#same with figuring out the hands in front of their faces

[slutzforbueckers]

SHES SAFE WITH ME

♡— pairing: paige bueckers x fem!reader

♡— warnings: smut

♡— synopsis: it’s your first time being alone with paige and you decided that sometimes it’s safer to just stay in your room.

♡— word count: 4.2k

♡— a/n: heyyy...miss me??? anyways this chapter was actually a piece of shit, i admit it. i'll put more effort into the next one....

you woke up later than usual, but at least you weren’t groggy like you usually were when you woke up. the fan was still blowing cool air on your bare skin, it seemed colder now than it did before you went to sleep. this time when you got up, you actually heard movement and voices that let you know everyone else was awake as well—you mentally said a quick thank you prayer as you got dressed. after you were dressed you left your room and you were going to go to the bathroom but then you smelt bacon in the air. of course, you gravitated towards the smell of bacon. 

the stairs creaked under your weight as you went down them—they were old steps anyways, they’d creak under 2lbs. when you rounded the corner and stepped inside the kitchen, both krystal and paige looked up from what they were doing. the only difference was that once krystal acknowledged you were there she looked back down at the newspaper she was holding in her hands. 

your eyes met paige’s and you tried to forget the fact you spent the previous night with your hands between your legs and her name on the tip of your tongue. you looked away immediately and moved to the counter where the food was laid out, but you could still feel her eyes on you even when you turned around—the little hairs on your body standing up was the tale tell. distract yourself. that was the only way you’d get through standing there without accidentally spilling all your secrets. 

after you picked up a piece of bacon you turned to face your mom, looking over her shoulder at the paper in her hands. “jeez, ma. you really are getting old.” 

krystal swatted you away with the newspaper, letting out a noise to show that she was offended you’d say such a thing. you just laughed and turned around to actually fix yourself a plate. you can tell paige was the one that cooked, the bacon was actually bacon and not burnt remains of bacon. after you finished making your plate you grabbed a bottle of orange juice out of the fridge and took a seat across from paige at the table. 

“morning, paige.” her name felt heavy on your tongue now, there was a memory attached to it. it’s even worse that now every time you looked at her you’d remember making yourself cum from the thought of her. 

“mornin’” she mumbled. you stared at her for a moment because she had this look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite place—it was like she knew something you didn’t. maybe she knows. you thought. but then you thought that there was no way she knew what you did, you weren’t even that loud and it was late, there was no way anyone was still awake. maybe she had a bad night. you thought, trying to push the thought of her knowing what you did out of your head. 

eventually you looked away and started to eat your food quietly, and paige went back to scrolling on her phone, you stole glances at her every now and again. she had that same look on her face like she was thinking real hard about something but there were a couple of times you looked up and her cheeks were a tinge of pink—you figured it was just something on her phone making her blush. krystal groaned from behind you and walked to stand at the head of the table, between you and paige. 

“it’s about time for me to go to work. you two are on your own until 8:30ish, will you be okay?” 

you and paige both nodded, paige’s eyes flickering over to you for a second. “mhm, she’s safe with me.” 

you’re eyes shifted between your plate in front of you, krystal, paige, and then back to krystal. you didn’t know what to say to that, or if you should say anything at all. you kept your mouth closed and went back to picking at your food—you decided you’d rather sit with the wild thoughts running through your mind in silence. of course, all of those thoughts contained paige in them—not even contained, they were literally about her. 

krystal gave you both a tight lipped smile and tapped the table a few times before pushing off it and making her way out of the kitchen. the shift in the atmosphere was way too hard to ignore, you could feel a universe of words better left unsaid hanging over your head. still, you kept your eyes trained on the plate in front of you. 

it was silent between you and both of you were listening for the door to shut because you knew as soon as you didn’t have to worry about krystal the dam would break and paige would start speaking. you could hear her shuffling around in the living room, presumably picking up all her scattered things—her phone, her shoes, her jacket. after a few minutes she came rushing into the kitchen again, she gave you and paige a quick kiss on the cheek before speed walking out. 

you and paige both looked up at each other as soon as you heard the front door shut—it was instant, like you both were waiting on that very moment. paige definitely was, as soon as the sound registered in her mind that smirk broke through on her face. she set her phone face down and turned all of her attention to you. “so, did you sleep well last night?” 

“yeah,” you said slowly—suspiciously. you dropped your fork on the plate and stood from the table, but you kept your eyes trained on paige and she kept hers trained on you. she watched the entire time you emptied the rest of the food on the plate into the trash, her eyes were still on yours even when you stopped in front of the sink to wash your dishes. “why’d you ask?” 

you kept your eyes focused in front of you but you could hear her moving, and then she was right behind you. you could almost feel her body heat with how close she was standing but you didn’t turn around, not yet. 

“i heard you—last night, i mean.” she rasped. your breath caught in your throat and your eyes closed in that way they did when you got caught. what to do? what to do? what to do? you thought. there were plenty of things you could say in this moment—plenty of things you could do—and your brain was still buffering. 

“what?” you croaked, voice sounding strained as if you were being forced to speak. you didn’t want to turn around but your body was moving before you even really had a say. your eyes were wide with shock, heart damn near beating out of your chest with embarrassment and curiosity about what would happen next. 

“you heard me.” paige took a step closer but kept her hands by her sides. she was close enough you could feel the heat radiating off of her body, smell the faint scent of cologne under the warm vanilla. your body was burning with a range of emotions, you didn’t know where to look or where to put your hands. “you were touching yourself and thinking about me.”

“paige…” you said, though it was more of a breath than a word. you turned your head away because looking into her cool eyes was starting to get harder and harder. paige made a small tsk sound as she lifted her hand and placed it under your chin, turning your head to face her again. 

“you sounded so good saying my name like that.” 

you noticed she was way closer now—like, her leg was between yours, bodies almost pressed together, lips barely grazing yours. you knew it was wrong, that you shouldn’t be doing it, but she just smelt so good and her words dripped from her tongue like honey dripping from a honey spoon. you couldn’t help but lean into her a bit and let your eyes flutter shut. you let her invade your senses because for some reason your couldn’t pull away—even though you knew it was so, completely wrong. 

your lips almost touched—you were so close—but then you heard the front door swing open and the both of you jumped away from each other quickly. krystal’s voice carried through the air like a dark cloud, spoiling the moment and making you remember where you were. “i got all the way down the road and realized i forgot my wallet!” 

she was moving so fast she hardly spared either of you a second glance. you were still in the same spot but paige had moved back to the table, her eyes on you the entire time. you could still feel the ghost of her lips on yours, you brought your hand up and placed your fingers over your lips. 

krystal was out of the house again in a second, waving her hand in the air as a goodbye as she rushed out of the kitchen. you were stunned, honestly, your brain was so blank that it couldn’t even send the signal for you to pick up your feet. paige didn’t know if she should stay where she was or if she should say something or even if she should just leave. 

your lips parted to speak but when you tried to say something the words just got caught in the back of your throat. your eyes darted to hers and for a split second but you quickly looked away. you didn’t even say anything as you turned on your heels and practically ran out of the kitchen and to your bedroom, the words were lost on your tongue and you’d rather not try to find them. 

staying in your room all day definitely seemed like a better idea than facing paige after what happened but, unfortunately, you were human and you had needs. food being one of them. after a very long and unproductive conversation with tay about what you should do, you decided to leave your room and go make yourself a quick snack. 

you weren’t sure where in the house paige was—if she was in the kitchen, the living room, the bathroom. you had no idea and you tried not to spend too much time dwelling on it. you had a set goal in mind and you planned to stick to it—go straight to the kitchen, make a snack, leave immediately. 

you shut your room door behind you as quietly as you could and creeped down the stairs, wincing slightly when that one old board creaked loudly. you made your way to the kitchen and opened the fridge, you bent over slightly to get a closer look but you still couldn't decide what you wanted. there was fruit, yogurt, leftovers from the night before—there was plenty of things to choose from but nothing caught your eye. 

after a minute or two you still hadn’t saw anything you wanted so you straightened up again and closed the fridge. when you turned around you swore your soul had left your body—paige was standing behind you leaning on the island with her arms crossed over her chest. “holy fuck, paige! you scared me.”

she let out a soft hum and tilted her head, blue eyes burning holes in your skin from how hard she was staring. “do we talk about earlier?” 

“no.” you said, though it came out sounding more like a question than anything. you started to turn on your feet and leave the kitchen, not even wanting your snack anymore. before you could get out of her reach, paige reached out and grabbed your arm. she jerked you back until you were standing between her slightly spread legs, her hands slipping down to your waist to “steady” you. 

when she noticed that you hadn’t pulled away from her touch something inside of her lit up, she gripped your waist a little tighter and pulled you closer. you were basically holding your breath because of the proximity. you’d never imagined that you’d be in this position anytime soon—let along with your mother’s girlfriend. 

“you telling me you didn’t want to kiss me? that i was reading it all wrong?” her tongue darted out to wet her lips and your eyes instinctively followed the movement. your heart was nearly beating out of your chest again, body trembling and you didn’t even realize it. 

“i didn’t say that.” 

“so you do want to kiss me,” paige smirked. you rolled your eyes to keep yourself from nodding your head—which was probably the hardest thing you’d done in a long time. you weren’t looking at her anymore but you didn’t pull away either—you didn’t know what you were waiting on, maybe for her to kiss you or walk away herself. you weren’t entirely sure. “it’s okay if you do, y’know.” 

“paige, i–” you started to speak, finally deciding that you were going to do what tay told you earlier and take your chance, but paige cut you off before you could get the words out. 

“you don’t have to be shy about it,” she started again. “i mean i—“

you let out a frustrated huff and placed your hands on the sides of her face and crashed your lips into hers. you weren’t sure what made you do it—maybe it was all the built up sexual frustration you had, maybe it was the way she was holding you close, or maybe it was because you didn’t really have a clue what you were doing with life and you were still stuck on that “do it for the plot” mindset. 

paige let out a soft noise of surprise but quickly regained her confidence and kissed you back with a bruising force. one of your hands dropped to her shoulder and the other threaded through her hair. she let her hands slip down to your ass—like she’s been wanting to do since she met you. 

you pulled away after a second—eyes blown, chest rising and falling fast, a pool of heat spreading through your core. paige was flushed and when she blinked open her eyes you could barely see the blue in them anymore. she was breathing heavy and so were you, you were still close enough that you could feel her breath on your lips. your hand left her hair and moved to cup her jaw, your thumb gently running over her bottom lip. 

neither of you said anything for a moment—maybe nothing needed to be said, or maybe you just didn’t have the words. then you realized that you didn’t have to say anything and you’d rather kiss her again than try to find the words to speak. “kiss me again…please.” 

paige didn’t need to be told twice, her fingers pressed into your ass and her lips were on your again in a second. this time it was you who  moaned against her lips and as soon as paige heard that sound it was like a switch flipped inside of her. she ran her hands down your butt and to the back of your thighs, hoisting you up without warning. 

your legs were wrapped tight around her waist as she carried you to the living room. it only took a few stumbles to get there but once she did she gently laid you back onto the couch, sliding between your legs smoothly like a snake. she ground her hips against your core as her lips trailed down your jaw and the side of your neck. “i wanna touch you—so fucking bad. wanna make you moan my name like you did.” 

you couldn’t help but to arch into her, neck craning to the side to feel more of her. your lips were parted with soft whimpers as her teeth grazed over your pulse point, and you were really starting to feel all that sexual build up that came with having a terrible love life. paige was rolling her hips against you now, giving you just the right amount of friction to make you throb. 

“yes—fuck—touch me, please paige.” 

the mix of your words and the breathy whine that came after made her groan, low in the back of her throat. she leaned up and let her eyes rake over your body, her hands were sliding up your thighs—getting close to where you needed her but not close enough. her eyes were low with lust and she was looking at you like you were a piece of meat to devour. 

“tell me what you want.” she breathed, letting her tongue dart out and lick over her lips. your hips shifted closer to her, your breath coming out in ragged shakes. 

“i wanna feel you. please—want your fingers, your mouth, something.” you begged as you gave her the best doe eyes you could muster up without looking like a total fool.

being in this position definitely wasn’t on your to do list for the day but you weren’t necessarily complaining—not when her fingers were hooking in the waistband of your shorts and she was looking at you like you were perfect and you hadn’t had real sex in so long you thought it was the shara desert down there. 

god, this is so wrong but sooo good, you thought. paige was thinking the same thing—okay, not really. she was thinking things more along the lines of how bad she wanted to taste you and if it would be as good as she’d been imagining for the past couple of days. you helped her get your shorts down your legs and your panties came after, once they were off she was right back on you—lips crashing into yours, hands sprawled over your thighs to keep them apart. 

she let her hand slide up your thighs and to your pussy, her long fingers brushing your clit just enough to make your hips twitch. when her fingers meet your slick folds she let out a soft groan at how wet you were. she broke away from your lips to look down at the mess between your legs. “shit, baby—you’re so wet. this all for me?” 

you nodded your head immediately, body flushing with embarrassment because you were embarrassingly wet for someone who had battery been touched. instinctively your thighs threatened to close, to hide away from her hard gaze, but she was pulling you up before you could. 

paige steadied you on her lap and started to pull your shirt over your head,lucky for her it was one of those days you decided to go braless. the way her eyes lit up when she saw your tits made you laugh. “never seen boobs before, paige?” 

“shut up,” she rolled her eyes. her hands found your waist and she pulled you closer, head dipping to press her lips softly against your chest. “you’re so perfect.” 

you wrapped your arms around her head and let your fingers card through her blonde hair, bottom lip tucked between your teeth. her hand was moving again, sliding down between your legs and actually pressing against your clit. paige wrapped her lips around your hardened nipple as her fingers started to move in tight circles on your clit. you let out a breathy whine and let your hips roll forward on their own. 

the arm she wasn’t using was secured around your waist, keeping you situated in her lap as her fingers moved down and slipped through your folds. she coated her fingers with your slick before pressing them against your entrance. her eyes found your face to watch as she slowly slid them inside, making sure you felt every inch. 

“oh my fuck—“ you choked out, hips jerking into her hand. her fingers were much longer than yours, you noticed that the first time you met her, and they filled you up way better than yours did. paige dragged her lips across your heated skin and up your neck before sitting back against the cushions. 

“c’mon, pretty girl, ride them.” she smirked, shifting you around so that you and her hand both were resting against her leg, her fingers still nestled perfectly inside your cunt. you let out a shaky breath as you brought yourself to your knees and balanced your hands on her shoulders.

she watched with an intense gaze as you experimentally lifted your hips and dropped them again. your brows came together and your jaw dropped as you did it again, releasing a more pleasure filled moan. paige didn’t move much but after a while she started to curl her fingers and subtly shift them deeper. 

you were holding her much tighter now and your head was lowered directly next to her ear, sending all those breathy little moans and whimpers through her ears and straight to her core. your slick was leaking down her fingers now, coating them in a milky white with every twitch of your walls. paige was moaning too, not as loud but you could still hear the occasional noise coming from her lips. 

just as your hips rolled forward paige curled her fingers deeper—the two movements combined caused your hips to jerk wildly and a loud moan to fly out of your mouth. paige took note of your reaction and let her free hand drop to your ass. her fingers pressed into your skin as she guided your hips down in slow, controlled motions, all while curling her finger against that spot that had your thighs quivering. 

“that feel good, baby? hm, right there?” she breathed out, her voice low and smooth—despite the way her body was screaming for release just from fingering you. she hadn’t even tasted you yet and she was already addicted to you, just from the way you were wrapped around her fingers like that’s where they belong. 

“mmhm, yeah—“ you gasped through a broken moan. your head dropped to the crook of her neck and your nails were digging into her skin now from how tight you were holding her. “fuck, paige. i’m so close, m'right there.” 

she made a noise low in her throat at the sound of your moaning her name like that, her own hips jutting up slightly. you started to drag your lips up the base of her throat, walls pulsing around her fingers as your orgasm got closer. paige’s head tipped back as she let herself fall into the feeling of your lips in her skin. “say it again. let me hear moan my name while you cum.” 

you did as she said—you moaned her name over and over, fucked yourself on her fingers faster and harder until you were a moaning mess on her lap. paige cracked her hand down on your ass hard with a soft growl. your orgasm wrecked through your body and left you gasping and trembling, mind absolutely blank with the exception of how good your felt. 

after a while you stopped moving and slumped down against her chest. paige didn’t move nor did she say anything, she stayed there running her hand up and down your back as you came down. 

as you laid in her arms and your mind started to clear you started to realize what you’d done. i just let my moms girlfriend finger me, oh my god. you thought. the pleasure was great, sure, but that was just an in the moment thing, you still had to deal with the guilt that you were sure would come whenever you saw your mom again. 

i’m so fucked up, you thought. 

you cleared your throat and gently pushed yourself up from her chest, not looking her in the eyes as you lifted yourself from her lap. paige watched you with confused eyes about the sudden change in your demeanor but she didn’t say anything as you picked up pieces of your clothing. she thought that maybe she should’ve felt some type of guilt about it but the entire time she watched you the only think she could feel was panic that she’d messed everything up between you. 

“y/n,” she called your name as she leaned forward. you kept your back turned as you pulled your shorts up your legs and after you didn’t respond she call you again. “y/n, you don’t have to leave. we can ta—“ 

“i can’t, paige. i—uh—i have to go.” you rushed out, pulling your shirt over your head quickly. you couldn’t even bear to look at her, that post-sex guilt was really going to eat you alive. paige stood from the couch as you started to walk away and just before you got out of reach she grabbed your wrist and gently tugged you back. 

“can we please just talk about it? at least?” she pleaded. your eyes roamed over her face for a good minute, a battle of thoughts happening in your brain—you didn’t know if you should stay and talk about it like adults or if you should run away and try to avoid it for as long as you could. both of the options were very tempting to you, more so the running away one. 

but at the end of the day you knew no amount of talking would stop the guilt and shame you would feel if krystal ever found out. so, you’d do what you did best: ignore the problem and pretend it doesn’t exist. 

“i really have to go.”

[pellucid-constellations]

az with a mate who cannot say no to the little stray animals with big sad eyes around velaris

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Word count: 400

Warnings: tiny injury

a/n: this was cute and fun <3 Thank you for the request!! I'm having a little drabble spree on my blog!!

____________________________________________

"What in the Cauldron is that sound?" Mor exclaimed, jutting up from her chair to look beyond the threshold of the small cottage. Feyre looked on with much of the same worry, but the owner of the cottage only continued to turn the pages of his book.

"Azriel?" Feyre prompted, her urgency the only thing that tore him from his story.

The Shadowsinger turned his head up and took a fleeting glance over his shoulder before bookmarking his page. The corner of his mouth twitched as a shadow curled around his ear before fleeing beyond the front door.

"It's nothing to be concerned about," he offered.

"Nothing to be concerned—Azriel, it sounds like something is dying in your entryway," Mor stressed.

"Sounds like, maybe. But I can assure you, the opposite is happening."

Mor muttered obscenities at his response as you made your entrance into your home with your arms full. The room went silent in favor of the screeches emanating from the creature in your hold, and Azriel kicked up from his seat when it began to squirm.

"Oh, hello. I didn't know we had guests," you huffed out, your disheveled state a testament to a struggle that must have taken place.

"Hello?"

"What is that thing?"

"Who have you brought home today, my love?"

The three greetings were simultaneous, and so you answered the one directly in front of you. Azriel was eyeing the scratches on your arms and the animal wriggling from your grip with a slightly jaded concern, but he made no attempts to take it from you. He only held his hands out and hovered.

You blew your hair from your face. "I'm—well, I'm not sure exactly. I think it's a cat, but then I also think it's not a cat. He's cute, though! And he looked sad. It was raining earlier and I think—"

"Alright, alright," Azriel hushed, running his palm over your hair. "How about we get him into one of the crates and clean you up, and then we can figure out what he is, yes?"

"One of the crates?" Feyre murmured from across the room.

Azriel didn't look away from your deliberation, his gaze adoring as he watched you consider the options.

"Maybe we could give him a bath?" you asked.

"After we clean you up," he repeated.

"Promise?"

"Of course I promise."

[mistyrani]

Velvety: Do I Look Like a Mommy To You?

Velvety Series: Joy x Male Reader

counts: 7.5k+

You're just back from school, backpack slung over one shoulder as you walk down the street, the sun still high.

You spot an ice cream van parked near the park, its jingle pulling you in like a magnet. You're in no rush, so you join the line, hands in your pockets, thinking about a cone to cool off.

In front of you is a woman, probably in her late thirties or early forties, but damn, she doesn't look it. Her figure catches your eye immediately, curvy, with a round, full ass that fills out her tight jeans perfectly.

She's standing casually, one hip cocked, her body swaying just a little as she waits. You try not to stare, but it's hard. Those jeans hug her like they were made for her, and every small shift she makes sends a ripple through her curves.

You're chilling in line, trying to focus on the menu board, but then she starts moving her hips more deliberately.

It's subtle at first, like she's just shifting her weight, but then it's unmistakable, she's swaying her ass side to side, slow and teasing, like she knows you're watching.

Your face heats up, and you glance around, hoping no one else notices. The line's moving slow, and she's still at it, her hips rolling in a way that's got your heart beating faster.

You clear your throat, trying to play it cool, but it's too much. "Ahjumma, don't sway like that," you say, your voice low, half-joking, half-embarrassed.

She turns her head, looking at you over her shoulder with a playful smirk. Her face is pretty, with smooth skin and dark eyes that sparkle with mischief.

"Ahjumma?" she says, raising an eyebrow, her voice light but teasing. "What, do I look like a mommy to you?"

Your cheeks burn, and you stammer, "N-no, I just meant..." You trail off, not sure how to dig yourself out of this one.

She laughs softly, turning fully to face you now, her curves still impossible to ignore. "Just kidding," she says, her smile warm but flirty. "You want chocolate or vanilla?"

You blink, caught off guard, and mutter, "Uh, chocolate," still trying to process her vibe.

She nods, like she's approving your choice, then turns back to the van to order, her hips giving one last playful wiggle before she steps up to the window.

She hands you the chocolate ice cream, her fingers brushing yours just a bit longer than necessary. "There you go," she says with that same playful smirk, her eyes locking onto yours. "What grade you in?"

You take the cone, licking it once to catch a drip, and answer without thinking too much. "I'm in 2nd year of mid-high school, ahjumma," you say, still a bit flustered from earlier.

She laughs, a low, teasing sound, and leans closer, her perfume, something sweet and floral, hitting you. "Don't call me ahjumma," she says, "I'm not married yet."

Your eyes widen, and you nearly choke on your ice cream. "Really?" you blurt out. Your face goes red as you mumble, "I mean, you look very... mommy." The word slips out before you can stop it, and you cringe, feeling like an idiot.

Her eyebrows shoot up, and her smirk turns into a full grin, "Mommy, huh?" she says, stepping closer, her curves practically screaming for attention in those tight jeans. "You got a wild fantasy, don't you?"

You're frozen, ice cream melting onto your hand, your brain short-circuiting. Before you can stammer out an apology, she tilts her head and says, "Wanna come to my apartment?"

"Eh?"

You're standing in her apartment, not entirely sure why you said yes and followed her here.

The place is small but cozy, with soft lighting and a faint scent of vanilla in the air.

Your ice cream is long gone, as you try to process what's happening.

"My name's Joy," she says, closing the door behind you with a soft click, she's leading you further inside, her hips swaying in those tight jeans like she knows exactly what she's doing to you.

She drops her purse on a small table by the couch, then kicks off her heels with a casual flick, her bare feet padding across the floor.

She walks over to the edge of her bed and sits down, leaning back on her hands, her body angled in a way that's straight up seductive.

"But you can call me Mommy if you want."

Her blouse stretches tight across her chest, the top button undone just enough to show a hint of cleavage, and her eyes lock onto yours, daring you to move closer.

You're rooted to the spot, your backpack still slung over one shoulder, feeling like a deer caught in headlights.

"Uh, J-Joy," you stammer, your voice barely above a whisper, "I... I don't know what I'm doing here."

