#It's good to see you again!! I still have a few of your other asks in my inbox! ^^

[kissbabie]

your bodyguard has to punish you !

being sat in bodyguard!sae's lap while he looked at you blankly, yet with the slightest hint of annoyance and irritation in his eyes was not on your list for tonight. actually, your plan was to sneak out your window after your father denied you of going to a party, but sae had unfortunately caught you. you mentally cursed the man for being so smart, and knowing exactly what you were planning to do after you so innocently asked him to leave your room so you could change.

"your father already said no, and you do this?" sae said, raising one eyebrow at you. he was lightly caressing your waist with one hand, then slowly tracing over your thigh as you pouted, then using his other hand to give you a light smack on your ass. "you really don't get it, do you?"

"'m sorry, sae, won't happen again." you blinked at him, wiggling yourself in his lap as you whined like a spoiled brat. he exhaled hard through his nose and titled his head back, like he was deciding what he should do with you. he leans in, lips brushing your ear as he uses one hand to hold the back of your neck and pull you into him, whispering into your ear, "be a good girl and ride me, okay? and i won't tell your father what you tried to do."

at the mere mention of that, you were scrambling to take off your skirt, fumbling with the zipper of his pants. pushing your own panties aside, it was almost embarrassing to see how wet you had already gotten, your pussy leaking and your panties glistening, but you managed to push yourself down his cock. the stretch was incredible — your mouth parted as you let out a whine, feeling your walls clamp down on him. straddling him, you wrap your arms around his neck, giving a few light bounces on it.

but after a while, despite how hard you were trying, you were getting tired, your thighs became sore, and sae wasn't even helping. he looked almost bored, letting out a few groans here and there, but you desperately needed for him to just grab your waist and slam you up and down on his cock.

“go faster,” sae mutters, voice flat, almost bored. “i c-can’t,” you whimpered, hips stuttering. “sae, ‘m tired, my legs—“

a little slap landed on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make your breath hitch. his fingers spread warm against your skin afterward, palm rubbing the area there. “c’mon, i know you can do it.” he says, eyes narrowing as he stares at you.

so, with what little dignity you had left, you let out a whine and started moving yourself again. it was terrible, you were riding him so messily, your thighs shaking as you let out frustrated whimpers, trying to chase your release. but, sae, of course, still had a small punishment up his sleeve for you.

"don't cum." he warned, but his voice was a bit shaky as he closed his eyes, his hands finally resting on your waist as it sounded like he, himself, was close to cumming. you sobbed, pathetically trying to ask him for permission to cum, but all he gave you was a single look and you knew you should just save your breath. you collapsed onto his chest, mewling into his shoulder as he exhaled slowly, his hand sliding up your back to keep you steady. what you didn't expect, however, was him to thrust up into you — one that made you cum, right then and there.

the feeling was incredible, feeling your pleasure finally crash over you after what you had to endure. but, after coming down from your high, it was way too quiet, and you just realized what you had done. you squirmed in his lap, before sae sighed and pulled you off. he easily grabbed you and placed you carefully on your back onto your bed, crawling over you. he fondly caressed your cheek, swiping his thumb under your eye slowly.

"didn't i tell you not to cum, hm?" he says. he leaned down to you, his breath dangerously close to yours. "guess i'll have to teach you some manners then, you brat."

for this req

© 𝒌issbabie | don't copy, steal, or translate any of my work

[dawnfire12]

Bedroom Revenge

Sequel to Dressing Room Hookup

Pairing: Jinu (Kpop Demon Hunter) X You (female)

Summary: You are Rumi’s youngster sister and a part of Huntrix. The last time you saw Jinu, he had you bent over your dressing room table and made you forget your own name. You left you a total mess before you had to go on stage so now you truly want to kill him. But sometimes plans don’t go as accordingly as they should.

Warning: 18+ (mdni!), explicit smut content, p in v, fingering, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie

You sneak onto the balcony that’s connected to Jinu’s bedroom with a sword in your hand. You are going to end this tonight. His lights are all out signaling to you that he’s asleep. You open the door softly making sure to not make a sound. He doesn’t seem to react, just breathing in and out as one does when in a deep sleep. 

You lightly press down on the bed, having your legs straddle him with your sword against his neck.

“You should know you can’t sneak up on a 400 year old demon.” He comments without even opening his eyes.

You pressed your sword into his neck, “How are you even awake?”

“Puh-lease. I heard you land on the balcony. You’re not as smooth as you think.” He still has his eyes closed but raised his hand to shift his hands behind his head.

“You think you’re just so good. You’re not going to get away with this!” You seethe. 

“Oh is that what this is about?” He finally opens his eyes and has a big grin.

“What?” You ask.

He pouts at you, “Oh someone needs some more of my dick in them.” He brings one of his hands to your waist and starts moving it up and down.

“No, that’s not what this is about.” You protest and move up, trying to get away from his hand.

He groans,”Do that again.” 

You could feel the vibration of his groan going straight towards your pussy and you unknowingly grind into him again. His other hand knocks your sword away and both of his hands grasp your hips, pulling you to and from him. He’s using you as his own personal doll to get him off.

You moan,”This is not what I came for.”

He cocks on eyebrow, “Oh yeah? Well let’s see how wet your pussy is.”

He slips his fingers into your skort and feels how wet you are and moans.

“You’re not even wearing underwear, you dirty girl.”

“I forgot.” You shutter out as you try to rock yourself on his fingers.

“Mmhmm. Just admit that you came here for this.” He circles your clit.

“Hngh, no. Oh fuck.” He curls his fingers into you. He knows where your g spot is and targets that. Your legs start to shake a bit and you bite your lip.

“Fuckk! No,” You rip his fingers out and put one hand around his neck, choking him,”We are doing things on my terms today.” 

You moved down a little to pull his pants down to see his fully erect cock. You spit on it and stroke it up and down a few times. He groans, gripping his sheets and you push your skort off you with your other hand.You lower yourself onto him and whimper as you feel him stretch your walls. He feels so much bigger and deeper this way.

“Take off your shirt.” You demand as you sink onto his cock. 

He leans up and both of you moan from his movement as he whips his shirt off. He stays sitting up to pull yours off and lays back down, leaving you both fully naked. You put your hands on his chest and start moving up and down. You get wetter each time you pull yourself up.

All that can be heard are moans and slapping of skin. You gasp as your clit rubs a certain way. 

“You look so good like this. Taking me so well. Taking what’s yours.” He grips your waist. 

You whimper,”Don’t say that.”

He cocks his head,”What? How pretty you look on my cock, rocking yourself against me?”

You moan and move your hips faster. He groans and leans his head back. You lean down to lick his neck and bite him. He hisses and you grin. His nails and teeth start to elongate. Your legs start to get sore as you whimper.

“Oh does my girl need help?” He coos. 

You bit your lip and nod.

He grins, “Good girl.” He leans up, wrapping one arm around your waist and the other in your hair and brings his knees up. He slams you down on his dick repeatedly while moving his hips up against you. You wail and cry his name. He sucks on your tits, leaving you hickies for days.

“Oh Jinu!” You cry, the familiar pressure of your orgasm rapidly building.

“Be good and cum on my cock!” He orders you as he furiously rubs your clit. Your orgasm crashes over you so quickly you barely can react and can only cry his name. He carries you through it and pumps faster, cumming in you.

“Oh fuck!” He moans as he spills his seed, “Mmhhmm so good.” He pumps you up and down a few more times before laying down with his dick still in you. 

You try to catch your breath by breathing in and out slowly. You feel a little light headed.

“That’s my girl.” He licks his lips while looking at where you two are still joined.

“Not your girl.” You whisper. 

He narrows his eyes,”Guess I didn’t fuck you hard enough.”

He flips you over onto your back before you can react with your legs wide open and drills himself into you. You thought you were loud before, well now you’re even louder. Your nails grip his arms as he pushes his dick in and out of you.

He grunts,”I love your moans. But you have to keep quiet or else the rest of the boys will hear.”

You unconsciously grip his dick a little tighter when he says that. Being a little turned on at being quiet.

“Oh you like that?” He asks.

You reply with a moan.

“Well, maybe I should invite them over. To see how well your pussy takes cock. I bet you would like that.” He thrusts harder.

You cry out,”MMhmm! No Jinu! Only you!"

He grins,”Only me? That’s right! Only me! My good girl!”

Your eyes roll to the back of your head as your orgasm crashes over you. Your legs start shaking from the force of the orgasm and how hard Jinu is still going.

He hisses,”Fuck you’re so tight. Can’t wait to cum in this pussy. Cumming in you twice, no way you won’t be carrying my seed. Can’t wait to see you full of my cum.”

He bites your neck as he empties his seed into you and you wail, still sensitive from cuming. He moves slower before pulling out. You breathe heavily, trying to keep your eyes open. You feel him leave the bed and come back with a wipe cleaning you a little bit, making sure to keep some of his cum in you by pushing it back in you. 

He slips into bed next to you, wrapping his arms around your waist and whispers in your ear,”Sleep. Tomorrow you’re not leaving this bed till you’ve cummed as many times as I tell you.”

You fall asleep towards the end of his sentence, too exhausted from the activity to listen and too tired to comprehend that tomorrow will not be a rest day.

[miyasmagnolias]

𝐡𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐬 𝐬𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐜𝐚𝐬𝐞 𓂇⋆⭒˚｡⋆

miya atsumu x f!reader

you invite atsumu and the boys to your spring dance showcase to raise money for a good cause — and maybe get even after the viral video incident. atsumu, on the other hand? he just wants to ask you out and, if he's lucky, kiss you properly this time around.

part eleven of the in close quarters series, a friends-to-lovers college AU featuring you, atsumu, and the ten months you spend living together senior year.

a/n: a tiny bit of lore, but i used to dance throughout college (and still do to this day), so this one was super fun to write. enjoy! ( ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)

"So...what kind of dance does she do again?"

"Uh..." Atsumu blinked down at the bouquet of flowers like they might contain the answer to Suna's question. "Hip-hop, I think?"

Osamu locked his car and shot his twin brother a judgmental glare. "Haven't ya lived with her for, like, eight months now? Shouldn't ya know what type of dance she does?"

"How am I supposed to know?! It's not like she performs for me in the livin' room or anythin'!"

Osamu's face twisted in disgust. "Oh, you'd like that, wouldn't ya."

Atsumu's face turned beet red. "The fuck is that supposed to mean — ?!"

"To be fair," Aran interjected, ever the pacifist. "Modern dance can blend together a lot of styles — jazz, ballet, hip-hop. It's really not as cut and dry as people think it is."

"See?" Atsumu said, grateful to his team captain for coming to his defense. "It's not as cut and dry as ya think it is!"

Aran gave him a flat stare in return. "Still, I find it baffling that you didn't think to ask."

The four former Inarizaki boys began the long trek from their parallel parking spot to The Bloom Room — a seventies-inspired cocktail lounge nestled in-between campus and downtown. Your university dance troupe had partnered with the small business to host your annual spring showcase, the event doubling as a community-wide fundraiser for a handful of local nonprofits.

Invite the volleyball boys, too! you'd texted Atsumu a few weeks back, along with the link to buy tickets. We need as many people there as possible. The more drinks you buy, the more goes to charity!

Atsumu didn't exactly know who you meant by the 'volleyball boys' — Osamu and Suna didn't really count anymore, and Sakusa wouldn't be caught dead in a place like The Bloom Room. Aran, on the other hand, was a welcome surprise, the captain of the men's volleyball team happily agreeing to go when Atsumu brought it up to him after practice the other day.

"I'll do anything for a good cause," he'd said, though the fluorescent lights of the locker room did nothing to hide his amused expression. "Did you end up wooing her with your extensive knowledge of Pride and Prejudice?"

"I was not tryin' to 'woo' her — I was tryin' to help her with an essay!" Atsumu exclaimed, slamming his locker door shut. "There's a big difference."

"You stopped reading every other sentence just so you could ask me what it meant," Aran said dryly, recalling the two-hour flight back from their first away game. Off the court, he'd never seen Atsumu more concentrated. “If anything, you needed help.”

Atsumu shot his team captain an offended glare. "At least I finished the damn thing. It got good — ya know, once I got used to all the ol' timey English."

Aran folded his arms across his chest and exhaled slowly. "Look, it's clear you've got feelings for this girl. So in addition to reading her favorite books and kissing her on the cheek after games, why don't you just ask her out?"

The setter shifted uncomfortably on his feet. It wasn't as if the thought hadn't crossed his mind before — just that every time it did, it was accompanied by the worst possible outcomes he could think of. Him, finally working up the courage to ask you out. You, laughing in his face. Him, having to sleep in the room next to yours every day while he died of embarrassment. Just thinking about it made Atsumu want to yak.

It was much easier to flirt with you than to actually admit that he liked you, he'd realized. In fact, Atsumu kind of hoped you'd be the first to acknowledge it. He'd dropped more than enough hints for you to catch on.

But as your spring semester continued without so much as a peep, Atsumu realized he didn't have much time left. He needed to fess up to you before you graduated and went on to become a publishing mogul or a Pulitzer Prize winner — or whatever the hell English honors students went on to do after college.

The plan was simple: get you alone after the show, hand you the bouquet he'd spent nearly an hour picking out. Pop the question while somehow keeping his ego intact. Easy peasy.

At least, he thought it was.

"Oh, are you here for Y/N?" a girl with large hoop earrings and a handkerchief for a top said when Atsumu approached the check-in table. "You're her roommate, right? She's told us so much about you!"

"She didn't tell us you'd be bringing a whole team with you," another drawled, twirling a long braid around her perfectly manicured fingers as she sized up his friends. "Sheesh."

Despite himself, a stupid grin broke out on Atsumu's face. "She talks about me?"

The two girls exchanged humored looks from across the table.

"Let's just say she's gonna really love the flowers," the one with the braids replied with a smack of her gum.

"Wish my boyfriend bought me flowers," the one with the earrings chuckled, stamping the back of Atsumu's hand. "Enjoy the show!"

The Bloom Room was bathed in sultry purple lights as Atsumu and his group navigated the crowd of friends and family that had shown up for that evening's showcase. The high-top tables and stools had been cleared out to make room for a dance floor, with rows of folding chairs now lining the perimeter of the space.

"It's awfully intimate, ain't it?" Osamu observed as he sat next to Atsumu in the row closest to the dance floor.

"I'ma grab a drink," Suna quipped, already making a beeline for the bar. Meanwhile, their phones pinged in unison. It was from you.

Are you here yet?? you'd asked in the group chat you had created with all four of them. Did you get good seats?

Atsumu's fingers were already flying across the keyboard.

Yep, front row! Break at leg! Then, before he could stop himself, he added a pink heart emoji and hit send.

"Whoa," Aran said, blinking back at the text message not a moment later. "A heart? Things must be getting pretty serious."

"Shaddup," Atsumu tsked, folding his arms across his chest. At Osamu and Aran's bemused stares, he asked, "What? It ain't the red one! The red one is the serious one!"

"Dunno, man," Aran teased as Osamu stifled his laugh. "A heart's a heart."

Atsumu's confident expression faltered as he said, "W-Well, do ya think it's too much? Should I edit it?

"I think it's a little late for that," Osamu drawled just as their phones pinged again. They all looked down at their screens.

Great! you'd replied, hearting Atsumu's message. Can someone take a video of me pwease?

On it, Suna texted back. He returned a few minutes later with a tequila soda in-hand.

"Dude," he murmured as he sat back down. "What was up with that frilly pink heart? Keep that shit to yourselves."

Atsumu rolled his eyes.

"Good evening, everyone! Take your seats, take your seats," the girl with the hoop earrings said into the microphone as the remainder of the crowd settled in with their drinks. "My name's Mina, and I'd like to personally welcome you to the Silk Club's third annual spring showcase!"

A wave of applause ricocheted through the venue.

"We've got an incredible lineup of talent here tonight representing several on-campus dance orgs, so sit back, relax, and enjoy the show," she said. "As a reminder, all ticket and drink proceeds go towards our city's women's shelter and the center for LGBTQIA+ youth, so I encourage you to get as drunk as humanly possible! It's for a great cause!"

Laughter and applause rippled across the crowd. Beside Atsumu, Suna tipped his cup back until all that was left was ice.

"Now without further ado, I have the pleasure of introducing to you our opening act," Mina continued. "The Silk Club is a group of young women whose mission is to feel empowered and body confident in their dance. This is their third year hosting their annual spring showcase in support of the local nonprofit community, and they are incredibly excited to perform for you all tonight. I myself have been a part of this team for two years now, and I can confidently say there's no other group I'd rather shake ass with to raise money. So without further ado, give it up for Silk!"

The crowd whooped and hollered as several silhouetted figures emerged from the back room and assumed formation on the dance floor. Meanwhile, Atsumu's heart kicked up a notch as he scanned the shadows to find you. Beside him, Osamu frowned.

"Shake ass?" Osamu repeated under his breath. "Don't tell me — "

He was promptly cut off as the opening chords to Mariah Carey's "Obsessed" blared through the speakers, the spotlight flickering on to reveal you — in the tiniest black tube top and skirt — staring back at the audience with a sultry pout on your face.

Aran's eyes widened. Suna nearly choked on his ice. Osamu ran a hand over his face and glanced toward his brother, who — for all intents and purposes — looked like he was about to have a stroke.

Because you were hot. Nay — you were hot as fuck.

And everyone in that room knew it, too.

"I thought she did hip-hop!" Aran yelled over the music as you danced across the floor in your stiletto heels, your confidence radiating with every body roll, every hair flip.

"Dunno what kind of hip-hop you're watching, but this certainly isn't it," Suna shot back dryly, having already hit the record button on his phone.

Except Atsumu wasn't even listening. All that occupied his brain was you. Batting your eyelashes at the audience. Rocking the headscarf you'd styled into your long hair. Touching yourself in places that made Atsumu feel faint. You looked like the seventh member of Katseye, only prettier. How hadn't he known this about you?

"Why you so obsessed with me? Boy, I wanna know..."

The crowd went completely ballistic as all the girls on your team planted their hands on the sticky floor and shook ass in perfect unison. Only then did Atsumu notice the phone in Suna's hands.

"Would ya not film my roommate's ass like that?" he stammered, doing a double-take.

Suna merely shrugged and said, "What? She asked me to."

Then, before Atsumu could argue further, you were sauntering up to him. Soft smile. Pouty lips. Eyes that could disarm him in an instant. You ran a delicate finger along the curve of his jaw, tilted his chin up to look at you. And winked.

For fuck's sake.

"I think you can see the exact moment his soul leaves his body," Suna deadpanned, scrubbing through the video after you and your teammates had struck the final pose to the sounds of ear-splitting applause.

Osamu elbowed his brother in the ribs and said, "Ya alright in there, Tsumu?"

Atsumu just stared at the dance floor as you and your teammates took your bows. Brain empty. Face steadily draining of color. His grip tightened around the bouquet in his lap as he tried to careen himself back to earth.

Asking you out was going to be way harder than he thought.

Atsumu's heart rate more-or-less returned to normal after that, the rest of the show featuring a variety of modern dance crews, cultural clubs, and K-Pop cover groups. Nothing as outrageous as the opener, but perhaps that was for the best. Atsumu didn't need his nervous system compromised for a second time that night — especially with the question he was about to ask you after the show.

