>> After your grandparents passed, your parents dumped their old, rotting manor on you with zero help. “You’re broke, so deal with it,” they said. Reluctantly, you move into the isolated, creepy estate alone, expecting dust, leaks, and maybe some rats.
pair ; ghostbride!manon bannerman / g!p!reader
tags ; penetration. murder act. blood. soft sex.
-> ‘MYLM’ masterlist.
—
You woke up with a sharp jolt, heart hammering against your ribs like it was trying to escape. For a second you just lay there staring at the cracked ceiling, breathing hard, the leftover haze of whatever happened last night still clinging to the edges of your mind.
Your head throbbed dully behind your eyes. You sat up slowly and looked around.
The big old master bedroom looked the same — dusty, heavy curtains half-drawn, the antique furniture covered in thin sheets of dust that somehow felt thicker now.
You pressed a hand to your chest, then down your arms, across your stomach, checking yourself like you needed proof you were still solid. Everything felt real.
You glanced down and froze.
You were wearing clean clothes. Soft gray pants and a plain white t-shirt that definitely weren’t what you fell asleep in.
Your own stuff, somehow, but freshly washed and neat, like someone had changed you while you were out cold.
The idea made your stomach twist. You ran your hands over the fabric again, half-expecting it to disappear or turn back into the messy shorts from before.
Nothing changed.
“Weird…” you muttered under your breath, voice rough from sleep.
The headache pulsed harder when you stood up. You swayed a little, gripping the edge of the bed until the room stopped tilting.
Your phone. You needed your phone.
You patted your pockets, checked the nightstand, the floor, even under the bed. Nothing. The room felt too quiet, the kind of quiet that pressed against your ears.
You walked to the door and pulled it open, stepping out into the hallway with the vague plan of searching downstairs.
The second your bare feet hit the floorboards outside the bedroom, something felt off. The air was colder.
The light was dimmer, coming from nowhere in particular.
Your stomach dropped.
The hallway stretched far longer than it should have. Way longer.
The walls were lined with old portraits whose eyes seemed to follow you, the wallpaper peeling in long strips that curled like dead leaves. Doors lined both sides, most of them closed, some slightly ajar with pure black behind them.
The ceiling felt higher than before, the whole space stretched and warped like the house had decided to grow overnight.
You knew this hallway. It had never been this long.
“What the hell…” you whispered.
Panic crawled up your throat. You spun around and reached for the bedroom door you’d just come through, ready to slam it shut and pretend none of this was happening.
Your hand closed on empty air. The door was gone.
Smooth wall stared back at you where the entrance to the master bedroom should have been, the wallpaper seamless and unbroken like it had always been that way.
“Fuck… fuck… fuck!”
Your voice cracked. You pressed both hands against the wall, searching for a seam, a crack, anything. Nothing.
The hallway seemed to stretch even farther the longer you stared down it, the far end disappearing into shadow.
Then you heard it.
Soft giggles. Light, feminine, echoing from somewhere behind you.
You turned slowly, every muscle tight. At the far end of the endless hallway stood a woman. She was wearing a beautiful white bridal dress — the kind that looked expensive and old at the same time, lace cascading down her arms and trailing across the floor in delicate waves.
The fabric was slightly translucent in places, catching the dim light. Her dark hair was half-up, soft strands framing a face that was elegant, with eyes that locked onto yours the moment you looked at her.
She stood perfectly still for a second, then tilted her head and smiled, the sound of those soft giggles still lingering in the air around her.
She took one slow step forward.
The hem of the white dress whispered against the floorboards.
You backed up until your shoulders hit the wall where the bedroom door used to be, heart slamming so hard you could feel it in your throat.
The hallway felt smaller all of a sudden, the portraits on the walls leaning in, the shadows growing thicker around the edges of her dress.
She kept walking toward you, that same gentle smile on her face, the bridal gown floating just slightly with every step like it had a mind of its own.
She kept coming closer until the soft white lace of her dress brushed against your legs. Her face was only inches away now, those calm eyes studying you with quiet curiosity.
You could feel the faint chill that always seemed to follow her, the kind that sank into your skin without being sharp.
Your heart was racing so hard it made your vision blur at the edges.
You squeezed your eyes shut and turned your head away, pressing yourself harder against the wall.
“Please don’t kill me… please don’t kill me…” you whispered, the words tumbling out in a shaky rush.
Your hands were clenched into fists at your sides, body locked up tight like if you stayed still enough she might decide you weren’t worth the trouble.
There was a soft, startled sound, and then the cold presence in front of you pulled back all at once.
You heard the faint rustle of fabric as she stepped away.
“Oh, I’m so sorry!” her voice came, gentle and genuinely upset. “Did I scare you? I didn’t mean to. Really, I didn’t.”
You stayed frozen for another second, eyes still shut, before you slowly cracked them open.
She had moved back several steps, hands raised a little like she was trying to show she wasn’t a threat.
The bridal dress still floated softly around her, but the smile on her face had turned into something softer, almost embarrassed.
She was beautiful.
The kind of beautiful that felt unfair in a place this rotten and old. Her hair framed her face in soft waves, her features gorgeous and calm, eyes warm even in the dim light of the endless hallway.
The white lace of the dress made her look like she’d stepped out of an old painting, except she was standing right there looking at you with clear concern.
“I’m Manon,” she said, voice still careful and kind. “Pleasure to meet you… although…” She let out a small, airy laugh, the sound light and a little awkward. “Our first meeting did not turn out well, did it?”
You just stared at her, mouth slightly open, brain struggling to catch up.
One second you were sure you were about to die in a haunted hallway that shouldn’t even exist, and the next this woman in a wedding dress was apologizing like she’d bumped into you at a grocery store.
Your headache pulsed behind your eyes. Your heart was still trying to climb out of your throat. You couldn’t find a single word that made sense.
Manon waited patiently, hands folded loosely in front of her, the long train of her dress pooling on the floorboards behind her like it belonged there.
She tilted her head slightly, watching you with that same gentle expression, as if she had all the time in the world for you to stop looking so completely lost.
You finally found your voice, though it came out thinner than you wanted.
“What… what even is this place?” you asked, still pressed against the wall. “There was a girl last night who went through walls, then a zombie feeding me drinks, and now you’re floating around in a wedding dress. I don’t— I don’t understand any of this.”
Manon gave a small, understanding nod, the soft lace of her sleeves shifting with the movement. She stayed a careful distance away, clearly trying not to startle you again.
“I know it must feel overwhelming,” she said, voice calm and warm. “Most people who come here don’t stay long enough to ask questions. Your grandparents were different. They own this place — they were the ones who helped each of us.”
You frowned, the headache still pulsing behind your eyes. “My grandparents? The creepy ones who collected dead butterflies and talked to walls?”
A quiet smile touched her lips. “Yes. Those ones. They found us over the years — some of us already tied to the land, some of us brought here by accident or worse. Instead of trying to force us out, they made space for us. Treated us like we still mattered.”
She glanced down the endless hallway for a moment, then back at you. “This house became more than a home for the living. It became a place where the ones who couldn’t leave could still… exist.”
You rubbed your temples, trying to make sense of it. “So you’re all just… stuck here? Forever?”
“Not exactly forever,” Manon replied. “But for a very long time. I’m the oldest among us. I’ve been here the longest. The others came later — Lara, Megan, Daniela, Yoonchae, Sophia. Your grandparents helped each one of us settle in their own way.”
You stared at her, still half-convinced this was some fever dream caused by the headache and whatever potion you’d drunk. “And now I’m stuck with all of you because I inherited this place?”
Manon tilted her head slightly, the soft white veil of her hair shifting. “You’re not stuck. The house opened itself to you. That means something. Your grandparents left it to you for a reason. Whether you decide to stay or not is still your choice… but the rest of us have been waiting a long time for someone living to walk these halls again.”
She took one careful step closer, still keeping enough space that you wouldn’t feel trapped.
Her voice stayed gentle.
“I know we must seem frightening. Lara can be reckless. Megan is… something. But none of us wish you harm. We’re just… here. And you’ve become part of this place now, whether you meant to or not.”
You let out a shaky breath, looking at the beautiful woman in the bridal dress who spoke like she’d been waiting decades just to have this conversation.
The hallway still felt wrong and stretched, the portraits still watched, but somehow her presence made the air a little less heavy.
“I don’t even know what to say to any of that,” you admitted quietly.
Manon reached out slowly, giving you time to pull away if you wanted. When you didn’t, she gently took both of your hands in hers. Her skin was cool but not unpleasant, soft in a way that felt almost human.
“Come with me,” she said quietly. “There’s somewhere I think you’ll know.”
She led you down the long hallway that somehow shortened as you walked, the walls shifting until a side door appeared that hadn’t been there before.
Manon pushed it open with one hand and guided you outside into the garden behind the manor.
The moment your feet touched the grass, something in your chest tightened.
You remembered this place.
As a child your grandparents used to bring you here whenever you visited.
They would let you run between the flower beds while they sat on the old stone bench and talked in low voices. You remembered the smell of roses and damp earth, the way the sunlight filtered through the tall trees.
That was almost all you had of them that felt normal.
Everything else — the butterfly jars, the late-night whispering to empty rooms, the way they looked at the walls like someone was answering — had made them feel strange and distant as you grew older.
You had stopped wanting to visit.
You had started calling them creepy in your head long before they passed.
Manon walked beside you in silence for a while, still holding one of your hands. The garden was somehow more alive than you remembered.
Flowers of every color spilled over the edges of the paths, some of them glowing faintly under the soft daylight that shouldn’t have been this gentle around a haunted manor. Bees drifted between blossoms.
The air smelled clean and sweet.
“They were the nicest people I’ve ever known,” Manon said after a while, her voice soft. “Truly.”
You looked at the path under your feet. “Right…”
She didn’t push. She just kept walking with you, the long train of her white bridal dress trailing behind her without ever catching on the grass.
The sunlight caught her from the side, turning the lace almost translucent and painting soft gold across her skin and hair.
For a second she looked less like a ghost and more like something that had stepped out of a painting — calm, luminous, and impossibly beautiful.
You didn’t realize you had stopped walking until she turned back to face you.
“What’s wrong?” she asked, tilting her head slightly.
You opened your mouth, closed it, then tried again. Your voice came out quieter than you meant it to.
“You’re actually… um. Really pretty.”
Manon’s lips curved into a small, almost shy smile. “Yeah?” She stepped a little closer, the sunlight still catching the edges of her dress. “The funny thing is, we undead have many forms. This is just the one I prefer when I’m around someone living.”
She was close enough now that you could see the faint shimmer around her, the way the light seemed to hold onto her a second longer than it should.
Your thoughts scattered. You couldn’t focus on anything except the quiet look in her eyes and the cool brush of her fingers still loosely holding yours.
Manon leaned in slowly, giving you every chance to step back. When you didn’t, she closed the last bit of space and pressed her lips to yours.
The kiss was soft at first — careful, almost hesitant — like she was afraid of scaring you again. Her cool mouth moved gently against yours, and the world around the garden seemed to go quiet.
You felt her free hand rise to rest lightly against your cheek, thumb brushing your skin as she deepened the kiss just a little, still patient, still sweet.
When she finally pulled back, her forehead rested lightly against yours for a moment. Her eyes stayed closed, a soft breath leaving her.
“I’ve waited a long time to do that,” she whispered.
The soft kiss didn’t stay soft for long.
You leaned back in almost without thinking, chasing her mouth, and Manon met you halfway. Her cool hands slid up to cup your face as the kiss deepened, slow and hungry at the same time.
The garden around you faded into a blur of color and sunlight.
She walked you backward until the backs of her legs hit the old stone bench your grandparents used to sit on. She sank down onto it gracefully, the white lace of her bridal dress spilling over the edges like foam, and pulled you with her.
You ended up straddling her lap, knees on either side of her thighs, hands braced on the cool stone behind her shoulders.
Manon’s fingers tangled in your hair as she kissed you again, deeper this time, tongue brushing against yours in a way that made your stomach flip.
You made a quiet sound against her mouth and she answered with a soft hum, one hand sliding down your back to rest at the curve of your waist.
“Manon—” you breathed when she finally let you pull back for air. Your voice sounded rough already. “This is… fuck, this is crazy.”
She smiled against your lips, eyes half-lidded. “I know. You can stop whenever you want.”
You don’t want to. Obviously.
You kissed her again, harder, and she arched up into you. The thin fabric of her dress did almost nothing to hide the shape of her body. You could feel the soft press of her breasts against your chest every time she moved.
Your hands found the delicate buttons along the front of the bodice and started undoing them one by one, clumsy with urgency.
Manon helped, shrugging the lace off her shoulders until the dress slipped down to her waist, leaving her bare from the chest up in the soft garden light.
You stared for a second, breathing hard.
“God, you’re beautiful,” you muttered, almost to yourself.
Manon let out a quiet, shy laugh that turned into a soft gasp when you leaned down and took one of her cool nipples into your mouth.
You sucked gently at first, then harder when her fingers tightened in your hair.
Her skin was cool against your tongue, the contrast making everything feel sharper.
You switched to the other breast, licking and sucking while your hand squeezed the first, thumb brushing over the wet peak.
“That feels good,” she whispered, head tipping back. “Keep going… please.”
You stayed there for a while, mouth busy on her tits, until the ache between your legs got too insistent to ignore.
Your cock was fully hard now, pressing uncomfortably against the soft fabric of the clean pants someone had put you in. Manon felt it.
Her hand slid down between your bodies and cupped you through the material, fingers tracing the thick outline with careful curiosity.
“You’re hard already,” she murmured, almost wonderingly. “May I…?”
You nodded, voice catching. “Yeah. Please.”
She worked the waistband down just enough to free your cock. The cool air hit you first, then her cooler fingers wrapped around the shaft and stroked slowly from base to tip.
You groaned into her collarbone, hips jerking forward into her hand.
“Fuck— Manon—”
She kept stroking you in that same unhurried rhythm while you went back to sucking on her nipples, the wet sounds of your mouth mixing with the quiet rustle of leaves and the soft, breathy noises she made.
After a minute she shifted under you, guiding the head of your cock between her thighs.
The bridal dress was still bunched around her hips; she pulled the fabric aside and you felt the cool, slick heat of her entrance against you.
You both went still for a second.
“You sure?” you asked, voice low and strained. Your forehead rested against hers, both of you breathing the same air.
Manon nodded, eyes soft. “I’m sure. I want you.”
You pushed in slowly.
The first slide was intense — her pussy was cold inside the way Megan’s had been, but tighter, silkier, and already so wet it made the stretch easy. You sank in inch by inch until your hips were flush against hers, both of you letting out shaky breaths at the same time.
Manon’s arms wrapped around your back, holding you close as she adjusted to the feeling of being filled.
“You’re so warm,” she whispered against your ear. “I can feel every pulse.”
You started moving, slow deep thrusts that made the old stone bench creak under you. Every time you bottomed out she made a soft, broken sound and her cold walls fluttered around your cock.
You kept one hand braced on the stone and the other on her breast, squeezing and teasing her nipple while you fucked her in long, steady strokes.
“Feels so good,” you panted against her neck. “You’re so fucking soft inside—”
Manon turned her head and kissed you again, messy and open-mouthed, while her hips rolled up to meet every thrust.
The garden sunlight painted gold across her bare skin and the white lace still tangled around her waist. Birds kept singing like nothing unusual was happening on the old stone bench.
You picked up the pace, the wet sound of your cock sliding in and out of her filling the quiet space between the flower beds.
Manon’s legs tightened around your hips, heels digging into the backs of your thighs as she pulled you deeper.
“Don’t stop,” she breathed against your mouth. “Please— right there— I’m close already—”
You reached between you and rubbed her clit in tight circles while you kept thrusting, and that was all it took. Manon came with a soft, trembling cry, her cold pussy clenching hard around your cock in rhythmic pulses.
The feeling dragged you over the edge right after her. You buried yourself deep and came with a low groan, spilling inside her in thick pulses while she held you through it, fingers stroking the back of your neck.
You stayed like that for a long moment afterward, still joined, both of you catching your breath under the warm garden light. Manon’s hand kept moving slowly through your hair, gentle and grounding.
“You’re not running this time,” she murmured, a small smile in her voice.
You let out a breathless, half-dazed laugh against her shoulder. “Yeah… I don’t think I could even if I wanted to.”
You leaned in again and kissed her, slower this time. Soft little presses of your mouth against hers, then along the edge of her jaw, then back to her lips.
Between each one you murmured quiet things against her skin.
“You’re so beautiful… shit, look at you…”
Manon’s shoulders shook with a soft giggle, the sound light and almost shy. Her cool fingers traced lazy circles on your back while you kept giving her those unhurried kisses, still half in her lap on the old stone bench.
After a while you sat up a little, your forehead resting against hers for a second before you pulled back enough to look at her properly. The white bridal dress was still half-slipped off her body, lace pooled around her waist, her hair a little messy from your hands.
“I’ve been curious,” you said, voice still rough. “Why do you always wear this? The bride clothes. It feels like there’s a story behind it.”
Manon’s smile faded into something softer, more distant. She looked down at the lace covering her lap, fingers absently smoothing a wrinkled fold.
“Yeah…” she said quietly. “It has.”
The memory came to her the way it always.
—
She had been twenty-three. The wedding was held in a grand estate far from here, the kind of place that belonged to old money and older secrets. Her husband, Thomas, had smiled through the entire ceremony, charming and attentive, the perfect picture of a devoted groom. Manon had believed every word of the vows.
She had walked down the aisle in this very dress, heart full, thinking she was starting a life.
The reception had barely ended when everything cracked.
She had gone looking for him after the guests left, still in her bridal gown because she hadn’t wanted to take it off yet. She found him in one of the side rooms with the young maid who had served the champagne all evening.
Thomas had the girl bent over a table, trousers around his ankles, one hand clamped over the maid’s mouth. The wet sounds of him fucking her filled the hallway.
Manon had stood frozen in the doorway, the bouquet still in her hand.
Thomas looked up. His face went white for half a second, then twisted into something ugly.
“Manon—”
“You absolute bastard,” she whispered. Her voice shook but it carried. “On our wedding night? Really?”
He pulled out of the maid and yanked his trousers up, already moving toward her. “Listen to me. You will not make a scene. Do you understand? You will go upstairs, and you will forget what you saw.”
“I will do no such thing.” Manon’s hands clenched around the bouquet until the stems snapped. “I’m ending this. Tonight. I’m going to every guest who is still here and I’m telling them exactly what kind of man they just watched me marry.”
That was when the fear hit him.
Thomas had money. He had power. A public scandal on the night of his wedding would ruin the carefully built image he needed for the business deals waiting in the morning. He couldn’t let her walk out of that room.
“Manon, don’t—”
She turned for the door.
He grabbed her from behind, one arm locking around her waist, the other clamping over her mouth. She fought hard, elbows and heels and the sharp edge of a broken bouquet stem, but he was stronger.
They stumbled into the next room — a small study with heavy curtains and a thick rug. He forced her down. When she kept struggling and trying to scream, he grabbed the heavy brass letter opener from the desk.
The first stab went into her side. The second higher, under her ribs. Blood soaked through the white lace of her wedding dress almost immediately.
Thomas’s face was pale and sweating. “You should have just stayed quiet,” he hissed. “Why couldn’t you just stay quiet?”
He stabbed her twice more before her body went limp.
For a long minute he just stood there, breathing hard, staring at the blood spreading across the white fabric. Then the panic set in for real. He dragged her body through a side door and into the carriage house, wrapping her in an old horse blanket. He had the money and the connections to make a problem disappear — or so he thought.
He planned to bury her on the far edge of the estate grounds before sunrise and claim she had left him in a fit of hysteria.
He never got that far.
One of the older groundskeepers had heard the struggle. The man was loyal to Manon’s family, not to Thomas.
By the time Thomas had the body in the carriage house, the groundskeeper had already ridden hard to the neighboring property — the one owned by a quiet couple known for taking in strange cases and asking few questions.
Your grandparents.
They arrived before the sun came up. They found Manon’s body still in the blood-soaked bridal gown, still warm enough that the tragedy felt fresh. They did not call the authorities first.
They took her themselves, carefully, respectfully, and brought her here — to the manor you now stayed.
They buried her properly in the garden soil beneath the rose bushes, speaking soft words over the grave the way they did for every lost soul they took in.
Thomas was arrested two days later when the groundskeeper’s testimony and the blood evidence in the study became impossible to ignore.
The panic that had started the moment Manon threatened to expose him never really left his face, even in court.
