#it was the fact that they KNEW she was trying to be better and instead of explaining the situation and asking if it was okay..

[bluewxrld07]

Pins and Needles

Lando X Bff!Fewtrell!Reader

Summary: Y/N doesn't know where she and Lando stand anymore. Their once-tight friendship soon started to tear at the seams.

Warning(s): just pure angst, Lando being toxic (sorry y'all), making out, Charles Leclerc incoming, depression, lack of self-worth

A/N : I can't help myself y'all ok 🥲 This one is gonna hurt, I'm sorry but also not sorry. Enjoy 🙂 (Written and inspired by Nessa Barrett's song Pins and Needles)

Hand on the stove, I barely feel it

And when I let go, I'm already healing

This was not how it was supposed to go.

How it was supposed to wind up.

Y/N didn't even know how she got herself into this situation.

Deep down, she knew exactly how she got herself into this situation, she just didn't want to admit to it.

It started when one drunk night at the club in Monaco led to her becoming tangled up in her best friend's sheets, whispering sweet nothings to one another. The sly touches as the sun crept through the blackout curtains the next morning.

That was when their situation bloomed. Things had become messier between Lando and Y/N.

Little did Y/N realize just how deep she had fallen for the man she had known almost her entire life. He was comfortable. Familiar. Trustworthy.

At the start.

Things at the beginning were smooth. Nothing but absolute lust, addiction, and hunger. It rose and rose, some moments almot becoming reckless.

They couldn't keep their hands off one another. From sneaking around the paddock, to the club bathrooms, to the bedroom next door to Max's. It became reckless. Animals in heat. The craving was insatiable.

The pair didn't know if the sneaking around made them this way, or the fact that it was supposed to be a forbidden relationship. Max would've had Lando's head. He'd have six feet under the ground.

She didn't mean to fall more in love with the boy. She thought it would be harmless. Her feelings would subside. Not do the complete opposite and skyrocket. The way he had begun to treat their little situationship as if they were together is what got her the most.

He made her feel like she was the only one.

Till he slowly became more sloppy. Bailing out on plans more often, leaving her high and dry while saying something came up. The distance became clearer. It was the late-night visits that were only making a daily appearance. No talking, just becoming tangled in the bedsheets.

Their friendship had begun to fade out, only turning into meaningless sex. At least that's what she believed.

She never understood why. What had she done for him to pull away slowly? What was she missing?

Y/N couldn't tell anyone, as she didn't have anyone she told about it. Not trusting a single soul to keep it quiet if things got tricky. Especially not when Max had no idea of what was happening behind closed doors.

When he began to ask why her mood had become more glum, as if she had almost faded. She just used the excuse of lack of sleep, or was just having one of those days.

He didn't question it, only gave her a lingering look, then didn't push further. He knew better.

It wasn't long till she found out why. Why Lando pulled away from her, let their friendship fade out, as well as their late night hookups.

They say your name, I don't even hear it

You dug your own grave, and nobody's grieving

The articles all read and show him with a new girl, a blonde model and actress. She was pretty. His type, too. He looked happy, a genuine smile on his lips as he looked at her.

That's when she noticed the way her chest tightened, crashed in on itself.

He had been seeing this girl, Magui, she thinks her name was, without saying a thing to her. She thought they were close enough that he would've been honest. He has never lied to her. In all the years she had known him, it wasn't something he did.

She remembered when she found out, she sat there trying to figure out what to say to him. Her first message sounded angry. Hurt, betrayed, lost, and confused.

Instead, she clicked the power button off, thinking it was best to not say a word. Instead, she let it fade away. Let him fade away.

There had been a day Y/N was at her brother's, sitting on the barstool while he cooked food with Pietra.

"Is she nice?" she asks, hinting at Lando's new girl. Max looked at her with an unsure gaze, shrugging his shoulders.

"From what I can tell, yeah," he answers. "Still a bit skeptical about her, though. About her past, mainly. Everything is still unclear about what happened between her and Luisna. Lando won't really talk about it."

She nods, deciding not to push any further, picking at the food on her plate.

"Have you heard from him lately?" Pietra asks this time. "I haven't seen you two around one another lately. Usually it's hard to pull you both away from the other," she tries to joke. Max looked back at his sister with just as curious of a look.

"You two haven't been talking?" he asks, Y/N just shrugs.

"Not really," she admits. "Always says something's come up. It's fine, I'm not gonna push it. He's happy."

Max looks at her with a little bit of shock on his face. "You two have been close for years. Closer than him and me, why would he just push you away?"

Y/N knew the real answer to it, but she couldn't give that away. As she knew Max would lose his shit if he knew. Lando would be lucky to leave the brawl with a head on his shoulders if Max found out.

So instead, the girl just shrugs. "Don't know. Just assumed maybe he doesn't want to make things look weird with his new girl. Probably doesn't want her to think anything else."

Max scoffs playfully at that, pouring his eggs onto his own plate. "Trust me, if there was more, I would've known. She wouldn't have had anything to worry about. He'd have a lot more to deal with if that were the case."

She just stays silent, Pietra sensing the awkwardness in the room, deciding to change the subject.

Shot my heart with Novacane

Ice-cold, cut off my blood flow

It had turned into hearing from Lando every other week, and maybe seeing him when he came to help with collabs for Quadrant. When the pair would be streaming with the other streamers, he wouldn't so much as acknowledge her in the chat.

It would be short answers if anything.

Her chest burned every time she made eye contact with him, the gazes between the pair always having something between them. Something she couldn't quite explain.

It wasn't until she had been dragged out to a race day with Max and P, that she could feel the need to hide away in a corner for the rest of her life.

She kept her distance whenever Lando would come around, the boy not missing the way she would excuse herself when he came by.

He should've known.

He caused the tension between them. He pulled back when he only wanted to get closer to her.

He found another girl while in denial of how deeply in love he was with his homeboy's sister, and his best friend. Magui was his way out. His escape from his reality. Even if it wasn't the right way.

He had to let Y/N go, even if it meant he couldn't be in her life anymore.

At least that's what he told himself.

You think you're important,, boy, I've got bad news

You're mean and you're boring, they'll all forget you

Y/N had been standing over by the motorhomes, sipping on the coffee in her hand, when she felt someone bump into her back. The sip had turned into a mess, dripping down onto her white tube top she wore on the hot day.

She turned around to meet the eyes of a familiar Monégasque man, who looked at her in horror. "Shit, Y/N I am so sorry," he nervously chuckles, his eyes seeing the new stain on her top. "I should've been more careful. I was so caught up in the conversation I-"

"Charles," she giggles, making him look at her. "It's okay. At least it wasn't a hot coffee, yeah?"

He snorts while rubbing the back of his neck. "Now that I definitely would've never heard the end of."

She chuckles. "You still won't hear the end of this one," she jokes, making him give her a genuine smile before chuckling back at her. He motions to her shirt.

"At least lemme help get you a new top? I can't bear the thought of you having to be stuck with explaining how the stain came about."

"Ahhh I see you want to protect your perfect image, I suppose?" she tuts playfully, making him widen his eyes.

"What? No I meant like it would probably be annoying having to say the story a thousand times, or you could get weird looks from people, or-"

"Oh my goodness, Charles! I'm joking," she laughs while putting her hands on his shoulders. She watches him visibly relax at her touch and her words, rubbing his hand over his face.

"Sorry, I just," he chuckles breathlessly. "You make me nervous, is all."

She raises her brows, a small smirk on her lips. "Oh, I do now?"

He rolls his eyes with a groan. "I'm never gonna hear the end of this."

She hums. "I didn't know I made the famous Ferrari driver nervous," she jokes while crossing her arms and giving him a knowing look.

His eyes flicker down from her eyes to her lips for a split second, then he smiles at her. "A little."

"A little?"

He purses his lips. "Okay a bit more than a little."

She laughs at his little confession, Charles pinching her waist as he pulls her with him. "You can give me shit later," he laughs. "But right now let's go get you changed into something that doesn't have a stain on it."

She lets him drag her along to the Ferrari paddock, in search of Rebecca and Carlos, knowing the WAG always had a backup set of clothing on her when need be.

Once Charles had found them, he explained the situation, watching as Rebecca lit up and happily said she'd lend a helpful hand.

Y/N followed the girl, keeping up the small talk as they made their way to the Ferrari motorhome, where Rebecca had a cute top waiting for Y/N.

She knew she wouldn't hear the end of it, the color of the top being a bright Ferrari red. It was a one-shoulder cropped tank top, the color sitting beautifully on her skin. Rebecca gave her a low whistle, causing Y/N to chuckle and roll her eyes.

"Red looks so good on you," she says, making Y/N shrug. Rebecca gives her a knowing look, but says nothing as the pair made their way back to the paddock.

Charles did a double take when she returned, his eyes taking in the red top that adorned her skin.

He smiled as he walked up to her. "Red is your color I think," he says, making her roll her eyes.

"Rebecca said the same thing," she answers, watching him nod. "She's never wrong."

Y/N thanks Rebecca one more time, alongside a hug. "Think about it," Rebecca whispers into the girl's ear before pulling away with a wink.

Charles then walks Y/N back over to the McLaren paddock where her brother and P sat. Max frowned at his sister. "I've been looking for you. Where did you run off to?" his eyes then dart to the new top she was wearing, then back to Charles. He gave Max a look.

"I bumped into her and thought I could help her get a new top," he explains. "I felt bad. So blame me for stealing her. Sorry, mate."

Max chuckles while nodding. "Of course it's a red top too," he jokes, Charles ears turning bright red, he puts his hands up in defense.

"Blame Rebecca for that one," he sputters, Max doing a once-over with a smug smirk while nodding slowly. "Uh-huh," Max trails off. "Well, thank you for helping her out," he says, a smug smirk only getting wider.

Charles nods curtly, before facing Y/N with a small smile, and squeezes her side. "Good seeing you, cherie," he mutters to her, kissing her cheek before he leaves her. Y/N realizing her side feeling slightly colder than it did when his hand was there.

She turns to watch him leave and head down the stairs, biting her lip without realizing it. Her head turns back to face her brother and Pietra.

The pair is staring at her with smug and knowing smiles. Max leans back in his seat, crossing his arms and clearing his throat.

Y/N squints her eyes at them. "What?" Watching her brother nod at her.

"Someone has a crush."

She scoffs at her brother. "You're reading into things," she chuckles while shaking her head.

Pietra laughs. "Oh, honey, no. You two were staring at each other like you want to-"

"Don't even say what you're going to say," Max whines, covering his face. "I don't need to hear that."

Y/N just laughs, pointing at Pietra. "You're wrong on top of that."

Pietra rolls her eyes with a smirk, and before she can argue further, Lando is seen walking up to the group, making Y/N want to fade away.

Lando sees her, only doing a double-take when he sees the color of her shirt, also realizing that this was indeed not the color she was wearing earlier. He slowly points at her shirt, Max chuckles.

"Dear old Ferrari man has a crush on my sister," Max admits, then points at her. "She's crushing on him as well."

"Maxwell!" Y/N hisses, watching him crack up. She doesn't miss the way Lando's facial expression drops, something unreadable in his expression.

"What d'you mean?" he asks slowly. Y/N groans while hiding her face.

"What he means," Pietra starts. "Charles spilled coffee on her and helped her get a new shirt. And apparently that was his chance to get her in red."

Lando's eyes snapped down to Pietra, Max just sitting there in a fit of giggles as his sister kicks his shin.

"He was just being helpful," Y/N grumbles. "Besides, Rebecca was the one who gave it to me. Not Charles."

Max looks back at her. "Sure, we know that," he says between laughs. "But the eye fucking you two were doing before he left said more than that. Especially that little kiss move-"

"He kissed you?" Lando cuts in, his tone sharp and stern. Max and Pietra look at him with certain looks. His head and eyes only focused on Y/N in that moment, who was now shifting on her feet with her arms crossed.

"It was just on the cheek," she rolls her eyes before glaring at Max. "Stop making it sound like he laid me out on the table or something," she hisses, making Lando choke on his spit while Max gagged.

"That's vile, do not ever say that again," he points at his sister with a disgusted look. "Second, I'm only saying it because I think you two would be good together."

That makes her eyes widen in shock, watching him put his hands up in defense.

"Say what now? I thought you said no racers."

He hums with a nod before pointing out to Lando. "Yeah, I said that mainly for that one," he says, missing how his mate clenched his jaw. "Charles, on the other hand? I hope it does happen. He's one of the good ones."

Y/N coughs awkwardly, not missing the way Lando scoffed at his best friend's words, mumbling something under his breath as he crossed his arms.

"Can we just change the subject, please? I'm not crushing on Charles, and I'm not going to date him."

Max gives her a knowing look before turning his gaze towards Lando. He frowns. "You good, mate?" he asks, watching as Lando snaps his gaze at Max. He nods curtly.

"Just don't care to hear about her sex life, you muppet. Charles is a player and only wants what he can't have," he admits, not missing the way Y/N glared straight to the side of his face. "Anyways, we're getting ready to start. I was gonna walk you lots to the club level."

Max nods before taking Pietra's hand to guide her. Lando kept his pace next to Y/N's, the girl not missing how his hand would brush against hers every so often.

She could see the gears turning in his head, clenching his jaw every so often, as if he was preventing himself from saying or doing something he might regret. Max and Pietra were further ahead of them, happily making their way to the balcony in the club level of the paddock, overlooking the racetrack.

"He can't give you what I can," the brit says next to her, causing her to snap her gaze at him with a frown. She scoffs.

"That's awfully daft, coming from you," she shoots back. "You ghosted me, remember? You don't have a say in my actions."

"Oh, so you are seeing Leclerc huh?"

She scoffs. "Go check on your girlfriend, Norris. The one you dropped me for."

He glares at her. "Y/N-"

"End of discussion, Lando."

She walks away, a part of her wanting him to grab her and pull her back. Show her she was his. Even if it was behind closed doors. The other part of her was happy he didn't. She wanted him to see that he couldn't have her. He missed the opportunity.

Don't call me your ex, 'cause I never met you

She kept close to her brother and P the entire race, zoning out the entire time the race went on.

Her mind didn't know what to think.

She missed Lando. She really did.

The other part of her though, was also pulling towards Charles.

Y/N couldn't tell if it was just because of how Lando reacted, or because of how she felt a new feeling whenever Charles was near her.

Or how she caught her stare lingering longer on Charles as he took P2. Or how his eyes found hers in the crowd, staring back at her, his smile becoming wider when he saw she was staring first.

It's all pins and needles, babe

I feel nothing for you, nothing for you

Now, here she stood, in the VIP section of the Monaco club after Lando placed P1 at his home race.

She had a drink in her hand, pretty sure the glass could break under her grip. Her eyes did not leave the way his hands and body moved with the blonde on the dancefloor.

At this point she couldn't tell if she was jealous, or pissed off. Or both.

She watched as his hands moved along her body, how his lips never left her body as they danced. He looked like a wet dream.

"You hold onto that glass any tighter, it's gonna shatter and cut up that pretty hand," a familiar French accent says next to her. Her eyes snap out of the daze, turning to see Charles taking the spot next to her.

He nods at her slowly. "You alright, cherie?" he asks her, making her laugh to herself before spinning a finger around the rim of her glass.

"Honestly, I don't know," she admits, looking back at his confused frown. "Can I be honest?"

"Always."

She sighs. "I had been seeing this guy. We weren't anything exclusive, but at the same time, it felt like it. Then out of nowhere, he just stops. No explanation, no excuses, nothing. Just drops me like I'm nothing," she explains, letting a bitter chuckle leave her lips.

"Then I found out it's because he had another girl. I don't even know how long. It was just out of the blue, and I guess I shouldn't have been as upset as I was about it. But I can't help it."

Charles takes in every word she's saying, nodding and humming at the appropriate times.

"It burns my chest seeing them, seeing him, act like I never even mattered," she admits. "But then, I began to realize something else. There's this other guy. I didn't even realize I felt good around him. Like I could relax around his presence. Forget about why I was so hurt about the other guy," she explains, not even realizing how easy it had become to open up to Charles.

The way his expression showed no judgment. No sense of uneasiness as she spoke. Just a genuine expression that showed he was listening to her.

"And part of me wanted this guy I was seeing," she says more to herself. "But a bigger part of me really wants this guy that makes me feel seen. Heard."

Charles nods at her, taking a sip of his drink. "You alright if I give you my advice?" he asks cautiously.

She nods. "Always," she copies his words, making him grin at her.

He points at Lando. "He's an idiot for letting you go," he admits, watching her face contort to confusion, and then to shock before shaking her head.

"I didn't- How did-"

He laughs at her, stepping closer. "It's not hard to see. You two weren't as slick as you thought," he admits, Y/N feeling her face begin to heat up.

"I'm sorry," she admits with a sigh, looking down at her now-empty glass. "I didn't mean to sound like that. I just- I didn't have anyone I trusted to talk to."

"And I'm just easier to talk to? Someone you trust?" he asks her, leaning his elbow on the bar behind them, a knowing smirk on his lips. She snaps her head to him.

As she was about to say something, he stood up straight, walked to stand in front of her, and took the glass from her fingers. She doesn't miss the way his fingers brush hers, goosebumps rising on her skin. He places the glass on the mahogany behind them, his eyes lowering to her own. She gulps as she watches his smirk widen just slightly, while he places both hands on the bar behind her, caging her in. His face was dangerously close to hers, the Monégasque not missing the way her breaths came out shaky.

"As for this other guy," he starts, his tone lower. Darker. "I think he's very worth your time. He wouldn't make you feel like Lando did. He'd take care of you. Treat you right. Show you how a woman like you should be worshipped."

Y/N feels her pulse quicken. "Besides," he mutters, bringing his lips closer to her own. "If you're choosing between two people, choose the second. Because if you really did like the first option, you wouldn't have fallen for the second."

That got Y/N's insides churning, knowing deep down Charles was right. He was so right.

He chuckled darkly as he watched his chest rising and falling quicker after he said that, placing his lips closer to her ear as he placed a light kiss against the lobe. "The second guy also just really wants to be selfish," he admits.

Y/N smiles slowly at his words, letting herself indulge slowly with Charles. She lets out a gasp as she feels his lips planting feather-light kisses from her jawline, down to her neck and her collarbone.

She finally trails her hands up his button-up, slipping underneath the half-open shirt, slithering to rest on the bare skin of his back just before it meets the crook of his neck. His head leaves her neck, bringing his head closer to her own.

"So this other guy," she says breathlessly. "You think he'd worship me, huh? Show me how worth it I am?"

He hums with a nod, kissing the corner of her lips. Y/N found herself craving more, her body aching for his own against hers. Skin to skin.

"He'd do more than just that," he chuckles against her jaw. "He'd take his time with you. Show you exactly how a woman like you should be appreciated. Till you're shaking."

Y/N lets out a breathless moan at that, one of her hands finding his hair. "Spoil you to death. Treat you like the absolute Queen you are."

Charles brings his head back up to really look at her. Y/N staring back into his own eyes, flicking down to his lips for a split second. "Charles," she says softly, earning a hum from him. "Kiss me please."

That's all it took for Charles to take her jaw in his hands, placing a passionate and messy kiss on her lips. Their teeth clashed, tongues messily battling against one another as she kissed him with such need. Such obsession.

The more they kissed, the more they craved one another. Charles let his hands fall from her jaw to her hips, pulling her lower body into his.

Lando was long forgotten in Y/N's mind. He was the last thing she was thinking of; she could forget his name if Charles kept up the way he touched and kissed her.

Little did she realize, Lando was now frozen in his spot on the floor. His eyes darkened. He glared as he watched the girl his heart yearned for, and the guy who was going to be six feet under if looks could kill.

He could tell it wasn't just for show either. She really wanted Charles. Charles wanted her.

He only knew that because of how she was kissing Charles, it was the way she used to kiss him. His heart hurt, chest tightened. He couldn't tear his eyes away from the scene across the club.

Magui was long forgotten in that moment, Lando realizing he lost the girl he wanted most.

He should've known.

Y/N whines at the loss of Charles' lips when he pulls back, the man looking down at her blown-out state. Her lips swollen as her eyes look up at him with a knowing look.

"What do you say, cherie?" he says slowly, watching her slowly smile.

"I think I'm open to giving this other guy a chance," she jokes, watching him bite his lip to hide the big ear to ear smile that was forming.

He leaned down to kiss her once more, before breaking away and lacing a hand with hers.

Charles began to lead her away from the bar, his gaze locking with Lando's as they passed by.

He didn't miss the way Lando slightly mouthed a 'what the fuck' at his friend, a glare in his direction. Charles held his head up high, smirking at Lando, giving him a sly little wink before he turned his attention to Y/N.

Lando saw the way her eyes looked up at Charles, like she finally felt happy. At ease in his presence. Like she had forgotten Lando existed in that moment. She probably did, and that hit him like a truck.

He watched as Charles placed his other hand on her lower back to help keep her next to him as they pushed through the crowd, making sure not to lose her as they headed out.

Lando didn't even excuse himself from Magui, earning a shocked squeak from her as she watched him rush away from the dancefloor.

Lando scurried past everyone and towards the front entry, pushing past the people who were trying to congratulate him as he passed by.

He didn't give a single fuck about any of them, his mind only thinking about her.

Please. Don't go home with him

His mind begged, wishing she could read minds. Read his.

The way he knew he was already way too late. Months too late.

Once he had gotten outside, he had seen Charles shutting her door before turning to thank the valet workers. His eyes flicked twice over to Lando's state. Trying his best to hide the winning smirk as he saw the disheveled state of the British man.

Charles looked back at his car towards her window, before looking back at Lando. He walked up to him, Lando's gaze hardening as he got closer.

"Don't," Lando warns him.

Warning him to not cross this line. To not take the girl that Charles knew he was so in love with, not take her home. He didn't like this feeling. He hated it.

That's when he realized what it was.

Lando Norris was jealous. He was jealous beyond words.

He never gets jealous.

Not until now.

Charles chuckles at him, patting his shoulder. "Lando," he chuckles. "You ruined your chances. Give her the chance to finally be happy, hm?"

He shook his head. "You can't give her what I can give her."

Charles bites his lower lip before speaking. "That's the point," he begins. "I wouldn't treat her like shit, like you did. I'll give her everything she deserves, and more. Not give her nothing, like you gave her."

That made Lando feel like he had been shot in the chest.

“I won’t ever let her feel or think she’s only good for one thing,” Charles adds, giving Lando a knowing look. Lando’s face drops slightly, then frowns. “I’m going to show her she’s worth more than she could ever imagine. Because she is.” Charles admits, a genuine look in his eyes.

Lando doesn’t know what to say in that moment. He felt defeated.

Because part of him knew (all of him knew) that Charles was good for her. He wouldn’t treat her anything lower than the Goddess she was.

Lando just hated that it wasn’t him.

Charles pats him on the shoulder. "Goodnight, mate," he says before walking away and getting into the car. Lando watched as the pair drove off into the night. Something was burning inside Lando's chest. Burned in his eyes.

Tears.

Jealousy.

Need.

Y/N smiled to herself as Charles and she drove along the roads, his hand gently on her thigh while hers rested on top of his.

Her phone buzzed, not once, not twice, but three times. This caused her to pick it up and look down at it. She thought she would feel something, anything, as she read the messages.

Please, don't go with him. I'm so in love with you

Come back to me, I'll be better. It hurts to see you not with me. Hurts to see you happy with him. I'll prove myself. I'll do better, for you

It's always been you

Y/N takes a deep breath as she begins to type with her free hand.

Your time ran out. A long time ago, Lando. It's time I let myself be happy.

Goodbye Lando

With that, she turned her phone off and looked over at Charles. His eyes gazed back at her, nothing but admiration as he stared at her.

"You okay?" he asks softly. She takes a moment before nodding.

"Yeah," she hums. "I am now."

[lanternlightss]

(with a corkboard behind me, red strings all around it) no okay listen there are so many similarities between nameless bard and amos,

[oceanwithouthermoon]

okay i just put this in the tags of a different post but now i have to put it in another post so i can talk about it more <3

celestia and luna : kusuo and kusuke is NOT a cut and dry comparison and neither of them fit one or the other perfectly.. for the most part, kusuo is celestia and kusuke is luna (kusuke lashing out because he thinks kusuo is better than him, that things are easier for kusuo, kusuo not understanding, etc etc.) but the problem with that by itself is that that goes BOTH ways in almost the same exact way, the biggest difference is in how they cope with it all.. kusuo also sees himself in luna A LOT, but unlike kusuke he keeps his issues bottled up and never once takes it out on him.. he competes back to kusuke, especially when they were kids, but for the most part he doesnt WANT to and only does it because either 1) kusuke tries to make him feel inferior or 2) kusuke BRIBES him to do it ???

they both think the other has it better and wish that they could live the others life, and neither of them understand the others struggles (and probably never will fully, but hopefully itll get better for them.)

kusuo definitely watched mlp and thinks of HIMSELF as the luna or the 'nightmare moon' of the two of them because, even though he hasnt ever actually lashed out in that way, he knows how perfectly capable of it he is and he believes himself to be some sort of monster.. and its not really a rational way for him to see things, especially since he doesnt even usually view kusuke in a positive light ? but lunas story just hits home with him that badly..

this is just one reason why i think it sucks that kusuo being "powerless" basically only lasted a weekend, because we totally couldve gotten to see a "celestia and luna switching cutie marks for a day" kind of dynamic between kusuo and kusuke.. obviously not with kusuke having powers, but with him being above kusuo and more powerful than the general human race and realizing that being better than kusuo isnt what he wanted it to be..

and seeing how absolutely depressed and in denial kusuo becomes at first when he starts getting his powers back wouldve hit so much harder for kusuke if it had been a slower realization before kusuo could begin accepting himself again

[miajooz]

Lust Quest? ₊˚⊹♡

overview ꨄ Ellie—your girlfriend, was sitting at her desk practically the whole day playing her favorite game. You didn’t mind usually, but the lack of attention was definitely annoying you. After awhile of nagging, she got fed up with you.

warnings ꨄ Ellie is lowkey kinda mean..choking, strap-usage (r!receiving), fingering (!receiving), choking, hair pulling, degrading, dumbfication, deprivation of pleasure, edging, ect! NOT exactly a drabble, IM SORRY GUYS! I GOT CARRIED AWAY.

wc: 5.6k

You’re not exactly sure how you got in this situation. Better yet, where you managed to lose where this situation made sense. Your girlfriend, Ellie, was playing on her PlayStation—like always, it seemed. Ever since you got her that desk sized T.V, she hadn’t been able to peeled herself away from the same thing.

She was playing some sort of zombie game that you actually had no care for, but there was something about the way her fingers moved the joysticks so calculatedly that was so enamoring. Or the way her brow would be furrowed in either annoyance or concentration, the way she’d bite the inside of her bottom lip and breathe heavier—it was so hot.

Everything about Ellie was hot, everything she did put you in a trance you found yourself stuck in at every waking minute. Even your unawake moments—she lived there, taking over your mind as if she had the right to.

The only downside was how focused she got on the game. You’d be trying to have an actual conversation with her, and she’d be shooting a zombie in some hotel basement, complaining and groaning. It was irritating to say the least, you only really managed when she’d let you sit on her lap—as long as you promised to stay still, that is. But even in that position, you found yourself feeling envious of a gaming controller. The way both hands were gripping it tightly, the way she’d tighten her grip when she got angry. You missed when your thighs would be her stress relief toy.

What a low blow, where had your self worth gone?

Even though she’d squeeze your thigh as if it was the only thing keeping her sane, or burry her face in your neck and groan frustratedly—it wasn’t enough. You still couldn’t stay still, you still couldn’t help but squirm and sigh in annoyance when her eyes would be trained on the screen in front of her instead of her literal girlfriend.

You complained, you whined, you didn’t stay still, you didn’t stay quiet—but she seemed so unfazed. That only made you try harder, stubbornness was a two-way problem in this relationship.