The Silk Club closed the showcase with a much tamer, less anxiety-inducing routine to "Rocket" by Doechii, the choreography maintaining your team's signature charm while showcasing your versatility of style. Atsumu cheered for you as you danced your heart out in the center of the room, your energy infectious as the music coursed through your every muscle. From your cheeky smile down to the soles of your sneakers, it was clear you loved being up there. The entire time, Atsumu couldn't stop grinning.

He was the first to give you a standing ovation by the end.

"Seems like Atsumu isn't the only one who can work a crowd," Aran drawled in amusement, standing up so he could clap for you properly. Beside him, Suna snapped about a million pictures.

Osamu merely hummed in agreement and said, "Pretty sure this is the first time he's been more enamored by someone other than himself."

As usual, Atsumu didn't hear a damn thing — just clapped his brother on the shoulder and said, "I'll be right back."

Several families and friend groups had since flooded the dance floor to reunite with their performers, Atsumu shouldering his way through with the bouquet clutched to his chest. Your friend Haru had found you first and was currently gushing to you about your performance, Atsumu maintaining his distance for several nerve-wracking seconds before your eyes eventually latched onto his. Your face broke out into the sunniest smile he'd ever seen, and by God. You were beautiful.

You said goodbye to Haru and made your way towards him. His arms found purchase around your waist as he lifted you several inches off the ground and squeezed you as hard as you could.

"Hi," he murmured into your hair. It smelled of your sweat and shampoo.

"Hi," you whispered back, your voice warm and breathless. "What did you think of the show?"

"I..." Atsumu trailed off, the mental image of you throwing it back flashing across his mind. "I didn't know ya could move like that, that's for sure."

A chuckle rumbled out of you as he set you down. You adjusted the oversized jersey you had changed into for the finale and said, "Yeah. I'm a little embarrassed that you and your friends got a full view of my ass, but it's whatever."

"Well, for what it's worth, it looked good." Then, after realizing what the fuck he'd just said, "You. Y-You looked good, I meant. Shit."

You were full-on laughing at this point. "That's high praise, coming from the king of low sets himself."

The tips of his ears turned red as he finally remembered the bouquet in his hands.

"These are for ya," he said, watching your eyes soften as he gave them to you. You lifted your nose to the assortment of wildflowers like you did with all of your books. "Ya looked incredible up there, Y/N. Seriously."

"...thank you, Tsumu." A shy smile worked its way onto your features before you admitted, "No one's ever gotten me flowers before."

"Ya bein' serious right now?" he asked, equal parts surprised and pleased with himself. You nodded. "Well, that's only cause ya haven't invited the right people before."

You rolled your eyes. "The right people being you?"

"Damn straight," he said, already reaching for you a second time. "Come 'ere."

He wrapped his arms around you in the middle of the crowded dance floor, his cheek resting against the crowd of your head. Relaxing into his embrace, you listened to his heartbeat through this shirt. Steady. Grounding. A little fast. But then again, so was yours.

You craned your neck to look him in the eye. He gazed down at you like you were the only other person in that entire room.

Pulse picking up speed, Atsumu slowly leaned in until he was a mere breath away from grazing your lips against his.

But before he could kiss you, someone was already calling your name.

"Y/N!" Mina hollered, the both of you jumping backwards like two guilt-ridden teenagers. She scanned the dense crowd from the front of the room like a mother who'd just lost her child at the zoo. "Y/N, where the hell are ya?! We're taking a group picture!"

Clearing his throat, Atsumu adjusted the collar of his jacket and tried to channel whatever nonchalance was left in his body. Beside him, you haphazardly tried to fix your hair. The two of you locked eyes once more and, gradually, started to laugh.

"Go," Atsumu said, jerking his chin towards your teammates. "Don't keep 'em waiting."

Mashing your lips together, you looked like you wanted to argue. But your teammates were already calling your name.

"Come out to eat with us afterwards?" you offered, a hopeful expression on your face. "I think a handful of us are going to that new Korean spot downtown. You can bring the boys, too."

Chuckling, Atsumu nodded. "Sure. We'll be there."

"...okay," you eventually managed. It did little to mask the dazed, if not mildly disappointed expression on your face. "I'll see you soon."

And with that, you disappeared into the crowd.

"Ya boys in the mood for Korean food?" Atsumu asked his friends when he found them lingering outside the restrooms.

"Why, what happened?" Osamu asked, shooting his brother a grin. "Yer plan fall through?"

"Yep," Atsumu quipped, throwing an arm around Osamu's shoulders. "I'm 'bout to drown my sorrows in an army stew."

"At least you gave her the bouquet," Aran offered, drying his damp hands on his jeans. "You only spent half the afternoon trying to pick it out."

"Seriously," Suna mumbled, eyes never leaving his phone. "You owe us dinner for the amount of moral support we're showing you right now."

The three of them debated how many dishes to order the entire car ride there. Meanwhile, Atsumu stared out the window, wondering when the hell he'd be able to get you alone.

"I never thought I'd see the day someone actually outdrank Mina," you giggled, fumbling with your keys to the apartment. "How much soju did Suna have?"

"I dunno, but he was scarily composed after all those domino shots," Atsumu murmured as you both entered through the front door and turned on all the lights. "Passed out like a light in the backseat, though."

Even though he'd barely managed to talk to you during dinner, it was surprisingly fun to see you relax for once. You were excited to introduce Atsumu and his friends to the people you had danced with for the past several months, grateful to see everyone get along so well in between spoonfuls of bubbling hot pot.

"It's nice to finally meet the best roommate she's ever had," Mina had teased, already four shots in. She flung a sweaty arm around your shoulders and said, "Her words, not mine!"

At that, Atsumu raised an eyebrow and grinned. "The best, huh?"

Maybe it was the alcohol, but he swore your face turned two shades redder at that.

Now, Atsumu watched from across the kitchenette as you meticulously trimmed the flowers he'd gotten for you, your fingers nimble as you arranged each one into a vase. The gentle hum of the air conditioner filled the silence between you, along with the rhythmic snip of your scissors.

Without looking up, you said, "You're staring."

"Am I?" Atsumu drawled, a smile toying on his lips. "Was just admirin’ yer makeup. Is that what they call a full beat?"

You nearly choked on your laughter. "Where did you learn that from? TikTok?"

He lifted a noncommittal shoulder. "I have my sources."

Smiling, you said, "Well, would you be so kind as to grab my makeup remover from the bathroom? I've been dying to get this off."

Five minutes later, Atsumu poured himself a glass of water as you tried removing your eye makeup with a soaked cotton round, a dark streak of eyeliner now smudged halfway across your face.

"Did I get it?" you asked, blinking at Atsumu from where you sat atop the kitchen counter. Laughing, he put down his glass and began wiping it himself.

"I like when you look like this," he confessed, gently dragging the cotton round across your skin.

Frowning, you said, "Like a rabid raccoon?"

"No, ya twerp. Ya know what I mean."

You didn't say anything for a long while as he continued removing your makeup. You felt your face warm beneath his touch as he did so.

"Thank you for coming to the showcase tonight."

"Of course. I wouldn't have missed it for the world." Then, after a brief pause, "Ya know, as the best roommate you've ever had."

You groaned. "I'm never gonna live that down, am I?"

"Not a chance," Atsumu drawled. He cupped your cheeks with both of his hands and inspected your face from different angles beneath the warm kitchen lights. "There. Squeaky clean."

Neither of you moved as you realized just how close you'd gotten to each other. You, your knees grazing against his torso. Him, the warmth of his palms sending a pulse of electricity down your spine.

"Atsumu..." you breathed, your voice merely a croak.

"...yeah?" he managed, brown eyes searching yours for something — anything — to indicate that you wanted him closer.

"...is there a reason you're always so nice to me?"

Lips parting, he said, "I think ya know why."

You closed the gap and kissed him not a moment later.

Now, Atsumu had imagined what it would be like to kiss you — had even dreamt about it, embarrassingly enough. But nothing, nothing compared to the way your lips worked against his now, each movement slow. Deliberate. Almost like you were asking a question.

You like me? you seemed to ask, fingers curling into his t-shirt, pulling him closer. Atsumu merely cupped the back of your head and deepened the kiss, the feeling of his tongue against yours extinguishing all doubt from your mind.

Yes, he thought, melting into you completely. Yes. I always have.

He braced his hands on either side of the kitchen counter, boxing you in. Your hands slid into his hair. A low moan escaped the back of his throat when you parted your legs for him and wrapped them around his waist. Fuck. He couldn't believe this was happening right now.

But before he let himself fall any further, he had one thing left to ask.

"Wait — wait," he stammered, pulling away from you suddenly. Lips swollen. Hair disheveled. Heart hammering in his chest.

At your confused expression, he asked, "Will ya go to dinner with me?"

Your chest rose and fell as a bemused expression crossed your features. "Are you asking me out right now?"

Atsumu gulped back and said, "I just...I wanna be sure I do this right."

Heart twinging at his words, your hands gently traveled down from his hair to cup both of his cheeks.

"You know, I thought you'd never ask," you drawled, eyes gleaming in adoration as you beheld him. Your roommate. Your friend. Your best friend, if you were being totally honest. "I'd love to."

The stupid grin that broke out on his face had you pulling him in for another kiss.

a/n: thank you for the love on these past couple of chapters, y'all! i'm slowly but surely responding to messages and comments — but in the meantime, please know that i appreciate all of you for reading this sappy lil' fic of mine. it means the world to me.

(next chapter will cover atsumu and y/n's first date mwahaha. stay tuned.)

@miyasmagnolias, 2025

[sucker4vy]

BUSY WOMAN, UNLESS YOU CALL TONIGHT .ᐟ

PAIRING: pedro pascal x actress!reader

SYNOPSIS: Pedro and the reader have been caught together multiple times, and now, all eyes are on them more than ever after she’s spotted leaving his apartment. Though she hasn’t said or made the relationship official, she finally breaks her silence at the Gladiator II premiere when an interviewer asks about the recent sighting.

WARNINGS: fem!reader, age gap (reader is in her mid-late twenties), confusing!pedro, situationship, not technically a smau but does include comments and a few posts, the media is obsessed with reader and pedro, eventual smut, no use of yn (except for posts)

WC: 3.2k

A/N: not me taking a whole other day to finish it 😶 honestly this could’ve been so much longer than it was but next time just watch i’ll make it longer

series masterlist | next chapter

Pedro rests his hand on the small of your back as he guides you to the door. He twists the lock and swings it open for you like the gentleman he always is.

As you’re about to step outside, you feel his hand slowly slip away, but it pauses when you do. Turning back to him, you ask, “I’ll see you at the premiere?” Accompanied by an awkward smile.

It’s a question you probably shouldn’t have asked, and judging by his expression, it’s one he’s caught off guard by. “You’re going?” He asks.

“I have nothing else to do that day.” You shy away from him. It was a lie but it’s one that would convince him the most.

Yet for some reason, it still didn't seem to work because disbelief flashed across, quickly replaced by skepticism. “You? Not busy?” You nod curiously at his reaction. “I don’t believe it.”

“Well, believe it,” You laugh softly to yourself and you see his lips twitch, but he’s back to his serious—no, trying to be serious self.

But he can’t help it when the room is filled with silence for another second and then he cracks. He bursts into a hearty laughter and his hand glides up to your nape, guiding your head toward his for a quick peck on the lips.

“Now, I do.” His gaze lingers on your lips, debating whether or not he should steal another kiss—just one last one. You push away before he can lean in again.

Before you turn around he catches a glimpse of a little cheesy grin on your face. “Goodnight, Pedro.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart,” he replies. You look back at him once more as you walk away ever so slowly and you catch him eyeing your body. He notices your figure shift and is quick to look around, suddenly fascinated by his apartment complex. A hand over his mouth and body leaning against the door frame, caught in the act.

You can’t help but giggle at his little sneaky act and you’re pretty sure it’s just as funny to him too because you hear a muffled laugh from behind you. You’ll definitely tease him later about checking you out.

When you step out of the building, you feel the cool air kiss your skin, and you can’t help but wish you had covered up a little more. A skirt was not the best choice for tonight, something you realized a little too late.

In the corner of your eye, you see a white flash. Your eyes widen in surprise as you turn to confront the source, only to find yourself staring directly at a phone.

You move to push the phone out of your face so that you're able to get a look at the actual source, but before you can fully get a good look at their appearance, they're unning for dear life.

In the moment, it’s funny and you scoff at their idiocy, and in that same moment, it hits you. It his you like a ton of bricks.

It feels like everything has slowed down as your mind movesq quick, a thousand thoughts per second, a million of all the possible outcomes run through your head.

Where you are, where you’re standing outside of more specifically Pedro Pascal’s apartment. That photo incriminates you and it’ll prove something that you’ve been trying to keep hidden from the media and yourself.

Behind you, you hear doors open and close, heavy footsteps on pavement, and then a hand on your shoulder. Your head spins around so fast you felt as though you were going to get whiplash.

“Woah, did I scare you?” There’s a teasting lilt in his voice but when he sees your expression, his smile dims. “Is something wrong?”

You exhale deeply to calm your nerves. “I think we’ve been caught.”

—

Different brushes glide over your face, blenders dabbing under your eye, and fingertips gliding over your nose to blend in the highlighter as much as it needed to look perfect.

Your makeup artist, Estelle, who had been all cheery and so talkative seconds ago, is now quiet, focused on her canvas, ensuring everything is flawless. She only speaks when she needs you to tilt your chin up a little or to look that way or this way.

When she’s finished she spins your chair around so that you face her, grabbing you chin gently for you to look at her. Her hand lifts from your chin and ghosts over your nose, drawing back with an unsureness, eyes squinting.

Her face quickly brightens with a loving smile. “You’re all finished!” She spins my chair back around, now facing the vanity. I meet my reflection and I admire Estelle’s work, which she killed like always. Wrapping her arms around my neck, she asks, “You like?”

“I love.” You look up at her with a smile, one that’s genuine but fragile as well.

“You know, this whole time I’ve been doing your glam you’ve been kind of tense, what’s up?” She smirks as if she knows something you don't. “It’s Pedro, huh?”

“No, no, no,” you’re quick to deny. “It’s not Pedro.” Estelle gives you a ‘are you kidding me’ kind of look because the both you know damn well that Pedro Pascal is the reason.

Estelle sighs, walking over to where your dress is hanging. “I know about that whole ordeal, honey. You can’t fool me.” She ushers you to stand up with hand gestures and pushes the dress into your hands. You don’t move from where you stand, only staring down at your dress.

It’s beautiful, bold. Designer? Alexander McQueen. It’s silk and corseted. Though it doesn't really go with the theme of the movie, it’s still a fantastic choice.

It commands attention without screaming for it. It’ll make her stand out on her own terms and possibly, hopefully, draw away attention from all the rumors going around. Maybe everyone will be too focused on her dress and forget about all the times the paparazzi have caught you with Pedro.

But let’s be realistic, you’ll be at the Gladiator II premiere, Pedro’s movie. They’ll be focused less on your dress and more on your appearance, but lucky for you, you have an excuse for that. You’ll say you’re there to meet with the director, that you’re thinking about working with him. You just hope they’ll believe it.

Walking out of the bathroom, you’re met face to face with your assistant, Daphne, whom you call Daph for short. She gives you a once-over and nods her head, looking around and saying, “I don’t know if Pedro’s going to be able to resist you this time around.”

You roll your eyes and mutter a small, “Thanks.” She gives you a thumbs-up and a coy smile.

“Shoes on?” She asks. You nod. “Hair?” Your hairstylist rushes over to you to fix a single strand, tucks it behind your ear, and then steps away. “Alrighty, I think we’re good to go.”

You turn to your glam team, thanking them for all their hard work and then you’re off to the premiere, but not before Estelle shouts, “Say hello to Pedro for me,” which gives everyone in the room a laugh.

You let out a giggle. “Bye, everyone.” And they all give a bye in return, some shouting, “Have fun!”

—

In the car, Daphne is helping you prepare for interviews. You’re sitting one seat over from her, not really paying attention since she has probably been over this a million times within two days.

When she first found out you were going to attend the premiere, she was baffled. “After all the rumors going around? Are you kidding me?” She had said.

You had told her it would be good for you, that you had come up with a reason that makes you look like you are strictly there for business and definitely not because you want to be one of the first ones to see Pedro Pascal in a gladiator costume, possibly all sweaty, and looking criminalally good. You could not pass up this opportunity.

It’s also a chance to clear up any rumors, or at least try to. You’re just really just trying to help your publicist who’s already way too stressed, but you just keep making things worse.

Sunday morning, you had woken up to a phone being pushed into your face, an article with the headline in big bold letters that read “FAMOUS ACTRESS SPOTTED OUTSIDE PEDRO PASCAL'S HOME.”

And it wasn’t your publicist behind that phone, it had been your assistant who had been told by your publicist.

Oh, was Daphne angry? No. She was fuming. “Call him. Now,” she said with a stern tone. And you were going to dial the number to talk things out with Pedro but you really just needed time to let everything sink in, you had just woken up for crying out loud.

You had told Daphne you’d call him later—later meaning that you’d wait for him to call you. He probably hadn’t even seen it yet, or so you told yourself.

So you waited.

And you waited

And, to your disappointment, you waited.

You would check your phone constantly. Every time you found your self drifting off during your meeting you shook yourself awake and checked your phone. Whenever Daphne mentioned something about the rumors you were quick to check your phone.

It got to a point where she literally had to rip your phone away from you just so you can get through a line from a script you were supposed to be rehearsing.

Then, just as you’re pushing your dinner around the plate, you phone buzzes. One buzz. Then another. You freeze

Please don't be a stupid notification. Please—Pedro’s name lights up your screen and you don’t even hesitate to press accept, taking a shaky breath, and brace yourself for what he’s about to tell you.

In the car, Daphne is helping you prepare for interviews. You’re sitting one seat over from her, not really paying attention since she has probably been over this a million times within two days.

She goes through a list of every possible question in every possible form, and you know she's stressed out by the way she just keeps going.

When she first found out you were going to attend the premiere, she was baffled. “After all the rumors going around? Are you kidding me?” She had said.

You had told her it would be good for you, that you had come up with a reason that makes you look like you are strictly there for business and definitely not because you want to be one of the first ones to see Pedro Pascal in a gladiator costume, possibly all sweaty, and looking criminalally good. You could not pass up this opportunity.

It’s also a chance to clear up any rumors, or at least try to. You’re just really just trying to help your publicist who’s already way too stressed, but you just keep making things worse.

You should’ve listened to Daphne when she told you not to go to Pedro’s, that you may get caught and it’ll be a big problem if you did. You wished you hadn’t ignored her warnings and simply just brushed her off saying that it would be fine because look at how wrong you were.

Now, all you can do is hope that an interviewer won’t ask about what’s going on between you and Pedro.

At least Pedro is worry-free, he just thinks that you were kidding about attending the premiere but little does he know you’re about to draw lots of attention right now.

—

Your heel hits the red carpet. No one seems to notice you quite yet, which makes you even more anxious for when they do.

Flashes go off a few yards down the carpet where one of the cast members is posing, not Pedro nor Joseph—but Paul. For now all eyes are on him and for you, there’s a fleeting moment of quiet, not literal silence, but the kind of breathless stillness that lives before impact.