She laughs softly, her head tilting as she studies you, her lips curling into a knowing smile. "Relax," she says, patting the bed beside her.

"You're here because you're curious, aren't you? Sit down, I don't bite... unless you ask nicely."

Her tone is playful, makes your face burn and your pulse race.

You hesitate, your mind screaming to leave, but your feet move before you can stop them, and you find yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, a safe distance from her.

She leans closer, you can't help but notice the way her jeans hug her thighs, the way her body seems to pull you in without even trying.

"So," she says, her voice low, "what's it gonna be, school boy? You wanna stay and have some fun, or are you gonna run back to your boring afternoon?"

She shifts closer on the bed, her body so near you can feel the warmth of her. Her voice drops to a sultry whisper as she leans in, her lips brushing just shy of your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I like playing with school boys," she murmurs, her breath hot against your skin. "They're fresh... and curious."

Your throat goes dry, and you grip the edge of the bed, knuckles turning white. Her words sink into you, stirring something deep, a mix of nerves and a rush you can't ignore. Your face is burning, and you're pretty sure she can hear your heart hammering.

She pulls back slightly, just enough to look you in the eyes, her gaze playful but intense, like she's testing how far you'll go. "What's wrong...?" she teases, her lips curling into a smirk. "You look nervous. Never been this close to a woman before?" Her hand grazes your knee, light but deliberate,

Your whole body tenses, a jolt running straight to your core. You try to laugh it off, but it comes out shaky. "I-I'm just... uh, never been in this... situation," you manage, your voice cracking slightly. You're still clutching your backpack strap like it's a lifeline.

She's chuckles, low and soft, leaning back on her hands again, giving you a full view of her curves as she stretches out casually. "You're cute when you're flustered," she says, "Tell you what... stay a little longer, and maybe I'll show you how much fun a school boy can have with someone like me."

She tilts her head, her hair falling over one shoulder, and waits for your move, the air between you thick with tension.

Your cock growing painfully hard, straining against your jeans, and there's no hiding it anymore.

Joy's smirk grows as she notices your reaction, her eyes flicking down to the obvious bulge in your pants. "Look at you," she murmurs, her voice low and sultry, dripping with intent. "All worked up already."

Her hand, still on your thigh, move sliding higher until her palm presses firmly against your cock through the pants. The pressure makes you gasp, your hips twitching involuntarily, and she chuckles, her fingers curling to give you a slow, deliberate squeeze. "J-Joy," you stammer, your voice cracking, barely able to string words together.

Her touch is bold, it's driving you wild. You grip the bed harder, knuckles white, trying to keep some shred of control, but it's slipping fast.

"Shh," she whispers, leaning in so close her lips brush your jaw, her breath hot against your skin. "You're so cute when you’re nervous."

Her hand starts moving now, rubbing you through your jeans in slow, teasing strokes, each one sending a jolt of pleasure that makes your head spin. "But I bet you're not that innocent, are you? Bet you've been thinking about this since you saw me at the ice cream van."

You can't even respond, your brain short-circuiting as her fingers work you over, the friction of your jeans only making it more intense.

Your cock throbs under her touch, pre-cum already soaking through your boxers, and you're pretty sure she can feel it. "I... I've never..." you manage to choke out, but the words die as she squeezes you again, harder this time, her thumb circling the tip through the pants.

"Never?" she teases, pulling back to look at you, her eyes glinting with mischief. She shifts closer, her thigh pressing against yours, her blouse straining against her full boobs as she leans forward. "Then let Mommy teach you a thing or two."

Her free hand slides up your chest, fingers trailing over your shirt until they reach your neck, pulling you closer until her lips are inches from yours.

You can feel her breath, warm and sweet, and it's all you can do not to lose it right there.

Her other hand doesn't stop, stroking you faster now, her grip firm and confident. "You like this, don't you?" she whispers, her lips brushing yours, not quite kissing but close enough to make you ache for it. "Tell me... you want me to keep going? Want me to show you what happens when you say yes to a woman like me?"

Her fingers pop the button of your jeans, tugging the zipper down slowly, her eyes never leaving yours.

The sound is loud in the quiet room, and your breath hitches as her hand slips inside, brushing over your cock through your boxers. Your pants do nothing to dull the sensation, and you groan, your head falling back as she strokes you, her touch bolder, more demanding.

"Well?" she purrs, her lips grazing your ear again, her fingers wrapping around your length through the cloth, giving you a slow, torturous pump. "You gonna stay and let me play with you, or are you gonna run away?"

Her voice is a challenge, daring you to give in, and with her hand working you like that, you’re not sure you could leave even if you wanted to. Your whole body is screaming for more, and she knows it, her smile wicked as she waits for your answer, her fingers never stopping their slow, relentless tease.

"You're so hard for me" she whispers, her voice a low, sultry purr that sends another jolt through you. Her hand slides under the waistband of your boxers now, her warm fingers wrapping around your bare cock, and you let out a choked groan, your hips bucking up into her grip.

Her touch is firm, and she starts pumping you slowly, her thumb swiping over the sensitive tip, spreading the slickness there. "Such a good school boy, letting me play with you like this."

"J-Joy," you gasp, your voice a wreck, barely able to think through the pleasure. Your hands are clutching the bed so hard your knuckles ache, and you're fighting every instinct to grab her, to do something, anything, but you're too overwhelmed, too caught in her spell.

She leans in closer, her lips brushing the corner of your mouth, her boobs pressing against your arm as she shifts. "You like calling me Mommy, don't you?" she teases, her hand speeding up just a little, each stroke making your cock throb harder in her grip. "Go on, say it. Tell Mommy what you want."

Your face burns with a mix of shame and want, but her hand feels too good, and the way she's looking at you, all confidence and control, breaks down any resistance. "M-Mommy," you stammer, the word slipping out before you can stop it, and her eyes light up, a wicked grin spreading across her face.

"Good boy," she purrs, rewarding you with a tighter squeeze, her fingers working you faster now, slick with your pre-cum.

She pulls your boxers down further, freeing your cock completely, and the cool air hits you for a split second before her hand is back, stroking you skin-to-skin, the sensation so intense you nearly lose it right there.

"Look at this," she murmurs, glancing down at your swollen length in her hand. "So big and ready for me. Bet you've been dreaming about something like this, haven't you?"

You can't even answer, your head falling back as she pumps you, her grip tight and perfect, her thumb circling the head every few strokes, making your whole body shake.

She shifts on the bed, swinging one leg over to straddle your thigh, her jeans rubbing against you as she settles in closer. You can feel the heat of her through the denim, and the sight of her, blouse half-unbuttoned, boobs spilling out, hips grinding slightly against you, pushes you dangerously close to the edge.

"Wanna know a secret?" she whispers, her lips grazing your ear again, her hand never slowing. "I saw you staring at my ass back at the ice cream van, and I knew I had to have you." Her words hit you like a punch, and you groan, your cock twitching in her hand.

"Now tell me, boy..." she says with seduction, "you want me to keep going? Want Mommy to make you come, or maybe..."

She leans back, her eyes locked on yours as her free hand starts unbuttoning her blouse, revealing more of her lacy bra. "Maybe you want to touch me too?"

Her hand slows just enough to keep you teetering on the edge, and you're panting now, your mind a mess of want and disbelief, all you can think is how badly you want to give in, to let her take you wherever she wants. "Joy... Mommy," you groan, barely recognizing your own voice, "please... don't stop."

Joy smirk leans in closer again, her lips brushing your neck, soft at first, then she bites down gently, her teeth grazing your skin. The sharp sting sends a shock through you, making your cock twitch hard in her hand.

"Mmm, you like that?" she murmurs against your neck, her voice a low, seductive growl. She kisses the spot she just bit, her lips warm and wet, sucking lightly before biting again, harder this time. Your hips buck up into her hand, groan escaping your lips as the pleasure builds to a breaking point.

"Such a sensitive boy," she teases, her tongue flicking out to soothe the bite marks she’s leaving on your neck. Her hand never stops, pumping your cock faster now, her grip tight, and slick.

Each stroke makes your head spin, the pressure in your core coiling tighter and tighter. Her thumb swipes over the head of your cock, smearing the pre-cum, and you shudder, your whole body reacting to every move she makes.

She's straddling your thigh still, her hips grinding slightly against you, and you can feel the heat of her through her jeans, the way she's kissing and biting your neck, is almost too much.

"Mommy's gonna make you feel so good," she whispers, her lips brushing your ear before she nips your earlobe, her teeth sending another jolt straight to your cock.

"Joy... Mommy" you barely able to form words as she keeps stroking you, her hand moving faster, her fingers curling just right around your throbbing length.

Her bites get rougher, her kisses sloppier, leaving wet marks across your neck as she sucks and licks, marking you like she's claiming you.

"You're so close, aren't you?" she feels you trembling under her. "Go on, baby boy, let go for me. Let Mommy see how much you want this."

Her hand speeds up, relentless, her palm slick and warm, and the way she's grinding against your thigh, her breath hitching slightly, tells you she's getting off on this too.

You can't hold back anymore, it's all too much. Your cock pulses hard in her hand, and you groan loudly, your hips jerking as you feel the release building fast. "Joy... I'm gonna..." you gasp, but you can't even finish the sentence before she bites your neck one last time, her hand pumping you hard and fast, pushing you over the edge.

"I'm..." your vision blurs, and you come hard, thick ropes of cum spilling over her hand, splattering onto your stomach. You can't help but hold her, your hands resting on her hips, fingers digging slightly into the denim of her jeans.

She keeps stroking you through it, slower now, milking every last drop as you shudder and pant, your body shaking with the intensity, keeping you sensitive and on edge.

"Good boy,"

She pulls back slightly, then leans in, kissing you softly on the lips for the first time, and you're already wondering what the hell you've gotten yourself into, and how much further this is going to go.

Five minutes later, she's back from the kitchen, a glass of iced tea in her hand.

She's buttoned up her blouse a bit, but it does nothing to hide her curves, and the way her hips sway as she walks back to you makes your softening cock twitch, already half-hard again despite the intensity of what just happened.

She sits beside you on the bed, close enough that her thigh presses against yours, and hands you the glass.

"Drink," she says, her voice teasing but with a hint of care.

You take the glass, your hand shaky, and sip the cold tea, the sweetness cutting through the haze in your head. Your cock is still out, glistening from her touch, but Joy doesn't seem to care.

She leans back on one hand, her other resting casually on your knee, her eyes flicking down to your half-hard length with a knowing smirk, "Already ready for more, huh?" she teases, her fingers brushing your thigh, inching close to your cock again. "School boys are so full of energy."

You blush, setting the glass on the bedside table, your voice rough as you try to respond. "I... I don't know how you do this to me," you admit, your eyes darting to her face, then to her body, still unable to process how you ended up here with this gorgeous woman who keeps calling herself Mommy.

She laughs softly, scooting closer until her shoulder brushes yours, her hand sliding up your thigh again, teasing but not quite touching where you're starting to ache again. "Oh, baby," she purrs, her lips close to your ear, "you have no idea what I can do to you."

She leans in, kissing your jaw lightly, her fingers grazing your cock just enough to make it twitch, hardening under her touch. "Wanna find out what happens next, or you still thinking about running back to your boring school life?"

You grab the glass again, try to sip out of this situation, but Joy takes the glass of iced tea from your hand. She sets it on the nightstand, her eyes never leaving yours, that wicked smirk still playing on her lips.

Before you can catch your breath, she moves, crawling over you like a predator, her curves swaying with every motion. You're pushed back onto the bed, lying flat now, your half-hard cock twitching as she looms over you.

Joy presses her body down against yours, pinning you to the mattress, her full boobs squishing against your chest through her blouse. Her thighs straddle your hips, her jeans rubbing against your bare cock, and the friction makes you groan softly.

She leans down, her lips finding your neck again, kissing and sucking with slow, wet presses that leave your skin tingling. Her teeth graze you, then bite down, sharp enough to make you gasp, the sting blending with pleasure as she marks you again.

"You're mine now," she whispers against your skin.

Her lips move from your neck to your jaw, then finally to your mouth, capturing you in a deep, hungry kiss. Her tongue slips past your lips, teasing and exploring, and you kiss her back, hesitant at first but quickly losing yourself in the heat of it. Her hands are everywhere, tugging at your shirt, yanking it up and over your head in one swift motion, leaving you bare-chested beneath her.

She doesn't stop there. Her fingers rake down your chest, nails scraping lightly, leaving faint red trails that make you shiver. She bites your collarbone, then your pecs, her teeth sinking in just enough to sting, each nip sending a jolt straight to your cock, which is fully hard again, pressed against her hips.

"Such a pretty boy," she murmurs, her lips brushing the spot she just bit before moving lower, kissing and biting your stomach, her tongue flicking out to taste your skin.

Your jeans and boxers, already bunched around your thighs, are next. Joy pulls them off with a rough tug, leaving you completely naked under her, your cock standing stiff and slick against your stomach.

She pauses to look at you, her eyes glinting with satisfaction, like she's admiring her work. "Look at you," she purrs, her hand wrapping around your cock again, giving it a slow, teasing stroke that makes your hips buck. "All hard and ready for Mommy."

She leans down, biting the sensitive skin just above your hip, her teeth sharp enough to make you hiss, but the way her tongue soothes the spot right after has you moaning.

Her kisses trail lower, dangerously close to your cock, but she pulls back, climbing back up to straddle you fully, her hands pinning your wrists above your head.

Her blouse is half-open, her boobs spilling out, and she grinds her hips against you, the rough denim teasing your bare cock, making you groan louder.

"Tell me," she whispers, her lips brushing yours again, her voice a seductive challenge. "You want Mommy to keep playing with you? Want me to make you come again, or..." Her hips roll harder.

"Maybe you want to try pleasing me this time?" Her teeth catch your bottom lip, tugging lightly.

She shifts, crawling up your body with a slow, predatory moves that makes your breath catch. She moves until she's straddling your chest, hovering her thighs spreading wide, caging you in.

Her tight jeans hug her curves, the fabric stretched over her thick thighs and the swell of her ass, her eyes glint with something wild as she looks down at you.

"You ready for Mommy?" she purrs.

Without warning, she reaches down, her fingers hooking into the crotch of her jeans. With a rough tug, she rips the denim apart, the sound of tearing fabric filling the room.

It's fucking sexy, the way the material gives way, exposing her bare pussy right in front of you, to panties, glistening, wet folds that make your mouth water and your cock twitch harder.

Her scent hits you, musky and sweet, and you can see how soaked she is, her arousal dripping down her inner thighs. She offers more to you, her wet folds hovering just inches from your face, teasing you.

"Lick my pussy," she orders, her voice firm but laced with desire. "Show Mommy how bad you want to please her."

You're frozen for a split second, overwhelmed. But the hunger in her eyes and the way she's hovering above you, waiting, snaps you out of it.

You lean up, your hands finding her thighs, gripping the soft flesh as you pull her closer. Your tongue darts out, tentative at first, brushing against her wet folds, and the taste of her, salty, sweet, and intoxicating, floods your senses.

She moans softly, her hips rocking forward, pressing herself against your mouth. "That's it," she breathes, her hands tangling in your hair, guiding you. "Lick me good."

You dive in, your tongue sliding through her slickness, exploring her folds, circling her clit. She's so wet, her juices coating your lips and chin as you lick and suck, trying to keep up with her movements as she grinds against your face. Her moans grow louder, her thighs tightening around your head, and you can feel her getting wetter, her arousal dripping down your jaw.

You flick your tongue faster, finding her clit and sucking gently, making her gasp and tug your hair harder. "Fuck, you're good at this," she groans, her voice husky, her hips rolling harder against your mouth.

Your cock is rock hard, throbbing with need, but all you can focus on is her, her taste, her moans, the way she's using you to chase her own pleasure.

"Keep going, baby," she pants, her hands gripping your head, holding you exactly where she wants you. "Make Mommy come."

Her words switch you on, and you lick harder, sucking her clit, your tongue plunging into her wet heat as she rides your face.

Your hands grip her thighs tighter, fingers digging into her soft flesh as you part her pussy wider, exposing more of her slick, pink folds. She's so wet, her arousal coating your lips and chin, dripping down your neck as you shove your tongue deeper, tasting every inch of her.

You lap at her eagerly, your tongue plunging into her tight heat, then flicking back to her clit, sucking it hard between your lips. She gasps, her hips bucking, and you can feel her trembling, her thighs quivering around your head.

"Fuck, that's it," she moans, "Such a good boy for Mommy."

Her words make your head spin, and you double down, wanting to hear more of her desperate sounds. You slide one hand up, your fingers joining the action, tracing her slick entrance before slipping one inside her.

She's so tight, so wet, her walls clenching around your finger as you push it in, curling it to find that spot that makes her gasp louder. You add another finger, stretching her, pumping them in and out as your tongue keeps working her clit, licking and sucking with relentless focus.

Her moans turn into whimpers, her hips rocking harder against your face, smearing her wetness everywhere. You can feel her getting close, her pussy clenching tighter around your fingers, her clit pulsing under your tongue.

"Don't stop," she pants, her voice shaking, her hands yanking your hair so hard it stings. "Make me come, baby. Make Mommy come all over you."

You obey, shoving your fingers deeper, curling them just right while your tongue flicks her clit faster, your lips closing around it to suck harder. Your other hand grips her ass, pulling her closer, burying your face in her dripping pussy. Her walls start to flutter around your fingers, her moans turning into high-pitched cries, and you know she's right there.

"Fuck, yes! fuck, yes!" she screams, her body tensing, thighs clamping around your head.

"Yes~! FUCKKK~!!!"

Then it hits, she comes hard, her pussy pulsing and contracting around your fingers as she squirts, hot and wet, all over your face. The warm rush soaks your lips, your chin, dripping down your neck, and you keep licking, keep pumping your fingers, drawing out every shudder and moan as she rides her orgasm, grinding against you.

Her juices are everywhere, slick and sweet, and you can't get enough, lapping at her even as she trembles, her body shaking with aftershocks.

Finally, she collapses forward, catching herself on her hands, panting heavily as she looks down at you, her eyes glazed with satisfaction.

Your face is a mess, glistening with her release, and she smirks, reaching down to wipe a thumb across your wet lips. "Look at you," she murmurs, her voice hoarse but still teasing. "Such a good boy, making Mommy come like that."

You're still catching your breath, your face slick with Joy's release, her taste lingering on your lips as she slides off you, collapsing onto the bed beside you.

She leans in, her body pressing against your side, her arms wrapping around you in a warm, possessive hug. Her curves melt against you, her boobs soft against your chest, and you can feel the heat of her skin through her half-open blouse.

Her hand drifts down, finding your cock, still rock hard and throbbing, and she starts stroking you slowly, her fingers slick from earlier, gliding over your length with a teasing rhythm that makes your hips twitch.

"You're good at this," she murmurs, her voice low, her lips brushing your ear as she speaks. "You got some experience?" Her tone is playful, but there's a curiosity there, her fingers tightening slightly around your cock, making you groan softly.

Your face flushes, "No... I'm just..." you swallow hard, embarrassed but too far gone to lie, "I watch a lot of porn," you admit, your voice barely a whisper.

Joy lets out a free, hearty laugh, her head tilting back, her dark hair spilling over her shoulder, "Oh, you're really a naughty boy," she says with amusement.

Her hand keeps moving, stroking you slowly, keeping you hard and aching, "I wouldn't have guessed from looking at you. You look so innocent, all shy and sweet."

She leans closer, her lips grazing your jaw, her voice dropping to a whisper. "But innocent on the outside means wild on the inside, doesn't it?"

Her words hit you hard, and you can't help but groan as her hand speeds up just a bit, her thumb circling the tip of your cock, spreading the pre-cum that's leaking out.

You're a mess under her touch, your body trembling, still reeling from making her come all over your face. "I... I didn't think I'd end up here," you mutter, your voice shaky, your hands instinctively gripping her hips, feeling the curve of her ass through her torn jeans.

"Mm, I bet," she purrs, her lips curling into a wicked smile as she presses herself closer, her boobs squishing against your side. "But here you are, my naughty little boy, getting all worked up from watching porn and now making Mommy come like a fountain."

She bites her lip, her eyes flicking down to your cock in her hand, then back to your face. "Wanna know what else I can do with a wild boy like you?"

She shifts, sitting up straighter, and starts peeling off her blouse, the fabric sliding down her shoulders to reveal her lacy black bra, barely containing her full, heavy boobs. With a quick flick of her fingers, she unhooks it, letting it fall away, her boobs bouncing free, round, perfect, and begging for your hands.

Your mouth goes dry, your cock twitching as she shimmies out of her torn jeans, kicking them off to leave her completely naked above you. Her curves even more mesmerizing without the clothes, her pussy still glistening from her earlier orgasm.

You're lying back on the bed, naked and exposed, your cock standing stiff and throbbing, slick with pre-cum and the remnants of her touch. Joy straddles you fully now, her thighs bracketing your hips, her wet folds hovering just above your cock.

She looks down at you, her hair falling around her face, and smirks. “Ready?” she teases, her voice low and dripping with lust.

She reaches down, wrapping her fingers around your cock, giving it a few slow pumps that make you groan and buck your hips. Then, she lines you up, guiding the head of your cock to her entrance, her slick, warm folds brushing against you. The sensation is beyond anything you've ever imagined, hot, wet, and so tight as she slowly lowers herself, the tip of your cock slipping inside her.

Your breath catches, coming out in heavy, ragged gasps as she sinks down further, taking you inch by inch, her pussy clenching around you

"Fuck," you gasp, your hands flying to her hips, gripping her soft flesh as she bottoms out, your cock buried deep inside her. The feeling is overwhelming, her heat, her tightness, the way her walls pulse around you.

You're having sex, actually having sex, with this gorgeous woman who's calling herself Mommy, and it's so much better than any porn you’ve ever watched.

Joy moans softly, her hands braced on your chest as she starts to move, rolling her hips in slow, deliberate circles that make your head spin. "You feel so good," she purrs, her voice husky, her boobs bouncing slightly with each movement.

"So big and hard for me." She lifts herself up, almost pulling off you, before slamming back down.

You groan loudly, your fingers digging into her hips as she sets a rhythm, riding you that has you teetering on the edge already.

Her pussy grips you tightly, slick and hot, and every thrust sends waves of pleasure through you. You can't help but stare, at her face, flushed with pleasure, her breasts, swaying with each bounce, her pussy, swallowing your cock over and over.

"Look at you," she says, leaning down to kiss you, her lips messy and desperate against yours. "Fucking Mommy like a good boy."

Her words hit you like a spark, and you thrust up into her, meeting her movements, making her moan louder.

She rides you faster, you're panting, your body trembling with how intense it feels, your cock throbbing inside her, her hips grinding harder. "Joy... Mommy," you groan, barely able to form words, your hands sliding up to grip her ass, pulling her down onto you.

She's relentless, her pussy clenching tighter with every thrust, and you can feel yourself getting close, the pressure building in your core.

She senses it too, her eyes gleaming as she leans down, biting your lip before whispering, "Come for me, baby. Fill Mommy up."

Joy's hips slam down harder, her pace quickening as she rides you with wild intensity, her hands braced on your chest for leverage.

You can't get enough of her, your hands leaving her ass to grab her boobs, your fingers sinking into the soft, heavy flesh.

You squeeze them, feeling their weight, your thumbs brushing over her hard nipples, and she moans loudly, her head tilting back as she grinds down on you.

"Fuck, yes," she gasps, her voice raw with pleasure. "Touch me, baby. Just like that."

You thrust up to meet her rhythm, your hips slamming together. It's amazing, beyond anything you:ve ever felt, her pussy clenching around you, her body trembling as she chases her own release.

You pinch her nipples lightly, and she cries out, her hips moving even faster, her walls pulsing around your cock.

You're losing it, the pleasure building to a breaking point as you thrust harder, deeper, matching her frantic pace. "Joy... Mommy," you groan, your voice hoarse, your hands gripping her breasts tighter as you feel the pressure in your core snap. "I'm gonna..." you start, but you can't finish.