And Manon… Manon woke up three nights later under the rose bushes, still wearing the same white dress.
The lace had become part of her somehow — the last thing she had worn while she was still alive and still hopeful.
—
Back in the present, Manon sat quietly on the stone bench with you still in her lap, eyes distant.
“Your grandparents found me,” she finished softly.
“They gave me a place to rest when no one else would have. That’s why I stay. That’s why I wear this.” She touched the lace at her waist with gentle fingers. “I never got to take it off while I was alive. Now it feels like the only piece of that night that still belongs to me… and not to him.”
She looked at you then, the sadness still in her eyes but softer around the edges.
“I’m glad they left the house to someone who can see us,” she said. “It means their kindness didn’t end with them.”
You sat there for a moment after she finished speaking, the weight of the story settling heavy in your chest.
“I’m sorry to hear that…” you said finally, voice low. Your hand found hers without thinking, fingers curling gently around her cooler ones. “That’s… really fucked up. You didn’t deserve any of it.”
Manon looked down at your joined hands, a small, tired smile pulling at her lips. “It’s fine,” she answered softly. “It was a long time ago. I’ve had years to make peace with it. Your grandparents made sure of that.” She squeezed your hand once, light and reassuring. “You don’t have to look so sad for me. I’m still here, aren’t I?”
You tried to straighten your shoulders a little, forcing a tougher edge into your voice even though the knot in your throat hadn’t fully gone away. “Yeah, well. If that sick fuck was still alive I’d… I don’t know. Do something or punch him. Burn his house down. Whatever.”
You cleared your throat, glancing away for a second. “Point is, he was a piece of shit and I’m glad he got caught.”
Manon’s quiet laugh surprised you. It was soft and genuine, the kind that made her eyes warm again.
“You’re sweet when you try to sound tough,” she teased gently. Then her expression turned a little more playful. “Though you do know I’m way older than you, right? By quite a lot. I’ve watched decades go by in this garden. You’re still young enough that ‘burning houses down’ sounds like a solid plan.”
You blinked, then let out a short, awkward huff of laughter despite yourself. “Okay, first of all, age is just a number when one of us is technically dead. Second—” you pointed at her weakly, “—you’re the one who just told me a murder story while looking like you stepped out of a wedding magazine, so I think I’m allowed to be a little tough-acting.”
Manon grinned, the sadness in her face easing further. She reached up and brushed a strand of hair behind your ear with cool fingers.
“Fair enough,” she said.
The two of you stayed like that for a while longer on the old stone bench, hands still loosely linked, the garden humming quietly around you.
The heavy weight of her past hadn’t disappeared, but it felt a little lighter now that it had been spoken out loud — and a little less lonely with someone living there to hear it.
can you plzplzplz write shy sub g!p reader who doesn't really uhh talk much but gets very vocal/loud whenever Sophia gives her a blowjob and Sophia loving reader's voice so she lowkey js blows reader whenever she has the chance 🤑.. plz🙏🥀
↬ Voice for her only
-> pair ; dom!sophia laforteza / sub!g!p!reader
-> synopsis ; you always been so quiet… until sophia’s mouth on you.
-> tags ; oral. multiple orgasms. etc.
—
You were always the quiet one.
In class, you sat in the back row, doodling in the margins of your notebook instead of raising your hand.
At lunch, you ate alone or with one or two people who didn’t mind the silence. Even in group projects, you contributed just enough to get by—short answers, nods, the occasional shrug. People called you shy. Some called you weird. You didn’t correct them.
Sophia noticed anyway.
She was the opposite; loud laugh, center of every circle, the girl who could command a room with a smile or a raised eyebrow.
You’d known each other since sophomore year, orbiting the same friend group but never quite connecting. Until junior year, when she started sitting next to you in English, borrowing your pens, teasing you for never speaking up.
“You’ve got a voice, right?” she’d say, leaning close enough that you could smell her strawberry gum. “Use it sometime.”
You’d mumble something, face burning, and she’d laugh like it was the cutest thing.
It changed one Friday after a group hangout at her house. Everyone else had left, and you were helping clean up—quietly stacking cups, avoiding eye contact. Sophia watched you from the couch, legs tucked under her, head tilted.
“You’re always so quiet,” she said, not teasing this time. Just curious.
You shrugged, wiping the counter. “Not much to say.”
She stood, walking over until she was right in front of you. “I like quiet. But I bet you’re loud when you want to be.”
Your heart stuttered. You didn’t know what to say—literally.
Words tangled in your throat.
She smiled, soft and knowing, and sank to her knees right there in the kitchen.
Your eyes went wide. “Fia—”
“Shh.” She tugged your sweatpants down slow, fingers brushing your thighs. You were already half-hard—always were around her—and when she freed your cock, thick and heavy in her hand, she hummed appreciatively.
“Fuck, you’re big,” she whispered, stroking once, twice. “And so pretty when you’re nervous.”
You groaned, low and involuntary, hands gripping the counter behind you.
She leaned in, tongue flicking the tip, tasting the precum already beading there. Your hips jerked.
Then she took you into her mouth—warm, wet, perfect. She sucked slow at first, lips stretching around you, tongue pressing flat against the underside. You couldn’t hold back the sound—a deep, shaky moan that echoed in the quiet kitchen.
Sophia pulled off just enough to murmur, “There it is.”
She dove back down, taking you deeper, cheeks hollowing as she bobbed. Her hand stroked what she couldn’t fit, twisting just right. You were loud—moaning, gasping, voice cracking every time she swallowed around you.
“Fuck—Sophia—oh god—”
She loved it. You could tell by the way she moaned around you, the way her free hand slipped between her own thighs, rubbing herself through her shorts as she sucked you off.
You came fast—too fast—groaning her name loud enough that you were glad her parents weren’t home. She swallowed every drop, licking you clean, then looked up with that satisfied smile.
“Your voice,” she said, standing and kissing you so you could taste yourself. “I could listen to it all day.”
After that, it became a thing.
She’d find excuses—any excuse—to get her mouth on you.
In the car after school, parked in the empty lot behind the gym. She’d lean over the console, unzip you, and suck you slow while you gripped the steering wheel, moaning her name until your voice cracked.
At her house when her parents were downstairs watching TV. She’d pull you into the laundry room, drop to her knees behind the door, and take you deep while you bit your fist to stay quiet—but you never could.
Your moans always gave you away, and she’d laugh softly around your cock, loving every sound.
During movie nights with the group, she’d wait until everyone was distracted, then slip her hand into your lap under the blanket, stroking you slow until you were leaking, then lean down and take you into her mouth right there on the couch.
You’d moan into a pillow, voice muffled but still loud enough that she’d pull off to whisper ‘so good’ before going back down.
She loved your voice—the way it broke when you were close, the way you whimpered her name, the way you got louder the deeper she took you.
You were still quiet everywhere else.
But with her mouth on you, you couldn’t hold back.
And she wouldn’t let you.
She’d blow you in the mornings before school if you stayed over, waking you up with her lips around your cock, sucking until you were moaning into the pillow.
In the locker room after her volleyball practice, when the team had left and it was just you waiting. She’d push you against the lockers, drop to her knees, and take you deep while you groaned her name loud enough to echo.
Even in semi-public places—like the back row of the movie theater during a late showing, her head in your lap under your jacket, sucking you slow and quiet until you came down her throat with a choked moan.
Every time, she’d pull off after, licking her lips, eyes sparkling.
“Your voice is my favorite sound,” she’d say.
And you’d blush, quiet again—until the next time she decided she wanted to hear it.
You never stopped her.
You never wanted to.
One day you were sprawled on Sophia’s bed, back against the headboard, scrolling through your phone while she finished up a call with her mom in the hallway.
The room was dim, just the glow from her fairy lights and the screen in your hand. You were in your usual post-hangout gear; loose sweats and a hoodie, comfortable, nothing special.
Sophia slipped back in, closing the door with a soft click. She was in tiny sleep shorts and a tank top, hair loose and wavy, looking like she’d just stepped out of one of your late-night fantasies.
She didn’t say anything at first. Just crawled onto the bed, eyes locked on you with that familiar mischievous glint.
You lowered your phone. “Everything good?”
She nodded, but her focus was already drifting lower, to your lap. “Yeah. Just missed you today.”
You laughed quietly. “I was with you all day.”
“Not like this.” She settled between your legs, hands sliding up your thighs, fingers hooking into the waistband of your sweats. “Been thinking about your voice all week.”
Your breath caught. You knew what that meant.
She tugged your sweats and boxers down slow, freeing your cock. It sprang up, already thickening just from the way she was looking at it—hungry, appreciative.
“Fuck,” she whispered, wrapping her hand around the base, stroking once, twice. “You’re always so ready for me.”
You groaned softly, head falling back against the headboard. “Soph…”
She leaned in, tongue flicking the tip, tasting the precum already beading there. Your hips twitched.
Then she took you into her mouth—warm, wet, perfect. She sucked slow at first, lips stretching around you, tongue pressing flat against the underside as she sank deeper.
You couldn’t stay quiet.
A low moan escaped you, louder than you meant. “Oh god!—Sophia—”
She hummed around you, the vibration making your thighs tense. She bobbed deeper, cheeks hollowing, hand stroking what she couldn’t fit. Spit slicked your shaft, dripping down as she worked you with her mouth and hand in tandem.
You were loud—moaning, gasping, voice cracking every time she swallowed around you. “Fuck!—your mouth—feels so good!”
She loved it. You could tell by the way she moaned softly around your cock, the way her free hand slipped between her own thighs, rubbing herself through her shorts as she sucked you off.
She pulled off with a wet pop, stroking you fast and slick. “Keep making those sounds,” she whispered, eyes locked on yours. “I love hearing you lose it.”
Then she dove back down, taking you to the back of her throat, gagging softly but pushing through, throat tightening around you. You moaned louder, hands fisting the sheets.
“Sophia—fuck—I’m—”
She didn’t stop. She sucked harder, faster, hand twisting at the base while her tongue flicked relentlessly under the head.
You came hard—groaning her name loud enough that it echoed in the room, hips jerking as you pulsed thick ropes down her throat. She swallowed every drop, milking you with her mouth until you were shaking and oversensitive.
She pulled off slow, licking you clean, then crawled up your body to kiss you deep, letting you taste yourself on her tongue.
“You’re so loud when I do that,” she whispered against your lips, smiling.
You laughed breathlessly, arms wrapping around her. “You do it on purpose.”
She nuzzled your neck. “I’d do it every day if I could.”
You kissed her forehead. “You pretty much do.”
She grinned, hand sliding down to stroke you again—slow, teasing. “Yeah, because I’m addicted to your voice.”
And just like that, the quiet girl everyone ignored became the loudest in the room—only for her.
synopsis: it does not matter where they are, sophia has to remind her girlfriend who she belongs to
warnings: 18+ smut, making out, exhibitionism, oral sex (both receiving), blowjobs, fingering, unprotected sex, coming inside, needy and possessive soph, reader uses she/her/hers
word count: 5.8k
[12:57 pm]
It should be illegal to look this hot while organizing the bookshelves.
[Y/N] has heard that countless times ever since she applied for this side job.
She doesn’t understand how doing simple tasks makes her attractive. During library duty, she is in charge of placing books back in their respective spots in the shelves.
That’s it.
She only signed up for this job to fill in the wait time between her classes instead of sitting around and wasting her time. It’s a good way to earn some money on the side, as well. At least she gets paid for being a tall gal and organizing books for a couple of hours. The compliments are just unwanted tips.
[Y/N] pretty much got used to the constant ogling and flirting. A lot of people would just ask (flirt) with her for assistance. What bothers her the most is that they don’t care if she’s busy or not; they’ll still shoot their shot. Other times, it keeps her entertained because people tend to use different tactics and pick-up lines to win her heart.
It’s even more entertaining when her girlfriend is supervising her.
[Y/N] would jokingly flirt back just to raise their hopes and then crush them later. Again, she only does it when she knows her girlfriend is watching. She knows it’s an asshole move, but that’s how she is.
At a table nearby, her girlfriend sits alone with a book in her hands. Sophia is (obviously not) reading the novel for her English class while keeping tabs on the taller girl in case she gets sidetracked by other people.
Thanks to [Y/N]’s attractive looks, Sophia finds her gaze drifting away from the book and staring at her tall backside. Her perfectly fit white dress shirt is tucked inside her pants, and whenever [Y/N] reaches for anything above her head, it stretches and shows off the contours of her back muscles. Her slender hand easily slides the books into the slots where they belong. Those long, ringed fingers remind Sophia of last night and this morning when they were in between her thighs.
Reminiscing about the memory causes Sophia to cross her legs underneath the table as she straightens her back, shaking off any inappropriate thoughts before she loses her sanity. Most of the time, she has strong self-control to keep her from jumping the tall girl—except for this morning.
[Y/N] was almost late to her class because Sophia couldn’t control her hormones.
Meanwhile, [Y/N] has no clue about the dirty ideas filling her girlfriend’s mind as she finishes up one stack of books on the cart.
“Hi, [Y/N].”
To her right, a blonde girl approaches her, and she does that little twirl to look like a schoolgirl in love.
[Y/N] merely glances at her without a care as she wheels the cart to the next section. She proceeds to fill the gaps in the bookshelf. “Hey…”
“Marilyn,” she responds in case she forgot her name (which she did).
“Marilyn, right,” [Y/N] mutters without a care.
The interaction alerts Sophia. She observes the blonde girl with a skeptical glare over the top edge of her book. This is the fourth girl who has approached [Y/N] just this shift alone. Her narrowed eyes drill into the side of blonde’s head as if she’s burning holes through her skull.
If Blondie pulls a funny trick, she’ll get a piece of her mind.
“Is there anything you need?” [Y/N] asks in a rehearsed tone.
Marilyn twirls a wavy strand of blonde hair around her finger. “Hmm… aside from you, I need that book up there.” She points at the dark blue book on the highest shelf of the bookcase.
[Y/N] nervously chuckles, glancing at the black-haired girl behind her to make sure she didn’t hear Marilyn. Sophia’s death glare says otherwise. [Y/N] clears her throat uncomfortably, “I’ll get it for you.”
[Y/N] thanks her genetics every day for being tall enough to reach the highest places. She quickly grabs the book and hands it to Marilyn, hoping that she’ll walk away.
However, the stubborn blonde stays put.
“What are you doing after your shift?”
[Y/N] internally prays that Sophia keeps her cool and won’t drag the girl by her hair if she does shoot her shot.
“I have a literature class,” she replies calmly.
“After that?”
“Um…” [Y/N] scratches her cheek and tries to think of an excuse. “I’m hanging out with my girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend?” Marilyn scoffs. “Since when did you get a girlfriend?”
“A while ago,” she answers, now growing more annoyed with her persistence.
“I’ve never seen you with her.”
“Really?”
[Y/N] finds that hard to believe. Either Marilyn is in denial or she’s legally blind because Sophia is always attached to her like an extra limb. They’re always seen walking around campus and going on dates. Sophia shows her off like a prized possession. She even likes to post [Y/N] on her social media accounts with every chance she gets.
“She’s not here,” Marilyn points out, even though she doesn’t know what this ‘girlfriend’ looks like. “She doesn’t have to know about us hanging out. Tell her something came up.”
A book getting smacked shut startles her.
Marilyn looks in the direction of the noise and finds Sophia setting the book down on the table while glaring at her. With a fake smile and a tilt of her head, Sophia waves at her while her eyes scream murder.
“I suggest you walk away if you wanna keep your original nose,” [Y/N] warns under her breath, continuing her task without another glimpse at the blonde.
Marilyn makes a smart choice by not putting up a fight. Hugging the book to her chest, she steps back and leaves [Y/N] alone to her duties. She scurries past Sophia, afraid she’ll get caught in her trap.
Sophia: 4
Other girls: 0
Dating an attractive woman like [Y/N] isn’t so easy and peaceful. Sophia is getting sick and tired of sitting back and watching these girls eye [Y/N] like she’s a piece of candy.
Fed up, Sophia abandons her stuff on the table and strides toward the unbothered girl immersed in the books. She slides her arms around her waist and presses the side of her face between her shoulder blades. [Y/N] flinches at the contact, but relaxes when she glances over her shoulder and sees the top of Sophia’s head.
“What’s the matter, Fia?” [Y/N] inquires quietly, sliding another book into the gap.
“Nothing,” Sophia sighs, tightening her arms around [Y/N]’s waist. For someone with a cold heart, her body is sure warm and cozy.
It took them a while to date.
It didn’t help that they were too stubborn about admitting their feelings to each other. It was a long game of pushing and pulling—uneasy about being in a committed relationship. Deciding to pull the trigger, [Y/N] confessed first, and then Sophia reciprocated her feelings. Sophia made it loud and clear that [Y/N] had only one chance, and if she screwed it up, they’re over. Sophia doesn’t like giving second chances to many people; she finds them unnecessary and a waste of time.
After they started dating, they hardly displayed pda.
They did not want to be that lovey-dovey couple that made everyone cringe and throw up in their mouths from the excessive pda. They still have the same dislike of public affection. The most they’ll ever do is hold hands to certify their relationship. Although, Sophia would take it up a notch and cling onto [Y/N]’s arm or kiss her cheek when it was necessary—like the other girls lusting over her in the library.
“Why aren’t you reading?” [Y/N] muses, breaking Sophia out of her thoughts.
“The book got boring.” Sophia can hear her chuckle vibrating in her ribcage.
“Well, you’re gonna have to finish it sooner or later.”
“I’d rather do something else,” she whispers into her shirt, but [Y/N] heard her loud and clear.
“Like?” [Y/N] drags out, adding the final book into the space.
Slowly, Sophia’s hands run down her torso, feeling the linen material of her blouse, until they stop at the waistband of her pants. [Y/N] lets out a quiet groan, instantly figuring out her intentions.
“Again?”
“You rushed this morning,” Sophia complains.
“You almost made me late to class,” [Y/N] bites back.
“Still not satisfied.”
“I’m working here.” [Y/N] checks the cart for any more books. There is a short stack left, and it’s a genre that people barely read.
“I think you deserve a break,” Sophia suggests, her fingers idly tracing the hem of [Y/N]’s pants.
“Yeah, from you,” [Y/N] mutters.
Sophia hates [Y/N]’s witty remarks whenever they are directed towards her; they make her feel stupid.
Sophia steps around [Y/N]’s body until she’s in front of her, tilting her head back to stare at the taller girl. Despite wearing heels, she is still shorter than [Y/N] and barely reaches her eye level. Her arms lock around [Y/N]’s neck as she presses herself closer to her front. It’s hard to break down her stone walls, but Sophia knows every trick.
“Ten minutes,” Sophia bribes, touching her neck with her lips. She leaves a pink lipstick mark on her skin without [Y/N] realizing it. Hopefully, it’ll teach girls to back off.
“No,” [Y/N] flat out rejects her without hesitation.
“Nine.”
[Y/N] knows Sophia won’t stop until she gets what she wants. So, [Y/N] puts her hands on Sophia’s hips and gently pushes her away to create some space between their bodies. “I can’t waste any time, Fia.”
Sophia scoffs, cocking her eyebrow. “So you think I’m a waste of time?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You implied it.” Sophia smirks when her [e/c] eyes roll into the back of her head. “It’ll be super quick,” she whispers hastily.
[Y/N] doesn’t have a chance to object when Sophia grabs her hand and drags her to the most secluded and darkest area of the library. Being a bookworm, Sophia knows the place like it’s the back of her hand. She also knows which genre is the least popular among students, and those books hardly ever get checked out.
They end up in the philosophy section where [Y/N] is supposed to work in. Even though [Y/N] is annoyed for getting dragged away, she’s secretly glad for this quick break from work and random girls.
“What’s so important that I have to pause my work?” [Y/N] complains. She already knows what Sophia has planned in her devious mind. It’s just that she likes to tease the Filipina by acting oblivious and testing her patience.
Sophia pushes [Y/N] against the shelf, leaving her startled for a second at her abrupt strength. She hooks her arm around [Y/N]’s neck and brings her face closer. Her lustful eyes study her stern yet pending ones.
[Y/N] clears her throat quietly, trailing her bigger hands up and down Sophia’s waist. “I don’t know if people wanna see the president’s daughter doing sinful things in the library…”
“I don’t care,” Sophia whispers in [Y/N]’s ear before kissing down her jawline. She connects their lips together and gently moves against her, hypnotizing the taller girl under her control. Her hips slowly buck forward and discreetly grind against [Y/N]’s center, earning a short gasp from the latter.