Your complaining didn’t go unnoticed, though, she’d usually brush it off and laugh—but not this time.

That’s how you ended up in this situation. Ellie had pushed her gracefully gifted T.V closer to the wall before slamming you down on the desk. The impact forced a sharp yelp from your throat, along with multiple figures, comics, and whatever other shit she had on her desk to fall off. The cluttering sound of things falling didn’t faze her, she just looked at you with narrowed eyes and an agitated expression.

“Baby, do you know what staying still means?” she asked, her voice was so condescending. It was as if she was talking to you like you were stupid—maybe because she knew you would be in a few minutes. You were always left hazy when she was done with you, even you were painfully aware of that fact.

“I’d stay still if you actually paid attention to me. Do I have to get on my knees and plead for basic attention?” you spat, equally as angry. It was unknown if it was the anger or the heavy sexual tension that made the room feel so tense—most likely the latter.

“Oh, please. You get plenty of attention, you just don’t like when my focus is on something other than you.” she argued, the way she was running her hand up your thigh was a stark contrast to her bitter tone.

You knew it was true, she showered you in attention and affection. Even in her more distant moments, you could see how hard she tried. Yet, it was still so frustrating when she focused so hard on something other than you, something that wasn’t even real, pixels on the T.V you bought her.

“You’re so infuriating, Ellie. You speak as if I’m some kind of attention whore.” it was as if your whole comment got ignored—at least for a moment. Ellie placed her calloused, rough hands under your thighs and yanked you towards her. A strained gasp left your throat from the force, it was nerve wracking; but arousing in away.

“Not far from it, sweetheart.” she murmured, ensuring your legs were wrapped around her waist securely before starting to kiss up your neck. Making sure she was in her rightful place between your thighs. “Look how you act when you’re not the center of attention.” You scoffed and tried to shoot her a dirty look, but she was clearly occupied. She kissed along your jawline in a way that made you feel wanted for the first time that day. The pecks you received seemed almost forced, but not reluctant. It was as if she was forcing herself to be gentle with you.

Your arms instinctively wrapped around her, tracing them up and down her back softly. There was no desire for roughness on your end, it was really only attention you wanted. You wanted more of her hands, more of her kisses, more of everything.

Ellie continued, the wet kisses she left were making your spine tingle. So passionate, but so angry. She bit down on your neck particularly hard, earning her a small hiss—you could feel the way her lips curled upwards against your neck. She sucked the sore part of your neck softly, almost teasingly. It was teasing in the way that it was as if it was a wordless apology for her roughness; but you knew better than that.

Ellie pulled away for a brief moment, making eye contact with you again. She kneaded the plush of your thighs in her hand like they were pillows, in a way that felt like they belonged to her. They did in a way, they looked so pretty in her hands, or wrapped around her waist, or around her head when she ate you out.

One of Ellie’s hands slid up to your inner thigh, her eyes still trained on you—watching you, piercing your irises with hers. It was as if she was taking apart your soul and searching for any remorse, or maybe she was just searching for any other reaction besides annoyance. She was finding it for sure, you were an open book. A small smirk crept up onto her lips when she looked at you, all you could do was gulp and furrow your eyebrow in response.

“Is this all you need to stay still, baby? You need me to wear you out?” she questioned, her expression was twisted into one of almost mock pity. The tone in her voice was so condescending, so mean. “That’s fine, just stay still and be good, yeah?”

Regardless—you ate it up. You were practically drooling when she spoke to you that way, and she knew it.

Ellie’s hands slid a bit further, moving to the left a bit to press against your clothed cunt—with far more pressure than necessary. You writhed under her hand, desperately searching for friction but also just feeling so twitchy from the sudden contact.

“Ellie, come on..” you urged, trying to rut your hips against her hand, in an act to chase friction and pleasure but also to convince her to actually please you. Ellie seemed unsatisfied by this act, she immediately pulled her hand away and placed it roughly on your hip, keeping you in place. When you still tried to wiggle, she brought her other hand up to your throat.

Your breath hitched—fuck, she was so hot it was painful. The way she eyed you made you want to melt in her hands.

“Do you not know what ‘stay still’ means? I don’t think you’re dumb, are you?” she asked, though it was more of a mocking thing than a question.

“I’ll give you what you want, but since you were such a fucking brat you have to wait.” her tone was so harsh, her hand pressing on your throat as a warning. she wasn’t actually trying to choke you, she just needed that shock factor.

Despite the roughness, you were practically frothing at the mouth, your cunt clenching with every squeeze, every word. The way she scolded you and looked at you in that angry way—it was so alluring. The way her toned bicep would flex when she squeezed your throat, or the way one eyebrow would furrow more than the other.

“Mmh, m’sorry.” you managed to mumble out, looking at her with pleading eyes. it seemed to work, because she did stop squeezing your throat a bit. Her hand lingered there, the one that was holding your hip went to the waistband of your shorts instead.

“You’re not sorry at all, sweetheart.” she tutted, slipping her thumb under the waistband in a slow, torturous manner. “But you’re gonna try and apologize so I’ll be soft with you, right?” it was a rhetorical question, she didn’t want you to answer it. Now both hands were on the lower half of your body, sliding under you to grip your ass. Her hands lingered there, squishing and kneading the flesh roughly.

With a swift motion, Ellie lifted you up a bit and worked both your shorts and panties off, dropping you back onto the desk when she was done. A small yelp left your lips, especially when even more things fell off the desk—this was getting old.

Ellie grabbed your thighs roughly, forcing them open. She eyed you like a piece of meat, but also like a work of art.

Her hands slipped in between your thighs, her fingertips brushing against your wet folds. Her lips curled into a slow, lopsided smirk—the eye contact was making this so much worse. You were so wet you thought you would leak all over her damn desk, your cunt ached with such need that only she could satisfy.

“Fucking soaked, and I thought you wanted me to be soft.” she scoffed, her ring and middle finger moving to your aching clit and tracing soft circles. “Do you like it when I’m mean to you?” she asked, looking at you with a devilish, expectant look in her eye as she worked your clit lazily.

You let out a soft whine in protest, wanting to rut against her fingers but realizing how bad of an idea that was. Her question was left unanswered, you were too busy panting and silently begging for her to give you more.

Ellie was unsatisfied, she pulled away just enough to land a slap on your clit. You cried out, your legs kicking softly in surprise—but not in an attempt to kick her away. She watched as your hole clenched around nothing, her fingers pressing against the wetness softly. “Or don’t answer, that’s fine. But I already know the answer by how wet you are for me.”

Without warning, she shoved her fingers inside your aching cunt. It wasn’t in a rough way, more of an impatient way. but you weren’t ready, especially since she didn’t even start you out with one.

“Ellie!” you cried out, the roughness to her movements was such a turn on. Her fingers moved in slow, scissoring motions, despite the rough start. You could feel her stretching you out, prepping you for something. You could feel your poor pussy stretching to accommodate the abrupt entrance of her fingers.

“Oh I know, baby. Feel good? Atta girl, you’re taking it so well.” she praised, the switches between comfort and degrading were confusing you—that’s exactly what she wanted to happen. “Greedy, look how you’re sucking me in.” she commented playfully, tilting your head down so you could actually watch her fingers working your poor hole. A string of weak whines left you from the sight, both from embarrassment and pleasure.

Ellie just shushed you, her fingers curling inside your warm heat and causing you to squirm a bit. “Shh, you’re fine, sweetheart. You wanted attention, right?” she asked, her eyes locked on yours, holding an almost uncomfortable amount of eye contact. “ Do you think I’m stupid enough to not notice you grinding on my thigh while i’m trying to play a game?” her voice was patronizing, so mean in the way that made you tied between the want to make her angrier or the want to make her softer.

“No..” you mumbled in response, trying to bury your face in her neck. There were wet squelching sounds every time she made a scissoring motion or delved in particularly deeper. You were in heaven, soft moans and pants escaping your throat—desperately looking for something to scramble and cling onto.

Ellie raised an eyebrow, she was unsatisfied, again. Not that she was actually angry—she just liked an excuse to be rough with you. Though that wasn’t too barbaric, you loved it.

She moved her hand up towards your neck again, you knew what was coming. She grabbed the side of it, squeezing a bit harder now. Her thumb was pressing against your trachea with enough pressure that made you feel nervous but turned on all at once.

“No? No what, baby? You can’t be that stupid already, my fingers can’t take away your literacy.” she mocked, it was just a filler question to make you feel stupid—to make you think. There was still that smirk on her face, the smirk that told you she was enjoying this, the smirk that told you how much she liked fingering you and watching you fall apart on something that was strictly hers.

The weak whines and moans that left you only fueled her, her fingers started fucking into you at an unnecessarily rough pace. Ellie wanted to make you see stars, and oh, you would.

When she started fingering you faster, all you could do was weakly grab onto her arms. One hand was on the bicep of the arm in charge of fingering you, while the other was on the one choking you. Your hands practically scrambled there, your thighs shaking and your hands squeezing her biceps as a means to ground yourself.

“Ellie, fuck! No—I don’t think you’re stupid!” you cried out, barely managing to choke out the words between pants and weak moans. The way her fingers were stretching you out was so addictive, you could feel yourself clamping down on them with every thrust, a coil in your stomach tightening unbearably. But she just looked at you, her eyes darting between your pussy sucking in her fingers and the needy expression on your face. Something in her eyes was just so sultry.

Ellie was addicted to the feeling of your walls around her fingers, sucking her as a silent plead for more. It was a beautiful sight, all she could do was let out a soft groan every time she could feel you tighten around her.

“Come on baby, do you wanna cum?” she taunted, a grin still on her face as she watched you fall apart, as her fingers worked your pussy like it was second nature, like she was meant to do it. Like every single thrust of her digits was a silent word, a word of belonging, everything you couldn’t sum your relationship up with in simple words. Like every moan validated how much you belonged to her.

“Beg for it, maybe I’ll be generous.”

And you did.

You nodded feverishly, both hands scrambling to the arm closest to your pussy, squeezing her bicep. “Please, Els! I need it, please just let me cum—shit!” you squeezed your eyes shut, but the pressure on your throat tightened. Your eyes flew open and you let out a weak yelp, in response, she immediately loosened her grip. “I’m..so close!”

You assumed that if you begged she’d she asked you to, she’d let you cum.

You were terribly mistaken.

Ellie watched with a smirk as your back arched, listened as your breathing got a bit deeper. And then as abrupt and as harsh as she started—she pulled her fingers out. You couldn’t believe it at first, your mind was far too clouded by pleasure to even process what happened. But when you came to your senses, you saw her smiling at you innocently—or not so innocently.

Did she seriously deprive you of orgasming even though she made you beg? How cruel.

“What the hell?!” you complained, you could already feel tears prickling in your eyes. You wanted to cum so bad, your cunt was aching so bad it hurt. All the blood had rushed there, making you hyper aware of how horny you actually were. Especially after being worked up like that.

Ellie frowned at you, though it wasn’t in sympathy; more of a mocking frown. “I said maybe I’d let you, are you that brain dead already?” she asked, popping her now sticky fingers into her mouth right in front of you, sucking them clean. “I’m sorry baby, I didn’t realize. I’ll help you think again when we’re done, yeah?”

A weak moan escaped your throat, stray tears streaming down your cheeks. She seemed a bit remorseful, but you couldn’t even think of the fact that could be false too. She stepped back a bit, stroking your hair comfortingly and kissing your forehead. “Stay put, sweetheart.” she commanded softly, before walking over to her nightstand.

Ellie crouched down to second drawer, that was the drawer. You immediately felt hopeful, it was obvious she was getting a toy. Your guess was right, she pulled out a green strap, one she used on you quite often—maybe she liked seeing her favorite color wreck your cunt by her own doing. Then she brought it over to you, setting it between your thighs as a tease, but you weren’t amused.

She quickly discarded her pants, throwing them in the same place she threw your attire beforehand. Ellie’s eyes were on you again, so intimidating but so sexy. You bucked your hips a bit, maybe trying to at least get to touch your clit to the toy near your sopping heat. It didn’t go unnoticed, though, Ellie immediately picked the strap back up and held it. There was a knowing smile on her face, it only grew when she brought the strap to your lips.

“Suck.” is all she said—plain and simple but direct in the most sensible way she could be. With slightly furrowed eyebrows and teary eyes, you opened your mouth. Ellie watched the way your tongue lolled out, immediately pushing the silicone into your mouth.

Weak groans escaped you as she pushed it further, your throat now struggling to accommodate the entrance.

“Open up your throat, baby.” she coaxed, moving to rub your neck softly. You bobbed your head up and down since she held it at an angle, looking at her through your eyelashes.

Ellie let out a groan, her hand moving from your throat to your face. She cupped both your cheeks, making you groan and stop bobbing your head. “Your lips look so pretty when you’re wrapped around things. Both lips are the same, i guess” she joked.

You actually laughed at that, causing you to gag on the silicone into your throat. She pulled it out after that, her eyes sparkling at the sight of drool connecting your lips to the toy. She needed to be inside you, she needed it now.

She immediately worked to slip it on, she was so used to the act of doing so it took little to no time at all. A shiver ran down your spine at the sight, it was ridiculous to be so experienced at putting. a fucking strap on.

Ellie didn’t immediately start ravaging you, which was unusual for her. She was never exactly known as a patient person, especially when it came to the idea of watching you squirm.

Instead, she plopped back down on her chair, her eyes looking up at you with a deep, sultry hint in her eyes. She simply smiled and patted her lap, beckoning you towards her with her pointer and middle finger. “C’mere, baby. ‘You wanna ride me?”

That was probably the sexist thing you had ever seen. Damn.

You were quick to hop off the desk, your legs trembling with sheer need. Arousal webbing between your thighs in a way that made you feel filthy. The whole room felt heavier, as if your clouded mind was contagious to the world around you.

Within seconds you were hovering over Ellie’s lap, your eyes darting between the strap and her naturally alluring eyes. She grabbed your hips softly, guiding you closer until the tip was splitting your folds apart like it was separating rose petals. With a gentle hold on you, she softly eased you down further. Your teeth clenched together a bit as you sank down onto the object, immediately clamping down on it tightly with both relief and slight spurn.

“Mmh, Ellie..” is all you could manage, your head tilting back a bit so you could sigh. She held your hips still, letting you adjust—or so you thought. Usually she’d start you off, bouncing you up and down in a way that had you questioning how much she likes maneuvering you and all your life choices.

But not this time, she simply held you still.

Even when you tried to do it yourself, thinking that’s what she wanted to see—she held you still. You immediately got antsy, the aching in your cunt couldn’t be ignored, it was throbbing with need. You were so horny, one more antic away from leaving to finish yourself off in the bathroom.

“Ellie, please? Why aren’t you letting me move?” you questioned, your voice was pleading but also a bit irritated. The way you just sat there with her strap inside you was torturous, you were sure your pussy would clamp so hard you wouldn’t be able to move if she let you.

“I don’t know, Do you deserve it?” Ellie asked, a sardonic and sarcastic tint in her tone.

How cruel was she? She already ripped an orgasm away from you and now she was denying you any pleasure? All because you nagged her for attention.

“..What?” you managed, your breathing a bit labored. With desperation, your hips tried to buck forwards and up and down and deeper—everywhere. But Ellie didn’t even let you move an inch, keeping your hips firmly situated.

This was absolute torture. Your eyes immediately prickled with tears again from sheer need.

“Do you deserve it? It’s a simple question, baby. I know you’re not that stupid.” she teased, tilting her head at you. “C’mon, my baby is so much better than that.”

You were dumbfounded, blinking at her with confusion and desperation as tears streamed down your face. Ellie offered you a pouty frown—though it was so obviously bullshit.

“Awh, baby. Don’t cry, maybe if you apologize I’ll be nice.” she suggested, her voice clearly hinting at you to act on that.

“Apologize? Why?” you asked, but you knew damn well why. Silently, you cursed yourself for dragging this conversation on instead of just apologizing. Your poor hole was throbbing so bad, it almost felt good—almost.

Ellie had such a condescending smirk on her face, but everytime you looked at her you’d clench around the strap. “Well, do you want to cum? I could make it so much worse if you don’t wanna cum..” she said, trailing her hands up and down your lower back, squeezing your ass, “You know, keep you all still for longer. I could just sit here and mold you around me.”

A weak noise crawled out of your throat, you immediately shook your head feverishly. “No, Els! I’m sorry for nagging you so much, please—please, I wanna cum!” you pleaded, a few stray tears spilling from your eyes.

Fortunately for you, Ellie seemed satisfied. She slid her hands back up to your hips, adjusting her grip on you. With that, she started bouncing you up and down at a slow pace. It was tortuously slow, but relief crashed over your body when you finally felt something.

“Good girl, see how easy it is?” she praised, which was obviously sarcastic again. She kept you going at a slow pace, bringing your hips down deep—but not deep enough. bringing you forward a bit to just barely brush against the devastating spot inside you—but still not enough. she practically had your body mapped out, something she took personal pride in.

This was torture for you, but in the best way. Your breathing was labored, your pussy gratefully sucking in the silicone, the plush of your flesh puffing besides the firm grip she had on you. It was intoxicating but depriving all at once.

“Els, please! I need more, I’m sorry!” you apologized again, your voice coming out more in hiccups rather than coherent words. Yet she seemed to understand anyway, she was used to seeing you in such a mess.

“Oh I know, baby. You’re so sorry, so, so sorry. It’s okay, sweetheart, I can’t fault you for just wanting attention.” her voice almost seemed softer now—a stark contrast to the event taking place. Ellie adjusted her grip on you once again, raising you you up and then slamming you back down.

A sharp cry left your throat at the sudden force, the tip kissing your cervix in a way that made you squirm. “F-fuck, baby!” you practically squealed, hearing a small laugh come from her as she watched you fall apart. Your sopping hole was sucking her in so good, she eventually loosened her grip on your hips so you could move on your own.

“You have such a pretty pussy, y’know? I love the way you suck me in like that.” she commented, her voice was low and full of whatever magic she had in her vocal cords that made your panties sticky every time she spoke. She almost felt like she could feel you sucking her in, but watching was just as satisfying.

You continued bouncing up and down on her strap, humiliating squelching sounds coming from between you and the silicone. The room was full of wet sounds, panting, huffing, moans, tension, and the ambiance of sex. Your lips were stuck in a parted opening, soft moans and gasps leaving you everytime you felt her deep inside you. Like she was making an imprint inside you, like she belonged inside your warm heat, like her eyes were drinking up all the juices from your cunt that she couldn’t.

“Just like that, you’d think you were made for riding me.” she joked her fingers moving to your tits. she circled her thumb around of of them softly, pausing to press down a bit harder. She moved towards the left one and licked it softly, relishing in the way you squirmed and moaned. She pinched and sucked at your nipples softly, but enough to keep you satisfied.

As much as Ellie adored watching you ride her, she wasn’t getting enough friction from it—she wasn’t the one supposed to be deprived of pleasure. She stilled your hips again, her fingers digging into the plush of your thighs firmly.

Before you could even grasp it, she pulled out of you. Her strap’s absence leaving you completely empty. You stumbled to your feet, but before you could even whine she was bending you over the desk. A gasp of air was squeezed out of your lungs as you were pushed down against the desk. She pushed your head into the wood, your cheek pressing against it as you writhed.

Without warning, Ellie slammed back into you. A sharp cry left your throat, both in surprise and from the feeling of her deep inside you again. Your face was smooshed into the desk, silencing you wordlessly. “Don’t whine, I know you love being stuffed.” she said, stroking your hair but keeping your head pinned down.

“Ugh..I can never get over this angle.” Ellie rasped, her voice was so husky and seductive. Despite her attempts to seem unaffected, she was biting her lip and panting behind you. It was hard to act so mean when you looked like this, when you were bent over a desk full of her, when you looked back at her with those lovely, pleading eyes.

Oh, she was just as much of a mess as you were.

Ellie started off slow, fucking into you with deep, satyric thrusts. Her eyes were trained on the way your sopping cunt sucked her in greedily every time, her mind full of thoughts she wouldn’t say out loud for once.

With ease, her hand slipped onto the back of your head, pulling it up by your hair. The way your back arched when she did so was so rousing. She moaned at the sight, her fingers caught, tangled in your beautiful hair. She couldn’t help but pick up the pace from the erotic sight, the friction of the strap rubbing against her clit made her sigh.

Your hands were sprawled out on the desk, desperately looking for something to help keep you up, to help you ground yourself from the object being thrusted in and out of your shaking body, the feeling was both addicting and overwhelming. Your hips tried to meet hers in the middle of each thrust, but you were becoming limp.

“You’re so pretty, baby. I should fuck you in front of a mirror sometime so you can see.” she suggested breathlessly, fucking you like an animal. Ellie’s thrusts were powerful, rough, deep, overwhelming—but also so fucking raw feeling. You felt as if she was rearranging something devastating inside you every time she’d hit the spot that made you want to scream.

“Els..fuck! Right there!” you managed to gasp out, the sound of skin slapping and wet squelching sounds from your pussy becoming all the more audible. Your eyes were seconds away from rolling back, you felt your stomach tighten in a way that was uncomfortable but delicious at the same time.

Ellie laughed, “Yeah? Good spot?” she said, trying to angle her hips in the spot that made you moan like that. She kept her hips angled there, her pelvis smashing against the plush of your ass with each thrust.

Ellie offered you a lopsided smirk, even if you couldn’t see it—you knew she was reeling with satisfaction. She tilted your head back further, the arch in your back only made her slide in deeper. “C’mon, I wanna hear you. Just like that..you sound so sweet, baby.” she groaned out, the pleasure building up in her as well. The way you moaned her name so breathlessly made her feral, it made her want to drive even more sounds out of you.

You couldn’t even think straight, all your mind was focused on was the feeling of your cunt being stretched perfectly for her, just in the way you knew she loved to see.

Ellie had memorized the way you’d tense up, the way you’d start your squirm, the way you’d try and fuck yourself against her when you were about to cum—you didn’t even have to warn her. “Are you close, babe? I’ll let you cum this time, promise.”

You immediately gasped, the hope you felt was almost sad. After that much torture, she had better let you cum. “Yes—please! I’m so close, don’t stop!”

“Yeah? ‘You gonna cum for me? Go ahead, lemme see it.”

That was all you needed, the raspiness, monotonous but needy tone of her voice always made you clench. Your head tilted back a bit further, pressing up against her fingers tangled in your hair. A long string of moans left you, majority of which were pathetic gasps of her name. Your orgasm hit you like a tidal wave, a release of tingling sensations bursting through your body all at once.

Ellie watched in awe as your walls spasmed around her strap, it was a sight that never got old, with a few more thrusts, she hung her head low and groaned, cursing and biting her lip as she also finished. She’d always had such an embarrassing orgasm face—so she usually hid it.

It wasn’t embarrassing, it was just adorable in the way it was so slutty. Adorable in the way she tried to act so mean but when she came—she just fell apart.

Both of you just remained there for a moment, panting and trying to catch your breath. Soaking up all the remaining pleasure and energy from the room around you. Your mind felt hazy, you felt like all your brain cells were gone the moment you came—perhaps gone in the humiliating amount of liquid arousal between your thighs.

Ellie pulled out soon enough, groaning as she saw your stretched out pussy staring at her. She put her hands on your shoulders, guiding you to stand up straight. You stumbled into her chest, hands scrambling to grip at her shirt for stability. She just laughed, kissing the top of your head tenderly like she didn’t just fuck your brains out and be a bitch to you.

You held her back, burying your face in her neck and groaning. All you could think about was the wetness webbing between your thighs and the smell of your girlfriend.

Ellie cleared her throat, rubbing your back softly. “Let me clean you up.” she said tenderly—before ruining it. “Wanna watch me play my game? I learned something super cool.”

You were absolutely dumbfounded, was she serious?

“You’re fucking ridiculous.” you commented, sighing into her neck weakly.

Ellie blinked and stared at the floor, registering your answer into her brain—poorly, might I add.

“So..yes?”

“You’re so insufferable.”

TAGS!! <3 @valeisaslut (50x) @eriiwaiii2 @haithone @usuck

A/N - this is kind of ass, i apologize. been struggling to write for some reason, FORGIVE MEEE. anywho, i hope you all have a nice easter!

[heesimp]

could u share how stepdad hoon and reader started their sexual relationship? who came onto who…did reader resist….feeling guilty to be enjoying it….stepdad hoon lowkey forcing…

I imagine Sunghoon married his wife out of convenience and because she was exceptionally easy fuck. He didn’t care about love and romance, or any of that bullshit. He just wanted available pussy and got hard on knowing she’d drop to her knees without him asking.

He knew she had a daughter in her last year of college but never formally met her. It’s not like he’s forgotten about it per se, but he figures the two of you aren’t close because his wife never brings you up and you never came around.

And when you did, something similar to electricity seemed to conjure up whenever he was in the same room with you.

His wife is fine and all, but she’s gotten so used to being married to a hot and wealthy man that she uses his money to fund her lavish lifestyle. It irritated him at first, because who is she to spend his money without asking? But you start to come over to their house during breaks. Winter holiday came around and being next to your bedroom 24/7 felt like an urge he was itching to scratch, never mind the fact that his wife slept next to him every time he had those thoughts. And when you weren’t home, it tortured him to imagine you wearing those shorts and push up bras you love so much. Sunghoon would fuck her in lieu of your body and wished he could be fucking you instead.

Truly, Sunghoon didn’t know who was the predator and who was prey. You act so innocent but don’t dress like you are. You say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ and treat him like a true member of your family when your mom’s around, but you look at him like you want to devour him alive. He’s pretty sure you know he wants you too, but Sunghoon knows he does a better job at hiding it.

During your spring break, you elect to go home instead of a girl’s trip under the guise of not having money. Which is bullshit. Sunghoon could front the bill and wouldn’t complain either. But he told you that your mom’s out of town and won’t be back until after you leave for uni again. It seemed like a no brainer to come home that week and see what happens.

One movie turned into two, and suddenly you were sitting on his lip with your pussy wrapped around his hard dick.

“We waited too long for this,” Sunghoon says against your mouth without remorse. He leans his head back against the couch and flexes his naked abdomen when you clench around his dick. He starts to put his hands on your waist but you push them away and kiss him hard.

“Let me do all the work, Daddy.” Sunghoon moans. “You do so much for me. Let me make you cum. Just relax.”

“I’m relaxed, alright.”

With your feet planted on either side of him on the couch, you ride him until he’s gushing inside of you. He’s looking up at you like you’re some kind of angel, and you look at him like you’ve won a game. You don’t stop fucking his cock until he forcibly pushes you off of him, but that doesn’t deter you from acting like the nymph he knows you are.

You scramble to your knees and push him back down onto the cushion, slipping his wet cock into your warm mouth. He nearly orgasms again when you hum around him, licking up the remnants of his cum as your fingers gently massage his balls. Your throat constricts around him like you’re trying to take him down all at once. Sunghoon is so fucking impressed and can’t help but think how much better you are at sucking dick compared to his wife.

Eventually, your mouth releases his cock and he watches you bend your head down while stroking him. He grunts when your mouth sucks on his balls and enjoys the feeling of your tongue dancing between his sack. He loves this feeling so much and wishes he could bottle it up. Sunghoon loves that you’re so fucking horny all of the time, and you show it by getting on your knees for him in a way no one has ever done before.

Sunghoon refuses to cum a second time before you get the chance to first, though. You find yourself clinging onto his chiseled, naked body for dear life as he carries you to his bedroom and pushes you against the bed he shares with his wife. It makes you even better and Sunghoon can see just how turned on you are from the prospect of how taboo and dirty this is. He thinks you like being his little secret and he’ll do anything to make sure your pussy is satisfied.

“Daddy’s cock is big, hm?” he tuts. He pushes his hard tip in and pulls it out, pushing and pulling over and over again until you whine. “Or is my stepdaughter’s pussy too tight?”

“Both!” You scream. “Your cock is so big, Daddy. Bigger than I’ve ever had.”