You take a careful step forward and as you grow into the view of one of the photographers. He looks almost unsure at first, and he mumbles, “Is that who I think it is?” It’s loud enough for the person next to him to hear and repeat the same name, her head following his. Then one by one all their eyes fly to you as travel along the carpet.

You straighten up once flashes hit your face, smiling nice and big for the camera. You lift your chin up a little more, your arms are at your sides, one resting at you hip.

You move more down along the carpet, and now you’re standing just a few feet away from Paul. In the corner of your eye, you see that Paul notices you, and he shuffles closer over to you.

You look at him and he’s already smiling. “Picture?” He offers.

“Of course.” You lean more into him, wrapping your arm around him and he follows your movement, his hand placed in the middle of your back.

They shout for you to get a little closer together so you do. You lean your head towards his just a tad for one last photo and then he pats your back. “Thanks.” You give him a nod and follow him off the carpet.

Anyone you saw with a microphone you tried to dodge and stay out of their sight. Weaving your way through the crowds, but you couldn’t ignore everyone.

Some of the cast members came up to you and said hi. One of them was Fred, whom you worked with once. You were surprised that he even remembered, considering it had been a while since you had seen each other. Connie had also come to you to say hello, this was actually your first time meeting her. You’ve only heard of her, never have actually seen her in person before, she said the same thing about you.

Connie was so sweet and you guys chatted for a while, but the conversation was cut short when an interviewer snuck up on you. You felt a tap on your shoulder and Connie excused herself so you could be interviewed without interruption, part of you wanted to beg her not to leave you, but you couldn’t.

Where Connie was standing is where the interviewer was standing now. She introduced herself as Steph from Entertainment Tonight, and you're all rainbows and sunshine on the outside, but on the inside you're about to freak out because you know that they’re about to go in deep with these questions.

She looked into the camera, and so did you. “You, my dear, look breathtaking tonight. I have to say this dress is a moment.”

“Thank you, Steph, it means a lot. I really needed something that was bold, especially for tonight, you know?” She agrees, and then her face shifts into one of curiosity.

“We didn’t know we’d be seeing you here tonight, and we were wondering what brought you out?” She holds up the microphone to your lips.

“I have so much respect for everyone on the team and I wanted to see all the hard work they put into this movie come to life.” You continue, “The story scale, the artistry, the history. It all reminds you why you love what you do and it really inspires you.”

“Of course, of course! All of the cast members are so talented and it's such a big night for them. I love how supportive you are!” Her eyes turned away from your for a split second to give the camera a slick grin, then they’re back on you. Her voice dips, now ever so gentle, “A lot of people think your presence tonight has something to do with Pedro Pascal. You were just seen leaving his place late Saturday night. Is you being here simply a coincidence?”

You blink, smile faltering for just a second before you regather yourself. There’s a pause, then a sigh, and you know your silence speaks louder than what you’re about to say right now. “I didn’t come tonight to answer rumors. But I know that if I’m quiet it just makes the noise louder.”

Hesitating and taking a breath, you continue, “I knew that being here tonight would raise some eyebrows, especially after Saturday. I think it’s just reading a little too much into things. Pedro is someone I care about, yes, but…” You glance off to the side, searching for the safest answer. “But caring about someone doesn't mean there’s always a headline in it.”

Steph is silent for a split second, taking the microphone away from you once she realizes you’re not going to continue. “So, you’re just friends?”

Your eyes flicker toward the camera before returning to Steph, forcing a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. “Yes,” is your answer, but your body language says otherwise when you play with the ring around your finger.

“Well, you heard it here first, people. Just friends.” She nods in assurance. “Thank you.”

You’re thankful it’s over, but you can already feel the internet writing headlines. The nerves really got to you during that interview, and you’re sure no one believes that you and Pedro are just friends after you left his house so late at night.

Daphne won’t be too happy either with your answers. You really should’ve gone with what she told you to say in case of this, instead you kind of just freestyled it.

You notice everyone beginning to head to the theatre, so you follow the crowd inside. Before the movie starts, they give a speech to the audience that celebrates everyone behind the making of the film.

One by one all the actors come up and are congratulated, given praise for their work. The whole time you only focus on one of those actors, whose eyes are searching through the audience for one person in particular. You.

He can’t seem to find you in the sea of people, and it’s too late to continue searching because he already needs to take a seat.

So, the movie plays. You sit in the dark, laughing when you’re supposed to, clapping when it’s over, and the credits roll.

To the naked eye, you’re acting normal, but inside you’re unraveling. The entire movie played on one screen, and the interview was on repeat in the other—in your mind.

What if you hadn’t swallowed the part about being more than friends? What if you had told them it was so much more than that?

Frankly, you’re tired of hiding something that has been going on for months. You’re tired of Pedro denying that there’s nothing really going on between you, or at least, you’re tired of him pretending like there’s nothing going on because there is. There’s so much more than what he denies himself.

You quite literally canceled multiple meetings for an upcoming audition on Sunday just so you could squeeze in a fitting for the dress you wore. Replacing a meeting about character backstory for one about about heel height and fabric swatches.

The script you were reading last night? That was for the same audition, now pushed to Wednesday. The meetings for that same audition you had pushed to tomorrow.

And there was a few more things replaced, delayed, or rescheduled just so you could be here tonight. Just so you could support Pedro.

He didn’t ask you to and still, you showed up.

You’re booked and busy. You have a whole career to chase. You have people to call back, scenes to prep, and so much more.

But if he called tonight?

You’d answer.

taglist: @not-the-teen-witch @namelesslosers @oystercat

[fanged-fanfics]

Can I request headcannons for transformers x gn human reader who said they could hold their whole world in their hands then gently cupping their face?

☆ The World In Your Palm — Transformers x GN Human Reader ☆

Genre: Fluff || they/them pronouns for reader || No warnings needed

A/N: Features Optimus, Ratchet, Bumblebee, Starscream, Soundwave, and Megatron

──────.𖥔 ݁ ˖˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ──────

Optimus

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Can you now? That's quite the goal"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He thinks it's another cute little human idea initially. A bit of a naive one maybe, but most earth ideas for "shooting for the stars" always confused him a bit. He also sort of sums it up to a hyperbole and doesn't ask much more about it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Until you offer to show him. That gets his attention. Humans are capable of incredible feats, yes, but how were you planning to prove such a thing? Much more visibly confused, he leans down like you ask him to

ᯓᡣ𐭩 As soon as your palms cup his cheekplates, he's even more bewildered. After thinking about it for a second, he chuckles, leaning into your touch as he uses a large hand to pull you a little closer. "That's very clever" he says with a smile "looks like I can hold the world in my hand too"

Ratchet

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Uh..huh. Good luck with that"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Completely doesn't understand the setup. The whole world?? This one? The giant ball in space holding billions of people? What's that supposed to mean? He assumes you're trying to bait him into a joke or something

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Then you ask him to lean down, and he's even more lost. If this is some sort of practical joke you'd learned from others, he wasn't excited for the outcome. But because it's you, he trusts it, bringing his face close enough for you to reach

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands cup his face, he's even more lost. He runs the situation over again in his heads a few times before it actually lands. He acts exasperated to cover up how flustered he is, lightly patting your head. "You humans, I swear... cute trick, kid"

Bumblebee

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Oh yeah? Go ahead, try, I wanna see it"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's amused at the idea. He knows you're likely not being literal, but he wants to see where it goes. He's had a lot of fun learning human jokes so far, what's one more to the list?

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He leans down as soon as you asked, excited to see the expected punchline. He can't exactly see where it's going yet, but knowing you he hopes for the best and waits expectantly

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands land on his face, he has to take a second to get it. There's a bit of a 'is that... it?' moment where he's still waiting for the joke. Then it clicks all at once, and he gains a very obvious blush on his face. He cups his hands around your head, grinning widely "Well I can hold my whole world in just one hand! Beat that"

Starscream

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Ha! That bold, are you? Is there no end to your feeble little plans?"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He sounds a little mean about it, but it's just his usual teasing. Sort of in a 'that's nice honey' kind of way. He of course argues that if anyone is fit to carry the world, it would be him, obviously

ᯓᡣ𐭩 It takes some convincing to get him to kneel down. He pretends like he's oh so busy and has so many important things to do, but inevitably gives in and indulges your whims

ᯓᡣ𐭩 The second your hands reach his face, he gets it immediately. He stammered a bit, chuckling as he tried to brush it off. He didn't want it to be so obvious that something so small could fluster him, but he couldn't help it around you. "Ahem- well- you're very brave for being so forward! But I suppose I can allow you to hold on for a moment longer"

Soundwave

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Improbable. The world is too big for human hands"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 Takes your words at direct face value. He's trying to be honest and let you down easy. He's got no idea how you somehow convinced yourself you were strong enough to pull that off, but he feels like he has to bring you back to reality

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He's only confused when you ask him to come closer. What does this have to do with your claim? He leans down of course, but he doesn't understand what's happening

ᯓᡣ𐭩 When your hands hold his face, he just pauses. He's about to correct you, but before the words can fully leave his mouth, he realizes what you're trying to say. He sighs from his vents as he holds onto your wrists. "I see. I.. can hold the world in mine, too"

Megatron

ᯓᡣ𐭩 "Aiming big, aren't we? Your time will come"

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He indulges your comment. He's promised you the world, everything his servos can carry. Of course it'll all be yours someday, he'll make sure of it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He leans down at your request, though he of course asks what you're planning. He can tell by your little grin whenever you've got something brewing in your head, but he allows it for the sake of it

ᯓᡣ𐭩 He catches on the second you hold his face, and he chuckles in amusement. "Ah, that's what you meant" he said, leaning into the embrace "clever... for a human" he teases lightly

[nerdyscouttribute]

First Look (Modern Au Smoke x Annie)

Summary:Smoke see's Annie for the first time at the club

Warning: none ,just something cute and short

An: I might come back and add more to this ,but I just wanted to get it out my mind, so it's a little rushed. I got the idea from @partylikemajima

“Man, why you brought me here?”Smoke said. Irritation was written all over his face,as Stack was dragging him through the loud club. Lights flashing everywhere, people skin to skin dancing, drinks in hand. Music blasting through the speakers.

We said now drop it like a thottie, pop it like a thottie

Church girls acting loose, bad girls acting snotty

Let it go, girl-let it out, girl

“You too damn stuck up,need to get you a girl to dance with”, Stack said , a wide smile on his face.

Before Smoke could say anything back Stack said"I'm about to talk with a few people I see, I'll be back”. Walking off leaving an irritated Smoke standing in the middle of the club.

If he was going to make it through the night, he needed some liquor in his system. Fighting through the crowd to get to the bar. “Aye get me old fashioned”, Smoke said to the bartender.

He hated environments like this. Too loud , and too musty. Seeing the bartender set his drink down , he passed her the money ,and turned to look over the club.

Surveying the area, looking for exits -incase shit popped off. That's when his eyes froze on her . She was in a white corset that put her breast in the perfect view. A brown skirt that hugged her in all the right places.

She was dancing in the middle of her friends. Bending over as they hyped her up. Smoke was too caught up in staring at her that he didn't notice Stack standing next to him.

“Damn, you staring hard nigga”, Stack said laughing , snapping Smoke out of his trance.

“Nah just looking”, Smoke said , but it wasn't true. He wanted to know more about her , what her name is , maybe if it sounded good with his last name.

“ oh so you wouldn't mind if I went to talk to her”, A sly smirk set on Stacks face. Smoke shot a glare towards Stack,” Nah, don't go bothering her”.

But that went to deaf ears ,as Stack still made his way towards her.

———————————

Annie was having fun for the first time in a while. She was stressed with running her restaurant, she hadn't taken time to hang out with her friends. So when they called ,she answered,no questions asked.

She had few drinks in her , cause that was the only way her friends were going to get her to dance like this. Her hips moving wild , ass moving right along with every movement.

Until , he walked up trying to get her attention. She was trying to ignore him , but her friends weren't trying to do the same. “ What you want”, Grace said ,raising her eyebrow at Stack. “I wanted to know if your friend right there wanted to dance with my brother “, Stack said as he pointed at Annie. She didn't even get a chance to answer for herself when Pearline spoke up,”what does he look like”? “ Just like me ,but I'm cuter” , Stack said with a smirk on his face.

“ Mmm-go get him”, Mary said, eyeing Stack up and down. Stack said he'll be back , before running off. Annie spoke, reminding them she had a voice, “ how y'all gonna decide for me “.

“Girl you need to get you some ,and he might just be right for the job”, Pearline said.

—————————————

Smoke watched the whole thing. How she didn't speak ,but observed. Stack ran back over to him , once again a big smile set on his face. “If she says no you got three other girls to choose from”, Stack said trying to convince Smoke to follow him. Smoke didn't agree with that statement ,but he followed anyway .

Making it to where the girls were standing ,he kept his eyes zoned in on her , the one whose hair was pulled out her face. Letting him get a view of her big brown eyes, pouty lips,as she stared back at him.

Stack talked first as always, “ This my brother Smoke”. All the girls introduced themselves to him , saying their name . That's when she walked up. Gold heels adorning her feet. Making her eye level with him. When she spoke Elijah thought the time froze. “ I'm Annie , what's your name”, she said in a soft voice. It sounded so sultry to Smoke.

He didn't know how she did it ,but she got him to reveal his birth name with only one sentence. “Elijah”, he said almost breathless.

“We'll you wanna dance Elijah, this my favorite song”, Annie said head tilted to the side. He didn't respond, just held his hand out for her to take.

He forgot about everyone else, just wanted to have her near him.

So this must be something special

'Cause you could be anywhere you wanted

But you decided to be here with me

No coincidence, it was meant to be

Don't be shy, come let your boy get in

So you can tell all of your friends

Annie turned around in his arms. Swaying back and forth. His arms gripping around her waist, a bit tighter. Moving side to side with her.

Annie tilted her head back on his shoulder, breath hitting his neck. It made Elijah shudder, grabbing her hip bringing them even closer.

She knew what she was doing, and she wanted him to loosen up. Grinding back on him harder, left arm reaching back to grip the back of his neck to lean down. He allowed her to bring his head down into her neck.

Lips hitting her soft brown skin. Leaving soft kisses until he got near her ear. “You know you can capture someone's attention in a crowded room”?. A smile appeared on her face. Lifting her head up to turn around in his arms.

Arms now resting on his shoulders, his arms resting around her waist. “No I didn't know that, I just came to have fun with my girlfriends”.

“Well I'm sorry for my brother, for interrupting yall night”, Smoke said. He wasn't really sorry, he was glad his brother had the courage to do what he couldn't . “It's alright I want to get to know you more Elijah”.

[inexplicifics]

I’m also a writer, of both fanfics and works I hope to publish someday, and I was wondering if I could ask your advice. I have a number of larger projects that I want to undertake, but thinking about how long it’s going to take to finish them makes me anxious and then I won’t even start. You’re an incredible writer and you have so many finished works; how do you do it? What would you recommend for someone who feels incredibly daunted by the lengthy and disheartening process that is writing a novel or series?

Also thank you for your Accidental Warlord series; it brings me inexpressible joy every time I read it

Oooh okay this is a complicated one. Let's see.

First off, and this is hard: don't compare your output to other authors. I have what my friends affectionately refer to as Wordy Bitch Disease. I write a lot, I write fast, and I write clean enough copy that Rose isn't doing copyedits, she's doing plot and characterization fixes. I start a new WIP...pretty near daily some weeks, and they do not all get done. My WIPs list is frankly fucking terrifying. But it's important to note that I have been writing pretty consistently for twenty years at least, and I was not as fast, coherent, or skilled when I started. For that matter, when I'm tired or stressed or just feeling blah, sometimes the words don't come, and it's important not to beat yourself up about it when that happens.

Second bit of advice: start smaller. I really, really like flash fic challenges and themed prompt lists and tumblr ask memes, because they make me limit my story to what can be told in a few thousand words. That lets me improve my craft without getting bogged down in enormous plotlines. (Yes, sometimes the story still grows a plot. But it's less frequent.)

Third bit of advice: take little bites, and accept that it's going to take a long time and possibly several drafts. When I started MBTT, I genuinely thought it would be 50K. (I am bad at estimating finished lengths of stories.) But I still took it one chapter at a time, and tried to have each chapter be a coherent whole, a chunk of story that needed to be told. When I'm working on the AWAU, if I think about the whole overarching storyline too much, I get overwhelmed and have to go stick my head under a proverbial rock for a while. But one story is doable, most of the time. I've had to restart drafts for some stories two, three, four times to get the voice and style and plot to cooperate. Be willing to say, That's not working, and try something else, even if you're really fond of what you've written so far.

Fourth bit of advice: learn what style of planning works for you. Some people like to outline in great detail. Some people like a sketchy outline. Some people, like me, can't outline - it kills the story for me. The WIP I started this morning has a notes section for important characterization details and the single plot point "Bandits?" Anything more than that, and I won't write it, because in some sense I've already written it so why bother doing it again?

Fifth and final bit of advice, because this is getting long: if you can find a cheer-reader, cherish them. Having someone in the doc leaving comments or emoticons helps immensely with knowing how my readers will react and with keeping my own enthusiasm for a story stoked high, which vastly increases the likelihood of it getting finished.

Good luck! Be brave! Thank you for the compliments!

I hope to read your stories someday!

[venusbyline]

hellooo! 1st of all, i just wanted to say that i abs love your work, i just love how you write, like love sooo bad ;')

can i ask for something? please pls pls do whiny aegon who's simply desperate asf for sister reader approval? it can be hcs or a full writing, it's up 2u! i just love the idea of him being such a babbling mess when it comes to pouring his frustration with being a king out, and reader is just soothing him by whispering sweet stuff on his ear and letting him eat her out just to see this guy be happy for a half min 😭

thank you sooo much! <3 also, can i be "🌸" anon?

thaaaank u sm sweetie, your compliment really means a lot 😭😭😭💕💕💕

oh how i luv whiny!Aegon, i swear he's such a whiny boy. imo he can be more a giver than a receiver if he's really in love or smth like that

and yesss please, you can be the "🌸" anon!!!

⚠️: SMUT CONTENT. soft dom sister!reader, king!Aegon II, Targcest (older brother/younger sister), oral sex (female receiving), cunnilingus, face-sitting, praise kink, cuddling and snuggling, quite fluff too. no use of y/n.

The Small Council had been extremely annoying that night. Everyone ignored what Aegon said, dismissing his political ideas and listening only to whatever Alicent and Otto had to say. Even Aemond, who was supposed to be just an intellectual person and a reserved prince — whose presence there had been granted by Aegon as a way of trying to get closer to the younger brother again — received much more attention and credibility than the King himself.

He could not understand what he was doing wrong. Although he was not a very studious or smart man, his efforts to learn a little about political matters were remarkable — or at least they should have been. Yet, no one cared about that.

No one, except you.

His dear little sister. The one he could always vent to like a child, acting like you were older than him, even though you were born two years later. Aegon always sought your comfort, preferring your company to the idea of getting drunk and having sex with several whores, as he did when he was younger, before Alicent made the betrothal with you official, which would finally happen in just a few moons.

"They never listen to me. They spoke about me, never with me..." Aegon whimpered, his head resting on your breasts, fidgeting with his fingers anxiously as he lay next to you on his bed. "I do not think I will ever be a good ruler."

While one hand of yours was stroking his silver hair, the other one went to his own, caressing them to keep him from fiddling with the rings he had been wearing since he became king.