Your cock throbs, as pleasure snapped, "Fuck!!" you come hard, your hips jerking as you spill inside her, thick and hot, filling her pussy with every pulse. The feeling is so intense you nearly black out, your vision blurring as you groan her name.

"Fuck, yes, baby!" she screams, at the same time, her body shuddering as she hits her own climax. Her pussy clamps down on you, milking your cock as she squirts again, her release gushing over you, soaking your hips and the bed beneath, her hands pressing harder into your chest, her hips bucking wildly as she rides out her orgasm, her juices mixing with yours in a messy, wet heat.

She keeps moving, slower now, drawing out every last bit of pleasure, her pussy still pulsing around your softening cock.

You're both panting, your bodies slick with sweat and cum, and she collapses forward, her breasts pressing against your chest as she kisses you deeply.

"Good boy," she murmurs against your lips, her voice soft and satisfied, her fingers trailing through your hair. "You filled Mommy up so good."

You're still catching your breath, your hands resting on her hips, feeling the aftershocks of what just happened.

Twenty minutes later, you're still in Joy's apartment.

She's lying beneath you now, legs spread wide, you fuck her in missionary. Her pussy is tight and wet, gripping your cock with every thrust, and the way her full breasts bounce with each slam.

Her hands grip your shoulders, nails digging into your skin as she moans loudly, her voice a mix of pleasure and command. "Harder, baby," she gasps, her head tilting back, her dark hair fanned out on the pillow.

You're pounding into her, the bed creaking under the force. Your cock sliding in and out of her slick heat, her moans driving you wild.

Then, out of nowhere, she snaps her head up, "Can you grab my phone?" she asks, her voice breathy, mixed with a moan as you thrust deep into her.

You blink, caught off guard, but you don't stop moving. "W-what?" you grunt, your hips slowing slightly, your cock still buried inside her.

"My phone," she repeats, smirking through a moan, her pussy clenching around you. "On the nightstand. Grab it, baby." Her tone is teasing, but there's an edge to it, like she's up to something.

You hesitate for a second, then lean over, still inside her, stretching to reach the nightstand where her phone sits next to the half-empty glass of iced tea. Your fingers close around it.

You hand it to her, your hips starting to move again, picking up the pace. She takes the phone her free hand pulling you closer as you thrust harder.

"Good boy," she purrs, unlocking the phone with one hand while her other grips your ass, urging you deeper.

You're pounding her now, her pussy so wet it's practically sucking you in, when she taps the screen and puts the call on speaker.

A woman's voice comes through, sharp and annoyed. "What, Joy? I'm working right now!"

Joy laughs, a mix of amusement and pleasure as you fuck her harder, "Wendy, guess what?" she says, her voice taunting, interrupted by a moan as you hit a particularly deep spot.

"I got another school boy, ahh, fuck~ harder, baby~" she arches her back, her words directed at both you and the woman on the phone, her tone mocking as she rubs it in.

You're too caught up in the moment to process it fully, your hips slamming into her, your cock throbbing inside her tight, slick pussy. The fact that she's on the phone, casually talking while you're fucking her, only makes it hotter, wilder.

"Fuck, Joy," Wendy snaps through the speaker, her voice a mix of exasperation and envy. "You always find a school boy. Share him, you slut!"

Joy laughs again, her pussy clenching around you as she moans, her hand reaching up to pinch one of her own nipples. "Later" she teases, her voice breaking into another moan as you thrust deeper, your hands gripping her thighs to pull her closer. "You lose the bet, Wendy. You owe me tomorrow, ahh~"

"Fuck you, Joy," Wendy shoots back, but there's a laugh in her voice before the call cuts off, leaving just the sound of Joy's moans and the wet, rhythmic slap of your bodies.

Joy tosses the phone onto the bed, her eyes locking onto yours as she wraps her legs around your waist, pulling you in deeper. "You heard her," she purrs, her voice dripping with lust. "I always get what I want. Now make Mommy come again, baby."

She grabs your face, kissing you hard, her tongue claiming your mouth as you pound into her.

You slow your thrusts just enough to catch your breath, your hands gripping her thighs as you pant, "What... what was that about?"

Joy's eyes glint with mischief, smiling as she rocks her hips up to meet you, keeping the rhythm going even as she answers. We're betting," she says, her voice breathy but teasing, punctuated by a soft moan as you hit a deep spot.

"Me and Wendy... we bet on who can fuck a school boy first, win. And she lost, so she owes me money." She laughs, low and sultry, her pussy clenching around your cock, making you groan as she pulls you closer, her lips brushing your ear. "And you, baby, just made me a winner."

The words making your cock twitch inside her as you process the casual way she's talking about it, like you're a prize she's claimed. It's filthy and thrilling, and you can't help but thrust harder, your hips slamming into her, the wet slap of your bodies growing louder.

"Fuck," you mutter, your hands sliding up to grip her hips, pulling her against you as you pound into her. "You're... crazy."

She giggles, her legs trembling around you. "Crazy's fun, isn't it?" she purrs, her hands roaming your chest, nails scraping lightly. "Now be a good boy and make Mommy come again. I wanna celebrate my win."

You lean forward, pressing your chest to hers, her hard nipples grazing your skin as you fuck her harder, deeper. Her pussy is so wet, so tight, gripping you like she never wants to let go, and her moans are getting louder.

"Yes, baby, just like that," she gasps, her head tilting back, her mouth open as she chases her release. You can feel it building in you too, your cock throbbing, the pressure in your core tightening as you slam into her, driven by her moans and the way she's clinging to you.

"Fuck, baby, you're so good," she gasps, her legs wrapped tight around your waist, pulling you deeper. Her pussy pulses around you, slick and hot, and you can feel her getting closer, her walls clenching with every thrust.

You grab her boobs, squeezing the soft, heavy flesh, your thumbs flicking her nipples, and she cries out, her hips bucking up to meet you. Your cock throbbing inside her, and you know you're not gonna last much longer.

"Joy... Mommy," you groan, your voice rough as you feel the edge approaching. You lean down, burying your face in her boobs, your lips brushing the soft skin as you kiss and suck at her curves.

Her boobs are perfect, full and warm against your face, you hug her tightly, your arms wrapping around her as you thrust harder, deeper, chasing your release.

"Come for me, baby," she moans, her voice breaking as her pussy tightens around you, her own orgasm hitting. "Fill Mommy up."

You can't hold back anymore. With a loud groan, "I'm comin'!" you come hard, your cock pulsing as you spill inside her, thick and hot, your hips jerking as you pump her full of your cum. Waves of pleasure crashing through you as you bury yourself deep, your face pressed against her boobs, her body shaking beneath you as she comes too, her pussy milking you for every drop.

"FUCKK~!" Her moans turn into whimpers, her walls fluttering around your cock as she rides out her orgasm, her thighs trembling around your waist. You're still spilling, your cum flooding her, and you hug her tighter, your arms locked around her curves, feeling every shudder of her body against yours.

Finally, you collapse against her, your face still nestled in her boobs, your cock softening inside her but still twitching with aftershocks.

She chuckles softly, her voice hoarse, her fingers running through your hair. "Such a good boy," she murmurs, her tone satisfied and teasing. "You really filled Mommy up, didn't you?"

She shifts slightly, her pussy still gripping you, a mix of your cum and hers dripping between you. You're too spent to respond, but her words keep that fire smoldering, and you know this wild moment is far from over.

You stumble through the front door at 9 PM, your body exhausted but still buzzing from the wild hours spent with Joy.

What started as a quick stop at her apartment after the ice cream van stretched into a marathon. After those intense rounds on her bed, extended into another heated session in her bathroom.

Under the shower, her hands and mouth were all over you, drawing out every last bit of energy until you were spent, barely able to stand.

You left her place at 8:30, her teasing "Come back soon, baby boy," echoing in your head.

Now, you're home, and the clock's ticking against you.

Your mom, Irene, is waiting in the living room, arms crossed, her sharp eyes narrowing as you step inside.

"Where have you been?" she snaps, her voice low but laced with anger.

"You're three hours late." Her petite frame seems to loom larger, her disappointment cutting deeper than any punishment could.

You mumble an excuse, something about staying late at school, but her glare tells you she’s not buying it. "You're grounded," she says, pointing to your room. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

a/n: wendy or irene next?

[bewitched-hours]

Silly Idea

Daisy x Guest 1337 x Eldritch/Cryptid!Reader

Ah yes one of my favourite ship dynamics, the established couple and the thing they found in the wood

How tf they managed is beyond me, maybe you were always there in their life but was just on the sidelines. First it started off with "Romantic gifts" addressed to both of them. And by that I mean a whole magnolia tree which clearly looks like it was torn out with bare hands just perched innocently on their front lawn. Next it was when people who were rather discriminatory to Guest somehow disappeared or left them alone. Double weird. Welp they don't find out till Daisy walks in on you keeping watch over Charlotte( imagine a big fluffy cat and Charlotte is just sleeping on it, my turn when dawg). And to your sadness you scared them both( wow I can't believe a sleep paralysis demon can be scary) But after a few seconds of bracing to be well killed or eaten, nothing happens. Instead you very, very gently lower Charlotte down and give her back( not without a lil pat tho) before leaving. Okay they either are very sleep deprived or that just happened. But after a while of this very confusing relationship with this thing. Guest 1337 finally decides to try and strike a conversation with you( fully expecting nothing) but gains whiplash when you reply back nearly perfectly( if not for the obvious growl and accent of your voice). And well after a bit they just accepted the fact you're sticking around. And well it ends with Guest,Daisy,Charlotte and you having a nice cuddle( turns out all that fluff also works as an amazing bed, and your purrs double down as white noise)

YES YES YES- MEOW- (Ignore me being a dumbass and basically opening myself to being called a degenerate-)

Reader gets They/Them~

It was no secret that you were a cryptid.

You just looked like a mix of a sleep paralysis demon and a cat if most were honest after seeing you.

Black but fully fluffy fur, a tail long and flexible enough to coil around your victims like a giant snake and two red eyes flashing from your face. It'd be a mystery if you had a mouth if it weren't for the sightings of you munching away on some of your victims.

And yet... You did it more for the attention of your chosen mates!

Something about them had simply captured your heart. Maybe it was their gentleness, the feeling of family, who knows...

But you tried to win them over without scaring them. You weren't just some creature, you had the same amount of intelligence they had. Maybe even more.

But the fact you knew better didn't stop you from doing worse.

You weren't choosing victims just because they were mean to your mates, you knew they could handle themselves in the face of 'bullies', as Charlotte once called them. Sweet child, you wanted to protect her like your mates did and yet that option was currently out of reach...

But no, you chose your victims based on how far they were willing to take their hatred for your beloveds.

The ones that were more likely to pop up later again and again, all to discriminate against the ones you loved... Those were your victims.

You figured out eventually that flowers were sometimes considered romantic but with your form... Yeah, picking flowers would be impossible and there wasn't even a guarantee they'd be in top condition all the way through.

Instead, you managed to grab a magnolia tree to leave on their lawn to enjoy. Maybe they liked gardening!

They were so confused when they found the tree. It was clearly ripped out of the ground, it was clearly done by brute force, but it's far too big for anyone to pull off... It managed to unsettle them...

But when you were first spotted by Charlotte?

Oh, she loved you immediately. You figured she would be afraid considering you were much larger than both of her parents and had menacing claws and teeth but all she saw was a giant cat and she was won over.

With that, you'd make regular visits on some nights to watch over her and talk with her in a rough but understandable voice as you'd tell her about life in the woods. You didn't tell her of the creatures that roam or the things you had done for survival but... She deserved to be spared such details...

You had accidentally taken a massive step closer to the family you always wanted but it still seemed so far away... You might be able to live with such slow process but with your lifespan, who knows how long you could continue to wait for progress?

Turns out, you didn't have to worry that long! Though it might've not been such a good thing...

You had been listening to Charlotte babble about the most random topics and entertaining her as she played with your face and stretched it a bit. You felt guilty about even thinking to stop her with how happy she seemed but you failed to pick up on the approaching footsteps before the door opened and you and Charlotte both looked at Daisy in the doorway.

Daisy was absolutely terrified and you were in utter shock as you felt your heart drop.

You couldn't even find your voice again as chaos broke out. Charlotte trying to advocate for you as she sat on your neck fluff and watching as even Guest came rushing in to tell Charlotte to get away from you.

It hurt but... You could understand why they were acting this way.

They didn't even know what to do as they didn't want to approach you so you did the only thing you could think of.

You reached up to gently grab Charlotte and lower her down as carefully as you could before nuzzling her cheek with a slight purr as if to thank her before you quickly but silently disappeared out the window and left the three of them with mixed emotions.

For a while, you stepped back on showing your affections, even outright ignoring Charlotte when she tried to ask you to join her again to play but you weren't subtle in showing that you were sorry about having to ignore her.

This was stupid. You were stupid. It was all so stupid...

You should've never indulged the kid in the first place before getting through her parents but you did anyways and your gifts now ranged between apologetic messages and more romantic gestures.

Charlotte seemed so heartbroken and it was probably why Guest decided to wait for you tonight.

You were just placing down another tree you found that looked pretty so you thought it would be a good apology gift. But you were left little time to explain when the door suddenly opened in front of you and the man stepped out with a seemingly nervous face.

You looked like a deer in headlights as your mind screamed at you to just talk until...

"You've... Been taking care of Charlotte a lot..." He muttered, carefully moving closer to you in an attempt to not alarm you which made your ears flutter with anticipation.

"Of course, she's adorable!" Your growled voice and strange accent almost made him jump in shock but technically he did remember his daughter talking about your voice before...

"Such a sweetheart, you two are great parents." You quickly toned it down a bit and sat up to be at eye level with him as you smiled softly.

Guest rubbed at his temple for a moment while chuckling. "Well, I'll be damned... You're much more intelligent than we gave you credit for..."

Somehow, you weren't even offended at this. "That's because most cryptids keep to the woods." You chuckled along, before feeling your face flush at his next question.

"Then how is it that you kept coming here every night?" Well, be glad your face was covered in fur or he would've seen you grow 50 shades of red. It was now or never...

"I have been meaning to... Court you both as mates..." You muttered with a bashful look as you watched the gears turn in his head. By the time he figured it out he was looking a little embarrassed himself.

"I'll uhm- I'll just get Daisy real quick..." He muttered as he went back inside and you took deep breaths to prepare yourself. It was now or never, now or never, now or-

In the morning, you were all cuddled up by the couch and watching the news in comfortable silence.

You did it... You've found your perfect family and you were allowed an escape from the woods...

Life felt perfect...

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

[bitchinbarzal]

Protect Me From Loving You — J Burrow

part of the sloane burrow au!

⸻

You didn’t mean to hide it from him. You just didn’t want to stress him out.

Joe had enough on his plate. Press week, recovery work, game film, a pile of media requests so high his phone buzzed every other minute. The last thing you wanted was to call him mid-practice and say, Hey, don’t panic but Sloane and I just got into a car accident.

So instead you handled it.

It was a rear-end. Nothing wild. Nothing broken. Just a sudden slam of brakes and a jolt hard enough to make your teeth click together.

Sloane had cried, scared more than hurt. You’d pulled over, climbed into the backseat with her, held her until her little hands stopped shaking. Called the police, called your insurance, did everything by the book.

You felt sore. Rattled. And your arm had taken a weird hit against the seatbelt. But with Sloane You weren’t about to risk anything.

So you drove straight to the ER. Just to be sure.

Sloane was fine. They said so three times. No signs of concussion. No injuries. She got a sticker and a juice box and waved goodbye to the nurse like it was a playdate.

You figured that would be the end of it.

Until your phone rang three hours later. Joe’s name lit up the screen.

You picked up with a smile. “Hey babe”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

His voice was sharp. Breathless. You froze in the hospital parking lot.

“Wait, what?”

“I just got a call from insurance” he said. “About an accident. They said Sloane was with you”

You shut your eyes.

“I was going to tell you”

“When?” he snapped. “After dinner? Tomorrow?”

“I didn’t want you to panic, Joe”

“You took our daughter to the ER and didn’t tell me”

The silence that followed hurt more than his words.

“I’m coming home” he said.

“You don’t have to” you said quietly. “We’re fine. She’s fine. It wasn’t—”

“I’m already in the car”

He was home in fifteen minutes.

You heard the garage door open, then his footsteps pounding through the hallway like he didn’t trust the walls around him. Like he needed to see you both to breathe again.

You were sitting on the couch with Sloane curled into your lap, watching cartoons and munching on Goldfish like nothing had happened. Your arm was in a light sling, more precaution than anything.

When Joe saw you, his face broke. All that anger was gone. Just worry now. Just love.

“Hey” you said softly.

He didn’t answer. Just dropped to his knees in front of the couch and scooped Sloane into his arms, pressing his face to her hair like he could breathe better now.

“Hi Daddy” she mumbled. “I had a big boom in the car”

His eyes squeezed shut.

You reached for his shoulder. “She’s okay. They checked everything. Twice”

His voice cracked when he asked, “Are you hurt?”

“Just sore. My shoulder caught weird. They think it’s just a sprain”

He looked up at you like he didn’t know whether to kiss you or yell again.

“I didn’t want to make it worse” you said gently. “You had so much going on today. And you always say I’m the calm one, so I stayed calm. I handled it”

“You shouldn’t have had to handle it alone”

“I wasn’t alone. I had Sloane. And I had the doctors. And I knew you’d come running as soon as you knew”

He shook his head, eyes glassy now.

“I don’t care if I’m in a game. A meeting. Mars. You call me”

You nodded, throat tight. “Okay”

“I mean it” he whispered. “I can’t not know something happened. That something could’ve happened to you. To her”

Sloane stirred in his arms. “Daddy, you crying?”

Joe pulled back, gave her a watery smile. “Little bit, Bug”

She tilted her head, considering him. “It’s okay. I cried too. But Mama holded me and we got a sticker”

He kissed her temple. “That’s my brave girl”

Then looked at you.

“And that’s my brave girl too”

That night, you all slept in the same bed. Sloane between you. Joe’s hand wrapped tight around yours like he still needed to feel your pulse to know you were really there.

He kissed your forehead in the dark and whispered, “Don’t protect me from loving you”

[suzukiblu]

WIP excerpt for Marina behind the cut; “obligatory sugar baby Kon”. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Also, though, Kon likes the shirt he bought him as-is. 

Tim spares a moment to be a completely normal emotional support sidekick about that fact, fails to be even slightly normal about literally anything ever but especially anything about Kon liking the shirt he bought him, and then Kon snorts and rolls his eyes, and . . . well, Tim isn’t sure if that was technically a laugh or not, but . . . 

It’s not like Kon hasn’t snorted in front of Tim Drake plenty of times, obviously, but Tim is unfortunately embarrassed to realize he misses the giggling. 

Really just zero dignity left at this point, okay, he notes resignedly, and makes a mental note to continue avoiding telepaths. Well–another tick in the box for continuing to avoid telepaths, more like, but same difference. 

In his defense, Tim Drake gets consistently giggled and outright beamed at and Robin mostly gets sardonic smirks and rolled eyes, so Tim really feels like the state of his dignity should be understandable to any logical telepath. 

“Why?” Bart asks. “What’s wrong with running with scissors?” 

“. . . they’re scissors, Impulse,” Tim says, unable to even compute why he would have to actually explain that, even to Bart. Bart just stares back at him blankly, like he thinks Tim is the one not making any sense right now. 

. . . alright, to be fair, Bart has made it very clear, he does think everyone else is weird and he’s perfectly normal, so Tim should not actually be surprised by that. 

. . . and, well, given it’s Bart . . . 

“You could accidentally slash or gouge yourself or someone else. Or you could trip and land on or accidentally throw them,” he says. “Scissors have been reported as being involved in up to fourteen percent of all serious eye injuries. And given your typical speed, any damage or injury they might cause would be exponentially increased.” 

“Oh, okay,” Bart says. “You coulda just said.” Then he drops the scissors and zips off again before they even finish clattering against the cement floor. 

. . . well, it’s something, Tim figures as Kon rolls his eyes again. Then Kon leans over to snag the scissors off the cement and Tim’s entire brain immediately collapses into electrified mush about the experience of watching Kon’s shorts ride up just an inch or two above his–

Cassie somehow trips out of Cissie’s lap and lands face-first on the floor herself, which is merciful because it distracts Tim from spontaneously combusting on the atomic level. 

“GUH,” she chokes, briefly flailing. Kon blinks over at her, his hand still on the scissors and the scissors still half on the floor, then straightens back up with them. That is . . . also an experience, in Tim’s experience of it. That is . . . an experience, also. 

. . . one that Tim is experiencing. 

Ngh. 

“You okay, Wondy?” Kon asks, looking puzzled. “Need a hand up or–?” 

“FINE YEAH YUP I AM OKAY YES FINE THANK YOU VERY MUCH,” Cassie yelps as she throws herself into the air and across to the opposite side of the kitchen table in clear self-defense, her face blazingly red. 

Tim is just very, very grateful for his mask right now.

[runningthroughthegarden]

daydreams of you

you were a daydreamer.

well, are. growing up your head was constantly in the clouds, instead of down on earth where it should be. all day stories constantly looped in your head. tales of love, adventure, and whimsy.

it was never-ending. but you never complained. you lived a below average teenage life. i mean sure you were content. but you never went to parties, didnt have a huge friend group, never did anything outlandish. you had a safe, boring, coming of age.

which is why the stories in your head were your only comfort. a way to feel alive without going through the actual emotions.

so when it was time to finally grow up, you finally put your silly stories to good use. and journalism was the one thing that went hand in hand with silly stories.

when you were offered a job at the daily planet you felt like you had finally made it. like this would spark something within you to finally lead a fulfilling life. but what the future held for you was far greater than you could have ever imagined.

it had been a few weeks since you were hired and you finally felt like you were settling in. the place was loud and chaotic. just what you needed to finally break out of your comfort zone.

you had arrived early, enjoying the calm before the storm, when clark klent came bustling in. his long black curls were askew and his glasses were barely hanging onto his face. your eyes followed him as he began walking over to his desk, pausing as soon as he felt your eyes on him.

"Oh- hi y/n. didnt expect to see you here this early" he breathed out. a small grin creeping up on his face.

what you didnt know is that he had rearranged his whole morning to arrive at work earlier because he knew you would be there. which obviously went quite poorly as he stood there frazzled and slightly panting.

"i could say the same thing about you" you giggled. you could already feel a blush creeping up on your face.

"ye-yeah you know just got some things i want to make sure i... stay on top of..." he trails off eyes locked with yours

"i mean just- just got some work i need to catch up on" he quickly replies.

"gotcha, well good luck with that kent" you giggle beginning to look back down at your computer.

"yeah thanks" he smiles turning in the direction of his desk.

he absolutely hates how tongue tied he gets around you. i mean just a simple conversation and he loses his mind. he has no idea how you have this effect on him, but man is he obsessed.

your mind wanders off as usual. but this time clark slowly starts to creep into your little stories. your mind subconsciously yearning for him. it had only been a couple of weeks since meeting him but god you were smitten. his dark handsome curls, his strong structured face, his smart mind, silly jokes, and how quickly he would get flustered.

you were snapped out of your daydream when lois' figure appeared in front of you. smiling up at her you could still feel the heat on your cheeks from your very small interaction with clark.

"you know hes totally into you right" lois begins.

"what? what are you talking about" you respond, caught off guard. i mean this was clark we were talking about, that man wouldnt hurt a fly. you chalked up his kind nature to him just being a nice person.

"are you seriously that blind? that man has been a mess since the day you arrived" lois laughs

"okay okay i understand. that still doesnt change the fact that he hasnt asked me out" you reply, leaning back in your chair.