“God,” he moans, sinking right into your hole. “This is so wrong, but I think you like being a dirty slut, don’t you? My baby loves knowing she can get my cock whenever she wants.”

“Wanna fuck you all the time,” you babble when he thrusts in and out of you. His dick is so warm. It’s too good for you to ever let go.

He brushes your damp hair from your forehead and kisses you there. “My stepdaughter is so fucking gorgeous when she’s naked. You’re so messy and pretty when you’re under me.”

You’re close. So close. But he pulls out and pushes you onto all fours until he’s buried to the hilt again with his big sack resting against your clit. It makes you moan like never before and Sunghoon nearly bursts when you arch even further as you push your breasts against the soft mattress beneath you.

So he fucks you like that, hands on either side of your hips while he raises himself to balance his body as he fucks into you from behind. His balls clap against your soaked cunt to the point that he can feel your cum making him sticky. Sunghoon doesn’t stop until he’s cumming too, but even then his thrusts are still ongoing.

Neither of you care that you’re both overstimulated. Sunghoon keeps going and going, pushing your mixed cum in and out of you. He feels it dripping down his balls but doesn’t care about that right now.

Over the course of the week, you and Sunghoon go at it like never before. The sex between the two of you is cosmic and euphoric, like two addicts who need each other to survive. He never uses a condom and you never ask him to put one on, consequences be damned. There isn’t an inch of this house you two haven’t had sex on.

And he’ll admit it. The idea of cheating on his wife with his step daughter keeps him hard.

[foolinafable]

thanks to tuffnut

Hiccup Horrendous Haddock III x Fem!Reader Synopsis: four of the many times hiccup was oblivious to the fact he was in love with you and the time he finally realised.  Word Count: 1.5K Tags: 4+1 fic, Fluff, Hiccups pov Note: started this ages ago and only just got inspired enough to finish it.

1. Searching for you in a crowd 

Hiccup would never admit it, even now that he is respected as the heir to the hairy hooligan tribe and his father is proud of him. That he still feels like an outsider. 

Maybe it’s because they see him as this dragon master and while he might be if he’s to listen to anything Fishlegs says- he feels like they don’t see anything else- he is still just the chief’s son, the future of the tribe or their saviour if any of his work on the edge was talked about. He was never just Hiccup to them, even to his friends they see him as this omnipotent being rather than just a teen like them- capable of making mistakes.

He suggests that this is why he prefers to have time alone- just him, toothless the ocean beneath them and the wind carrying them elsewhere, where he can be anything. 

Annoyingly, this is not something he can do now: walking into the great hall at dinner time. He can already feel the beginnings of a headache wracking his brain as he imagines the awkward conversations he is going to have with villagers about his work on the edge as of late or the nagging of his father and Gobber to come back to Berk so he can learn the ways of chiefdom- something he is unsure that he even wants.

Entering the great hall after a large exhale, Hiccup looks around, searching for something lips pursing when he can’t find it immediately. It is only when he walks closer to where his father is sat, calling out pleasantries to those who greet him on the way that his eyes lock onto your figure, listening intently to what Ruffnut and Tuffnut are saying. Following the movements of their arms with your eyes as they spoke animatedly about who knows what. Hiccup finds a small smile appear on his face at the sight of you, only looking away when his father claps a hand behind his back making him aware of his surroundings, turning towards his father struggling to listen to whatever issue his father needs resolving around Berk this time, his thoughts still surrounding his best friend, knowing that as long as you are here he can be himself, just Hiccup. As that was always more than enough for you and that idea alone makes him feel less like an outsider.

2. Missing you when apart

He was starting to regret saying you couldn’t come with him. Not that he doesn’t enjoy Astrid and (sometimes) Snotlout’s company, but it clearly isn’t the same. While he usually enjoys scouting missions as they are a peaceful opposition to the dangerous missions they have had as of late, you typically come with him. 

But he knows that you cannot leave the edge defenceless and Astrid was complaining about not getting out with Stormfly enough- so it all made sense logically for Astrid to come instead and for you to stay on land, protecting the dragon eye lenses the group had hidden.

He couldn’t trust anyone more which is why he was confused as to why he felt so anxious. Even Toothless could notice the angst radiating off his rider, making a noise of questioning at Hiccup when he was quieter than normal, not even going over the route the group were scouting- something he usually did a hundred times until the group got annoyed at him. Not even playfully joking with Snotlout about who was the better cousin until Astrid would make a comment that would set Snotlout off arguing with her.

Instead, the three riders sat in somewhat awkward silence with Astrid and Snotlout starting at each other trying to gauge if the other knew what was wrong with the boy and who was going to ask him as seemingly neither wanted to as usually you would look after Hiccup when he got like this but you were back on the edge and honestly Astrid was wishing she didn’t kick up such a fuss about her and Stormfly’s lack of action as even being bored back on the edge was better than being sat in this haunting silence.

It was only upon returning to the edge that the two saw his mood pick up, he nearly crashed Toothless into the ground at the speed he dismounted causing the other two to look around in panic until they saw him running towards you and then it all made sense. The two snickering slightly as they realised that he was only in a foul mood because you weren't around.  

3. You looking after him when he gets sick

“It was only a matter of time” you muttered to him as you bundled him up in his blankets and he knew that you were right, you had been telling him for weeks to wear some warmer clothes during his flights with Toothless and his lack of listening has left him bedridden with a horrible cold, head pounding, nose blocked and red cheeks. He could only imagine the state of him somehow shaking and sweating all at the same time. He would’ve replied with something teasing if his throat didn’t feel so scratchy so he simply settled for a huff which made you laugh quietly in return. 

“Okay, I will stop being mean, but only if you get some sleep” you reasoned with the boy as he whined at the idea thinking of everything he had to today 

“I will get Astrid and Fishlegs to take your jobs for the day- can't have you getting any sicker what would your Father say?” you continued and at these words, the boy stopped fussing, the exhaustion finally catching up to him. 

“Have a good sleep Hiccup, I will be here when you wake up,” you muttered as he dozed off.

 For some reason, Hiccup couldn’t understand those words made him feel so much better.  

4. When his dad mentions you

Small talk with his father even after all this time was still somewhat awkward, like the feeling of your skin being too big for your bones. But, it was much better than it used to be or at least Hiccup usually believed it was. Still, today he would give anything to be anywhere but sit with his dad in their family home as he couldn’t stop going on about you and possibly betrothals something Hiccup knew would annoy you.

“I heard a lot of the boys around here want to ask for her hand, so maybe you should get a move on” Stoick spoke trying to hint at the boy's clear feelings for you

“I- what?” Hiccup asked confused, when had he ever shown interest in that?

“Oh it's nothing” Stoick tried to cover his tracks feeling Hiccups in annoyance at his words ‘you two just remind me of myself and a special someone when I was younger” 

“What are you and Gobber? I’m sure she will be very flattered by those words Dad” Hiccup laughed before quickly taking his leave before his father could sprout out any more nonsense. 

“Me and your mother” Stoick muttered but Hiccup was already gone, probably halfway back to the edge due to how fast he bolted out the door.  

5. The realisation

Watching you interact with Toothless was one of Hiccup's favourite things to do. Seeing his dragon take a shine to you just as much as he does makes a warmth spread all over his body in a comforting way. 

“Hiccup, my brother! What’s happening?” Tuffnut called out as he made his way towards the boy Hiccup quickly looked away from you for some reason embarrassed to be nearly caught by the boy, his cheeks red and hot

“Not- not a lot” Hiccup tried to smile but it came off uneasy much like his words. To his luck, Tuffnut didn't seem to notice instead looking at where Hiccup had his eyes trained just moments before before looking back at the boy 

“Don’t worry I see” Tuffnut nodded in understanding causing Hiccup to become confused 

“See what?” he questioned the peculiar boy 

“You were finally building up the courage to ask her out!” Tuffnut declared “I mean it’s about time everyone knows you have the biggest crush on her! Don’t let me stop you, in fact, I wasn't even here!” the boy quickly ran off as Hiccup's thoughts whirled around his brain about what on earth was Tuffnut on about he didn’t have a crush on you. No way. I mean sure you are the first person he looks for in a crowd of people, he gets irritable when you aren't with him on missions, you are the only one he would want looking after him and his father loves you but that doesn't mean he likes you right- your his best friend he couldn't possibly- could he? 

Then it hit Hiccup, he did have the biggest crush on his best friend, more than a crush really. He was irrevocably in love with you and to make matters worse Tuffnut knew before he did.  

[redeemingvillains]

the black lake - mattheo riddle

summary: mattheo is hogwarts' triwizard tournament champion, and he's proven that he can crush the competition. but when the stakes are raised, and you're involved, nothing will get in his way.

word count: 2.3k

a/n: this was was so fun to think about! lots of references to goblet of fire! lots of swearing, matty is not a happy camper in this one. enjoy ♡

Obviously this boy would put his name in the Goblet of Fire (all of the boys did) and there would be a lot of feelings about him being chosen as the Hogwarts champion, lots of accusations about him rigging the selection (he probably did). But he'd definitely crush the competition, especially when he had the right motivation...

ˋ°•*⁀➷

It's the morning of the second task, the day crisp and frosty, creating puffs of air as Mattheo huffed in exertion, marching down to the Black Lake surrounded by his friends. Suffice to say, he was pissed. It was fucking frigid outside and he hadn't seen you all morning, the combination enough to set him dangerously on edge.

You'd told him you'd come spend the night with him, and if nothing else you always ate breakfast together, so when you didn't show up last night and you were nowhere to be found this morning he was furious that you'd blown him off. Now he was spending his entire walk from the castle to the lake ruminating over it, piling on every perceived slight over the last few days, including the way he saw you talking to a group of guys from Durmstrang in the Great Hall yesterday, causing him to involuntarily curl his hands into fists at his side.

His friends walked beside him, surrounding him in a sort of semicircle, but moving in complete silence; they knew better than to try to say anything to him when he was in a mood like this. Before long, Pansy came running to meet them, nearly out of breath as she said, exasperated, "I couldn't fucking find her. She's not anywhere in our dormitory, in the library, I don't know where she's gone." Concern and frustration laced her voice as she looked at the group and then up at Mattheo.

This wasn't like you.

You had been Mattheo's #1 supporter throughout the whole tournament, helping him prepare, cheering him on, jumping into his arms the moment he'd defeated his dragon, and generally always glued to his side. In fact, you were always glued to all of their sides, the group of you being nearly inseparable, so having you missing made all of the boys feel shifty and on edge as they looked at one another.

Fear bloomed in Mattheo's chest. And the feeling of fear when it came to you did not sit well with him. He didn't want to feel afraid, to feel vulnerable when it came to you, so he opted to shove the feeling down, keeping instead with anger which was much easier and more natural to him.

"I don't have time for this" he muttered, quickening his pace as they all scrambled to keep up with him.

The biting wind whipped through his dark curls and stung his cheeks as he stood on the platform above the lake, staring into the middle-distance of the dark and choppy waves. Students and staff alike were cheering and shouting their encouragement for their champions, but he was completely zoned out, his mind bouncing back and forth between your lingering absence and the task ahead of him. He only perked up when Dumbledore's loud voice rang out over the crowd.

"Welcome to the second task!" it radiated.

"Last night something was stolen from each of our champions, a treasure of sorts—"

Mattheo's heart plummeted so fast into his stomach that he subconsciously grasped at his chest. A treasure? There wasn't a thing he owned that he valued enough to call a treasure, not a single thing in his life that held that much weight... except you. You were undeniably his treasure. He looked back into the murky water of the Black Lake... it couldn't be... he thought ... surely they wouldn't... as Dumbledore's voice continued.

"—These four treasures, one for each champion, now lie on the bottom of the Black Lake—" Mattheo's stomach lurched with what little breakfast he'd been able to eat as his eyes shot to Pansy's in the crowd in enough time to see her clasp her hand to her mouth as she pieced the situation together.

"—In order to win, each champion need only find their treasure and return to the surface. Simple enough. Except for this. They will have but one hour to do so and one hour only. After that, they'll be on their own. No magic will save them."

Mattheo's feet were moving before Dumbledore said another word, sprinting towards the water because fuck this stupid tournament, and fuck the geezer for thinking he could take you away from him, that he could put you in danger.

"You may begin at the sound of the cannon."

BOOM!

Mattheo heard the blast as his body hit the water, diving headfirst into the waves without bothering to cast a spell, without a care to what he'd find within the foreboding depths.

The cold shocked his system, but his heart was hammering for plenty of other reasons as he pulled his body through the fierce current, his strong arms and legs working against the waves.

For a minute he was surrounded in dark nothingness. He could feel rather than see that he wasn't alone in the water, occasionally sensing something moving on either side of him, but he didn't have time, you didn't have time for him to care. His lungs started to burn and he pressed his wand to his neck, casting a spell frantically so as not to waste another second.

After swimming at an impossible pace for so long he wondered if there even was a bottom to the lake, he heard an ethereal sound, like singing and changed course to swim towards it, which brought him to a large clearing where he could see merpeople swimming around. The few nearest him whipped their heads toward him, surprised at his presence as they turned to face him fully. He dared them, dared any fucking one of them to come near him, welcomed it actually, a chance to take out his rage, but they steered clear, perhaps sensing it would be a losing battle despite the tritons they carried and their razor-sharp teeth.

He swam on, his muscles straining, aching with the exertion of pulling his weight through the thick water at such an unwavering and desperate pace, but the feeling faded, drained from him, as four distinct figures came into view, four bodies, tethered and floating in the water, their hair moving eerily around their faces, their bodies stiff and still, like corpses.

He identified you immediately and he swam harder and harder until he was close enough to touch you. He brushed a hand against your cheek; your skin held a blueish tint and your face was expressionless, void of the smile that you always had for him, that reached your eyes, that lit up your face, the absence of it was enough to make his eyes sting in a way that had nothing to do with the brackish water.

He grasped your stiff form, the resistance of your body against his continuing to mess with his mind as he sent a spell to sever the rope that secured you and tried not to think about how rigid you felt in his arms.

His ability to breath underwater didn't matter for shit, because he was certain he didn't breath the entire way back, climbing harder and harder as he carried your weight with him, desperate to reach the surface, desperate to save you, thinking the entire time how fucking foolish he'd been to spend even one second mad at you today.

Finally, he could see the light of the surface, the grey clouds in the sky reflecting in the waves, and after a final series of strong kicks he broke through the current.

Immediately, he felt you come alive again in his arms, spluttering and coughing as you grasped for him.

"M-Matty!?" you said hysterically, the cold and fear in your voice setting his heart in a vice as your eyes fluttered open and you looked around in confusion at your surroundings. "What happened?! Where—?!"

"—It's okay, you're okay, you're safe" he said, pulling you against him, keeping you both afloat even as you rocked in the waves and he gasped deeply for air.

"C'mere, c'mon" he said, swimming with you in his embrace towards the platform, anxious to get you out of the freezing water.

The crowd had erupted into cheers when you'd breached the surface, and they were announcing that Mattheo was the champion by a long shot, not having been in the water for more than 20 minutes, the other champions still completely unaccounted for. But hearing talk of the competition and seeing everyone's ignorance about the whole situation as they clapped and smiled was pushing him to his limit as he hoisted you up to Pansy who greeted you with a thick towel.

Mattheo pulled himself out of the water, barely taking time to wrap a towel around his shoulders before grabbing three more and pulling them around you. You laughed under the heavy bundle, even as your shivering continued uncontrollably. "I-I'm okay, I-I'm okay" you said, trying to reassure him, even as you noticed that he wouldn't meet your eyes.

"Buncha fucking idiots" you heard him muttering as he rubbed your arms before he stooped down and swept you off your feet bridal style, one hand around your waist, the other holding on to your legs. The crowd cheered again, erupting in a sigh of "awws" at the gesture until he began barreling towards them.

"Matty?" you asked, concerned, "Where are we—?"

"—Anywhere but here" he growled as people began pushing each other to get out of his way.

"Mr. Riddle!" McGonagall chided, chasing after you both as you watched her from over his shoulder, urging him to stop as a couple of other professors followed in pursuit.

He veered towards the raised platform where the headmasters were seated, coming to a brief stop in front of Dumbledore who had stood to his feet.

"You are out of your fucking mind!" Mattheo spat at him.

Several people around you gasped, even Igor Karkaroff had the wherewithal to look surprised, impressed even, before Mattheo walked away, marching right off the platform and back towards the school as the entire crowd watched you go.

You could tell Mattheo was tired, beyond tired, physically, emotionally; you could feel his arms shaking against your weight.

"Matty, I can walk, it's okay" you said quietly, but he wouldn't let you go, wouldn't set you down, wouldn't even respond to you or meet your eyes. So you resigned yourself to resting your head on his shoulder, nuzzling against his neck which seemed to relax him a bit.

He carried you all the way to his room, making his way to the bathroom where he finally set you down and immediately began running you a hot bath. Wordlessly, he found a towel and a set of his clothes for you to wear, placing them at the edge of the tub before leaving without a word, closing the door gently behind him.

You looked anxiously at the closed door, aware that something was very very wrong, but also acknowledging that he might need a minute, and that you still couldn't feel the tips of your fingers or toes, so you resigned yourself to the hot water.

It felt heavenly, as did washing the muck of the lake off your skin and out of your hair. You reveled in the smell of his soap, like cedar and evergreen, but you were too anxious to sit there any longer than necessary, quickly pulling on his sweatpants and sweatshirt that engulfed your frame as you toweled your hair dry and pushed the door open.

Mattheo was seated at the edge of his bed, still dripping wet, his body shaking noticeably as he stared at the ground. He glanced up when he heard you, visibly relaxing a bit as he took in your warm, rosy cheeks and your soft smile, his mind flashing for only a moment to your unsmiling rigid form floating in the water, trying to reconcile that version of you with the one in front of him.

You approached him slowly, moving to stand between his legs as you took his face in your warm hands, tilting it to look at you. He had a strained, puzzled expression on his face as his eyes drank you in before his hands came to rest on your waist.

"Babe—" you started.

"—I love you" he said.

Your heart somersaulted over the words you'd never heard him say before as you let out a small breath, your hand moving to cover your mouth in shock as your eyes widened.

"I'm-I'm a fucking wreck for you" he continued, laughing humorlessly as he shook his head. "Today... really fucked me up. I thought I'd lost you, I thought..." he paused, getting quiet "...The way you looked down there, alone, miles under the water, surrounded by all sorts of shit" he shook his head harder like he could unlive the memory of it all.

"I should have told you sooner, because I've known for awhile, for a long fucking time, but I've been too scared to say it, too scared that you don't remotely feel the same way, but that doesn't matter anymore, nothing fucking matters other than you hearing me say it, today, every day, I love you, YN." His eyes met yours finally, wide and sincere. "With everything I've got, I love you."

"I love you too!—" you whispered, and the words were barely out of your mouth before he pressed his cold lips to yours, pulling you into him so tightly you let out an involuntary squeak as your arms moved to wrap around his neck and he fell backwards onto his bed, continuing to mumble against your lips "Iloveyou, loveyou, I loveyou", smushing your kisses with his affectionate words until you were laughing with joy, the sound finally reassuring him that you were his, and that you were okay.

♡

@kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii, @darlingshecried, @girlblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen

[lyrefromthesea]

Blind reader x hashira + kokushibo? (since she's blind she doesn't know he's a demon?)

Please 🙃

Male hashira (+ Kokushibo) x Reader - Blindness is something I can overlook

author's note: fun fact, i am partially colorblind.

pairing: Tengen x reader, Obanai x reader, Rengoku x reader, Sanemi x reader, Giyuu x reader, Gyomei x reader

content warning: none

Tengen:

"i like these.." you told him, holding a small chain of jewelry in your hands. the man looked over your shoulder, a content hum leaving him.

normally, people wouldn't take a blind person to shop for accessories with them, but Tengen didn't seem to care. in fact, he had appeared quite eager to take you with him.

now here you were, trying to find a "flashy" - as he'd like to call it - accessory for him. not knowing how they looked, you decided to feel them instead.

some of them were lightly sharp, sure to leave small scratches on his skin. others were rounded and had a smooth surface. you preferred them over the sharp jewelry, but weren't happy with those either.

finally, when your hand brushed over diverse stones, you felt content with the jewelery you've found. it felt like a rope in your hand, but it was made out of small cold stones, which were the perfect mix of smoothness and sharpness.

they varied in size and shape, leaving a good impression on you. especially since they reminded you of the big stones on his headband. when you told him that you liked them, his eyes lit up.

"there's another one here." he said, taking the second chain into his hand. the cool color of the new accessory matched the pink diamonds he already wore.

"they're perfect, beautiful." he told you, giving the cashier a handful of money. he didn't wait to get the rest of his money back, too focused on the gift you've found him.

"are you just saying that or do you mean it?" you ask, yet you smiled right after, knowing that he was being honest when he talked to you.

"they're great - flashy. i'll make sure to wear them everywhere." he was already attaching them to the side of his headband, determined to keep his promise true.

yet you were only focused on the softness that had sneaked into his voice, showing his appreciation for the newfound treasure.

Obanai:

he didn't mind your blindness, welcomed it even. he would've never admitted it to you, never told you - knowing it would probably hurt your feelings.

but he felt it was better that way, better for you not to see him. he was hideous and he knew it.

so why, after years of insecurity, he allowed someone to see his state of weakness. his heart nearly sunk when you asked him to let you see him.

he had told you it wasn't important, that he just needed to be there for you, but you had insisted and he couldn't deny you a single wish.

now he held himself back from moving away, his heart beating faster as he saw your hands nearing his uncovered face.

yet the contrast of his feelings and the soft warmth of your touch left him puzzled. you were sitting right next to him, hands cupping his cheek. more importantly, your thumbs were carefully tracing over his scars.

he knew you could feel the difference under your thumb, could feel how different he was from other people. part of him had expected you to leave him after finding out how hideous he truly looked.

"you're beautiful.." you whispered, his eyes widening like they've never done before. he was left speechless by your words, swallowing down his fear to respond.

"you don't have to lie." he answered, voice unstable. he couldn't believe that someone could love him, not when he was like this.

"i wish i could see you with my eyes." his trembling hands touched yours, squeezing them just lightly. he knew how much those words meant, you had never spoken them out before.

and it wasn't only your wish. he could feel the desire to make you see swell up in his own chest. to imagine that he thought differently before - it felt stupid to him now.

Rengoku:

"open your mouth and close your eyes!" he instructed, making you halt.

did he just? he did not, right? ..right?

"Kyojuro..?" you carefully said his name, making the man answer with a hum. he still held his spoon in hand, having wanted to give you a bite of his food.

you raised your hand, waving it in front of your face. it took him a moment to catch on, realizing that his words had been stupid to the core.

"oh- i certainly didn't-" he stopped when he heard you snort, wide eyes watching you smile and laugh. his heart started beating faster, his cheeks flushing.

you clearly weren't mad or disappointed, but he felt embarrassed for forgetting something so obvious. the words slipped out of his mouth before he could even register it.

"it's fine, don't worry." you answered, putting a comforting hand on his. you leaned forward, taking the spoon into your mouth and chewing on the food before swallowing it down.

"is that sashimi? it's really good." you complimented, the note of wasabi still lingering on your tongue.

"do you want me to order some more?" he asked, turning his hand around to hold yours. you hummed, a small smile forming on your face.

days like these were your favourite - the perfect mix of romantic and silly.

Sanemi:

"it should be around here.." you mumbled, pulling the white haired man with you. his eyes were fixated on your surroundings, trying to figure out what exactly drove you towards this place.

"ah- can you smell it?" you gasped, turning your head towards the right, trying to pick up on the floral scent lingering in the air.

"no.." he answered, shaking his head lightly. no matter what he thought off, he couldn't come up with a reason why you'd bring him here.

nevertheless, his legs continued moving, not because he was necessarily interested, but because he wanted to make you happy.

that's why his eyes widened when you walked past multiple trees, reaching a giant flower field.

now he understood what you were talking about, the floral aroma enveloping his senses. he felt you letting go of his hand, leaning down to pick one of the flowers and smell on it.

the field was beautiful, full of the prettiest flowers he had ever seen. however, he realized that was a sight you'd never experience, slowly lowering himself in the grass next to you.

he took one of the flowers, mimicking your actions and breathing in it's scent. if you couldn't see what he was seeing, he could at least try experiencing the same as you.

"it's beautiful.."

Giyuu:

"like this." his voice was quiet, but it sounded much thicker and lower than the night's silence. he had asked you to show him your hand, but when you asked how, he guided it into the correct position.

your palm was facing him, fingers feeling the wind brush between them, teasing you with light touches and the surrounding silence.

you felt his hand on yours, his fingers brushing over your palm, gently drawing different forms onto your skin.

"it tickles.." you whispered, a quiet chuckle escaping you when he started tapping along your skin. a gentle huff escaped him, the one that made you know he was smiling.

"that's how i feel when i see you.." he answered, his hand finally pressing against yours, fingers interlocking in a gentle hold.

you silently scooted closer, the night's air sending a comfortable chill over your body. it didn't take him long to hold you closer, letting his body's warmth settle into your skin.

"you make me feel ticklish all around.. sometimes i worry i won't be able to think when i see you." he admitted, coaxing a smile out of you.

he didn't mind that you couldn't see, because he could see your beauty either way.

Gyomei:

some might say it would be ironic for two blind people to fall in love or befriend each other, but it certainly worked out for the two of you.

you admired his strength and he admired yours. truthfully, he hadn't noticed you at first, hadn't questioned why you used another weapon than the other demon slayers, but it all made sense when he found out about your blindness.

"this is your weapon of choice?" he had asked when the two of you joined a mission. he held a long rope dart in his hand - your treasure. Haganezuka had created the weapon for you.

the usually normal rope was made out of a thin chain, helping you coordinate throughout the fight. naturally, Gyomei who also used a special weapon, was intrigued by it.

"due to my lack of strength, it's the only suitable weapon for me." you answered, your fingers tracing over the axe he carried around with him. it was much heavier than your weapon, fitting for the man, who was much taller than you.

"it is a good choice indeed. i admire your critical thinking skills." he admitted, a smile displaying on his face.

and though you would sadly never see the happy look he'd give you in the future, you certainly liked the content tone of his voice.

Kokushibo:

he didn't remember his former loved ones. he didn't remember his wife. he didn't remember his child. their faces were a blur that he had created himself.

but you weren't. you were well. you were alive. he didn't need to remember the past when he could enjoy the presence with you.

his own human, the one he swore to protect. perhaps the gods have blessed him this time around, just like they had blessed his damned brother before.

the one person Kokushibo yearned to have just had to be a human. his surprise when he realized you weren't able to see was immaculate. he felt compassionate. and relieved.

"greetings.." the male spoke, stepping through the small gate of your house. the area was surrounded by wisteria, but like the gods had wanted him to find you, they left a small path for him.

"Kokushibo, it's you!" you smiled, standing up and letting go of the flowers in your hand. it took some time, but you managed to grow some in your garden.

the demon watched you move towards him, affectionately taking his hand like you've known each other forever. "you came back earlier this time."

"i happened to have a bit of free time.." he answered, low voice filling you with contentedness. while he made sure to look at you, his other eyes glanced at the garden.

the world could be dangerous for a blind person, but you've built your own small paradise between the rows of poisonous trees.

"let's get you inside, it's quite cold." you said, leading him towards the entrance of your very own home.

he wondered if he could keep up this facade of trust or if you would hate him after you've found out that the enemy stood in your house.

[jazziejax]

𝐉𝐮𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐧’ 𝐕𝐈

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - Modern AU | Elias ‘Stack’ Moore x Black!OC & Elijah ‘Smoke’ Moore | Modern AU

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 - Lines blur on a hot summer day when Juicy finds herself caught between what feels good, what feels right, and the one man she hasn’t figured out how to let go of—yet.

