - out for ice cream or to the movies?”

“No, but JJ-”

“Jesus, Y/n! JJ doesn��t view you as a friend. If we’re gonna be dating this summer, I don’t think you should hang out around him.” You were utterly confused. There was never a time when you two were hanging out. Did he act like this or make his intentions about dating you clear. And there was absolutely no way you would give up being around JJ, even if Dean’s attitude hadn’t done a 180.

You were beginning to panic, unsure how to handle his growing anger.

“Dean!” Your shoulders immediately relaxed at the sound of another Pogues voice. You were sure his name was Noah, and that he was friends with the boys, but other than that, you didn’t really know him. You watched as Dean plastered a smile on his face and greeted his friend. Without warning, you slipped away from Dean and slipped through the crowd towards the bathroom.

Usually, a party like this is just what JJ needed, but his mood was much too sour to enjoy it. Not when you had shown up with Dean and disappeared into this run-down house on the Cut nearly an hour ago. He has tried desperately to shake you from his thoughts. But nothing has worked in the past couple of weeks, so he has spent this entire night pathetically sober and on edge.

John B and Pope had tried to include him in the conversation with other guys from the Cut, but he didn’t have the energy to pretend to be interested. So instead, he sat next to the fire along the group and continuously glanced back at the door as if somehow he could keep an eye on you that way.

Dean’s voice catches his attention and pulls him from his thoughts of you. Dean comes jogging down the steps carrying a beer and quickly finds an open seat amongst the guys. JJ ignores the urge to tell him his seat is taken; it feels too middle school.

“Where is she?” JJ asks, sounding terribly protective, but he can’t help it. He’s sat rigid in his seat, waiting for his cousin’s answer. He wouldn’t have left you alone at that party even for a second if he was with you.

“She wanted to spend some time with the girls.” Dean looks flatly at JJ, both boys growing frustrated with each other. Dean is becoming sick of JJ only acknowledging him when it has to do with you. He doesn’t want JJ’s thoughts to be of you at all. The tension between the two is glaringly apparent to the group, so Pope incessantly glances at the house door for about twenty minutes before JJ incessantly glancing at the house door finally pays off.

There you were.

Standing on the porch with tears streaming down your pretty cheeks and arms wrapped protectively around your stomach. JJ felt his stomach drop and the immediate desire to kill whoever made him feel like this. But it seems his cousin has the same desire because both boys stand up at the sight of you.

Dean is the first to step towards you, softly muttering your name. You don’t even glance in Dean’s direction. It isn’t until he repeats your name again, louder this time, that you finally look over at him.

JJ watches as you descend the steps, whip away a stray tear on your face, and stand a couple feet before the group of boys. You don’t take your eyes off Dean, and JJ prepares to watch Dean take you home and knows he will comfort you.

“I just wanna go home,” JJ doesn’t think he has ever heard you so broken up, and it makes him feel physically sick. “Can you please take me home?”

Dean immediately turns to grab his jacket that it tossed over one of the logs he was sitting on. “Of course, let me just-”

Then, you make eye contact with JJ, and the brief eye contact causes your eyes to tear up again. Without thinking, JJ jogs over and wraps you in his arms.

JJ has hugged you plenty of times, but he doesn’t think he’s ever felt you hold him this tight. Your arms are tossed around his shoulders as his arms are looped around your waist. Dean turns, ready to take you home, and falters when he sees you wrapped in JJ’s arms.

“JJ, I’ve got her. She asked me to take her home.” Dean’s voice is flat, and you tense in JJ’s arms. Hoping to get a look at Dean, you pull away from JJ slightly so you can look over at him. While hugging JJ, both of you had shifted so JJ’s back was no longer to the group. Instead, Dean has a clear shot of both sides and how you and JJ are so intertwined. He feels sick watching you grip JJ so tightly.

“I was talking to JJ.” At this, JJ’s grip tightens around you as a possessive feeling strikes through him. He wants to be smug; rub it in Dean’s face that you chose him. But he would much rather get you home and figure out why you were so upset.