"You are a great ruler, my love," you assured him with a whisper next to his ear, and Aegon lifted his head to look at you with those big, sad eyes, seeking your approval as if he were still a little child wanting to make his mother proud. "The smallfolk like you and you care about them. That's much more important than the approval of the members of the Council."

Aegon gave you a soft smile, but then whined again, rubbing his face over the thin fabric of your nightgown. Your nipples perked up almost instantly, and it was impossible for you not to chuckle. He was always so needy, so whiny, desperate for a little bit of approval. No matter what you said, to Aegon your opinion was always worth far more than anyone else in the Seven Kingdoms.

"Want to eat me out, brother?" asked with a smirk, and Aegon whined in agreement.

He did not even bother to think about a coherent answer or wait for your order, just immediately laid down on the bed on his back, hands shaking with excitement. You rolled eyes playfully, realizing how hungry he was for you, how willing he was to be good to his little sister.

Getting up to kneel on his mattress, you moved closer to his body, lifting the linen nightgown enough for Aegon to see those beautiful bare thighs and the golden hairs of your center. The king let out a low gasp, delighting in the sight, his thick cock growing harder inside his white cotton pants.

Putting your legs on either side of his body, you hovered your lower half so close that he could smell that natural, musky scent he loved so much. However, Aegon did not dare pull you yet, knowing he needed to earn it. "Please, little sister. Please... I want to eat your pretty cunt out so bad. Please, baby, I am going to make you feel so fucking good..."

Raising an eyebrow playfully at his begging tone, you purred. "It's all yours, brother. Show me what a good little boy you are."

Aegon almost trembled with pleasure when you finally sat on his face. The taste of your sweet arousal drove him crazy, completely out of control and desperate to swallow every drop. At first, his tongue explored the entrance of your cunt, sticking the tip there and then moving up to the spot he loved the most: your clit.

The small bundle of nerves was already slightly swollen due to that growing arousal, and you could not control your high-pitched moan when Aegon's full lips sucked it and pulled it forward a little, a soft spitting noise sounding when he released the bud.

Your hand went straight to the headboard of his bed, needing to steady yourself on something as Aegon began to move his tongue, moving your clit from side to side and sucking it like before for a second time. "F-Fuck, brother... It feels so good, you are such a fucking good boy."

Aegon whimpered and closed his eyes when he felt you run a hand down to his hair, pulling it tightly against your cunt, stopping him from breathing for a few seconds and rubbing yourself against his lips and nose, turning him into a whiny, sticky mess.

The king felt in the Heavens every time you moaned his name and told him what a good boy he was, every time you tightened the grip on his scalp and rode on his face as if you wanted to choke him to death. Although he would never admit it to anyone but you, Aegon always loved receiving that special type of daily comfort and making you cum in his mouth. He always loved whimpering and cumming in his own pants, licking all the drops of your sweet squirt.

[bewitched-hours]

Hehehehe nice food (Walks away with sus angst bluududx fem!child reader shaped throat)

and no i did not kiss the knife that i used to stab yu and bluudud >:3

ok enough angst time to move on-

So err the spectre removed reader memory but forgo to erase her memory of bluudud so reader slowly getting her memory back (if they hang out alot which yes they do)

i dunno if this is the last part or not just based on yu

-Kikiki Anon(i changed cus i don wanna be a kiclown no more)

... now, I'm not about to say I'm against making more of this because it feels eerily similar to Jane and John and those two already deserve happiness so fuck it, I'll turn this into a whole series if you want, Kikiki-

Like part 1 and part 2, reader gets She/Her~

Something must've cracked...

Something happened for your mind to suddenly have these flickers of your old self returning. And it didn't go unnoticed when it happened.

The first time was with 1x1x1x1, who was supposed to simply make sure that you wouldn't do anything stupid to yourself.

But she caught the way you quietly mumbled how cool he looked and her head practically snapped around to look at you in shock, meeting an unfamiliar sparkle in your eyes for mere seconds before it seemed to fizzle out and you were back to 'normal'.

But when he told the others, it caused them to pay a lot more attention to you and see if there was anything they could do to maybe cause these flickers purposefully.

So far it seemed that it was usually things you used to love talking about when you were still a survivor.

Pr3typriincess making you a bow in your favourite colour, C00lkidd asking you to play hide and seek for a change instead of tag, even Bluudud begrudgingly having you watch him play a game you showed interest in even though it felt boring to him and he had a hard time not complaining about it...

But it did bring you back... Somewhat...

You were never there for long but the more they tried, the longer you seemed to stay Lucid. The longer you were back and babbling praises to them for being such good friends to you.

The longer you seemed to remember...

At first it was scary when you remembered for longer than a few seconds, wondering why you were different and why you weren't with the survivors anymore.

But you gradually adjusted and would even begin to tell C00lkidd, Bluudud and Pr3typriincess about how the survivors took care of you. Especially 007n7.

You've mostly reacted to the other killers like C00lkidd would but weren't against just goofing off and going along with whatever was happening.

During rounds though... The Spectre would get a grip on you again and although it felt like all the progress was reset, you still remembered. You just needed time to adjust again.

Not that anyone really cared. You were just another kid in the cabin, usually off with one of the others to play games or gossip over tea.

But most of your time was taken by Bluudud wanting his ego-booster back.... Or so he claimed.

You could tell he was genuinely starting to enjoy his time with you but was too prideful to admit it. Rather lashing out at anyone that pointed it out or just denying it.

It didn't change the fact he would sometimes wake up from nightmares and look for you first to hold onto for comfort...

Anything you'd like to request/ask? Check out my pinned post first and I'll be happy to write up whatever you want!

[akira-dulbar]

a precious jewel.

Image from Pinterest (I finally know how to post images).

Summary: For your age, you have a unique appearance; you look younger than you are, but it becomes difficult to have someone, although that stops being the case when you meet a man in a suit.

-----------

Thanks to your genes, you've never had to worry much about your appearance. Some call you a time stealer, others believe you have the fountain of youth, and others call you a liar for not believing in your age.

But that never bothered you, you didn't pay attention to it, not until you realized that finding a partner was difficult, or rather, VERY DIFFICULT.

You didn't pay much attention to having children, but you still wanted a partner who loved you and didn't see you as just a pretty face, or something even more unpleasant.

Every man you've dated was worse than the last, and you have several examples.

There was one who was a little younger than you, not enough to worry about, but still considerable enough to date you. He was charming, sweet, and romantic, but that was forgotten when he started calling you his sugar mommy and started making jokes about it. You wanted to ignore it, but you couldn't when he insistently asked you for money.

Then another man came along who was a little older than you, which didn't bother you because you thought he'd be more mature than the last. That was forgotten again when he started showing you off like a trophy, saying you were younger than you were to impress others by landing a "so young" woman. You hated him like crazy because you were proud of your age because of your experience and everything you'd been through, thank you.

And so the list of imbecile men you had the misfortune of dating continued. You almost thought you'd be left without a partner…

Until you met a particularly polite and charming butler.

---------------

You volunteered to pick up your niece from school. You didn't have anything special to do that day, and when your younger brother called for help, you didn't refuse.

And there you were, ready to go pick her up. When you got out of your car to head for the gate, you saw a man dressed like a butler standing in front of the gate next to a car shouting for money. There were a few minutes left until the kids left, so you just decided to stay at the gate for your niece to see you. Nothing unusual.

The minutes passed, and you were still waiting for the gate to open. You decided to close your phone and check the notifications to see if anything happened. You didn't realize you had dropped your wallet when you took it out.

"Excuse me, ma'am, you dropped your wallet." You looked up to see the same butler from before, only this time with your flower-printed wallet.

"Oh, thank you very much, sir…" you gesture to the man as you take your wallet.

"Alfred Pennyworth, if it's not too much trouble, I could ask where you got that wallet."

"Well, Mr. Pennyworth, I couldn't tell you where I got it because I made it."

"Really? You have some very peculiar designs. You have good taste, madam…"

You tell him your name as you put your wallet away and he thinks for a moment.

"Do you like flowers, Mr. Pennyworth?"

"That's right. Gardening is my favorite hobby, and your flower designs are beautiful." You feel a smile spread across your lips when he says those words.

"Wow, it's nice to meet another gardener in this city," you say as you shake his hand.

"Do you like gardening too?" Alfred shakes your hand and squeezes it gently.

"Yes, and sewing too, although you can deduce that from the wallet." You try to let go of his hand, but he takes it and kisses your palm, making you freeze and feel your cheeks turn a little pink.

"It's also nice to meet a woman with good taste like you," he says, still holding your hand in his. Your heart wouldn't stop beating, and you felt like a schoolgirl.

You weren't religious, but if God finally granted your wish for a good name, you'd be so happy and a good believer. You say, looking into Alfred's eyes, as he also takes after you.

"Alfred?" He says in a low, somewhat childish voice. The two of you turn your heads, letting go of each other's hands as you look at a dark-skinned boy with green eyes, frowning at the two of you.

"Master Damian, it's good to see you," Alfred says, turning to look at the boy named Damian. The boy just stares at you while nodding at Alfred.

"Likewise…"

"Well, we have to say goodbye. It was a pleasure meeting you, miss." You turn to look at Alfred and say a quick "likewise" as he watches her leave with the boy, opening the door for her to get in.

Before he gets in the car, he turns to look at you intently.

"I hope to see you again, miss."

You smile at him while nodding and then watch him leave.

"Hello, aunt." You don't turn to look at your niece while she's by your side. You just look at where the car was and feel like you can smile.

"Auntie?" Your niece seems bewildered as you turn to look at her, smiling.

----------

"What was that?" Damian gets out of the car as he heads for the mansion's door. The entire drive from school to home was silent, perhaps because Damian didn't want to think about what he saw, but now he did want to talk.

"What was that, Master Damian?" Alfred follows behind him.

"Alfred, I'm not a child. I know what I saw." Damian enters the mansion with Alfred to head to the table where the others were waiting for lunch.

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

"Alfred…" Damian was interrupted by Dick, who appeared in the living room doorway.

"They're here! How was school?" Dick gives Damian space to enter the living room.

"The ride was as smooth as always."

"Alfred was flirting with a lady at the school entrance," Damian says, interrupting Alfred as he stares at his father, who's choked on the water he's drinking.

"What?" asks Tim, who's across the table, his laptop open.

"Alfred… flirting?" Dick stares into space while holding onto a chair, seemingly unable to process those two words together.

While everyone was silent, a pin could be heard dropping as everyone seemed to process the information.

Suddenly, Jason's snorting laughter was heard, standing next to Tim. He was clutching his stomach as he turned to look at Damian.

"Good joke, dude. Make it more believable next time," Jason said, sighing with laughter.

"This isn't a joke, Jason. I saw with my own eyes how he took her hand and kissed her palm."

"What?!" the three boys said, while Bruce still seemed to be staring at the glass.

Meanwhile, Alfred quietly left the room and headed to the kitchen to serve the food.

--------------

"Come on, Aunt!" Your niece kept wanting you to tell her what happened at the school entrance. The two of you were in the car while you drove to your brother's house.

"I've told you several times, little one, it was nothing," you say, looking at her in the rearview mirror.

"It was nothing? Aunt, you were blushing! You seemed delighted." She smiles as if she'd discovered a huge secret, while you can only manage a small smile.

"Honey, don't exaggerate, it was just a one-time thing… maybe I won't see him again."

"What if it's not just a one-time thing? What if you run into him again? You have to be ready!" Much to your chagrin, it doesn't seem like your niece is going to let the subject go.

"I don't think it will happen."

"But if it does?"

You don't say anything as you park the car in front of your brother's house, then turn to look at your niece.

"Sometimes it's good to dream, honey," you say, taking off your seatbelt.

"In any case, don't say anything to your father. You know how he gets at the thought of me having a partner." Not only have you suffered with your previous relationships, but your brother has become so involved in them that he doesn't find it funny to talk about a future partner.

"Yes, Aunt…" Your niece nods as she gets out of the car, probably remembering how some of your previous partners were such idiots that her father had to intervene.

At least it makes you happy that someone still dreams of something that's best for you.

--------------

"What's she like?" Tim asks as he helps clear the plates from the table. Alfred forbade them from talking about it while they were eating, but now that they'd dug, they could talk as much as they wanted, much to Alfred's dismay.

"Who's who, Master Tim?" Alfred remains unaffected as he continues walking toward the kitchen.

"Oh, come on, Alfred, you don't have to be shy," Dick appears behind Alfred as he follows him into the kitchen.

"Dick's right, you can tell us." Jason is already in the kitchen, watching Alfred and his brothers enter.

"Well, she likes gardening, and she's a seamstress. She's pretty, but she clearly has a good knowledge."

"This is historic! Alfred finally has a conquest!" Dick stands in the doorway, smiling at Damian, who didn't seem happy about any of it.

"What's that supposed to mean, Master Dick?" Alfred raises an eyebrow at Dick, who now seems nervous about what he said.

"Well, that's… I mean… It's not that you can't win anyone over… It's just that…" Dick seems more nervous as he speaks, but luckily Jason seems to take pity on him.

"What the golden boy means is that we've never seen you interested in any woman since we met you… not even Bruce can see that," Jason shrugs as he points to his adoptive father, who is also standing in the kitchen doorway.

Everyone looks at Bruce, who just stands in the doorway, staring at Alfred, confirming what they suspected.

"Alfred… is it safe?" Bruce approaches his sentimental father while he's cleaning the dishes. While everyone (except Tim) sighs when they hear this, Alfred swears he hears a "it was obvious he'd say that," possibly from Jason, as he turns to look at his sentimental son.

"Master Bruce, you guys are acting like I'm getting married without warning. I barely met her today and we haven't even exchanged numbers. I might never see her again."

"That's why we need to investigate thoroughly, just in case you run into each other more than once. Let me…"

"Master Bruce, if I may remind you, I'm the one who checks your dating history. And in this case, the young lady seems to be… exceptionally qualified."

"Did you just call her 'qualified'? That's the hottest thing I've ever heard from your mouth," Dick whispers to Jason, who looks at him with a raised eyebrow in confusion.

Alfred, ignoring them but with an almost imperceptible smile, continues, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to make the tea." Just for me… unless someone else wants to behave and deserve a cup.

Everyone falls silent as Alfred strides out of the room, leaving a silence filled with complicity.

-----------

You walk through the crowd as you head to your favorite coffee shop. It's been two days since you ran into that gentleman, unfortunately, and you haven't been able to meet up with him again.

Your brother couldn't pick up his daughter, so you couldn't use that as an excuse to see him again. Going just to see him seemed inappropriate, considering it can only be a one-time thing.

So there you are, sipping coffee at your favorite coffee shop while you decide to read some poetry. It was better than thinking about your disastrous love life… or lack thereof.

You sigh as you continue reading your book.

without noticing three people entering the shop, heading to the register to order.

"You didn't have to come, Alfred." Tim looks at the menu as he approaches the register.

"It's no bother, Master Tim. Besides, I've seen some good reviews of this place, and it seems perfect to try coffee from outside for once."

"The previous places were a mockery of its name."

"Or maybe you have too high expectations, Damian."

"Because it doesn't meet its objective."

"Not all of them have your taste. You're too critical of those places." As Tim continued speaking, Alfred noticed your presence. You were sitting not far from him. Seeing that the kids were still talking, he decided to leave them for a moment and head over to you.

"If it's not me, then who? People have terrible taste," Damian spoke, not noticing Alfred's absence.

"This isn't going anywhere, Alfred, could you… Alfred?" Tim turned to see where Alfred had gone, seeing that he was heading for a specific table.

"Damian, is it…?"

"Yes, it's her…"

Meanwhile, Alfred stopped at your table.

"Wow, Gotham seems smaller every day," Alfred said softly but loudly. You look up in surprise to find Alfred there, spilling some of your coffee. He quickly offers his handkerchief.

"Mr. Pennyworth, what a… coincidence?" You smile, embarrassed by the small incident.

Before Alfred can figure it out, Tim appears behind Alfred, followed by Damian.

"Oh, hi! Are you that famous purse artist? Alfred keeps telling us about—(Alfred stares, causing Tim to cough.)—"let's say, your… good taste in flowers."

"Drake, that was pathetic."

"And you're…?" You look at Damian, remembering perfectly that he was the guy Alfred picked up from school. You can't quite remember his name, since you weren't thinking clearly at the time.

Damián crosses his arms, staring at you. "The one who checked your background. Clean, for now." That leaves you surprised and speechless.

Alfred quickly intervenes. "Master Damián, please." Alfred turns to look at you, continuing. "Excuse your… enthusiasm."

Before he can answer, Alfred turns to the two boys, resigned. "Teachers, why don't you choose a table? I'll join you in a moment."

Damián looks like he wants to protest, but Tim drags Damián to a distant table, but he doesn't stop looking.

"Is it always like this?" you ask curiously, since you've never experienced that kind of scenario before.

Alfred sighs theatrically, gives them one last look, then turns to you. "Unfortunately, yes. But…" (you see him take out a pencil, then grab a napkin and write) "perhaps a phone number will make up for the embarrassment," he says, handing you the paper.

You accept the napkin more cheerfully and smile at him as he says,

"I'd be delighted, Mr. Pennyworth."

"Just Alfred, please, ma'am." You smile at them, while Tim and Damian don't seem very happy.

----------

I wanted to write more, but I'd like your opinion on whether to continue or not. I'm thinking about this theme: Bruce as a jealous son who doesn't want to give up on his father and who will interrogate you whenever he can; Dick and Jason being the happiest, but also a bit cautious; and, finally, Damian and Tim joining forces to prevent this from going any further, as they don't want to give up on their grandfather.

An example or something that will happen in the next chapter (?):

Will Bruce react with paternalistic protection? ("Alfred, if she makes you happy, fine… but if she hurts you, Batman will come for her.")

Will the Waynes investigate you? (Jason: "I'm going to stalk her to see if she's worthy of Alfie." Dick: "No! Let's do it discreetly!" Tim: "No! We have to hack her.")

Or will Damian be your biggest obstacle? ("Pennyworth is family. I won't let a stranger take him.")

And much more! Literally a lot, a LOT more—well, maybe not that much—a little drama, somewhat unusual situations, etc.

But…

That's up to you. If you like it, I'll obviously continue and turn it into a miniseries, or if I want to continue, I will, but I think the final decision is mostly yours.

Good morning/afternoon/evening.

I don't know much English.

[ceyanabbiolo]

PHOTOGRAPH // M.S [14]

Summary: Daphne Denoire, a 21-year-old, returns to Boston after 3 years—but working for her brother’s best friend, Matthew Sturniolo, wasn’t part of the plan. He’s a 26-year-old multimillionaire. She’s the girl he was never supposed to feel this way about. With secrets between them and boundaries set, how far will they go for a love they never saw coming?

Warnings: making out, slight fighting

wc: 4100

Chapter 14: Chill, Man. I’m…Taking a Shit

December had passed in a blur—busy, hectic, but surprisingly fun. Matt had been constantly tied up with shoots, which meant I was usually busy too. Our schedules were chaotic, but somehow it worked.

Right now, though, I wasn’t holding a camera or helping Matt pick wardrobe. I was sitting across from a woman in her mid-forties with kind eyes and silver and brown-streaked hair—Dr Martinez, my new therapist.