Sophia has to live up to a pristine reputation since she is the daughter of the university’s president. Almost everybody knows that she is the sacred daughter with excellent grades and elegance. Dressed in designer outfits and carrying herself with the utmost self-respect and confidence, she is a role model among students.
With a name and face like hers, she is untouchable.
Imagine the surprised looks on people’s faces when they learned that Sophia decided to be in a relationship with a lowlife like [Y/N].
Despite being in college, [Y/N] still had that urge to cause trouble and be a jerk towards everyone. Sophia had tried to change [Y/N]’s ways, but the stubborn girl didn’t want to. Instead, she warmed up to the Filipina and charmed her way into her heart, making her forget about her controversial personality.
After dating for a few months, [Y/N] had started to behave like a mature adult. Rather than vandalizing the school’s property, she started helping around in the library. Instead of skipping classes, she started attending them so she could have study dates with her girlfriend.
Having Sophia in her life changed her for the better.
Now, if someone were to pass by this aisle and catch Sophia grinding against this troublemaker, her clean image would be tarnished. Not only that, if word gets out, her father can expel [Y/N] from this school and ban her from ever seeing her again.
It’s hard to resist this bold girl, especially when she makes daring choices that can risk them getting caught. Then again, [Y/N] doesn’t care; she loves the thrill.
Sophia pauses her movements and trails her hand downward to feel the prominent bulge on her inner thigh. [Y/N] inhales a sharp breath when Sophia palms her and strokes her through her pants, fingers spread on either side of her cock.
[Y/N] presses her lips together to stifle a groan.
“It’s so easy to control you,” Sophia giggles lightly against [Y/N]’s mouth.
[Y/N] rolls her eyes, annoyed of her teasing already. “Shut up…”
Regardless, [Y/N] bucks closer to Sophia’s hand. Her pants are becoming uncomfortably tight against her groin, and the desire to have a release grows stronger. She will lose her mind if this brat leaves her hanging there with a painful erection for the rest of the day.
“Relax, baby,” Sophia breathes, giving [Y/N]’s tense shoulder a squeeze.
Sophia captures her lips in a heated kiss, eagerly moving against her with hunger. They bite and lick into each other’s mouths like they didn’t just spend this morning making out like hormonal teenagers. [Y/N] runs her palm up Sophia’s thigh and slips under her pleated skirt to graze against the smooth curve of her ass. She squeezes it softly, milking out a sweet moan from Sophia’s throat.
“You’re dangerous,” [Y/N] chuckles.
“But you love it,” Sophia snarks, kissing down [Y/N]’s jawline and leaving more lipstick marks on her skin, but [Y/N] doesn’t mind.
Sophia gives [Y/N] one final kiss on her lips before sinking to her knees on the carpeted floor. Her sickly sweet smile makes [Y/N]’s heart flutter because she knows the meaning behind it.
Sophia’s nimble fingers work on her leather belt, the buckle jingling loudly in the silent aisle as it dangles loose. She jerks the zipper down and pulls her trousers down to her thighs. Being the teasing brat she is, Sophia takes her time testing [Y/N]’s patience by tracing the outline of her length through her underwear, the tip of her sharp nail causing a ticklish sensation.
[Y/N] shudders, tipping her head back. “Princess…” Her voice drops to that low, rumbling pitch that gets her dripping.
The endearing term sends frenzy sparks to Sophia’s core.
Sophia has expressed her hatred towards it whenever [Y/N] would use it on her. In the beginning, [Y/N] used to taunt her and call her a ‘princess’ because she acted like one, especially being the president’s daughter. However, it all depended on how [Y/N] delivered it and the intention behind it. Sophia soon warmed up to the term after learning [Y/N] only used pet names on her lover.
And so far, she is the first and last girl who’s ever earned that nickname.
Sophia peers at [Y/N], whose head is thrown back against the bookshelf as her throat bobs. She roams her hands up her thighs and takes her time feeling the fabric of her underwear under her fingertips, wandering a little too close to the area [Y/N] needs her the most.
“Hurry up, Fia,” [Y/N] grits out impatiently.
“And I thought I was the needy one,” Sophia mumbles under her breath.
She leans closer to [Y/N]’s groin and sticks her tongue out to lick a long, wet stripe over her clothed length. She feels [Y/N]’s firm thighs tense under her palms as she inhales sharply. Her cock twitches against her mouth, a dark spot forming on the fabric where the tip would be.
“Look at me,” Sophia demands in a whisper.
Swallowing hard, [Y/N] tips her head forward and immediately makes eye contact with Sophia. The black-haired girl curls her fingers over the elastic waistband of her underwear and slowly pulls it down. The anticipation is killing [Y/N] on the inside as she keenly watches this devious brat tease her. Ringed fingers tangle into her black locks just the way Sophia likes it.
Chills run down [Y/N]’s spine, and goosebumps rise on her skin when her dick is set free. It’s all veiny, and the flushed tip is embarrassingly leaking a lot.
“God, you’re so sensitive,” Sophia teases, wrapping her hand around the base.
[Y/N] is about to make a retort until her breath gets stuck in her throat when Sophia starts stroking her lazily from the base to the swollen tip, her thumb pressing into the slit. She presses a small kiss on the underside of the head before licking a stripe, moaning at the taste. She can feel the taller girl throb under her touch.
“Soph…” [Y/N] pants out, her eyebrows knitted together.
Sophia ignores her as she takes her time pleasuring her. She swirls her tongue around the tip and licks up the pearly bead accumulating on the slit. She fondles her balls and tugs on them gently. [Y/N]’s grip on her hair tightens, not pushing but holding on. Sophia’s doe eyes hold her hooded gaze as she wraps her glossy, plump lips around her girth, taking in as much as she can into her warm mouth. Both hands dig into Sophia’s hair and gently massage her scalp, causing her to hum in delight. The vibrations in her throat make [Y/N] quiver and curse under her breath.
“So pretty,” [Y/N] growls lowly in pleasure, admiring the obedient princess on her knees before her. It’s hard to suppress the noises when the sight is sinful and delicate. “All for me, right?” she muses with a snarky grin. Sophia moans her answer and continues her work of pleasing her.
[Y/N] will make sure to reward her later—double the efforts.
If Sophia was still with her ex-boyfriend, she wouldn’t be thinking about doing unholy things with him in public. She was so pristine and well-behaved that her sex drive was nonexistent. But once she got a taste of this troublemaker, something inside of her shifted. The risk of being caught doing rebellious things made her crave for more. The adrenaline pumping through her veins felt like drugs.
It didn’t matter how many times her father had scolded her for breaking up with the most perfect boyfriend; it only drove her closer to [Y/N]. And even though her father hates [Y/N] to the core, he’ll tolerate her, as long as she makes his daughter happy.
And right now, Sophia is more than happy.
Her mouth is full of her lover, and her panties are wet. She has [Y/N] putty in her hands. She glances up and notices the erratic rise and fall of her chest, meaning she is getting close.
Unfortunately, they’re on a time limit. [Y/N] would love to let loose in Sophia’s mouth, but right now, she wants to worship her girlfriend more than anything.
[Y/N] forcefully pulls Sophia off with a wet pop, a thick string of saliva between her bottom lip and her cock. “Stop, stop…” she rasps in a strained voice.
Sophia looks up at her in confusion, eyebrows furrowed and her glossy lips twisted into a pout. Before she could question what’s wrong, [Y/N] helps her stand up on her feet and cups her cheeks to pull her in for a short, sweet kiss, not caring if she tastes herself on Sophia’s tongue.
“Why’d you stop me?” Sophia whines.
“If I’m gonna cum, I’d rather do it inside of you.”
Sophia rolls her eyes. “You were gonna do it inside me—in my mouth.”
“Not in that way,” [Y/N] says, adding another kiss on her cheek.
[Y/N] slips her hand between Sophia’s legs under her skirt, cocking her eyebrow at the warm wetness soaked through her panties. “You’re wetter than this morning,” she comments, dragging her fingers across her clothed slit. Sophia’s hips automatically jerk toward her touch as she grips onto her broad shoulders.
Sophia moans quietly when [Y/N]’s long fingers nudge her panties to the side and glide along her slick heat. A small shiver crawls up her spine when the rims of [Y/N]’s cold rings come in contact with her burning skin. [Y/N] spreads her wetness up toward her clit and circles it slowly, the motion making Sophia’s thighs twitch as her back curves. A breath catches in her throat when those fingers dip inside her and press against her soft walls.
Sophia tilts her head back, and [Y/N] steals the opportunity to sensually kiss her throat, mouthing at the soft skin there. [Y/N] is glad that Sophia decided to wear an off-shoulder top today so she can kiss more of her shoulders and collarbones. [Y/N]’s teeth bite at a sensitive part of her neck, and Sophia hisses quietly, finding it difficult to suppress the noises down her throat, especially when [Y/N] adds another finger and curls them deeper. [Y/N] is careful not to leave a hickey on her neck since Sophia still has to go to her classes and meet other people.
Today would be [Y/N]’s funeral if Mr. Laforteza were to find it.
Her possessive nature wants to, but her rational side opposes it.
Instead, [Y/N] focuses on showering kisses and teasing nips onto Sophia’s neck and collarbones. Her nose drags along her thumping pulse, and she breathes in the new floral perfume she had bought last week during their shopping date. Sophia has an extensive collection of perfumes and colognes. Each one has a different scent for different occasions, and [Y/N] loves every single one.
While she loves tasting her skin, she’d rather taste something else.
Sophia whines at the interrupted pleasure when [Y/N] detaches her lips from her neck. In a swift motion, [Y/N] flips their positions and pins Sophia against the bookcase with a soft thud. She drops to her knees and bunches her miniskirt higher so she can see more of her. She peppers kisses along her inner thighs, mumuring how Sophia is so perfect, so cute, and so delicious.
“[Y/N]… Quit stalling,” Sophia complains in a high-pitched voice. She squeaks in surprise when [Y/N] yanks her panties down her legs, forcing her to step out of them so she can pocket them. “Pervert,” she comments with a scoff.
“Only for you.” [Y/N] smiles cheekily at her.
[Y/N] noses along the inside of her thigh, very close to her center, but she doesn’t kiss her there just yet. If she can’t litter marks on her neck, she might as well do it where nobody but her can see them. She sucks on her thigh gently and paints her clean skin with her personalized love bites.
Sophia can’t stand still. She trembles and jerks whenever her girlfriend lingers a little too close to her cunt.
“I got you, princess,” [Y/N] whispers, reassuring her with one last kiss on her thigh. Her lustful eyes lock onto her bare cunt, all slick and swollen. She leans in and puffs a hot breath against her core, making Sophia flinch. She smirks at the reaction and uses her hand to hold her hip steady.
[Y/N] flicks out her tongue and drags a slow line from her entrance up to her clit, gathering her wetness as she groans at the taste. She dives in deeper and seals her lips around her clit to suck gently. She pulls on it hard enough to make the Filipina’s hips jolt from the bookcase.
Sophia’s hands fly to her [h/c] hair as an anchor before her legs give out and collapse on her. She tangles her thin fingers around the strands and pushes [Y/N] closer. She tries her hardest to stay quiet, even though they are hidden in a secluded part of the library. But nothing is ever guaranteed.
“Fuck, you taste so good,” [Y/N] groans, keeping Sophia’s hips still when she starts to squirm. Her mouth grows greedy, licking and sucking like she hasn’t eaten in days. She presses tender kisses on her clit, and then sticks her tongue in between her folds. Her nose bumps against the sensitive bud with each plunge, adding friction that has Sophia moaning her name.
She’s not rushing any of it; she’s savoring it.
Sophia’s cheeks flush red as her chest heaves. “God, [Y/N]…”
Her senses are on cloud nine.
Ecstasy flows through her veins.
She is about to reach her peak.
Until a sound reverberates from the other end of the library.
Sophia snaps her eyes wide open, almost breaking her neck at how fast she looks in the direction of the noise. Pleasure vanishes as anxiety flares up. She feels [Y/N] pause her ministrations when she tenses up.
“W-Wait, [Y/N],” she stammers, weakly nudging her head away.
[Y/N] pulls back slightly to look at her girlfriend, her chin glistening in her arousal. “What?” she questions breathlessly.
“I think… I think I heard something.”
“Oh, now you care about that…”
“I’m serious!” Sophia hisses.
They wait for a few moments to listen for any more noises, but nothing happens. It was probably the creak of the old building or a book falling on its side. [Y/N] dismisses the Filipina’s paranoia and resumes her work.
[Y/N] pushes two fingers inside her and curls them immediately, stroking along her sensitive walls. Her mouth works on her swollen clit relentlessly, providing enough stimulation to inch Sophia closer to the edge. She can already feel the black-haired girl fluttering around her fingers as her noises grow louder.
“C’mon, Fia,” [Y/N] moans lowly, pumping her fingers faster. “Lemme feel you cum on my face.”
Sophia responds with a shaky mewl as her body involuntarily jerks against her mouth. Her orgasm crashes over as she clamps a hand over her own mouth to silence the cry that rips out of her throat. Her hand grips onto [Y/N]’s hair like a lifeline.
[Y/N] doesn’t stop licking her as she draws out every spasm until Sophia calms down. She cleans her up as best as she can before she eases back and stands back up to hold her girlfriend in her arms.
Sophia looks up at the taller girl and blushes at how swollen and shiny her lips are. She unconsciously bites on her lip and swallows the saliva that’s been building in her mouth. Chuckling, [Y/N] tips her chin back up and steals her for another kiss. They both moan into each other’s mouths at the bittersweet taste.
Sophia feels her cock poke her inner thigh and something wet smear against her skin. She glances down and is somewhat surprised at the sight. “You’re hard again,” she remarks, eyeing the appendage that has sprung back to life.
“We’re not done yet,” [Y/N] says between kisses.
“No?”
[Y/N] grips her hips firmly. “You still up for one more round?”
“Mmmhm.”
“Turn around.”
Sohpia complies and spins around to face the bookcase, hands gripping the shelf as her back curves beautifully under the dim lighting. [Y/N] bends her forward and nudges her legs further apart before stepping right in between them. She pulls her hips back, and her cock slides between drenched folds.
“Ready?” [Y/N] breathes out, burying her face in her shoulder.
“Just do it,” the princess seethes out.
Nipping at her bare shoulder, [Y/N] holds herself steady and pushes against her entrance gently. Her slickness allows her to enter with ease as she sinks all the way in until their hips are flush. Sophia bites on her fingers to silence the desperate moan as she feels every inch inside of her. Silky walls stretch around the thick length that makes her feel full. God, she has missed the connection between their bodies badly.
“Fuck, princess. You always feel so good around me,” [Y/N] moans, squeezing her hips. “So fucking tight…”
“S-Start moving,” the Filipina exasperates, pushing back against the taller girl.
With deep breaths, [Y/N] starts moving against her with smooth and tiny thrusts to get used to the feeling. The soft sounds of their clapping echo down the empty aisle, the prospect of getting caught turning them on. Sophia clenches down harder as her heartbeat races. More arousal gushes out of her, wetting her dick and thighs.
[Y/N] clenches her jaw tightly to not let a single noise slip out of her mouth since they are still in a quiet environment. She partly focuses on the ragged breaths exhaling through her nose and the low groans rumbling in her throat. She leans forward to plant a small kiss on the pulse point under Sophia’s jaw.
“You’re already getting tighter,” [Y/N] grits out. Her hand comes around and starts rubbing her clit to stimulate more pleasure.
Sophia throws her head back, veins becoming prominent from her sounds. She whimpers a little too loud for [Y/N]’s liking. Growling, she clasps a hand over Sophia’s mouth to muffle her cries.
“Quiet, princess,” [Y/N] warns, checking their surroundings for any unwanted witnesses.
Delirious, Sophia moans sharply into her palm, blindly gripping onto the hand that’s over her mouth. Her cunt flutters around her cock as it hits the deepest spots in her, making her vision blur with tears of pleasure. Molten heat stirs in her lower abdomen.
[Y/N] makes out the ‘harder’ plea from Sophia, and she happily complies with quicker and deeper thrusts. She ruts into her relentlessly with an end goal in mind. Thank God she has her hand over Sophia’s mouth because she starts letting out little shrieks at the sudden change in energy. Sophia’s eyes roll to the back of her head as her fingernails dig into [Y/N]’s wrist once her senses heighten to their peak.
“Let go, Fia. I can feel you tensing,” [Y/N] urges, shifting the angle of her hips lower to prod at the sweet spot.
Ecstasy clouds her mind as Sophia feels her orgasm approaching at a dangerously rapid pace. Her shaky hand comes down to rub her slippery clit, and that does it.
Sophia’s body convulses against her as she holds onto [Y/N] and the bookshelf for dear life, hips stuttering and ragged breaths muted underneath her palm. She reaches her climax and finally lets loose of the tension in her core. Her warm walls choke her cock before spilling her release.
“There we go,” [Y/N] coos, slowing down her pace as she helps her girlfriend ride out her orgasm. She adores the sweet moans and cute whiny noises from Sophia as she experiences euphoria.
Once Sophia is calmer, [Y/N] pulls her hand away and sees spit and lip gloss smeared all over her palm. Her own hips stutter in rhythm as the tight knot coils in her lower stomach, feeling her balls contract. [Y/N] buries her face into Sophia’s neck and groans her name.
“Baby, I’m close,” she sighs.
“Inside,” Sophia breathes out.
“You sure?”
Sophia nods jerkily.
Soon after, [Y/N] pumps her hips a few more times before burying herself to the hilt as her cock pulses one more time, stuffing her womb with her creamy essence. Sophia moans at being filled while feeling her cock throb inside of her. [Y/N] rests her forehead against Sophia’s shoulder, letting out a huge sigh of relief. Every now and then, she twitches from the overwhelming pleasure while regulating her breaths.
They both pant in a comforting silence, exhausted but satisfied. [Y/N] wraps her arms around Sophia’s waist and holds her in a warm hug. Sophia melts into her embrace, resting her head back against her shoulder. She looks back to catch a glimpse of her flushed and sweaty face. Giggling, she lazily kisses the corner of [Y/N]’s mouth in gratitude.
“Are you happy now?” [Y/N] asks hoarsely, wiping the sweat off her face.
“Hm… about 78 percent,” Sophia replies.
[Y/N] furrows her eyebrows at her weird answer. “78? What about the rest?”
“It was rushed…” Sophia sends a pointed glare over her shoulder. “…again.”
[Y/N] rolls her eyes and groans out loud, not caring if someone else hears her. “I had to pause my shift just to hear that you aren’t satisfied—I even made you cum twice!”
“Make it up to me later,” Sophia says before kissing her chin and easing herself out of her grip. She hisses at how sensitive and sore she is when her soft cock slips out, some of her cum sliding down her inner thighs. She fixes her outfit and combs down her messy hair to appear normal again.
[Y/N] curses under her breath at how worn she is. She picks up her pants and tucks herself back in her underwear, hating the way the suffocating fabric sticks to her damp skin. She is considering skipping class so she can clean herself up again.
That gives her an idea.
While Sophia checks her makeup through her phone’s front camera, a hand squeezes her butt under her skirt. Sophia yelps in surprise. [Y/N]’s tongue licks a long line on Sophia’s neck before whispering in her ear, “Come to my place right now.”
Sophia swallows the small whimper as the tall girl walks away. “B-But I have class.”
[Y/N] turns around, continuing to walk backward, and shrugs her shoulders. “Your loss.”
“[Y/N]—”
“Fine. I’ll go ask Blondie,” [Y/N] says, trying so hard not to laugh at the way her face darkens.
Sophia stomps towards [Y/N] and snatches her wrist, dragging her out of the library without letting her finish her shift.
Summary: A game night with mutual friends leads to Y/n and Megan meeting for the first time. After getting paired together for every game, Megan slowly comes out of her shell while Y/n can’t help but notice how cute she is.
Sophia’s apartment was louder than usual.
Music drifted through the living room while laughter echoed from every corner of the house. The coffee table was overflowing with snacks, empty soda cans, and half-finished bowls of popcorn. A group had already claimed the couch, arguing over what game they should start with, while Daniela stood in the middle of the room trying and failing to organize everyone.
“Guys!” Daniela called over the noise, clapping her hands together. “Can everyone stop talking over each other for like…five seconds?”
Nobody listened.
Sophia laughed from beside her. “Good luck with that.”
Daniela rolled her eyes before raising her voice again.
“We’re doing game night, remember? Which means nobody gets to complain about the teams because I’m making them.”
That finally got everyone’s attention.