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 - 18+!!! Suggestive content, intense romantic tension, strong language, heavy makeout, handjob, spit, slightly emotionally vulnerable conversations

𝐉𝐚𝐳𝐳𝐢𝐞’𝐬 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬 - 😛, also, this was originally going to be one chapter but I had to split it up into two, so the next chapter shouldn’t take this long. Okay, I’ve been going to multiple graduations, sorry! I hope you guys enjoy this, I love hearing from all of you and appreciate your feedback greatly. Thank you for reading and leave a comment PLEASE!

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 - 11,854+

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 - ˖°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐌𝐚𝐲 𝟐𝟖𝐭𝐡, 𝟐𝟎𝟎𝟑 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐬𝐨𝐧, 𝐌𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐩𝐩𝐢

Juicy sat still as stone beneath the blazing sun, her gold-rimmed shades shielding her eyes—but not her thoughts. They were loud. Loud enough to drown out Mary’s chattering, the splashes from the pool, and whatever song was thumping low through somebody’s boombox across the yard. Her arms were folded across her chest, pushing her breasts up in a way she didn’t even realize, her glossed lips set in a tight pout, eyes glued—though she pretended not to be—to the mess unfolding across the pool. Smoke was still entertaining Anika like he had no home training and no memory of the things he said just last night. The nerve of him.

And though Juicy would never let him—or anyone else—see her bothered, she was. That same little ache was blooming in her chest again, heavy and sour, until she heard a voice smooth as satin, dipped in just enough trouble to make her heart skip.

“Well, well, well.’ Stack drawled, his skin catching the sun as he walked up, a slow smile tugging at his lips as he locked eyes with her. “And what could possibly be wrong with the princess on this fine-ass day?”

His voice was teasing, but warm and low enough to cut through all the noise clouding her mind. Juicy turned her head slightly but didn’t lift her shades. Not yet. Her lips curved into a slow, reluctant smile, the first real one she’d cracked since that little display Smoke put on. She had an idea.

“Nothing.” She said, voice soft, nearly sweet.

Stack grinned, pleased by the answer even though he knew better. He lowered himself onto the end of her lounge chair and she didn’t stop him. In fact, she sat up slowly and scooted down just enough to close the space between them. One of her legs curled behind him on the chair, the other planted on the ground beside his, practically cocooning him in her presence. Her warm cheek rested on his shoulder like a pillow, the glitter on her skin catching in the sunlight and dusting across his skin like fairy dust.

Stack blinked.

Damn. He wasn’t sure what spell she was casting, but he was more than willing to fall under it. His hand drifted to her knee, his thumb absentmindedly stroking over her skin as he tried to play it cool. “And what’s got you all touchy-feely today?” He asked, dipping his head slightly to try and catch a better view of her face. But with her shades on, she was still unreadable.

“Nothing.” She said again, but there was a softness to it this time. A little breath behind the word. Then came the quiet sigh.

She lifted her head from his shoulder, turning it just enough to rest her chin there instead, her lips mere inches from his ear. She tilted her face toward him slowly, until their eyes met through her tinted lenses. When she slid the shades up from the bridge of her nose, those big brown eyes blinked up at him, glossy and deep and full of something he hadn’t seen from her in a long time.

Longing. Need.

“It’s just that…” She whispered, trailing off before she gathered the nerve to ask, “Are we not gonna talk about last night?”

Stack’s stomach dropped at that, but in the best way.

That mouth of hers. Those eyes. The way she said it so damn softly, like he was the only person in the world who knew her secrets. The same girl who used to clown on him in front of the crew was now cuddled up next to him with her lip gloss shining like diamonds and her perfume all sweet and floral. He’d be lying if he said his mind didn’t go right back to the night before. Her on top of him on her couch. Her hands on his chest. The way she looked at him when she said his name.

Stack cleared his throat, shifting slightly on the lounge chair, eyes darting to the side to make sure nobody caught on to the sudden rise in his shorts. The last thing he needed was someone’s auntie at the pool giving him the side-eye while sipping her wine cooler.

“Damn, girl.” He muttered under his breath, lips curving into a lopsided grin as he shook his head. “You tryna make a man lose all his composure in public?” He asked.

Juicy giggled, low and sweet, hiding her smile behind her fingers like she hadn’t just turned his whole damn world upside down with that soft pout on her lips. She smelled like vanilla and coconut.

“So?” She asked again, her voice lower now, just for him. “We not gonna talk about it?”

Stack tilted his head, brushing his fingers up and down her thigh in slow, lazy strokes, his touch deliberate, his eyes half-lidded. He watched the way her skin pebbled under his fingertips, goosebumps rising despite the summer heat.

“I mean…” He drawled, voice thick as honey. ‘What you wanna say? You wanna talk about how you kissed me? Or what was finna happen on the couch if Sinclair didn’t walk in?”

Juicy rolled her eyes, but her smile deepened, her cheek pressing to his shoulder again a magnet attracted to metal. She wasn’t tryna revisit Sinclair or what stopped them—she was focused on what happened before that. What almost was. “You kissed me first, Stack.” Her voice was soft but certain, like she wanted that part on record.

He chuckled, his thumb stroking circles against her skin. “Okay, but you kissed back.”

Her heart thudded loud and deep in her chest, an echo in her ears. But she didn’t shy away. “I did.” She admitted, turning her head just enough to meet his gaze, her fingers now tracing slow, absentminded patterns across the muscles of his back. Her nails grazed over his skin, light as air. “And…I’d do it again.” She mumbled softly.

And she meant it.

What had started as a petty distraction—a way to keep her eyes off Smoke across the pool with that raggedy little pick-me Anika—had quickly turned into something else. She wasn’t thinking about them now. Not when she was wrapped around Stack like this, not when his scent—the heavy musk of his cologne and cocoa butter—was messing with her head.

Stack looked down at her, eyes heavy with something deeper. Her words lingered in the air between them like the humidity. His flirting made him swallow hard, caught off guard by her honesty, but he was not about to let the moment slip through his fingers. “We can do that whenever and wherever you want, darling.” He charmed, his country drawl deepening, slow and rich like molasses.

Juicy grinned at that, humming low and sweet, rubbing her hand against his bare back again, taking her time now. She liked the way he said ‘darling’, like the way he talked to her. She liked that she brought it out of him. “Okay…but first.” She teased, shifting forward until her chest pressed lightly against his thigh. “You have to let me apply this sunscreen to you.” She said as she leaned across him, her arm stretching toward her oversized straw beach bag with the bamboo handles. Her body curved against him perfectly, warm and soft. Her plump chest brushed his leg, sending a jolt of awareness through his core.

Stack groaned lightly, trying to distract himself from the feeling of her. “Baby, I’m Black, I don’t need no sunscreen.”

“Everyone needs sunscreen, Stack.” She said, pulling the bottle from her bag with a triumphant grin. “Don’t believe everything that you hear.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Well, I can say the same for what you’re sayin’.” He stated, causing Juicy to let out a small laugh. She sat up straighter now, her glasses pushed high on her slick, honey-colored bun as she gave him a pointed look, brows arched. The glare had bite, but it only made him grin. “You just wanna rub all on me.” He accused playfully.

Juicy laughed, cracking the cap on the sunscreen bottle. “I don’t need an excuse to rub up on you.” She said, voice sliding into something velvet and slow, a little seductive. She squirted a dollop into her palm, rubbing her hands together as Stack watched, captivated. “Do I?” She asked, cocking her head as if he didn’t already know. She paused, her hands outstretched and coated in lotion, sunlight bouncing off her golden-brown skin. “You already said it.” He replied smoothly, smirking.

Stack licked his lips and leaned forward a bit, ready as she began rubbing the lotion into his back. Her touch was firm but tender, working the sunscreen in slow, deliberate circles. The heat of her hands, the closeness of her body—it was intimate in a way that felt almost too much for public, but neither of them cared. He let his eyes drift closed for a moment, savoring the feel of her fingers trailing over his skin, his muscles twitching beneath her touch.

Juicy took her time, fingers sliding over his shoulders and down his spine. She didn’t miss the way he sighed quietly, or the way his body leaned into her just a little more. She was pouring all the affection she wasn’t sure how to say into her hands.

And across the pool, Smoke saw it all.

Anika had left moments ago, said something about needing another drink, or fixing her lipstick, he didn’t know. He didn’t even care, but now she was gone, and he had a clear view of Juicy and Stack.

His brother. His girl.

He didn’t feel jealous. Not exactly. This wasn’t the kind of thing that stirred that in him. But still—he couldn’t look away.

There was something about the way Juicy was taking care of Stack that got to him. The soft looks, the lingering touches, the genuine laughter. It wasn’t just flirtation—it was something deeper that he could see lingering between them. And she looked good doing it all.

Her skin shimmered under the sun, glinting with flecks of glitter from that perfume Mary had gifted her for Christmas—the one he remembered because she always saved it for days she wanted to feel extra pretty. She had her legs wrapped around Stack’s side like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And Stack looked…happy. Soft, even.

Smoke stared for a moment longer, his drink halfway to his lips, then slowly turned his attention away.

Whatever that was between them, it was unfolding whether he liked it or not.

And Juicy didn’t even notice Smoke looking. Not anymore. She was too busy rubbing lotion into the warm skin of the man holding her.

The sun hung in the sky, golden and sticky like honey, casting a soft white sheen on everything it touched. The air was thick with the scent of chlorine, grilled ribs, and the unmistakable sweetness of Juicy’s perfume that still clung to her skin like dew. Her fingers were slick with sunscreen, the coolness of the lotion stark against the warm curve of Stack’s back as she rubbed it in slow, deliberate circles. “Damn,” Stack murmured, his voice lower now, raspier. “You gon’ take your time or you tryna get me worked up on purpose?”

Juicy smiled, her lip gloss catching the sun as she leaned in closer, her lips a breath away from his ear. “What if I am?” She whispered, rubbing her palms over the dip in his spine, down to the V of his waist before gliding back up again, her movements just slow enough to make his jaw clench. “Is it working?”

Stack exhaled, his hand flexing against his thigh. “You playin’ a dangerous game, baby.”

“I’m not playin’.” She said, moving to his arms now, turning slightly so she could kneel on the chair beside him. She lifted one of his arms by the wrist and began coating his bicep in smooth strokes, fingers gliding over muscle like she was memorizing the shape of him. “You the one who wanted me to do this, remember?”

“Correction.” Stack said, watching her through hooded eyes. “You insisted. Said it was medically necessary.”

“It is.” She grinned, biting her lip as she moved to the other arm. “Skin cancer don’t give a damn about how fine you are.”

He chuckled at that, low and amused. “So I’m fine now?”

“You been fine.” She replied with a shrug, smoothing the lotion over his forearm, teasingly running her thumb along his wrist. “But don’t let it go to your head.”

Too late.

Stack was already halfway gone, trying his best to sit still while her fingers trailed over his skin like a slow-burning fuse. And Juicy—Lord, Juicy was taking her time with it. When she shifted in the lounge chair in front of him, her knees brushing the outside of his thighs, he damn near forgot where he was. Her touch was slow, circular, and she moved with deliberate care because she didn’t want to rush. She wasn’t sure when she started enjoying this more than she should’ve. It was just sunscreen, she told herself. Just sunscreen. Nothing more.

But by the time she made it to his arms—one thick and relaxed against his thigh, the other resting behind him—Stack had turned his head slightly, catching her in profile. She was focused, biting her bottom lip as she rubbed the lotion into his bicep, her long nails grazing him lightly.

“Let me take you out.” He said, not even leaving room for disagreement within his demand.

Juicy’s fingers froze for a half-second, her eyes snapping up to his. “Huh?”

“Let me take you out on a date, Journee.” He said, his voice smooth and firm, calling her by her real name.

Her laugh came out soft, breathy, almost involuntary. It caught her by surprise, because everything hit her at once. The use of her real name, which felt like something sacred now, something intimate. The weight of his words. The idea of a date, like this—whatever this was between them—was turning into something real. Something intentional. All while her hands were gliding over his warm, tattooed arms, trailing over words and symbols inked into his skin. Her fingers didn’t stop moving, almost like she was trying to distract herself from what he just said. Or the way he was staring at her like she was all he could see.

She reached for more sunscreen, rubbing her palms together, readying to press them onto his chest when he caught her wrist gently.

“You not gon’ answer me?” Stack asked, low and soft, his thumb brushing slow against the inside of her wrist. Juicy stilled as the air between them thickened. She looked at him fully now, the shimmer of her body mist glinting in the sun as her lip gloss caught the light. Her voice came quieter this time, more careful. “Wait… what?” She asked. “Are you for real?”

“Yes.” He said without pause, his eyes locked on hers. They flickered between her brown eyes and her full lips, searching her, but not pushing. Juicy looked at him for a long second, trying to find a tell of some joke, some smirk, some sort of game, but there was none. His face was relaxed, his expression soft. His eyes were the kind of gentle she wasn’t used to. The kind that made you feel seen and touched without even laying a hand.

“Stack, are you serious?” She asked, her voice rising just slightly with disbelief.

“Yes.” He said again, slower this time.

“Stack.”

“What?”

“Stack?!”

“What?!”

“Oh my goodness.” Juicy giggled, her grin finally breaking wide. “Yes! Yes, I���ll go on a date with you!”

“Good.” Stack said with a quiet smirk, his grip on her wrist still light but possessive. Like he’d been waiting for this moment, and now that it was here, he didn’t want to let it pass.

Juicy’s first instinct was to hug him—throw her arms around his neck and squeal into his ear like a high school girl in love. But then she remembered the lotion. Her hands were still slick with it. “Oh.” She mumbled with a laugh, shifting back and placing her hands finally on his chest. She swallowed, biting her lip again, this time to keep from gasping, because her hands were now gliding over his pecs, smooth and warm and strong beneath her fingertips. She rubbed slowly, deeply, letting her fingers wander along the defined ridges of his abs. His tattoos stretched beneath her palms, and she traced them subconsciously as she worked the cream in, taking her sweet time now. More than necessary.

Stack leaned back on his hands, chest bare to her, letting her explore with her touch. Juicy was on her knees in the chair, leaning over him slightly, and neither of them noticed the rare glances being thrown their way across the patio—the tension between them was its own kind of gravity. It pulled every glance, every passing whisper, into silence.

But Stack only had eyes for her.

He watched her like he was studying sunlight through stained glass. Tracing her every movement, cataloging every little breath and blink. Her cheeks glowed under the heat, her curls pulled back with just a few tendrils stuck to her neck. And her lips—sticky, glossed, and irresistible—kept pulling his eyes back again and again.

She looked up once, catching him staring, and her breath caught. “What?” She whispered.

“Nothing.” He said, lips curling. “Just tryna remember this.”

“Remember what?” She asked, laughing nervously.

He tilted his head. “The moment you said yes.” He smirked. Juicy’s smile faltered into something softer, and she pressed her palm flat against his chest, her thumb brushing just under his collarbone. “You’re so smooth.” She quipped, rolling her eyes at him.

“I’m serious.” He said, not smiling this time.

“I know.” She whispered.

Stack didn’t say anything after that. He just kept looking at her, the muscle in his jaw flexing slightly as her palm lingered against his chest. Her fingers, still slightly slick with sunscreen, stayed pressed against his warm skin like she wasn’t ready to let go yet. Maybe she didn’t want to. Juicy’s lips parted, and she tilted her head, her eyes skimming over his face, then down his chest again, and then back up to those low-lidded eyes watching her like he had nowhere else in the world to be.

Her heart was thudding against her ribs so loud she was sure he could hear it. The sun had started to dip a little lower now, casting soft amber light across his skin, making the edges of his tattoos glow like they were lit from within. She’d never seen a man look like that—like a damn dream, golden and real all at once.

She looked down again, hand dragging slowly across his chest, brushing over his left pec with more care than she even realized. Her thumb traced the edge of one of his tattoos like she was memorizing it by feel alone. She didn’t know when it had turned into something so intimate, but here they were, breathing in each other’s space, heartbeats lined up and unspoken things passing between them like static.

Stack’s hand moved up and caught the curve of her waist. His fingers didn’t grip, they just rested there, his thumb brushing lazily over the bare skin just above the waistband of her low-rise shorts.

Juicy swallowed as her eyes met his again.

“Why are you lookin’ at me like that?” She asked, voice soft, flirtatious but a little breathless.

“’Cause you’re beautiful.” He said easily. “’Cause I been tryna look at you like this since I met you. And now I can.”

Juicy had no words for that. Not at first.

She just blinked, eyes lingering on his, her breath catching somewhere in her throat. A slow smile tugged at her lips, different from the giddy one earlier. This one was heavier, like she couldn’t believe how soft she felt in that moment. How seen she felt. “You gon’ kiss me or something’?” She asked with a playful tilt of her head, her voice low and thick.

Stack leaned in just a fraction, close enough that his lips were a whisper away from hers. “I told you I was takin’ you out first, didn’t I?”

Juicy laughed softly, shaking her head, eyes twinkling as she leaned back slightly. “Boy, you so corny.”

“You still like it though.” He smirked.

She rolled her eyes with a grin, her hand still resting against his chest, now feeling the steady thump of his heart underneath. “Yeah… I do.” She mumbled.

Stack’s thumb brushed slow over her waist again, his eyes on her lips for a beat too long. They stayed like that for a moment, suspended in that sweet, sticky tension of summer, wrapped in heat and hope and everything new. Juicy let her fingers drag down the center of his chest before finally pulling away, smirking as she reached for the sunscreen bottle again—partly to reset the moment, partly because she needed to do something with her hands before she gave in and climbed into his lap.

“I missed a spot.” She murmured.

Stack smiled, leaned back again, and let her hands find him once more. The air between them was humid and heavy, buzzing like the heat that shimmered off the concrete in waves. The lotion was nearly gone, but Juicy’s hands hadn’t stopped. They moved slow, deliberate, her fingers tracing across Stack’s skin like she was learning him by heart. Stack sat there stiff as stone, his posture and his pants, trying not to let the way she touched him show on his face, but it was no use. His jaw was tight, his breathing was low, and his eyes were glued to her like she was the last sweet thing earth had to offer.

Then, just when he thought she might keep going—maybe slide her hands even lower, maybe straddle his lap, maybe finish what she started—Juicy leaned forward, close enough for him to smell the peach gloss on her lips and the cocoa butter from her palms. She bit her bottom lip and dragged her eyes over his face like she was pulling something from him. Slowly and thoroughly, as if this was all a game and she was five moves ahead.

“I have to use the bathroom.” She said softly.

But it wasn’t the words. It was how she said it. Her gaze bounced between his lips and his eyes, heavy-lidded and warm, and Stack just… froze. Caught in the way her voice melted into the sticky summer air. Like he was under some kinda spell. She slid off the lounge chair, slow and smooth, her thighs brushing his as she stood. Then the sunglasses, those big, dark brown shades she slid on with practiced ease. She slipped her feet into her gold-and-white Baby Phat wedge flip flops and started walking, hips swaying in that hypnotic rhythm she was famous for.

Stack didn’t even register she was gone until she looked back at him, over her shoulder, over the rim of those shades. Her lips parted just enough to catch a glimmer of sun on the gloss, and her fingers flexed outward, an unspoken invitation dangling in the thick summer air.

That’s all it took.

He stood up fast, heart thudding somewhere near his throat. His long strides caught up to her quick, and when her hand reached back for his, he took it without hesitation, his fingers curling around hers like it was second nature. His eyes dropped as she led him toward the community center. He couldn’t help it. All legs and hips and that little sway she had that made his thoughts scatter.

He didn’t care where they were headed. Wherever Juicy was taking him, he was going. Happily.

But as they crossed the pavement, just a few feet from the double doors of the center, Juicy’s eyes caught someone.

Smoke.

He was leaning against the corner of the building, half in shadow, half in sunlight. A cloud of smoke curled up from his lips, the blunt burning low between his fingers. His eyes were heavy-lidded, but sharpened the second they landed on her.

And time seemed to slow.

Stack didn’t see it. Didn’t feel the way her fingers tightened ever so slightly around his hand. Didn’t notice the way her spine straightened or the quick rub of her lips together like she was steadying herself. But Smoke noticed. He didn’t say a word. Didn’t double take or anything. He just watched them, his expression unreadable beneath the haze of weed and heat.

His eyes slid from Juicy’s face to her hand in Stack’s…and then back up again.

And for a split second, there was a flicker of something. It wasn’t jealousy, it wasn’t anger. It was just acknowledgment that he saw her. That he saw them. And maybe he understood exactly what was happening without needing to hear a single word.

Juicy held his gaze briefly, long enough for the silence to say what neither of them would. But she continued, pulling Stack inside with her.

Whatever guilt she should’ve felt—it didn’t exist. Maybe it was because she didn’t care, at least that what she tried to tell herself. Or maybe it was because Smoke didn’t look hurt at what he saw. He didn’t have a look of shock or betrayal on his features.

He just looked… hungry.

Like maybe, if Stack hadn’t been the one she reached for, he would’ve been. And that thought sent a thrill through her chest, pooling hot and dangerous in her belly.

Stack, still unaware of the exchanged glance, followed close behind, admiring the curve of her backside, the sway of her hips, the way her skin glowed in the fluorescent hallway light. He didn’t care where she was taking him.

Juicy smiled to herself as they disappeared into the building. She didn’t stop pulling him until they reached the narrow hallway just before the bathrooms, the area cooler and quieter, nothing but the bass of the cookout music thumping faintly through the walls behind them. The air smelled like deodorant and faint traces of perfume.

Stack barely had time to blink before Juicy spun around and pushed him—hard—against the wall. His back hit the smooth brick plaster with a soft thud, knocking the wind out of him just enough for surprise to flash across his face.

“Damn, girl—”

He couldn’t even finish the sentence.

Juicy pounced like she’d been holding herself back for too long, and her mouth crashed into his with a hungry kind of urgency that made his whole system stutter. Her lips were soft but firm, glossed but not sticky, and she kissed like she meant to take something from him—like she was claiming it.

Stack’s brain stalled, but his body didn’t. Instinct took over.

His hands slid to her waist, strong palms gripping the soft and plush curve of her sides to steady her. Mostly because she was coming at him so wild and fierce, he needed to hold her close just to keep up. She moaned softly against his lips, and something about the sound shot straight through him.

He groaned low in response, right into her mouth.

That’s when he lifted her. His strong arms slid beneath her thighs, hoisting her like she weighed nothing. He never broke the kiss, not once, as he turned and walked her backwards, careful but eager, until her back hit a different stretch of wall, tucked away near the bathroom doors. Secluded enough.

Juicy clung to him, her hands buried in the back of his cornrows, fingertips rubbing at the base of his neck like she could soothe the fire she was feeding. Their kisses grew louder, messier, the wet sounds echoing softly down the hall. But they couldn’t hear it. They couldn’t even bring themselves to care.

They were completely wrapped up in the feel of each other.

She whimpered when he ground her into his crotch—his bulge pressing against the thinnest part of her bathing suit skort, right where she throbbed for him. He swallowed the sound, capturing it with his mouth, deepening the kiss as her legs tightened around his waist.

Stack’s hand slid to her ass, gave it a firm squeeze that made her center clench and her toes curl. If they weren’t careful, they were gonna cross a line. Hell, they already had. The heat between them was boiling, and the way she rocked her hips into his made it damn near impossible to stop.

But then—a pinch.

A building pressure.

Beneath the haze of lust and adrenaline, reality tapped on Juicy’s shoulder with increasing urgency. Her eyes fluttered open, lips still locked to his, but her body was waving a red flag.

She had to pee.

She broke the kiss, panting against his lips, her head falling back just enough to catch her breath. Stack, still caught in the moment, leaned forward to follow her, trailing kisses along her jaw, his breath hot against her skin.

“Stack…” She sighed, voice breathless, trying to gather herself.

He hummed low in response, mouth still busy at her neck, hips still grinding like he couldn’t help it. Like it was second nature that moment they got like this.

“Stack, wait.” She said, firmer this time. Her hands slid from his hair to his shoulders, applying just enough pressure to push him back a bit.

His lips paused. His brows furrowed slightly as he leaned back, eyes dazed and lips swollen from kissing. “Huh?”

“I have to pee.” Juicy said, squeezing her thighs together instinctively around his torso, her voice half serious and half laughing at the ridiculous timing of her own body.

Stack blinked, clearly trying to process through the fog of hormones. His eyes scanned her face, took in the smudged gloss, the flushed cheeks, the slightly wild look in her eyes. She looked wrecked—and it was all him.

A crooked smile curled at his lips.

“Oh, baby…” He murmured, tilting his head. “That’s not pee.”He smirked devilishly, leaning in close. “I’ll show you how to do that later, just let me—”

“No, Stack, for real!” Juicy laughed, smacking his chest, her voice breathless but serious this time. “Move! I gotta piss!”

Stack groaned like the universe was out to get him. “Damn.” He muttered, reluctantly easing her back down to the floor, hands lingering longer than they needed to.

As soon as her feet hit the tile, she was already stepping away, adjusting her skirt and heading for the girl’s room just a few feet down.

But just as she reached for the bathroom door—

Smack!

His hand connected with her ass in a sharp, playful hit that made her squeak and spin around, eyes wide.“Stack!” She hissed, glaring at him. But he just gave her that damn grin, the one that had to have the girls in Chicago ruin their lives for just a moment with him. “Damn, Juicy.” He said, eyes trailing from her backside up to her smirking mouth like he had every right to look. “You know I hate to watch you go, but I’ll gladly watch you leave.”

He backed away, slow and easy, like he had all day. And just before ducking into the men’s room, she caught a glimpse of his trunks, the clear outline of his problem straining hard and proud.

She rolled her eyes with a sift scoff but couldn’t fight the grin tugging at her lips.

Juicy rushed into the bathroom, her knees nearly buckling as she slammed the stall door shut. Her heart was still racing, but for a whole new reason now—and not just from the way Stack had her melting into that hallway wall mere seconds before. She could barely breathe from the intensity of his kisses, his body, the way his hands gripped her thighs like he couldn’t stand to let her go. But now… she really had to pee. And it was killing the vibe.

When she was done, she took a moment at the sink, looking at herself in the mirror. Her lip gloss was smudged, her curls slightly tousled from where Stack’s fingers had gripped the back of her neck. Her cheeks were flushed, eyes still blown from the heat of their moment. She exhaled, straightened her halter top, and smoothed down her mini skirt. With a soft laugh at herself, she pushed out the bathroom door, still warm from Stack’s touch.

But she didn’t make it far.

The hallway was quiet now, almost too quiet. As she rounded the door, the air seemed to shift into something heavy and tense.

There he was, the man himself.

Smoke.

He was leaning against the wall like he had been waiting.

Her steps slowed. She could feel it, the weight of his gaze on her when she exited the bathroom, the way it crawled up her skin like wildfire. He said nothing, but everything about him was loud and demanding. His posture, his presence, his silence. She didn’t look at him for long. After she let out a small breath at seeing him, she felt the heat rise in her throat, her arms folding defensively over her chest as she turned her face slightly, staring at the far wall like it held the answers as to why he was suddenly in her space.

He didn’t move at first, just kept looking at her. His tall frame blocked the hallway, his shadow swallowing the corner whole. Juicy could feel the way his eyes raked over her, from her lips to her legs, and the same skirt Stack had bunched around her hips not even five minutes ago.

When she couldn’t take it anymore, she raised her head and met his eyes for a second, her voice dry but biting. “Can I help you?”

Smoke’s voice rolled out low and rough, like gravel over velvet. “What’s up with you, huh?”

She let out a breathy laugh, annoyed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Her eyes narrowed at him as he stepped forward. She didn’t flinch, but her jaw tightened. The heat of his nearness pulled at her like gravity. “Your games won’t work, Juicy.” He said.

She scoffed. “Oh, now I definitely don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.” She turned on her heel to brush past him, the tension crackling between them like static. Smoke didn’t stop her. Not physically. But his voice followed her like a shadow.