After weeks of Matt gently urging (and by gently, I mean consistently bringing it up every other day), I finally caved and let him schedule a few sessions. I didn’t think I’d actually go through with it, but here I was—an hour in and still talking.

“I feel like I’ve gotten to know you pretty well in just one session, Daphne,” Dr. Martinez said with a warm smile, glancing at the clock as we neared the end. 

I gave a soft shrug. “I had a lot to say.”  

She nodded thoughtfully. “You’ve mentioned a lot today…your past, your parents, the trauma, your fears. But I noticed something interesting.”

My brows lifted slightly. “What?”

“Any time you talked about Matt, your tone changed. There was this… calmness. A softness.”

I felt my face warm and looked down at my hands.

“He seems important to you,” she continued gently. “Do you feel safe with him?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah. I do.”

She leaned back in her chair. “That’s good. Safety is the foundation for healing. And having someone you trust—that can make a world of difference.”

I looked out the window for a second, thinking.

“He helped me a lot,” I said softly, eyes still on the folded tissue in my lap. “He’s the one who suggested I come here.”

Dr. Martinez offered a knowing smile, her tone gentle but steady. “I know. He actually reached out personally and asked if I’d consider taking you on.”

My eyes lifted slightly in surprise, even though I already knew that information. 

“He was a client of mine years ago,” she continued. “Much younger than. Different kind of weight on his shoulders, but I remember how guarded he was in the beginning. Very few people let me in the way he eventually did.”

That stirred something in my chest—some kind of quiet understanding. Matt had always seemed like someone who carried things quietly. To be honest, when he told me he used to have anxiety, I was shocked; I didn’t even know. 

“He wanted to make sure you’d be with someone he trusted,” she added.

My throat tightened a little, but I nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

“I can see why he trusted you,” I murmured.

Dr. Martinez smiled again and checked the clock. “We’re just about out of time for today, but I’d like to see you again next week, same time if that works.”

I stood slowly, grabbing my coat. “Yeah. That works.”

As I reached the door, her voice followed me, warm, reassuring. “You’re doing well, Daphne. Coming here, opening up… It’s not easy. But it’s brave. I’ll see you soon.”

I nodded. “Thank you.”

I stepped outside into the cold December air, zipping up my jacket and tucking my hands into my sleeves. The city felt louder after the stillness of Dr. Martinez’s office. 

I reached the sidewalk and paused.

Matt’s car was parked right across the street, just like he said it would be. He was leaning against the hood, arms crossed, wearing his usual hoodie and dark coat. His eyes found mine instantly, and even from a distance, I could see the question in them—You okay?

I crossed the street slowly, feeling the wind brush against my cheeks. He straightened up as I approached, opening the passenger door for me.

“How’d it go?” he asked, voice quiet, careful as he pecked my lips. 

I hesitated, then nodded. “It was… good.”

He gave a small smile, not pushing further. “Good”

I smiled faintly and slid into the seat. Once he got in and started the car, the warmth from the vents hit instantly, and I relaxed into it. We drove in silence for a few blocks, the city slowly moving past our windows. But it wasn’t uncomfortable.

​​I glanced over at Matt as we waited at a red light, the soft hum of the heater filling the silence. His hand was still in mine, thumb gently brushing over my knuckles like it was second nature now.

“What are your Christmas plans?” I asked softly.

It was Christmad Eve today, and the holidays were fully in swing.

He exhaled through his nose, his eyes still fixed on the road ahead. “I’m required to be at Chris’s house this year.”

I raised an eyebrow. “Required?”

He gave a dry chuckle. “Yeah. Apparently, his arranged fiancée’s family wants us all to celebrate together.”

I tilted my head. “That’s kind of cute though…”

Matt glanced at me with a skeptical look. “Cute?”

I smiled. “Yeah. I mean… it sounds like they’re trying. That’s sweet, right?”

He shrugged, one hand lifting off the wheel to rub the back of his neck. “I think they’re warming up to each other. Caught him being all soft with her the other morning—called her ‘Ma’.”

I blinked. “He called her Ma?”

Matt nodded with a small smirk. “Yeah. Like it just slipped out. He tried to brush it off like it was nothing.”

I raised an eyebrow, a smile tugging at my lips. “That doesn’t sound like him.”

“I know,” Matt said, chuckling. “That’s why it was so weird. He caught me watching and was like, ‘what?’ all defensive. I didn’t even say anything. Man was flustered.” 

I laughed, picturing Chris—cold, serious Chris—accidentally letting a soft moment slip. “Sounds like he’s catching feelings.”

Matt gave a thoughtful nod. “Maybe. Or maybe he’s just trying to convince himself it’s real. Either way, I’ve never seen him look at anyone like that.”

I smiled at the thought of Chris being soft with someone, but the warmth faded quickly as my mind started to spiral again. Before I could dwell too long, I spoke up.

“Anyway… Noah’s back tonight.”

Matt nodded without looking over. “Yeah, I know. He texted me earlier.”

I turned my head toward him, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear. “You should stay until he gets home. I’m sure he’ll be happy to see you.”

He glanced at me briefly, his tone gentle. “I can... if you want me to.”

“I do,” I said softly.

There was a beat of silence before he added, casually—too casually, like he was trying not to make a big deal out of it, “I feel like we should tell him tonight.”

I blinked. “Tell him what?”

“That we’re together,” he said simply, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

My stomach flipped. “No!” I nearly shrieked, whipping my head toward him.

Matt jerked slightly, one hand still steady on the wheel as his brows shot up in alarm. “Whoa,” he said, stealing a glance at me. “I was just suggesting.”

I groaned, pressing a hand to my forehead. “Sorry—it’s just… now is not the time.”

Matt’s lips pressed together, a bit of irritation flickering behind his eyes. “Okay, but when is the time?” he asked as we pulled up to a red light. “Because from where I’m sitting, there’s never going to be a good one. He’s your brother. He’s always gonna freak out.”

I didn’t answer right away. My hands fidgeted in my lap as I stared out the windshield. The light hadn’t changed, but my thoughts were racing.

“I don’t know…” I said finally, my voice small.

Matt exhaled hard through his nose, leaning his elbow against the window and dragging a hand down his jaw. “Sweetheart,” he said, voice lower now, more serious, “you know I’m not trying to cause problems. But hiding us like this... it doesn’t feel right. It feels worse.”

I bit the inside of my cheek, heart picking up. “Matt, you know Noah. You know how he sees you…”

His head turned slightly. His brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

I instantly regretted saying anything. “I… it’s nothing. Forget I said that.”

“No.” His voice was firmer now. “Don’t do that. What did you mean? What does he think of me?”

I hesitated, fiddling with the sleeve of my coat. “Matt…”

“Tell me, Daphne,” he said again, this time quieter but more tense. “What does he think of me?”

My shoulders slumped a bit. I didn’t want to lie, but I didn’t want to hurt him either. “He’s your best friend, Matt. He knows you really well… how you were with girls before. He’s just... protective of me.”

Matt turned fully now, eyes narrowing slightly. “So what—you think he believes i’d be messing around? He’s messed around just as much as me ”

I didn’t answer right away.

The silence was enough.

Matt shook his head, laughing once under his breath without humor. “Unbelievable.”

“He’s not entirely wrong to worry,” I said carefully. “You had… a reputation. Before me.”

“And I’ve done everything to show you I’m not that guy anymore,” Matt said, clearly frustrated now. “Do you think I’m messing around?”

“No!” I said quickly, meeting his eyes. “No, Matt. I trust you. But Noah—he’s not just going to take our word for it. He’s going to assume things, and I’m scared he’s going to push you away, or me away. Or both.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, his hands tightening on the wheel. “I’ve never lied to him. I’ve never hurt you.”

“I know,” I whispered. “I know that. But it’s not about what you’ve done—it’s about how scared Noah is that someone else will break me again.”

Matt stayed quiet, the weight of my words settling over him like wet concrete. After a long pause, he spoke again, this time softer.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” he said. “I’m not perfect, but I wouldn’t add to your pain.”

My chest ached hearing him say it. I reached out, touching his arm gently. “I know, Matt… I just need a little more time.”

He nodded slowly, eyes on the road again. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll wait. But I want this—us—to be real out loud. Not just in secret.”

I gave his arm a light squeeze, then leaned my head against the window. My heart was heavy with guilt and gratitude all at once.

I really did not mean to offend him.

“Welcome home!” I grinned, pulling Noah into a hug the second he stepped through the door.

“Hey, Daph,” he said, wrapping one arm around me in return, his voice tired but warm.

He dropped his suitcase by the front entrance with a soft thud, stretching his neck out before heading toward the living room.

That’s when he saw Matt.

“No way—my brother,” Noah said with a grin as he approached him.

Matt stood, mirroring the smile. “What’s good, man?”

They clasped hands and pulled each other into that typical half-hug—firm back slap included. It was the kind of greeting you only see between guys who’ve known each other since years of friendship compacted into one smooth motion. You could tell there was real love in it. 

“Been a minute,” Matt said, giving him a nod.

“Too long,” Noah replied, still grinning. “You’ve been holding down Boston without me?”

Matt smirked. “Barely. It’s quieter without your mouth around.”

They both laughed, easing into the familiar rhythm like no time had passed. I watched from the side, my stomach Noah leaned back on the couch, still chewing on a fry, his gaze flicking around the room like he was genuinely impressed.

“By the way, Daph,” he said, wiping his hands on a napkin. “I like what you did with the place.”

I grinned, gesturing proudly to the twinkling garlands and the tree lit up in the corner. “All thanks to me and Pinterest.”

He let out a low chuckle. “Looks cozy. Real festive.”

A moment passed as he reached for his drink, then glanced over at Matt.

“You’re still heading to Chris’s tomorrow, right?”

Matt nodded casually. “Yup. Required family bonding and all that.”

I let out a involuntary snort, and Noah raised an eyebrow, but didn’t press further. Instead, he looked between the two of us a little too long.

I saw Matt give me a small smile. 

“So… how’ve you guys been?” he asked, tone light, but the way he said it made my spine straighten. It wasn’t accusatory, but something about the way his eyes lingered made me tense.

Matt shifting slightly. “We’ve been good. Work’s been… busy.”

“Yeah,” I added quickly, sitting up straighter. “A lot of editing on my end lately.”

Noah blinked like he hadn’t noticed our reactions. “I was just asking,” he said with a lazy shrug. “Didn’t mean to sound like a dad checking in on your report cards.”

Matt let out a short breath, subtly relaxing. “Nah, man. Everything’s solid.”

I nodded too, trying not to look suspicious. But the glance Matt and I shared said enough—we were both nervous wrecks pretending to be calm.

“How’s school been?” I asked, hoping to steer the conversation somewhere safer.

Noah let out a dramatic groan, sinking further into the couch. “Brutal,” he said. “I swear, if I have to memorize one more type of jurisdiction, my brain’s going to short-circuit.”

I laughed. “You always say that.”

“Because it’s always true,” he muttered, taking another bite of his burger. “ I had to write a paper comparing subject-matter jurisdiction to personal jurisdiction—why are there so many kinds of jurisdiction?”

Matt chuckled. “Sounds like a you problem, Mr. lawyer.”

“Easy for you to say,” Noah replied, pointing a fry at him. “You’re not the one crying over case law at 3 AM.”

“Still chose it though,” I teased.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Just remind me to never take another winter course again. Being home is the only thing keeping me sane right now.”

I shrugged playfully. “Well, thank goodness this is your last year. Soon you’ll officially be Harvey Specter, and I’ll be your Mike Ross.”

Matt let out a soft chuckle while Noah gave me a look, clearly trying not to smile.

“For the hundredth time, Daphne,” he said, shaking his head, “I’m not hiring you without a law degree.”

“Rude,” I said with mock offense. “So much for my dreams.”

He smirked. “Sorry, ethics come first.”

I stuck my tongue out at him as he grabbed another fry. “Anyway… still gotta make it through finals and pass the bar. That’s when the real stress begins.”

Matt leaned back into the couch beside me. “You’ll pass. You’re one of the most disciplined people I know.”

Noah raised an eyebrow, grinning. “Did you just call me obedient?”

He wiggled his brows at Matt, who casually blew him a kiss across the room.

I stared at them in utter disbelief, my jaw half-dropped.

Noah burst into laughter at my expression. “You seem jealous, Daph?”

“Disgusted actually” I crossed my arms. “Why would I be jealous of two fully grown, supposedly straight men shamelessly flirting with each other?”

Matt smirked. “Because you’re not getting any of the attention, obviously.”

“Oh please,” I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “If I wanted attention, I wouldn’t be sitting here watching this bromantic comedy unfold.”

Noah leaned back with a smug smile. “Just admit it—you can’t handle our chemistry.”

I groaned. “I need a new brother…and boss.”

I lay sprawled on my bed, the distant sound of Matt and Noah still laughing and messing around in the living room echoing faintly through the walls. They’d been at it for nearly three hours now, and it was pushing close to midnight.

I turned onto my side, scrolling aimlessly through my phone to pass the time. My thumb paused over the photo album. A small smile tugged at my lips.

There was one of us at that old-school diner, both grinning like idiots over milkshakes. Another where we were holding hands under the table, only our intertwined fingers in focus. One he’d secretly taken of me in LA—sunlight spilling through the window, catching my messy hair and sleepy smile. There were a few random selfies, kissing each other’s cheeks, our faces squished together like goofs. 

And then, the one that made my chest warm: a shot he had taken on my phone, of me cuddled into him, half-asleep, smiling in that lazy, content way I only ever did around him. His arm was around me, protective and loose, and even though I wasn’t looking at the camera, the happiness was clear on my face.

I stared at that one for a while, thumb hovering over the screen, heart aching in the softest way.

Gosh, when did this boy start meaning so much to me?

I sighed, locking my phone and tossing it on the nightstand. The laughter outside had died down a little.

A part of me wanted to call him in here. Just to talk. Just to have him near again. Instead, I tossed the blanket off and padded toward the bathroom, grabbing my toothbrush from the cup by the sink. The cold tile met my bare feet as I began brushing my teeth, half-lost in thought, still a little warm from the memories sitting in my phone.

Just as I leaned down to rinse, the door creaked open.

I turned, toothbrush still in hand, and found Matt slipping inside, shutting the door behind him with that trademark smirk playing on his lips.

“Seriously?” I whispered through a mouthful of toothpaste. “What if Noah catches you in here?”

Matt just shrugged, unbothered, and reached behind him to quietly click the lock shut. “Guess we’ll just have to be real quiet then,” he murmured with a grin, stepping closer.

I rolled my eyes, rinsing quickly. “You’re ridiculous.”

He leaned against the counter, watching me with that boyish smile that made my stomach flutter. “You missed me. Don’t lie.”

I gave him a look through the mirror, dabbing my face with a towel. “I saw you like, two hours ago.”

“That’s a long time,” he teased, slipping his arms around my waist from behind and resting his chin on my shoulder.

I finished rinsing my mouth and used a towel to wipe. 

“You’re impossible,” I muttered, though I didn’t pull away. I felt his warmth through the fabric of my shirt, his breath brushing against my skin.

He turned his head, pressing a soft kiss just under my ear. “I missed you,” he said again, but softer this time. Sincere.

I sighed, a small smile tugging at my lips despite myself. “Same to be honest.”

Matt chuckled, turning me gently around to face him. “I think I’m starting to understand just how lucky I am,” he said, brushing a piece of hair behind my ear.

I looked up at him, heart thudding, our bodies close in the cramped bathroom space. His fingers traced slow, delicate circles along my waist.

“Matt…” I warned, half teasing, half breathless.

“Yeah?” he murmured, leaning in just enough that our noses brushed.

“I swear if Noah comes knocking—”

“I’ll hide in the shower,” he whispered, grinning against my lips.

I giggled, finally leaning in the rest of the way to kiss him—slow, warm, and full of something I wasn’t entirely ready to name yet. But whatever it was…it felt like home.

Matt’s lips moved against mine with growing urgency, his hands slipping under the hem of my shirt to rest on my hips. I melted into him, arms wrapped around his neck, my back pressing lightly into the counter. The bathroom was dimly lit, our breathing the only sound between soft kisses.

“Sweetheart…” Matt murmured between kisses, voice low and husky. His lips brushed down my jaw, then back to my mouth, deeper this time—slow and intoxicating. My fingers tangled in the fabric of his hoodie, and I couldn’t help the quiet noise that slipped from my throat.

Then—

BANG. BANG. BANG.

“Matt?” Noah’s voice came from just outside the door. “What are you doing, man? You said you were just using the bathroom—did you fall in or something?”

I practically jumped, smacking Matt’s chest in panic as I pulled away, breathless. “Oh my god,” I whispered sharply, wide-eyed.

Matt blinked, lips red and chest rising. “Shit,” he muttered under his breath, already moving toward the door.

I grabbed his sleeve. “Don’t open it yet—he’ll see me,” I hissed.

Matt grinned, clearly still high on the moment, but nodded. “Seems like youre the one who needs to hide in the shower”

“Matt?” Noah called again, louder now. “You good?”

“Yeah!” Matt shouted back, forcing a casual tone. “Chill, man. I’m… taking a shit.”

I looked at him, incredulous. Taking a shit? Really? 

Noah scoffed through the door. “Of course you are? That burger digested quick.”

Matt turned to me with a shrug and mouthed, he’s suspicious.

I mouthed back, because you’re being sketchy!

“Matt!” Noah called out again, this time closer. “Have you seen my sister?”

Matt’s grip on my waist tightened. His body was still between me and the door, and I watched the flicker of panic in his eyes before he called back—

“No!” he shouted. “I haven’t seen her!”

I smacked his chest silently, mouthing seriously?

Matt cleared his throat and added, “Maybe she went for a walk or something. She was talking about it earlier.”

I stared at him with wide eyes like he’d just handed us both a death sentence.

“A walk?” Noah’s voice was now right outside the bathroom door. “Why the hell would she go for a walk at midnight, Matt? That doesn’t sound like her.”

Shit.

Matt winced, trying to come up with something else. I heard Noah curse under his breath. “I’m calling her.”

My blood ran cold.

I frantically dug into the pocket of my pajama shorts, yanking out my phone and silencing it just as the screen lit up with Noah Incoming Call.

I held it up to Matt, wide-eyed, breathing through my nose like I was in a spy movie.

Matt bit down a laugh, barely holding it in, whispering, “You’re literally gonna get us killed.”

The phone buzzed silently in my hand, over and over. I watched Noah’s shadow shift under the door.

“Why isn’t she picking up?” he muttered to himself, his voice low but too close. I could hear the frown in his tone. “Matt?”

Matt turned toward the door. “Yo, man. I’m—still in the bathroom. Can we not have a conversation while I’m in here? Kind of in the middle of something.”

I smacked his chest again, mouthing you’re so dead.

Noah sighed, frustrated. “I’m gonna go check outside.”

Matt turned to me as we both exhaled like we’d just been defusing a bomb.

We heard Noah’s footsteps move away from the door, and Matt pressed his forehead to mine, still trying not to laugh. “Sweetheart, I swear… we’re this close to getting murdered.”

I whispered back, “We need to never do this again.”

He grinned, brushing his lips over mine again. “Until next time?”

I gave him a narrow-eyed look but couldn’t stop the smile creeping onto my lips. “You’re insane.”