You turn your head, looking up at him, with his shirt clenched between your fists. Looking down at you, he can see the tears glistening in your eyes. “JJ, I want you to take me home.”

“I know, baby. Let’s go home.” He places a gentle kiss on your forehead and leads you in the direction of the Chateau.

It wasn’t until you got to the Chateau that you finally let JJ know that happened, and he had been pacing around his bedroom ever since.

“I’m gonna kill him,” JJ practically grits out, his jaw so tense from anger.

“No, you’re not,” You sniffle as you stay wrapped up in JJ’s hoodie and sheets. The second you had reached his room, you climbed into his bed, you’re ultimate comfort place. There were so many times when you ended up in JJ’s bed, feeling wholly protected just by being next to him.

“Y/n, he acted like you were his. He didn’t even ask you! He was-fuck!” The bed squeaks as JJ tosses himself down at the bottom edge of the bed. His head is buried in his hands, and you can see the tension in his back. You slip out from beneath the covers and crawl towards him without saying anything. He tenses when he feels you wrap your arms around him and rest your head on his shoulder, but then he shifts to hold you to him.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what the fuck is wrong with men in my family.”

“You don’t have to apologize; you’re the only Maybank man I care about.” JJ nearly melts at the kiss you place on his cheek.

“Y/n.”

“JJ.”

“This wouldn’t have happened if I had told you sooner.”

“Told me what sooner?”

“About my feelings for you.” Your heart feels like it has given out when you hear him say this.

“No.” Your voice is a whisper as you look up at him.

“No?” His voice is just as soft as yours.

“That isn’t fair to put on yourself; Dean did what he did because he’s a dick.”

“I should have told you that I’ve been in love with you for a long that I can’t even remember when it started. It feels like I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. I’ve loved you so for so fucking long, and I never told you,” He pauses, tucking a stray hair behind your ear like he did earlier in the night.

“I never thought I’d have a shot with you, and then I saw you with Dean. God, Y/n, I wanted to kill him. He had everything I ever wanted,” A soft sigh leaves his lips, and you simply watch him, your stomach fluttering at his confession.

JJ, you sigh, “Everyone knew my feelings about you; I don’t know how you didn’t. Why do you think I was always the first to clean you up after a fight? I would always share the couch with you if I had to. Not like it was a problem for me. I invited you to stay at my house; when have I ever invited Pope or John B to stay in my bed? I’ve always liked you, J, and always will.”

He stared at you as you talked, and you moved closer to him, taking a chance, sitting in his lap, and interlocking your hands behind his neck. His hands quickly found your waist and held you in his lap.

“I’ve always been in love with you,” You whispered softly, too nervous to say the words too loud, worried you might scare him off despite his previous comments. He didn’t say anything at first, simply tugging you into his chest so you had your legs wrapped around his waist as you hugged him. He pulled back to look at you, and your stomach flipped when you saw how he looked at you.

As close as you and JJ always were as friends, you had never been this close as you stared at him. Your heart was racing to see him stare at you like he found you stunning; he had never looked at you like this before. If he had, you had never gotten to see it.

“J?”

“Yea?”

“Can you kiss me?” When his lips meant yours, it wasn’t rough, or fast-it was gentle and soft-like he wanted to take all his time in the world with you. He brushed his lips against yours, slipping his hands into your hair. Relishing in the feeling of you pressed against him. His lips were soft and slow against yours, making you melt into him. Of all the times you had pictured kissing him, it had been quick and heated. But as he laid you down and pressed gentle kisses to your lips and neck, you preferred this to your fantasies.

He brushed his lips against yours, mumbling about how much he loved kissing you, making you smile against his lips. His hands trailed all over your body, barely touching against your skin, but enough to leave goosebumps behind. When he reached your hips, he would give a gentle squeeze. Sitting up, he used an arm to bring you up with him. You had waited so long to kiss JJ; now that you were, you didn’t want it to stop. His hands trailed along your thighs as you sat in his lap, leading the kiss.