"clark can barely breathe around you, i think he'd have an aneurism asking you out" she responds, getting up to continue on her walk across the office to the coffee machine.

letting out a small laugh you direct your gaze to clark. his eyebrows are furrowed deep into his work. looking back at your computer you can only daydream about the possibilities.

a few days had passed and clarks presence had been on and off. there were days he would be there hours at a time and days he wouldnt even be there at all.

while you were worried, there was so much work to be done you were so focused on your writing. finally finishing the article that had taken so much of your attention, you close your laptop happy to be free of the bright screen.

walking out of the office was literally a breath of fresh air. you had been in the stuffy building for far too long these past days. so knowing you were going home with no work needing to be finished felt amazing.

throwing your bag on the floor of your apartment you decided to treat yourself by cooking your favorite meal. changing into your favorite comfy outfit and throwing on your playlist you began cooking.

you had only just begun when you heard a soft knock at your door. turning off the stove you walk over to the door ready to shoo away whoever was behind the door.

but you never would have guessed that clark kent would be staring back at you.

"hi wh-"

before you could even respond, clark was planting a deep kiss on your lips. caught by surprise you freeze for a moment but quickly melt into him. the kiss is soft, barely there but speaks a million words.

"im sorry, i just really needed to do that" he whispers, face just inches from yours.

"no, im glad you did" you smile up at him.

"would you want to go on a date with me?" he asks, bringing his hands up to hold your waist.

"yeah, of course. i would love to" an even bigger grin spreading across your face.

"okay perfect, i will pick you up tomorrow at seven" he smiles.

"okay" you giggle

planting one more quick kiss on your lips he is gone just as quickly as he arrived.

god you were so confused, but so happy.

what you didnt know is that clark was terrified. he had spent these last few days fighting and the entire time he could only think about you. he never had the nerves to make a move before. suddenly he couldnt imagine a life without you. he was fighting villains with only you in mind, wanting nothing more but than to keep you safe. so as soon as he had recovered, he knew where he had to be. which is how he found himself kissing you in your doorway.

but his superman identity would be a secret to you. for now.

a/n: pt 2? :)

[leilasletters]

The Stranger in the Light

A Superman AU | Immortal Clark Kent x Fem!Reader | soft fate | tender beginnings | melancholy | romance |

masterlist

You met him on the quietest day of your life.

It was the kind of morning where the city hadn’t quite woken up. The air still felt blue. Soft. Like the hush before a song. The streetlights blinked amber against the pale dawn, and the world held its breath.

You were running late for your shift at the Metropolis Museum gift shop. You’d spilled coffee on your only decent blouse and missed the early train, so you’d taken the long way through Centennial Park to clear your head.

That’s when you saw him.

At first, he was just a shape. A man sitting alone on a bench near the fountain, shoulders broad and still, hands folded in his lap like he had nowhere in particular to be. You might’ve walked right past him if you hadn’t looked up at that exact moment.

But you did.

And he looked up too.

He smiled.

That was the beginning.

There was something about the way he smiled—quiet, like he didn’t do it often. Like he wasn’t used to being seen.

You didn’t know then that his name was Kal-El. That the world knew him by another one. That he could hear your heartbeat change when your eyes met. That he already knew yours.

To you, he was just… him. A stranger in the light.

You felt it like static in the air. Something in your chest shifted.

He stood when you got closer, politely, like people don’t do anymore. His suit was simple—dark, fitted, and too well-tailored for anyone trying to blend in—but his glasses slipped slightly down the bridge of his nose when he moved. He pushed them back up with a shy smile, and somehow, you smiled back.

“Beautiful morning,” he said.

His voice was low. Warm. Almost out of place in a world that moved too fast.

“Bit cold,” you said, adjusting your coat. “But yeah. Beautiful.”

You didn’t know why you stopped. Maybe it was the way he looked at you. Not the way men usually do—like they’re trying to figure out what they can take. No. He looked like he was trying to memorize you. Like your face meant something.

“I’m Clark,” he said, offering his hand.

You blinked. Then, cautiously, took it.

His palm was warm. Strong.

“…Hi,” you said. “I’m—”

“I know.”

You laughed, a little nervous. “I guess I must’ve been in the paper or something.”

“You’re always in my mornings,” he said, almost like he didn’t mean to say it out loud.

The world got very still.

You didn’t know how long you stood there—fingers still touching, your name barely hanging in the air—but something shifted after that. Something gentle but permanent, like the start of a season.

Over the next few weeks, you started seeing him everywhere.

He wasn’t pushy. Never forced anything. Just… showed up.

He'd be in line at the corner café at the same time as you. Or reading quietly on a bench near your work when you took your lunch. You weren’t sure if it was coincidence, fate, or some third thing the universe hadn’t named yet.

You learned that he worked at the Daily Planet.

He told you he wrote small columns now—things no one noticed, tucked deep in the back pages. He said he preferred it that way. When you asked why, he just smiled.

“I’ve spent too long being someone people look up to,” he said. “Now I just want to look across at someone.”

You didn’t understand what he meant then. Not really.

But you would.

The first time he held your hand, you were crossing the street and a car came too close.

He stepped in front of you—not dramatically, not with any show—just a firm, instinctive move. His arm brushed yours and your breath caught.

You didn’t say anything.

He didn’t let go.

He told you he was older than he looked.

You laughed. “Like how much older? Thirty-eight pretending to be twenty-nine?”

He tilted his head, thoughtful.

“…Give or take.”

It became a joke. You’d tease him about being a secret vampire or a timeless god. He’d smile, eyes heavy with something you didn’t understand yet, and let you.

You didn’t know, not then, that he was older. Not thirty. Not forty.

Centuries older.

You didn’t know that time didn’t touch him.

But you would.

That winter, Metropolis got its first real snow in years.

You were walking home in it when he appeared beside you, no coat, hair dusted with flakes like a dream come alive.

“You shouldn’t be out in the cold without gloves,” you said, chiding.

He held up his bare hands. “Doesn’t bother me.”

“You’re impossible,” you said.

He smiled.

You didn’t know it then, but he would never forget that moment. The snow in your hair. The way your cheeks flushed from the cold. The way you looked at him like he was just a man.

Not a god.

Not a legend.

Just… Clark.

You fell for him slowly.

Like rain soaking into dry earth.

He fell faster.

Like gravity had been waiting for you.

He kissed you on the museum steps after your late shift one night.

It was quiet. Soft. Not the kind of kiss that marks a beginning, but the kind that confirms something already growing.

“I’ve waited so long,” he murmured.

You didn’t ask what he meant. You only leaned closer.

If you’d known then what he was—who he was—maybe you would’ve hesitated. Maybe you would’ve feared the difference in your bones and the years between your heartbeats.

But you didn’t know.

All you knew was that he looked at you like you were sunlight in a world of shadows.

And for the first time in a long, long time…

…so did you.

You married him in spring.

It was a small ceremony beneath the old elm tree on the Kent farm in Smallville, where the wind always smelled like wheat and warmth. His hands trembled when he held yours, though you knew he could lift the world without blinking. That day, you made him human.

“Are you sure?” you whispered, right before your vows.

Clark looked at you like you were the last sunrise left on Earth.

“I’ve never been more sure of anything,” he said.

There were only a handful of guests—Martha’s locket was tied around your wrist, and Lois Lane wasn’t there. Neither was anyone from the Planet. He’d told you he wanted to keep it simple. Quiet. Just for the two of you.

And it was. It really, truly was.

You didn’t know how rare that was—how many decades he’d lived without this kind of peace.

Your first home together was a cottage tucked at the edge of town, surrounded by tall grass and windows that always caught the light. You picked the house. He fixed the roof with ease, even though you didn’t remember him bringing a ladder.

He made you tea every night, even though he didn’t drink it.

He drew you often. Quick sketches in the margins of the newspaper, sometimes half-finished—your mouth mid-laugh, the tilt of your eyes when you teased him.

“I’ll forget these details if I don’t,” he said once when you caught him.

“You have super memory.”

“Yes,” he said softly, “but I want to remember you like this.”

You didn’t ask what he meant.

You noticed it gradually—the way time touched you but not him.

At first, it was small. The fine line near your eyes. The gray in your hair. You laughed about it. Joked. Called him your Dorian Gray.

He always laughed, but it never quite reached his eyes.

You started wearing longer sleeves in the winter. He never got cold. Your bones ached. He never did. Still, he held you every night, like he could hold off the seasons just by keeping you warm.

He stayed the same.

You… didn’t.

You never had children. You tried once. When it didn’t happen, he never brought it up again.

“It’s okay,” you said once, when you found him quietly staring at a pair of baby shoes at the farmer’s market.

“I know,” he replied. But his voice cracked.

Instead, you built a life together in quiet details—shared books, hand-sewn curtains, morning walks. You taught him how to bake pies from scratch. He taught you how to fly, just once, on a warm summer night when no one was watching.

Your feet left the ground, and you felt like the stars were clapping just for you.

The sickness came quietly.

At first, you blamed the tiredness on age. Then the pain started. You ignored it. He didn’t.

You found him crying alone in the laundry room one night, face in his hands, shaking like a man breaking.

“Clark?”

He couldn’t look at you.

“You knew,” you said quietly. “Didn’t you?”

He nodded.

You held him that night. You held him. The strongest man in the world, brought to his knees by something he couldn’t fight.

The doctors said it was slow. That there were treatments. But you’d already made your decision.

You wanted to stay home. With him. With your garden, your teacups, the sketchbooks filled with versions of you.

He stayed by your side every second.

You never once saw him in the cape again.

Your last winter together, he started painting.

He used the upstairs room, the one you always meant to turn into a library. You could hear the strokes of the brush sometimes when the house was quiet.

He never let you see them.

On your final day, the snow fell again.

Just like that first morning in the park. He sat beside you, holding your hand like he had then. Not tight. Just enough.

Your voice was soft, thinner than you remembered it being.

“Don’t forget me,” you whispered.

Clark brought your hand to his lips.

“I never could.”

You touched his face, still young, still perfect, and smiled one last time.

“You were… my favorite life.”

And then the light in your eyes dimmed.

You were buried under the elm tree, where the wind still sang and the wildflowers kept growing each spring.

Clark didn’t speak at the service. He only stood beside your grave with the stillness of a storm held back by sheer will.

He didn’t cry. Not then.

He saved his grief for the paintings.

Years passed. Then decades.

He stayed in the house. Let the world think Clark Kent had retired. Superman disappeared for a while.

Sometimes, when the sky was red, you could see the window lit on the second floor.

Inside, he was painting you again.

From memory. From love.

Because it was all he had left.

[fishfooddude]

Neck Tattoo

Carmen "Carmy" Berzatto x Reader

It's the neck tattoo blurb... they did us so dirty by not giving Carmy a neck tattoo.

“Hey honey, just wanted to call and let you know I'll be late tonight. Nelson came into my office, said nothing- and dropped a mountain of paperwork on my desk, then left without saying anything… I'll pick up dinner on my way back, love you. See you later.”

Carmy tapped his phone against his hand as he looked around the waiting area of the tattoo shop he'd walked into after dinner service that evening, still unsure if this was a mistake or not. As the temptation to leave boiled over in his head, a young woman stepped into the area. She was about your height, with a similar hairstyle and the same kind of glasses you wore when you did computer work. “Carmen?” She asked sweetly, looking between him and another guy who'd walked in after him. Carmy nodded and hesitantly got up from his chair. She smiled, “I'm Suzie. I have my station set up, let's get started.” 

Carmy nodded and followed her into the open space behind a jewelry case filled with intricate piercing pieces. As Suzie showed him where to sit, he noticed the delicate tattoos decorating her arms. “So what are we doing today?” She asked as she gestured for Carmy to sit on a black massage table covered in plastic wrap. 

“Somethin’ I've been thinkin’ about for a while…” 

~

You huffed after finally managing to get the front door open, struggling to hold your oversized work bag and the paper bag filled with Chinese food you'd picked up for dinner. “Carm?” You called out into the dark apartment, but when you got no response, a puzzled expression crossed your face. It was unlike Carmy to not be home at this hour. You pushed down your worries and set the bags down on the counter before taking off your jacket and putting your shoes on the rack by the door. 

As you walked toward the bedroom, you felt your phone buzz in your back pocket. 

See you at home, baby

“Hm. Where are you, Berzatto?” You asked yourself as you re-read Carmy’s text. It was getting pretty late; you'd been the last customer at the mom-and-pop Chinese place you and Carmy had become regulars at, and you knew The Bear had been closed for at least an hour.  It was unlike Carmy to go out after dinner service - not unheard of, but definitely a rare occurrence that he would have told you about. Your mind raced with different scenarios of what he could be up to. As your mind wandered to the worst-case scenarios, the apartment door opened. 

“Hey, baby.” Carmy greeted as he walked into the living room. Your eyes widened when you saw a piece of a bright blue bandage peeking out of his sweater.

 “What happened to your neck? Did you hurt yourself at work?” You asked as you scrambled to get up from the couch. Carmy grinned and put his hand to his neck, “I did a thing…” he trailed off as you put a hand on his shoulder and craned your neck to look at the bandaged area. 

“A thing?” You asked, your eyebrows furrowed together as his vague response floated through your head. He clenched his jaw as his nerves took over. “What happened?” 

“I should wash it before I show you…” Carmy trailed off as he removed your hand from his shoulder. “Wash it? What hap- did you get a neck tattoo?” You asked as the realization crossed your mind, Carmy chuckled and walked toward the bathroom. You followed him and stood in the doorway as you watched Carmy pull off his sweater and toss it into the hamper in the corner. Based on the size of the bandage, you couldn't figure out what he could've tattooed on his neck. Carmy turned on the sink and waited for the water to warm up as he poked around the medicine cabinet for a fresh bar of soap. You leaned against the doorway and watched as Carmy took a washcloth to the bandage to loosen the adhesive. “Are you gonna tell me what you got?” You asked, feeling antsy. 

“Just promise you won't be mad…” he chuckled as he peeled the bandage away. Through the excess plasma, you couldn't make out what the fancy script font said, but you watched as he gently rubbed the fresh tattoo with soapy water. “It'll look better in a few days…” he said as he patted it with a hand towel. 

“Carm, you're being so weird,” you groaned, “just tell me what it-” you stopped mid-sentence when Carmy turned toward you to reveal your name sprawled across his neck. 

“Surprise,” he awkwardly teased as you stared at the shiny skin. 

“That's- that's my name… on your neck…” You said in disbelief. Carmy nodded, “Do you like it?” He asked, feeling his insecurity rising. 

“It's-it's… my name… on your neck…” You were at a loss for words; it was a beautifully done tattoo. The delicate font clashed with his other tattoos, yet still felt cohesive in some way. “I'm sorry, I'm just- I never thought you'd get my name tattooed anywhere, let alone on your neck.”

“Yeah… it may have been a bad-” Carmy started before you cut him off by tightly hugging his waist. Startled by the suddenness of the motion, Carmy silently hugged you back. 

“It's my name… I love it.” You quietly admitted. 

Carmy chuckled as he ran a hand down your spine, “I was worried there… I'm glad you like it, baby.”

[junkuna]

★ INK ME LIKE ONE OF YOUR FRENCH GIRLS !!

sukuna x reader ~ chapter 12 : bitter ˎˊ˗

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࿔ pairing - tattooartist!sukuna x tattooartist!fem!reader

| preview - You blinked, still holding onto your anger like a shield. “Well, congratulations on the power trip.” The words came out sharper than you meant, but you didn’t care. His smirk only deepened. “You’ve got an attitude today. What’s going on?”

࿔ fic tags - they're both idiots so 0 communication, DEFO gets frustrating at times / shameless smut, mostly vanilla though for the chapters ive already written / megumi is ur apprentice which is cute / sukuna + yujir BROTHERS / mahito is an asshole, mentions of attempted sexual assault. / enemies (ish?) to lovers / trying 2 go 4 a slow burn but i fear it's not as slow as i wanted it to be. will add more as we progress probably be i suck at describing my work / hate sex - hate kissing…? / sukuna begging (very ooc) / soo fluffy yum yum / he’s also a bit of a dick sometimes / TOXIC relationship

࿔ a/n - GUESS WHO FIGURED OUT HOW TO DO GRADIENT TEXT 😈 also guys ik this chapter is super short i was thinking of posting another one later tonight... is that something that i can do or is that seeming too eager IDK TELL ME ALSO thank u for all the love on this silly fic omg !! THANK U FOR 80 FOLLOWERS YAYAYAY

࿔ wc -2.7k (shorter one !!)

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You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring obnoxiously in your ear. You reached over, slamming the button to turn it off with more force than necessary, your mind already sluggish from the night before. The images of Sukuna and that girl… his hands on her, her laughter in his mouth… they replayed like a film stuck on loop, the scene stuck in your head like something you couldn’t erase. You hadn’t gotten much sleep, and the thought of having to face him — the source of all that frustration, confusion, and anger — was making your stomach churn.

Your phone buzzed on the nightstand, an incoming message from Sukuna.

 Sukuna [8:57]: Studio. Now. Don’t be late.

You glared at the screen, but it did nothing to ease the tightness in your chest. You didn’t even bother to reply. The way he demanded your time — your attention — like it meant nothing, like you were just another person to call on whenever he felt like it. It boiled your blood.

You dragged yourself out of bed and got dressed in something easy — not that you were dressing to impress. As if you could. The knot in your stomach refused to loosen, and the more you thought about the night before, the more you felt like you were lying to yourself.

But you didn’t care. You’d show him that. You’d show him exactly how little his presence affected you.

By the time you convinced yourself to actually go to his studio, it was just past noon. The building loomed in front of you, dark and industrial, its steel and glass exterior reflecting the gray clouds overhead. You took a deep breath, pushed your shoulders back, and walked in like you had nothing to lose.

Sukuna was already there, lounging in one of the chairs, looking far too comfortable. His eyes flicked up from his phone when you entered, and he leaned back casually, the same lazy grin playing on his lips. The usual sense of ease around him, the cool, detached confidence, irritated you.

“You’re late,” he said, his voice smooth, calm. “I thought you wouldn't show.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, your fingers tightening around the strap of your bag as you walked further into the room. “Yeah, well. You gave me zero warning.”

He shrugged, as if it didn’t matter to him. “I don’t need to. I’m the one calling the shots here.”

You blinked, still holding onto your anger like a shield. “Well, congratulations on the power trip.” The words came out sharper than you meant, but you didn’t care.

His smirk only deepened. “You’ve got an attitude today. What’s going on?”

The nerve of him. Your body went stiff. You didn’t want to answer, but his question had already set the wheels in motion. Your mind spun back to last night, the image of him with her still fresh in your thoughts. The kiss. His hands on her, his lips moving against hers like they had all the time in the world.

Why the hell did that matter? You hated him. You were supposed to hate him.

But here you were, standing in front of him with that sick feeling in your stomach and a sharp, defensive edge to your voice. “Nothing’s going on.” You tried to sound uninterested, but even you could hear the way your tone betrayed you. “It's just hard work resisting the urge to bleach my eyes while looking at you.”

He raised an eyebrow, looking like he found your reaction almost amusing. “You sure? Because you’re acting like a little bitch.”

You clenched your jaw. “And you’re acting like a smug, self-satisfied bastard, as usual.” The words spilled out before you could stop them. You didn’t know why you were being so rude, but every time you thought about him, about last night, it only made it worse. You just wanted him to go away.

His gaze softened ever so slightly, but the smirk never left his face. “I’m still waiting to hear what’s got you all riled up.”

You could feel the pressure building behind your eyes, the weight of it all threatening to crack the fragile mask you’d put on. He was right. He was always right. And it made you hate him even more. Because you knew, deep down, that this wasn’t just about the stupid collab or his cocky attitude. It was about him. About the way he made you feel so damn confused.

But you weren’t going to tell him that. No way in hell.

“I said it's nothing, Sukuna,” you said, your voice as steady as you could make it. "I’m not going to sit here and talk about it with you.”

A flicker of something darker passed over his face before it settled back into his usual indifferent expression. “Fine. If that’s how you want to play it.” He stood up slowly, his eyes never leaving you. “We’ve got work to do.”

You nodded curtly, forcing yourself to ignore the tightness in your chest. He was right, after all. There was work to do. You didn’t want to waste any more time on things you couldn’t change.

The silence that stretched between you both as you set up for the collab felt heavier than usual. You could feel the tension in your shoulders, in your muscles, in every little movement you made. And yet, Sukuna acted as though everything was normal — his movements smooth, his posture relaxed as if he hadn’t just gotten under your skin.

It made you even more irritated.

After what felt like an eternity, you both finished setting up the necessary equipment for the shoot. You felt like you couldn’t breathe, but you refused to let it show.

“So,” Sukuna said, his voice breaking the silence as he began adjusting the lighting. “I have a question.”

You kept your back to him, fiddling with the controls on the camera. “What?”

His chuckle was low, almost mocking. “About last night. Did you TP my house?”

You froze for a split second, before continuing to work like you hadn’t been caught off guard. “No,” you said, trying to sound as dismissive as possible. “Why would I do something so childish?”

He paused for a moment, then spoke again, quieter this time, like the words were carefully chosen. “Well, you're acting like you're hiding something.” he paused again before continuing, "And you're bad at lying."

You felt your breath catch, the statement hitting too close to home. Why was it that every time he spoke to you, he seemed to peel back layers you didn’t want to acknowledge?

“I’m not acting like anything,” you snapped, forcing your voice to sound as sharp as possible. “I just don’t want to waste any more time with you.”

The words were out of your mouth before you could stop them. It wasn’t what you really meant, but at the moment, it felt like the only thing that would keep you from cracking.

He was quiet for a moment, and you could feel his eyes on your back, that unsettling presence you couldn’t shake. “You sure about that?”

You whirled around, your fists clenched at your sides. “What's with the tone?”

Sukuna smiled, a little too smug for your liking. “I just feel like you’re running away from something. And I don’t think you even know what it is.”

“Shut up,” you snapped, every ounce of defiance rising in you like an angry wave. “You don’t know anything about me.”

He stepped closer, just enough to make you feel the heat of his presence. “I know enough,” he said softly, the words like a challenge.

A beat passed.

“Did you see?” Sukuna’s voice was low, pressing at you like a challenge rather than a question. He leaned forward, elbows on the table where your sketches lay, eyes pinned to yours.

“See what?” you snapped, irritation and something sharper flickering beneath the surface.

“You know what I’m talking about,” he said, voice rough, curling into that familiar edge of mockery.

Your chest tightened. You forced your jaw to unclench and spat out the first thing that came to mind. “If you’re talking about your girlfriend, yeah, I saw. And I don’t care.”

He blinked, caught off‑guard. For a second his expression went softer, confused—toys of frustration and something else flitting in his gaze. “What? She’s not my—”

But you cut him off before he could finish, slapping your pen down on the table. “I don’t care what she is. I want to work.”

You threw your hands up and grabbed the folder you’d hidden earlier, flipping it open with a flourish that scattered papers onto the floor. Ink‑splattered mockups, line drawings, color palettes all fanned out around you. “Let’s do this. We have an entire album to finish shooting, remember?”

Sukuna’s nostrils flared, his jaw tightening. For a moment, the two of you just stared at each other—anger, bewilderment, something raw and unspoken crackling in the air. Then, with a sigh that sounded more like a growl, he reached out and helped gather the scattered sheets.

“Fine,” he said at last, voice low. “Let’s work.”

He motioned to the lamps overhead, bright white bulbs that made the studio stark and clinical. “Set up the camera there,” he instructed, nodding toward a tripod in the corner. “I’ll arrange the lighting, and we’ll start with the second piece on the schedule.”

You hesitated—your fingers brushing a sheet that bore your delicate, minimalist flower design intertwined with his bold, street‑style serpent. It was beautiful and infuriating all at once. Taking a deep breath, you placed it on the easel and stepped back, crossing your arms. “Go ahead,” you said. “Do your thing.”

Sukuna’s gaze flicked to you, sharp. “You know how you want it shot?”

You swallowed away the lump in your throat. “High contrast. Shadows on the left, highlights glinting over the edges of your strokes. Get that shading to really stand out against the darker base.”

He nodded once and got to work—moving lights, adjusting stands, testing angles. You watched in silence, adrenaline still pounding from the earlier confrontation. With every click of a stand and hiss of a light, you felt the tension in your shoulders ease just a fraction.

Once the lights were in place, he stepped back and studied the scene as if he were memorizing it. Then he picked up the camera, slipped it into your hands, and pointed. “You frame it,” he said. “I’ll stand here.”