Then he slowly opened the bathroom door—checking that the coast was clear—before slipping out, and I followed a second later, heartbeat thundering in my chest. 

I slipped quietly back into my room, heart still racing as I closed the door behind me. A second later, I heard Matt’s footsteps pad softly toward the living room.

He peeked out to make sure Noah was really gone, and when he was sure the coast was clear, he came back to my room, pushing the door open just enough to step in.

“Looks like he actually went outside to look for you,” he said under his breath, then leaned in and gave me a quick kiss. His lips were warm and fimilar. 

“I’m gonna head out now,” he said quietly. “Before he comes back and catches me crawling out of your room like a criminal.”

I nodded, trying not to smile as he pulled the door closed behind him again, but he paused.

“I’ll text him and say you came back while he was gone.”

I nodded again, a soft warmth settling over me. “Okay. Drive safe.” 

Matt leaned in one more time, placing a chase kiss on my lips, his voice low and tender. “Goodnight, sweetheart.”

“Goodnight,” I whispered, and with one last glance, he slipped away, leaving the faintest smell of his cologne behind—just enough to make me miss him already.

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[a/n: I need to get the climx to get going, I'm aiming for like 21-15 chapters? like and reblog! mwah] –ceyana

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[ballsandbabes]

Connection Lost

authors note: I know this is a very sports themed blog, but i recently stumbled about some very interesting Infos for a love and deepspace character, that got me inspired// y/n = your name// not proof read// GIF not mine // Have fun <3

pairing: Luke (LADS) x fem!reader

summary: Well, its pure chaos,but basically Luke has the hots for reader, who is an informant for Sylus. So what happends when filthy thoughts enter Lukes mind, while he still has the link to his brother??

genre: romance, fluff

word count: 9.5k

The N-109 Zone was colder than you imagined.

Not the kind of cold that gnawed at your skin—though the recycled air in the outpost left much to be desired—but the kind that wrapped around your thoughts. Isolated. Quiet. Too quiet.

You were new here. An informant Sylus had handpicked for reasons still unclear. He’d said he needed someone sharp, someone who didn’t ask too many questions—and you? You couldn’t help it. You were curious about the N109 Zone and it inhabitants, especially about the twins.

You failed your Hunter Examn three times and thus exhausted the maximum number of attempts. Now you were banned and would never be able to become a Hunter. But that didn't mean you weren't good. You did things your own way, at your own pace. You needed your rhythm and that fell apart when they tried to squeeze you into the Hunter Guild mould. You were almost broken. And now here you are. In a new city, without a proper job and with broken dreams. In short, the last year just sucked. sometimes you wished you hadn't moved to Linkon to fulfil your dream of becoming a Hunter. You've had all sorts of jobs over the past few months, none of them well paid.

But when a black letter fluttered through your letterbox, your hitherto dreary life took off again. The mysterious organisation Onychinus had asked for you. In a fit of ‘I have nothing left to lose anyway’, you ventured into the forbidden zone. You had been subjected to a series of tests before you finally met him: Sylus. The head of the organisation. Gangster. Ready for violence. Handsome.

Sylus was loud, unpredictable, often seen with a too-wide grin and a datapad that blinked with encrypted secrets. And then there were the twins: Luke and Kieran. At first you found them totally annoying whenever you handed in your reports at HQ. Stupid questions, sarcastic remarks and just all-round idiocy, you thought. Most of the time, you were just annoyed when they were around.

Everything turned out differently than you thought. One evening, you made your way back to your flat in Linkon, with Sylus' new assignment in your pocket. Over the next few days, you were to shadow a person whose name had only been shortened to MC, a young woman. A Hunter. You had felt like you were being followed the whole time, but you didn't think anything of it, as the crowds in Linkon always increased in the evening. But by the time you turned into your street, it should have been too late. With a loud clang, something metallic hit you on the back of the head.

They had stolen all the documents from you that said anything about MC. The twins had searched for you after your long absence and brought you to the headquater's crane room. You had grown fond of sylus, why didn't you know? But you seemed to remind him of someone he knew. That was also the reason why he had ordered you to live at the base from now on. Before you could say anything about it, your city flat had been cancelled. And that's how you ended up here.

Sylus and the twins had become something like your family. You had lost your father in the war and you no longer had the wish to see your stepmother. You were alone. And to be honest it felt great, to be able to come home to someone, even if it was just the twins. The two of them fascinated you. They seemed to share a brain. Finished each other's sentences and always seemed to know what the other was thinking. it felt like they shared their senses and thoughts, in a sense that they felt closer to being one single entity split in half, than two regular brothers. As you figured out relatively quickly both remained with their own personal tastes and personalities, even though they were pretty similar. You always asked yourself, if that meant that they also had shared feelings.

That couldn't be true for Kieran, he was leaning over the armchair next to you with his head to the floor, reading a book. he was the younger of the two and also the slightly smaller one. He was the calm, reliable, and stubborn one of the two. Kieran didn't seem like the type to share his feelings with his brother.

Luke, on the other hand, was a completely different story. He was temperamental, unpredictable and vigilant. He also had a penchant for cold things, especially ice cream, as you noted. So being around him, felt always colder than the zone you were stationed in—until he wasn’t.

The first time he looked at you, really looked, it was like you’d stepped into someone else’s memory.

___ _ _ _

“Stop staring,” Kieran muttered to his brother one night after you’d left the surveillance room. You weren’t supposed to hear it. But the door hadn’t quite shut.

“I wasn’t,” Luke replied, voice sharper than usual.

“You feel her too. Don’t deny it. You know I can feel your nerves lighting up like a relay. She’s pretty. I get it,” Kieran said annoyed. For his nineteen years, he was sometimes quite altruistic and mature.

A pause.

“I don’t want you in this, Kieran,” Luke finally said, “Not this.”

The silence that followed was heavier than any gravity shift. What was that about? MC, the woman you were supposed to be shadowing? Granted, she really was a beauty. Did Luke fall in love with the young woman while sifting through all the footage? You had to suppress a little laugh. Sure, he was spontaneous and impulsive, but that was a new level of stupidity, even for him.

But at the same moment, that the smile appeared on your face, something else had spread. A kind of sadness. You loved spending time with the two of them, but Luke was your favourite. He always had suggestions for things to do, he took you out of your everyday life, he gave you the feeling of endless freedom. His sarcastic remarks, the silly remarks, they made you smile. You were totally blown away when he knocked on your door and wanted to take you for a night-time ride on his motorbike, in the zone.

But his affections already seemed to be focussed on someone else.

___ _ _ _

Since overhearing the twins' conversation, you had become curious. Could the two of them really read each other's thoughts? The more you researched it, the more you learned. So it was no wonder, that you learned quickly, that the twins shared more than DNA. They were psychic mirrors—linked by something deeper than blood. Thoughts, pain, senses… pleasure. It was said that if one twin dreamed, the other would wake remembering it. It was totally strange. How was that possible???

You started catching Luke looking at you more often. But he never said anything beyond protocol. Never broke rank. Never touched. You were pretty sure that this was a new task for sylus to keep an eye on you. So you thought nothing of it.

___ _ _ _

Until the night, when the rain came—acidic and red, scattering your outpost’s comms and knocking out part of the signal array. The rain in the N109 zone was almost toxic due to the air pollution. If it fell very heavily in the same place, it corroded the surface. Sylus didn't like the fact that you wanted to go out to do your chores. He thought it was stupid and careless, but now was time to shadow your target inconspicuously. So you went nevertheless. And now??

Now you were stranded inside the auxiliary hub, alone, until the door opened with a mechanical hiss and Luke stepped through, soaked and grim-faced.

“I came to check on you,” he said. His voice had an edge—like he was trying not to feel something too deeply.

You smiled, teasing despite the tension,“Sylus send you?”

“No,” he replied.

"Then Kieran send you to check," you figured. The silence stretched. Then, softly, almost like an admission, “Sylus is on duty...Some meeting. And Kieran...he doesn’t know I’m here.”

That caught you, “But… I thought you two—”

“Always,” Luke said, “We’re always connected. Every thought. Every flicker of sensation. If I burn my hand, he flinches. If I close my eyes and dream, he sees what I see.”

You swallowed,“So… right now, he—?”

Luke stepped closer, “Not if I block him. Which I can’t do for long, only a few minutes. But I had to try. He would be so mad if he knew I am here.”

He looked at you then, like you were the answer to a question he hadn’t dared to ask until now.

“Do you know what it’s like,” he murmured, “to never have a moment that’s only yours?”

You shook your head. It must be awful, to share everything. When not even your thoughts were your own.

“I want this. I want the moments we share. But I don’t want him to feel it too,” Luke admitted. There was a fragility in his voice that cracked the shield you’d seen him wear like armor. For once, Luke didn’t seem like the older, colder twin. He seemed… human. Longing. Afraid.

“What happens if you cut the link?” you asked.

He hesitated. “To be honest, there is no way to to so. But if I had to guess, I would say Pain. For both of us. It’d probably be like slicing a wire that runs through your bones.”

You reached up, fingers brushing his wrist. His breath caught—so did yours,“ I cant imagine what it must be like to not be your own person, but rather two. Then how about we make this moment yours.”

You two had sat down. You asked him if there was anything he wanted to say that was none of Kieran's business. That he always wanted to feel that was none of Kieran's business. And so a short, honest conversation began. Luke confessed that he had once been in love, but that it had been a bad thing that Kieran had interfered. Kieran had been afraid of losing his brother, of having to share and had always beaten the girl up. You had asked him if there had been anyone else after that. He had replied that he couldn't allow you to do that in his situation. Not if it was always under observation. This answer brought tears to your eyes. The idea of never being able to love because there would always be someone else around made you sad. It also occurred to you that it wouldn't be easy to find someone who was okay with this situation.

"There should be moments and feelings that belong only to you," you say, leaning slightly towards him.

Mirroring your actions, he leaned in as well, and you felt the hum of restrained energy ripple between you—like static caught in the air, like the moment before a lightning strike. Something seemed to pull you towards him. And as his lips met yours, a tremor ran through him. A split-second later, a burst of pain flared behind his eyes. He gritted his teeth and pulled away, clutching his temple.

“Kieran...he,” he gasped.

“He...what?,” you asked. He did not answer. He felt Kieran bite his hand, a warning. Luke had felt the pain too. Kieran had done it to remind him that he too would feel the pain and heartache if it backfired.

Luke had almost forgotten about that. If you didn't feel the same as him, it would just be a game for you, both brothers would have to feel the strong emotions of unrequited love.

___ _ _ _

Luke didn’t speak to you for three days after the kiss. Not in the halls of the N-109 outpost, not over the comms, not even a glance when you passed in the mess hall and brushed shoulders by accident—though you were sure it wasn’t an accident. You replayed that moment in the auxiliary hub over and over in your mind. The kiss. The way he’d said “He can’t hear me.” The pain that flared in him before silence fell.

And now that silence was everywhere. It wrapped around you like a shroud. You weren’t the only one who noticed. Sylus cornered you by the diagnostics console on the fourth morning. He leaned lazily against the panel, arms crossed, one eyebrow raised in a look that was too casual to be innocent.

“Y/n, did you do something to Luke?” he asked bluntly.

You blinked, “What?”

“He’s been—off. Shut down. Like someone flipped all his switches halfway and forgot to put the rest back,” Sylus explained his point of view.

You gave him a wary look, “Maybe he’s just busy.”

Thats when Kieran felt the need to enter the conversation,a s he entered the room. He snorted,“My brother doesn’t get ‘busy.’ He gets obsessed. If he’s not working, he’s reading reports. If he’s not reading, he’s training. Lately, he’s doing none of that. You’re the variable.”

You tried to shrug it off, “We talked. That’s it.”

Sylus tilted his head, smile thin, “Talked, huh?” Kids these days were something different he thought. Kieran watched you a moment longer, something sharper in his eyes now, “I haven’t felt him lately. He cuts our connection sometimes....he has never done this before. It’s muffled. Like I’m hearing echoes through water.”

Your chest tightened,“You said once you shared everything. What happens if—?”

“If he cuts me out?” leaned closer, his voice dropping. “Then he’s hurting. Bad.”

You didn’t say anything, but Kieran wasn’t stupid. His eyes narrowed as the pieces clicked into place.

“Oh, no. Don’t tell me he—? Ohhh. He did.”

You looked down, voice barely above a whisper, “He said he wanted something that was his. Just for once.”

Kieran straightened slowly, the amusement drained from his face.

“He wouldn’t do that. Not unless…,” He trailed off, then swore under his breath,“He’s falling. That idiot.”

“Falling?,” you echoed.

“In love,” Kieran said bitterly,“Which is exactly why he’s avoiding you now.”

"That would explain a lot," Sylus chimed in. You stared at Kieran, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

Kieran ran a hand through his hair, “Oh, it makes perfect sense if you know Luke. He feels things harder than I do. Deeper. He tries to control it, manage it like a system, but if he falls for you—then it’s not just him anymore. It’s me too. I’ll feel it. Every heartbeat. Every ache. Every crack. Every longing.”

You stepped back, suddenly cold,“You’d feel it if his heart breaks?”

Kieran nodded,“Down to the last shattered piece.”

Seeing the shock on your face, Sylus stepped in,"We should probably have told you this earlier.... There is an organisation that is experimenting with the protocores on humans. Luke and Kieran come from just such a lab. They were born twins and orphans. That's why. times chose them, or so we assume. I found them on one of my missions when they were just six. They've lived and worked here with me ever since."

"Both Luka and I each have a piece of the same protocore in our bodies. We don't know where exactly, but it connects us and makes us one person," Kieran explained further.

You couldn’t believe it. Not really, but the tears in your eyes said something different.....This was horrible. You could never grasp what the both of them must have been through.

Not until later that night, when you found Luke standing alone on the northern perimeter of the dome, hands clasped behind his back, watching the storm swirl outside like it could wash away whatever he was wrestling with.

“Luke,” you said softly. He stiffened, didn’t turn.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” you tried again. He didn’t answer.

“I deserve to know why,” was your last try.

He was silent for a long moment, before speaking in a low voice, rough with restraint, “I suppressed the link to give you a moment that was mine. Just mine. I thought… I could hold onto it. Like a keepsake. But I underestimated the pain Kieran would feel, if the connection was lost. I cant imagine what it would feel like if I cut him off forever...the pain...”

Your heart twisted,“Then why are you shutting me out? Maybe I can help?”

He finally turned. His eyes were tired—dark circles under them, skin pale under the faint glow of the perimeter lights. His voice cracked like something barely held together,“Because I don’t want to fall in love with you.”

Silence dropped like a blade.

“Luke—,” you were taken aback.

“If I do,” he said, taking a step back, “you’ll be in every thought. Every breath. And if I lose you… it won’t just hurt me. Kieran will feel it too. He won’t say it, but he will. We’re not just connected—we’re entangled. We always have been.”

He looked down at his hands, as if they were covered in something he couldn’t scrub off.

“I suppressing the link would make it easier. But it didn’t. I still feel everything, more even, I can feel his pain, his anger towards me” he admitted.

You took a step toward him, and he didn’t move.

“Then don’t do it alone,” you said gently, “If you’re scared, I’ll be scared with you. But don’t pretend it didn’t mean anything. It did. To me.”

He looked up, and for the first time, you saw fear behind his usual calm—raw and honest.

“I’m not afraid of pain,” he whispered, “I’m afraid of what happens if you’re the one to walk away.”

You reached out, took his hand, “Then don’t give me a reason to.”

He didn’t pull away. For now, the storm stayed outside.

___ _ _ _

Let it be said: sneaking around a top-secret blacksite base controlled by Onychirus is technically treason. But it doesn’t feel like treason when Luke has his hand on the small of your back and is tugging you into some obscure storage closet between Section 4 and the emergency escape corridor. The lights in here flicker like a bad romance holodrama.

“Are we seriously doing this again?” you ask, breathless from running. Luke’s smirk is all slow, dangerous confidence,“We’re alone.”

“Until Sylus finds us and ejects us into space,” you teased. He kisses you anyway.

Across the base, Kieran groans and slams his datapad onto the table. It bounces, nearly shattering against the steel surface.

“He’s doing it again,” he growls to no one in particular.

The mercenary standing nearby flinches,“Who’s doing what?”

“My brother. My emotionally-repressed genius brother who thinks suppressing a psychic bond is the same thing as disabling it.” Kieran pinches the bridge of his nose,“I’m getting secondhand butterflies. BUTTERFLIES. You know what that feels like? Like indigestion and emotional weakness. In my chest.”

The merc hurries away. Too much family drama.

___ _ _ _

Back in the closet, Luke’s lips brush against your jawline like it’s classified. His hands settle on your waist and stay there.

“You’re laughing,” he says against your skin.

“I’m not,” you say clearly giggling.

“You are. I can feel it,” he smiled.

You giggle anyway and swat at him,“You’re supposed to be cold and mysterious.”

“I’m a liar,” he murmurs, before kissing you again. The whole thing is reckless, warm, and a little awkward—especially when you both bump into a shelf of prototype drone parts and nearly knock an entire crate over.

CLANK.

You both freeze. Luke whispers, “We need to be more careful.”

You whisper, “You’re the one with your hands on my ass.”

“…Noted.”

After the butterfly flew away, Kieran was able to get back to work. He stares at a half-finished data schematic and suddenly drops his stylus. His hand flexes. His heart rate spikes.

“What now,” he mutters aloud. A flash of heat wavers through his body. A shiver of tension. Someone is kissing. He is kissing? No, not him. Not really.

“Luke,” he growls, eyes narrowing, “You absolute idiot.”

"Like its a suprise", Sylus low voice said suddenly, "I want you to finish your work properly, lets go get the two. This needs to end."

And he was right. Kieran hadn't been able to concentrate on his work for a fortnight because his brother's feelings and senses had been transferred to him. Strong ones at that. It practically put him out of action.

___ _ _ _

“Found them,” Sylus announces five minutes later, as he opens the closet door with the force of a judge issuing a death sentence.

You and Luke spring apart like guilty teenagers caught making out behind a gym—which, emotionally, is basically what this is. Sylus stares at the scene in front of him: Luke’s jacket half-off, your lipstick smeared, both of you wide-eyed like escapees from a romance drama.

“You know,” he says flatly, “I may be the leader of a semi-illegal black ops mercenary syndicate, but even I have standards. A closet, really???”

Luke brushes imaginary dust off his shirt. “We weren’t—”

“I KNOW WHAT YOU WERE DOING. I FELT IT THROUGH THE BOND, Luke. I had to stop working because you were ‘probably not being tortured.’” Kieran gestures with both hands, enraged, “Do you have any idea how awkward it is to get secondhand arousal from my own twin? This is emotional WARFARE.”

“Sorry,” you apologized sheepishly.

Sylus turns to you, eyes narrowed. “And now to you young Lady. I trusted you.”

“Wait, what?,” all exclaimed, turning to face Sylus.

He waves you off. “Not really. But still. I had higher hopes.”

“You didn’t have to feel it if you weren’t so nosy,” Luke turned now to his brother.

Kieran makes an exasperated noise that sounds like a dying engine,“You suppressed the bond, not shut it down. You can’t mute a fire alarm by shoving a sock in your ears!”

Luke raises an eyebrow,“That’s not how fire alarms work.”