“Arms up, baby,” He told you as he pulled your sweatshirt over your head, tossing it to the ground. Watching his eyes raking up and down your body made you dizzy. You let his eyes take in your body before tugging at the hem of his shirt, silently telling him that you wanted it off. This was your chance to admire his body’s dips and curves. There was never a time that you could admire him up close, and that you had, you never wanted to stop. You knew he was muscular from the countess times you had watched him surf and walk around shirtless, but getting to touch him this way was entirely different. Being alone meant you didn’t have to worry about your friends catching your longing looks; there was no John B to relentlessly tease you. Just you and JJ.

“You’re fucking beautiful,” He said as he slipped his fingers under your white bra straps and let them fall down your shoulders.

“Thank you, you’re pretty beautiful too,” Your voice teased as you threw your arms around his neck. Quickly, he leaned forward to kiss you, not wanting to waste another second without tasting you.

“Damn right,” He mumbled, making you giggle. You were about to reach around your back to rid yourself of your bra when he stopped you.

“That’s my job from now on,” He shot you a cocky grin and pushed your hands away from your bra to do it himself. He reached one hand around you, and you felt your bra drop.

“One hand, baby,” He joked. You laughed loudly, remembering that JJ and John B had borrowed yours and Kiara’s bras years ago, hoping to learn to do it one-handed. They eventually did know after you and Kiara stepped in to teach them.

“Pure fucking talent,” You sarcastically answered him, but he wasn’t really listening anymore. He groaned when he saw your bare tits and perky nipples. Your mind blanked as you heard the noise that came from him.

His mouth closed around your nipple, biting gently, ripping a gasp from your throat. Their back arched into his chest to give him better access. He wrapped an arm around your waist to pull you closer to him. Beneath you, you could feel how quickly this was turning his hair wild from when you had your fingers through his hair. Soft sighs were filling the room as he licked and sucked, alternating between both of your tits. The wetness between your legs grew more apparent as he touched you.

He grabbed your waist and moved you off of his lap, pushing you down so that you were laid out underneath him. His hands slipped under the waistband of your shorts, tugging them down, bringing your underwear with them. Your first reaction was to close your legs; you were not used to having someone see you like this. But he gently placed his hands on your knees and pushed them apart.

You sat up as he stood at the end of his bed, slipping his shorts down. Oh fuck. Wetness pooled between your thighs as his cock was released from his underwear. You had always wondered whether he would be big or small, and you weren’t surprised he was in the bigger size. A quick kiss was placed on your lips before he touched your chest, pushing you back on the bed. With your back against the pillows and your legs spread, he finally got to look at all of you. All bare and glistening, and he swore he had never been harder in his life. He glanced up at you, asking for permission, and you nodded. Pressing kisses from your ankles to between your thighs, he slowly made his way to where you wanted him most.

“God baby, you’re soaked for me,” You could only answer with a whimper as he slipped his fingers over your clit, causing you to arch your back. He was slow as he began to circle your clit, adding fingers to pump in and out of you.

The moan you let out was pornographic when he replaced his fingers with his mouth, letting his tongue slide along your pussy. From the bottom to the top, he licked through your folds. You could feel yourself dripping down your thighs, but you knew he wouldn’t if you asked him to go faster; he seemed pleased to take things slowly and gently.

“Your pussy tastes so good, it could eat you out for hours,” He mumbled against you, causing you to moan loudly. Your fingers twisted in the sheets as you continued licking and sucking your clit, bringing you closer to your orgasm. Your legs began to shake, and you were momentarily embarrassed. It had been months since you were last touched, and without warning, JJ between your thighs was bringing you to your orgasm embarrassingly quick. Without warning, he pulled away from you, leaving you a little confused.

“Lay at the end of the bed,” You were still shaky, but you did as you were told and glanced up at him, kneeling at the foot of his bed. He kissed your lips before standing up, and you realized what he had in mind.