Among the group stood Y/n, leaning casually against the kitchen counter with a red plastic cup in her hand. Dressed in a loose black hoodie, dark jeans, and a pair of black Jordans, she looked completely relaxed despite all the chaos around her. She was joking around with a few friends, laughing every now and then, comfortable enough to make almost anyone around her feel at ease.
Sophia pointed toward the front door just as another knock echoed through the apartment.
“Oh, that’s Megan.”
Daniela smiled.
“I’ll get it.”
The door opened to reveal a girl standing quietly on the other side, holding the straps of her cream-colored cardigan close around herself.
“Hi…” Megan smiled shyly.
She wore a simple white top tucked into light blue jeans with white sneakers. Her long dark hair rested neatly over her shoulders, framing a soft face that carried the kind of smile that looked almost apologetic whenever someone looked at her for too long.
“You made it!” Daniela beamed before pulling her into a quick hug.
“I almost didn’t come,” Megan admitted with a small laugh.
“I know.”
“I don’t really know anyone here.”
“You know me.”
“…That’s exactly one person.”
Daniela giggled.
Trust me. By the end of tonight you’ll know everybody.”
Megan wasn’t so sure.
Walking into a room full of strangers had never been easy for her.
As soon as she stepped inside, conversations continued around her like she wasn’t even there. It wasn’t that anyone was ignoring her they simply didn’t know her yet.
Which somehow made her feel even more awkward.
Daniela gently rested a hand on her shoulder.
“Come on.”
She led Megan farther into the apartment.
“Everyone!”
A few heads turned.
“This is Megan.”
The room greeted her with smiles and waves.
“Hi.”
“Nice to meet you.”
“Hey!”
Megan smiled politely.
“Hi…”
Then
Her eyes accidentally landed on someone standing across the room.
Y/n.
For just a second.
Y/n had looked over because Daniela had introduced someone new.
She wasn’t expecting…
…her.
Pretty was the first word that crossed Y/n’s mind.
Not because Megan was trying to stand out.
Quite the opposite.
She looked almost nervous enough to disappear into the wall if she could.
Her smile was small.
Her posture was timid.
She kept tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear every few seconds.
Something about how quietly she carried herself caught Y/n’s attention almost immediately.
Sophia noticed exactly where Y/n was looking.
A grin slowly spread across her face.
“Oh…”
She nudged Daniela with her elbow.
“You see that?”
Daniela followed Y/n’s gaze.
“…No way.”
“What?”
“I think someone already thinks Megan’s cute.”
Before Daniela could tease her, everyone started gathering around the living room.
“Alright!” Sophia clapped her hands together.
“First game!”
“Teams?”
Daniela smirked.
“I’ve got that covered.”
She pulled folded pieces of paper from a bowl.
“Everyone grab one.”
One by one, everyone unfolded their slips.
Megan quietly opened hers.
Blue.
Across the room Y/n unfolded hers
Blue.
Sophia looked at both papers before trying very hard not to laugh.
“Oh.”
“What?” Y/n asked.
“You and Megan are teammates.”
Y/n glanced toward the shy girl.
Megan looked up at the exact same moment.
Their eyes met.
For about two seconds.
Megan immediately looked away.
“…Hi.”
She spoke so softly Y/n almost didn’t hear it.
Y/n smiled.
“Guess we’re partners.”
Megan nodded.
“…I guess.”
The first game ended up being charades.
Each team had one person act while the other guessed.
Y/n looked at the card Daniela handed her.
“…Seriously?”
Daniela snorted.
“No complaining.”
Y/n sighed dramatically before walking to the middle of the room.
She stared at the word.
Then immediately started pretending to swim.
Megan blinked.
“…Fish?”
Y/n shook her head.
She exaggerated bigger motions.
“Dolphin?”
Another shake.
Megan bit her lip, trying not to laugh.
Everyone else shouted fake answers just to distract her.
“Mermaid!”
“Shark!”
“Whale!”
Y/n pointed dramatically at Megan.
“Ignore them.”
She mimed something jumping through the air.
Megan’s eyes widened.
“…Seal?”
Y/n slapped her forehead.
The room erupted into laughter.
Daniela could barely breathe.
Sophia leaned against the couch.
“Oh my god.”
Finally
Megan gasped.
“Penguin!”
Y/n pointed at her excitedly.
“YES!”
Everyone clapped while Megan laughed quietly to herself.
“I can’t believe I got that.”
“You carried that round,” Y/n said as they returned to the couch.
“I definitely didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
A faint blush crept onto Megan’s cheeks.
“…Thanks.”
As the games continued, something slowly started changing.
Megan’s shoulders relaxed.
She laughed more often.
She started talking instead of whispering.
Y/n noticed every little difference.
Whenever Megan got an answer right, Y/n celebrated like they’d just won a championship.
“There we go!”
“I knew you’d figure it out.”
“Let’s go!”
Every time, Megan couldn’t help smiling a little wider.
Eventually they moved on to Mario Kart.
“I’m terrible,” Megan admitted while picking up a controller.
“You ever played?”
“…Once.”
“We’re cooked,” Y/n joked dramatically.
Megan looked horrified.
“I’m kidding.”
Y/n smiled reassuringly.
“I’ll teach you.”
The race started.
Within thirty seconds Megan had somehow driven directly into a lake.
“Oh no.”
Y/n burst into laughter.
“I’m stuck.”
“I noticed.”
“I don’t know how to reverse.”
“Try the trigger.”
“Oh…”
Her kart backed up.
“There you go.”
“I’m still in twelfth.”
“We don’t talk about that part.”
Megan laughed so hard she accidentally drove into another wall.
“Oh my gosh.”
By the third race…
She finished fifth.
“I DID IT!”
Y/n immediately held her hand up.
“High five.”
Without thinking, Megan reached over.
Their hands met with a soft clap.
For just a second…
Neither of them moved.
Then Megan quickly pulled her hand back.
“…Sorry.”
“For what?”
“I don’t know.”
Y/n smiled.
“You apologize a lot.”
“…Do I?”
“A little.”
That made Megan laugh again.
Hours passed without either of them realizing it.
The games changed.
Uno.
Jenga.
Pictionary.
Every single time Daniela announced new teams…
Y/n somehow ended up beside Megan again.
Sophia definitely wasn’t responsible.
Definitely not.
Near the end of the night everyone gathered around the kitchen for pizza.
Megan stood slightly off to the side waiting her turn.
Y/n walked over beside her.
“You surviving?”
“I think so.”
“You looked nervous when you got here.”
Megan looked down at the floor before smiling sheepishly.
“I was.”
And now?”
She looked around the apartment.
People she’d met only a few hours earlier were laughing together like they’d known each other forever.
“I had a lot more fun than I thought I would.”
“I’m glad.”
There was a comfortable silence.
Then
“I’m happy I got paired with you.”
The words slipped out before Megan could stop them.
Her eyes immediately widened.
“Oh.”
“I…”
A blush spread across her face.
“I didn’t mean—”
Y/n chuckled softly.
“It’s okay.”
“I was gonna say the same thing.”
Megan looked back up.
“You were?”
“Yeah.”
Y/n smiled, rubbing the back of her neck.
“You made tonight a lot more fun.”
For the first time all evening…
Megan didn’t look away.
Instead she smiled a real one this time.
Warm.
Comfortable .
The kind of smile that reached her eyes.
Daniela glanced over from across the room before quietly leaning toward Sophia.
“…They’re getting along really well.”
Sophia folded her arms with a satisfied grin.
Told you.”
“You planned those teams.”
“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.”
Daniela laughed.
“You’re impossible.”
Sophia simply watched as Y/n and Megan continued talking in the kitchen, already laughing together like they’d known each other much longer than a single evening.
Helloooo could you perchance write a Nikki freeman x reader in which reader is like bears cousin(or sibling) and they are childhood friends. Reader is trying to help bear confess his love (giving him better advice than Ian did 😭😭) but reader also has a crush on Nikki but they haven’t told anyone about it. Maybe Nikki also has like a crush on reader :))
treat you better ⸝⸝ nikki freeman
content && warnings. fluff, light profanity, bear is mentioned as older than nikki in this, bear is your older brother, fem!reader but i'm pretty sure this can be read by anybody, 4.3k words.
courrier. this took so long, forgive me!! i hope you enjoy this either way, also i did get a little lazy near the end im sorryyyy, happy reading 🩷
queue. treat you better, shawn mendes
“god, i can't do it.”
bear might as well have turned pacing in the living room an olympic sport at this point. he'd been walking back and forth for who knows how long, hands running through his hair every now and then just to tug at the strands and only serve to make him even frustrated and stressed.
he's said those same four words about a million times in the past thirty minutes that you've been here.
i can't do it.
if you're being honest, with how much he's spoke it out loud, he's almost convinced you that he can't do it either. well… whatever he's talking about, you mean, because you can't even remember the topic at hand with how long this has been going on.
all you remember is the guy knocking on your door and barging in the moment he realized you actually opened the door for him. so essentially, he broke in and you both just called it a day.
okay, wait.
now that you're retracing your steps, you think you might remember what your older brother is blabbering about.
“dude, you've said that ten times already,” you finally snap, exasperated at his nonstop murmuring.
bear doesn't pay you any mind, not with his eyes, at least.
“i've said it thrice.”
thrice?
jeez, this kid is really going through it.
those few words only confirmed what you thought was bugging him is exactly what's making him act so stupid.
he's in love, and as much as it pains you to give it to him—your blood brother—of all people, he's the one who came to you begging for advice on how to ask a girl on a date. that certain someone, however, is his coworkers who he sees almost every single day of the week, which would make it awkward if he fucked it up.
huh.
maybe that's why he came to you. he knows you won't lead him down a path that results in failure of any kind.
that kinda makes you feel a little bit better about giving him dating advice.
eugh. okay, maybe not that much, but him coming to you is a compliment in itself. or you think it is, at least. the only time he's ever come to you for something is either for money or a favor.
“thrice isn't a word, dummy,” you deadpan, tossing the tv remote at him without caring if he catches it or not.
much to your dismay, he does.
he groans into his hands immediately after, loud and exaggerated. the sound is similar to what an elephant sounds like.
“this is hopeless,” he sighs in defeat. “i mean seriously, in what ways would she benefit from dating a guy like me?”
i, too, wonder.
that thought doesn't leave your mind though. instead, you nudge his shoulder with yours as he flops onto the empty spot on the couch next to you.
you shrug mindlessly. “it's not hopeless. plus, nikki likes spending time with you. you'd entertain her.”
that sounds terrible.
bear seems to realize it too, his hands drifting away from his face slowly as he furrows his brows at you.
“entertain her?” he scoffs, then quickly shakes his head and focuses on everything you said before the last point. “and sure, but she likes hanging out with me as a friend and nothing more. shit, sarah has more of a chance with her than i do.”
“well, maybe…” bear glares at you, then you continue. “but i don't think she's… y'know. well actually i'm not sure, she could be bisexual, for all i know."
“so you're saying i'm right.”
“no,” you sigh, “that means i don't know because i'm not nikki fucking freeman, bear.”
“so you're saying she likes sarah?” he counters, brow cocked. “aw shit, what if they've been dating on the low and she isn't even attracted to guys at all?”
bear looks at you with the saddest eyes you think you've ever seen from him.
it sort of crushes you to see him like this, especially since you know how long he's been pining for her. ever since he moved into town a couple of years ago and got a job at that sketchy music shop downtown, he found himself infatuated with his coworker, nikki. unfortunately for you, you are also just as obsessed with her as he is.
the reality of it, however, is much worse. he's your older brother, for goodness sake, which means you aren't allowed to make your move before he does. it's some kind of unspoken rule between siblings—or maybe it's just some stupid rule you made up in your head to put a barrier between you and the confession that's inevitable.
but seriously, how are you supposed to tell your brother's coworker that you've liked her since the moment you met her at the park when you two were just kids?
it's not like it's your fault bear decided to move out of state and never got the chance to even consider talking to her and finding out what she's really like.
you and nikki have been friends since fifth grade, "two peas in a pod" one might've called you back then, and that bond hasn't changed—not even over the many years that you two have been in contact. sure you drifted away a little bit after graduation but that's just because everyone was trying to find their way and figure out if they were going to continue school or move in a different direction. unfortunately for bear, he made a plan to move out of your childhood home the moment he turned eighteen and had free will.
during the years that he was out of your life—oh, and did you mention that fact that he cut contact with everyone—how exactly did you spend it? great question. you did what he's now wishing he could've: spending time with nikki after that boring gap year between the end of high school and the beginning of your adulthood.
when the awkward stage between what you thought was "freedom" and the realization that it, in fact was not, you and nikki reconnected. in some old, dingy bar downtown just near her workplace, you'd somehow found yourselves sharing a couple of drinks at the counter and chatting it up about what the two of you had been up to in the past year.
you got her number that night, and ever since then, you'd been creating a strong bond that you enjoyed having with her.
and, if you're being honest, and that amusement slowly twisted itself into something scarily similar to the wretched feeling you've always dreaded—love.
well, a crush, really.
love might be too strong for anyone with a developing crush.
oddly, it feels pretty spot-on to you.
but then bear showed up a few years ago, snagged at job at cassell's, and suddenly he was the one who was seeing her everyday instead of you like you used to.
“bear, i—” you pause, the words caught in the back of your throat. truth is, you don't know how to respond to that.
actually you do, you just don't know how to respond to it in a way that would please your brother and calm his nerves.
with anyone else, you'd have replied, “if they're open-minded, maybe they'd let me slide between them.”
but to your brother?
oh, that'd crush his soul in irreparable ways.
instead, you just sigh. “i'm almost fifty-percent sure she's into both guys and girls,” you reassure, nudging his knee with yours. “just don't stress out about it too much. if she likes you, she likes you. if she doesn't, oh well, there's plenty of fish in the sea.”
bear huffs a laugh, exasperation and sadness mixed into the little noise.
he smiles despite himself, quietly grateful for you and your advice. “i don't understand how, but you always know exactly what to say.”
you almost laugh.
if only he knew.
“yeah well,” you hum. “just don't listen to whatever the hell ian is telling you.”
“so don't call her freaky nikki?”
“fuck no, absolutely not!” you exclaim, eyes widening in bewilderment at when and where he'd gotten that idea from in the first place. “who told you to call her that?”
he sighs, the weight on his shoulder suddenly feeling a million times heavier.
then he murmurs,
"ian."
yeah, that checks out.
if you're being completely truthful, you're kind of glad ian gave the guy such god-awful advice. it makes you feel a little bit like a savior, even if you're helping your brother get your crush wrapped around his finger.
you just wish he didn't barge into your life so suddenly and practically forced you to welcome him back home with open arms. that's not how life works, especially not with how he cut all ties with his family the moment he left town when you were younger. and now he thinks he can come in and swoop nikki off of her feet just like that?
yeah, right.
all you can hope is that when, or if he even does, confess his feelings to nikki, she remembers who raced her down sidewalks on old bikes, helped patch her scraped knees when she'd fall trying to jump over fences, and care for her with every fiber in their being. all you can hope is that she knows who was really there for her back then.
and that person?
that's not bear, never him.
because he didn't notice the way she'd absentmindedly talk faster whenever she was bluffing, nor did he notice the small litter of freckles along her nose.
whatever.
the damage is already close to being done.
and nikki deserves someone more mature, someone who is really willing to put themselves out there instead of sitting in silence in the background.
so you'll just push down that quiet wish.
"so yeah, maybe don't say that," you sigh, your disappointment for bear's brainless coworker only growing. "and please, for the love of god, don't ever even consider calling her that. not even when you're really desperate."
bear nods, a little embarrassed.
a dusty pinky hue crosses his face, further emphasizing how humiliating this conversation has turned.
"okay."
"i think i'm done here," you finalize.
"thank yo—"
"wait," you interrupt, suddenly realizing you hadn't really gave him a starting point. "you know what she likes, don't you? you remember things from when we were kids?"
bear sits there, unmoving.
you almost kick him out of your apartment right then and there, because how does he not remember?!
"right... okay," you murmur, continuing, "well, for a start, she likes crystals. she's more of a... her love language, i'm almost one hundred percent sure it's gift giving and acts of service, maybe a little bit of physical touch but you are nowhere near that yet."
he nods, mentally noting everything down.
you add on.
"she's really into things like that. crystals, i mean, and she just recently lost hers down the drain so... i think that might be a good gift to give her before you ask her out," you explain, brow furrowing in thought. "but don't make it seem like you're trapping her. usually when you give people gifts, there's a lot of thought and intention behind it, so don't lose your mind and cry about how much it was worth or some stupid thing like that if she rejects you." you catch his expression the moment the last words leave your mouth.
"if she rejects you."
he isn't even a little bit reassured.
but then you go on, tone softening, "just don't do anything crazy if she thinks you're not the one, okay? it's more likely she might develop feelings overtime if you're calm and understanding about it. and, bear you did just move back into town not that long ago, so keep that in mind."
you see his shoulders relax in real time, his demeanor calming as he leans back into your couch cushions.
a small smile quirks up at the edge of his lips as he hums quietly. "you know a lot about her. it's kinda surprising... you two never really seemed close when we were young."
okay.
now you're really hoping it goes wrong.
—
maybe you should remind yourself what day it is the next time you give someone advice.
furthermore, you should check your calendar the next time you give your big brother advice on how to ask out your mutual crush.
today was not the day you should've spilled all of that to him, because today is the day you'd told most everyone in your and bear's shared friend group to come over and hang. it's the one day everyone has off, and since neither you or your brother have anything better to do, you both thought it was a great idea to invite everyone over.
now, as the sun slowly falls back behind the horizon, most everyone is piled out here.
ian and bear are inside, having fought over who was the better cook a few minutes prior, most likely still trying to settle that point.
you escaped to the front porch for a minute of silence the moment nobody was looking.
you enjoy company, but today is just.. different. bear still has you hot-headed and with the addition of ian's idiotic jokes and even dumber topic choices, you want nothing to do with either of those boys.
nikki and sarah are the only ones you'd probably join back in for again.
but then you remember how bear hugged nikki when she walked in, hands a little lower than would be perceived as one you'd give your friend. and how sarah practically jumped into his arms when it was her turn for a greeting.
so nobody here is really of interest to you.
they're probably all having the time of their lives anyway, chugging down cans of beer and getting shit-faced.
and that's not really—
"...you need a break or have you officially decided you hate us all?"
you turn, startled.
and there she is—the woman of the hour.
nikki stands there, one foot in the doorframe to keep the front door from shutting, the other bent slightly as she extends her arm. in her hand is a soda, and she smiles softly as if she's giving it to you as a peace offering of some sorts.
despite your mood, you reach your hand out and accept the drink anyway. nodding up at her, you scoot over, making space.
"thanks," you murmur, cracking open the can with a small hiss.
she doesn't sit down right away.
instead she leans against the railing, running a hand through her perfectly messy hair.
her smile only grows at the confused look on your face. "they're idiots, you know."
"spot on," you hum in agreement, a small smirk finding its way on your face. "but they're our bunch of idiots. you can't blame me for sneaking off."
nikki huffs a laugh.
then she pushes off the railing and bends to situate herself onto the empty spot on the stairs next to you.
"mostly bear, though."
you laugh. "oh most definitely bear."
something warm bloomed in your chest the moment her laugh reaches your ears again, soft and gentle like always.
that feeling always finds you whenever you're around her, whenever you watch her do literally anything, even if it's just something simple like... like concentrating when she reads a book or cringing when she tries playing an instrument and the note is terribly off pitch or out of tune.
you only realize nikki's been staring at you for a long moment when you turn your head to glance over at her.
she doesn't even try to hide it, and that somehow makes you feel all fuzzy inside. it's embarrassing, honestly, and you can't believe she hasn't noticed your so very obvious crush on the girl.
"you've been helping him a lot," she comments quietly, stretching out her legs across the last step.
her words make you tense.
does she know about your confession advice?
and did bear finally man-up and ask her out in the few minutes you've been outside?
you reply through grit teeth, trying to play it cool, "yeah well, someone has to. he'd never know what to do with himself if i wasn't here... i just wonder how he made it back when he left town all those years ago."
she snickers, shaking her head.
her knee nudges yours, her skin soft and still cool despite the blazing temperatures that summer always promises.
"you're a good sister."
shrugging, you nudge her back. "just want him to be happy, s'all. and he has nobody to look up to since he's the oldest, so..."
her eyes drift down to her can, half-full and dented on the side, dripping with condensation and leftover water droplets from the cooler she pulled it from.
you tear your eyes away from her before you get too greedy, shaking your head subtly and exhaling heavily.
it's useless.
you and bear don't have too many things in common, but being terrible flirts is the one thing you can bond over.