Kieran groans into his hand,“You know what? Fine. Go ahead. Keep sneaking around like horny civilians on shore leave. I’ll just be here. Being the right hand to a cutthroat corporation. Babysitting my psychically-linked disaster of a brother who keep getting emotionally entangled with his co-worker.”

As he storms off, you and Luke exchange a look.

Luke shrugs, “So… back to the closet?”

“Let’s try the ventilation shafts this time,” you grin, “More plausible deniability.”

In the shadows of the base, Kieran sits in silence, eyes glowing faintly blue. He taps into the bond—just for a second—and feels the echo of your lips against Luke’s. Kieran’s jaw tightens,“…He’s going to get himself killed.”

But there’s a faint smile on his face.

___ _ _ _

Sylus kicked the door to HQ open with all the dramatics of a man juggling a galaxy's worth of secrets in one arm and a mysterious woman in the other.

“Alright,” he grunted, dragging her in by the wrist, “we've got a guest.”

The woman—MC, as she introduced herself—was cold-eyed, scarred, and strangely calm for someone who’d just been pulled out of a top-security Onychirus intel hunt. Her presence was charged. Not psychic. Not kinetic. But undeniably… known.

And Luke, standing across the command deck, barely noticed her. Because you were standing just beside her. You. Hair a little messy from recon. Cheeks flushed from the elevator ride. Laughing softly at something Sylus had muttered.

Luke’s jaw clenched. His heart rate spiked. He looked away, hard. Suppress it. Focus.

“...and this,” Sylus was saying, gesturing toward MC, “this is an intruder send by the hunters. Wanted to attend an auction but merely was desguised. Beginners mistake. But there are also some good news, the hunters know a lot. Maybe shes someone who knows how to sever and reestablish twin psych-links.”

Silence.

Luke’s head snapped up so fast Kieran looked over, alarmed.

“Sorry—what?,” Kieran asked, crossing his arms, stepping out of the shadow like a very irritated backup drive.

MC nodded slowly. “I, myself have a protocore in my body, therefore I read your neural sequencing. You’re "broadcasting" on an open shared frequency. Crude but stable. With the right focus node, it’s possible to turn the link off temporarily… and back on, without psychic recoil.”

Sylus blinked, “You're telling me these two could—what—toggle their brains like Bluetooth?”

MC just smiled,“Basically.”

Luke forgot how to breathe. MC handed Sylus something, “The calibration protocol’s inside. Use a neuro-sink, boost frequency buffering, and you’ll get privacy.”

Privacy.

Luke made a noise that was halfway between a cough and a desperate prayer.

Sylus didn’t even look up. “I swear to the void, if you two start dry-humping across my air vents the minute you get emotional autonomy, I’m going to jettison myself into space.”

And thats, how all of you spend the afternoon. You tested it. Neuro-sync chamber. Calm lighting. A quiet hum. MC guiding Kieran and Luke through mental alignment, then detachment.

Luke stared. He felt the link to his brother loosen. He stood up. Kieran blinked at the sudden action,“You good?”

Luke walked right past him. You were still in the hall, besides the little room MC, Kieran and Luke tried to disable the link, when Luke emerged, and it only took a look for everything to combust. He walked straight to the hall. Straight to you.

“Are you—?,” you began to question. And then he was on you. Mouth crushing against yours. Hands gripping your hips, pulling you into him like you were the only solid thing left in the universe. You gasped into his mouth. He groaned.

“Oh my stars—,” Kieran’s voice echoed from the comm system. “Were not fully detached.”

MC coughed politely in the background.

“Can they breathe?” she asked.

“They’re young. Let them burn it off,” Sylus said, sipping from his thermal flask,“They’ll pass out eventually.”

___ _ _ _

By the time you and Luke emerged in the dinner hall—clothes slightly rumpled, hair an arguable disaster—Sylus was reviewing MC’s data, waiting for dinner to be served and Kieran had fully committed to pretending you didn’t exist.

“Are you okay?” you asked him.

He scowled,“Your boyfriend’s psychic horniness just leaked through the backup link and I got a vision of a janitor’s closet that I wish I could unsee.”

Luke didn’t even pretend to be sorry. Sylus sighed deeply, not looking up from the display,“If you break anything while making out, you're both getting reassigned to waste-processing in a Nebulon outpost.”

You saluted. Luke smirked.

Luke had you. His head was clear. His brother wasn’t screaming. And teenage horny chaos reigned supreme.

[afroslacks]

My long list of requests for either or both smokestack twins

- stubborn reader

-quiet reader who defends herself

-reader who moves back from school

- recent times model who gets spoiled by one or both of them

-baker reader who made sweets for their mom before she passed

- younger reader who depends on one or both since her papa has passed

All requests could have smut or whatever you want to add thank youuuuu🩷

a/n: I don't think I've ever written for Stack. I hope I did a good job! Also, I like this so much I MIGHT make it into a sequel or series. idk anyways bye!

Model! reader x Sugar Daddy! Stack "Elias" Moore

You’re a top model mainly based in New York City, but you don’t mind traveling for a check. The bare minimum you’ll work for is $200,000, nothing lower. You’ve been featured in many high-profile magazines such as Vogue, Marie Claire, Harper’s Bazaar, and ID magazine, just to name a few.

Modeling has been your passion since the age of eighteen. Immediately after you graduated high school, you jumped headfirst into the career path, making a name for yourself. Currently, you’re on your treadmill in the penthouse gym when you receive a call from your manager, Giselle. The treadmill slows down to a light jog as your finger moves to answer the phone. “Hello gorgeous, how are you?” she asks with a chipper tone in her voice.

Giselle has always been willing to do whatever it took to get you in the door; she has done her best to propel your career forward. She understands especially how much harder it is for you to succeed as a Black model in this very white, Eurocentric, and nepotistic industry. Most of the time you have to know someone to make it in the door, and she was your somebody. Lightly panting, “I’m alright, just finishing a workout. What is the reason for your call?” The sound of a door closing could be heard from the other side of the door. A deep sigh escapes her lips. “You’ve got a job,” she confesses, but you know she’s holding something back, so you stop the treadmill and stand still. “Okay, what’s the job?” you push, wanting her to spit it out already. “Your special gentleman caller.” Giselle replies.

Your heart suddenly picks up at the mention of your special code name that you both use when referring to your secret life. Your manager has been your confidante regarding your sugar daddy situation, not because you wanted her to, but because the man made himself known. The man's name is Stack. After Giselle called one too many times when you were together, he got so sick of it that he called up an associate of his to give me access to your phone. Because he’ll be damned if he’s someone’s fool.

Recently you’ve been avoiding him because you’re working non-stop. The replies to his text messages don’t stop; it’s just when he mentions seeing you that things get tense when you decline. You curse before ordering Giselle. “Tell him I’m busy; he’ll understand,” hoping that’ll be the end of it. A slightly nervous chuckle can be heard. “Baby girl, I’ve tried; he isn’t taking no for an answer. He offered $12,000,000, and he said if you don’t, he’ll just clear your schedule anyway. I’m sorry.” She says he pisses you off because he can be crazy and demanding, like he doesn’t have a business to run. But always make time to get his dose of you, unfortunately. “This is some bullshit...when does he want to meet?” you ask, making your way out of the gym and going towards the elevator. “He said in two hours.” You shake your head, leaning against the wall, not ready to face him again. “Alright, I’ll be there. Thank you, Giselle.” Giselle ends the call with “I’ll let him know. Be safe and let me know if you need me, much love,” and then you hang up the phone. “Clingy ass bitch” slips out before you can stop yourself.

Two hours later you showed up, got dressed, and put on his favorite perfume. Stack texts your phone before you can walk out the door, keys in hand.

Leave the keys at home; you’re getting picked up.

Stack that. It's unnecessary; I can drive.

Don’t argue with me like you aren’t already in trouble for leaving me dry for the past two weeks.

I have to work, and you know that.

You don’t have to work, and I told you that.

I don’t mind taking care of you at all.

I don’t want to live that way; it’s not safe for me.

Well, now you’re going to live like this. Which is making time to come see me every week since you’re so damn busy. Now get downstairs; the driver is waiting.

At his attitude, your face twists into a scowl. “Okay, crybaby ass,” to nobody in particular after getting downstairs his usual driver Chancy is standing outside when he sees your familiar face; he smiles. “Hello, Miss, how have you been?” he greets, stepping closer to pull you into a fatherly hug.

All of Stack’s personal staff know exactly who you are; that’s how deep you are in with him. Your photos, whether magazine or personal, are hung up on his walls, your face is on his phone, and your name is on your accounts.

Stack will even show up to shows sitting in the front row just to see his pretty baby. “I’ve been hanging in there, Chancy.” After stepping back from one another, Chancy confesses, “He’s missed you like a madman; it’s been hard to ignore.” We staff members have done our best, but he really just wanted to see you.” You bite your lip as your mind races as you imagine what his staff members had to go through, possibly “Don’t make that face. He wasn’t crazy or mean; he was just not his usually loud self. He was full and short, that’s all.” Chancy says soothing your worries “Now let’s go; we can’t keep him waiting.”

The car ride was thirty minutes due to the New York City traffic, but once you arrived, you stared at the tall building, preparing yourself for the inevitable reunion. “Wish me luck,” and then you step out of the car and make your way upstairs.

As you ride on the elevator and look at your reflection, you wonder if it's even worth it anymore. What you had wasn’t serious when you started, but as you continued, it became a lot for you to maintain. It's difficult to focus on your career and also meet Stack's needs.

Those thoughts before and after, though, as the doors slide open, legs carry themselves down the hall until you make it to his place and you knock on the door. “Come in,” you hear him say, and the door is pushed open to be greeted with the sight for sore eyes. He sits there with his waves, earrings, cream-colored suit, and some dark liquor in his hand. “Look who it is,” the first thing that comes to mind when he sees you. “Finally got you to put a pause on work and come and see little old me.” He walks closer, and your heart beats fast because no matter how long it’s It's been just the sight of seeing him that makes you excited.

“Stack, I’ve told you I have to work, baby,” you explain, reaching out to place your manicured hands on his suit-covered chest, hoping to ease his anger, but he shakes his head, not liking the sound of your words. “Nuh-uh, baby, you come here when Daddy calls,” before taking another sip of his drink. You lean your forehead against his. “Stack, you have to respect that I’m my own woman, but I’ll always communicate with you.” You promise, holding his gaze as he looks at you with those beautiful brown eyes.

His eyes never stop following you. “We’ll discuss that later. Now that I’ve got you, your time is mine. Now go into the bedroom and go model the clothes I bought. Give me a show, baby,” he orders before breaking out of your hold. You stare at him for a moment before walking towards the bedroom.

“Don’t keep me waiting. I want to see every piece.” After throwing on most of the clothes, you spot a separate bag filled with lingerie. Your hand reaches in to pull out a lacy red set and a pair of red bottoms to match. Once you put it on, you make your way into the living room to see Stack had taken off his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt.

“Come here,” the words slip out of your lips. You slowly walk over to him before standing in front of him. Stack’s hand reaches for the thong, pulling on the material to test the stretch.

“That’s good, so these might not rip the next time I want to fuck you.” Both hands then slide up to the cups, breast massage them through the cups as you slowly feel yourself getting wet. “Look at you, getting wet already,” he cockily observes and chuckles at your flustered state with the sudden heat rising in your face.

“I shouldn’t even be touching you right now since you were too busy to see me.” His hands start roughly squeezing your breast, causing a moan to slip through your lips. “Elias, please,” you beg softly. “Nah, don’t use my name now,” he taunts, enjoying your desperate state. His large hand then slides up to your neck, getting a firm grip on your throat, pulling you closer. “Now say you’re going to make time for me whenever I say,” he orders. Your lips press together at the refusal to say the words. He sits there, waiting for you to come to your senses, but you decide to be bold.

His other hand slides into your panties; his index and middle fingers find the entrance of your lips, slowly sliding in, cursing pants to escape your lips as you close your eyes in bliss. His fingers move, curling them inside your tight heat as he watches you enjoy yourself. His finger then finds your sweet spot. “Oh!” you exclaim, trying to stay standing with your wobbly legs.

“Say it,” he orders again, knowing that you’re getting close. Your moans fill the living room as your hands find his broad shoulder to brace yourself so you won't fall.

His fingers then separate for a second just to fit your pearl between the two, and he continues his movement, being mindful of your center. “You gonna say it, or I’m not gonna let you come?” moans escape your lips in protest, not wanting the pleasure to stop.

Your legs continue to wobble as they start to give out. His hand escapes your panties before he pulls you onto his knee, then he slides right back in. As your stomach starts to get tighter and you get close, he stops. “Elias!” you exclaim in frustration. He then pulls you back so you’ll make eye contact. “Girl, you better say it like you mean it.” For the last time, he reinserts his fingers, resuming his motion as you get closer again. “I—” you are cut off by a moan. “You what? Keep talking,” he orders, looking at you with a hard glare. “I promise when you call, I’ll be there.” You rush out, trying to chase your high, and then you start to come. “You better,” the words are said in your ear as you come down.

[denial-permanente]

Hello Mrs Edge and Tom. I don't have an account here so I'm using my husband's. I am the "ebony goddess wife" of KC. You posted his message here a few weeks ago.

I want to echo what he said about your blog being so helpful to me (to both of us really). When he showed me this chastity stuff I was turned off by just about everything I saw and I really did not want to think about my husband as a sissy or abused or anything like that. I have read a lot of your answers to questions and I love how you have made chastity about your husband's devotion and not just some kinky sex thing. That is where I am hoping to bring our marriage. Also I am guessing it must be Tom who picks out the pictures but it really has been nice to see images of regular looking black women (and Asian, Indian, etc) and not images that look like cartoons. They help me feel more comfortable about seeing myself the way my husband sees me.

I did want to comment about the crazy changes that have been happening to me for the past few years. I go from feeling cold to getting hot flashes that make me want to tear off my clothes and not in a good way. And I don't "feel like myself" anymore. I want to be intimate with my husband but sometimes I can't even stand the thought of having sex.

I go from feeling guilty for keeping him locked to thinking that if I feel this bad then maybe he should too! lol I've read the questions from other women in "no penetration" marriages. I had no idea that this was a thing until recently but now I understand why. The few times I have tried are just uncomfortable and don't really do anything for me for some reason.

Sometimes when I feel like an orgasm would make me feel better I do make him worship my pussy. It also helps to keep him interested which helps make me feel less guilty about leaving him locked up all the time. I also remind him that he asked for this but I have to admit that he rarely complains.

I am happy to see that you still get pleasure from PIV and you still allow your husband to get pleasure from intercourse although I'm not sure how much pleasure he gets if he has to wear a strap on lol. But I am seriously wondering if I will ever feel like having sex again - I mean intercourse - with my husband. If you have any advice on getting through this I think it would be helpful to a lot of us! lol

Thank you for following up on your husband's post. I totally understand what you mean by you "don't feel like yourself." My change came a bit earlier than most, and it was several years of hot flashes, night sweats, cold spells, and crazy appetite swings. Nothing felt right, and I started gaining weight. My doctor says that my metabolism slowed way down, I was tired, and the last thing I wanted was my husband bothering me for intimate time. When you are not comfortable in your own skin it's just so hard to relax and enjoy intimacy.

It really did take several years for me to get past the perimenopause and have things start settling down. Yes, my husband was locked up for most of it, not that he really needed to be because sex just was not on the table (or anywhere else 😆) anyway. I don't want to say that he was "locked and forgotten" but honestly he might as well have been. A few times I did offer that he just unlock the cage and take it off, more out of sympathy or pity or something. To his credit he remained caged on his own.

When I finally started feeling better, we did get back to intercourse and foxing. Fortunately I did not get the vaginal pain that so many women get after menopause. However, things were definitely different. My lubrication was very thin, and I would get sore more easily. We went through different lubes (and now we us organic coconut butter from Trader Joes lol). Oh, and I'm a lot more prone to UTIs. I used to think it was the vixskin, but boiling and disinfecting didn't help. My gyno told me that it was a common condition, and she gave me some antibiotics which I take a dose of whenever we have sex.

Now, if you are not enjoying intercourse and your gyno can't make any suggestions, it's okay. You already keep your husband locked, so he has already learned... or is learning... how to manage his own libido and how to turn his energy into pleasing you instead of worrying about his own orgasm. This is why I tell women who message me that they do not need to feel guilty about this change in your sex life. He asked for this... to be locked and for you to take charge. This is one of those things that happen in life that you have no control over, so all you can do is control how you deal with the situation.

I am learning that there are more "no penetration" marriages than I ever would have guessed, and while a lot of them are done out of some kind of kinky game, some of them, like yours are more because Mother Nature was not kind. If this is the way you are leaning, please remember that your husband wants all the best for you. You can still reward him with your hands or by letting him rub himself on you (he must have a favorite place lol), and then lock him back up. Or you can use a vibrator to help take the pressure off of him. If you have read some of the other women's stories that have written in, some men find the idea of being denied penetration to be a turn on.

Finally, please keep an open mind. You may come out of this once again being able to enjoy intercourse, at least, when you start feeling somewhat normal... or rather, when all these things that are happening start settling down. And there are a lot of resources and articles for you to check online. You may not feel better about it but at least you'll know that you are not alone. Best of luck hon and let me know how you're doing.

[deadmercenaryslover]

ok maybe you know. WHAT is going on with ol istys nobleman status? some stuff indicates he was always one and other that sigismund gave him a title after he saved his ass. What Is The Truth?

Oof, I definitely wish I knew that, because I could really use the information for fic-writing purposes, but unfortunately, I don’t. I suppose no one knows the whole truth, except maybe some lorekeeper at Warhorse, assuming they have one.

That said, there are a few in-game hints that could be used if someone wants to form their own headcanons.

Here are some of the tidbits I’ve used while shaping my personal take on Ištván’s background for the fic I’m currently writing, probably in a fairly random order. Just keep in mind that I’m going to veer pretty heavily into headcanon territory here, and I’m not claiming any of this is canon. Just some random thoughts put together.

Thanks for asking, though! 🖤 I just love to yap about Ištván and KCD in general, I’m just usually a bit too shy to share my thoughts unprompted.

(It's going to be a pretty long post, so I'm going to put the whole thing under a cut.)

So, what we do know for certain is that Ištván was born in Banat, his parents were killed by the Turks, and his father had a fortress, which somewhat implies that Ištván was originally highborn.

I think this is where we have a gap we can fill with whatever we want and veer deep into headcanon territory, since he trails off and never finishes the sentence. Personally, I feel like it's quite heavily implied that whatever happened to him after his family was slain and his home destroyed must have been deeply traumatizing for him. I know the devşirme theory is quite popular, though I believe becoming a war captive and ending up in regular slavery is just as plausible an option.

I don’t know if it’s just me, though probably not based on what I’ve seen, but I get the feeling that Ištván is kind of dancing around the issue here, despite usually being all about tough talk. To me, that suggests there's deep trauma behind it, likely connected to sexual abuse.

I also believe that what Henry says to him, "You pretend to be cruel, but you take good care of Erik. Someone must have really hurt you, am I right?" also points in that direction.

Another thing we know for certain is that, at some point, he fought the Turks, as we hear from both Ištván himself and Erik (in KCD1), and that he also fought in the Battle of Nicopolis in 1396. There's still a lot left open to individual interpretation, but I think one possible reading is that the events at Nicopolis led to Ištván, who might’ve been just an ordinary mercenary back then, becoming personally acquainted with Sigismund.