You watched as he grabbed his cock between his hand and guided it into your mouth. The moan that left his mouth as he felt your mouth had you squeezing your thighs together.

“Holy fuck, you look so pretty like this,” Desperation laced through his voice, making you feel entirely feral for him. You were willing to do anything that he told you to do.

His hands were in your hair as he created a makeshift ponytail to hold you in place as he fucked your mouth. Youhines were muffled b cock, and from the sounds that were leaving him, you could tell he was enjoying this. A quick peek up at him let you know just how good he was feeling. The flush on his cheeks and his furrowed eyebrows were your indicators.

You pulled away from him with a pop, leaving a trail of salvia attaching you to him, “I need you to fuck me; I’ve waited too long to do this.”

Your voice sounded incredibly desperate as you begged him. He said nothing, just leaned down to kiss you before reaching beside the bed. He dug around in his shorts before grabbing a condom from his wallet. You sent him a soft smile and laid your back against the pillows, waiting for him. He sat before you, then situated himself between your legs and used his arms to hold himself above you. He looked down at you, and you sent him a giggly smile.

“I love you, J,” You told him, causing him to gently lean down and kiss you.

“I love you, baby,” He whispered against your lips, sending butterflies throughout your stomach.

He sat up, grabbing your thighs with both hands, moving your legs so that you could slip between them. Your knees were bent, and your legs were on either side of him as he brushed his fingers against your clit again.

“God, you have the prettiest pussy I have ever seen,” His simple words caused a gasp to be pulled from you.

His cock replaced his fingers, teasing your clit before sliding the tip inside you. At the feeling, both of you let out satisfied moans. JJ quickly grabbed your hands and intertwined your fingers before fully pushing inside of you slowly. “Jesus Christ,” He was nearly gone. “So fucking good.” All you could do was moan in response.

His thrusts began slow, sliding in and out of you at an agonizing pace, making you cry out at him to go faster. He didn’t listen.

“You look so pretty getting fucked,” He reached his hand down, using his thumb to rub against your clit in the slowest circles. “You’re doing such a good job, sweetheart.”

If you hadn’t been so fucked out, you would’ve been embarrassed at hearing how wet you were desperately cried a pathetic, moaning as he quickly flipped you over and grabbed get enough of you.”

When he slipped out of you, you desperately cried in protest. But he was quick to flip you over and grab your hips, pulling you onto all fours. He gave your hips a gentle squeeze and placed a few kisses on your shoulder. Your skin prickled with goosebumps as he ran his fingers down your spine. Lifting yourself up so your back was pressed against him and your neck was exposed so he could press kisses against you. His arms slid around your waist, his right hand going up to grab at your tits as he nipped at your neck. Your legs felt shaky as he held you up and against him. The moans that filled your ears being this close to him drove you crazy. You didn’t think you would ever get used to hearing him like this. So fucked out and close to coming.

“Fuck J, please go harder.”

“You want me to fuck you harder, baby?” You babbled incoherently in response, making JJ grin.

“Beg me, sweetheart.”

“Fuck, JJ! Please, I need more of your cock. I want you to take me, be rough with me.”

He pushed you forward, forcing you back on all fours. You let out a loud ‘fuck’ when he shoved his cock back into you, not sure how long you could hold yourself up. His hands gripped your hips tightly, keeping you in place, and he slid his cock in and out of you, the room filling with both of your moans.

“Is that what you wanted, baby? Wanted to fucked rougher?”

As he quickened his pace, you stuck your ass in the air and pressed your cheek against the bed, raising your arms above your head as he fucked you. Your fingers were tangled in the sheets, and you knew the neighbors could probably hear you. Out of all the times you had been with a guy, you didn’t think you had ever been this loud. Each time he thrust into you, you let out a high-pitched moan, unable to stop yourself.

His name and curses fell through your lips, and you got closer and closer to coming. You knew you would come quicker than you usually would since you had spent years fantasizing about JJ. You had spent countless nights getting off to the thought of getting to be with JJ, and if you knew him at all-he did too.