"hey," she chirps.
your eyes meet hers not a second later. "hm."
"can i... can i tell you something?" there's a puzzled look on her face, one you can't really put a name on like you're usually able to. she's a pretty hard girl to read, but you've found it easier and easier over the years.
"always."
she hesitates for a second.
just a second before she's spilling like a high school girl spreading gossip.
"i think..." a small smile spreads across her face slowly, smug and knowing and dangerous. "i think bear likes someone."
you nearly choke on your drink.
shit.
"you noticed?" you murmur, eyes wide.
"i'm not blind, babe."
babe.
okay, that's completely fine.
she calls everyone that. well, she calls a select few people that, but still. it's something she calls most of her friends.
"yeah," you nod. "right."
nikki sighs then, head hanging low now.
you fight the urge to ask her if she's okay, if she wants to go back inside and lay down.
the sun is blazing right now and you wouldn't blame her. you're sure everyone working at cassell's is probably three seconds from dropping to the floor from heat stroke with how that store isn't air-conditioned properly. hell, you wonder how half of their instruments aren't junk by now.
"i just wish..." she trails off, blowing a stray piece of hair from her lips. she stops herself before she can continue.
instinctively, you glance over again.
she doesn't look unwell.
"what?" you whisper.
"...nothing, nevermind," she dismisses, and you fight the urge to push her towards telling you whatever was about to slip out from between her lips.
her name leaves your lips before the logical part of your mind can catch up.
"nikki, come on."
she looks at you then, eyes gleaming.
"i just wish he didn't—" she pauses, stammering for a moment, "—i wish he didn't like me because i—i... don't..."
your smile faltered.
oh, that's going to hurt when he hears it.
"wha—uhm, why?"
she goes quiet for a long moment.
in that moment, you take the silence and comfortable atmosphere to lean back on your palms, skin warming from the hot pavement of the porch.
everything feels like it's spinning right about now, and you almost drop the conversation immediately because if nikki is about to start trash talking your brother, you want no—
nikki speaks again.
"because i like someone else."
your stomach drops.
right.
yeah.
there was no way she was into either you or your scruffy little brother.
"oh," you say, feigning nonchalance. "cool."
she nods, glancing over.
"...yeah," she murmurs. "i just don't know how to tell him. maybe i'll do it when he finally has the guts to ask me out."
you force a smile.
at least she's not going to be an ass about it.
"i hope it works out," you nod over.
"yeah... me too."
silence envelopes the two of you after those words leave her mouth.
birds chirp somewhere up power lines, the leaves on the trees in your yard rustling with the gentle breeze. it's warm and it does nothing to cool either of you off.
you stare at the grass instead of nikki now, trying very hard not to wonder who it was, but even that was no use when the girl who you have a crush on who doesn't have a crush on you is sitting right next to you. it's pretty much useless to even try, because now that's all that will consume your thoughts until she's really in a relationship and you have to let her go for good. maybe then you'll find yourself bonding with your big brother.
nikki simply sits there, taking one last sip from her can before throwing it on the last step and crushing it beneath her boot. the sound makes you flinch, and the girl beside you chuckles quietly before you even realize you did it. that laugh definitely belongs to someone more worthy of it than you.
you really need to start kicking rocks sooner than later. she's obviously way out of your league and—
"you really don't know who it is?" she laughs suddenly, startling you again.
you blink, confusion painted across your face.
"what?" you scoff.
nikki just stares at you like you've missed some very crucial information that is insanely, painfully obvious.
she shakes her head in disbelief.
"i've liked them forever," she continues, gesturing in the air with her hands slowly.
"lucky them."
"they're really kind."
great!
now she's going to start listing off the many qualities she likes about this asshole.
you wish the ground would open up beneath your feet and swallow you whole. this is more than humiliating.
"they're funny," she sings.
"...sounds nice," you deadpan, then whisper, "wish i was."
she laughs and you almost think she heard you until she adds on, "they've always looked after everyone around them even if they didn't have any reason to."
"for the love of god nikki, just tell me already and stop—"
she's already staring at you when you look over again, and the words get caught in the back of your throat.
and then she laughs.
"it's you, stupid."
everything around you freezes.
because there's no way in hell you heard her clearly.
you point to yourself without thinking.
"me—wait, wait, wait, me?"
she nods slowly, waiting for you to fully process her confession.
you don't believe it because she just made it seem like confessions are the easiest thing in the entire world.
like you haven't been rehearsing your own confession for years on end.
"mhm, you."
you just stare at her.
"but i thought you..."
"you thought i liked your brother?" she hums.
you nod frantically, "well yeah!"
she laughs, a full-body laugh that makes her shoulders shake. she even snorts, quiet but still noticeable, and you fight the urge to not burst out in laughter as well.
you've never seen her act like this.
so weird.
it's almost like she's flustered.
"i love bear."
fuck.
you're moving out of state tomorrow.
"...like an annoying older brother."
"okay."
she scoots closer, knee brushing yours now. she doesn't even need to lean over anymore, she's just... there.
it's suddenly very hard to breathe now.
you've never acted like this either.
"i've been trying to flirt with you for months, yn," she confesses quietly, voice just above a whisper as her eyes flick everywhere on your face. "you've just been so blinded by your jealousy caused by bear's crush that you didn't see it."
consider yourself dumbfounded.
and maybe a little embarrassed because sure, okay yeah, maybe what she's saying does carry a little bit of truth.
"oh," you say, volume dropping. "...you have?"
she groans in faux annoyance.
you wince.
jeez, you're really selling this right now.
"oh come on," she exclaims, "you thought i just really liked borrowing your hoodies for long periods of time? you seriously never questioned, even once, why you never got them back?"
"i never gave you your hair ties back either, so... i guess i thought it was an exchange of some sorts."
she drags her hands down her face.
a low groan escapes the back of her throat again, but this time it's ten times louder and twenty times more exaggerated.
"oh. my. fucking. god!"
"i'm sorry nikki, i didn't know!"
"dude, you wouldn't know a good thing if it slapped you across the face."
you laugh nervously.
this is beyond embarrassing.
but at least you have the chance to finally admit your own feelings now.
"i've had a crush on you since we were kids," you confess finally, tone softer now. your guard lowers, shoulders relaxing. "i just never told anyone because of—"
"because of bear?"
you nod. "because of bear. and also because i didn't want to hurt him immediately after he moved back here."
she smiles so softly you almost die on the spot.
"you're sweet," she compliments, smiling way bigger than you've ever seen. "i like that about you, yn."
"i've also apparently been incredibly dense."
"mmh.. maybe a bit," she giggles.
then she reaches for your hand, pushing away your empty can from between you two. your fingers fit together like they'd been interlocked a million times before.
"so..."
"so?"
she glances up. "are you gonna keep helping bear gather the courage to confess?"
you sigh, frustrated at the reminder.
"i think i have to now," you huff.
she laughs, nudging your arm with her free hand. you just shake your head and look into her eyes, grateful.
"we should probably tell him before he does," she suggests. "so we don't break his heart in a different way."
"sounds good," you nod in agreement. "he'll probably kill me though."
"oh absolutely not!"
you grin, tilting your head.
she just nudges you again. "he's sweet as sugar."
a laugh escapes your throat at that, and nikki squeezes your hand once more.
"he'll probably just complain that he spent weeks asking the wrong person for dating advice," she shrugs.
you hum in response. "...worth it?"
she leans over, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before pulling back.
ion know abt this, but like, imagine f1 driver reader winning a grand prix and (any member) the kats decided to give her a lil treat for winning
↬ Winner’s prize.
-> pair ; sub!daniela avanzini / f1!g!p!reader
-> synopsis ; dani gave you the real prize when you won your race
-> tags ; smut. blowjob. p in v. riding.
—
“And there it is! Y/n takes the checkered flag! An absolutely flawless drive from lights to flag, and she wins the Monaco Grand Prix!”
The commentator’s voice exploded through the team radio as you crossed the line, tires screaming around the final corner. Your heart slammed against your ribs, adrenaline flooding every inch of your body.
P1. Your first Monaco win. The crowd in the grandstands was a blur of color and noise, flags waving wildly as you pumped your fist out of the cockpit on the slow-down lap.
“Beautiful job, champ,” your race engineer said, voice thick with emotion. “You deserve this. Enjoy it.”
You couldn’t stop grinning under your helmet. The harbor glittered under the late-afternoon sun, yachts packed tight, champagne already spraying on the podium deck in anticipation.
You pulled into parc fermé, climbed out to the roar of your mechanics swarming the car, hands slapping your back, pulling you into hugs.
Podium was chaos in the best way. The national anthem, the trophy heavy in your hands, Charles and Lando dousing you with champagne until it soaked through your race suit and ran cold down your back.
You shook the bottle one last time and sprayed it straight into the crowd, laughing when they cheered louder.
Media duties dragged on forever: questions, photos, more champagne forced into your hand.
By the time you finally slipped away, the sun was dipping low over the circuit, casting everything in golden light. Your race suit hung unzipped to your waist, fireproofs clinging to sweat-slick skin, hair damp and messy from the helmet.
You pushed open the door to your private driver’s room in the motorhome and stopped short.
Daniela was already there.
She was perched on the edge of the small couch, legs crossed, wearing a sleek black dress that stopped mid-thigh, thin straps barely holding it up.
Her hair was loose in dark waves, heels high enough to make her legs look endless. She stood the second she saw you, eyes raking over you slow and hungry.
“My campeona,” she said softly, stepping close enough that you could smell her perfume, something warm and spicy. “You were perfect out there.”
You kicked the door shut behind you, the lock clicking loud in the quiet room. “You watched the whole race?”
“Every lap.” Her fingers traced the sponsor logo on your chest, nails light. “Got so turned on watching you dominate the field, I had to come find you.”
You caught her wrist, pulled her in until her body pressed flush against yours. “Yeah? What were you planning to do about it?”
Daniela’s smile turned wicked. She sank down slowly, knees hitting the carpet without hesitation. Her hands went straight to the zipper already half-undone, tugging it lower, peeling the damp nomex away from your hips.
“Give the winner her real prize,” she murmured, looking up at you through dark lashes.
She freed your cock carefully, already thick and heavy from the adrenaline still pumping through you. The cool air of the room hit hot skin, and you groaned low when she wrapped her fingers around you, stroking slow from base to tip.
“Look at you,” she whispered, thumb swiping over the bead of precum at the head. “All worked up from winning. I want to taste it.”
She didn’t wait for permission.
She leaned in and took you into her mouth in one smooth slide, lips stretching wide, tongue pressing flat against the underside. Heat and wet and perfect suction. You exhaled hard, one hand bracing against the wall, the other sliding into her hair.
Daniela moaned around you, the vibration making your hips twitch forward. She took it deeper, relaxing her throat until her nose brushed your pelvis, eyes watering just a little but never breaking contact with yours. Then she pulled back slow, cheeks hollow, tongue swirling around the head before sinking down again.
“Fuck Dani… just like that,” you rasped, guiding her rhythm gently at first, letting her set the pace.
She was greedy, messy, spit slicking her chin, dripping down your shaft. Every time she came up she twisted her hand in tandem, pumping what her mouth couldn’t reach.
You watched her in the mirror behind the couch, on her knees in that expensive dress, hair falling forward, mouth stuffed full of you. The sight alone had your balls drawing tight already.
She must have felt it, because she doubled down, sucking harder, faster, one hand slipping between her own thighs to rub herself through lace panties you could see were soaked.
You tightened your grip in her hair, hips rocking forward now, fucking her mouth in shallow thrusts. “You’re gonna make me come too fast if you keep that up.”
She pulled off just long enough to gasp, “Good. Want all of it. On my face, in my mouth, wherever you want.”
Then she dove back down, taking you to the back of her throat again and humming.
That was it.
You pulled out at the last second, stroking yourself fast and rough. Daniela tilted her head back, mouth open, tongue out, eyes locked on yours.
You came hard, thick pulses striping her lips, cheeks, tongue, dripping down her chin onto the swell of her chest. She caught what she could, swallowing greedily, moaning like it was the sweetest thing she’d ever tasted.
When you finally stopped, chest heaving, she stayed on her knees a moment longer, gathering what she could with her fingers and sucking them too.
You wiped your thumb across Dani’s chin, gathering the last streak of cum, and pushed it past her lips.
She sucked it clean without hesitation, eyes locked on yours, still on her knees like a good girl.
The motorhome room felt smaller now, thick with the scent of sweat and sex, the distant thump of the after-party bass barely audible through the walls.
She looked up at you, eyes glassy, lips swollen and shiny. “More,” she whispered, voice hoarse from taking you down her throat. “Please. I need you inside me.”
You dropped onto the small couch, legs spread, race suit still peeled down to your thighs, cock resting heavy and slick against your stomach, already twitching back to life.
You didn’t say anything. Just looked at her, one brow raised, letting her make the next move.
Daniela didn’t hesitate.
She stood up slowly, heels clicking on the floor, dress riding high enough to flash the soaked lace between her legs. She hooked her thumbs into the sides of her panties and slid them down in one smooth motion, stepping out of them and kicking them aside.
The fabric was ruined, dark with how wet she’d gotten just from sucking you off.
She climbed onto the couch, straddling your lap, knees sinking into the cushions on either side of your hips.
One hand braced on your shoulder, the other reached down to guide you, lining the thick head of your cock against her entrance. She was dripping, slick coating you instantly.
“Fuck… easy,” you muttered, hands automatically gripping her hips.
Daniela just smiled, wicked and breathless. She sank down slow, taking the head first, then more, inch by inch, until she was fully seated, stuffed full.
Her head fell back with a shaky moan, walls fluttering around you, already soaked and ready.
You both stayed still for a second, adjusting. She was impossibly tight, hot, clenching every time she breathed. Your hands tightened on her waist, thumbs digging into soft skin.
Then she started moving.
Slow rolls of her hips at first, grinding down in circles that dragged your cock along every sensitive spot inside her. Her hands braced on your shoulders, nails biting through the fireproofs.
She rose up just a little, then dropped back down, taking you deeper, setting a rhythm that had you groaning again, head dropping back against the couch.
“Sensitive, huh?” she teased, voice breathy but smug, picking up speed. She started bouncing properly now, thighs working, ass slapping softly against your lap with every drop.
You looked to the side—your helmet was still on the floor where you’d tossed it earlier, visor up, scuffed from the race. You reached down, grabbed it, and before she could react, you lifted it and slid it onto her head.
It was comically oversized on her, the visor half-fogging with her breath, her dark hair spilling out the bottom.
You grinned up at her, hands sliding to her ass to guide her harder. “Who’s the better rider now, hm?”
Daniela’s rhythm stuttered. She tried to glare, but it turned into a moan as you thrust up to meet her next drop.
“Sh—shut up,” she gasped, voice cracking, but her hips didn’t stop. If anything, she rode you faster, harder, chasing the angle that made her see stars.
The helmet bobbed with every bounce, absurd and hot at the same time. She looked completely wrecked, dress straps slipping off her shoulders, tits bouncing free, face flushed under the helmet’s shadow, moaning broken and desperate.
You groaned again, the overstimulation turning into pure pleasure, cock throbbing inside her with every slick slide. Your hands gripped her ass tighter, spreading her, helping her slam down harder.
“Shit—… keep going baby.”
She was a mess now, words dissolving into whimpers and half-Spanish curses, thighs shaking but refusing to slow. “Ah—yes… right there…”
You could feel her getting close, walls fluttering wildly, breath hitching. You slid one hand between you, thumb finding her clit, rubbing fast circles.
“Come on my cock, baby. Show me how much you love me. Cmon’ baby.”
She shattered with a choked cry, whole body seizing, clenching so hard around you it dragged you over the edge again. You thrust up deep and came inside her, pulsing hot and thick, groaning her name as she milked every drop.
Daniela collapsed forward, helmet clunking lightly against your shoulder, trembling and panting. You wrapped your arms around her, both of you slick with sweat, hearts pounding in sync.
After a minute, she lifted the helmet off, curly hair wild and static, and tossed it aside with a weak laugh.
“You’re an idiot,” she muttered, but she was smiling, pressing lazy kisses to your jaw.
You smirked, hands still on her ass, keeping her seated on you.
“And you’re late for the after-party.”
She ground down once more, slow and deliberate, making you hiss.
“Then let them wait.”
—
a/n ; i deadass thought anon was requesting ot5 giving r! the ‘prize’ and i almost do it, then i read “any member”…
syn. ♡ your best friend’s mom takes a very unique interest in you.
warnings ♡ legal age gap (dani is 32 reader is 22), pussy eating, tit sucking, handjob, mommy kink, overstim, kinda fem4fem, dacryphilia.
♫ ♡ ridiculous by bwyands, duvet by sailorr.
milf!daniela who, when you met for the first time, knew the effect she had on you. it was written all over your red face, the way her chest pressed into your face when she hugged you.
milf!daniela who loves when you come over, always making sure she makes her best brownies; and leaving you a sweeter treat for later :)
“be a good girl and do what mommy said.”
you and daniela layed in her master bedroom, on her california king-sized bed. her dress and your shirt and pants were tossed on the floor, leaving her naked and you half clothed.
her legs were spread open before you, pussy dripping endlessly. your hands were on her thighs, trembling slightly as your mouth worked on her.
your tongue swirled around daniela’s bud, making her legs shake. tugging at your hair, she begged you to go faster. you did exactly that, letting your finger come down and circle her clit. daniela let otu a low moan, hips bucking against your face.
“don’t you fucking stop, baby.”
milf!daniela who initially said she was too old for you, being a decade older than you. but you’d shrugged it off, claiming ‘age is just a number.’ she smiled at your commitment and rewarded you by riding you that night.
milf!daniela who, when her daughter isn’t home, asks you to come over. it’s not always for sex, sometimes she needs someone to comfort her when her lame excuse of a husband can’t do it.
milf!daniela who, when she’s mad, loves to ride you until she can’t think. you usually take over for that segment, running your hands up and down her hips or telling her ‘let it all out baby’
milf!daniela who loves watching you cry from pleasure. she’ll either kiss your tears or make you speed up; either way makes you even more desperate to release.
milf!daniela who will make one f your favorite foods after sex (which she introduced to you); chicken con pollo.
milf!daniela who refers to herself as mommy to get a rise out of you; it always works.
“tell mommy what’s bothering you” or “yeah? you want mommy’s hands on your cock?”
milf!daniela who is very watchful and protective of you when her husband returns form work. he doesn’t suspect anything between you two, he just doesn’t take a liking to you. watching her defend you definitely gets you going.
milf!daniela whose favorite thing to give you is a handjob. she loves running a hand up and down your shaft, feeling your dick pulse as she smears pre-cum on your tip. she’d coo lightly at your whines, kissing you softly as her hand speeds up.
milf!daniela who cannot stand when her daughter’s friends come over with you and flirt. no matter if it’s fake or real, daniela needs to make it known you’re already taken. maybe she will….
milf!daniela who lets you suck her tits after a long day.
your hands cupped her breast, sucking softly. daniela let out a sigh, stroking your hair lovingly.
“my babygirl is so tired, huh? her professors working her to the edge..”
you nodded, rolling her other nipple between your fingers. your pupils were heavily dilated, her lips finding your forehead as you sucked.
“that’s it baby, make mommy’s tits swollen. you’re doing amazing, suck as long as you want.”
your brain was getting fuzzier the more she spoke, your dick getting hard. you positioned yourself on her thigh, moving to daniela’s other breast.
as you got comfortable on daniela’s thigh, you realized you’d be doing more than sucking her tits. which you didn’t mind at all.
milf!daniela who loves you dearly, and wouldn’t ever think of giving you up.
milf!daniela who, deep down, knows how desperately she needs you.
milf!daniela who will always take care of you, whenever you need her.
That night would forever replay in your mind like a broken record.
The sky was filled with stars, and under a large tree, sat Daniela with her head in your lap, pointing out the random shapes the stars made. You were both barely seventeen and shared dreams of becoming big in the entertainment industry. Daniela had talent. You recognized from the day you both became friends. But apart from talent, she was kind and humble; traits that were rarely seen in someone as popular as Daniela. And somewhere along the line, you fell hard for her, with hopes she fell harder.
And maybe she did.
Right?
The signs she showed didn't tell you otherwise, or maybe that's just how it was in a friendship.
“Can you believe we're gonna finish high school in a few days? No more late afternoon cheer leading practice.” She giggled, her voice holding a hint of sadness. “I wish it wasn't over. But hey, at least I have you.”