You took a steadying breath and raised the camera, peering through the viewfinder. The design was alive in the beam of light—your fine lines dancing along his bold contours. You clicked the shutter once, twice, adjusting your angle. Each time the camera flashed, it felt like you and Sukuna were breathing together, a rhythm you both controlled without words.

After a handful of shots, he tapped your shoulder. “Alright, let me try,” he said, taking the camera from your hands. You watched as he held it with surprising gentleness, lifting it to his eye and capturing a shot from a low angle that made the piece look powerful and aggressive—his style at its peak.

When he lowered the camera, he offered you a sidelong glance. It wasn’t mocking this time, but thoughtful. “Your design works,” he said, voice soft. “It helps mine look… better.”

Your stomach fluttered with something you didn’t want to name. You nodded, keeping your reply simple. “Your piece brings it to life.”

The rest of the session passed in a blur. The work was easier now, like something had shifted between you both — like the worst of the tension had been drained out. Sukuna was focused, sharp, but not harsh. Every once in a while, your shoulders would brush when you adjusted the lighting or moved around the frame, and neither of you bothered to apologize.

By the time you clicked the final shot and reviewed it on the small screen, the sky outside was shifting to a dusky orange, staining the studio windows. You lowered the camera and glanced over at Sukuna, who was stretching his arms over his head, the hem of his shirt lifting just enough to flash a strip of inked skin.

“We’re done,” you said, more relieved than you thought you would be.

He dropped his arms and smirked. “Told you we could work together without killing each other.”

You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips anyway. “Barely.”

He grinned, unbothered, and slumped into the worn leather chair pushed against the wall. “C’mere. Let’s upload these.”

You joined him at the desk, slotting the memory card into the laptop. As the images loaded one by one, a strange warmth unfurled in your chest. The photos were good — better than good. Your designs, his, the way they bled into each other under the lights… it looked professional, cohesive. It looked like something people would feel when they saw it.

Sukuna whistled low under his breath. “Damn.”

You glanced at him sideways. “You surprised?”

He shrugged, a little smug. “Not surprised. Impressed.”

You laughed under your breath and started selecting the best shots. Together, you picked the strongest ones for the launch — a mix of closeups, full shots, detailed angles. He let you lead, only giving input when you asked for it, and it struck you how easy it felt now compared to the early days.

Once everything was sorted and lightly edited, Sukuna pulled up the shop’s account and queued the posts. You watched as he scheduled the first one to go live immediately — the central piece, your intertwined designs, set against the stark, perfect lighting you’d captured.

“You ready?” he asked, finger hovering over the mouse.

You swallowed. Somehow, it felt bigger than it should have. Like it wasn’t just a post. Like it was the start of something you hadn’t expected.

“Yeah,” you said. “Let’s do it.”

With a click, the album was published.

There was a beat of silence as you both stared at the screen, watching the first likes and comments roll in almost immediately. Then Sukuna leaned back, stretching again, the chair creaking under him.

“People are gonna lose their shit,” he said, grinning. “This is some of our best work.”

You hugged your knees to your chest on the chair, letting out a shaky breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. “Yeah,” you said quietly. “It is.”

For a while, you just sat there together, the glow of the laptop screen painting your faces, the soft clicks of new notifications filling the air. There was no awkwardness, no lingering bitterness — just the satisfying weight of accomplishment settling between you.

Eventually, Sukuna shoved his hands through his messy hair and stood up, cracking his back with a groan. “Alright, boss,” he said, smirking down at you. “You hungry? I’m starving.”

You blinked up at him, a little dazed. “I thought you hated eating with people.”

He snorted. “Yeah, well. You’re not a person. You’re a pain in my ass.”

You laughed, standing too and slinging your bag over your shoulder. “Charming as ever.”

He grinned, wide and wicked, and bumped your shoulder with his on the way to the door. “C’mon. My treat. And no arguing this time.”

“No,” you said, sharper than you meant to.

Sukuna turned, blinking down at you like he hadn’t heard you right. “No?”

You shifted awkwardly under his stare, feeling defensive and stupid and — god — conflicted. “I don’t want to go,” you muttered, avoiding his eyes. “I’m tired. I just wanna go home.”

For a moment, he said nothing. Just stood there, hand on the door, the city noise filtering in from outside. The grin he usually wore slipped a little, not quite gone, but edged with something less certain.

“Right,” he said finally, voice low. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

You hated the way your stomach twisted. Hated the way the look on his face made something in your chest ache. But you just pulled your jacket tighter around yourself and stepped past him, out into the cooling night air.

He didn’t stop you this time.

Didn’t tease you or follow or call your name.

He just stood there in the doorway, watching you go.

--

taglist - @beabamboo @snapcracklen @donwalkers-henchman @fushiguroooozzz @emochosoluvr  @surgikull @msmarvelknight @keiva1000 @namj00n-ing @gina239 @throatgoatgeto

[mimiu3usoft]

Broken Glass| 6 ꜱᴏᴅᴀ ᴘᴏᴘ ✨

"You do know that Yuna is going to be furious about this, right?" Rumi said as she walked alongside Zoey and Mira, all three of them dressed in casual disguises. They moved cautiously, eyes scanning the crowd, just in case a fan might recognize them. So far, no one seemed suspicious.

Mira rolled her eyes and let out an exaggerated groan. "Puh-lease. First of all, you've been saying that all day. And second—can you stop calling her your girl every five minutes? I swear, if you keep it up, she's going to pop out of nowhere or something."

Rumi's face turned bright red. She spun on her heel to face Mira, flustered and wide-eyed.

"M-Mira!" she gasped, scandalized. 

"We aren't like that!! We're just friends!" Rumi exclaimed, flustered.

"Hmm... the tension around you says otherwise," Mira teased, leaning in with a sly smirk.

Rumi looked away with a small frown, but the growing red hue on her cheeks betrayed her. Mira raised a brow and grinned wider.

"I'm just saying the truth. Your face is giving you away—and I'm just here collecting answers."

Zoey chuckled beside them, clearly enjoying the exchange. "Sooo true," she giggled.

With a dramatic groan, Rumi yanked on the strings of her hoodie, tightening it until only a small portion of her red face was visible.

"Okay! He's got this special tonic. Apparently, it can heal anything—from sore throats to relationship problems," Zoey explained, eyes focused on her phone as she walked.

"Why are there so many people out today?" Mira asked, glancing around at the crowded street.

"Oh! Down that alleyway." Zoey pointed ahead to where they were supposed to go and led the girls into a narrow alley.

______

Just as they were about to go inside, you were standing at one of the food stands in the middle of the road. You wore a tank top and a jacket that had slipped off one shoulder, paired with ripped jeans. Your hair was styled in big bubble braids. 

You looked at the food around you, the scent of grilled spices and fresh broth lingering in the air. For a moment, your thoughts wandered to Bobby. He'd been working nonstop—running on caffeine and adrenaline. Maybe he'd smile for once if you brought something back. He deserved a moment of peace.

But something felt... off.

As you moved through the crowd, you started to notice it—people, one after another, holding slips of yellow paper. Their faces unreadable, too still. Their eyes oddly fixated.

'An advertisement?' you wondered, unease curling in your chest.

You turned, distracted, and accidentally collided with someone. "O-oh, sorry!" you said, startled.

Papers fluttered to the ground like falling leaves.

"It's okay," came the soft reply. Calm. Too calm.

You both knelt at the same time, hands brushing over the yellow sheets.

And then you saw the name printed in bold across the top.

"Saja Boys?"

You stood up with the papers still in your hands, brushing off your knees. Your eyes lowered to the person in front of you.

Platform shoes. Ripped jeans. Your gaze moved up slowly, taking in the pink knitted jacket he wore—unexpected but somehow stylish.

Finally, your eyes met his face.

'Baby face—'

The thought popped into your head instantly. His features were soft and young, almost boyish. 

'He's definitely a rapper.' You blinked, snapping back to reality. "Sorry, here's your paper." You handed the flyers back to him. He seemed to come back to his senses, too, reaching out to take them—until your fingers brushed against his.

"I-It's okay," he stammered, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.

You blinked again, now noticing the deep tone of his voice. 'Rapper.' The word echoed again in your mind.

"A new boy band?" you asked slowly, still processing the name on the flyer.

He nodded, just about to respond, when someone suddenly cut him off.

"There you are! Finished giving out those flyers?" a voice called out, belonging to a figure walking toward you and the guy you'd just helped. You tilted your head slightly, curious about who it was.

'Oh wow.'

A tall figure with silky black hair came into view. His features were striking—sharp jawline, straight nose, and warm brown eyes that caught the light just right. His presence was almost cinematic.

"No, I didn't. I accidentally bumped into this lady," said the baby-faced guy with rapper vibes, scratching his cheek a little.

The black-haired guy gave a short nod in understanding. "Oh it's okay, sorry about my friend here," he said, turning to face you directly.

You hadn't even realized you were still staring—barely blinking.

"Uh-huh." It was the only thing you could manage to say at the moment.

The black-haired guy shifted slightly, clearly thrown off by your blank stare. "My name is Jinu! I'm the leader of this boy band, Saja Boys," he introduced himself with an eager smile, lifting his hand for a handshake.

You glanced down at his outstretched hand, then back up to his face, maintaining your cool composure. "No need for a handshake. I don't do handshakes," you replied coolly.

Jinu froze for a second before awkwardly lowering his hand, letting out a small nervous chuckle. "Oh—my bad. I guess I'll have to find another way to get your attention," he said with a subtle smirk, his eyes briefly flickering with something playful before he quickly masked it.

"When's your debut?" you asked, your voice calm but curious.

Jinu's eyes lit up at your question. He quickly straightened up, smiling brighter.

"Ah! Now that you asked—we'll be performing near that plaza," he said, pointing toward the location just across the street. He glanced back at you, as if daring you to show up.

"Please come watch us perform! A little support means a lot to us—Saja Boys!"

You looked behind Jinu, seeing that the guy you bumped into was still standing there.

"And his name is?" you asked, your eyes briefly shifting to him.

His gaze met yours for a moment before darting away. He rubbed the back of his neck again, a little awkwardly.

"...Baby," he muttered in reply.

You blinked. Once. Twice. "Really?" you asked, completely dumbfounded by the name.

'Not only did I think "baby face", his name is literally Baby.'

"Um, well, it was nice to meet you both. I wish you luck on your debut, Jinu and Baby," you said with a slight smile, which made both Jinu and Baby smile in return.

"Thank you! Please come by and watch!" Jinu exclaimed enthusiastically.

"Yeah, you better go before your manager gets mad or something," you added, turning to walk away from the two guys, already thinking about buying food for you and Bobby. Maybe the girls would like some too.

'A tea would be nice...'

______

Jinu sighed in relief, placing a hand on his chest. "That was a close one," Mina said, poking Jinu on the side. He jumped at the sudden poke behind him. "Geez! Stop doing that," he muttered under his breath.

"She's so cold... not like the one you always described," Jinu commented, raising a brow towards Mina, who frowned

Mina popped her lollipop out of her mouth and scoffed. "Just be glad she didn't get suspicious of you two," she said sharply. "Now go and perform already," she said, walking off, going somewhere.

Jinu frowned. "Geez, okay, okay," he sighed, turning as the other members of the Saja Boys finished handing out their flyers.

"Let's go."

"Ooooh~ who was that pretty lady you and Baby were chatting up, huh?" The buff guy asked, putting his arm around Jinu and Baby. 

Jinu laughed nervously, brushing the buff guy's arm off. "It was just a random encounter, okay? She was... intense i guess."

Baby, still rubbing the back of his neck, mumbled, "She was cool... kinda scary, but cool."

Jinu shot him a look. "Scary?! She just doesn't do handshakes! That doesn't mean she's scary."

Baby shrugged. "Her stare was... sharp. I thought I saw my reflection in her eyes."

The buff guy cackled. "Oof, y'all are doomed. If she shows up to the debut, you better not trip over your lyrics."

______

"Wa-Wait. What is that?" Rumi said as they collected her tonics following their meeting with the individuals they ran into. They heard music playing in the distance and walked to the corner to investigate. Pink smoke covered the center of the gathering, and people murmured in amazement, wondering what it was. Mira and Zoey changed their so-called 'disguises.' Mira pulled Rumi's sweatshirt up to conceal more of her hair, while Zoey yanked on her own drawstrings too much, squishing her face and making her stumble. "Ooh, sorry!" Zoey winced.

Rumi stands up, breathing in and out, and walks closer to the odd pink haze. As a result, everyone surrounding the smoke could hear music thumping, which drew their attention.

Then the smoke clears, revealing five men performing in front.

♪"Don't want you need you. Yeah, I need you to fill me up!" ♪

♪" Masigo maysyeo bwa do..."♪

Rumi sneered, "It's those stupid jerks again!" Someone suddenly ran into Rumi and Mira in the middle, an elderly woman who hurried towards the jerks.

♪"Got a feeling that, oh yeah. You could be everything that I need!" ♪

The trio then discovers something: "These guys are boy bands?!" Rumi exclaims, stunned.

♪" Makes me want more."♪ 

♪"Looking like snacks!"♪

♪"You got it!"♪

♪"Take a big bite, want another bite!"♪ 

♪ "Neoui modeungeol nan wonhae!"♪

Rumi gasped as the black-haired guy produced a bag and began to sip from it.

♪ "Neomalgon modu peonhae peonhae"♪

"Oh no, he didn't," Rumi said, counting her bags. "That jerk stole one of my pouches!"

♪  "Can't let go, no, no, not tonight." ♪

♪ "Jigeum dangiang nal, Bwa shigan eobtjana"♪ 

♪ "Neon naegeoya imi algo itjana"♪

______

You just got out of the food store and have already purchased takeout for yourself and Bobby. Before you see the large gathering around the corner. "Oh yeah, those guys," you said before approaching it. "I wonder how good they're doing."

"Ohh~ A snack-"

______

♪ "'Cause I need you to need me." ♪

♪ "I'm empty, you feed me." ♪

♪ "So refreshing!" ♪

♪ "My little soda pop!"♪

They move in harmony, to the beat.

♪"You're all I can think of." ♪

♪"Every drop I drink up." ♪

♪"You're my soda pop." ♪

♪"My little soda pop." ♪

Zoey bobbed her shoulder with each beep, apparently loving the music.

♪"Cool me down, you're so hot."♪

Rumi scowled at Zoey, who stopped her shoulder with a timid smile. She was unable to stop moving her shoulder. "It is annoyingly catchy, though," Rumi said, her shoulder moving with the tune. Mira joins the shoulder dance.

"It's infectious."

As the male band continued to dance and sing with captivating energy, the girls suddenly gasped in unison. Their eyes widened as they noticed the mysterious markings reappearing on their bodies—symbols that had been there before but had mysteriously vanished until now.

"They're demons!" Rumi and Mira exclaimed simultaneously, their voices filled with shock and disbelief. Zoey, overwhelmed by the revelation, let out a piercing scream, "Magicians! I mean demons! Obviously demons!"

______

♪ "Make me wanna flip the top! Han Mogume, you hit the spot!" ♪

♪ "Every little drip and drop, fizz and pop, Soreum doda. It's gettin' hot..." ♪

After being momentarily distracted, you finally manage to push through the crowd and get a clear view of the performance. "I knew it—he's a rapper," you mutter to yourself, captivated by the rhythm and energy.

As you watch intently, your gaze suddenly locks with the leader's. Jinu's eyes widen in surprise. He had been scanning the crowd, noticing you weren't mingling with the others, but now he sees you clearly.

♪ "Come on, fill me up." ♪

♪ "Just can't get enough!" ♪

♪"You're all I can think of."♪

♪"Every drop I drink up"♪

♪"My Little soda pop." ♪

The crowd's cheers grew louder than before, with some fans pushing forward, eager to get closer to the boys on stage.

You huffed softly at the lyrics, "Soda pop, huh," a slight smile tugging at your lips. Lost in the moment, you didn't notice someone carefully trying to push through the crowd.

"Yu-Yuna!" The familiar voice snapped you out of your reverie. You quickly turned your head toward the sound, and not before your eyes locked once again with Jinu's. He smirked and winked playfully.

"Rumi?" you heard behind you.

Rumi, furious, had witnessed the entire exchange. Her eyes blazing with anger, she shoved a box of pouches into your hands with surprising force. Startled by her sudden shove, you barely caught the box before it hit you.

"What's this?" you asked, peering inside. It was filled with a bunch of tonics.

"I thought I told you to—Hey!" you tried to call after her, but Rumi had already pushed deeper into the crowd, making her way toward the front.

The performance ended to roaring applause, and the boys struck poses for their new fans.

"That's it for now. See you tonight on everyone's favorite variety show," Jinu announced with a grin. "Saja Boys love you!"

♪"My little soda pop!"♪ Jinu added, donning pink-tinted glasses. With a final wink and a finger heart, the group disappeared backstage.

"Huh, weird," you muttered, still processing the encounter.

Meanwhile, Rumi was fuming with anger, her frustration barely contained.

_______________________· · ─ ·ʚɞ· ─ · ·_____________________

Taglist: @doggyteam2028 @ulmban @ridewiththetide3@pandafuriosa60 @nesrynsblog

Note: Oop- someone anger-

[evansbuckle]

tattoo!artist!reader X Bucky Barnes

I've been thinking about this trope for a hot minute, and part of me wants to write more specific drabbles for these two, but we'll see. Hope you enjoy! Likes & reblogs always appreciated <3

word count: 1k

Warnings: little to no proofreading, maybe swearing? Reader uses she/her pronouns, and is referred to as 'the girl'. Mentions of Bucky mentalling struggling (very vague allusions to self-harm desire) Some mentions of body parts, but no specific body descriptions.

Bucky struggles and his brain is constantly crying out for distractions. He tried the journaling, and the knitting, and the rubber bands on the wrist but nothing quiets his mind. Until he stumbles upon a reddit post of some user sharing that body modifications (tats, piercings,) help still things, even for a brief moment.

So he walks into the first tattoo parlour he finds; it’s small, filled with sketches and people covered in borderline scary ink head to toe. He sticks out, badly. He doesn’t know what he wants or what he's doing there, but quickly figures his dead best friends birthday is a good place to start, so he makes an appointment and comes back.

He sits on the chair, and watches a girl prepare a fresh needle and ink with quiet grace. He appreciates that she doesn’t push him to talk, only asking if he’s ready, and telling him when she’s going to start. He barely registers the needle touching the skin on his flesh bicep, too entranced by the way her gloved hands control the vibrating thing. He takes his time looking over her tattoos, the black lines on her fingers visible through the blue gloves. He barely registers her question.

“Sorry, repeat that?”

A quiet chuckle, then “is this your first one?”

“Yeah.”

A brief nod, the hair in her ponytail moving slightly, “any special meaning?”

He’s quiet for a moment. “friends birthday.”

She briefly glances up at him, but doesn’t push the topic, putting the tattoo gun down. Cleans it efficiently, wraps it in second skin, and walks Bucky over to the counter. He pays, tipping generously because he doesn’t know how to tip tattoo artists, and silently decides he’s coming back soon.

Two months pass before he walks back into the same shop, and is met with the same buzzing sound that seems to cover up the soft rock in the background. Half hour later he’s laying down on the same chair, the same girl working on the same arm. It’s a phoenix, rising from the ashes. Symbolic for sure, but Bucky mainly just really likes the birds. 

The girl hums as she tattoos, pink gloves instead of blue this time. 

“New gloves?”

“What?”

“I-just- the last time I was here you had blue gloves.”

A soft chuckle, kind eyes meeting his nervous ones, then “yeah, i fancied a switch up. feeling pink, i guess.”

Three hours go by, and it’s only half done. Bucky’s sent home and told to come back in two weeks. 

So he does. 

He walks back into the same shop, same buzz, same soft rock, same sweet girl. 

He decides to talk this time. He tells her his name, about his recent inclination for body art, his backstory (or at least a modified version). He even asks her out for a coffee. She’s a bit resigned, but his traumatised-yet-still-beautiful eyes end up convincing her. He doesn't stop smiling the whole walk home.

Three days later, Bucky walks into a cute little coffee place downtown, his gaze immediately landing on the girl focused on her sketchbook, decorated hands moving with skill. He spots two coffee cups in front of her, walks over, and sits down. 

It’s awkward at first, small silent gaps, and Bucky stumbles over his words a fair few times, yet each time he’s met with the amused glances of the girl in front of him. When she starts talking, his heart stills. Her stories put a smile on his face, and the rest is soon forgotten. 

A week later, he starts bringing her flowers at work, always paired with “they were pretty, reminded me of you.” Persian lilies, carnations, daises even, whatever first catches his eye when he walks into his local florists. Her co-workers start teasing about the man who’s sweet on her, but glimpses of the flowers never fail to make her smile through long days. 

Weeks after that, Bucky sits in her apartment while she finishes cleaning, or laundry, or whatever housework she needed to do. The girl walks over to sit next to him when she’s finished, artwork covering her arms, hands, parts of her legs and feet. Bucky rarely takes his eyes off the ink, downright enamoured at the way they accentuate her soul, each little drawing showing the world a glimpse of her personality.

“Do you want to try?” Her voice cuts through the silence.

“What?” His gaze snaps up to her. She smiles, grabs his arm, leading him to her spare room. He looks around as he walks in, not having been in there before; it’s fairly empty, mostly a storage room he notes, save for a desk with something that looks like squares of flesh, and ink bottles. She sits him down, quickly gathering everything needed. Tattoo gun plugged in, fake skin in front of him, a small ink cap next to that.

She perches on his lap, showing him how to hold the gun. He listens, obviously, but every fibre of his body is hyper aware of just how quiet this moment feels - someone he cares for, is growing to love, living life with him, willingly. He smiles to himself, wondering how the hell he got to this place when everything was dark two months ago. 

The gun buzzes to life in his hands, and her smaller ones hold him tighter as she guides his movements over the silicone skin. They laugh, and after a while she lets go, letting Bucky freehand it. He tries to focus on the task at hand, he really does, but the warmth of the body on top of his engulfs him, wrapping around his heart like a safety net.

He quickly decides life isn’t quite so bad when there's someone to share the stillness with.

[redeemingvillains]

ch2: the captain & the maeven - sea captain!mattheo riddle

summary: “I will deny ever saying this to you." word count: 1.9k soundtrack: lovers eyes - mumford & sons

« chapter one | chapter three - coming soon! »

Captain?

He saw the way your eyes blew wide and the pink tinge on your cheeks, and fuck if he didn’t love the feeling of making you flustered.

“It’s – that’s the same thing” you defended.

“Is it?” he goaded, tilting his head with a knowing smirk.

It wasn’t. You knew it, he knew it.

“For the purposes of my rule, it is.”

“Hell of a rule. I can’t even begin to imagine how many guys you’ve had to let down, heartbreaker.”

You frowned at that. “It’s YN.”

“YN” he repeated appreciatively, a slow smile spreading across his face as he savored the sound of it, the weight of it on his lips.

You grasped the counter a bit firmer. 

“Captain Mattheo Riddle” he said, extending his hand.

You looked down at it and then you gently swiped the empty mug from in front of him, turned, and pushed open the swinging door into the kitchen.

Message received he thought. Conversation over… for now.

Maeven (Mae) Anderson was as old as Dutch Harbor itself, wound so intricately into its fabric that it was hard to differentiate one from the other.

She was bangled silver bracelets that clacked and clanged as she talked, windswept white curls that haloed her face, and a voice like sand over rocks, the result of trying and failing to quit smoking for the last thirty years. She had soft, knowing eyes, a tongue as sharp as any sailor, a heart too big for the entire town and she was as much a mother figure as you’d ever had.

And so she watched carefully the next morning as you frantically tried to scrape a failed batch of cookies off a large baking sheet; some were burnt, some were mushy and some had run together near the middle into one large blob.

“Something’s wrong. I must’ve-I don’t know…” you muttered quietly to yourself flushed and flustered as you pushed your hair out of your face and flipped through a recipe book she knew you had long since memorized.