I imagine it's also possible that Sigismund rewarded him for his service by elevating him to the nobility, despite the battle itself ending in disaster. Saving your king’s life has to count for something, right?

I think this bit is also interesting to take into account. More often than not, Ištván seems to look for connections between himself and Henry, but here he draws a rare distinction. The way I see it, this doesn't necessarily contradict the possibility of Ištván being noble by birth. I could see it implying that he simply lost that privilege at some point in his life, likely when his family was slain and his home destroyed.

I imagine noble blood doesn't count for much when you are all alone and have lost everything. With his family gone, and the possibility of him being taken into the Ottoman Empire and kept there for some time, would he even have had any way to prove he was of noble origin? Even if he had surviving relatives, they might not recognize him after so many years and could be inclined to think he was just some impostor trying to get his hands on family wealth or something.

I don't know, just some food for thought.

And then there's this small detail. I just find it interesting how he says "the noblemen," not "we noblemen." Again, we can't be sure whether he's simply trying to influence Henry by highlighting their supposed similarities, or whether he genuinely relates to Henry here, even though he's a nobleman himself. It could just as well be both, I suppose. This doesn't have to mean anything, but I wanted to include it because it supports my personal interpretation that Ištván might personally not relate much to those nobles who have led easier lives than he likely has.

And from there, we come to another aspect I’ve been thinking about lately, one that’ll probably need its own post at some point: taking a sociolinguistic approach to Ištván’s background. I don’t have the screenshots at hand to support my theory yet, but it seems to me that he can switch between appearing as a rough mercenary and an eloquent nobleman, depending on what the situation calls for (and yet, he's often being clocked for this, too.) The clearest example of this, I think, is the way he code-switches during the prison scene in Nebakov while speaking with Sir Jaromier.

This doesn’t have to mean anything in particular, either. We could just draw a parallel between Ištván and, say, the Dry Devil and leave it at that, but as a language nerd, it’s just something that’s caught my attention. If anyone’s interested, I could ramble some more about it.

[prettiest-bloopsy]

“𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎 ︀&̶ 𝒯𝒽ℯ 𝒜𝒻𝓉ℯ𝓇 𝒫𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓎“

Pairings: Nerd Armin x black reader

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(Not my art, credit to the artists)

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(Content Warning: 18+ Minors DNI, NSFW, Reader is crossfaded, Armin is drunk, Armin is a virgin. Armin is a bit possessive, especially when he's drunk. Unprotected piv sex. Fingering and oral F receiving. Armin with tongue piercing.)

Summary: Armin and Reader are drunk at a college party, and Armin just can't take being patient. The reader has a spine tat, and she has a few arm tats.

NOTE: I am so sorry this took so long, I was focused on passing Regents and school, which are thankfully both over now so I bring you the next part enjoy (;

 Word count: 3.7k

Part 1 here

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Recap:

Trusting that Armin had good reason to pull you away from the party, you follow him, nearly stumbling. “Armin, what are yo-” You're cut off when Armin’s lips come crashing against yours as if your lips were something he was deprived of, a muffled whine is slipping past your lips, and you can't tell if it's the weed, the alcohol, or Armin that is making your knees go weak, hell it was probably all three.

Armin pulls away for a second to speak, “I need you, I need you so bad, and you, you have no clue.” Before he can say any more, you kiss him again, one hand in his hair, and the other on his shoulder for some sort of stability as you deepen the kiss. Armin didn't know what to do with his hands, but he finally settled them on your hips, thumbing circles into the exposed skin, as he slid his tongue across your lip, making you gasp before pulling away, the two of you breathing heavily. “Y-You have your tongue pierced!?” 

Shock and arousal dripping from your voice like sweet honey, it was intoxicating, and it was making Armin hot, making him needy, the alcohol was proving to be very strong in his system, along with the scent of you was not helping with how filthy his mind was at the moment, he was hard, leaking in his boxers. He didn’t process your original question but instead began apologizing.

He was red in the face, as he does, having realized his actions ”I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what took over m-.”  “I didn't ask for an apology, Armin. I asked if you had your tongue pierced.” Caught off guard, Armin nods slowly, “Lemme see.” Hesitant but complying, Armin sticks his tongue out to show you the silver ball on his tongue, “Have you… ever, ya’know?” immediately knowing what you meant by that, he shakes his head no. “Yes or No, Armin?” “No, n-never.”

End of Recap

“You wanna…try?” Your eyes stare into his as you ask and he was sucked in, as if you had stolen his soul simply by looking him in the eyes. “O-Oh… On you?” His fingers fiddle with the hem of his shirt, the tip of his ears, and his face, red.

“Who else but me? I am the one asking, aren’t I? Unless you were thinking Casper the ghost,” You're giggling at your own words, but Armin… Armin didn't even process anything you had said after you said that “you're the one asking” he could feel the blood rush to his cock and the words wrapping around his brain, he was hard, undeniably so. Seconds that felt like hours go by before Armin crashes his lips back onto yours, his tongue exploring your mouth, and the taste of the alcohol on his tongue is pleasant.

 The next thing you know, you and Armin are stumbling into some bedroom, and without even fully acknowledging it, your bare back is pressed against the coolness of the door. Armin’s lips part from yours, instead gliding them down your jaw till his tongue can wet the expanse of your neck.

Your skin was- burning hot... as if you had just stepped off the sun. Armin, on the other hand, was… just as bad as you. His face was red and hot, his glasses fogged, and though the liquor was helping his courage, he still couldn't help but think, even just a tiny bit. Knowing him. So, when he reached cautiously to untie your top, he asked, still red in the face, “Is this alright?” you couldn't help the small laugh that slipped past your lips. “Yes, it's perfect, Min, just keep going.” Your laugh lingered in his brain as you spoke. Your voice had sent shivers down his spine for the nth time that night, and he was utterly entranced by you.

Not wasting a second longer, Armin has your shirt untied and tossed somewhere in the unfamiliar room, his mouth back sucking hickeys on your neck and gradually trailing his way down to your perked nipple. Innocent blue eyes lazily gazing up at you as he does, but the cloud of pure, filthy hunger behind them was making you throb. 

His other hand fumbles as he pushes your skirt up, your panties pushed to the side, as his careful finger presses circles against your clit “Oou shit- Min.” his piercing cool against your nipple as his tongue swirled the brown bud.

“Min.. keep going, more..ahh..please.” Your breath staggering as he hums, acknowledging your request.

Mouth moving away from your sensitive nipple, he kisses and licks his way down your sternum and the expanse of your belly, kissing right below your belly button before he comes back up to kiss your lips, his fingers making their way back to your pussy. “You have no idea how long I've wanted to do this.” 

His fingers grazed over your clit before 2 of them pressed into your cunt, immediately curling into your g-spot “No idea how long i've wanted to show you” Your legs tensed up and your breath was caught in your throat. His fingers were too good, too precise, like he had done this a million times before, and his words were making you drip down his fingers.

“Aahh- Armin- M’close.” The combination of intoxicants in your bloodstream and Armin’s fingers relentlessly pressing against that sensitive spot were making your brain cloudy, and your orgasm had neared a little sooner than you had expected.  His lips were back on yours, and his hand had shifted to rub your clit with his palm, your moans tried to slip past your lips but they were sucked in by Armin’s mouth on yours.

Your back arched, and your legs went weak as you came hard on his fingers, barely able to keep yourself standing if Armin didn't have you pressed against the door. “Fu-Fuck Mi-” “Get on the bed, have to taste you”

You didn’t even get to start talking for real, but you're not complaining because, without a second thought, you're on the bed waiting for him to follow suit.

He was eyeing you with filthy lust in his eyes as he walked stalked over to you. Armin practically lunged at you, caging you in between him and the bed as his mouth trailed down your torso again, kissing his way down to your thighs, and finally he planted a sloppy kiss onto your clit, making you jolt.

Still sensitive from the orgasm you just had, your legs tense ever so slightly. Trying to close together. “Relax, baby, I’m just giving you a demonstration of my tongue piercing.” “Exactly like you asked, remember?” His tone was smug. Reminding. You asked him to eat your pussy…

Without another word Armin has his tongue swirling around your clit, his hand has a good grip on your thigh as he looks up at you as he flattens his tongue against your clit making your thighs clench “O-ouh god…” As if to pray to whatever god above that you don’t cum on the spot, still sensitive. You know the moment the piercing ball on his tongue presses against your clit that you're in for a long night, your breath is caught in your throat.

Laughing cockily at your reaction he’s breaking away from your sensitive bud of nerves. His break from your clit used to push you skirt above your hips and your panties now dangling from your ankle, you didn’t have the chance to ask Armin to take off your heels as your thighs rest on his shoulders and his tongue is back circling your clit and the silver ball pressing against it deliciously. “Fu-Fuck Armin,- love” his glasses are fogged and his face flushed as he asks. “Is th-this good, baby?” “Is this how you-... wanted me” he was asking with such a teasing tone in his voice, it was driving you crazy, but it was driving your pretty pussy crazier and he knew loved that he was driving you crazy.

For someone who said he had never done this before, he had you seeing stars, your eyes brimming with tears, threatening to ruin your pretty eye makeup. The music was blasting outside the room, but you were deaf to it, too focused on the way Armin’s tongue occasionally switched places with his fingers. It was too good.

As much as you were trying to hold out for a little longer, it was getting hard, your legs were quivering, and you didn't know how much longer you could last, “Ahh, M-Min, m’close… so close.” "Already baby" "Mmhm" Armin was relentless, as he’s subconsciously rubbing his clothed cock against the bed, his pleasure consciously disregarded but his body acting on its own, too busy tongue deep in your cunt to notice his body moving without his knowledge.

“Fuck, you taste so good” And just like that your gushing, something about how he cursed had you trembling, the aggression and need behind it was mind numbing, it was wrapping around your brain and yet Armin kept going, his tongue flat on your clit as he pressed the pad of his fingers on your g-spot “Aaahhh…A-Armin, wa-wait…” You're pushing his head, yet pulling his hair to bring him closer to your pussy, actions conflicted, yet Armin continues his movement for a moment longer before he pulls away, letting his tongue, piercing and all, linger a little longer on your clit as he looks up at you, his glasses fogged, his face flushed and his chin and nose wet.

“God…” Your breath ragged as Armin practically climbs up the bed, pinning you between his arms, his mouth back on yours so you can taste your arousal on his tongue, as much as he claimed he was a virgin, he sure wasn’t acting like one, his lips were soft, but he was movements swift and calculated as he pressed his clothed cock against your bare cunt and kissed down your chest. “You're so pretty, all for me.”

“Can I?” Nearly, just nearly, back to his bashful, respectful manner despite his drunken state as the two of you eye the bulge in his pants. “Mhm” “Yes or No, use your words (Name), I know you can, with the way you were talking to Reiner, was it?” His words were sudden, completely unexpected, he was visibly Jealous now, and it made your pussy clench around nothing.

 “Yes,” “Yes, that's his name? or Yes, you want me to fuck you? Words, my love.” His voice was raspy. Needy. His head was lolled to the side as he looked you in the eyes, waiting for an answer. “Armin.. Fuck me.” Your voice is breathy as you spoke, but in mere seconds, his pants are off, leaving him in his boxers and shirt, gentle hands smoothing over the length of your hips and tummy, hands slowly reaching their way up to cup your breasts, and his fingers pinching your nipples. 

“Armin take this off” Your reaching for the hem of his shirt, lifting it and rubbing your hands down his v-line and palming his cock through his boxers, the stain.. of precum was no longer just a stain it was damn near a puddle and you just couldn't help yourself. 

So without a second thought. like you had any of those at the moment anyways. your reaching your hand into his boxers while he pulls his shirt off, your hand stroking the length of his cock getting a good grasp at how big he was, to which he was fairly big not to thick but not too slim and about a good 6 ½ to 7 inches long, simply from what you could feel.

Armin was hunched over you now, his chest heaving as you stroked him, “Y-you, auah- ya’done baby” your looking up at him with your pretty brown eyes, as he looks at you with a dark and needy look on his face as he looks at your makeup slightly ruined and he’s slowly losing his last bit of self control, you were like a drug and he was happily addicted.

 His hand grabs hold of your wrists and pushes them above your head making you lay back down, he's got you pinned to the bed and you finally get to rack yours eyes down his surprisingly built body, “You can't tease me like that baby, I’ve been too patient to cum that fast without even being inside you…” 

Armin’s mouth on your collar… Hungry, biting and sucking marks into the sensitive skin on your neck, he knows he did this a little more improperly than he’d have originally wanted, but who was he to deny you? His mouth was hot against your skin, and it was making you nearly dizzy, as his mouth caught a hardened nipple, tongue swirling around it, making your heart skip a beat. “Min.. I need you, enough playing around.” Not needing to hear another word before his boxers are pulled down just enough for him to slide his cock free from the confinements.

His tip is near red. Angry even, but the rest of him is pretty. Toned and gentle. Armin practically groans when the cool air of the room hits his precum-smeared tip. He’d been so hard for a while now, and the realization was just hitting him. “C-Condom?” His voice was hoarse and choked as he asked. 

“Shit…  no ju-just keep going” His breath against your neck, which he had buried his face in marking it some more.

His hands had a tight grip on your hips as he pulled you down the bed, his cock laying perfectly on the fat of your tummy. “I’m gonna fuck you so good your pussy won't be able to forget me” His words echoed through your body as he pressed his cock against your sensitive clit. An action he did simply to tease you before he gently presses the tip of his cock into your cunt.

You tensed ever so slightly and he was quick to relive that tension, a thumb massaging your clit while he continued to push himself in inch by inch. As soon as he grazed past that spongy spot your pussy clenched around him like your life depended on it and that as all he needed to lose his last bit of self control, a switch in his brain was flipped, and you swore you saw the restraint leave his body. If you didn't see it, you were sure about to feel it.

“God, I could cum right now, your pussy pulls me in s-so nicely.” “Wou-Wouldn’t be able to help myself” "Fill you aaha s-so nicely wi-with my cum-" The thought of him dripping from your cunt clouding your brain as he continues to speak “Got-Gotta show that brawly, brainless fu-fucker what he won’t have” He’s possesive, perhaps jealous as his thrusts get more precise, he’s pushed your leg up just enough to get a perfect angle as his tip continuously abusing your sweet spot.

“See-seems, like ur jealous… hmm” “Just don't like people trying to touch what's mine.” Quiet as Armin was, his mouth was filthy, mind melting even, he had a way with words, and his tongue, and his words were currently fucking your brain, or maybe it was how deeply he was fucking your pussy that had your mind and body turned to putty in his hands, either way you were seeing stars. 

He was bottoming out and you had to close your eyes to prevent them from rolling back, your head fuzzy and your pussy quivering. “Look- so pretty, taking me so well,”  “Wish you could see me di-disappear inside your pussy, so-so  good” Your nails dig into his shoulders, leaving crescent shaped indents in his skin.

He’s breathing heavily, a choked gasp slipping from his lips as he feels the pain of you scratching your nails along his back, pretty red scratches line the course of his back. Armin was close, and he could feel it hurdling towards him, he had practically edged himself when he was grinding against the bed earlier, and he was so close to cumming then that the build up was coming back what felt like ten times harder than it had originally. He was getting sensitive, the warmth and clench of your cunt had him weak, not to mention the sight he had before him. You.

His thrusts were getting harsh, and your other leg was quickly folded under his weight as he reached new depths of your pussy, depths you hadn't even known could be hit. It was no point in trying not to mess up your makeup now, seeing as the liner and eyeshadow you had on your waterline was smudged and slowly but surely running down the sides of your face. 

He had plenty of wet dreams about having you like this, and seeing you lying on the bed under him like this was doing crazy things to his brain. “Fu-fuck y-your so pretty like this-” His forehead pressed against yours as he kept his pace. “So pretty for me- aah-and taking me so deep- sh-shit” 

His words were pushing you over the edge while the tip of his cock kissed your g-spot, your mind was blank, yet too aware, you could swear you could feel every vein and twitch of his dick.

Armin's thrusts were getting sloppy yet they still felt so calculated, as if he had already mapped out the inside of your pussy with his cock when the second he had slid it in, his hands had a vice grip on the sheets but that just didn’t feel good enough to him, he had to have his hands touching you, so without a second to process his own movements, or thoughts, he’s got a hand wrapped nicely around your throat, thumb caressing the side, and not applying to much pressure as you go wide eyed.

Not having expected it from Armin, but not complaining, your brain was fuzzy, pussy gripping him like a vice and your back arched into him.

Your legs were going weak, and your voice was a little strained from the onslaught of screaming and moaning of his name, and in an attempt to tell him you were cumming the only thing that flys past your pretty lips is a stifled moan, your nails digging into his back “Fuck- I know baby, I- know.. Just- hold it- a’lil longer… pl-please” his voice stutters and his hips jerk as he holds out a little longer to prolong your pleasure.

He was making the both of you overly sensitive, with every thrust of his hips he was grinding his pelvis perfectly against your clit and the action had you turned to mush.

Armin is trying to ignore the pain of your nails in his back, but also trying to ignore how it's pushing him closer and closer to cumming. His hips are practically moving on their own, runting and slapping against the plush of your thighs. “m’gonna cum… not gonna last- longer” with one simple word your head is thrown back, your orgasm not able to be held back any longer. “Wh-Where… ahhg- god -fuck- baby” “I-Inside Min” your both fumbling over your words as your legs lock around Armin's waist and he spills rope after rope of cum into your pussy.

“Ar-Arminn..- fuck” your voice is hoarse and loud as you scream his name your walls clench around his dick milking him for every drop of cum he could give. The throb and twitch of his cock in your pussy making you gush around him and push some of him out, but he’s quick to push his cock back into your gooey cunt, muffling your whine as he kisses your lips Possessively. Lovingly.

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“Yo, where’d (Name) and Armin go? I remember Armin storming off into the crowd, but I haven't seen him since then, and (Name) was talking to that buff blonde dude over there, but now he’s standing there by himself.” Sasha asks the group as she sits down, having come back from across the room with snacks. “I don’t but if their both gone they’ve GOT to be fucking or something cause we’ve all been here and haven’t seen either of them since Armin mysteriously stormed off,” Connie says with a snorty laugh, “We should go look for th-” Jean adds “Look for who” “OUH, yall NASTY motherfuckers” Connie yells with a laugh that sounds like he can’t breath “Armin YOU? Did THAT to her?” Sasha asks with wide eyes as she stares daggers into every purplish red hickey on your brown skin from your neck, and even down to your chest.

“I-um yea…” Armin answers red in the face as he scratches the back of his neck. “Y'all talking about what he did? Look at Armin’s neck (Name), must be a vampire with the way she marked him.” Mikasa says, having wanted to add her comment.

“Oh, hush, y'all are so nosy.” “We're not nosy, y'all came out here with hickeys on each other's necks after being gone for like 2 hours,” Jean interjects. "It was not 2 hours" you say rolling your eyes. “Is that why you went storming off earlier, Armin?” Connie says, “Ouhhh I seee, Armin was jealous of that buff guy Reiner talking to (Name),” Sasha teases laughing. “Enough with this topic, I could use another drink.” “I bet you could (Name).” Connie laughs.

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Thanks for reading(¯ ³¯)♡

Feel free to leave feedback its always welcomed