Her words made warmth spread throughout your chest. Then she sat up and faced you. “So, are you excited for prom? Oh my god! Mom found this stunning blue dress I have to show you this weekend!”
Oh yes. Prom.
The most awaited event for all seniors.
You hadn't really thought about the outfit. All that was on your mind was asking this Latina- who had been through thick and thin with you, to prom.
“Actually…I…um…”
“Mmhm? What's wrong?”
Your hands were shaking with nerves and she frowned, before taking hold of them. “Hey, you can tell me anything. What's wrong?”
Her intense and concerned stare was not doing you any justice but it was better to say it now.
“Daniela…I…I really like you.”
She smiled, caressing your cheek. “I like you too silly! Aren't we best friends? Actually I love you so much!”
You closed your eyes, fighting back a sob and a laugh because out of all things, Daniela was very oblivious when it comes to things. “Daniela…not like that…” you whispered, “I like you romantically and was wondering if you'd like to go to prom with me.”
Daniela froze and immediately pulled back, putting some space and her reaction made it worse. “I-Wait yn that's…that's so unexpected.”
She nervously began fiddling with her fingers, and when she met your eyes, she saw the tears building up. “Yn I'm so sorry… but I'm going with Nicolas and I really really like him,” she whispered, “I only see you as my best friend. Please don't let this change anything between us! I don't want to lose you!”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and held her hands. “You know what? It'll pass. It's just a stupid crush anyways. And I'm glad Nicolas asked you out. You've been talking about him non-stop.”
Even as you babbled away, Daniela stayed quiet because a part of her wasn't sure what she felt for you. It was definitely love. But was it platonic or romantic?
After a while, you took her home in silence, not even bothering to walk her to her door as you drove off in a hurry to go home and ugly cry into your pillow.
The next morning, you sent Daniela a text, knowing she would most likely worry. You told her you'd be okay and just needed some time to be by yourself. As much as she wanted to reply and protest, she knew you needed it, so she left it as that.
Prom night arrived and the situation had blown over. At least on Daniela's end. Nicolas had come to pick her up and Daniela's mom took pictures of them. Prom was the best night of her life, well, almost the best. She kept checking her phone and the door, hoping you'd text or walk through at any moment. By the time she arrived home, you hadn't contacted her. She sent multiple messages, all which went to deliver.
At least she had the guy of her dreams now, since Nicolas had asked her to be his girlfriend. A week had gone by, Daniela was out with Nicolas when you came over to their house. Ana opened the door and smiled widely. “¡Hola pequeño!” She greeted you enthusiastically.
You smiled, though it quite didn't reach your eyes. “Is Daniela home? I need to talk to her.”
Ana's smile dropped a little, “No she's out with Nicolas right now, is everything okay?”
“No, Ms. Llorente, it's not.”
“Come in. Please.”
She led you into the living room and you took a seat. “I came to say goodbye to her. But she's not here.”
“What's wrong?” Ana asked, sitting next to you. Even though you had a mom, she was like a second one to you. Always giving you equal treatment with Daniela.
“I'll be going away to Slovakia. My grandmother's sick and my family and I are moving there to take care of her.”
Ana nodded understandingly, placing a comforting hand on your shoulder. “Let me call Daniela and tell her to come home. Maybe they're done with their date.”
“No! No it's okay.”
“Yn you're leaving. You'll still keep in contact right? With Daniela? Or even with me?”
You shrugged, not giving a definite answer because you were using this as an opportunity to forget her. After all, being in love with someone won't vanish in a couple months. “I have to go. We'll be leaving for the airport soon.”
Ana got up and hugged you tightly, feeling the tears spring to her eyes. “Mantente segura mi amor,” she smiled through tears, “Make sure to eat and take good care of your grandma.”
You nodded, and wiped her eyes. “Do me a favor please. Don't tell Daniela I stopped by.”
Ana knew it would be difficult keeping it from her daughter but she also valued you like one so she promised not to tell her. “You love her, don't you?”
You froze, and nodded your head in shame. “I'm sorry for everything, yn. You would've made a great lover for her.”
“Yeah well, it is what it is.”
A car horn honked in front of the gates and you stood up, giving her one last hug before heading into your parents’ car. Your mom poked her head out and shouted to Ana, “Take good care of my Daniela!!”
Ana smiled and waved, nodding because the words were stuck in her throat.
When Daniela came home, she was smiling ear to ear, bringing home bags of goodies and other things. She greeted her mom and went to her room, immediately texting Nicolas, not before checking your messages. You still hadn't replied to her texts.
A few weeks in and Daniela had reached her limit. She woke up early and walked to your house a few streets over. But as she arrived, she saw a sign in front of the yard, a padlock on the gates.
‘House for Sale.’
Her entire world became a blur as she raced home in a hurry. The doors slammed open, making Ana jump. “MOM!! YN'S SELLING HER HOUSE!!”
Ana acted surprised, putting down her spatula. But her surprise faded when she saw Daniela beginning to panic, flailing her arms, looking around like a lost child. “Mom, she sold it! Where did she go?! Why didn't she call or text?! Or say goodbye!! Mom, she hates me!! Mama!!!”
Ana caught Daniela as she collapsed into her arms, hugging her mom tightly and sobbing. Ana took hours trying to comfort Daniela and eventually Daniela fell asleep like a baby.
Your sudden disappearance had Daniela spiraling for a few months. She practically rotted in bed until Nicolas and her mom decided to do something about it. So Nicolas would go over every day, chatting with her, listening as she vented everything. Of course, she didn't tell him about the confession part because part of her still wanted a memory to keep between you two, even if it was the downfall of the friendship. Her mom would teach her new dance moves everyday, listen to her sing and perform.
By the age of nineteen, she had broken up with Nicolas because he cheated and she still didn't forget you. The hurt was there, the pain and sadness a reminder of what she lost. She blamed herself and the thing that hurt most was that you never called or texted. Not even once and every night, she would scroll through text messages, old photos, and other things that had you in them. Eventually, auditions opened up for an idol academy. Daniela obviously auditioned, because it was an opportunity to finally make her dreams come through. When she made it in, her family celebrated by throwing a small party.
But once the party reached a climax, she walked into her room, her face a mix of excitement and sadness. She closed the door to her room and sat on the bed, typing messages after messages. She kept your number and used your chat as her personal diary. Giving you updates, venting, all in hopes of you replying. Yet you never replied. And it should've crushed her. But she didn't wanna delete your number. Because if she did, then she'd have nothing left of you.
Two years had gone by, Daniela worked her butt off in dream academy and finally debuted in the group. To say she was happy was an understatement. When her name was called, she wanted to pass out but the joy and excitement kept her awake.
At the end of the announcement, she embraced the other five of the girls she would now be sharing a life with. At home, she laid in her bed and stared at your photo. “I made it, yn,” she whispered, “I hope you see me on TV and feel proud of me. I hope you made it too.”
And somewhere in New York, you had just finished wrapping up shooting for your first ever movie when your mom called. “Yn!! Daniela made it in the group!!”
“Really? That's amazing, mom!”
“I know right? She worked so hard but I'm so pissed at how HARD they had to work.”
You hummed along as you went back to the trailer. After chatting for a while, your mom hung up and you threw the phone down on the couch.
If only Daniela could see how far you've made it too.
Both of you worked hard to make your dreams come through, but you weren't there for each other when it happened.
And maybe, just maybe, this was the chance to meet each other again.
Two years had passed since that day. Both you and KATSEYE were recognized faces in the industry and everywhere you went, you saw their face and they saw yours. It was honestly surreal, knowing one minute you and Daniela were seventeen years old and dreaming of becoming artists and the next, you both were famous icons in the entertainment industry.
The car pulled up in front of the hotel you were staying in. Marlon and Adéla stepped out and rushed in before they could be seen by anyone. You were sitting on the bed, reading through the lines of your next upcoming movie when they burst through the door. “Enough of the reading nerd! Get up and get ready! We're going out!” Adéla plopped right on top of your pages while Marlon plopped on the other side.
“Guys come on. I want to read through my lines.”
“Yeah yeah we get it. But you need to have some fun bro. Your movie promotion literally just ended and you're already jumping into the next? What happened to not overworking yourself?”
You rolled your eyes at Marlon's words even though they were practically true. Scream 5 movie promotion had just ended yesterday and you were already booked and bust. “Even if we go out, where would we even go?”
“Okay! I got three tickets to LE SSERAFIM's concert this afternoon right here in New York.”
You instantly shot up, gripping onto Adéla's shoulders. LE SSERAFIM had become your favorite group and it was shocking even to yourself that KATSEYE wasn't on the list.
“Are you fucking with me?!”
“Girl no! Now get your ass up and get ready.”
While you took a shower, Marlon was picking out your outfit. You took some time to get ready and the three of you made your way to the venue. Many people had started piling in but Adéla had VIP tickets which meant you'd be in a secluded area watching the concert. Marlon got some drinks and snacks and brought them over.
Within the blink of an eye the concert started and you were absolutely mesmerized by the movements of the members, your eyes glued to them with a child-like expression.
And while you were too engrossed, Adéla was greeting the members of KATSEYE who were also here, attending the concert. Marlon nudged you, breaking your intense focus. “Isn't that KATSEYE?”
KATSEYE. The name made you tense up and you hid next to Marlon. Thankfully his height made it hard for you to find. But unbeknownst to you, a certain Latina had already spotted you but she didn't say anything. She stood next to her members, her eyes cast down and welling up with tears.
Halfway through the concert, you left to find a washroom and bumped into someone carrying snacks. “Oh fuck! I'm so sorry-” the woman looked up and made you jump back. Daniela was on the floor, soda soaking through her shirt. She sat up and nervously brushed her skirt. “Let me buy your-” “Cut the crap.”
Now she finally had you cornered and you cornered and there was absolutely no escape.
Before you could protest, Daniela gripped your arm tightly and dragged you in the parking lot, shoving you in her red carpet before locking the door. “Daniela, what are you doing? Let me out.”
She shook her head, her grip on her arm tightening, like she was afraid of letting you go again. She wasn't going to endure years of loneliness again. “Four years…” she whispered, almost like she couldn't believe you were real. “Four years ago you left me without saying goodbye. What did I ever do to you? Hmm?” Her voice was shaky with pent up emotions.
You couldn't reply, instead, you looked down at her hand gripping yours. “Look at me, yn. Why didn't you say goodbye? Why didn't you keep in contact? I was worried my ass off for years!!! Do you understand how lonely I felt?! How much I cried for you at night?!” With each word her voice rose, tears spilling over. The air suddenly became suffocating and you sat there quietly, listening as she poured her frustrations out. “I wanted you to be there. To sit in the crowd during final announcements. I wanted to hear you say you're proud of me… I needed you and you weren't there…”
“My grandmother got sick, Daniela. In Slovakia. So my family and I moved to take care of her. She passed away two years ago.”
“Oh…why didn't you tell me? I'm so sorry for your loss,” her grip has loosened just a fraction, and now her hand was resting on your shoulders, before slowly moving to cup your face.
“I came by your place the day I left. You weren't home. But your mom was and I told her. She said you were on a date with Nicolas.”
Daniela stiffened because the memory of her catching the boy she was so in love with kissing another girl was fresh in her mind. “You guys broke up huh?”
“Yeah. He cheated. It's fine now. I was stupid then. I didn't know what I had…until I lost it.”
You nodded, admiring how much she had grown both physically and as a person. Her natural curls were loose around her shoulders, and her eyes were brighter. “I'm sorry for leaving Daniela. But I wanted to get a fresh start but also had to take care of my grandma. I wanted to get over you,” you admitted the last part quietly but she heard, and she softened.
“Did you get over me?”
You looked down. Have you really gotten over her? These past few years you didn't really feel any bit of sadness from the rejection, but now, being face to face with her, her hands on your face, everything came rushing back in like a flood. “I saw your face on a billboard out of the city,” you smiled, taking her hands off your face.
Daniela felt sad, and hurt, but didn't say anything. Her hands dropped limply to her side and she nodded. “Y-yeah. Yeah we're trending. I saw your movie too. I didn't know you had a thing for thriller,” she teased, her tone suddenly turning light and for a moment, everything felt normal, but it really wasn't. You knew nothing would be the same now. Neither of you are the same seventeen year old you were back then. “Yeah, it's my first major role. I enjoyed it, you know?”
“We both are enjoying what we do. It's nice to see you again.”
“Likewise.”
She was quiet for a moment until she suddenly hugged you. You froze for a while, then reciprocated the hug, melting in her arms. “Don't leave me again. Please.”
She noticed how quiet you were, how your hug was hesitant. “Can we exchange numbers?”
You nodded and gave her your number while she did the same.
Your friendship was fragile, it wasn't as tight knitted as it was back then.
But it was a start.
Because some stories don't get a second chance-they get rewritten.
My feet were killing me by the time I climbed down from the truck.
Ten hours on a construction site did that to a person. My back ached, my palms were rough, and all I could think about was getting inside the school, picking up Audrey, and getting home before she worried herself sick.
I pushed through the front doors and nodded at the secretary on the way down the hall. The building had mostly emptied out already, but I could hear the soft scratch of crayons somewhere ahead. When I reached Audrey’s classroom, she was sitting at a tiny desk with her tongue pressed between her lips, completely focused on a page full of bright colors.
Mrs. Bradford looked up from her clipboard and gave me that tired-but-kind teacher smile.
“You’re late again, Ms. L/N.”
I let out a breath and rubbed the back of my neck. “I know, Mrs. Bradford. Sorry.”
She didn’t answer right away, just looked at me in that way adults do when they know you’ve already had a hard day and don’t want to make it harder. I appreciated that more than I could say.
Then Audrey looked up.
The second she saw me, her whole face changed. She scrambled to gather her crayons, her drawings, and her little backpack all at once, nearly knocking over her chair in the process.
“Mommy!”
She came running into my arms so fast I had to bend down to catch her. I lifted her without thinking, like I always did, and she wrapped her arms around my neck with a dramatic little sigh.
“You’re late,” she said, pretending to be stern. Her lower lip stuck out just a little.
“I know, baby. I’m sorry.”
She pressed her forehead to mine for a second, then relaxed. “It’s okay. I made a new drawing.”
That was all it took to get her smiling again.
I glanced at Mrs. Bradford and gave her a small nod. “Bye, Mrs. Bradford.”
“Good night, Audrey,” she said gently.
Audrey waved with one hand while holding her sketchbook with the other. As soon as we got outside, she was already talking before I’d even opened the truck door.
I helped her climb in, buckled her into her booster seat, and shut the door after checking it twice like I always did. Once I got in the driver’s side, she bounced in her seat.
“Daddy, can you play my song?”
I reached for the aux cord and put on Katseye. The second the music started, Audrey threw her head back and sang at the top of her lungs like she was performing for an arena instead of a beat-up old truck.
I couldn’t help smiling.
The drive home was short, but with Audrey singing and kicking her feet to the rhythm, it felt lighter than the rest of the day had been. By the time I pulled into our driveway, she was still humming under her breath.
I got out first, then unbuckled her and helped her down carefully. She immediately hugged her drawings to her chest and ran toward the door.
Inside, she climbed onto the couch and started showing me everything she’d made.
“This one is a castle,” she said proudly, holding up a page covered in pink towers and tiny windows. “I really want to live in one day.”
“It looks like a good castle,” I said, setting my keys on the counter.
“It has a dance room, too.”
“Of course it does.”
She grinned like I’d said the smartest thing in the world.
While she watched music videos in the living room, I sat at the kitchen table with a stack of bills, a calculator, and the kind of tired that lived in my bones. Numbers stared back at me like they were waiting to win. Rent. Utilities. Groceries. Gas.
I kept going anyway.
That was the thing about being Audrey’s dad. You didn’t get to stop. You didn’t get to fall apart. You figured it out.
A few minutes later, Audrey called, “Mommy, come see this!”
I pushed back my chair and walked into the living room.
On the screen, Katseye was announcing their tour.
Audrey’s eyes were huge. “mommy, can we go?”
I looked at the screen, then at her little hopeful face. She was already imagining it, I could tell. Lights. Music. Dancing. A whole world that felt bigger and brighter than our small apartment ever could.
I forced a soft smile. “Uh, we’ll see, baby.”
Her face fell just a little, but she nodded like she understood.
“Okay,” she said quietly.
I crouched down and brushed a few strands of hair back from her forehead. “Let’s get you to bed, all right?”
She turned off the TV herself and padded down the hall, clutching her sketchbook. I tucked her into bed, pulled the blanket up to her chin, and watched her sleepy eyes blink slowly at me.
“I love you, 3000,” I said.
Her smile was small but real. “I love you, 3000.”
I kissed her forehead and turned off the light.
For a moment, I stood there in the dark doorway listening to her breathing settle. Then I went back to the kitchen, looked at the bills again, and kept trying to make the numbers work.
Because she was worth every hard day.
And because tomorrow I’d do it all over again.
𝒯𝒽𝑒 𝒩𝑒𝓍𝓉 𝒟𝒶𝓎
The alarm blares at 5:00 AM. I groan, slapping it silent before my body even remembers how to function. I shuffle to Audrey's room, peeking in to see her still clutching her Katseye poster like a teddy bear. I leave a note on the kitchen counter: Be good for Mrs. Bradford. Love you 3000.
The construction site is a symphony of noise and grit. I'm on my knees by 7:30, laying rebar in the foundation of what's going to be some luxury condo. The foreman, a man named Rick who chews tobacco and has zero patience, is already on my case.
"L/n! That grid is crooked! You wanna build a house of cards?"
I grit my teeth and adjust it. "Yes, sir."
Audrey POV:
I tried to be brave at school.
I really did.
Mrs. Bradford was giving us a partner assignment, and I sat up a little straighter in my seat when she said we could choose a friend to work with. I looked around the room, hoping somebody would smile at me first.
Nobody did.
The kids in my class were already turning toward each other.
Mia went with Harper.
Eli went with Noah.
Sophie went with Liv.
I waited.
My fingers tightened around my pencil.
No one asked me.
Nobody even looked at me long enough to say my name.
My face got hot, but I tried to keep drawing the little house I was supposed to be working on. I pretended not to notice when a girl at the next table whispered something and snickered. I pretended not to hear when someone said my crayons were “baby colors.”
Mrs. Bradford noticed.
I could tell because her eyes kept going back to me while she walked around the classroom. I stayed quiet and bent over my paper, even though the lines were shaking a little in my hand.
After a while, she stopped beside my desk.
“Would you like to work on this one by yourself today, Audrey?” she asked softly.
I nodded because it was easier than saying anything.
“Okay,” she said, just as gentle as before. “You’re doing very good work.”
I looked down at my page, but my eyes were stinging.
Mrs. Bradford moved away, but I could feel her watching me from her desk. She opened her notebook and wrote something down quickly, her face serious for just a second before she looked back up and smiled at the class.
I kept drawing.
Later, when the others were putting their papers away, one of the girls bumped my chair on purpose.
My drawing slid sideways.
She laughed.
I didn’t say anything.
I just fixed the paper and kept my head down.
Mrs. Bradford saw that too.
Y/n POV:
When I picked Audrey up that afternoon, she climbed into the truck without much of her usual energy.
That told me more than words would’ve.
“You okay, baby?” I asked as I started the engine.
She hugged her sketchbook to her chest. “Yeah.”
It was the kind of yeah that meant no.
I didn’t push. I just turned on her music and let the song fill the space between us.
By the time we got home, her mood had lifted a little. She showed me the picture she’d made in class, and I made sure to tell her how good it was. She liked that. I could tell by the way her shoulders relaxed.
We followed our usual schedule after that.
Snack first.
Then a little time to draw at the table.
Then dinner.
Then a bath.
Then one more song before bed.
It wasn’t perfect. Nothing ever was. But it was ours, and that counted for something.
That night, after I tucked her in and kissed her forehead, Audrey smiled up at me with sleepy eyes.
“mommy?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“I’m glad you came to get me.”
My chest tightened a little.
“I’m always gonna come get you,” I said.
Her smile got bigger before she closed her eyes.
And for the first time all day, everything felt quiet in the good way.
First chapter and i'm taking my fucking time on this one, but how are y'all? its been a crazy few weeks for me but i'm glad to be writing.
your phone is buzzing against the nightstand before your brain even catches up to the sound.
you don’t want to move. your limbs are heavy, the good kind of heavy, the kind that means you were actually asleep and not just lying there staring at the ceiling for hours. the room is dark except for the faint blue glow leaking under the door from the hallway nightlight. you crack one eye open just enough to see the screen lit up.
dani’s name glowing soft across it, and that’s enough to get your arm moving.
you knock the phone off the charger once. it clatters against the wood. twice. your fingers finally close around the cool glass and you drag it under the blanket with you, the charger cable tugging free with a soft scrape. you press the phone to your ear and keep your eyes shut.