She took a quiet sip of her coffee, eyeing you over the rim of her mug and then she let her eyes wander to the faces in the room, trying to catalogue what was different… what, or who could've possibly turned you into such a bothered mess?

And then the door swung open.

She watched you look up.

And she saw your hands shake.

ˋ°•*⁀➷

Mattheo pushed the door open until it hit something hard and he realized that even though it was just before 6AM the small café was packed wall to wall with men who eyed him like he’d already insulted them just by being there. He ducked his head and shuffled in with enough room to close the door and caught the hint of a smile from you before you turned to grab a mug.

He navigated through the bodies squeezing into a tight corner between the counter and wall.

“Didn’t know I needed a reservation” he muttered to you as you smirked and dropped his coffee in front of him before returning to your failed cookies.

As the sun peeked over the shoreline it didn’t get any less busy, with most have nothing better to do before the season but to sit in the warmth and enjoy your free refills; The Salt and Shadow was perhaps the only enjoyable place in the otherwise desolate town that held all the warmth of an ice floe at sea.

Mattheo noticed that your counter seats were coveted, in some places two deep as sailors basked in your attention, your jokes, and your laughter. You listened attentively to each and every one of them and contributed your own fair share of jabs; he could see it on you now: you were one of them, not even the lewdest comments bothered you, though you’d still blush and roll your eyes.

Someone nudged his shoulder.

“If you stare any longer, she’ll get a hole in her forehead, and you’ll have one to match.”

He pulled his eyes off of you to Mae as she nodded her head subtly towards a group of guys seated at a large table, and one in particular that was eyeing him with barely restrained fury and a palpable threat that was as clear as it was silent.

He was big, with square shoulders, dark eyes, ruddy windburnt cheeks and unkempt scruff, and if Mattheo didn’t already know your rule he’d have assumed he was your boyfriend, or husband for that matter, because if you were Mattheo’s he knew he’d be wearing the exact same expression. Probably one worse.

“Joey Malone” Mae muttered quietly, looking straight ahead so as not to let on she was speaking to him. “He's a trawler on The Bandit. They grew up together and he can be a bit… protective” she said with narrowed eyes and a wrinkle of her nose before she hid her expression in her mug as she sipped her coffee.

“Right” Mattheo said, ducking his head shyly. “Well, thanks… I’m Mattheo Riddle, Captain of the Emerald—"

“—I know who you are” she interrupted him.

He smirked and laughed as he shook his head at her.

A few moments passed before she leaned toward him, her wooden stool creaking in reply.

“I will deny ever saying this to you” she started as her eyes slid to him, eyeing his dark curls and twinkling eyes, thinking of another sailor in the same café many years ago who’d had the same expression as he looked at her behind the counter.

“You have to patient with her.”

A pause.

“And her favorite flowers are sea thrifts.”

He nodded appreciatively, trying and failing to hide the gigantic smile on his face. And then like a magnet his eyes trickled back to you and she smiled.

Mattheo spent the day inventorying the boat, placing orders for supplies, checking on his crew and working through a pile of paperwork that would surely take him the rest of the preseason to finish.

It was late when he was done but as soon as his feet were back on land, he found them wandering to you, to The Salt and Shadow. It’s on the way anyway he told himself nonchalantly though there was nothing casual about how glad he was to see that you were still there.

He went to pull the door open, but unlike before it was locked. He leaned over, peered into the window and rapped his knuckle on the glass.

You jumped and spun towards the sound and when your eyes landed on him he could see you pause, like you were weighing your options. You pursed your lips, but then slowly made your way to the door.

You gently pulled it open, but stood in the doorway, blocking his path, leaving him in the cold as you looked up at him expectantly.

His eyebrow quirked.

Yours quirked back.

“Too late for a coffee?” he asked innocently.

You searched his face. You didn’t mind the quiet, the time alone, you were used to it, especially in season when more than half of the town would depart for the water, but it didn’t mean you didn’t get lonely, that you didn’t enjoy his company.

He shifted to lean his forearm against the doorway, infuriatingly confident as he hovered over you.

“You’re thinking about” he teased, a smirky smile on his lips, thrilled with himself to see even a small crack in your façade as your cheeks flushed at the gesture.

You hated this, hated to feel your heart racing, beating against the walls of better judgement you were trying to construct around yourself.

But you stepped back and let him in without a word as you turned and moved behind the counter.

He smiled widely as he shut the door behind him and shuffled to follow you, settling into his seat.

It was quiet but for the sound of you making his coffee, slow methodic. And he watched you appreciatively, willing to take whatever bit of you he could get, even if it was complete silence and the chance to be near you. 

“What port were you at before?” you asked quietly, setting the tone for an easy, platonic, non-flirty conversation.

He let out a breath. “Bellingham, Illwaco, Westport, Monterey Harbor, Pillar Point…” he started, counting off on his fingers cockily. But his attempt to impress you fell flat, he realized, as he stopped, and saw the straight line of your grimace before you laughed humorlessly, shaking your head.

“Let me guess, never stayed longer than a season, two max?” You curled your fingers in the air as if to quote him, “Make as much money as possible and move on? No destination in mind, just following the tide and the payday?”

He opened his mouth to argue, but stopped because that’s exactly what he’d been doing, he just hadn’t heard it described so negatively before. It was completely normal, common even, to jump ports from season to season, it was how he’d become captain so quickly.

You smiled smugly at his stymied expression. “Even better. In a few months you’ll be off making foolish decisions somewhere else.”

She is fucking impenetrable he thought as he pulled off his backwards hat, ran a hand through his curls and sighed.

Despite yourself your eyes followed the movement; his curls were thick and boyish and bouncy and you averted your gaze as you watched his sleeve slip down to reveal tattoos on his wrist, his arm.

You sat his coffee down and slid into your seat across from him.

“What’re you reading?” he tried, nodding his head to your book as he took a sip and eyed you appreciatively, his pulse quickening at just how beautiful you were and the fact that he finally had you all to himself again, even if he was fumbling it.

You glanced down at the cover. “Red Seas Under Red Skies – it’s a story about a thief who becomes a pirate and a heist he’s trying to pull off” you smiled as you ran your finger around the edges, looking lovingly at it.

He watched your eyes sparkle and then glanced around at the shelves, the books, all with worn edges, well-loved. And just like when he learned your name, he felt he had earned another piece of you, a little something you trusted him with. 

You looked back to see him staring at you with a puppy dog smile on his face.

“Can you ... not?” you said, blushing, as you slid the book under the counter.

“What?” he said, smiling wider.

“Look at me like that.”

“Like what, heartbreaker?” His eyebrow cocked and he bit his lip and suddenly your heart was at sea, unmoored, cresting a tidal wave and threatening to tip very hard and very fast over the edge.

“That’s not my name” you said defensively.

“YN” he conceded, correcting himself, which was somehow worse, because he said it softly, delicately, letting it roll off his tongue.

And over two, then three cups of coffee that surely meant that he’d be up for the rest of the night Mattheo slowly, patiently pried things out of you. The amber warmth on his tongue in its sweetness, in its bite, in the way it always left him wanting more became synonymous with you, intertwining in his mind as you both tiptoed around the undeniable start of something that was begging to ignite between you.

If you’d let it.

⪼ chapter three - coming soon!

⚓first mates: @kenjikishimotoswifey, @mattiesgf, @sleepiibunniiii @darlingshecried, @girllblogging777, @foivetimesacharm, @clar2aa, @broadwaybaby123, @slytherinscreamqueen, @loverliner, @smut-anarchy, @locknco, @wybieivy, @itznotsophia, @cipheress-to-k-pop, @aur0ral1ghts, @revesephemeres @midnights-with-him @rositxespinosa @breathingstarlight

[pankowcrumbs]

The French Family Holiday X Will Poulter

MasterList

Will Poulter Masterlist

The gravel crunched under my sandals as I wheeled my suitcase towards the familiar blue shutters of the holiday house. Even at 1am, the air in the South of France was warm, sticky with that humid, sweet scent of lavender and saltwater that always made me feel like I was twelve again, arriving in the back seat of my mum’s car with melted sweets stuck to my leggings.

But this time, I was 26. And arriving alone. And two flights, a delayed train, and a very questionable taxi later, I was exhausted.

I let myself in quietly through the front door with the old spare key hidden in the hanging herb pot, my bag’s wheels softly bumping against the wooden threshold. The familiar creak of the floorboards welcomed me like an old friend.

I paused.

The lights in the sitting room were still on.

That was odd.

I peeked in, fully expecting to see a forgotten lamp or someone’s iPad left charging only to find Will sitting on the worn blue sofa, one arm slung over the back, nursing a cup of tea.

I froze in the doorway. “Oh. I didn’t think anyone would still be up.”

He looked up immediately, his face softening into that lopsided smile I’d known all my life. “Hey,” he said, standing up slowly. “Wanted to make sure you got in okay.”

I blinked. “You stayed up? For me?”

He shrugged, like it was nothing. “Your mum said your flight was delayed, figured you’d be coming in around now. Thought I’d wait up. Didn’t want you dragging your bag through the dark on your own.”

My stomach did something annoying fluttery and I shook it off, brushing a hand through my hair.

“That’s… really sweet,” I said, suddenly feeling awkward in my oversized airport hoodie and leggings. “Thanks, Will.”

“Course,” he said, already moving to grab the handle of my suitcase. “C’mon, I’ll take this up.”

I followed him up the stairs, the familiar creaks echoing up into the quiet of the sleeping house. Our parents and siblings had all arrived the day before, starting the summer tradition early. We'd spent every summer here since I was five and he was eleven two families, one house, and a thousand memories layered into the walls.

Now? It felt different. Not just because I was tired or older, but… something had shifted.

He stopped outside the door to my usual room. His hand lingered on the handle as he looked back at me.

“Same room as always,” he said, a little smile playing at his lips. “No one dared take it.”

I laughed softly. “Probably because it’s got the worst fan in the house.”

He chuckled and pushed the door open for me, wheeling my bag in. “Still beats the tent they tried to stick me in one year.”

“True. You lasted half a night.”

“Because a frog sat on my face, Y/n.”

We both laughed, the sound too loud in the sleeping house. He winced slightly and lowered his voice. “Oops.”

He stood there, in the doorway, scratching the back of his neck. He was wearing joggers and a loose grey t-shirt, his hair a little messy like he’d run his hands through it a thousand times. His eyes looked tired but kind, watching me like he hadn’t seen me in years, not just a few months.

“So… how’s work?” he asked, leaning against the doorframe.

“Busy,” I sighed, stretching my arms above my head. “But good. Hence why I was the last to arrive.”

He nodded, his eyes dipping briefly to the exposed strip of skin where my hoodie had ridden up with the stretch. When I dropped my arms, his gaze snapped back to mine. “I’m glad you made it.”

“Me too,” I said, suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. “It wouldn’t feel like summer without this place.”

“Or without you,” he added, and then blinked like he hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

I swallowed. “Thanks, Will.”

He smiled gentle, almost nostalgic. “Alright. I’ll let you get some sleep.”

He stepped back slightly, but didn’t quite turn to leave.

I tilted my head. “What?”

He hesitated. “Nothing. You just look… different.”

I raised an eyebrow, teasing. “Older?”

“No.” His voice dropped. “Beautiful.”

My breath caught.

And just like that, the air shifted.

The kind of shift you couldn’t explain. Like the moment before lightning strikes.

I didn’t know what to say. So I laughed. Awkwardly. “Okay, you’re clearly sleep-deprived.”

He smiled softly but didn’t deny it.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said, backing away slowly.

“Goodnight, Will.”

“Night, Y/n.”

I closed the door gently and pressed my back against it once it clicked shut. My heart was racing. My skin was warm.

What the hell just happened?

I woke late the next morning to sunlight pouring through the shutters, warming my sheets like it was trying to coax me back to sleep. But the scent of fresh croissants and espresso drifting through the floorboards was stronger.

Padding downstairs barefoot and bleary-eyed, I found our two families already spread out on the sun-drenched terrace breakfast half eaten, coffee cups steaming, conversations overlapping like birdsong.

Will was sat at the far end of the table, sunglasses pushed up into his hair, one hand nursing a cup of coffee, the other flipping through a paperback. He looked up the moment I stepped out, like he felt me before he saw me.

“There she is,” his mum beamed. “The working woman!”

“Morning,” I said, sliding into the empty chair beside my mum and reaching for a croissant. “Sorry I missed dinner last night.”

“You didn’t miss much,” Will said casually, not looking up from his book. “Except your brother trying to barbecue a baguette.”

I smiled. “Tragic.” Glancing at my Brothers Tom and Kane.

“Humiliating,” Tom muttered down the table, eliciting laughter from both mums.

Will’s leg nudged mine beneath the table.

I paused, eyes flicking to him. He still wasn’t looking at me, but there was the faintest smirk on his lips.

It was nothing. Not really.

But it didn’t feel like nothing.

The day rolled on lazily, as summer days at the house always did. People peeled off to swim or sunbathe or nap. The group split and reformed throughout the afternoon like clouds shifting overhead.

I ended up sitting on a sun lounger with a book I wasn’t really reading, sunglasses perched on my nose as I half-listened to the sound of Will, Ed, Tom and Kane kicking a football across the lawn.

At one point, the ball veered wildly. I looked up just in time to see it coming straight toward me but before I could move, Will was already there.

He caught it effortlessly, standing just over me, shirt damp from sweat, hair a mess, breathless.

“You alright?” he asked, towering over me, blocking the sun.

“Not a scratch,” I said, blinking up at him.

He held my gaze for a second longer than he should have. Then he smiled and tossed the ball back across the lawn.

His hand brushed my shoulder as he turned to go.

Accidental. Maybe.

But my skin tingled where he’d touched it.

That evening, as the sun dipped low and the sky turned dusty pink, everyone migrated to the long dinner table beneath the vines. The air buzzed with wine and stories, old memories being dragged out for retelling.

Will sat beside me. Not directly beside there was his sister Jo between us but close enough that I could feel his presence like static.

At one point, someone made a joke about all the family holidays we’d had, and Charlie his other sister joked “You two were practically glued together for years.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing. “Because he always tattled on me!”

“I was protective,” Will said with a grin, reaching for the wine.

“More like bossy,” I quipped back.

Our eyes met for just a second longer than the joke needed.

He passed me the bottle wordlessly. Our fingers touched as I took it from him.

Later, as we helped clear the dishes, I was rinsing plates at the outdoor sink when he stepped up behind me, reaching over to set something down. His chest brushed my back, and he didn’t step away immediately.

My breath caught.

He leaned down, his voice low and quiet.

“Still think I’m just bossy?”

I turned my head slightly, heart thudding. “Are you saying you’re not?”

His eyes searched mine for a second. “I think you know.”

Before I could say anything, someone called out for more wine glasses and the moment broke.

He stepped back like nothing had happened.

But something had.

That night, unable to sleep, I wandered out onto the balcony that wrapped around the top floor of the house. The stone was cool under my bare feet. The sea shimmered in the distance, dark and endless.

I wasn’t expecting to find Will already out there.

He was leaning on the railing, shirtless, staring out at the night like it might speak back.

He turned slightly when he heard me, then smiled.

“Can’t sleep?”

I shook my head. “Too warm.”

“Same.”

I stood beside him, arms resting on the rail. We didn’t speak for a while. The quiet buzzed around us like something alive.

Eventually, I said, “It’s weird being back here, isn’t it?”

He glanced at me. “Weird how?”

“I don’t know. Everything’s the same. But we’re not.”

He was quiet for a moment. Then he said, “No. We’re definitely not.”

He looked at me then. Really looked. His eyes flicked down to my lips and back up again. He didn’t move closer. Didn’t reach for me. But the air between us felt wired.

“I should go to bed,” I whispered, voice thinner than I meant it to be.

He nodded once. “Yeah.”

I started to walk away.

“Y/n.”

I paused.

His voice was low. Serious.

“If I were less of a coward, I would’ve kissed you under that fig tree when you were nineteen.”

I turned slowly, heart hammering.

“What stopped you?”

He gave a quiet, almost broken laugh. “Everything. Your age. Our families. The fact that I thought I’d ruin you.”

“You wouldn’t have,” I said softly.

He held my gaze.

And in that moment, I wasn’t sure who I was anymore. The girl who grew up next to him, or the woman who suddenly realised he’d always been watching her, even when she wasn’t looking.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” I said, and went inside before I did something I’d never be able to take back.

The days passed in a golden blur of heat and long lunches, of lazy mornings and chaotic dinners. The kind of days that only existed in childhood memories and the kind of summers you never think will end.

Will had always been steady. Familiar. He’d tied my shoelaces when I was five, pushed me on swings when I was seven, and thrown me over his shoulder when I was nine and dared to beat him at Monopoly.

But now? His glances lingered too long. His voice dropped too low. And when he passed me a bottle of wine or brushed past me at the dinner table, I felt it. Every inch of him. Like my skin knew him before I even let myself admit it out loud.

I wasn’t imagining it. The looks. The touches. The heat simmering just under the surface of every shared joke and long glance across the breakfast table.

And I knew I wasn’t the only one noticing.

"You’ve been quiet," Charlie said one afternoon, lounging on a deck chair next to me, sipping iced rosé.

"I’m just soaking it in," I lied, pushing my sunglasses further down my nose.

She gave me a sideways glance. “Soaking in the sun or my brother?”

My stomach lurched.

“What?” I laughed, too quickly.

She smirked. “Oh come on, Y/n. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Like he’s dying to say something but terrified of what it’ll mean.”

“I think you’re imagining things.”

“No,” she said, her voice softer now. “I think you’re just scared it’s real.”

That night after dinner, when the house was winding down and someone put a speaker on low with old soul music humming through the terrace, Will caught my eye across the garden.

No words.

Just a look.

And I knew what it meant.

A moment later, I slipped inside to grab a towel from my room, and when I passed the hallway mirror, I paused. I looked flushed. Excited. Like I was going to do something reckless.

And maybe I was.

I found him down by the pool. The underwater lights cast a soft turquoise glow over the tiles, shimmering up the trees. He was already in black swim shorts clinging low on his hips, hair damp, arms resting on the side of the pool.

He didn’t speak as I stepped closer, just watched.

I dropped my towel on the lounger and slipped into the pool in silence, the water deliciously cool against the thick heat of the night.

We were quiet at first. Floating. Occasionally brushing past each other in the shallow end. Saying things that meant nothing commenting on the moon, how hot the day had been, whether the rosé at lunch had been too dry.

And then he swam toward me.

Deliberately.

He stopped an arm’s length away.

"Y/n," he said, voice low.

I tilted my head. “Yeah?”

“I don’t want to ruin anything,” he said. “But I’m starting to feel like I already have just by thinking about this too much.”

My chest ached. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

“I’ve wanted to kiss you for longer than I care to admit,” he said, water dripping down his jaw. “But I never let myself think it was even a possibility. You were always… too important. Too off-limits. And now you’re here, and you’re not a kid anymore and...”

I closed the space between us in a single breathless step.

“Then stop talking,” I whispered, “and kiss me.”

His hands found my waist underwater as his mouth came crashing down on mine.

It wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t hesitant.

It was years of tension and wondering and longing pouring into one kiss.

His mouth moved over mine with aching urgency. One hand slid up my back, the other tightening on my hip. I wrapped my arms around his neck, pulling him impossibly closer, our bodies pressing together under the water.

He groaned softly against my lips. “This is so stupid,” he murmured between kisses.

“Then stop,” I breathed.

“I can’t.”

He kissed me again deeper this time, his hand skimming along my ribcage like he was trying to memorise it.

When we finally broke apart, panting and breathless, I leaned my forehead against his.

“I don’t know what this means,” I whispered. “What we’re doing.”

“I don’t either,” he admitted. “But I know I don’t want to stop.”

I smiled.

“Neither do I.”

Later, when we were drying off in silence under the stars, he passed me my towel and didn’t say anything for a long time. Then:

“This… this stays between us, yeah? For now.”

I nodded.

Because even though every nerve in my body was still tingling from his kiss… I knew the chaos it would cause if our families found out too soon.

But something had shifted.

Something real.

The next morning, I woke up feeling... light.

No guilt. Just heat in my chest and the ghost of his lips on mine.

But the world didn’t stop just because we’d kissed under moonlight. The house was still bustling with siblings, coffee cups, loud laughter, and the scent of sunscreen and buttered toast.

Will greeted me at breakfast like nothing had happened.

Almost.

There was a flicker in his eyes, a half-smile that said we know and no one else does.

And somehow that made everything feel deliciously dangerous.

Later that afternoon, most of the family had peeled off some to the beach, some to the village markets, and Tom had somehow convinced both mums to help him recreate a charcuterie board “for research”, whatever that meant.

I had wandered up to my room, supposedly for a nap, when a gentle knock made my breath catch.

I opened the door, and there he was.

Will.

Looking far too smug in that linen shirt, sleeves rolled, a glint in his eye.

“Fancy a walk?”

“Does this walk involve actual walking?” I asked, folding my arms.

“That depends,” he said, stepping inside quickly and nudging the door shut behind him, “on how long I can go without kissing you.”

Before I could respond, he kissed me.

Soft at first. Just a brush. Like he was asking for permission again even though we’d already crossed the line the night before.

Then I kissed him back and all bets were off.

His hands slid around my waist, backing me up until I hit the wall of the bedroom. My fingers gripped the front of his shirt as he kissed down the side of my neck, murmuring, “I missed you this morning.”

“You saw me at breakfast,” I said breathlessly.

He grinned against my skin. “Not like this.”

I was just about to respond when a very familiar voice floated up from the hallway.

“Y/n?”

We froze.

Charlie.

I shoved Will off me with a gasp, scrambled to fix my shirt, and silently prayed my face wasn’t glowing red.

He quickly moved to the bookshelf, pretending to scan the titles, like that would explain why he was randomly in my room.

Charlie knocked once before pushing open the door.

“There you are,” she said, then blinked. “Will?”

“Hey, Charlie.” He smiled far too smoothly. “Was just checking out this room. Forgot how nice the view is from up here.”

Charlie narrowed her eyes.

“The view, huh?” she said slowly, before turning to me. “Mum was looking for you. You promised you’d help set the table for later.”

“Right, yep, sorry on my way.”

She left, but not before shooting me a look that said: I’m not buying it.

Downstairs, I kept my head down, helping Mum lay out plates and avoiding Charlie’s suspicious glances. Will, meanwhile, strolled into the kitchen like he hadn’t just had his hands up my top ten minutes ago.

The worst part?

Charlie cornered me after dinner, glass of wine in hand, and said softly:

“You know, if this is what I think it is, you could do worse.”

I choked on my sip. “Sorry what?”

She smirked. “I’ve known Will my whole life. And I’ve never seen him look at anyone the way he looks at you.”

I opened my mouth.

Then closed it.

Then whispered, “Please don’t say anything.”

She smiled gently. “Your secret’s safe with me. For now.”

That night, I lay in bed, heart pounding as I replayed every second.

We had almost been caught.

And yet, I wasn’t afraid.

Not of being found out.

Not of what it meant.

I was more afraid of how deeply I already knew:

I was in trouble.

Real, heart-thudding, never-looking-back kind of trouble.

And the worst part?

I didn’t want to be saved.

It was just a walk.

That’s what we told everyone.

We disappeared after dinner a few people still milling about the terrace, others cleaning up, music still playing softly from someone’s speaker. But no one asked where we were going.

Maybe they assumed we needed fresh air. Or maybe they just didn’t notice how my hand brushed against his as we slipped quietly down the narrow path behind the vineyard.

The sun had just set, leaving the sky streaked in honeyed gold and soft lilac. The warm air clung to my skin, my cheeks flushed from wine and adrenaline.

Will hadn’t said a word since we left the house.

Until we reached the small stone lookout point that curved over the hills. The silence between us buzzed louder than any words could.

He turned to me then.

Eyes dark. Jaw tense.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about last night,” he said, voice barely a whisper. “Or earlier today. Or how close we just came to getting caught.”

I swallowed. “Neither have I.”