“Fuck JJ, I’m getting close,” You whined, your voice shaky as he pounded into you. “Gonna cum!”

“Fuck. Cum on my cock, sweetheart,” you knew you could let go with him. You could tell by his quickened pace and sloppy thrusts.

When you felt him grab your hips hard and pound into you a few more times, you knew you could let go with him.

“JJ! Fuck, I-”

“I know, fuck. I’m gonna cum.” that admission, your back arched as you felt your pussy squeeze around him. The moans leaving you were beyond loud, and you hoped to God none of your friends had decided to come back from the party.

“Fuck.” He grunted as he thrust one final time into you before squeezing your hips tightly. The feeling of him switching inside you sent you over the edge. You let go, pleasure coursing through you as you felt your whole body shake as the feeling shot through your entire body.

“Jesus, baby,” JJ mumbled as his head dropped to your back. You let out a giggle, understanding how fucked out he was feeling.

He slowly slid out, falling onto the bed next to you. You let your hips drop, moving so that you were on your side facing him. You were both breathing hard and knew you would need a shower and clean sheets after this.

“God, I love you.” He kisses your head before standing up and heading into your bathroom. You hear him come back after a few minutes.

“Turn over, baby.” You turn to see him with a warm washcloth; he slowly moves your legs apart and cleans up the mess between them. Your heart melts as you watch him take care of you. Once he’s done, he tosses the rag and lays beside you; you move so that you’re lying against his chest, and he throws his blanket over the both of you.

“JJ?”

“Yea, sweetheart?”

“Thank you for taking me home.”

“Be fucking quiet; you’re gonna wake her up.” JJ snapped, sending a glare over at John B. It was nearly 9 am, and they were the only two awake, the rest of the group fast asleep after the party.

“I am being fucking quiet, dumbass.”

“I don’t need her finding out what happened this morning,” He grumbled, glancing down at his bruised and bloody knuckles. John B’s snort caught his attention, and he glanced up at his best friend, who was looking at his hand.

“Like that won’t give it away?”

“I’ll just say I got into it with some kooks.”

“You’re gonna lie to her?” John B sent him an unimpressed look.

“Jesus, John B! I don’t know what I’m gonna tell her yet.”

“Tell her the truth. That you beat the shit out of our cousin for her,” He shrugged like it was the most straightforward option. “Where is she anyway? Did you take her home?”

JJ faltered at that question, the memories of last night running through his head. He still needed to update John B that your friendship had been properly ruined. But he didn’t know what the two of you were now. Were you dating? Casually seeing each other for now? That was something that he should clear up soon.

“No, she’s uh-“His door creaked, and you were wrapped in his sheets. Your hair was a mess, a couple of marks littered your neck, and your eyes were squinted with sleep.

“J?” You called quietly, and JJ nearly melted. How did he get so lucky? How did this angel have feelings for him? “Can you come back? I miss you.”

You must have been delirious with sleep and not have even noticed John B because there was no way you would’ve felt comfortable looking and speaking this vulnerably in front of him any other time.

“Yea, baby. I’ll be there.” You sent him a sleepy smile and closed the door. JJ nearly jumped up from his spot to get to you.

“Baby?” John B let out, sounding incredibly smug and wearing a grin. “Looks like you finally told her.”

JJ didn’t say anything; he just flipped him off with a smug smile as he closed the door to his bedroom and slipped into bed with you.

“Hi,” He quietly greeted as he settled into his pillow facing you.

“Why’d you leave?” Your voice was laced with sleep as you scooted closer to him.

“I went and saw Dean,” He felt you tense in his arms, and for a second, he wondered if he had made the wrong decision by telling you. He would never regret punching his cousin for the way he treated you.

“J, what did you do?”

“I punched him, and I know you aren’t a fan of that, but-“His words were cut off by pressing your lips to his.

“Thank you, he deserved it,” You quietly mumbled before snuggling back into his chest.

JJ had never loved you more.

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