“You flirting with Stack.” He began, causing Juicy freeze mid-step, her back to him “All up on him, rubbing on him, whispering to him.“ He continued. “It’s not doing what you think it is.”

Her fist clenched, nails biting into her palm as she turned around slowly, her face sharp with fury. “And neither is you talking to Anika.”

That made him pause.

He stared at her for a long moment before a smirk curled across his lips. He laughed softly through his nose, like she was amusing. “Is that what this is about?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Smoke.”

He stepped forward, his eyes cutting into her. “You’re jealous that I spoke to Anika.”

“I’m not jealous of a damn thing.” She snapped.

But he ignored her as he kept stepping until the distance between them was nearly gone, the scent of his cologne mixing with the sweat on her skin and whatever was left of Stack on her lips.

“You know, I didn’t even know her name before you said it.” He murmured. “I don’t give a damn about that girl. And you’d know that if you stopped reacting for two seconds and just calmed the hell down.”He snapped. Juicy opened her mouth to argue, but Smoke cut her off, voice sharper now, eyes burning into hers. “You trying to make me feel some type of way with Stack was a waste of your time. ’Cause I know how you feel about me. I see how you feel about me. And you kissing on Stack doesn’t change that. Doesn’t change how I feel about you either.” He shrugged.

Juicy’s heart thundered in her chest. He stepped even closer, their bodies nearly touching as his voice dropped to a husk. “Seeing you up on my brother didn’t do nothing to me… ’cept give me a front row seat to how hot you get when you’re trying to prove a point.”

Juicy’s lips parted, her breath shaky.

“So go ahead.” He said, eyes dark and sure. “Just ‘cause you’re with him don’t mean you’re not mine. And just ‘cause you’re with me don’t mean you’re not his.”

She could only blinked, stunned.

“It’s been this way for a while, Juicy. And it’ll keep being this way. Until one of us figures out how to stop loving you.” His eyes softened, just a little. “And that ain’t happening. For a long time, not for me.”

Juicy didn’t know what to say. Her anger had drained, replaced by a strange ache in her chest. Smoke had always been intense, but this was something else. This was… raw. Emotions she’d never had to deal with, things she’d never thought he would ever say.

She was still trying to gather her thoughts when the sound of a sink shutting off echoed from behind the bathroom door. Then it creaked open, and Stack stepped out, wiping his hands on his trunks.

He stopped cold at the sight of them—Juicy cornered, Smoke towering, both of them staring at each other like the rest of the world had disappeared.

Stack’s voice cut through. “Hell goin’ on here?”

Juicy blinked fast and turned away, suddenly breathless. Her feet moved before her brain did, her wedges clicking quick down the hallway as both men watched her retreat.

Stack’s eyes followed her for a second, then turned back to his twin. “The hell did you say?”

Smoke leaned against the wall again, calm, like the storm hadn’t just passed through his chest. “Nothin’ she ain’t already know.” He said. “She just finally admitted it to herself.”

Juicy rushed out of the building, heart still pounding in her chest from whatever that moment had been. She didn’t stop to check if anyone noticed, didn’t pause to let the warm summer air cool her down. Her sandals slapped against the pavement as she beelined back to her lounge chair, a sigh slipping through her lips the moment she dropped into it, like a weight being let go.

Mary sat in the chair next to hers, legs crossed and a glossy magazine propped in her lap, the same one Juicy had been reading earlier. She looked up, immediately catching the faraway glaze in Juicy’s eyes.

“Aye, what’s up with you?” Mary asked, folding the magazine shut and turning in her chair with concern laced under her playful tone.

“Nothing.” Juicy responded flatly, sliding her gold rimmed sunglasses back down onto the bridge of her nose before lying back, her head tilted toward the bright sky. The air was thick with chlorine along with a faint scent of grilled meat floating over the pool area. But Juicy didn’t notice any of it. Not now.

Mary furrowed her brows, watching her for a second, but didn’t press. She knew Juicy well enough to know that if she didn’t wanna talk, she wouldn’t. So she turned her focus back to her magazine, flipping a page with an acrylic click.

A few minutes passed, a soft summer breeze blew through the trees, rustling the umbrellas and pool floaties. The sun had shifted slightly, casting a golden sheen over everything. From the corner of her eye, Juicy noticed two familiar shapes emerging from the building. Smoke and Stack.

They weren’t being subtle either—eyes trained directly across the pool, right at her.

Still, she kept her gaze upward, acting like she hadn’t noticed. Her whole body was tensed like a live wire though, her chest tight, lips pursed and hand fidgeting with the thin strap of her bikini top. Their area had gotten more crowded, people swarming around the life guard chair, someone trying to flirt with Megan, others leaning over the fence and their bags strewn around. It was noisy and chaotic—but not enough to drown out the presence of the twins as they made their way over.

Smoke dropped himself casually at the end of Juicy’s lounge chair, while Stack took his time, leaning coolly against the tall lifeguard chair like a king surveying his court. Juicy’s lips tightened but she didn’t say anything. She just stayed laid out, arms crossed over her chest, legs stretched long and golden in the sun, pretending the sky was more interesting than the weight of their gazes.

It wasn’t until Mary broke the silence that Juicy finally stirred. “Oh, girl, I almost forgot!” She said suddenly, closing her magazine and shifting closer. “I overheard Shante talking, and turns out, Donavan and Anika broke up because he supposedly got another girl pregnant, right?”

Juicy tilted her head slightly toward her friend, lips still tight. “Right…” She said, low and distracted.

Smoke shifted, placing her legs into his lap like it was the most natural thing in the world. Juicy glanced down at the feeling of his palms on her skin. Warm and familiar. She didn’t say anything, but her jaw flexed. Mary noticed it too but powered on, already locked into her gossip.

“Well come to find out, that was a lie. Anika cheated on him. But guess with who.”

“Who?” Juicy and Stack asked in unison, a beat of accidental harmony. The chubby girl looked up at him, be he seemed just as engrossed as her.

Mary leaned in, voice dropping like she had government secrets. “Antwon.”

Juicy’s shades shot up as she gasped, leaning up on her elbows. “Our Antwon?” She asked, disbelief written across her face.

Mary nodded eagerly. “Yup.”

Juicy gasped again, hand to chest like her pearls had just been clutched. The twins on either side exchanged looks before focusing in on her. “What do you mean, your Antwon?” Stack asked, narrowing his eyes. His gold chain glinted in the sun as he looked down at her.

Juicy rolled onto her back again, meeting his stare with a smirk. “Not like that. Y’all know Antwon. Everybody knows Antwon. He got me and Mary into clubs, concerts, we even went on a road trip to Florida with him once. Mary, you remember that?”

Mary grinned wide, eyes sparkling with memory. “Hell yeah. That was fun as hell too. Ooo, do you remember that white boy who ate—”

“No! I don’t!” Juicy hissed, cutting her off sharply. Her eyes widened slightly as she darted them between the two men. Mary caught on to the hint and fell quiet.“Oh, yeah… me neither.” She mumbled, flipping a page in her magazine like nothing happened. “Can’t believe she cheated with Antwon.” She mumbled, bring the conversation back.

“Wait—what were you about to say?” Smoke asked, tone lighter, but his curiosity clear.

“Yeah, me either.” Juicy said quickly, waving off the moment like it didn’t matter. “I mean, I thought he was too square for her. She sort of has a type.” Her eyes drifted toward Smoke deliberately. “No offense to you or anything.” She snarked with an upturned lip in disgust. Smoke didn’t respond with words, he just smirked and tapped her leg.

“What white boy?” Stack pressed, not letting it go and he was a bit annoyed that he was begging ignored.

Mary spoke again, trying to pivot back. “I heard she only did it ‘cause Donavan cheated first. I guess this was her way of getting even. That, and for always flirting with you.”

Juicy’s head snapped toward her. “Excuse me?”

Mary blinked innocently. “Flirting with you all the time.” She repeated. “He does it right in the girl’s face. Remember when you worked at Waffle House last year? He’d be in there every damn day.”

“That’s because the auto shop was right next door. You know that’s where his brother used to hang. And you were in there every day too.”Juicy countered.

“I was there for free food. He was there to see that ass in them True Religion jeans.” Mary grinned.

“Oh, so you weren’t there for me? And is my ass my defining quality now?”

“It’s one of your best.” Mary said with a wink.

Stack chimed in at the same time, “It’s the most prominent.”

Juicy turned and gave him a full glare, but he just grinned at her, his gold tooth glinting, completely unbothered. She flipped him off with a lazy hand and turned back to Mary. “Don’t say it like that. I worked there for two weeks.”

“And you apparently couldn’t survive without me.”

“Anyways!” Mary said loudly, cutting them off. “Those two weeks you did work there, he was up in there with Anika trying to get at you.”

“I don’t remember any of that.”Juicy muttered, sliding her shades back down.

“That’s ‘cause you’re oblivious unless somebody pours it on thick. That’s why you flirt so boldly.” Mary said, eyebrow raised with precision.

Juicy turned to look at the two men next to her. Smoke was already watching her from behind her glasses while Stack raised a brow thoughtfully, then nodded in agreement.

Juicy scoffed in disbelief, dragging a hand over her face.

“I just hope Antwon knows what he signed up for,” Mary added. “I would hate to defend my good friend by laying hands upon that New York City street rat.” She hissed the insult with venom, casting a sharp glance across the pool toward Anika, who was laid out on her stomach, ass perched like a billboard ad.

Juicy followed her gaze, lips curling in disdain. The memory of Anika talking to Smoke earlier flashed across her mind like lightning. Without a word, she pulled her legs from Smoke’s lap and gently pushed him away with her feet. He let it happen, grinning like he knew exactly what was on her mind.

Before he could say anything, Stack broke the tension.

“Juicy.” He said, voice low and slow, syrup-thick and sweet as a ‘issippi drawl.

She looked at him, her head turning lazily, curiosity flickering behind her glasses. Her lips stayed in that soft pout she always had when she was trying to decide if she was irritated or not.

“Can you go get my shirt outta my car?” He asked, almost too casually. Her gaze narrowed a bit, searching his face. “Back seat, behind the passenger.” He added, eyes holding hers with a bit of challenge. “You’ll know which one.”

The way he said it—it wasn’t just a request. It was a demand with a flirtatious flair. Like an invitation wrapped in something silky but toxic.

Juicy let out a slow sigh, already halfway annoyed, halfway entertained. She pushed herself up from the cool edge of the lounge chair, brushing imaginary dust from her thighs, the hem of her skirt rising with the motion.

“You got two working legs, Stack.” She muttered.

“Yeah.” He said with a grin, eyes never leaving hers, “But I got you, too.”

Smoke let out a low chuckle, deep and rich like the rumbling of a distant engine. Mary popped her gum, watching the exchange with raised brows, eyes bouncing between them like it was her favorite TV show. Juicy didn’t say anything for a beat, just stood there, hand on her hip like she was giving him one last out before she really got mad. When Stack simply smirked, smug and warm and cocky, she huffed, holding out her hand.

Stack reached into his pocket and tossed the keys to her in one smooth motion, letting them land in her palm.

She stared at him for a moment longer, lips twitching like she might smile if she weren’t so annoyed, then turned on her heel with that signature switch in her hips—the one she didn’t even know she had.

She walked across the gravel and out the gate toward the car parked a bit out of plain sight. Only the folks at the cars could see her now, not the ones chilling by the water.

The summer heat kissed her shoulders as she reached the familiar beeper keychain, unlocking the car with a soft chirp. She opened the door and leaned into the back seat, immediately spotting the black wife pleaser folded messily behind the passenger seat. Reaching for it, her fingers brushed the fabric—cool against her warm skin.

That’s when she felt it. A hand on her lower back.

She gasped, whipping around fast and swinging without thinking. Her palm connected with someone’s chest, and a familiar laugh followed.

“Damn!” Stack chuckled, wincing a bit but still grinning like the mischievous man he is.

“What the hell, Stack!” Juicy snapped, swatting him again, this time on the arm.

“I’m sorry!” He said, still laughing, holding up both hands like he was surrendering. “Relax, girl, damn. You got a bit of a much on you”

“You had me come all the way out here just to follow me?”She asked, her voice tight with disbelief.

“Yeah.” He grinned, leaning his back against the car with his arms folded and that same soft, unreadable look in his eyes.

“For what, Stack?” She asked, arms folded now, the heat and tension settling into her bones. “To get me alone or some?”

He tilted his head slightly, dark braided curls brushing the male of his neck. “Yeah.” He repeated, the word quieter this time.

Her breath was caught at that one word. “For what, Stack?” She asked again, softer now.

“I wanna know what Smoke said to you earlier.” He said plainly.

That threw her then, and she only blinked before her eyes fell to the shirt in her hand. She sighed, voice dipping low. “It’s… complicated.” She muttered:

Stack shifted, facing her fully now. “Try me.”

She looked up at him, really looked at him. The way his eyes softened when they were just the two of them. The brightness behind them, always shining a little extra when he looked at her. It did something to her—something she wasn’t sure she had words for yet.

She let out another sigh and moved to sit on the foot panel of the car door, body half-twisted toward him, the metal hot beneath her.

Stack slid into the back seat, legs dangling out, watching her with a kind of focus that made her fingers tremble as she picked at the gems on her nails. She hesitated, her mouth opening to speak but no words coming out as her bear beat increased. Then she decided to just finally come out and say it.

“I like you, Elias.” She said, eyes moving up from her fidgeting hands to search his. Her voice was small but steady.

Stack blinked at her before a slow grin spread across his face. “Okay.”

She bit her lip, starting at him before she pressed on. “Like, a lot.” She blinked at him, her heart banging behind her ribs. “Like… I wanna be with you.” She admitted.

Stack didn’t move for a beat. Then, his large hands reached out and covered hers, stilling her fidgeting. His skin was warm, grounding. “That sounds like music to my ears, mama.” He said, voice low and smooth, like velvet to her skin. “Keep talkin’ like that and I’ma have to show you a few things.” He grumbled as he leaned in. Juicy laughed softly, shy and breathless, even as his lips met hers. He kissed her slowly. Pocketed kisses that were quick but tender, like he was tasting each one before giving her the next. And in between each one, he pulled back just enough to look at her. Really look at her with her long lashes flush against her cheeks.

Juicy kissed him back, nerves fluttering in her stomach like summer fireflies. But the next part—the next part tangled her up. “I also feel the same way for Elijah.” She mumbled, barely audible.

Stack blinked. His face didn’t fall, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. He just sat there, quiet.

“I’d understand if you don’t—”

“I don’t care.” He cut in.

She looked up, startled. “What?” She asked, brows furrowing.

“I said I don’t care.” He repeated. “I mean… I don’t mind that you feel the way you do about Smoke. As long as you feel how you do about me like you said. That’s what matters to me.”His voice was steady. But instead of relief, Juicy felt the ache in her chest grow.

“I thought that would help.” She whispered, “but it only makes things worse.” She whined, placing her hands over her face.

Stack leaned forward, amusement clear on his face as his hand slid along her back, fingers trailing over skin exposed by her halter top. “Aw, and why’s that, mama?” He murmured, lips brushing against the curve of her ear.

“Because now I gotta choose.” She said softly, eyes glossy. “And that’s something I never wanted to do.”She said as she leaned forward and placed her cheek against his thigh, the scent of his cologne wrapping around her like a hug.

Stack stroked her back in long, gentle circles, quiet for a moment.

“You don’t have to choose.” He said finally.

Juicy lifted her head slowly, eyes full of question.

“What?”

He smiled down at her, soft and unguarded. “I mean it. I ain’t askin’ you to pick. I’m askin’ you to be real. With me. With him. With yourself.” He stated.

She stared at him, heart thudding hard.

“I already know how I feel about you. And I ain’t goin’ nowhere.”

Juicy’s throat tightened, her fingers curling in his lap. The world around them faded into the hum of summer—the distant pool splashes, the low drone of 112’s “Cupid” playing from someone’s speaker. But in that moment, all she could hear was her heart and his voice, intertwining like a melody she never wanted to end.

She lifted her head from Stack’s lap slowly, brown eyes glimmering with uncertainty, the same way they always did when she tried to guard her heart but didn’t really want to. “What?”

Stack smiled down at her, easy and entirely unbothered. It wasn’t the cocky kind of smile he usually wore. It was soft and honest. Vulnerable, even.“I mean it.” He said, his voice low and steady, like it had been rehearsed in his chest for weeks. “I ain’t askin’ you to pick when I already know I got you.”

Juicy’s heart thudded so loud in her chest, she swore Stack could hear it. She just stared at him, her lips parted like she wanted to say something but forgot how to speak. His words hit somewhere deep—somewhere behind her ribcage, tucked under all that sassy-girl bravado she wore.

“I already know how I feel about you.” He continued, brushing a knuckle down her jawline. “And I ain’t goin’ nowhere, baby. So, if you don’t mind it… I sure as hell don’t.”

That last part melted something in her. Something tight and tangled in her chest. Her fingers curled in his lap, picking at the edge of her acrylics like she could fidget the feelings away. The moment thickened around them, time slowing to a crawl. The world outside—Smoke, Mary, the pool, the music, all of it—faded into a muffled hush.

“Really?” She whispered.

“Yes.” He answered without hesitation, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek. His thumb brushed over the curve of her cheekbone, soft as breath. “I meant what I said. I don’t care about the rest. I care about you.”

“You don’t mind?” She asked again, still trying to wrap her head around it. Her voice was higher now, tinged with disbelief. As if love that easy—love that open—was too good to be true.

Stack chuckled, and it was low and warm, wrapping around her like a hug. “No, baby, I don’t.”

And something in her broke open.

“Oh, Stack.” She breathed, her whole body softening as she looked at him like he’d just handed her the moon. And before she could talk herself out of it, she moved. Pounced on him again like she had earlier in the hallway—only this time it wasn’t playful. This time, it was desperate.

Her lips crashed onto his with heat, hunger, and the kind of reckless passion that made her forget they were in the back of his car and not in some steamy and searing dream. She pushed him into the leather seat cushions, and the car creaked softly beneath their bodies.

Stack let out a surprised grunt, caught off guard for all of two seconds before instinct kicked in. His hands gripped her like he’d been waiting to, one large palm immediately claiming her bottom while the other slid up her spine, pulling her closer. Juicy kissed him like she was starving, like he was the only thing that could satisfy her craving, and Stack responded by letting his mouth part just enough for her tongue to taste him.

When she finally pulled back, both of them panting lightly, her hands cradled his face, thumbs brushing his cheekbones. Her eyes were wild and soft all at once, pupils blown wide, lips swollen. She looked at him like she couldn’t believe he was real. “I could just eat you.” She groaned hungrily, breathless, before diving back in, lips finding his again like she was scared they’d disappear if she stopped.

Stack moaned into her mouth, a deep, possessive sound as his hands roamed, mapping every curve of her like he already knew them by heart. Her thighs straddled his lap fully now, riding the heat between them as his fingertips slid beneath her skirt, brushing against the small of her back. Skin on skin. Heat on heat. It was too much and not enough at the same time.

“I been wantin’ this.” He muttered between kisses, his voice husky. “You don’t even know, baby. Every time you walk past me with those damn hips swingin’, or when you laugh with that hand over your mouth like you shy—”

“I am shy.”She whispered against his lips, smiling, her hips slowly rocking against his lap.

“Not with me.” He grinned, dragging his mouth along her jaw to kiss at her neck. “Never with me, baby.”

She whimpered at that, fingers tangling in his hair as his mouth worked a slow, open kiss beneath her ear. Her body arched against him, her back curving like she was offering herself up, and Lord, if Stack didn’t look like he was about to pass out from how sweet she felt on top of him.

“You don’t know what you do to me.” She whispered, pulling back just enough to look at him, breath shaky. “I’m tryna be good but you make it so damn hard, Elias.” She whined.

Stack smirked, dragging her lip between his teeth before letting go. “Don’t be good then.”

That broke her.

She kissed him again—messier this time, much needier. Her arms looped around his shoulders as if holding him tighter could erase the confusion, the guilt, the ache in her chest about Elijah. But for now, there was only this. Only him.

Stack's mouth was a trail of fire on her skin, his lips and tongue leaving a path of goosebumps as they explored her collarbone, her neck, her shoulders. Juicy's breath hitched, her pulse racing like a wild animal as she arched into him, her body crying out for more. The heat between them was a living thing, an inferno that licked at their nerves and made their limbs tingle with anticipation.

She rolled her hips against him, feeling his hardness press against her center, and a soft moan escaped her lips, a sound that was part plea, part invitation.

"You feel too good to be real, baby…" Stack growled against her throat, his voice a gravelly rumble that sent shockwaves through her as his hands gripped the flesh of her ass.

Juicy's nails dragged lightly across the nape of his neck, eliciting another groan from him, a sound that was pure, unadulterated longing as his hips bucked into her, his hard never pressing against her clothed clit, inciting a sharp moan from her. He was her tormentor and her savior all in one, and she was utterly at his mercy.

As his hand dipped further beneath the waistband of her shorts, she froze, her breath catching in her throat like a bird trapped in a cage. She placed a soft but firm hand on his chest, stilling his movements, her heart pounding wildly.

"Wait.” She whispered. Her eyes locked with his, and she saw the surprise flicker in his gaze, but no annoyance, only a hint of curiosity and a world of unspoken questions. Stack blinked, pulling back slightly, his lips still grazing her collarbone, leaving a trail of shivers in their wake. "What is it, Juicy?" He asked, his voice a low, concerned murmur, laced with a hint of confusion. "You okay?"

She took a deep, shuddering breath, her cheeks flushing slightly as she gathered her thoughts. "I—I don’t wanna go all the way yet.” She admitted, her voice soft but certain. "Not till we’ve had our first date. I want it to mean something. Not just the heat of the moment and hormones. I want it to be real, Stack. I want you to want me for more than just this."

He sat up more, the tension in the car shifting as he processed her words, his eyes never leaving hers.

A slow, boyish grin spread across his face, a grin that held a thousand promises and a touch of mischief. "You mean to tell me this ain’t real?" He teased, his eyes sparkling with amusement and something more profound, something that made her stomach do a series of flips. Juicy narrowed her eyes playfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "Stack, you know what I mean.” She said, brushing a stray curl out of her face, her hand trembling slightly. "I just... I want to take our time. I want to build something real." She admitted.

He chuckled, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down her spine. He lifted his hands in mock surrender, his eyes never leaving hers. "Alright, I get it. You're killing me, though, ma. First the couch yesterday, then the hallway, and now this. You're killing me, you know that?" He said, his grin never wavering, his eyes dark with desire and something softer, something that looked a lot like affection.

Juicy leaned in, her lips brushing the edge of his jaw, her breath hot against his skin. "Well, said I wanted to wait on sex.” She whispered. “Didn’t say I couldn’t help you in other ways.” She says, her voice a sultry promise, a tantalizing tease. Stack went still, his eyes darkening with surprise and interest, his breath hitching slightly. "Didn’t you just say wait?" He asked, his voice creeping on amusement.

"I did.” She confirmed, her smile innocent but her tone anything but. "But not for everything."

He blinked slowly, licking his lips as if he needed a moment to process the weight of her words. The look he gave her was intense, a look that promised a world of pleasure and one that made her heart race and her body ache with longing. "You sure about this, Juicy?" He asked, his voice hoarse with desire and need.

She nodded, her eyes smoldering with want. "If you’re okay with it.” She said, her voice a soft.

A tense pause lingered between them, thick with desire and anticipation. The air was electric, charged with a tension that was almost painful, almost unbearable. Stack exhaled deeply.

"Damn right I’m okay with it.”He muttered, his voice low and reverent.

Juicy just smiled. She took her time, savoring the moment and the look in his eyes. The feel of his body beneath hers and the sound of his ragged breaths. Her fingers danced along the waistband of his sweats, a teasing, tantalizing promise of things to come. The music outside shifted to something even slower and more sensual, another old-school groove made for moments like this.

She could feel the anticipation building, could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, like a spring ready to snap. She slipped her hand beneath the waistband of his sweats, feeling him spring free, hard and ready, a testament to his desire and his longing for her. Her mouth practically watered at the sight of him, hushed dick thick throbbing in need. She took in a sharp breath as a rush of liquid dotted the center of her bikini, she could feel it. Just the sight of him set things off in him.

Stack's breath hitched, a sharp sound. His eyes never left hers, even when hers moved. He never wavered, never broke contact, as if he was afraid she would disappear. That this was all a dream, a fantasy, a figment of his imagination. "Juicy.” He whispered, her name a prayer on his lips, a plea.

She leaned forward a bit as her eyes made their way back to his, looking up at him through her lashes with her head still angled down. And he watched as her mouth opened slightly and a trial of clear saliva dribbled out.

He took in another breath, closing his eyes briefly at the feeling of her spit hitting his dick. He opened them again, just in time to see Juicy lick her lips, her eyes still trained on his face. She took his member in to hand, her grip firm, and she began to move her hand slowly, a torturously slow pace that was designed to drive him wild as she worked her slick around him. A smirk played on her lips as she felt him respond to her touch, as she felt his body tense and watched his muscles coil under his bare chest.

She was in control, and she loved it. This dynamic and sense of power was new to her and she loved it. The look in his eyes, loved the feel of him in her hand, loved the way he reacted to her touch.

"Like that?" She whispered, her voice low and sultry as she tightened her grip on him a bit. Her eyes sparkled with a mix of innocence and mischief, a dangerous combination that was guaranteed to drive him wild.

Stack could only nod, his throat tight with anticipation and need as his adman apple bobbed. "Yeah, just like that.” He managed to rasp out, his voice a low in a desperate sound. His hips lifted slightly to meet her strokes, a silent plea for more, for something faster, something harder. He hummed as the feeling of release built up in his core, and Juicy leaned in, her lips brushing his ear. Her breath was hot against his skin and her voice a low, sultry murmur. "I want you to feel good.” She said, her words a declaration of her intentions, of her desires and needs. "I to make you feel good. Want you to know how much I want you, even if we're taking this slow. I want you to know that I care about you." She continued.

Stack's hand found her other one, his fingers lacing through hers on his lap, his grip tight, almost desperate. His other one found her wrist and he guided her, showed her exactly what he liked, exactly what he needed, exactly what he wanted. He clearly just wanted to hold onto her, to ground himself as he felt his pleasure build. Their combined touch in a symphony of pleasure that was almost too much to bear.

The increasing pace, the ragged breaths, the desperate moans, the world outside fading away, the car becoming a place of pleasure and ecstasy.

"Juicy," Stack groaned, his voice a low, desperate sound as he struggled for control of his desperate need for release. "You're driving me crazy. You feel so good, baby. Mmm, fuck, I can't get enough.” He groaned.

Juicy smiled against his neck, her lips soft and warm as she placed gentle, reverent kisses on his skin, her hand never stopping its delicious torture, never wavering, never slowing, never stopping. She could feel his pleasure building, could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter, his breath coming in short, sharp gasps and his heart pounding wildly against her hand, his body begging for release.

Stack's grip on her hand tightened, his fingers digging into her skin, his body tensing. "I'm close.” He warned, his voice hoarse with need. "I’m so close, baby. Don’t stop. Don’t stop. Please don’t fucking stop." He pleaded desperately in between the wet kisses he placed upon her lips.

Juicy increased her pace, not taking her mouth away from his as she hummed in pleasure, her strokes sure and steady. "Let go, baby.” She whispered, pulling back to place her forehead against his. “Let go for me.” Her voice a soft, commanding but pleading, as she held his eyes, their face mere inches apart.

With a final, shuddering groan, Stack did just that. His back arched off the seat, his muscles tensing and his mouth open in a silent scream as waves of pleasure crashed over him. Juicy held him tightly, her hand never stopping, while her other hand gripped his thigh, her nails digging into his flesh.

She felt it, the hot, pulsing release, the evidence of his pleasure spilling into her hand, coating her fingers. It was a testament to his ecstasy, a symbol of their connection. She slowed her movements, gentling her touch and soothing him as he came down from his high, her eyes never leaving his. Her gaze was soft, her expression tender and her heart full.