His hand brushed my cheek, thumb tracing just beneath my eye. “We should be more careful.”

“We should.”

He stepped closer. “We’re not going to be, are we?”

I shook my head. “Not even a little bit.”

His mouth was on mine before the last word left my lips.

This kiss was different.

It was hungry. Desperate. Like all the restraint we’d clung to had finally snapped. His hands cupped my face as he walked me back until I hit the stone ledge. I pulled him closer, fingers in his hair, his body pressed hard against mine as I tried to memorise the exact feeling of him the heat, the weight, the way he kissed like he was starving for me.

When we finally broke apart, breathing hard, he rested his forehead against mine.

“We should go back.”

I nodded, though I didn’t want to.

He let out a shaky laugh. “Because if I kiss you like that again, I’m not stopping.”

Back at the house, the night settled in. Lights dimmed. Laughter faded into yawns. Doors closed, one by one.

And still I couldn’t sleep.

Not with my skin still tingling. Not with the phantom of his hands on my waist.

I lay on my side, covers kicked off, wearing only an oversized T-shirt. The windows were cracked open, letting the warm night air swirl through the room.

Then I heard it.

The door creaked open with a softness that made my heart jolt.

“Y/n,” Will whispered, barely visible in the low light. “Are you awake?”

I turned, propping myself up. “What are you doing?”

“Couldn’t sleep.”

He didn’t wait for permission. He slipped inside, closing the door softly behind him, and crossed the room in seconds, sliding beneath the covers next to me like he’d done it a hundred times.

He smelled like mint and night air. Like trouble.

“You’re insane,” I whispered, giddy.

“Completely,” he murmured. “I blame you.”

He pulled me close, spooning me from behind, his arm wrapping around my waist. Then slowly, maddeningly his lips pressed against the back of my shoulder.

One kiss.

Then another.

And another, trailing down my spine.

I shuddered beneath his mouth.

He grinned into my skin. “Cold?”

“You know exactly what you’re doing.”

“I do.”

His hand slid along the curve of my hip, fingers skimming beneath the hem of my shirt. My breath caught as he kissed just below my shoulder blade, his teeth grazing lightly.

“Tell me to stop,” he said.

I turned my head to meet his eyes in the dark.

“Don’t you dare.”

Our mouths met again a different kind of kiss this time. Slow. Deep. Full of all the tension we hadn’t let ourselves act on until now.

His hand explored my skin with reverence, every touch igniting sparks beneath the surface. When he rolled me onto my back and settled between my legs, our bodies aligned in a way that made my heart pound so hard I could hear it.

“Still just a walk?” I whispered, breathless.

He chuckled against my throat. “Not even close.”

And though we both knew there was a risk of creaking floors, of curious siblings, of someone opening the wrong door it didn’t matter.

Because in that moment, with his lips on mine and his hands trailing lower, I stopped caring about rules. About history. About what anyone else would say.

I just wanted him.

His breath was warm against my collarbone as he hovered just above me, arms braced on either side of my body like he was holding himself back by a thread. Our eyes locked in the shadows.

“Seriously tell me if you want me to stop,” Will said again, voice husky, low.

“I don’t,” I whispered, fingers sliding into his hair, tugging gently.

That was all it took.

He kissed me again, deeper this time not rushed, but full of intent. Like he was committing it to memory, learning the map of my mouth, the way I sighed into him, how I arched just slightly to meet him when he pressed his body flush against mine.

The thin t-shirt I wore bunched at my hips as he ran his hands along my thighs, coaxing them open with a quiet groan. His palm smoothed over the soft skin, reverent, slow and I couldn’t help the breathy whimper that escaped me when his lips began trailing lower again.

From my neck to my collarbone… further down… stopping just above the hem of my shirt.

“Can I?” he murmured, fingers brushing along the edge, waiting.

I nodded.

He didn’t rush. He took his time peeling the shirt away, inch by inch, watching the way I responded to every new inch of skin he exposed.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, kissing the dip just below my ribs. “You have no idea what you do to me.”

My fingers tightened in his hair as his mouth found its way to the soft skin beneath my navel. Each kiss sent flutters through my stomach warmth pooling low, my thighs pressing around his shoulders as he settled between them with an ease that felt... natural. Like he’d always meant to be there.

Will looked up at me once more eyes burning before lowering his head.

The first touch of his mouth made my back lift off the bed in a shiver.

He was gentle, deliberate, and far too good at this for someone who claimed to be “out of practice.” His hands held my hips still as he worked slowly, tasting me like he had nowhere else to be, like he wanted to learn every inch of me this way.

I gasped his name more than once.

And when my fingers gripped the sheets and I cried out shaking, breathless, undone he didn’t stop right away. He pressed one last, possessive kiss to my thigh and made his way back up, mouth shiny, eyes dark with want.

“You okay?” he asked, lips brushing my jaw.

“I think I saw stars,” I said, still breathless, pulling him down for another kiss.

His body settled between mine again, bare chest warm against mine. He rutted gently into me, letting me feel just how much he wanted me how much he needed this too.

I reached for the waistband of his boxers.

“Your turn,” I whispered, smiling against his mouth.

He chuckled low and rough as he helped me ease them off. And then we were skin to skin. No space between us, no more hesitation.

He paused, forehead against mine.

“This changes everything,” he whispered.

“I know,” I said, curling my legs around his waist.

He kissed me once more, deep and slow, as he finally pressed into me inch by inch stealing the breath from my lungs. We moved in sync, bodies fitting together like we were made for this.

It was intense.

Overwhelming.

Nothing like anything I’d had before not because it was perfect or planned, but because it mattered. Every touch, every movement, every whispered word or broken breath it all felt like claiming, like surrender.

Like home.

Later, tangled in the sheets, the air sticky and warm, he traced patterns along my spine with lazy fingers. Neither of us spoke right away just let the quiet settle, soft and sacred.

Then he murmured, “There’s no going back now.”

I looked up at him through heavy lashes. “Would you want to?”

He smiled, brushing his thumb across my cheek.

“Not even if someone paid me.”

And just like that, I knew.

Whatever this was reckless, forbidden, stolen it was real.

And we weren’t walking away from it.

I woke before Will.

The sun hadn’t fully risen yet just a pale blush of orange light spilling over the shutters and dappling the room in soft gold. The summer air had cooled slightly overnight, and I was tangled in sheets that still smelled like us: like sweat, wine, saltwater, and something I couldn’t name but knew I’d never forget.

Will lay beside me, one arm flung over my waist, the other pillowing his head. His mouth was slightly open, hair tousled in a way that would’ve made me laugh if I hadn’t still been reeling from the feel of his mouth on me the night before.

My body ached in the best way.

I stretched, careful not to disturb him, and grabbed his white t-shirt from the edge of the bed, slipping it over my head. It fell to mid-thigh. I padded over to the window to peek out the vineyard below still quiet, the house slowly waking.

That’s when I heard it.

A footstep. Sharp. Coming straight down the hall.

My eyes widened.

“Shit Will,” I whispered, darting back to the bed, nudging his shoulder. “Will, someone’s coming”

He sat up fast, groggy and confused, squinting at me. “What?”

“I think it’s one of my brothers!”

That jolted him.

In a flash, he was out of bed, yanking on his boxers and grabbing his hoodie off the chair. I scrambled to adjust the sheets to make the bed look halfway untouched. Will dove for the en suite just as

Knock knock.

“Y/n, you awake?” Tom’s voice called.

I smoothed the shirt over my thighs, heart racing.

“Yeah” I croaked, cleared my throat. “Yeah, just getting up now.”

“You want to join for breakfast? Mum’s making crepes.”

“Sure! I’ll be down in five!”

A pause. Then: “You good? You sound out of breath.”

I laughed. Forced. “I was doing squats.”

…Squats?

Brilliant, Y/n.

Tom snorted. “Right. See you in a bit.”

The footsteps retreated.

I exhaled and slumped against the door. Will emerged from the bathroom a second later, hair a mess, lips twitching.

“Squats?”

“Shut up,” I whispered, laughing under my breath as I shoved him back toward the bed.

He collapsed onto it with a groan, dragging me with him.

“That was way too close,” I murmured, tucked into his chest.

“Do you know the stress that shot through my entire body?” he mumbled. “I thought for a second I was about to die naked in a house full of your family.”

“Very Romeo and Juliet.”

“Don’t say that. That ends badly.”

We both laughed, the tension melting. I rested my chin on his chest, tracing a circle just below his collarbone with my fingertip.

His hand found mine, stilling it.

“Hey.”

I looked up.

He was staring at me with that same intensity from the walk. The same softness, too.

“How long?” I asked, voice quieter now. “How long have you… felt this way?”

He was silent for a beat.

Then he blew out a breath. “I don’t know the exact moment. I wish I did it’d be easier if I could point at something and say that was it. But it’s been years. Honestly.”

I blinked, caught off guard.

“Years?”

He nodded. “I’ve always looked out for you. At first, yeah, it felt like this protective older-brother thing… but then it didn’t. Somewhere along the line, I stopped worrying about you like a sibling and started worrying about you like… someone I couldn’t stop thinking about.”

A lump formed in my throat.

“I tried to ignore it,” he admitted. “Told myself you deserved someone your age. Someone without… baggage. But then this summer seeing you, really seeing you, like this made me realise I don’t want to pretend anymore.”

I swallowed hard, my hand tightening over his.

“I always thought you saw me as a kid.”

He shook his head slowly. “Never. Not really. And definitely not now.”

The room fell quiet.

Then he added, voice low, “I don’t know what this turns into… or how we’ll even make it work with both our families right downstairs. But I know I’m in it. Completely.”

I leaned forward and kissed him.

Not rushed, not desperate. Just a promise.

“I’m in it too,” I whispered.

He smiled against my lips. “Even after the whole Romeo-and-Juliet panic attack?”

“Especially after.”

The beach was loud. Not with screaming children or crying toddlers thank God but with the very specific brand of chaos that came from two families who’d known each other for decades. Siblings bickering over who got the last cold drink, Ed blasting some terrible playlist from his portable speaker, and Tom and Kane attempting to start a competitive game of beach cricket with zero equipment and wildly different rule understandings.

Every time I looked at Will stretched out shirtless on a towel, sun-kissed skin glowing, sunglasses perched on his nose I had to pretend he wasn’t the person who’d kissed every inch of my skin just last night.

I bit into a strawberry a little harder than necessary.

“You good?” Charlie asked beside me, sunglasses pushed up into her hair as she passed a bottle of prosecco to Jo.

“Yep! Fine. Great,” I said, entirely too cheerfully.

Charlie narrowed her eyes. “You sound suspicious.”

“I sound like someone who’s trying not to die from heatstroke,” I said, peeling off my cover-up and tossing it behind me. “Gonna go dip my feet in.”

I didn’t wait for a reply, just padded barefoot across the warm sand. The sun was blinding. The sea was glittering. And he was out there, waist-deep in the water, tossing a tennis ball back and forth with Kane, Tom, and Ed like he didn’t have a care in the world.

He caught it one-handed and flashed a grin up at the beach.

God. I was so doomed.

Just behind the row of umbrellas, I paused catching sight of our mums, Lena and Caroline, sitting under the shade with their big sun hats and bigger opinions.

“I’m just saying,” my mum whispered. “He lingers around her. Always has.”

Caroline chuckled. “I noticed it years ago.”

“Maybe they think we haven’t.”

“Maybe they think they’re subtle.”

My heart nearly stopped. I crouched just slightly behind a cooler, barely breathing.

“They’d make a beautiful couple,” Lena said with a soft smile. “They’ve always understood each other.”

“Do you think they’re…?”

“I’d bet my last pound.”

I spun on my heel and sprinted toward the water.

Will barely had time to register what was happening before I hurled myself at him.

“Y/n!”

We both crashed under a wave with a splash that sent water flying in every direction. He surfaced with a splutter, hands grabbing my waist instinctively as I clung to him, half panicking, half laughing.

“Are you okay?” he asked, wide-eyed.

“Our mums,” I gasped, pushing back my wet hair. “They know. I just overheard them. They know something’s going on between us!”

His arms tightened around me.

“Shit,” he muttered. “What exactly did they say?”

“That we weren’t subtle. That they’d bet on us being together. And something about understanding each other.”

Will exhaled, saltwater dripping down his jaw.

“Well,” he said, a crooked smile tugging at his lips, “we do understand each other.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Will”

“What?” He shrugged, water swirling around us. “You tackled me into the sea. I’m allowed a moment.”

I realised suddenly how close we were his hands still on my hips, my arms looped around his neck, his chest flush against mine beneath the surface. To anyone onshore, this looked like… well, exactly what it was.

I pulled back slightly, glancing toward the group.

Charlie had her sunglasses off. Ed had stopped mid-argument. Kane was whispering something to Tom, who immediately elbowed him.

“Oh no,” I groaned. “They’re all watching.”

Will brushed a strand of wet hair behind my ear and leaned in to whisper, “Well… might as well make it worth their while.”

I shoved him, laughing, and he stumbled backward into another wave, dragging me with him.

Later that day, as we all dried off and started packing up, Jo sidled up to me with a smirk.

“You really think no one would notice?” she whispered.

“Notice what?”

“Don’t play innocent. We’ve been waiting for years. Honestly, we were more shocked it took you this long.”

I stared at her, jaw dropping.

“Welcome to the ‘Everyone Already Knew’ club,” she said, throwing her arm around my shoulder. “We’ve got t-shirts.”

Will caught my eye from across the beach as he shook the sand from a towel.

He winked.

And for the first time… I didn’t have to look away.

Dinner was always a loud affair in this house, but tonight felt like it had its own electric current running through the air like everyone was just waiting for the moment to explode.

The table was long and wooden, lined with mismatched chairs. Caroline had lit candles. My mum had opened the good rosé. The evening sun streamed in through the open patio doors, carrying in the warm scent of jasmine and grilled fish.

All our siblings were buzzing with thinly veiled excitement, but our dads Neil and Henry had only just joined after a long afternoon golfing at a nearby course.

Which meant… they’d missed the entire ocean-tackle drama.

And our siblings were dying to catch them up.

“So, Dad,” Kane started, his eyes gleaming with mischief as he poured himself another glass of wine, “did you enjoy your peaceful, drama-free round of golf?”

Dad looked up from his plate, fork mid-air. “I did actually. It was lovely. Quiet.”

“That’s funny,” Jo said sweetly, biting into a piece of bread. “Because while you were golfing, Y/n body-slammed Will into the sea.”

Neil’s eyebrows rose. “Did she now?”

I groaned, lowering my face into my hands. “It wasn’t a body slam”

“She ran at him like a rugby player,” Tom said solemnly.

“Full pelt,” Kane agreed.

“I was trying to be playful,” I muttered into my hands.

Tom was shaking with silent laughter. “And then they were just… floating there. Like a Nicholas Sparks film with slightly more panic.”

I groaned and buried my face in my hands.

Will cleared his throat. “It wasn’t… I mean, it wasn’t exactly what it looked like.”

Kane leaned forward, delighted. “Wasn’t it?”

I glanced sideways Will’s jaw was tight. The lightness he’d had in the water earlier was gone. He looked cornered, unsure.

“They’re dating,” Charlie said plainly. “We’re all pretending to be surprised, but we’re not.”

Neil nearly dropped his fork. “What?”

Will sat up straighter. “It’s… new.”

Dad raised his brows at me, that signature dad expression. “New, is it?”

“Yes,” I mumbled. “Sort of. I don’t know. Not really.”

Will winced.

“She’s flustered,” Ed said cheerfully. “That’s a good sign.”

“And you’ve been in love with her since she was seventeen,” Tom added bluntly.

Will turned sharply. “Okay, no”

“Eighteen,” Kane offered. “Let’s be fair.”

Now Will looked caught between defending himself and running for the ocean.

“Remember the bonfire in Devon?” Dad said suddenly. “That boy asked her to dance and Will practically squared up like he was about to deck him.”

Will groaned. “I was just being protective.”

“Oh, and the time she had that date with the guy from uni,” Mum added. “You told her you didn’t trust men under 25. You were twenty-five.”

The table roared.

Will ran a hand through his hair, finally cracking a sheepish smile. “You lot are relentless.”

I looked at him properly looked. His shoulders were still a little tense, but the lines around his eyes were soft now. A mix of embarrassment and something warmer. He met my gaze for a moment, and that look said it all:

This wasn’t the plan. But… it’s okay.

He reached under the table, found my hand, and laced our fingers together. I squeezed it.

“I just thought it’d be chaos if they knew,” he said quietly, only for me.

“It is chaos,” I whispered back, smiling.

“But you don’t look like you want to run.”

I shook my head. “Do you?”

“No.” He exhaled. “Not anymore.”

Just then, Neil leaned in. “Look, all I’m saying is if I’d known this might happen, I would’ve prepared a speech.”

“Oh God, please don’t,” I groaned.

“Speech!” Kane chanted. “Speech! Speech!”

The chant caught on like wildfire.

Will leaned close again, lips near my ear. “We’re going to be teased forever, aren’t we?”

“Yes,” I sighed.

“Worth it.”

I looked at him then the boy who used to steal my ice creams, the man who guarded my heart before I ever gave it to him, the one who used to warn me about stupid boys while clearly being one himself.

Now, he wasn’t hiding.

Now, he was holding my hand at a crowded table, letting our whole world know he wanted me.

His smile turned smug again but this time, it was earned. Soft. Certain.

“What?” I asked, raising a brow.

Will just tilted his head, looking way too pleased with himself. “Told you I’d be the one to ruin you for all other men.”

I gasped, cheeks blazing. “Will!”

“Too much?” he said, laughing.

“I hate you.”

“You love me.”

I did.

God help me, I did.

The house was buzzing with laughter and wine as we all started clearing away from the dinner table. Plates clinked, chairs scraped across the tile, and the summer night air drifted in through the open doors. I was still blushing from the last round of teasing, barely able to make eye contact with anyone.

Will’s hand brushed the small of my back as we headed down the hall, moving in perfect unison comfortable now, no longer needing to pretend. He said something low to Tom about the football game tomorrow, and I could hear the smirk in his voice when he said, “Right, I’m heading up for the night.”

That was all it took.

“With Y/n?” Charlie called from behind.

Jo gasped dramatically. “Oh my God, they’re doing it legally now!”

“Do we put a sock on the door?” Ed asked, mock whispering. “Or a tea towel? What’s the adult version of that?”

Kane leaned against the hallway wall like he was preparing a formal announcement. “Look, as one of her brothers, I do feel obligated to object...”

“You had your chance at dinner,” I interrupted, laughing.

Will kept walking, utterly unfazed. “You lot can all shut up. We’re grown adults.”

“You still blush like a teenager,” Tom called.

“Shut up, Tom!” I yelled back.

But Will only squeezed my hand tighter and led me upstairs.

The room was warm and quiet. A distant echo of the house’s laughter still hummed beneath us, but in here… it felt like the world had finally stilled.

I stood by the bed, brushing my hair out, and Will came up behind me arms slipping around my waist, chin resting on my shoulder. We just stood like that, looking at our reflection in the mirror.

“Today was…” he started, voice low.

“Insane?”

“Perfect.”

I turned slowly to face him. “You weren’t exactly loving the attention earlier.”

He gave me a crooked smile. “No, I wasn’t. But then you held my hand… and I just stopped caring what anyone thought.”

That stupid ache bloomed in my chest again the one that always came when he said things like that. Honest. Quiet. True.

“I’ve never had someone who felt like mine before,” he murmured, brushing my cheek. “Not really.”

“You’ve always been mine,” I whispered, heart stammering.

He looked at me like I was the only thing anchoring him to the planet. “I love you, you know.”

My breath hitched.

“I know I probably should’ve said it days ago, but I didn’t want to scare you off.”

“You didn’t,” I said, voice shaking now. “You could never scare me off.”

He kissed me then, gentle and steady no rush, no heat, just love.

“I love you too,” I whispered against his lips.

We didn’t rush that night.

No frantic sneaking. No stolen glances or silent goodbyes.

Just slow hands, soft laughter, a warm bed shared without guilt. He held me like I was something sacred, something he’d waited for his whole life. And I clung to him like I’d been holding my breath for years and could finally exhale.

At one point, he just looked at me, tangled in sheets and moonlight, and whispered, “You were worth every second of waiting.”

And I believed him.

We were still curled around each other when the knock came.

Then the door swung open.

“Hope you’re decent!” Kane called, eyes squinting dramatically. “Oh, wait of course you’re not.”

I let out an actual squeal, pulling the sheet up to my chin. Will didn’t even flinch just draped his arm over my waist like this was a bloody hotel.

“Kane, get out!”

“Look,” Tom said, peering in behind him. “I’m just saying, maybe next time you two go at it like bloody jackrabbits, you consider a bit of noise control. I could hear the headboard in my room.”

Kane nodded. “And I sleep with white noise. That’s saying something.”

Will finally sat up, hair rumpled, voice hoarse. “You two are actual nightmares.”

“I’ve never been more traumatised,” Ed added, joining the doorframe.

“You’re all liars,” I groaned. “We were quiet!”

“Mate,” Tom said, dead serious, “it sounded like someone was killing a fox and also rearranging furniture at the same time.”

Will couldn’t stop laughing now, shoulders shaking with the effort. I punched his arm. “Don’t encourage them!”

“I’m just proud of us, babe.”

I buried my face under the pillow.

Charlie shouted from down the hall, “Let them be! They’re in love!”

“Gross!” Kane yelled back.

But the door finally shut, and quiet returned.

Sort of.

Will looked over at me, eyes twinkling. “You regret any of this yet?”

I pulled the pillow down and smiled, cheeks pink. “Not for a second.”

He leaned over and kissed me soft, sleepy, so full of promise.

“Then let’s get up,” he said. “Because we’ve still got a whole family holiday of this energy.”

I groaned.

But really?

I wouldn’t have it any other way.

The sky was cotton candy and fire streaks of lavender and amber draping across the horizon like some old oil painting. Waves lapped gently against the shore as the sun dipped lower, casting a golden shimmer across the sea. The fire crackled, spitting occasional sparks into the warm dusk air, and the smell of toasted marshmallows and cheap rosé wrapped around us all like a blanket.

This was our last night in the South of France.

And it was chaos.

Ed had taken control of the Bluetooth speaker, forcing us all into an impromptu dance circle with a playlist that could only be described as “unhinged.” Think: ABBA, followed by Eminem, followed by the Mamma Mia! soundtrack again.

Kane and Tom were spinning each other around like drunk idiots, almost knocking over a deck chair. Charlie and Jo were filming everything while simultaneously heckling them. Will’s mum, Caroline, was trying to force everyone to eat more grilled halloumi, and my mum, was sipping wine and whispering something to her with a smirk that could only mean they were gossiping about us.

I turned, and of course, I caught them both watching me and Will like hawks.

“Oh God,” I muttered, nudging Will. “Our mums are doing that face again.”

“What face?” he asked innocently, though he was already smiling.

“You know the one. The ‘we’ve-known-since-you-were-ten’ face.”

Will just shrugged, far too smug. “Can you blame them? I mean… this,” he gestured between us, “has been written in the stars.”

“More like scribbled in biro with a pint of rosé in hand,” I muttered.

Just then, Kane shouted across the sand, “Oi! Lovebirds! Dance or be banished!”

“Banished where?” Will called back.

“To the land of boring couples who don't participate in family bonding!”

I groaned as Jo threw a blanket over my shoulders like a cape. “Come on, Princess of Sneaking-Around. Let’s see those moves.”

Eventually, Will took my hand and tugged me into the circle, pulling me into a ridiculous spin that made me squeal. The sand made everything ten times more difficult, which only made us laugh harder. My cheeks hurt. My ribs ached. My heart felt like it was glowing in my chest.

And then the music softened. Slower. Warmer. Something acoustic and romantic Ed’s doing, clearly. Everyone gradually slipped away to chairs and drinks and conversations, and somehow, we were left in the middle, swaying.

Will’s hands found my waist. Mine found the back of his neck.

And the noise melted away.

“Can I ask you something?” he said softly, eyes catching the last slant of sun.