“‘lo,” you mumble, voice thick and rough with sleep.
“hey.” dani’s voice is quiet on the other end. quieter than usual. there’s a little pause, like she’s settling deeper into whatever hotel bed she’s in tonight, a couple states away on this stretch of the tour. you can hear the soft shift of sheets, the faint rustle of her moving. “sorry. i know it’s late.”
you hum, already letting your eyes slip shut again, cheek pressed to the pillow. the blanket feels a little too warm now but you can’t be bothered to kick it off. “s’okay. what’s up? you sound… off.”
a soft breath from her end. almost a sigh.
“can’t sleep,” she says simply. another breath, thinner this time. “miss you. the bed’s weird without you hogging all the space.”
you smile a little into the dark, slow and lazy. “mm. you’re the one who steals the covers, baby. i’m just reclaiming what’s mine.”
she laughs, but it’s low. a little fractured at the edges. you don’t think much of it at first. tour exhaustion, probably. shitty hotel pillows, the usual. you shift onto your back, phone still tucked close to your ear, and let the silence stretch comfortable for a second. the only sounds are her breathing and the faint static of the line.
“tell me about your day,” she says after a beat. her voice dips softer. “or… whatever. just talk. please.”
“not much to tell,” you murmur, rubbing at your eyes with your free hand. “woke up, missed you, went to work, ate the chinese leftovers from last night even if they smelled a little criminal. the usual.”
dani makes a small noise, almost a hum, but it catches in her throat. you’re halfway through ranting about the second season of avatar: the last airbender you half-watched earlier— when something clicks.
the way her voice keeps breaking on the inhale. the tiny, wet sounds in the background that aren’t just shifting fabric. the way she’s gone quiet except for those shaky little exhales, like she’s trying to keep them quiet and failing.
your smirk creeps in before you can stop it. heat curls low in your stomach, sudden and sharp, your cock already twitching under the sheets, starting to fill out against the soft fabric of your shorts.
“dani,” you say, softer, a little amused. “are you touching yourself right now?”
silence. long enough that you almost wonder if the call dropped. then a broken little whimper that shoots straight through you, low and needy.
“…maybe,” she admits, voice small and wrecked. “couldn’t stop thinking about you. sorry, i just—fuck—needed to hear you.”
you let the smirk bleed into your tone, low and warm. one hand slides down to palm yourself through your shorts, slow, feeling the heat of your cock already half-hard. “don’t be sorry. what are you using, baby? tell me.”
you hear her swallow. the faint, unmistakable sound of something moving, slow and deliberate, slick and wet. “the one you like,” she says, breath catching. “it’s… it’s in me already. just the tip though. been teasing myself for like twenty minutes before i called.”
“mm. good girl,” you praise quietly, fully awake now. you push your shorts down just enough to free your cock, wrapping your fingers around the shaft and giving it a slow stroke from base to tip, thumb brushing over the head where precum is already beading. “how deep?”
“not—not very. didn’t wanna without you telling me to.” her voice cracks again, needy. “talk to me? please? i need your voice.”
you take a slow breath, letting the moment stretch. no rush. you want to hear every little sound she makes. want to draw this out until she’s shaking and dripping.
“okay,” you murmur, stroking yourself lazily, spreading the precum down the length of your cock until it’s slick under your palm. “push it in a little more for me. slow. feel how it stretches you open? that thick head spreading your pretty pussy?”
dani whines, soft and pretty, and you can picture it so clearly—her in some dim hotel room, legs spread under the sheets, hair messy, biting her lip while she obeys. the wet sound gets a fraction louder, a soft filthy squelch as she takes more of it.
“yeah… fuck, im so full already. feels so good.”
“good. keep it there. don’t move yet.” you stroke yourself a little firmer, twisting your wrist on the upstroke the way you like, the wet sound of your own hand starting to mix with hers over the line. “tell me how wet you are, baby.”
“soaked,” she gasps. “been like this since i got back to the room. thinking about your cock. your mouth. the way you get so hard for me. my thighs are shiny with it, baby. every time i push the toy in it just… slides in so easy.”
you hum, pleased, hand moving a little firmer, thumb circling the sensitive head of your cock and spreading more precum. “that’s my girl. now move it—in and out, nice and easy. match my voice, yeah? every time i say something, you fuck yourself a little deeper. i wanna hear how wet that pretty cunt is for me.”
she does. the wet sounds get louder, obscene in the quiet of the call—slick, filthy, rhythmic. her moans start spilling out, broken and sweet, every thrust punctuated by these little “ah—ah—” noises that make your cock throb hard in your fist. you stroke yourself in time with her, slow and dirty, the wet slide of your palm matching the wet slide of her toy.
you keep your voice low and even. “you sound so pretty like this. all desperate for me while i’m half-asleep in our bed, cock in my hand listening to you fuck yourself. bet you wish it was my cock instead of that toy. stretching you open, filling you up just right. i’d be so deep, baby. deeper than that toy can go.”
“yes—fuck, yes,” dani pants. the toy makes these filthy, slick noises now as she picks up the pace a little, the wet squelch getting louder and messier. “need you. miss your cock so bad. miss how thick you are, how you always make me take it slow at first until i’m begging for more.”
you don’t let her rush. “slow down for me. slower than that. i want to hear every single inch.”
she whines in protest but the wet sounds ease, becoming slower, deeper, more deliberate. you stroke yourself in time with the new rhythm, grip firm but unhurried, twisting at the head on every upstroke until your cock is shiny and leaking steadily onto your stomach.
“good. just like that. tell me what it feels like. be filthy for me.”
“full,” she breathes, voice shaky. “so full. every time i push it deeper i think about how much thicker you are. how you always stretch me so good it almost hurts at first. my pussy’s gripping it, baby. i can feel it pulsing around the toy every time i pull it out a little.”
heat coils tighter in your gut. you keep talking her through it, slow and filthy, drawing everything out. telling her exactly how you’d fuck her if you were there—pinning her down, sliding in deep, grinding against her clit with every thrust—but you keep pulling her back to the present. the sound of the toy. the way her breath hitches. the little whimpers she can’t quite swallow. and all the while your own hand is working your cock, slow and dirty, the wet sounds of your stroking mixing with hers until the line is just full of it.
“fuck, i can hear how wet you are,” you groan, voice rougher now. “listen to that. listen to how filthy that sounds. my cock’s leaking all over my hand just from the noise alone. wish i could see it. wish i could watch that thick toy disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over.”
she moans louder at that, the pace of the toy picking up again without permission. you catch it immediately.
“ah-ah. slow down. i said slow.”
dani makes a frustrated little sound, almost a sob, but she obeys. the wet squelch slows again until it’s deep and filthy and controlled. “please,” she whispers. “i’m so close already.”
you smirk, pumping your cock slower on purpose, teasing yourself the same way you’re teasing her. “not yet. i want more. tell me how you’d take my cock if i was there right now. be specific for me, angel.”
“i’d get on my knees for you the second you walked in,” she says, voice wrecked and desperate. “suck your cock slow and deep, take every thick inch until you’re dripping down my chin. then i’d let you fuck my throat however you wanted—hard, messy, until i’m gagging around you and drooling all over myself, spit running down my neck while you use me.” every filthy detail makes your cock throb harder in your fist. you stroke yourself in time with her words, the wet slide of your palm getting louder, more obscene.
then you remember the fantasy she always loses it over and lean into it hard.
“yeah that’s right,” you say, voice rough now, “i’m gonna fuck you. and you’re gonna love it—i’m gonna fuck your mouth first, push my hard cock right down your throat, make you choke on it until you’re drooling and crying a little. and then i’m gonna pull out and flip you over and slide into that soaked pussy while you’re still gasping for air. fill you up until you’re creaming around me.”
dani’s moan cuts you off, loud and broken. you hear the toy moving faster again, her breathing ragged and high. “please—keep going, tell me more,” she begs, voice completely wrecked. “i’m so close—fuck—”
“not yet,” you murmur, dragging it out, stroking yourself firmer now but still controlled. “slow it down for me, baby. nice and deep. hold it there. feel how full you are for me? feel that stretch?”
dani whines hard in protest but she obeys. the wet squelch slows until it’s almost quiet again. only her shaky breathing fills the line, and the soft wet sound of your own hand working your cock.
you keep talking, voice rough and a little breathless. “i’d pin your wrists above your head and push into you slow. you’d feel every thick inch stretching you open, that tight little pussy trying to take me. i’d bottom out and just stay there for a second so you can feel how full you are, how deep i am. then i’d start fucking you, grinding against your clit every time i sink in, feeling how wet and hot you are around my cock. wouldn’t stop until you came twice, clenching and shaking and dripping down my balls. keep you stuffed and messy the whole time.” your own hand moves a little faster now, the ache building low and heavy, precum dripping steadily down your shaft. you’re both breathing hard. the distance between you is nothing but static and shared need and filthy wet sounds.
“dani,” you say finally, voice tight and rough. “cum for me, baby. wanna hear it. let go while you’re stuffed full. make a mess for me.”
she does. loud and shaking, your name breaking on her lips over and over as she rides the toy through it, the wet sounds getting messy and frantic. the sounds she makes are filthy and sweet at the same time—high little cries and broken moans and your name like a prayer. you follow right after, groaning low into the phone, hips jerking up into your fist as you cum hard, spilling warm and thick over your hand and onto your stomach while you picture her face, her body, the way she always falls apart for you.
after, there’s just soft breathing. both of you coming down slow. the blanket feels too hot now. your hand is sticky. you don’t move to clean up yet. the line is quiet except for the soft sound of both of you catching your breath.
“better?” you ask, smiling into the dark, voice still rough.
“yeah,” she whispers, sated and sleepy now. there’s a soft little laugh in her voice, tired and fond. “i love you so much. i think i just ruined these hotel sheets.”
you laugh quietly, still a little breathless. “i love you more, dani.”
you don’t hang up. neither does she. the line stays open, soft and warm, both of you just breathing together until sleep pulls you under again, sticky and satisfied and a little bit stupid with how much you miss each other.
nikki got really jealous of how sarah was practically throwing herself onto reader while reader was being oblivious to it and then nikki pulled her to the bathroom and fucked her so good that reader had to beg her to stop bc of how shes unable to handle how good it feels. when they finally finished, nikki walked out of the bathroom looking completely satisfied, wearing the biggest smug grin on her face, while reader stumbled out behind her looking disheveled, hair a mess and hickeys scattered all over her neck and collarbone.
Jealousy Looks Good on You
Pairing: g!p Reader x (pre-wish) Nikki Freeman
Warnings: Explicit smut, g!p reader (female anatomy with penis), possessive/jealous sex, semi-public sex, overstimulation, begging, marking, rough sex turning tender, strong language, consensual but intense. 18+ only.
The music store was dead after closing, but the after-hours energy in the back room was anything but. Cassell’s had become the unofficial hub for the group—Bear nursing a warm beer while arguing with Ian over some obscure vinyl, Sarah perched on the edge of the counter like she owned the place, and you leaning against the wall, half-listening, half-watching Nikki move.
Nikki Freeman was magnetic without even trying. Dark hair falling in effortless waves, that easy, bro-y laugh that lit up her whole face, the way her band tee hugged her curves just right when she reached for another record. Pre-wish Nikki was sunshine wrapped in sarcasm, the kind of girl who could tease you mercilessly one second and have your back the next. You’d been circling each other for months—flirty banter, late-night texts about nothing, stolen glances that felt like more.
Tonight, though, Sarah was on a mission.
“God, you look good in that shirt,” Sarah said, voice pitched low as she slid closer to you, her fingers brushing your arm. “Seriously, Y/N. You been working out? Because it’s working.”
You chuckled, oblivious as always, rubbing the back of your neck. “Nah, just the usual. Lifting boxes in the stockroom doesn’t count as a gym, Sarah.”
She laughed too loud, leaning in so her shoulder pressed against yours, her hand lingering on your bicep. “Modest and strong. Dangerous combo.”
Across the room, Nikki’s laugh cut off mid-sentence. You didn’t notice the way her jaw tightened or how her fingers clenched around her beer bottle until the glass creaked. Bear and Ian were deep in their own debate, but Nikki’s eyes were locked on Sarah’s hand on you. The easy smile she usually wore around the group had sharpened into something darker, hungrier.
You were too busy being politely dense to catch it.
Sarah kept going—compliments, teasing touches, that bright laugh that screamed available. Every time she tossed her hair or “accidentally” bumped her hip into yours, Nikki’s gaze burned hotter. You cracked a joke about the new shipment of indie pressings, and Sarah practically melted, calling you hilarious while pressing closer.
That was the final straw.
Nikki set her bottle down with a decisive clink and crossed the room in three strides. Her hand wrapped around your wrist, firm and warm. “Hey. Bathroom. Now.”
You blinked. “What? Nikki, I—”
“Now, Y/N.” Her voice was low, edged with something that sent heat straight down your spine. She didn’t wait for more protests, tugging you toward the narrow hallway that led to the employee bathroom.
Sarah’s eyebrows shot up, but Nikki didn’t spare her a glance. The door clicked shut behind you, and Nikki locked it with a sharp twist of the deadbolt.
The small space felt even smaller with the two of you in it. Fluorescent light hummed overhead, casting everything in a sterile glow that did nothing to hide the flush on Nikki’s cheeks or the fire in her eyes.
“What the hell was that?” you started, but she was already on you.
Nikki pushed you back against the sink counter, hands fisting in your shirt as she kissed you like she’d been starving for it. It wasn’t soft or sweet—it was claiming. Teeth nipping your bottom lip, tongue sliding in hot and demanding. You groaned into her mouth, hands automatically finding her waist, pulling her closer.
“You’re so fucking oblivious,” she muttered against your lips, biting down again. “Sarah’s been throwing herself at you all night and you just… stand there. Smiling. Like it doesn’t matter.”
You pulled back enough to meet her eyes, breathing hard. “Nikki, I didn’t— I thought she was just being friendly—”
“Friendly.” Nikki laughed, short and sharp, but there was no real humor in it. Her hand slid down your front, palming the growing bulge in your jeans with deliberate pressure. You hissed, hips jerking forward. “She wants you. And I’m done pretending I don’t.”
Her fingers worked your belt open with practiced efficiency, shoving your jeans and underwear down just enough to free your cock. It sprang up heavy and aching, already leaking at the tip. Nikki’s gaze dropped to it, dark and possessive, and she wrapped her hand around the base, stroking once, slow and torturous.
“Fuck, Nikki…” Your head fell back against the mirror.
“Yeah?” She pumped you again, thumb swirling over the head to spread the precum. “This is mine. Not hers. Not anyone else’s. Say it.”
“It’s yours,” you rasped, voice wrecked already. “Only yours.”
“Good girl.”
She dropped to her knees right there on the tiled floor, no hesitation, and took you into her mouth in one smooth glide. The wet heat was overwhelming—her tongue flat against the underside, lips stretched tight around your girth. Nikki didn’t tease; she sucked you down like she needed it, hollowing her cheeks and bobbing her head with filthy determination. The sounds were obscene: wet slurps, your choked groans, the faint creak of the counter as you gripped it for dear life.
You tangled your fingers in her hair, not pushing, just holding on as she worked you deeper, throat relaxing to take more. Her eyes flicked up, locked on yours, mascara already smudging at the corners. It was the hottest thing you’d ever seen.
“Shit— Nikki, your mouth…” You thrust shallowly, unable to help it. She hummed around you, the vibration shooting pleasure up your spine.
She pulled off with a gasp, strings of saliva connecting her swollen lips to your glistening cock. “Not yet. I want you inside me.”
Nikki stood, shoving her own jeans and panties down in one motion. She kicked them aside, then hopped up onto the counter, spreading her legs wide. She was soaked—shiny arousal coating her thighs, her pussy flushed and ready. You stepped between her legs, cock nudging against her entrance.
“Condom?” you managed, barely.
“Pill. And I don’t care. Fuck me, Y/N. Hard.”
You didn’t need telling twice. You gripped her hips and thrust in, burying yourself to the hilt in one smooth stroke. Nikki’s head snapped back, a broken moan tearing from her throat. She was tight, scorching hot, walls fluttering around every inch of you.
“God— yes,” she gasped, nails digging into your shoulders. “Move.”
You set a brutal pace, hips snapping forward, the sound of skin slapping skin echoing off the bathroom walls. The counter rattled with every thrust. Nikki wrapped her legs around your waist, heels digging into your ass, pulling you deeper. Her tits bounced under her shirt with each impact; you yanked the neckline down, freeing one to suck a hard nipple into your mouth.
“Fuck, you feel so good,” she whimpered, grinding back against you. “Bigger than I imagined. Stretching me so fucking full.”
You groaned against her skin, biting down lightly as you pounded into her. The angle let you hit that spot inside her over and over, and Nikki’s moans climbed higher, less controlled. One of your hands slipped between you, thumb finding her clit and rubbing tight circles.
She came hard the first time, clenching around your cock like a vice, thighs shaking. “Y/N— oh fuck, I’m—!”
You didn’t stop, fucking her through it, chasing your own release but holding back. The sight of her falling apart—flushed cheeks, lips parted, eyes glassy—was addictive.
But Nikki wasn’t done. She pushed you back after a moment, legs unsteady as she turned around, bracing her hands on the counter and arching her back. “Again. From behind. I want to feel all of you.”
You slid back in with a groan, the new angle even deeper. One hand gripped her hip, the other fisted in her hair, tugging just enough to make her moan louder. You fucked her relentlessly—long, powerful strokes that had her pushing back to meet you, ass jiggling with every thrust.
The mirror in front of you gave the perfect view: her face contorted in pleasure, tits spilling out of her shirt, your cock disappearing between her glistening folds. You reached around to rub her clit again, and she wailed, another orgasm ripping through her.
“Please— Y/N, it’s too much— I can’t—”
“You can,” you growled, not slowing. “You’re taking me so well, Nikki. So fucking wet for me.”
She sobbed out a moan, body trembling as you drove her higher. Sweat slicked her skin. Her walls pulsed around you again and again, milking your cock, but you kept going, grinding deep on every thrust.
By the third orgasm, Nikki was a mess—legs shaking so badly you had to hold her up, voice hoarse from moaning your name. “Stop— baby, please, I can’t take any more— it feels too good, I’m gonna lose it—”
But her body betrayed her words, clenching greedily around you, another wave crashing over her. You finally let yourself go, burying yourself to the hilt and coming hard, pulsing deep inside her as she shuddered through the aftershocks.
You stayed like that for a long minute, both of you panting, your cock still twitching inside her. Nikki’s head hung forward, hair a wild tangle. You pressed soft kisses along her shoulder, gentling your hold.
“Mine,” she whispered, voice raw. “You’re mine, Y/N.”
“Yeah,” you murmured, nuzzling her neck. “All yours.”
When you finally pulled out, Nikki turned and kissed you slow and deep, tasting like satisfaction. You helped her clean up as best you could with paper towels, but there was no hiding what had happened. Her lips were swollen, cheeks flushed, and you’d left a trail of dark hickeys blooming across her neck and collarbone like a claim.
Nikki didn’t seem to mind. She pulled her clothes back on with a lazy grin, the smugness already settling in.
You looked wrecked—hair messed up from her fingers, shirt wrinkled, a few scratches on your shoulders. Your cock was still half-hard in your jeans, sensitive and spent.
Nikki unlocked the door and stepped out first, chin high, that biggest, most satisfied smirk on her face. She looked like she’d just won the lottery and fucked the prize. The group was still in the back room—Sarah’s eyes widened at the sight of her, Bear choking on his beer mid-sip.
Nikki sauntered back like nothing happened, grabbing her beer and taking a long, casual sip.
You stumbled out a few seconds later, trying and failing to look composed. Hair sticking up wildly, shirt untucked, fresh hickeys stark against your skin where your collar didn’t quite cover. Your legs felt like jelly; every step reminded you of how thoroughly she’d taken you apart and put you back together.
Sarah’s mouth opened, then closed. Ian raised an eyebrow. Bear just stared.
Nikki leaned back against the counter, crossing her arms under her chest, that smug grin widening as she caught your eye. “What? You all look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You shot her a look—half embarrassed, half turned on again already. She winked.
The night wasn’t over, but one thing was crystal clear: Sarah could throw herself all she wanted. Nikki had made her point, loud and wet and unforgettable.
And you’d never been more okay with being claimed.