Stack's chest heaved, his body slick with a thin sheen of sweat, his breath coming in ragged gasps. He looked at her, his eyes still blown and dark with pleasure. He then smiled, a slow, lazy, satisfied smile that made her heart flutter.

"Oh, Juicy.” He murmured, her name a prayer on his lips. "That was... incredible, baby.” He sighed. “You are... incredible."

She smiled back at him, her heart swelling with content, though there was an air of mischief still there in her smirk. She held his eyes as she brought her hand up to her lips, and slowly licked her fingers clean, tasting his essence. Savoring him and committing the moment to memory.

Stack's eyes darkened, his breath hitching as he watched her, his body responding to the erotic sight as he dick twitched against his stomach and a soft groan escaped his lips. "Fuck, Juicy.” He whispered, her name a reverent of his admiration.

She smiled, a slow and seductive before she leaned in, her lips brushing his in a soft, gentle, tender kiss. Stack kissed her back, his arms wrapping around her, pulling her close, his body still trembling with the aftermath of his release, his heart pounding, his soul soaring.

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 & 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 🗑️ 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬★ ★ ★ ★ ★

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[eloquentlytired]

18+ NSFW. MDNI.

dreamlike — tommy miller x fem reader

warnings: slightly dark content, dark!tommy, smut, unspecified age gap but reader is over 22+, masturbation, handjob, cheating, tommy’s moral compass breaks down, unclothed grinding, surprise ending, sex outdoors, tension, maria ily this isn't personal I just rlly like ur man

notes: hi guys it's been 100 years I'm sorry ily + take this bc im ovulating 😎 tommy miller suddenly making me feel things bc of gabriel luna that's right. likes and reposts are appreciated🥹

“I don't think you've settled down quite just yet.” joel tells him one day while they're eating breakfast together. tommy glances, swallows then responds.

“I don't know what you mean.” but his eyes betray him as they return somewhere for the fifth time; at a distant specific table where you're reading some silly book again.

your food is yet to be touched while tommy’s and joel’s are nearly gone.

“tommy we're too old for this shit, you and I. you're my brother, I already know what you'll do before you even do it.” joel throws the bait and tommy bites it.

“I’m not doing anything joel except—”

“except eating Maria's food while throwing damn heart eyes at her.”

tommy hisses at joel’s truthful interruption, not so much at being interrupted but at the validation of those words.

“I’m just making sure she likes the food.” joel deadpans, tommy does the same right after because of his own words. gods, he is pathetic.

“fuck, just shoot me already.” joel shrugs at his brother's words and doesn't even try to hide the fact that he's grinning. “tell your wife, I'm sure she'll be delighted.”

tommy shakes his head and keeps on eating. he stresses over his thoughts so much that, lucky for you, he misses your piercing gaze and the bite of your lips.

he spends days trying to blame it on something other than him being a terrible person. the breakout, the virus, the living circumstances, the we need to work faster from Maria or that everyone depends on him for the hard stuff.

sure, tommy had chosen this in the first place but he doesn't even know if he wants whatever this is anymore. what does he want?

“mister miller!”

the tension leaves his shoulders as he watches you walk towards him, only wearing that favourite sundress of yours and an oversized jacket.

it's the first real summer that wyoming has felt since the outbreak. tommy only appreciates it because he's too lazy to gear up for winter.

“you’re early.” he says and finds himself smiling as you flop down beside him, sitting on the green weeds.

the snow is still melting but it doesn't make things less cold — but clearly you don't feel the cold he does.

“I helped in the kitchen so they let me off early.” you explain and tommy hums. he thinks about the past months when he'd found you during patrol, covered by the snow and nearly dead. he'd never ridden back home faster, urging for the medics to help you out and thank gods they'd done a great job. now you were here, a few months later, and trusting him more than anyone else while tommy was just a straight up bastard.

he fed you more than others, brought you new clothes that you might like and most importantly showed you his spot. that well hidden spot outside the fences which was an hour's walk away... it wasn't even special but it was spacious and quiet and a little cleaner — and suddenly he was calling it our spot instead of my spot.

for months you'd come here, chat with him and draw in your worn out notebook. the pages were running out and tommy made a mental note to find you a new one. fuck.

“what’s this?” tommy murmurs while his hand points at a very specific drawing on the left page.

he seems to pale while you just feel yourself growing hot. you'd drew him back in the cafeteria when he was looking at you, when he thought you were so unaware of his eyes but you always knew.

“I just—” you try to find the right words, or better yet the right excuse, but you can't. “I just did it.”

tommy catches on your tone as if you were afraid to receive a reaction. his reply surprises you.

“do I really look at you that way?” he asks and you nod, the strap of your dress falling off your shoulder clearly to test him.

tommy has never succeeded in any tests in his entire life.

you lay on the ground, indifferent about the weeds tangling in your hair. tommy’s face hovers over yours as he kisses you, one of his hands sneaking beneath your dress to squeeze your thigh and nothing more.

“tommy.” he swallows his own name from your lips, his lips kissing you feverishly yet the rest of his body doesn't dare move. tommy just sticks to laying beside you while his elbow achingly supports his weight.

he cannot trust himself to move, to slip between your thighs and only kiss.

the hand he's placed on your thigh earlier starts to retreat but you don't let it as you use both of your hands to capture his wrist.

“sweetheart.” tommy warns, his eyes blown wide with lust while his chest heaves up and down. he’s affected by this, feeling overwhelmingly lustful like he's young again, while also fearing the consequences of this. the aftermath of it.

for the first time you don't listen to him, pushing his hand between your thighs until his fingers come in contact with your soaked panties.

you hear him cursing beneath his breath, fuck this, as he touches you after what feels like forever.

he rubs you through your panties, his massive hand feeling the material soaking further as his thumb finds your clit. your head turns and you bury it in his chest while tommy just rubs.

his breath is hitched and he's in a far worse state than you for a different type of reasons. you drool on his shirt and throb against his fingers because you're excited, you feel good. on the other hand, tommy cups and fondles your pussy possessively while stressing over the limits. he can't do more than this — he shouldn't.

“can I touch your cock?” you whisper almost too shyly and tommy wishes joel would have just shot him when he had asked the first time.

your hand unzips his trousers and takes out his cock because tommy has obviously agreed, because it's your fault for looking at him with those sparkling eyes.

your foreheads collide as tommy touches you and you touch him.

his fingers eventually sneak beneath your panties because he wants it to be fair, you're touching his bare cock so he's entitled to your pussy right?— or maybe he really is just an asshole deep down.

nothing like the tommy that maria loves, nothing like the tommy that everybody respects. no, once again he's the tommy miller that only joel knows.

your fingers circle around his cock, feeling it at first, before caressing every inch of skin you can get. your eyes are on tommy’s as your foreheads keep touching and a soft smile occupies your face while you stroke his cock.

you're smiling and touching his dick and tommy likes it too much.

“you need a new notebook, don't you?” tommy asks through gritted as your fingers squeeze around his hard cock. because it's definitely the right time for conversations.

you nod, mouth slightly agape as his fingers circle your swollen clit and then dip between your lips, feeling you dripping.

“anything else?” he asks too softly while his nose brushes against yours, offering some intimacy that isn't just sexual.

“pencils?” you don't order him or demand. you ask because you care and tommy likes that you care in that way. it's always only if it's okay with you and that's exactly how he needs it.

“notebooks.. pencils.. whatever you say, it'll happen.” he slaps your pussy, not too hard, and you whimper.

you can feel your nipples hardening beneath your dress while your pussy simply leaks for tommy miller. your legs shift and you spread them.

tommy sways his hips, fucks his cock into your tight but soft fist and curses.

the summer breeze carries your soft whimpers and tommy’s gentle grunts. your hand strokes him a little faster as your thumb purposely brushes against his sensitive slit and you don't fail to notice the way tommy’s hips twitch when you do it.

the front of his shirt is a mix of your drying drool and his sweat but it doesn't bother him. his solid focus is to fuck your small fist and, of course, to pleasure you which is his first priority.

tommy can handle you, his middle finger circling your wet entrance slowly before he pushes in, the slide smoother than he'd expected. he adds a second finger minutes later, then a third.

you stroke his cock as he thrusts his fingers inside your pussy and for a while nothing else really matters.

the squelching of your cunt is loud and tommy curls his fingers inside you, reaching a place that makes you see stars. “tommy!” you gasp in that angelic voice and he goes a little crazy, fingers digging into your sweet spot as he becomes a little desperate with his thrusts.

your lower tummy shudders with delight and your thighs flex as his fingers thrust into your tight pussy recklessly, poking at those sensitive nerves every damn time.

tommy thinks you warn him about your orgasm but he's also not sure as he's too busy watching your face and your pussy reacting simultaneously. your eyebrows furrow and your mouth forms a small ‘O’ as your walls are suddenly gripping his fingers too tight, too deep.

you cum with a shuddering moan of his name and coat his fingers generously, becoming a spectacle. you squirt for him, because of him, and he'd draw out more if it wasn't for time running away from you two.

tommy seems confused when you push his hand away but then everything happens so fast. he can't stop it, he swears.

he watches as you roll to your side, your chest brushing against his, and slip his cock between your thighs. tommy can't breath when his entire girth slides between your pussy lips, soaking through, until his tip kisses your clit.

“no sweetheart—” tommy warns weakly but you're already moving, swaying. his cock is wet with your juices as it slides against your pussy, harder than ever, and he is utterly defeated.

“please cum on my pussy.” you mumble against his lips and he kisses you otherwise he might do worse. he satiates himself with this situation, sucking your bottom lip while thrusting his hips upwards and taking half of what he wants. something he doesn't deserve.

his balls swell and then clench as he orgasms, lowering his hips a little to cum on your pussy. he fulfils his promise, painting the surface white with his cum before resting his forehead on yours again. spent.

it's quiet for a long time as his arms remain lazily wrapped around your body. you melt against him, into him, and you two do your best to catch your breath.

when he looks at you again, the sun is setting right behind you and making you look surreal. you're like a dream while tommy is just there with a stupid smile on his face and half indecent because of what you've done.

then suddenly he doesn't feel real, his body is all too light before it gets incredibly heavy.

he hears his name being called out repeatedly tommy tommy tommy and he jumps, looking around with sweat dripping down his back.

maria stands over him as he lays on the couch because he's home — not outside the fence. not with you.

“I told you to cut day drinking with joel. he's bringing back old habits.” his wife tells him, pressing a kiss on his forehead before walking away.

tommy rises and stumbles to the window. the snow is still there, white and thick, while the red calendar on the wall reads December 25 like it's a fucking joke. like he'd never met you secretly in the spot that belongs to you and him.

reality hits hard as you pass by his house, that familiar notebook resting against your chest as you hug it preciously. you look at him instinctively, as if feeling his burning gaze, and you smile.

“merry christmas, mister miller!” you yell cheerfully and tommy nods, forcing his best smile.

miracles can only go so far and in the end, tommy can be content with just dreams.

[monotonesmile]

Can i request pregnant batsis who was dumped by her bf because he didn't want a baby. And the batsis comes back to the manor. She's younger than Dick and Jason but older that Tim and Damian. Damian doesn't know her. And she tells them they going to be uncels and Bruce a grandfather?

Batfam & Pregnant!Batsis!Reader

[Warnings: Shitty boyfriend, enough said. Some swearing]

[Fic Genre: Headcanons, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff]

[Notes: I’m not exactly the best at writing anything pregnancy related but ya gotta practice somehow! Also it’s headcanons because I needed a break from writing full fics for a second.]

————————————————————

You realized you were late on your period so, just to be precautious, like your father taught you, you bought a pregnancy test, and waited for the results, anxiously waiting as you paced around the bathroom of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend, and when you got the results back, so many emotions flooded you as you saw those two little red lines, you were pregnant.

You knew you should tell your boyfriend, so you waited for his return from work. When you heard the door shut, you called him to the living room, then handing him the, cleaned, pregnancy test, you were nervous for his reaction, you were hoping he’d be at least supportive and help you, but instead he glared at the test before tossing it away, and then told you either you get rid of it or you’re breaking up.

His response made your body run cold, you never expected him to give you such an unpleasant ultimatum, abortion or breaking up, and you did not want to give up the baby, you had been wanting to be a mother for a while now, and now he’s trying to take that from you? After you’ve told him so many times that you were ready to be a mom? The man you’ve loved and were ready to be with forever, told you to give up your child.

So, you told him “Fine, if that’s the case, then you’re over.”

You gathered your essentials, not looking at him even as your heart broke, carrying a bag with your electronics, some clothes, and other important items, you left the apartment, texting the man you viewed as a grandfather to pick you up, you’re coming back to the manor after breaking up with your now ex boyfriend.

You waited for a few minutes with your thoughts, only now had you begun to realize all the red flags in your ex boyfriend, he never seemed interested in anything you said, whenever you brought up marriage or having kids, he would dismiss you, maybe it was about time you broke up, it probably just saved you from a horribly toxic relationship.

You were taken out of your thoughts when the familiar car pulled up to the parking lot of the apartment complex, your mind lightening slightly as you got up and got into the passenger seat, met by the butler and the man you and your siblings considered a grandfather, Alfred.

You explained the situation on the car ride to the manor, you could feel the sympathetic gaze coming from the older man as you pulled up to the imposing building, knowing you’d have to tell your family, and you could already guess their reactions.

[Bruce Wayne]

Bruce was the first one you told after you got back to the manor, it felt…awkward to say the least, telling your father you’re pregnant, but while you still feared a similar reaction to your ex boyfriend, Bruce didn’t react that way, he asked if you were alright, if you were worried, or ready. The fact that he had immediately focused on your wellbeing made you feel so much better about this situation.

Bruce would absolutely be a helicopter parent after you told him about your pregnancy, he would take you to the doctor appointments, he’d check on you hourly to make sure any of the symptoms of pregnancy weren’t bothering you too much. He’d absolutely get you the best doctors Gotham has to offer, or even doctors from outside the gloomy city, he wants you well taken care of.

All in all, he cares about his daughter, and he is very excited to be a grandfather, even if it’s just reminding him of his age, but he would want to help with setting up a nursery for the baby, 10/10 grandpa, he would adore the kid. (He’d also keep them the hell away from vigilantism.)

[Dick Grayson]

Now Dick would be the second person to know, and he, much like Bruce, would make sure you’re okay with everything that happened, while he’s excited to be an uncle, he also knows you just with through a breakup, and being the ladies (and men) man, he would be the one to comfort you through it, he’d help keep your mind off it by using horrible jokes and puns, he’d just be happy to make you smile.

Absolutely the one to feed in on your cravings if you get them, you want pickles and chips at three in the morning? Nightwing is seen in a 24/7 store trying to pick which one you’d like more, the media has a field day with that.

He’s the one that’s going to hold you through all of your emotions, your hormones are all over the place and he’s not going to be phased, you’re angry? He'll be angry at whatever you’re angry at with you. Sad about something you watched? He will be holding you through the tears. He’s had so many girlfriends, he knows how it works now, all the emotions that are bubbling up to the surface, and goddammit he will not let his little sister down.

Just a little thing, he absolutely loves baby shopping, adores it, he wants to buy every single outfit and toy, and is very pouty when you say you can’t get everything. Still picks out a shirt that says “Best Uncle” for himself, he taunts his brothers.

[Jason Todd]

Probably one of the last to know actually, he’s not at the manor a lot, so you’d have to tell him over text, and he would be breaking so many laws to speed his way to the manor because WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU'RE PREGNANT AND YOUR BOYFRIEND BROKE UP WITH YOU BECAUSE OF IT!? Immediately offers to take care of your ex, he does not care, nobody gets away with that on his watch, he probably would still try it even if you said no.

Once he calms down, he will actually be around the manor way more often, he’s watching over you, probably the one that helps whenever you get morning sickness, or just, throwing up in general. He looms, a lot. It’s scaring people and no he will not stop, don’t bother asking.

He’s probably really good at giving massages, would be the one to help when you’re further along and your body is starting to ache and be sore, he would not want you to move around a lot. If he could, he’d carry you.

(Very huffy after Dick got the “Best Uncle” shirt, would buy a second one and write a number two on it.)

[Tim Drake]

God, this poor man is so tired and experiencing a system restart when you tell him you’re pregnant. I feel like Tim would probably just nod before disappearing into his room and immediately starts to do research on what you can and can’t eat while pregnant, and literally everything else, definitely becomes the most knowledgeable on the subject of pregnancy.

Tim would make you a mood board or something for the nursery, specifically of things you like. It's honestly kinda odd how he got everything so correct, but it’s definitely nice to have a physical idea of what you want to do for your baby’s room.

He probably made a layout of the nursery to your exact specifications and is so ready to build everything for it, crib, toy chests, a rocking chair? He’ll be the first to start building everything, his brothers would have to get there quick enough to help as well, they’d have you sit in so they know where to put everything.

[Damian Wayne]

Damian would also offer to take care of you ex, except he would make it a statement, as in, he will be going after your ex, you will have to stop him, he will commit to it, don’t test him, he’s protective over his family.

Honestly, he’s probably very confused, but he’s trying his best, he understands that you shouldn’t be doing anything stressful, so even in your early stages of pregnancy, Damian would literally take anything remotely heavy from your hands and carry it for you, it’s sweet, but he does it every. single. time.

Damian is going to fight Dick for that shirt, he’s going to be the favorite uncle, but when he can’t get the shirt from his older brother? He buys a different one, “Favorite Uncle”, Dick may claim to be the best uncle, but he’s going to be the favorite uncle, he’s taunting everyone with this fact.

[Bonus: Alfred]

Alfred is the only one that actually knows what he’s doing, he was there when Bruce was born, he knows how to help a pregnant lady, which is a much needed comfort for you.

You secretly bought him a “#1 Great Grandpa” shirt, he is going to wear it when you have the baby, he adores the shirt, even if he doesn’t wear it often, it’s special to him.

————————————————————

[Requests are open!]

[oceantornadoo]

ch8 something borrowed something blue (mafia!price x simon's sister!reader)

tw: reader has some body insecurities and a small panic attack. also oral sex. not at the same time lmao

masterlist | next

In the hazy morning of the next day, John moves to get out of bed at his ungodly workout time. Instead of feigning sleep like usual, you grab his shoulder forcefully. He freezes, then turns to look at you as you prop yourself up on an elbow. “Stay.” You murmur, voice gravelly from sleep. “You sure?” He asks, but he’s already sinking back down into the mattress. You nod, then climb on top of him, your head in the crook of his neck like always. “Go back to bed, John.” And he does.

-

The thing is, John wasn’t supposed to marry her. She wasn’t Kyle’s first recommendation, nor second. He had recommended an oil heiress, which his Captain turned down. Next, an Irish mafia princess, also turned down. In fact, his Captain didn’t seem to want to be married at all. Which was fine, if this was a normal life where Kyle hadn’t been nicked off the streets after picking the pockets of a Price man and plopped into the office of John Price, a leader who needed sneaky men with audacity like Kyle. Now, Price was pushing 40 without heirs, and that needed to be solved quickly. The Riley sister was only offered as an offhand comment.

“Christ, sir, if y’re gonna be picky, might as well marry the Riley. Then we’ll have a real shitshow on our hands.” Instead of answering, John leaned back in his office chair and stroked his beard, like a villain from a movie. “She single?” If Kyle wasn’t better trained, his mouth would’ve dropped. But he was Head of Security for a reason, so all he did was hand his boss her file. 

Kyle didn’t like the Rileys - specifically, John MacTavish. The bastard was always trying to one up him, with new toys on the streets and the threat of bombs lurking around every corner. He knew MacTavish was close with Ghost’s sister, having seen the two giggle, thick as thieves, at galas and weddings. If he was a stupider man, he’dve sensed an affair, but he knew she wasn’t Tav’s type. It was a well-kept secret, but Kyle kept it as well as his own. There were some lines you didn’t cross, even in this business.

Price flipped through the file, frowning at the data before him. “Ghost has had these weapons all this time?” Kyle shakes his head, pointing to a graph in the report. “It only really started when he recruited MacTavish, ‘bout six years ago. An’ my sources tell me the sister’s got a mind f’r business.” Price hums thoughtfully. Kyle knows what, or who, he’s thinking about. Shepherd encroaching on their territory, supplied with weapons from American ex-pats. The streets smell of gunpowder, more and more skirmishes by the day. “Ghost’s tryin’ t’ get cleaner.” It wasn’t a question, but a fact. Kyle’s informants had made him aware of the Riley family trying to buy businesses, only to be turned away when they found out who they were owned by. Price’s businesses for Ghost’s money and weapons. “Might not be the worst trade, sir.” Kyle murmurs. He can’t believe he’s proposing a wedding where he’ll have to see MacTavish on the other side of the aisle. 

-

After said wedding, Kyle started regretting the whole thing. He knows what it is to love a man, to be in love with one, and that’s not what he has with his Captain. It’s more like seeing a big brother leave for college, knowing he’s nearby but out of reach. The plan was to have Mrs. X, as the security team had taken to calling Price’s future wife, live in a property an hour out of the city. Out of harm’s way but easy to visit when baby-making was required. The plan had been developed before they’d decided on a wife for him. It decidedly went out the window once he’d decided on Ms. Riley.

Suddenly she was in the Castle, changing decor and befriending staff. She was meeting with Laswell and had taken Terrance as her own, a change Kyle had not approved of. So, sure, he was a bit of a jerk to her. It was the childish notion that she’d taken his favorite person, and he’d lashed out, only to be reprimanded by said person. Kyle's in toddler timeout, and he's determined to make it right.

-

A few days after the Friday incident, he finds her eating lunch in the kitchen. It seems she’s finally befriended Chef, a feat he could never perform. Chef’s a French grandpa, huffing out syllables that don’t go together under his breath. 

“What’re ya eatin’?” An odd opening, seeing as this is their second conversation ever. He plops down into the chair next to her as she sets down her sandwich, brows furrowed in a question. He can’t blame his Captain; she is pretty. Not his usual type in women, but her wit would attract any man. “Um, a sandwich.” She eventually responds, after getting over the shock of Kyle in her kitchen chair. He probably could’ve been smoother on entry.

“Right, well…” He looks at her and she stares back, like they’re locked in a game. He breaks away first, feeling like he’s lost. Kyle reminds himself he’s not a bloody twelve-year-old. “I liked wha’ you did with the sittin’ room.” That opens her up, a hesitant smile growing on her face. “Really? Those chairs were so uncomfortable, I could barely sit on them for more than five minutes without getting sore.” He huffs in agreement. There’s a reason no one meets in the sitting room. “Ya sure tha’s no’ the only reason you’re sore?” It slips out too easy, a question he’d usually tease one of his men with, not his boss’s wife. Kyle opens his mouth to apologize but is cut off by the sound of her laughter. It’s not manufactured to sound pretty, almost like a snort. “Sorry, I just haven’t heard those kinds of jokes in a while. You remind me of Johnny. Thank you for making me laugh, Kyle.” She seems almost grateful for his presence, and it doesn’t take an idiot to see she’s missing her family. Even if that means getting compared to MacTavish.

“Call me Gaz, ‘s what everyone calls me.” She nods contentedly, reaching for her sandwich to take another bite. The silence is peaceful, interrupted when he remembers why he originally sought her out. Kyle pulls out a report he’s been carrying and sets it near her plate, noting how she sucks in a breath at the title. Protection Plan for Mrs. Price.

“Since y’r openin’ up y’r store, Price wanted me t’ give ya a team. Could’ve done it on my own but I had a feelin’ y’d want to give some input.” She nods thoughtfully, pushing her plate away to focus on the report. It’s a few minutes until she finishes it, diligently reading every page. “I want at least one woman on my team. And I still want freedom, I don’t want to be followed everywhere.” He sucks in a breath at her words, which won’t be possible if Price has anything to say about it.

“Righ’ well, can’t guarantee tha’ second part. Not sure if ya’ve noticed, but London’s an active war zone right now. They’ll be discreet, an’ the lowest amount I can do is four.” She harrumphs, crossing her arms like how his Captain does when he’s upset. It’s eerie how they’re already starting to mirror each other. “Fine, but I want Terrance on it.” Kyle nods, going to stand. 

“Gaz.” She grabs his forearm to get his attention. “I know we didn’t get off on the right foot, but I’d like to be friends. If you’re willing.” He gives her a half smile, ruffling her hair. Kyle doesn’t notice how she freezes at his action, like she’s trapped in a memory. “Only if ya give me the rest of y’r sandwich.” Unfreezing, she laughs and pushes the plate towards him. “Don’t worry, there’s enough to go around.” He winks at her, and heads towards the security room. He might’ve accepted Terrance’s earlier security report, but he’s determined to make it up to his Captain, starting with re-running Phil’s background. Kyle’s got some security tricks up his sleeve, and he’s ready to prove his title to John.

-

The dress fits you like a glove.

It’s a fresh Saturday night, London’s night sky only slightly smoggy. John’s been invited to some benefit for cancer, a philanthropic cause you didn’t even know he supported. So now, you’re in a formal red dress, floor length with a high thigh slit. You stand in front of your vanity and smooth down the satin fabric, ready to slip on your heels. You usually do that step first, but they’re a mile high and you didn’t want to risk slipping on the carpeted dressing room floor. John’s been in the shower, but now he’s buttoning his shirt in the other room. Your dress is unzipped too, requiring a force of nature for the zip to go all the way to the top.

“John, can you help me?” He’s there in an instant, arms circling the length of your waist. “You look so fuckin’ good. Smell fuckin’ delicious.” He noses the crook of your shoulder, breathing in the scent of your perfume. John rubs his hands up and down, smoothing out creases in your dress. “So pretty f’ me, aren’t ya?” All you can do is nod when he’s like this, allowing yourself the precious gift of easy affection. “Can you help me with my heels?” He kisses your exposed collarbone, then squeezes your hip as he goes to find your heels. They’re higher than what you’re used to wearing, putting you closer to eye level with John. He goes to his knees, finding your right leg through the layers of fabric in his way. You got a pedicure the day before, patting yourself on the back as he kisses the top of your foot. “What’s gotten into you? It’s like you're under a spell or something.” He’s quiet as he slips on your shoe, kissing your ankle before setting it back down. John reaches for your other foot in quiet reverence. “Ya look like a princess.” He finally murmurs, having finished with your heels. “You feelin’ ok?” He asks. You shrug. Clearly, you haven’t hidden your nerves well. This is your first official entrance into mafia society as a couple, even if the lines of your relationship are too blurry for you to understand. 

“Let me make ya feel better?” His hands are already tracing your plush skin, parting the slit of your dress. He works his way up efficiently, stopping at the apex of your thighs. “What’s this?” You shrug again, this time with a smirk on your face. “It’s black tie, right?” By black tie, you mean the black lace under your dress. It’s a little piece you found at a boutique lingerie store near the bookstore. There’s a heart cutout in the middle of the front part, right above your slit. John kisses the exposed skin, sucking hard before he pulls away. “Black tie my fuckin’ arse.” You giggle and push your hips forward in a wanting motion. “Weren’t you going to make me feel better?” He goes to work with a single-minded vigor. John pushes the scrap of lace to the side, nearing closer so he can lift your leg onto his shoulder. He doesn’t tease you like usual. Instead, he licks and sucks lewdly, moaning at your wetness. He flicks his tongue against your clit as it hardens at his motions. “Even sweeter down ‘ere.” The low tone of his voice vibrates against your cunt, sending a spark to your core. “She like when I talk to ‘er?” He’s talking to your cunt, you think. It’s hard to hear over the rushing of blood in your ears. All you do is nod, pushing his head closer with your free hand as your other one scrambles for purchase against the wood of your vanity.