“Mmm. Dangerous.”

“I’m serious.”

“Go on then.”

He paused, thumb brushing gently over my hipbone. “Will you come back to London with me?”

I blinked. “Wasn’t that already the plan? I live there too if you've forgotten”

“I mean… as my girlfriend,” he clarified, voice low. “Properly. No hiding. No sneaking into rooms or pretending we’re just family friends.”

I bit my lip, pretending to think. “Hmm… I don’t know. It’s been such a good fling.”

He narrowed his eyes playfully. “Y/n.”

I grinned. “I’m teasing. I thought that much was unspoken already.”

“Yeah, well.” He leaned in a little. “I want it spoken. Because I want everyone to know. I want to be able to kiss you when I want, not just when no one’s looking. I want the late-night chats and the lazy mornings and the horrible coffee you make. I want you.”

The world went quiet for a second.

And then I leaned up and kissed him slow and soft and smiling against his lips.

“I want all of that too,” I whispered. “You’ve got me.”

Will beamed. And in typical Poulter fashion, immediately shouted, “SHE’S MINE NOW, EVERYONE!”

The entire family erupted into laughter.

Tom tossed a marshmallow at him. “Bit possessive, don’t you think?”

“She’s been mine since she was sixteen and refused to speak to me for a week because I laughed at her One Direction phase,” Will called back.

“That was sacred!” I yelled.

Charlie added, “Can we get a group cheer for finally putting us out of our misery?”

Everyone raised their glasses.

“To Will and Y/n!”

“To shutting up finally!”

“To Will actually being nice to someone!”

“To future babies!” someone shouted.

“OH MY GOD, NO,” I cried, face burning.

But Will just smiled, wrapping his arm around me, tucking me under his chin like we were built to fit there. “Let them tease,” he murmured. “We’re the ones going home together.”

As the fire burned low and the stars came out, Will pulled me down onto a blanket beside him, arms wrapped tight around me, body warm against the cool night.

“I like us,” I whispered.

He kissed my temple. “I love us.”

And as our families laughed and bickered and danced around us, I couldn’t help but think…

It had always been him.

And finally, we were exactly where we were meant to be.

[memoirofasparklemuff1n]

I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER | PART 4

AN OBX SMAU & IRL

synopsis: the summer after graduating highschool was the dream. after years of tedious hours at school and of nonsensical drama, you are finally an adult, but most importantly? free. or so you thought. after a tragic incident the night of midsummers, the four of you decided to never, ever speak of it again. everything was going to be okay because only those present that night knew the truth, right?

pairing: exbf!jj x kook!reader; rafe x kook!reader

cw: guys, it’s a slasher story so gore & angst (troubled family relationships, violence, breakups, etc.) comes without saying. if you’re not comfortable with that then don’t read, i totally understand.

a/n: this one is right after the last part and i also need to chill with the panic attacks, i’m gonna kill this poor girl; not proofread because i'm lazy and tired af right now so bear with me. also, have no idea what the wc for this one is but i dont think it goes past 1k. hopefully. i also want to do a time skip next part cuz im bored of may 24 already. need to get the police investigation going and bodies to surface.

additionally, i need to figure out how to make a video (?) like a news channel giving the name of the body. we still don't know the identity BUT i think it is fairly obvious. so stay tuned.

saturday, may 24, 2025

after panicking for about half an hour and pacing around your room like a maniac, anger slowly began to run through your veins.

who the fuck does this guy think he is? some modern version of michael myers or something?

pathetic.

two could play at that game.

if there was something that angered you more than anything, it was fear. and you’d had enough of that for the past year. constantly looking over your shoulder in case the police appeared on campus to arrest you, the nightmares that haunted you at night, the sound of the crash repeating over and over like a broken record. but most of all, it was fear of seeing the person you loved the most end up locked away while the rest of you kept on going with your lives.

and now those fears were coming to life.

with a nod to yourself, you pulled out your phone.

you hear a knock on your front door. you ignore it but before you can continue your conversation with sarah, the knocking turns into banging.

you sigh in frustration, “coming!”

you ran down the stairs while putting your phone in your pocket, quickly looking around to see if your mother was home, but there were no signs of her whereabouts.

grabbing the door handle, you struggle a bit to pull it open as you groan in protest.

but all thoughts of the heavy door vanished as you faced your visitor.

your lips parted with a small gasp, your eyes wide, heavy drumming filling your ears.

fuck.

you were going to kill sarah, because standing in front of you was jj maybank.

he looked just as stunned as you, as if shocked to see you even though this was your house. you quickly schooled your features into one of indifference, but you knew he knew you were anything but.

your eyes scanned him from head to toe, noting how he carried the sun on his skin, darker and glowing, the way valleys formed down his arms as he tightened his fists. a lump rose in your throat when you saw that hanging from his neck was the shark tooth necklace you had given him for his birthday. the artist in you drank in every shadow, every glimmer of gold kissing his locks, how the red from his shirt brought out the sapphire undertones from his eyes.

eyes that were doing the same to you. eyes that were now brimming with sadness and unspoken conversations.

the buzz from your phone saved you from the mental breakdown you were about to have. your hands were shaking as you typed in your response to sarah.

after putting your phone away, you turned to jj once again.

“hey.”

“hey.”

you both chuckled awkwardly when you talked at the same time.

“how are you?” he asked.

“okay, i guess.” you shrugged, “mostly tired from the trip.”

he nodded as if that were the most revealing answer ever, “yeah, understandable.”

you pursed your lips, “yeah.”

you both stood there awkwardly before he lifted his hand to point at the truck behind him.

“your mother ordered some groceries from heyward, so i brought them in.”

you raised your eyebrows in surprise, “oh, i didn’t know you working for him.”

now it was his turn to shrug, “yeah, i mean, it’s a little recent and, um, i need the job so.”

he frowned as he shook his head when he looked down at his shoes.

“well, at least it’s with someone you know.” you put your hands in your back pockets to avoid reaching out for him.

he chuckled with a half-smile, “yeah, although it’s like having a second dad nagging at my ass.”

you scoffed, “pope must be grateful to not be his punching bag for once.”

that made him roll his eyes, “tell me about it.”

jj lifted his gaze back to yours before gesturing to the truck, “i’m gonna go get the bags now.”

you nodded and opened the door wider for him to pass when he came back. you pointed to the kitchen when he asked where he should leave the groceries, “just put them on the counter, i’ll put them away later.”

a few more bags were in the truck, so you made your way to get the rest when you tripped.

pain shot through your ankle, when you tried to get up. “shit.”

“y/n!” jj ran out of the house, his voice filled with panic. flashbacks of midsummers made your heart clench, and suddenly you were brought back to that night. blood, screams, the sound of a motorboat, the vow to keep quiet, flashed through your senses.

someone far away was calling your name, but all you felt was the ocean around you, dark and cold. you felt water filling your lungs, preventing you from crying for help, and suddenly you were so sure you were going to die. that you would end up doing company to the man in the ocean.

warmth enveloped you, rocking you back and forth, soothing circles on your back.

the familiar scent of salt and home brought you slowly back to your senses. the water was dissipating, your skin dry except for your cheeks, and it was no longer dark and cold.

the surface beneath you was soft, a bed. you looked around and realized you were in your room but not alone. hands cupped your face and blue eyes filled with worry met yours.

“it’s okay. you’re okay.” he pulled you against his chest, holding you tightly, months of missing you had nearly become his undoing. the only reason as to why he had survived this long without you was knowing that he lived in a world where you existed. that alone was enough for him; or so he tried to convince himself. loving you from afar was better than not loving you at all.

his heartbeat helped regulate yours, matching his breath with your own until you became one.

for the first time in a year, you felt calm and like you could fall asleep in peace. because even in dreams he still kept you awake.

once your emotions settled you pulled away and jj brushed your tears away before kissing your forehead. he stayed like that for a bit before finally pulling away, which was harder for him than he wanted to admit.

“better?” he asked.

you nod, “better. thanks.”

“anytime.” he let go of you completely and sat far enough to touch. you were keeping count of your breaths when jj stood up with a curious expression towards something behind you.

you looked around in confusion when your eyes settled on an envelope set on your pillow. your eyes widened in fear, all attempts to keep calm thrown out the window.

jj turned to you with a frown, “what is it?”

you didn’t answer and instead reached with a trembling hand to grab the envelope in your hand. you could feel his warm breath over your shoulder as you pulled a note out.

in all caps were the words: i know what you did last summer!

you threw the note on your bed as if it burned to the touch. your breath quickened, tuning out whatever jj was asking. he reached around you and took the note and read it aloud.

“what does this mean? and why are you so scared?” when you didn’t answer, he turned you to face him by the shoulders.

jj lowered himself to your level and locked eyes with you. “well?”

you took in a deep breath, “someone knows.”

he frowned, “what?”

“someone knows what we did last summer.” now that you had said the words aloud it became all more real and, god, did that scare the shit out of you.

“what do you mean someone knows? that’s impossible!” jj stepped away from you as if your skin stung him.

you snort, “clearly not.”

he started gesturing like he always did when he was anxious or angry, and right now it felt like it was both. “there’s no way anyone knows! it doesn’t make any sense. and why not just go to the police? why send you cryptic notes?”

“i don’t know, ok!” you exclaimed in frustration. “if i knew i wouldn’t be this freaked out.”

he started pacing around your room and it felt far too familiar, like the nights he came to try to convince you not to leave him for college and just run away with him.

“wait,” he stopped. “is this an attempt of yours to get us to confess?”

what????

“what?!” disbelief colored your tone. “are you fucking serious right now?! what the fuck is wrong with you?” you couldn’t believe it, the audacity of him to ask you that. after everything you had gone through, especially for him.

“hey, you weren’t particularly excited last summer to keep it quiet.” jj was now standing three feet away from you with his arms crossed, “so forgive me if i think you have something to do with this.”

you let out a scoff, “yeah, cuz it was hardly a fun memory, so forgive me for being freaked out. you’re honestly unbelievable. do you have any idea how hard this past year has been for me? the guilt is eating me away, yes. but i would never confess. if i were the only one involved then i would have, yes. but instead, i kept my fucking mouth shut to keep you,” you walked up to jj until your finger was pressed against his chest, “and sarah out of it. but particularly you. so don’t you dare to ever say shit like that to me again, do you understand?! because so god help me, i will go to the police, and i wouldn’t give two shits if we end up in prison for the rest of our lives.”

his jaw clenched, “is that a threat?”

you almost didn’t recognize your voice, “it’s a promise.”

jj stood there staring and when he saw you didn’t back out, he nodded. “ok, i’m sorry i doubted you.”

you sighed, “fine, but don’t you ever insinuate something like that again.”

“i won’t. i’m sorry. i–i just freaked out.”

you bit your lip, shaking your head. “water under the bridge.”

he pulled you into a hug, “tell me what you meant by someone knowing. have you gotten something like this before?”

you pulled away before taking out your phone, “yes, but i think we should text sarah first.”

“sarah?” he asked with a frown. “why?”

“because she’s also a part of this and she has a right to know.”

“fine, yeah.”

you went towards your bed and picked up the note, “take a picture and send it to her.”

jj walked up to you, “yeah, but unblock me first, don’t you think?”

you turned and looked up at him, “why?”

he laughed and scratched his neck, “because, um, it would be easier for us to talk to sarah, no?”

“like a group chat?” you raised an eyebrow.

he smiled, “exactly.”

you sighed reluctantly, “fine.” you took out your phone and unblocked his contact. “done.”

jj grinned, “cool, um, let me take a picture.”

you angled the note for him to take a picture, your phone vibrating with a notification.

“are you sure about this?” jj broke the silence.

you shook your head, “i don’t know. but it’s our best shot.”

his jaw clenched as he turned away from you, “i guess you’re right.”

you sigh, “ok. now or never. besides, it’s just a text not a physical confrontation.”

jj looked at you with raised eyebrows, “it’s never just a text with topper and you know it.”

you chuckle humorlessly, “he’s gonna crash out but whatever. if we don’t find out who this is we’re fucked.”

for the first time the possibility of being locked away for the rest of your lives settled onto the both of you.

you unlock your phone once again, opening the group chat that was once filled with hangout plans and inside jokes.

it was funny how fucked up things could get in a year.

you typed out your message and pressed send.

WHAT DO WE THINK? please be honest cuz this one feels like a filler episode. i was gonna keep going with their conversation with topper but OMG i got stumped & i can't seem to figure out how to go about it. also tomorrow is my last day here at the public deffender's office and i haven't finished half of my work to hand in. so here i am, writing what i am not supposed to LMFAO. i'll have to stay working all night because i am a masochist.

so might be MIA for a bit until i get everything done. imma crash out and kms fr.

AND AFTER THAT IT'S VACATION BABY (i will be in my bed for the rest of the summer)

next part will be better, i think (i keep saying that 😭 y'all are gonna get sick of me)

OH AND I BOUGHT AN ACOUSTIC GUITAR ON AMAZON LIKE FIVE MINUTES AGO AND I'M SO EXCITED

i'm spending money i don't have lol but it's also a cheap one ($104 😭😭😭 which is still expensive for me but not by guitar means AT ALL. i learned that after three days of research) i just hope it's good enough to learn in because i don't have any experience playing one. but i used to play violin and piano as a kid so i'm not entirely clueless in regards to music theory (?)

gonna live out my dream of being the shein version of gracie abrams in my room (i could never post myself singing which, tbh, i highly doubt is good but who cares?)

anywayyy, dedicated as always to my sparklemuffins: @countryclubwhore @onlyangel-444 @papercranesandinkstains @inthelibrarybtw @cokewithcameron @jaes-last-words @rafesbabygirlx @ethanthequeefqueen @7-deadly-cats-main @ewwwitsel @rockkybbys @luvvly-lydia @obxobsessedbitch2 @cherrielyme

if i didn't tag you and you asked me IM SORRY and let me know but i feel like i got everyone k bye <333

[joelswife3]

summary: joel was your dad’s best friend friend, so you ended up babysitting his daughter for him, then the outbreak happened, you lost touch with both of them. you thought you would never see them again, but you ended up in the Boston QZ, one day you were called to the fireflies base at the moment, then you see him and were told to go with him, tess and sarah to smuggle a kid you never saw before, outside of the QZ…

series warnings/tags: (they will be more detailed with chapter) age gap (joel is in his mid 50s, readers is in her early 30s) swearing, blood, violence, mentions and use of firearms/knifes, joel is a wee bit of a bitch to reader (for a little bit dw), SLOWWW ASS BURNNN, my grammar n punctuation are ass (yes its a warning), SMUT (in the future of this), yes sadly tess does die.., NO ACTUAL LORE (made up shit on their journey besides yk tess.), sarah lives (i love her so she does), joel is also a man of few words in this one yall, readers mom is mentioned but was barely in her life..

main chapter warnings: violence, blood, DEATH (big one guys..), use of firearms, ANGST

a/n: SORRY it took me so long to write this (i kinda didnt touch it for like 4 days) but ITS TIME to get to the good shit now 😝 i hope yall are enjoying reading this as much as i am writing it also i figured out my masterlist shit.. which is RIGHT HEREEE |MASTERLIST!!| also w.c: 2.0k its also pinned on my page so feel free to like it or put notifications on here for me so yk when i post a new part OR DONT up to you guys 🫶 thank you so much for reading!! love ya!!

Before

you finally got home from joels house, your dad was already asleep, so you tried to be as quiet as you could be.

you finally got your room, and dropped down on your bed. you sat on the edge of the bed, no matter how tired you were. your mind wouldnt stop moving a hundred miles a minute.

you decided to take a shower, just to stop thinking so much. the shower helped a bit, and you finally laid down to relax and sleep.

_______________

in the morning, you woke up to your dad yelling at the tv. you were pissed, you wanted a little bit more sleep, but now you're up.

you walked down the stairs, just to see your dad and joel yelling at some stupid football game.

“there she is,” your dad said, you rolled your eyes at him. joel just nodded at you, “you grumpy this mornin’, sweetheart?” your dad asked you, you came back from the kitchen with a cup of hot coffee in your hands.

“yeah, woke up to yall yelling at some dumb game..” you grumbled towards your dad. he laughed softly at your pissed state, “well, im sorry, sweetheart..”

“sure, you are “so sorry,” you threw up air quotes, “i hate sundays, just because of this”, you shoot a meanish look at both of the men on your couch.

“hey, now dont look at me like that,” he looked at you, “just because, you're a light sleeper, doesn't mean its my fault.”

you rolled your eyes extra hard that time, “yeah.., its not, but still, you could be a bit quieter.” you said to your dad, “yeah, sweet pea, we’ll try.” he said as he softly laughed.

_______________

you decided to get ready for the day, and go for a walk later that day. well tomorrow.. you have to face your fuckass ex, the one you regret dating, mainly because he hurt you.

your head was hurting from thinking about that fucker. you tried to finish your walk without thinking about him, then you got to your house, you see joel on his porch.

he was just sitting there, with the same scowl on his face. you guys made eye contact, you waved at him, he nodded lightly, but just enough for you to see.

“that was weird as shit” you thought, as you walked into your house. your dad was still sitting there in his normal spot. “hey, sweetheart.” your dad said as you were walking through the front door of your house.

you closed the door softly, and turned around to face your dad. “hi dad, what ya watching..?” you asked him. he shifted slightly in his spot, “just some stupid show, it came on after the game.” he said.

“oh.., okay then, you mind if i join you?” you asked, he turned his face towards you. “‘course not, sweetheart,” you sat down on the couch, and curled your legs behind you. he turned his face back to the tv, and said “i love when you wanna spend time with me, sweet pea…”

________________

it was one of those boring, slow days at school that day. you got home, walked straight to your room.

you were so tired from it, mainly because of your ex. he tried to make your life a living hell. it didnt work. he just wasted his time trying.

“gosh,” you sighed, you got up to change. the thing was you had nothing to do that day. once you had changed, you walked down to your living room, just to lay around till your father got home.

you laid down on the couch, stretched out your legs onto the plushy cushions. you only had to wait until 9:00 for your dad to be home.

you did anything and everything to pass the time. once 9 hit, you were laid out again, drifting off into a deep sleep. your dad opened the door extra loudly, you got up so quickly, you felt your vision blur for a moment.

he looked around, his face slightly lit up to the sight of his kid waiting for him. “i guess, it was a pretty tiring day for the both of us, huh?” your dad said to you.

“yeah.., tell me ‘bout it,” you said back to him, “there's leftovers on the stove for you, dad.” you said as you nodded your head toward the kitchen.

“why, thank you, sweetheart.” he said, as he smiled at you. you got up to give him a quick hug, before you went to prepare him a plate of food you cooked earlier that night.

________________

you passed out by 11 that night, but you're woken up by some green light outside your window. you tried to fall asleep again, but gave up after you couldnt.

you swung your legs over the edge of your bed, as you did so, you rubbed the sleep away from your eyes. you finally felt enough energy come to your body, so you stood up from your bed.

you walked down stairs, to see no sign of your dad. you had no clue what was going on. you looked out the window and see nothing, you were confused. you called out for your dad, “daddd…!” you said kinda loudly, you did it over and over again.

you checked every room in the house, as you looked for him. when you did find him, he looked panicked, like how he used to when your mother came home drunk off her ass again.

“whats wrong, dad?” you asked him, kinda panicked. he ignored your question, and ran to his room. you ran after him, “c’mon, dad.. you're scaring me.” you told him, he sighed quietly, “look, babygirl.. imma need you to pack a bag as quickly as possible.” his voice was panicked, but you could tell he tried to keep it from showing. “why do i need to pack a bag?” you asked him, you were so confused, “just pack a bag..,” he said kinda loud, “pack clothes, medicine, food, water, and whatever else you can carry.” he said as he was packing quickly. you ran to your room and packed as much clothes, food, and whatever else he said into a bag you found your closet, you started to feel really panicky.

as soon as you were done, your dad called out for you. you ran to him, “yeah?” you asked, “can you help me with this shit?!” he yelled, you know he was panicking, because he gets loud. you helped him as fast as you could, you grabbed your pack and your dad had his. you both ran to his busted up truck, but thats when you see joel, sarah, and tommy. you looked at them panicking, joel was yelling something at one of yalls neighbors. you heard him telling sarah, kinda loudly, to get in his truck. sarah looked at you, you smiled weakly, mouthed the words “i love you, i promise to find you.” she looked away, she was trying not to cry.

you both hopped in his truck, you saw joel and his family speed off into the night. you started demanding your dad for answers, “why the hell are we going,” you started, “and why?” your dad looked between you and the road, “theres some kind of disease,” he started to say, he tried to think of words to explain what and why. “people are goin’ crazy ‘cause of it,” he started once again, “it's spreading fast,” he sped up, “we just need to get out of here, okay sweetheart?” he said, “trust me..”

there was so many people running around, blood of others everywhere, so many dead bodies. you saw people eating each other, you felt sick to your stomach, you just wanted out of there, and to be taken somewhere safe. your dad looked at everything and you, he only cared about one thing right then and there. to get his daughter to a safe place. theres was more people coming out of everywhere, he went for the 7, that exit never has traffic, it was packed with people trying to get out. you tried to calm yourself down, it barely worked. as soon as you looked behind you, you seen a plane flying straight towards you guys, you yelled, “dad, speed up! right now!” he listened to you. you were still looking behind you, the plane crashed, you and your dad yelled before all you saw, was black.

your vision was blurry for a moment, you blinked to clear your eyesight. the first thing you see was a distorted person eating on another, you quickly looked away, you looked at your dad, shaking him to wake him up, “dad! wake up! please..” he opened his eyes, you exhaled a breath you didnt know you were holding. your dad kicked a window, he got out first, then helped you out of the busted up ass car. you could see that your dad had a hard time standing, “hey, everything alright?” you asked, he looked at his leg, “no, my leg fuckin’ hurts” you ran over to him, and wrapped his arm around your shoulders. you ran as quickly as you could, well, with your dads hurt leg, it wasn't fast.

you get to an alleyway, you slowed down to give your father a break from running. thats when you seen it, you stopped for, maybe, a second, then it looked straight at you. it was eating on someone when you stopped, your dad opened his eyes to see it looking at you. he took your hand as fast as he could, and ran quicker then before. it was chasing after you, you ran into a old diner, the one you went to for your birthday, it was tripping and falling over everything in its way. you quickly got out of that place, and ran down a path, and made a sharp turn towards an open field.

you heard shots, then you heard them dying. you quickly turned your head the direction of the shots, your dad was still looking behind himself, “dad.., look.” he looked the way you were and saw a flashlight on you guys. “look! my leg is hurt, and im trying to get my kid-” “shut up, and back up” said the man, “im just trying to get my kid somewhere safe for the night.” your dad said to him, you were so scared by this point, you never had a gun pointed at you. your dad stepped in front of you, making sure the gun was on him. the man was talking into his walkie talkie, “but, sir, theres a teenage girl with him..,” he said to whomever he was talking to, “okay, sorry sir.” he said before pointing the gun back at your dad, “c’mon man, we arent sick-” your dad said, backing up and pushing you back aswell, “no, no dont do it, please dont do it,” your dad said to the man that walked towards you guys, your dad was all the way in front of you now, you cant even see what the guy was doing.

thats when you heard shots, you ducked down behind your dad, he was falling onto you. you fell back as your dad was falling onto top of you. you put your hands infront of you, as you tried to push him forward, so his weight didnt crush you. he rolled off your hands, and his body was to the side of you now. the man walked up to you, and pointed his gun to you, “please dont..” you said weakly, before he could shoot, some person, that appeared out of nowhere, shot him. you looked around for your dad, then you heard it, his grunts, you quickly got up and ran to him, he was shot.. you pushed your hand onto the bullet wound, “please dad, dont die on me,” you cried, “you're all i have, please papa..,” you pulled his body into your arms, hands still on his wound, “c’mon papa, keep your eyes open for me..” you said, “no, no dad!..” you cried out loudly, you pulled his body close to yours, and cried loudly.

you looked at his dead body, then back at his face, his eyes were dead. this was the moment you realized you were alone for good..