After a disappointing first date Lara calls her best friend Y/N, for a ride home. A late night ice cream run turns into an honest conversation, unexpected flirting, and a challenge that could change their friendship forever.
Summary: You always liked your body, what's yours is yours. But one day during a concert when Megan and the other Katseye members drenched your clothing in a water gun fight in a concert, it revealed your muscles and titian build. This set the internet and netizens crazy. This also drove Manon, you girlfriend crazy with jealousy of course.
After all these years of hiding and secretly working out, no one in KATSEYE expected you to be buff and big-boned. This was because you hid intentionally under layers upon layers of baggy clothes, which seemed to swallow your frame and conceal the strength built into your arms and shoulders.
You did this to preserve your soft and cute image of being the second youngest of the group, right after Yoonchae of course.
No one knew this secret of yours. Everyone—except Manon.
This girl knew mostly everything about you.
That’s because not too long ago you started dating her. And with dating her, you slowly began revealing your muscles to her.
And when you did…
Let’s just say, Manon was anything but gentle with you.
But internally, you knew you liked this side of Manon.
Standing in the green room waiting for the concert was quite overwhelming.
You, being one of the members of KATSEYE, had always found solace in listening to music right before concerts. Today was no exception.
Your headphones sat over your ears while the muffled sound of the roaring crowd echoed through the walls. Even through the thick doors, you could hear the fans chanting.
You leaned back against the couch, oversized white shirt draping down to your mid-thigh and your usual baggy grey sweats hanging loosely from your hips.
Just how you liked it.
Across the room the other members were buzzing with energy.
“Water guns are going to make this concert insane,” Megan said excitedly while inspecting one of the bright neon blasters that were being used for the concert later.
“You’re going to start chaos,” Sophia huffed out with giggles.
“I start chaos?” Megan pointed the toy gun at her dramatically. “Please. I create memories.”
“Memories of us getting yelled at by management,” Daniela added with a grin.
You chuckled quietly to yourself, pulling your headphones down around your neck.
That’s when Manon walked over.
She looked you up and down slowly.
Your oversized clothes.
Your relaxed posture.
The small knowing smirk on her lips made your stomach flip.
Manon leaned down slightly so only you could hear.
“Still hiding them?” she whispered teasingly.
You shrugged casually. “What? My incredibly normal and average body?”
She rolled her eyes.
“You forget,” she murmured, poking your shoulder, "I seen what those thighs can do when I'm all up in them..."
Your ears warmed just hearing that.
Before you could respond, Megan suddenly clapped loudly.
“Alright girls! Places! We’re starting!”
The stage lights were blinding.
The crowd was already screaming even though the concert hadn’t technically started yet.
You moved through soundcheck like it was second nature—stretching, singing small parts of the setlist, checking the in-ears.
Effortless.
“Y/N sounds perfect,” Lara said from the mic.
“Of course I do,” you joked lazily.
Manon snorted into her mic. “Confidence today, huh?”
“You like it.”
“I never said that.”
But the smile she gave you said otherwise.
And then it began.
The bass shook the entire arena.
The crowd exploded.
You and the members ran onto the stage as the opening track blasted through the speakers.
Lights flashed.
Fans screamed.
Choreography flowed perfectly as you danced through the setlist like muscle memory had taken over.
Your oversized white shirt flapped around you with every sharp movement.
Baggy sweats hiding everything.
Exactly like always.
About an hour and a half into the concert, the atmosphere changed.
The playful part of the show, the more relaxed part where you get to interact with the crowd.
And mostly where now you get to soak some fans with some water guns.
Megan ran across the stage laughing maniacally.
“WATER WAR TIME!” she yelled into her mic.
The crowd screamed louder.
Daniela immediately sprayed the front rows.
Sophia dodged behind a speaker.
“NO—NOT THE HAIR!” she shrieked.
You laughed, jogging backward across the stage.
“You guys are insane!”
“Y/N LOOK OUT!” Lara shouted.
Too late.
Megan turned the giant water gun toward you.
“Oh no you don’t,” you warned.
She grinned.
“Oh yes I do.”
PSHHHHHHH—
A huge stream of water blasted straight into your chest.
The crowd roared.
“MEGAN!” you shouted, shielding your face.
But then Daniela joined.
Then Lara.
Then Sophia.
“TRAITORS!” you laughed.
Water soaked through your oversized shirt quickly.
The fabric clung to your shoulders.
Then your arms.
Then your chest.
And suddenly—
The loose white shirt that once swallowed your body now outlined everything.
Your broad shoulders.
Defined arms.
The strong build of your upper body.
Your toned frame that years of hidden workouts had built.
The arena went quiet for a split second.
Then—
SCREAMS.
Absolute chaos.
Fans yelling.
Phones lifting everywhere.
“OH MY GOD—” Daniela shouted mid-spray.
“WAIT—WAIT—” Sophia stared at you. “SINCE WHEN?!”
Megan lowered the water gun slowly.
“Y/N… WHAT THE—”
Your muscles flexed naturally as you pushed wet hair away from your face.
"Ummm What?" You questioned innocently
The crowd screamed louder.
“THE INTERNET IS GOING TO LOSE ITS MIND,” Lara laughed hysterically.
Sophia grabbed your arm dramatically.
“YOU’VE BEEN HIDING THIS FROM US?!”
You shrugged sheepishly.
“Oops?”
Then slowly everyone turned toward Manon.
She had gone completely still.
Eyes locked on your now very visible build.
Her jaw tightened slightly.
You could almost see the gears in her head turning.
The mic was still near her mouth when she muttered:
“…oh.”
Daniela grinned mischievously.
“OHHHH she’s jealous.”
“I am NOT jealous,” Manon snapped quickly.
The crowd screamed at the drama.
You stepped closer to her teasingly.
“Really?”
Manon leaned close, voice low so only you could hear.
“You are sleeping in my room tonight,” she said calmly.
You blinked.
“That sounds threatening.”
“It is.”
She grabbed your wrist gently but firmly.
Then turned to the crowd with a bright idol smile.
“Anyway everyone!! Did you enjoy the surprise reveal?!”
The arena erupted.
Behind the stage lights, Manon leaned closer again and whispered:
“You are never hiding that again.”
You grinned.
“…we’ll see.”
Manon narrowed her eyes.
The fans were screaming.
Phones were recording.
And somewhere online, the clips of KATSEYE’s secret buff member were already starting to go viral.
OMG I am actually so obsessed with this song, and Alysa Liu"s stateside performance. I was listening to this song while writing this fic all day long.
Okay guys, I know this is not my usual type of fic, but I wanted to write something more intimate. Let me know if you want something less or something more. Be free to request smut, or fluff ideas in the comments and or message/ request to me individually.
I am so grateful for my first request fic, I would love to do more, so I would like to encourage everyone to request. And if you want to be anonymous just send me a quick message and I can work things out from there.
The cameras flashed nonstop as artists from different groups pour into the dining haul. Laughter, interviews, and excited fans filled the venue, making the MAMA feel more like a giant reunion than a competition.
As KATSEYE finished their photos, Y/N adjusted the sleeve of her fitted black blazer. Despite the formal outfit, it didn't do much to hide the build that became the trend in Katseye from the vlogs and the BTS's.
Sophia walked beside her, their shoulders brushing for a brief second before staff directed everyone toward the backstage waiting area.
"Ready?" she whispered.
Y/N smiled.
"Always."
Backstage was a maze of dressing rooms and artists greeting one another.
"Y/N!"
She turned to see Huh Yujin from le sserafim approaching her plastered with a bright smile.
"I've been meaning to say hi."
"It's good to finally meet you," Y/N replied politely.
"I've seen your workout videos," Yujin laughed. "They're kind of intimidating."
Y/N rubbed the back of her neck.
"I mostly post them to keep myself accountable."
"I don't know..." she teased, lightly poking her arm. "Those arms definitely got everyone's attention."
Before Y/N could answer, another familiar face joined them.
"She's right."
Yejin from ITZY grinned as she walked over.
"I thought the videos had filters until I saw you in person."
Yujin laughed.
"Nope. Definitely real."
Y/N chuckled awkwardly.
"You two are making this embarrassing."
"Can you blame us?" Yejin said. "Everyone online was talking about your no so secret body now."
The conversation stayed friendly, but from across the hallway as Sophia and the rest of Katseye was doing an interview...
Sophia saw everything.
She watched Yujin laughing.
She watched Yejin complimenting her.
She watched both of them standing just a little closer than she would've liked.
She knew they weren't doing anything wrong.
She trusted Y/N.
Still...
That formed a twisted knot in her stomach anyway.
A few minutes later, the members were called to another photoshoot.
Sophia smiled for every camera.
Posed for every photographer
But Y/N noticed.
The smile never quite reached her eyes.
When they finally had a quiet moment between schedules, Y/N caught up to her in a secluded and dark hallway
"Hey love."
"Hm?"
"You've been quiet."
"I'm fine."
She raised an eyebrow.
"Soph."
"..."
She sighed.
"It's stupid."
"If it's bothering you, it's not stupid."
She looked away.
"I just..."
Another sigh.
"When I saw Yujin and Yejin talking to you..."
"They're gorgeous."
"They kept complimenting you."
"And..."
She laughed nervously.
"I guess I got jealous."
Y/N blinked for a moment before smiling softly.
"You know what I was thinking during that whole conversation?"
"What?"
"I was wondering where my girlfriend disappeared to."
Sophia looked back at her.
"...Really?"
"Really."
She stepped closer.
"They're nice."
"They were being friendly."
"But that's all it was."
Sophia stayed quiet.
Y/N gently reached for her hand.
"I don't care who compliments me."
"I don't care who flirts with me."
"I only have eyes for one person."
Her cheeks turned pink.
"And she's standing right in front of me."
A tiny smile escaped before she could stop it.
"You always know what to say."
"No."
She laughed.
"I just tell the truth."
She finally looked into his eyes.
"You weren't interested?"
"Not even a little."
"What if they asked for your number?"
"I'd tell them my girlfriend would kill me."
Sophia laughed.
"I would not."
"You'd at least give me the silent treatment."
"...Maybe."
"There it is."
She nudged his shoulder.
"Stop teasing."
"I can't."
She intertwined their fingers.
"I like seeing you smile."
For a moment, neither of them spoke.
The noise of the venue faded into the background.
Sophia leaned her head lightly against her shoulder.
"I'm sorry."
"For what?"
"For getting jealous."
"You don't have to apologize."
"I'd probably feel the same if two idols kept complimenting you."
She smiled.
"Would you?"
"Oh, absolutely."
She laughed again.
"Good."
"Why's that?"
"Because then I'd know you actually care."
Y/N squeezed her hand.
"I've cared since the day we met."
"And that's not changing anytime soon."
A staff member poked their head into the hallway.
"KATSEYE! You're up in two minutes!"
The two quickly stepped apart before anyone could notice.
Sophia looked at her one last time.
"Love you."
Y/N smiled warmly.
"Love you too."
With the exchange of a quick kiss on the lips, they walked back toward the stage side by side.
No amount of compliments, attention, or admiration from anyone else could shake what they had.
Because at the end of the day, Y/N's heart always found its way back to Sophia.
Hey Guys, I'm finally back, and I'm not dead. I'm trying to upload more now. With a busy schedule for tennis tournament and work I have to been more careful. But for you guys I'm trying to be more consistent.
Anyways, hoped you guys liked this one. I'll be back soon don't worry.
pom poms and runners pt 2 || megan skiendiel and manon bannerman
in which you, loser skater collides worlds with shy cheerleader, megan skiendiel, who’s not all bad but your childhood best friend, manon bannerman doesn’t approve of megan especially when you get close with her.
shy cheerleader megan x loser reader x track and field manon
authors note: part 2😛 sorry for the long wait
previous part
—
the rest of the week was weird. like, really weird.
for starters, manon was being clingy in a way she’d never been before. she was always around, always right there, waiting at your locker between every class, sitting closer to you at lunch than usual, texting you constantly when you weren’t together. at first you thought maybe she was just being protective, looking out for you like she always had. but there was an edge to it now, something almost possessive that made you feel like you couldn’t breathe.
and she kept bringing up megan. not directly, but in these little comments that were clearly meant to remind you of what she’d said.
“ugh, cheerleaders are so fucking loud,” she’d mutter when they walked past in the hallway, even though they weren’t being any louder than anyone else.
“did you see what jess posted? jesus. they’re all like that, i swear.”
“i heard the cheer squad got in trouble for bullying some freshman. typical.”
each time, you’d just nod or make some noncommittal sound, but it was starting to grate on you. manon had never been like this before so fixated on hating a specific group of people. it felt excessive. it felt personal.
and the thing was, you kept running into megan.
not literally this time, thank god, but she was suddenly everywhere. in chemistry, she’d started sitting one row closer to your usual spot by the windows. you’d catch her looking at you, and when your eyes met she’d blush and quickly look away, but the next day she’d be there again, one seat closer.
you saw her in the hallway between third and fourth period, and she’d given you a small wave that you returned before manon appeared out of nowhere and steered you in the other direction with a hand on your elbow.
she was at the skate park on saturday.
that one surprised you. you and manon had gone like you did most weekends, and you were in the middle of attempting a kickflip off the small ramp when you spotted her. she was sitting on one of the benches at the edge of the park, still in her cheer practice clothes, shorts and a fitted tank top with the school logo. she had a book open in her lap but she wasn’t reading it. she was watching you.
“you’ve got to be kidding me,” manon muttered beside you, following your gaze.
“maybe she just lives around here,” you said, but even you didn’t really believe that. the skate park was on the opposite side of town from school, not exactly a casual hangout spot.
“she’s following you,” manon said flatly. “this is creepy.”
“it’s a public park—”
“i’m going to talk to her.” manon was already moving, her expression dark.
you grabbed her arm. “don’t. seriously, just leave it.”
“why are you defending her?” manon turned on you, and there was something sharp in her voice that made you take a step back. “you don’t even know her.”
“and you won’t tell me why you hate her so much,” you shot back, frustration finally bubbling over. “you just keep making these vague comments about how she’s a bad person, but you won’t actually explain what she did.”
manon’s jaw clenched. “i told you, it doesn’t matter—”
“clearly it does matter if you’re acting like this.” you gestured between her and where megan was sitting, pretending very hard to be interested in her book now. “you’ve been weird all week, manon. hovering over me, making comments about the cheerleaders constantly, getting pissed every time i even look in megan’s direction—”
“because i’m trying to protect you!” manon’s voice rose, loud enough that a few other skaters glanced over. she lowered it, but the intensity didn’t fade. “i know her, okay? i know what she’s like, and i don’t want you to get hurt.”
“hurt how? by what? she literally just ran into me on the sidewalk—”
“and now she’s showing up where you hang out, staring at you, trying to get close to you—” manon ran a hand through her hair, agitated. “god, this is exactly what she does. she finds someone and she latches on and then—”
“then what?”
manon went quiet. her chest was heaving like she’d been running, and when she looked at you her eyes were bright with something that might have been tears. “then she leaves,” she said finally, voice barely above a whisper. “when something better comes along, she just… leaves.”
and suddenly some pieces started clicking into place. the intensity of manon’s reaction. the personal nature of her hatred. the way she’d looked at megan that first day not just angry, but hurt.
“you were friends?” you said slowly. “you and megan. before.”
manon looked away, but that was answer enough.
“what happened?”
“it doesn’t matter—”
“stop saying that!” you were getting angry now too, fed up with the non-answers and the secrecy. “if you want me to just blindly hate someone, you need to give me an actual reason, manon. that’s not fair.”
“fair?” manon laughed, but it was bitter. “you want to talk about fair? fine. megan and i were best friends in middle school. like, really close. closer than—” she stopped herself. “we did everything together. and then in eighth grade, the popular girls decided they wanted her. jessica and her little crew. and megan just… went with them. completely ditched me to sit at their lunch table and go to their parties and be part of their group.”
you stayed quiet, letting her talk.
“i tried to talk to her about it,” manon continued, and yeah, those were definitely tears now, though she was blinking them back furiously. “tried to ask if we were still friends, if i’d done something wrong. and you know what she said? she said i was being clingy. that i needed to let her have other friends. like i was the problem for being upset that she abandoned me for people who—” she stopped, shook her head. “those girls made my life hell for two years. and megan just stood by and watched. never said anything, never stood up for me, just pretended like we’d never been friends at all.”
your chest felt tight. you’d known manon had a rough time in middle school—she’d mentioned it once or twice, usually when she was explaining why she hated the popular crowd so much. but you’d been in different classes, had your own shit going on with trying to figure out skating and dealing with your own awkward phase. you hadn’t realized megan was part of it.
“i’m sorry,” you said quietly. “i didn’t know, ma-“
manon wiped at her eyes angrily as she cut you off. “yeah, well.. she was shitty so forgive me if i don’t trust her sudden interest in my best friend.”
the possessiveness in those last two words wasn’t lost on you. my best friend.
like a claim.
a territory mark.
you glanced over at the bench. megan was gone. must have left while you and manon were arguing, probably figured out you were talking about her.
“i’m not trying to replace you,” you said, which felt important to say out loud. “you know that, right? you’re my best friend. that’s not going to change.”
manon’s expression softened slightly. “i know. i just—” she sighed. “i don’t want to lose you too.”
“you won’t,” you promised, and you meant it. manon had been there for you through everything. she was constant, reliable, your person. some girl you barely knew wasn’t going to change that.
but even as you said it, even as manon seemed to relax and you went back to skating, part of you couldn’t stop thinking about megan. about the way she’d looked so small and alone standing outside the school. about her nervous laughter and shy smiles.
about the fact that people could change in the years between middle school and now.
monday came with a chemistry test you’d completely forgotten about.
“fuck,” you muttered, staring down at the paper mr. peterson had just placed on your desk. molecular formulas and bonding diagrams and a bunch of shit you definitely should have studied for but hadn’t because you’d been too busy dealing with the weird tension between manon and megan.
you were screwed. completely, utterly screwed.
you made it through maybe three questions before your brain completely gave up. the rest of the period you just sat there, doodling in the margins and accepting your fate. manon was going to kill you she’d reminded you about this test like four times and you’d kept saying you’d study later.
the bell finally rang and you handed in your disaster of a test, already planning how you were going to break it to manon that you’d probably failed.
“um, excuse me?”
you turned to find megan standing there, books clutched to her chest like armor. she looked nervous, kept glancing toward the door like she was ready to bolt.
“hey,” you said, surprised. she hadn’t talked to you directly since that first morning. had kept her distance, probably because of manon’s death glares.
“i—” she started, then stopped. bit her lip. tried again. “i noticed you seemed kind of stuck on the test. i mean, not that i was watching you or anything creepy like that, i just— i, uhm… we sit kind of close and i happened to see—” she was turning red again, tripping over her words.
“it’s cool,” you said, trying to save her from the spiral. “yeah, i totally bombed that. forgot to study.”
she hesitated, then seemed to make a decision. “i could help you. if you want. with chemistry. i’m pretty good at it and mr. peterson sometimes lets people do test corrections for partial credit if you can prove you understand the material now…”
it was a nice offer. genuinely helpful. and the old you, the you from a week ago, would have just said yes without thinking about it.
but you could practically feel manon’s disapproval radiating from somewhere in the building.
“i don’t know,” you said slowly. “i mean, that’s nice of you to offer, but—”
“is it because of manon?” megan asked quietly, and when you didn’t answer, she nodded like she’d expected it. “i understand. she… she has every right to hate me.”
that surprised you. “what?”
“uh.. nevermind.” megan was staring at her shoes.
you didn’t know what to say or do to that.
she just blushed deeper. “i just think you’re really cool. and nice. and i’d like to be your friend, if that’s okay. but i understand if it’s not.”
there was something painfully honest about the way she said it. vulnerable. like she was handing you her heart and fully expecting you to crush it.
and god, you wanted to say yes. wanted to tell her that yeah, you could be friends, that everyone deserved a second chance.
but manon’s hurt expression flashed through your mind. the tears she’d blinked back at the skate park. the way her voice had broken when she said “then she leaves.”
“i need to think about it,” you said finally, which was the most honest answer you could give.
megan nodded, looking both disappointed and like she’d expected nothing different. “okay. that’s- yeah. okay.” she adjusted her books. “i’ll see you around.”
she was gone before you could say anything else, disappearing into the hallway crowd in a flash of ginger hair.
you stood there for a long moment, feeling like you’d just failed some kind of test that had nothing to do with chemistry.
yousharknotpass
ellievsbear
gummygunk
tangentwithtanner
stormborns
theartofmadeline