“Thought so. So wet, baby, like I’ve been neglectin’ ya. Have I?” You shake your head as he keeps up the pace of his tongue, adding a finger into your hole to up the pressure. “No, no, not neglected.” You cry from near-overstimulation. You can practically feel him smile against your pussy, the scratch of his beard making the coil in your stomach grow tighter and tighter. “Thought so. Yer husband takes care of ya, tha’ righ’?” Your hips cant against his face, almost fucking it. “Yes, yes, John.” He sucks your clit hard, finger pumping in and out. “She’s so close I can fuckin’ taste it. Come for me, go’on.” And you do, pressure rushing out of your core in waves. “Good girl, baby. Knew you could do it.” He tugs your underwear back in place, cleaning up the cum on your thighs with his fingers. You hear him suck them clean, sending another shock to your core.

John stands, wiping his hands off on his slacks. He’s in a full tuxedo and wears a dashing red tie to compliment your dress. You quickly peck him on the lips and pull back before he can ruin your makeup. His beard pulls up in a half-smile, elated that you kissed him first. It’s not hard to tell he loves when you do that, returning his affection of your own volition. “Thank you, Mr. Price. You clean up well yourself.” You tug his tie playfully. “Now zip me up.”

He does it gracefully, fingers brushing your back as he inches the zipper up. You swear this dress is too small as you suck in more and more the higher he zips. Unfortunately, your husband has the power of turning any encouragement into sinful words whispered in your ear. “There we go, tight fit, love. Squeeze in, baby, tha’s a girl. Feel ok?” You can only nod, ribs heavily constrained. It reminds you of your wedding dress, except this time you chose to be trapped.

It’s a whirlwind of a drive as John helps you into the limo and helps you out only minutes later. The gala is at a nearby museum, but etiquette and uncomfortable footwear required you to drive. It’s a grand marble building, like a bigger version of John’s flat. Limos line the outside as people step out of cars dressed to the nines. You do have something to look forward to tonight - your family.

John guides you in with a hand to the back and you’re already escaping his grasp to search for Simon, who promised he was coming. Apparently, philanthropic foundations are great to donate to when you run a gang that needs some tax benefits. You’ve been to a few of these, but a glance at John’s upcoming calendar revealed he donates a lot more than your brother. A new routine to get used to. 

“On your left.” John murmurs, and sure enough, there’s the top of Simon’s blonde head. He’s Mr. Riley at these events, not Ghost. You hold yourself back from running. Instead, you gather your skirts and walk quickly towards him, ignoring how John’s hand slips from your back.

“Hi!” You don’t give Simon a chance to answer, smothering him in a hug. He picks you up at your waist and spins you, a remnant from your few shared childhood memories. “Hi, lovie. Look at you, all dressed up.” He sets you down gently. Simon’s hand brushes your left one, causing you both to glance at the ring on your hand. You catch a slight frown, but it disappears into the collage of scars on his face. “Doin’ ok?” He asks quietly, only at a volume you can hear. You glance back at John, who’s making small talk with Johnny as the two men stand nearby. You turn back to Simon with a small smile on your face, nodding shyly. “It’s goin’ ok.” He drags a hand down in his face in exasperation. “Christ, the way he looks at you, kid. Not somethin’ a brother should be seein’.” You groan, swatting his hand away. “Gross. You’re acting like I don’t have to constantly dodge you and Johnny making out.” You say it in present tense, like it’s a problem you’re still facing. Unperturbed, you grab his hand and make your way to the bar, leaving your dates behind. “C’mon, Si. Let’s catch up.”

-

You must’ve had black magic in that perfume of yours. It’s the only explanation for why John feels like this, like he can’t be untethered from you for more than a minute. He was worried this thing between you, new and delicate, was just lust, but it’s becoming clear it’s much more. It’s the way you immediately sought out your brother, not caring for social niceties. How you challenged him with your argument at the bookstore, fire in your eyes as you protected your livelihood. It’s all rolling into a grand, sticky mess in his heart, weighing heavier and heavier every day.

The gala is full of politicians milling against the backdrop of the London Art Museum. Paintings of old rich geezers surrounded by the bodies of new rich muppets. There’s some people dancing in a slow waltz in the middle of the room, with high tables bracketing the dance floor in a crude outline. He doesn’t think you’ve noticed any of this, content to abandon him high and dry in search of your brother. John exchanges niceties with Johnny MacTavish, then leaves him to find Kate. She’s around here somewhere, schmoozing with potential clients. She may work on retainer for John, but she’s an independent contractor in her own right, always on the lookout for the next big fish. 

He finds her eventually, talking to a MP far from the dance floor near a statue. “Lord Walsh.” John inclines his head at the man, who’s severely shorter than him with a significant bald spot. “Mr. Price. I’m surprised to see you here.” Jon frowns at the insinuation. Kate slowly inches towards John, looking polished in her navy pantsuit. “How so?” There’s danger laced in his words which Lord Walsh takes a few seconds too long to process. “I, well, excuse me.” He exits not-so-gracefully with sweat beads running down his receding hairline. John turns back to Kate, who’s wearing a rare smirk. “What?” She shakes her head, turning to face the crowd. “Sometimes I forget how much of a shark you are. Too used to seeing you surrounded by finery at home.” He snorts, turning with her. 

They both find his wife in the crowd, easy to spot with the shocking red of your dress. You’re throwing your head back in laughter at something Ghost said, giggling like a little kid. John feels a smile growing under his beard. Kate notices too, elbowing him in the side. “We get it, you’re disgustingly infatuated.” He shakes his head, dropping the smile. “‘S not like that.” She snorts, a rare show of emotion, a credit to how long they’ve worked together. “Whatever you say, John. Now let me find new clients before you scare them away.” He nudges her shoulder, content to stay alone as she walks away.

Unfortunately, his newfound solitude is immediately interrupted by a foul-smelling scent. He turns and lo and behold, there’s a phantom at his shoulder. “Lady Walsh.” John takes a step away from her, preventing their shoulders from brushing. “I saw you talking with my brother.” There’s a bite to her voice. It’s reminiscent of the one regrettable night they shared years ago, a night clouded with too much whiskey and not enough forethought. “Exchanging pleasantries.” He can hear her frown from a mile away. 

“Is there something you need?” He bites out when she doesn’t respond. Lady Walsh does this occasionally, finding him at events and trying for a recreation of that lone night. He didn’t consider it then, but he especially doesn’t consider it now. In fact, all he can do is track the sound of your laughter and drown in it, even across the dance floor. Lady Walsh leaves, and John decides to find the bar that you’ve abandoned and bring you a drink.

-

“I miss you, Si.” You mumble after your second martini. He’s found you two a table in the corner, somewhere you can hear each other over the quartet. “I do too, kid. Manchester’s different without ya.” You take a sip of his water, then spit it out when you realize it’s vodka. “Gross! Since when do you drink vodka?” He takes the glass out of your hand and downs it in one sip. “Johnny’s been on a kick. Think he’s been bored since ya left.” There’s immediate regret on his face as you take in his words. “No, love, ‘s not yer fault. There’s been other things happenin’. Nothin’s yer fault.” You nod, swallowing hard. “I think I’m gonna find the bathroom.” He nods worriedly. You push on the table to get up, but he stops you with a soft hand on your shoulder. Simon kisses your forehead, then shoves you towards the bathroom. “Don’t overthink. Go piss.” You snort, swatting his hand away.

In the bathroom, you stop in the mirror to apply your lipstick. A woman exits one of the stalls behind you, going to wash your hands. She’s like the image of your better self, with clearer skin and a figure you’d kill for. It’s the gin speaking, your brain reasons, but that doesn’t stave off any insecurities you’re projecting. Your heart is raw after your conversation with Simon, and this just makes it worse.

“You’re John’s new wife, right?” The mystery woman says as she finishes washing her hands. It shakes you out of your reverie. “Yes. I’m sorry, I don’t know your name.” She purses her lips, now reapplying her blush. “Lady Walsh. I’m not surprised; I don’t think John would’ve mentioned me.” You frown at her insinuation. She takes your silence as acceptance, turning towards you with a feline smile on her lips. “I’m surprised you’re even walking. Lord knows it took me a week to recover from the last night I spent with John.” Your mouth drops. “Anyways, love your dress!” She breezes past you in a whirlwind of soap and perfume, leaving the bathroom gracefully.

You, however, exit in a fit of starts and stops. Your chest aches with the pain of breathing, reminiscent of the panic attack you had in a London garden almost two months ago. That thought makes things worse, blurring your vision. Someone grabs your arm, a warm presence guiding you to a bench in a darkened hallway.

“Sweetheart, you okay?” It’s John.

“No, I- I just need a second.” In the background, you hear people laugh and glasses tinkle. John places a warm hand over your knee, grounding you to the moment. “In an’ out, yeah?” You nod as your breathing slowly calms. It’s just you and him for a second, listening to the sounds of your breath go in and out. “Want some water?” He moves to get up, but you grab his arm before he can. “Stay with me?” You whisper. John sits back down, wrapping that same arm around your waist to pull you closer. 

“Wanna tell me about it?” He kisses the temple of your head, and you stiffen under his touch. The change is noticeable as the air goes cold. “Why haven’t we fucked?” It bursts out of you, almost in anger. John’s shock is clear as day as his arm drops from your waist. “I- why’re you askin’?” His hesitation is not what you wanted to hear. “I talked to your friend in the bathroom. Lady Walsh.” John groans, dragging his hand down his face. “Christ.” You wrap your arms around your waist at the sudden chill between you. John shrugs off his blazer and places it on your shoulders. The scent of it is overwhelming: musk and pine and man.

“She an’ I happened once, years ago. Been followin’ me like a hound ever since.” That makes you feel slightly better, but the conversation brought out a monster you didn’t want to face head-on. Your insecurities over this limbo of a marriage have been haunting you, and now they’ve taken the form of that woman in the bathroom. “You didn’t answer my question.” You murmur. John nudges your shoulder, moving closer when you don’t scoot away. “I didn’t want t’ pressure ya. Could eat ya out every night an’ be the happiest man on earth.” You bark out a laugh. He takes it as a sign to close the distance between you, tucking you under his arm. “What about the kids? The heirs?” You emphasize it with an eye roll. He snorts, pulling you closer. “Ever heard of artificial insemination? Surrogacy? A lot they can do these days.” He talks like he’s a hundred years old and not barely 38. “Why wasn’t that in the contract to begin with?” He’s quiet. “Not sure, actually.” 

“I don’t think I want to do anything sexual for a while.” You eventually whisper. “‘S fine.” John replies. “I want to go to dinner.” You turn to him with a small smile on your face. “Ya want to go’on a date, baby?” You nod. He frowns in that way when he’s upset that he didn’t think of it first. A realization dawns on his face when he understands what you’re asking for. A new start, free from this societal gossip and pressure. John kisses your forehead gently. “Tha’ okay?” You nod like a lovesick teenager, giddy with the thought that he understands you so well. “Dance with me?” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it.

-

“Graves. Report?” The General is half-cloaked in the darkness of his office, eyes glinting through the shadows. “Comin’ along well, sir. Price has given himself a new weakness right when we needed one.” Shepherd hums in agreement. “Don’t fuck this up, Graves. You’re on your last strike.” Phil nods, backing out of the room. He will not mess this up. He can’t afford to.

-

yayyy gaz redeemed himself and we have a plot! i was lowkey getting worried. i hope nothing bad happens...

-

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[kingkaisen]

Gojo and reader's first fight?

Where they are ignoring each other or something and they don't really talk to each other

and megumi and yuji try not to make it obvious something is wrong in front of their sister so they don't worry her

In the end they make up

FIRST FIGHT

♡ — This fic is part of my dad!gojo series, but it can be read independently. All you need to know is that Satoru and the reader are a married couple with a young biological daughter, and they recently adopted Megumi and Yuji.

♡ — 𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓: angst, fluff, brief mention of Christmas (Santa, more specifically.)

♡ — 𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: I love this idea, anon! Thank you for contributing to the dad! gojo series!

During a peculiar, lazy weekend, the sky cloudy and the world moving at a slow pace, Megumi and Yuji were sitting on the couch in the living room playing video games together.

“Megumi!” Yuji frantically smashed a button on his controller with his thumb. “You’re telling me you exercise curses, but aiming in video games is your weakness?”

“Shut up. I was aiming perfectly.”

Suddenly, they heard faint shouting coming from upstairs, and after giving each other a puzzled look and pausing the game, they decided to sneakily investigate.

They creeped down the hallway quietly.

Satoru knew that the two boys were right outside of your bedroom door, listening. He was Satoru Gojo, after all.

But it truly didn't matter if they decided to eavesdrop or not, because either way, they knew that you were both fighting about something.

In fact, it probably would have been better for them to listen in, so they would know exactly what the argument was about instead of making assumptions, because as adopted children, they were more than likely going to assume that the argument was about them.

Especially Megumi.

He didn't like the idea of eavesdropping, but as he heard you fussing, his heart started to pound dreadfully within his chest.

Naturally, he assumed that he had done something wrong, and that tomorrow, he would be stuck sleeping on campus and once again without a proper family. So he needed to listen. Satoru knew that.

Yuji pressed his ear against your shut bedroom door and listened as best as he could.

Apparently, you were upset about Satoru's latest mission, which he had just returned home from and much later than you had expected. He didn't call until after he completed the job to let you know that he was finally on the way home.

That little incident also brought up a similar topic, which was that his work trips were happening more often and lasting for a longer amount of time.

Like a domino effect, one thing led to another. Soon enough, you were pointing out all of Satoru’s flaws and the potential impact it could have on you and the rest of the family.

And Satoru didn’t say a word, as he was in tears. He was hurt.

As Yuji listened through the door, Megumi suddenly tapped his shoulder. Yuji turned around and his brother pointed to the little girl making her way down the hallway, frowning sadly.

"Is mommy okay?" She darted her eyes between Megumi and Yuji, incredibly worried that something was wrong.

She sniffled.

The preschooler was very sensitive, born with a big heart and on the verge of tears more often than not.

Thinking that her mom might have been upset was enough to make her start crying, and Yuji could tell from that first sniffle that the waterworks weren't that far behind.

"Come here, Maya Papaya," Yuji smiled brightly, knowing how much she loved that nickname.

The young girl instantly ran up to her crouching brother. He picked her up, rising to his feet as he carried her away from your bedroom door.

"Everything's fine, don't you worry," Yuji softly pinched her cheek, and she squealed adorably. “Don’t get too close to their door, alright? I think they’re planning your super duper awesome surprise party, and we don’t wanna listen in on that, right?”

"Nuh uh!" She shook her head. "I'm gonna be - I'm gonna be five! I hope they invite Barbie 'cause my friend said that . . . that Barbie came to her birthday party and I want Barbie to come to my birthday party."

Yuji started to walk away from your bedroom door with Maya in his arms and Megumi following closely behind.

Yuji didn't know it, but Satoru sighed in relief.

— ♡ —

A few hours had passed.

You and Satoru were doing a horrible job at pretending nothing was wrong.

Satoru looked like a kicked puppy, his blue eyes glistening with sadness even when he tried to fake a smile, and you were stress cleaning all afternoon.

The clinks and clanks of pots and pans being arranged in the kitchen made Maya start to worry once again.

You were being loud. Louder than usual.

And dad hadn't come out of the bedroom.

"Hey," Megumi called out, grabbing her attention. "You know what would be really nice? If you went upstairs and gave Satoru a big hug.”

“Who’s that, Meg-mi?” Maya tilted her head a bit, confused.

She didn’t know who Satoru was. There was only one person upstairs, and his name was dad.

“Uh . . .” Megumi looked down at the floor. He wasn’t comfortable using those affectionate, heavy titles yet — mom and dad.

Yuji noticed his brother’s darting dark eyes.

“He meant to say dad. Why don’t you go and give dad a hug?” Yuji smiled softly.

“Okay!”

The pitter-patter of their younger sister’s feet could be heard as she ran upstairs.

Satoru knew that his little girl was making her way toward his room. Even without his gifted eyes aiding him, he could hear her excited giggles from the hallway.

Wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, he sniffled a bit, and put on his biggest and brightest artificial smile as she ran into his room and shouted, “Daddy!”

“Is that my little muffin?” Satoru sat on the edge of the bed, leaning down a bit and holding his arms out for Maya to run into.

He picked her up gently and sat the girl down on his lap.

“I came to hug you,” she beamed. Just then, she noticed that her dad looked a bit different.

His blue eyes were teary, and his cheeks and nose were red.

“What’s wrong, daddy?” With a sad frown, her tiny hand reached up to pat his cheek, attempting to wipe away the glistening wetness where he had failed to dry his tears properly before her arrival.

Satoru’s didn’t answer immediately. He didn’t know what to say.

He didn’t want to worry her, but he never wanted to lie to his little girl either, except when it was related to her health and safety — and her amusement as well, as he’d go above and beyond to make sure his daughter believed in Santa Claus, including sneaking around the house wearing a fake beard and a pillow underneath his red and white costume.

“Do you remember when we had that little talk about emotions? And I explained what they were?” Satoru asked softly.

“Uh huh,” Maya nodded.

“Well, right now, I’m feeling sad, and so is mommy. But I don’t want you to worry, okay? It’s completely normal to feel sad sometimes.”

Maya blinked at him. Satoru could tell based on the slight tilt of her head that she was thinking, putting her little mind to work.

Suddenly, she reached up, wrapping her little arms around Satoru’s neck, hugging him.

“Aren’t you sweet?” Satoru said, gently rubbing her back. “Thank you for the hug, muffin.”

“We can go play so that you can feel happy!”

It was an offer Satoru couldn’t refuse. With a grin — a real, genuine one this time — Satoru got off of the bed, carrying Maya to her room where they would play with her toys together.

— ♡ —

Meanwhile, as you were aggressively scrubbing down your stove with your soapy sponge, two figures appeared in the archway of the Tuscan kitchen.

You glanced over at your two adopted sons, then back down at the stove.

“I’m ordering pizza for dinner. I don’t feel like cooking right now,” you mumbled. “Sorry.”

“We didn’t come in here to ask you about dinner,” Megumi replied.

“We wanted to know if you were okay,” Yuji frowned worriedly.

“I’m alright.” Your sponge started to bend and tear as you scrubbed the spotless stove. Your reddened waterline was brimming with hot tears.

“You should stop cleaning,” Yuji took a step forward. Cautiously, he grabbed your wrist, preventing you from scrubbing. “Get some rest, mom.”

Sadly, you laughed. Though it was more of a small broken cry. Shaking your head, you said, “I can’t.”

“Why not?” Yuji asked, his sad eyes staring into yours.

“It’s not really something I should discuss with my two teenage boys, okay?”

“Let me guess,” Megumi paused. “Resting would mean going upstairs, and that’s where Satoru is, and you’re trying to avoid him because you’re still mad at him, right?”

“Wrong,” you frowned at Megumi, and Yuji released your wrist, but he also took the sponge out of your grasp. “I’m avoiding him because I know I made him cry, and I can’t believe . . . I was cruel enough to do something like that. But like I said, it’s not something for the two of you to worry about.”

Your words simply went through one ear and out the other, because suddenly, Yuji was once again grabbing your wrist.

Ignoring your protests, he practically dragged you upstairs.

Locating Satoru was rather easy thanks to the sound of childlike laughter coming from Maya and muffled cartoony noises coming from Satoru, which could be heard from the hallway.

Stepping into Maya’s room where she and Satoru were sitting on the floor, playing with her toys, Yuji said, “Sorry to interrupt.”

Satoru’s eyes darted between you, Yuji, and Yuji’s loose grip on your wrist.

“What’s going on?” He asked.

“You two need to talk,” Yuji looked back at you, and then glanced at Satoru. “Please talk. I know I don’t understand what marriage is like, and maybe I should just mind my own business, I don’t know, but . . . you’re both hurting each other right now and I think you should work it out.”

Yuji let go of your wrist. He walked toward his sister, leaned down, picked her up, and carried her out of her bedroom, shutting the door behind him.

“Don’t come out until you’ve both made up!” Yuji shouted.

Footsteps echoed through the home as he made his way downstairs with Maya.

Satoru rose to his feet, picking up Maya’s toys and carrying them to her purple toy bin and putting them away silently.

What an awkward silence it was — the two of you, standing in the middle of your daughter’s room, unsure of what to say to one another.

After all, arguments were incredibly rare. And this was the first time it had ever occurred with your children around.

“If you aren’t ready to talk yet, that’s fine.” Satoru broke the silence with his soft spoken words, unable to look into your eyes. “We can put on a good face in front of the kids and tonight . . . I can sleep downstairs in the guest room-”

“No, absolutely not,” you interrupted with a frown.“I’d never kick you out of our bed, Satoru.”

Satoru sighed.

“I’m sorry,” you paused hesitantly. “I shouldn’t have spoken to you the way that I did. I was just worried when you didn’t come home on time. It’s a dangerous world and you’re always right in the center of it, fighting. The thought of something bad happening to you kills me because I love you and I need you. But that isn’t an excuse to make you feel like you’re a bad husband and a bad father because that isn’t true at all. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” You tried to look into his eyes, but he still wouldn’t meet your gaze. “Please look at me.”

It took a moment, but eventually, Satoru’s glassy eyes stared into yours. The overwhelming sadness that was visible within them broke your heart.

“I’m sorry, Satoru,” you said once again, and as sincerely as you could.

Satoru was silent. Much like Maya did to him earlier, he tilted his head slightly, thinking.

“I forgive you.” He stepped forward, and gently, he hugged you. “And I’m sorry I worried you. I know you have a lot on your shoulders. I’ll be more careful, I promise.”

A small sigh of relief fell from between your lips when you felt your husband’s arms around your body.

“Hey,” pulling away from the hug, Satoru smiled down at you. “Let’s go out for dinner, just you and me. We can go to that restaurant you like.”

“What about the kids?”

“They’ll be fine, baby. Pizza’s being delivered here and they know how to take care of Maya and themselves. They’ll be fine if we’re gone for a couple of hours.” Satoru grabbed your hand. “Do you wanna go?”

Happily, you nodded, and the smile that graced Satoru’s face was absolutely beautiful.

And, when you both shared with your children that you were going out for dinner together, their own victorious smiles were just as sweet.

— Next Part.

[cosmopretty]

Jealous Girls

Synopsis: You can’t help but be jealous of how much time your girlfriends Paige and Azzi were spending together without you

warnings: smut, nsfw

Ever since basketball season started both of your girlfriends have been spending so much time together practicing and you’ve been feeling left out. You know it’s for basketball and they’re just trying to get better but it still bothers you.

So recently you’ve been avoiding the two of them since your feelings were hurt. And you knew you should have just talked to them but you were way too petty to confess that you were jealous.

Now it’s been two days since you have talked to either of them, and it drove them crazy. The three of you all lived in an apartment together so you’ve just been staying at your friend’s dorm. Both of them have been texting your phone but you just kept leaving them on seen. Today was their first day off since the season started and the fact that you weren’t with them right now pissed them off.

“You where the fuck is our girl?” Paige groans throwing her phone across the couch. Her and Azzi came home this morning after a workout to surprise you, they had flowers and chocolates but you weren’t there. Both of them had texted your phone multiple times and have gotten no answer back.

Azzi gets up and grabs Paige’s keys and opens the door “Let’s go grab her and bring her back here, come on” she waves her hand and walks out the door with Paige behind her.

They drive down to the dorms where your friend stayed and parked the car. Hopping out of the car they immediately spot you sitting on the bench your knees in your chest while you speak to a blonde girl next to you. They didn’t know who the hell that was, and it was not your friend.

Storming over to you Paige stops infront of you, towering over you as she crosses her arms “So who’s this?” she asks you. Azzi stands behind her staring at you waiting for your response. They knew you would never cheat on them, but you haven’t talked to them in days and now they see you with someone random girl, who looks a little to similar to Paige. It made them assume something was going on.

“This is my friend’s cousin she’s having boyfriend problems so I’m helping her” You tell them crossing your arms while you stare up at Paige, challenging her. The girl next to you stands up and pats your shoulder “I think I should go, good luck with that and thank you” she says before walking away not giving you a chance to respond to her.

Azzi’s eyes soften when she looks at you, she could tell something was wrong she could read you like a book.

Paige sucks her teeth “So you can’t talk to us for days but can talk to some random bitch” she scoffs while Azzi grabs her arm, giving her a look.

Sitting on the bench you shrug and look away from the two, staring at the flowers on the grass to your left. Paige grabs your jaw, turning your head and making you look at her “Get your ass up and get in the car I’m not playing with you lil girl” she says through her teeth before abruptly letting go and walking away.

You walk to the car quietly not saying a word to with of them while Azzi can’t take her eyes off of you. She couldn’t understand why you were acting like this, you wouldn’t even look at them when you all sat in the car. No one said a word as Azzi drove you all back home, you sat in the back your arms crossed as you stared out the window, Paige watching you.

Once you all got back into the apartment you tried to go to the bedroom, but Paige dragged you to the couch. She sat you down and stood infront of you with Azzi by her side, both of them staring down at you.

“What’s wrong with you? What happened baby?” Azzi asks in a sweet voice bending down infront of you. Her hand comes to hold your knee and instead of leaning into her touch like always you flinch away bring your knees to your chest.

Finally making eye contact with Azzi, you blink away tears “You guys are what’s wrong, it’s not fair” you mumble pouting.

Both Paige and Azzi look at one another confused before Paige comes and sits down next to you “I dont get it, tell us what’s wrong” she says concerned, staring at the side of your face.

“You guys always together all the time and then there me. It’s not fair why am I always left out” You grumble crossing your arms across your chest.

Paige looks at you dumbfounded “The only time me and Azzi are together without you is for basketball” she tells you as if you were a child and not junior in college.

You ignore her and roll your eyes Azzi grabs your chin and makes you look at her “Don’t roll your eyes you sound like a brat right now. You’re mad because we were spending too much time playing basketball then with you. Even though you know how important this season is” she scoffs standing up and towering over you once again.

Scrunching your eyebrows “No- I’m not- well” you stutter and Paige laughs at you grabbing your arm and pulling you up. She drags you to the bedroom with Azzi following behind “Babygirl just wants attention, since you want attention baby we’ll give you attention” she smirks.

The blonde lets go of your arm and pushes you down on the bed and starts stripping you of your clothes. Once you’re bare infront of her and Azzi, she leans down kissing down your body till she gets to your core.

She blows on your folds and your body jerks up so Azzi climbs next to you holding you down “Poor baby just needed some attention huh” she teases you holding your waist down against the bed.

Paige’s big hands hold your thighs apart as she dips her head down into you. Her tongue licks a stripe through your folds and you moan your back arching. She smirks and starts sucking your clit, her teeth pushing against you.

A feeling a euphoria washes over you when she pleases you. So Azzi bends down and starts kissing your chest, her mouth comes down to suck on one of your nipples. Your hands come to her head trying to pry her off of you. So she grabs both your hands with one of hers and holds them above your head. She pulls away from your boob with a pop “Nuh uh baby bad girls don’t get to touch you’ll just take what we give you” she says sweetly her big eyes staring at yours distracting you from Paige.

Before you can realize Paige has let go of one of your thighs she shoves two of her long fingers into you.

“Fuck- fuck Paige” You whine moaning your back arching from the stretch her fingers were causing you.

She starts pumping her finger in and out of you, her fingers pushing through your gummy walls. No matter how many times she stretches you out, you’re still so tight for her.

Azzi stared down at you in awe, she thought you were the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen. Her other hand comes to cup your cheek, her thumb brushing against your soft skin “Your so beautiful, pretty thing” she whispers leaning down and kissing your lips.

Being stuck under the two of them, you could barely talk or move. They did whatever they wanted to you, you were at their mercy.

Your stomach tightens at her words and Paige’s fingers pushing inside you. You were about to cum and Paige could tell by the way your thighs were starting to close around her head. She starts sucking on your clit harder and curling her fingers inside you.

Azzi dominants the kiss sliding her tongue in your mouth pushing it down your throat. Her hand moves from your cheek to your neck squeezing slightly as you gasp. Pulling away from the kiss you moan your head falling back “Mm gonna cum, please- please” you beg your walls squeezing around Paige’s fingers. You felt like something was about to snap inside of you, the pleasure becoming too much for you.

Her fingers push deeper into you, harder than before hitting that sweet spot inside you. Paige’s pulls away from your clit and rubs your clit with her thumb “Aw pretty baby wants to cum” she teases “Come on then baby cum for us” she tells you as her fingers speed up inside if you.

Your hips jerk up as you gush all over her fingers soaking her and the sheets. Paige smiles to herself slowing down her pace “Damn baby” she says staring down at you. Azzi turns around and sees the mess you made and she shakes her head “Poor girl really needed this huh” she teases you turning back around to face you as you cover your face embarrassed.

Laughing a bit Azzi lets go of your neck and moves her hand to pet your head “You fucking squirted baby that’s so hot” Paige says coming up and kissing you roughly, pulling her fingers out of you.

That night ended up with the three of you in sheets, showing each other how much you really missed one another.

[urvampygf]

CROSSING BOUNDARIES

( Bsf!Chris x Inexperienced!Reader )

after the last time they saw each other, tensions grow between reader and Chris as they take it a step further, although not all the way just yet.

Pt. 1 / Pt. 2 / Pt. 3 / Pt. 3.5

-`✮´- 4k

contains. tension, pining, flirting, teasing, kissing, jerking off, handjobs.

It’s been two weeks since Chris last saw Y/N. She hasn’t exactly been avoiding him—just conveniently busy every time he asks to hang out. She isn’t ashamed or regretful about what happened between them. But she knows that their dynamic has shifted.

Now she’ll get all flustered and shy around him. She’ll make things awkward. And she doesn’t want to burden him with her nervousness—so, instead, she keeps her distance.

All is well in Y/N’s quiet avoidance—until Matt unknowingly forces her to face what she’s been running from.

Y/N shows up at the triplets’ place around 9PM. She’d almost canceled. In fact, she’d even typed out a half-hearted “might be too backed up with studying tonight” text… But then Matt sent her a dorky selfie, grinning with a family-size bag of candy, followed by a text: “This could be yours.”

So now she’s here. Standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, trying to look casual, while Chris leans on the corner of a wall—lazy smile on his face like he knew she’d come.

“Look who decided to show up,” Chris teases, his voice easy, but his eyes track her like he’s been waiting.

Y/N shrugs off her jacket and tosses it over the back of the couch.

"Blame Matt’s bribery. I’m only here for the sugar.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

They sit around for a while, casually yapping Nick’s ear off while he hastily edits a video he’d been procrastinating—as per usual.

Y/N, though, is clearly caught up in her own head, stealing shy glances at Chris when she thinks no one’s looking. Matt and Nick stay oblivious, but Chris picks up on it almost immediately.

He can tell she’s nervous, maybe even a little embarrassed. Her eyes flicker to the side every time his hand just so happens to graze her thigh, and he keeps doing it, watching her reaction like it’s a game.

“I am fucking STARVED—like, I could eat a whole mother fucking horse.” Nick groans dramatically, still focused on the laptop in front of him.

“I haven’t eaten since breakfast…” Matt chimes in, a bit calmer than his brother.

“…You mean 3PM?” Y/N jabs, mocking their absolutely wrecked sleep schedules with a grin.

“Yeah, yeah, we get it, kid—you’re better than us,” Matt fires back playfully, pushing himself off the couch and heading for his keys on the kitchen island.

"Where you off to, limpy?” Chris quips as he leans back against the couch, glancing over his shoulder at his brother with a proud grin.

“Don’t fucking call me that,” Matt responds, his voice flat, irritation evident in his tone as he shoves his feet into his shoes.

“What’s the matter, Ya ankle hurtin’?” Chris doubles down, his arms resting casually on the back of the couch.

“I’ll kill ya,” Matt mutters nonchalantly, walking toward the front door without even sparing Chris a glance.

“If you’re gettin’ food, I’m coming with ya. You always fuck up my order,” Nick says, shutting his laptop abruptly. He’s already halfway to the door, his feet sliding into his shoes as if he’s been silently begging for a reason to take a break.

Matt, standing at the top of the stairs, raises an eyebrow, his thumbs tapping on his phone screen. “I don’t even know where we’re going yet—” He glances up, ready to protest, but Nick’s already marching past him.

“We’ll figure it out on the road!!” Nick cuts him off, grinning like he’s won some invisible battle.

They leave quickly, Matt not bothering to ask Y/N or Chris if they want anything. He knows they’ll want food, he’ll just text them once Nick makes a decision for everyone.

That leaves Chris and Y/N alone, the silence between them loud and awkward.

Y/N suddenly feels the weight of the moment. She’s alone with the guy whose face was just smushed between her thighs a couple weeks ago. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t think about that night—she replays it daily. It’s frustrating, especially when she’s touching herself, trying to relive the feeling of him.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted it to be a one-time thing. Her heart says it should be—to spare her from the messy shit that always follows. But her body, her mind? They beg to differ.

Y/N shifts slightly on the couch, toying with the strings of her pants.

The silence stretches until Chris finally breaks it, his tone casual, like he’s just simply asking about the weather.

"…So, you still thinking about it?”

Her eye meet his, blinking as her heart rate picks up.

“What?”

Chris raises an eyebrow, the corners of his mouth tugging into a smug grin. That teasing glint in his eyes is impossible to miss.

“Y’know—when ya tried to kill me with your thighs.” He leans back a little, lazy confidence in his posture. “Seemed pretty into it.”

Y/N'a eyes flick down to her lap. “…Of course I think about it. Haven’t really stopped,” She mumbles, her voice quieter than usual, almost shy, which makes Chris ease up on the teasing.

“Yeah… yeah, me too.” He says it softly, voice trailing off as he tries to find the right words.

Chris shakes his head, a small laugh escaping him. “Okay, no, no, no—I’m not gonna have you goin’ all shy on me. Not happenin’.” He sighs, leaning his upper body toward her with a playful yet caring look.

“I’m not goin’ shy, I just… I don’t know. Maybe I am.” Y/N's words come out softer, the vulnerability peeking through despite her best efforts to brush it off.

“Ya know, I thought you weren’t gonna talk to me anymore,” Chris raises his concern without an ounce of hesitation.

Y/N glances at him. “I wasn’t avoiding you.”

“You kind of were.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between them before Y/N shyly admits, “I don’t know how to act around you anymore.”

“Why not?” Chris asks, his tone losing the playfulness as his eyes narrow, confusion creeping in. His tone stays nonchalant, but his posture shifts—one palm resting on his knee, his forearm crossing over the other.

Y/N bites her lip, glancing up at him with uncertainty. She pauses, then blurts it out before she can stop herself. “That night… why did you stop me?”

Chris lets out a quiet scoff of a laugh, arms folding casually over his chest. “Oh, so that’s what’s got you all upset, huh?”

But he doesn’t dodge the question. His voice stays even, maybe a little teasing, but honest. “You were tryin' too hard,” he says simply. “Felt like you thought you owed me or somethin'.”

The words hit harder than she expected—because that was how she felt.

“I… I guess I did kinda feel like I owed you,” she admits, her voice small.

Chris tilts his head slightly, his expression unreadable. “Why?”

“I don’t know,” she breathes out. “I don’t know what I’m doing with this shit…”

“Okay, but you’re not clueless,” Chris says, his voice calm. “And it’s not a big deal. You’re okay. I’m not, like… annoyed or anything.”

“I kinda am clueless,” Y/N mutters, an awkward chuckle failing to mask her insecurity.

“Oh yeah?” Chris raises a brow, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “How so?”

There’s a challenge in his voice, kind of like he doesn't believe her.

“Well—” she pauses. “I’ve done shit with guys before… helped 'em get off or whatever. But no one’s ever really told me if I was doing anything right. Or wrong. I just kind of… hoped I was doin' okay.”

That got his attention. Chris turns his head, eyebrows pulling together.

“Did they ever finish?” he questions, leaning in slightly.

“Well, yeah—”

“Then you got nothing to worry about.” Chris leans back again, his tone light and dismissive. Like he’s shrugging off her worry as simple insecurity.

“But I don’t wanna guess,” Y/N protests, her voice soft and steady. “I—I wanna know.”

Chris watches her for a second. “It’s not that hard. You just go by what gets a reaction—and what doesn’t.” He pauses, running a hand over the back of his neck. “I could… show you. What I mean.”

The words hang between them, heavier than he intended. His eyes flicker to hers, nearly uncertain now.

“If you want,” he adds quickly, voice softer this time, like he's making himself nervous.

“What do you mean, show me?” she asks carefully—not uncomfortable, just hesitant; not wanting to assume too much.

Chris shrugs, trying to play it off like it’s nothing serious, even though his eyes completely follow hers. “I could show you what I like. You just watch. Shit, you could even join me… if you’re up for it.”

Y/N’s lips part like she wants to say something, but nothing comes out. Her mind’s racing—caught somewhere between what the fuck is happening and why does that sound kind of… hot?

She finally lets out a breath that slips into a soft laugh. “Well that’s intense.”

Chris chuckles, looking off to the side like he's searching for someone to save him from his own suggestion. “I mean—yeah. But it doesn’t have to be crazy shit. Just… honest.”

Her eyes shoot down to his mouth, then back up. She bites her lip. “How would we even do that?"

Chris shrugs, more relaxed now. “Could just be me showing you what I like. Nothing more.. unless you want it.”

A long pause stretches between them.

Y/N softly speaks up, “Would it be weird if I said I wanted to try?”

Chris raises his brows, a slow smile easing onto his lips. “Not even a little.”

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

Chris doesn’t give Y/N a second to catch her breath before pressing her back against the now-shut bedroom door, his mouth crashing into hers like he’s been waiting weeks for it—and that's because he has. The kiss is messy and familiar, fueled by pent-up tension.

She gasps against his mouth, letting out a breathless laugh against his lips. “Gotta get hard first, huh?” Y/N teases between kisses, her tone breathy but teasing.

Chris lets out a low chuckle against her lips, grinning against her. “Won’t be too difficult with you lookin’ like that.”

His hands slide down to her hips, fingers kneading into the skin like close isn't close enough for him.

Chris gently pulls her away from the door, his lips still devouring hers with a hunger stronger than the first time they did this. He walks them backward, guiding her without breaking the kiss, until the back of his thighs bump into the edge of the mattress.

He breaks away just long enough to tug his hoodie over his head, the motion quick and clumsy, like he can’t stand to be separated from her for more than a second. The moment it hits the floor, his mouth meets hers again, hands finding their way to her waist like he’s trying to memorize the shape of her.

Y/N’s hands slide up to his shoulders, fingertips brushing the edge of his tank top before rushing to bury themselves in his hair.

Chris finally pulls back, his chest rising and falling as he catches his breath, his skin radiating a comforting warmth. “I think you got me worked up enough,” he mutters, that familiar cocky attitude returning as a smirk spreads across his lips like he knows exactly what he’s doing.

Y/N lets out a soft, flustered laugh, biting her lip as she glances to the side, her reaction half amusement, half embarrassment. Her cheeks are already warm, but now the blush quickly spreads to her ears.

Without breaking eye contact, Chris settles onto the bed, one arm propped behind his head like he’s just chilling. He pats the space beside him, his gesture casual—even there’s nothing casual about this situation.

Y/N hesitates for only a second before moving, swallowing her nerves as she sits beside him. Not too close, not too far. Her heart thumps as she adjusts her position, trying to figure out the right amount of space; close enough to seem confident, far enough to not seem desperate.

She ends up somewhere in the middle. And it still feels completely wrong.

“Don’t be nervous,” Chris says, his voice low as he bumps his knee against hers. “You’re just watchin’ me jerk off, that’s all. Totally casual.”

He squints playfully at her, grin growing with every second he sees her try not to laugh.

Y/N shakes her head and covers her mouth, amusement tugging at her lips despite herself. “You’re insane,” she mutters, her voice light and teasing through a quiet chuckle.

Chris’s grin lingers as he leans back on the bed. “You sure you’re good?” he asks, eyes scanning over her to search for any hint of discomfort.

Y/N nods, her smile dimming into a softer nervous yet curious one. “Yeah. I’m good.”

Chris hums low in his throat, looking away for a second like he’s letting the moment breathe, giving her time to collect herself. Then, slowly—almost lazily—he shifts his hips and runs his palm down the front of his sweats, not directly touching anything yet, just letting the implication sit.

“I’m not gonna, like, make it weird,” he mutters with a smirk, glancing at her out the corner of his eye. “Unless you want it to be.”

Y/N’s eyes drift downward, sucking in an audibly shaky breath. She shifts slightly, straightening her posture like she's trying to hide that he's totally caught her off guard.

Chris huffs a quiet laugh through his nose, clearly amused. His eyes stay on her, lips pulling into something close to a smirk as he bites down gently on his bottom lip. “You’re lookin’ real focused,” he whispers, practically eye fucking her as he subtly palms himself.

She doesn’t answer, just lifts her gaze to meet his. Chris takes her curious stare as a green light. He runs a hand through his hair—a nervous habit she grown to know all too well by now.

A quiet chuckle escapes him, almost uncertain. His tongue flicks out to wet his bottom lip as his eyes drift from hers. He doesn’t look at her when he slips his hand beneath the waistband of his boxers, which sit just above the edge of his sweats. He’s still concealed, his movements slow, measured.

The reality of the situation finally hits Y/N. She bites her lip, almost instinctively. She’s seen Chris shirtless countless times—at the beach, at the pool, towel slung low on his hips fresh out of the shower. Fuck, he’s even mooned her a couple of times just to make her laugh.

But this?

This is more than that. This is different.

Finally, Y/N speaks, her voice quiet. “Do you… like when someone watches you?”

Chris’s jaw tightens at the question, his heavy eyes widening for a moment. The intensity fades quickly, replaced by his usual calm control. He exhales slowly, voice now husky. “Yeah.”

She swallows hard, shifting again where she sat, thighs pressing tighter together as heat pooled low in her stomach. It was ridiculous how hot this was—sexy even. He wasn’t even exposed, and she could barely contain herself.

She notices the subtle shift in his breathing, the way his posture changes when he touches himself. His jaw tightens, brows pinching in quiet concentration. But he keeps himself out of sight, hand moving slow beneath the fabric, keeping the reveal just out of reach. Like he was letting her adjust.

Chris glances over at her again, lips parted, breath a little heavier now, as if he’s no longer trying to hide how good it feels. His eyes find hers for just a second before he moves to rest his free hand gently on her thigh.

His thumb begins to move, slow circles against her skin. His touch serves as a quiet invitation. A silent you can join if you want.

Her breath hitched and he must’ve heard it, because the corner of his mouth twitched upwards.

Y/N looks at him with a flustered look in her eyes. Her chest rises with a slow, shaky breath, needing to speak but struggling to find the words.

“Can I?..”

The question comes out quick. Vague. Nervous. But her eyes don’t leave his, silently asking him to understand what she meant without making her say it.

Chris huffs out a quiet laugh. His smile grows cocky as his hand still lazily works beneath his boxers.

“Can you what?” he murmurs, tilting his head just enough to make her shudder. “Hm?”

He knows what she’s asking. Of course he does, he's not dumb. But he’s not going to let her off that easy. He wants her to say it.

“Chris—” she huffs, a teasing warning in her tone. “You know what I want.”

Her voice has that spark again, the one he didn’t realize he’d missed until now. It makes his smug grin soften into something more genuine.

He leans back slightly, eyes scanning her face with something warmer behind them.

“There she is,” he mutters with a low chuckle, clearly pleased. “Took you long enough.”

He still wants to fluster her—can’t help it. But fuck, he missed this version of her. The one who gave him shit right back.

“You—wanna take over?” Chris asks, breath catching mid-sentence as his cock twitches in his hand.

Y/N nods.

He pulls his hand away, glancing at her for confirmation. Then, with a swift motion, he pushes his boxers and sweats down just enough to let himself spring free.

Her breath caught at the sight of him. Him, her best friend, in front of her like this.

He didn’t look at her right away, just kept quiet. He was giving her space. Letting her look, take it in, feel whatever she needed to feel without commentary.

“How—how do you… um… like it?” Y/N asks, her voice shaky, nervousness clear in her tone. She's not feeling scared or pressured, just nervous. Because she wants him to feel good. Because she doesn't want to fuck this up.

She wraps her hand around the base of his dick, and Chris exhales softly, a noise that just kind of slipped out.

“Just… uh—tight and slow? I—I don’t know…” He stumbles over his words like he’s forgotten how to speak. He collects himself before continuing, “It’ll feel good no matter what. Don’t worry.”

He drags his eyes up to meet hers, his gaze soft and warm, fond almost.

She offers a small, shy smile in return, flattered by the reassurance—and already knowing the answer to her unspoken question.

“And why’s that?”

Chris’s smirk widens, playful but sweet.

“’Cause it’s you, ma.”

Y/N can’t help the soft smile that eases onto her lips as she begins to stroke him, just the way he said he liked—slow and tight. Her body leans in, drifting closer without even realizing it, her focus locked entirely on his face.

Sure, she could be staring at his pretty cock in her hand right now; But his face? His reactions? That's all she really cares about.

His lips are parted, breath shallow, swallowing every sound that might slip out too easily. She watches the tension in his jaw, the way his lashes flutter, how his brows knit together in that desperate way she’s never seen from him before. He looks so fucking needy, so fucking pathetic. And god is it sexy.

“You okay, Chris?” Y/N teases, her voice laced with a sultry kind of innocence that didn’t exist a few minutes ago. The shift in her confidence is subtle, but unmistakable, and it has him fucking reeling.

Her wrist twists with every stroke, a slight squeeze at the head making his hips twitch. Chris lets out a breathy chuckle, the sound almost strained. “Don’t start with me,” he warns, his tone daring, though his grin betrays him.

His eyes squint open, catching the soft, sly smile on her lips, the one that says she knows exactly what she’s doing. She's playing coy. Everything about her in this moment feels deliberate, like she’s playing a character, and he’s completely fucked for it.

“Where’d all this confidence come from?” Chris manages, his voice rough and strained, eyelids squeezed shut like he’s fighting the need.

Y/N grins and tilts her head, her strokes never faltering. “Beats me,” she says airily, leaning in just a bit closer. “Why, you complainin’?”

His lips part, a shaky breath escaping as his head tips back slightly. “Not even a little,” he mumbles, voice nearly a groan.

Y/N bites her lip, her gaze sweeping slowly over his face, taking in every detail; the furrow of his brow, the way his lips part as he holds his breath to keep in any and all noises. After a beat of silence, she reaches up with her free hand and gently guides his chin toward her.

Chris opens his eyes at the contact, pupils blown, lips parted. That look—dazed and desperate—makes her body grow unbearably hot. Her thighs press tighter together instinctively, just as his own leg twitches beside her.

He lets out a low, unrestrained groan, his first real sound. She leans in and catches his mouth with hers, kissing him with a slow, deliberate intensity that makes it clear: this time, she’s the one leading.

“Fuck—I need you.” The words spill from Chris’s lips like a confession, hot and breathless against her plump lips. His hand cradles her jaw, tugging her even closer, like he can’t stand the inch of space between them.

Her neck burns, warmth blooming all the way down to her core where it flutters. He needs her. Not just anyone—her. Her best friend wants her. He craves her.

“Then have me.” The words fall out between kisses, soft but sure.

Chris freezes, lips hovering just above hers. His chest rises and falls like he’s been sucker-punched. A breathy, helpless moan escapes him before he can stop it—half shock, half pleasure, and all her fault. She’s still stroking him, slow and steady, like it’s nothing. Like she didn’t just blow his fucking mind.

“Wait—are you serious?” His voice is hoarse, wrecked with disbelief. Her. The same girl who said she was afraid. The one he swore he’d never push.

Y/N only nods, her thumb unthinkingly ghosting over the head of his cock. His whole body twitches.

“Shit—Y/N—fuck—” He groans, head tipping back as he sucks in a shaky breath.

Y/N bites back a laugh at his reaction, slowing her pace out of mercy, then whispering a playful, “Sorry,” knowing she's not actually sorry at all.

Chris opens his eyes, searching hers as he tries to read between every word she isn’t saying.

“You’re not just—saying that, right?” he asks, quieter now. “Tell me what you mean. What do you want me to do?”

Y/N sighs softly, like she’s still trying to gather her thoughts. “Chris—”

“YO!” A voice cuts through the air, loud and unbothered. There’s a brief pause, followed by a muffled, “Where the fuck are those two?"

"We got McDonald’s!! Nick was being picky!!”

Matt.

Chris groans, head lolling back against the wall as he lets out a series of dramatic, whiny noises. “OKAY! Just finishing up a game!” he yells back, his voice cracking slightly with frustration.

Y/N’s hand slips away from him, resting in her lap as she laughs under her breath, clearly amused by his misery despite the embarrassment heating up her cheeks.

“I didn’t even get to cum,” Chris grumbles like a kid who just had his toy taken away, tossing his hands up in full defeat.

“Put your dick away and let’s go eat, i'm starving.” Y/N says, voice light as she trails her fingertips teasingly along his still-hard length.

Chris gasps, a breathy chuckle slipping out. “Oh—fuck you,” he mutters, shaking his head before tugging his pants back up over his needy cock.

A sly grin plays on Y/N’s lips. “You will,” she calls over her shoulder, turning on her heel and striding out of the room as if nothing out of the ordinary happened.

Chris pauses for a beat, then pulls his hoodie back on, taking a deep, steadying breath as he adjusts himself one last time. He follows her out, giddily grinning, flushed, and completely undone.

a/n: heyyy, crazy how many people wanted this second part😭 ts actually gave me sm trouble like i hated it for a while and still kinda hate it, so i really hope you guys feel different😓 if you wanna be added to my tag list for this series or any in the future for that matter, simply just comment on the post!! (i hope i did the tagging shit right i'm so new to posting on this app) thank you so much, hope you enjoyed!!

dividers: all me!! feel free to use, they're just lines and emoticons after all, nothin fancy😭

taglist!!: @sophand4n4 @annsx03 @sinarainbows @jjmaybankswifes-blog @hannahsturniolo

©.urvampygf

[gay-dorito-dust]

Hello! Just wanted to say I absolutely love your writing! A bit of a request for the batboys (Jason, Tim, Dick, and Damian), just something silly.

I recently saw a video of a girl saying her boyfriend's entire name as if he was in trouble only for her to tell him she loved him. It was funny to me at the time, it was also late at night lol.

Soo... How would the boys react to reader suddenly saying their full name out of the blue as if they were in trouble as a prank? 👀👀🤭

Dick is thinking to death about what he might done to earn you saying his full name, so much so the poor man was sweating bullets which each step he took in your direction

Did he miss an anniversary?

Date night?

Hayley’s vet appointment?

He wanted to know badly so that he could think up a way to make it up to you however you wanted. Steal his clothes because they smell like him, he didn’t care, he just didn’t like you using his full name.

So as he looked you deep in the eyes, mentally preparing for whatever left your mouth, only for you to relax your face and kiss his cheek much to his surprise.

‘I love you.’ You told him sweetly as you smiled at him.

‘What?’ Dick said.

‘I love you.’ You repeated, still smiling.

‘That’s…that’s all you’ve called my full, legal government name for, to tell me you love me?’ Dick asked as though he was waiting for a joke that was never going to come.

‘Yep.’ You said.

‘No catch.’

‘None.’

‘Can you stop calling me Richard now and go back to calling me baby, cutie, dickie bird or -preferable- handsome now?’ Dick again asks as he felt a weight lift off of his shoulders and was finally able to breathe again now that his questions could finally be laid to sleep.

You chuckled as you kissed his lip. ‘Sure, whatever you say, handsome.’

Damian is unfazed.

He’s use to his full name being used and he doesn’t exactly feel anything but annoyance that he has to leave the piece he has spent the better half of a week working on, just to answer your call.

Damian loved you without a doubt but he’s not exactly fond of whenever you try to follow along these tasteless ‘trends.’ Though he knows himself well enough to know that he would never stay upset or mad at you for long, you were his weak spot, his treasure forever and always even if this is the things they kept you entertained.

‘I know you’re not saying my full name for any particular reason my treasure.’ He told you rather plainly.

‘And how would you know there isn’t a reason I called for you?’ You replied, crossing your arms over your chest. Damian copied.

‘Because I have a good memory and I haven’t missed any important date, that’s not until next week, that and the fact that I can see the muscles in your face struggling to keep the smile at bay.’ Damian said as he pointed out your biggest sign that you were lying about something.

You always involuntarily smiled when telling a lie the title made it far easier for Damian to know that what you were saying was far from the truth. It was your Achilles heel and Damian knew how to use it to his advantage.

‘I’m not.’ You said, struggling to stop the smile.

‘You are and you’re doing a bad job at it my sweet.’ He replied as he was now the one cockily smiling, knowing he’s got you where he wants you that you couldn’t do anything but crack under his stare.

‘Fine you loser, I only called you in here to say I love you, there happy?’ You asked as you pouted.

Damian walked over to you and pressed a kiss to your forehead. ‘All you had to do is say my treasure.’ Was all he said as he spent the rest of the day with you and Titus.

Jason is immediately in front of you within a heartbeat.

He, much like dick, didn’t like it when you use his full name.

You’re his partner! USE THE CUTE NICKNAMES YOU CHOSE FOR HIM INSTEAD! Who’s this Jason Todd? He only responds to Jaybird, jay jay, or baby with the occasional sweetheart from time to time.

‘Chipmunk, can you please tell me want I did wrong?’ Jason asked as he walked into the kitchen where you called him from.

You furrowed your brows. ‘Wrong? I only called you in here to tell you I love you.’ You replied as Jason started at you for a bit before he pinched your side, making you squeal.

‘You’re a little shit, you know that sweetheart.’ Jason asked as he kept pinching your sides, making you giggle and squeal in his hold. ‘Had me all worked up and everything.’ He adds as he starts biting your neck playfully.

‘I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Have mercy!’ You cried, trying to push yourself away from Jason but it was proven nearly impossible when your man was a literal wall of muscle.

‘’All I can hear as the squeaks of a cheeky little mouse.’ Is all Jason said as he continued to tickle, pinch at your sides. He hates it when you call him his full name, it reminded him of lesser then ideal times, sure it sounded far sweeter and loved when it was coming from you rather than theirs, but he’d much rather you call him anything it his full name.

Tim knows what you’re up to the very moment you use his full name.

His detective brain kicks into hyperdrive and goes into the logical explanation as to why the sudden change.

You’ve never used it before, so why now did you use it unless you had seen a cute trend or something that you thought was hilarious on TikTok, or on another social media platform and wanted to try it out for the sake of following whatever was the thing to do.

That or you were genuinely mad and he should at least go talk to you in hopes of de escalating the situation, should it come to it.

‘I love you.’ You said.

‘You’ve said my full name, lured me out of my room, just to say I love you?’ Tim asked with a raised brow as though his heart wasn’t going nuts once again with how much your words easily affected him.

You paused for a brief moment before smiling. ‘Yeah sounds about right.’

Tim sighs but he couldn’t help but feel a smile creep up on his lips. ‘You’re ridiculous sometimes I swear.’ He says under his breath, ‘you almost had me second guessing myself there but I’m glad this is what you called me out for instead.’ He finished as he pressed his forehead against your own, feeling relaxed and clear minded once more.

‘You may say I’m ridiculous but you love it when I keep you on your toes, it’s like a brain exercise in a way.’ You cheekily told him as you kissed his cheek.

‘You call that a brain exercise?’ Tim said. ‘That was barely a brain activity but more like a brain fart if anything.’ He said as you pouted and smacked his bicep, causing him to smile.

‘We can’t all be smart asses like you drake.’ You said and Tim shrugged as he tugged you close.

‘True but you certainly are a pain in the ass.’ Tim replied, which only made you slap his bicep again as he chuckled and you bury your head into his neck.