#am i watching this shit solely for her? yes yes i am | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

strbymacaroon · 7 months

Text

Silent Love: Ch. 7 - "A Lovely Night."

⊹ ׂׂૢ་༘࿐ Chapter Seven

Previous Chapter: "Forgiveness?"

Chapter One: New Roommate(s)

Master-List: Here!

.・゜゜・｡･ﾟﾟ･ ╰┈➤ Sukuna x Reader

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Sypnosis:

When moving out of your dorm and leaving your eccentric roommate goes to shit, you're offered by one of her friends to move in with him... for free! That is, if you don't mind living with two completely opposite college boys.

However, life isn't that easy, and there's a hot asshole around the corner to piss you off. Especially when he's always up late at night when you're studying, purposely trying to get on your nerves in the most perverse way possible.

You hate him.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Genre:

College/Modern World AU. Multiple parts.

Shameless Smut, Thin Walls, Mildly Dubious Consent, Roommates Fluff and Crack, Slice of Life, Kinda Slow Burn, Oral Sex Vaginal Sex, Slight Age Difference, Degradation Fake/Pretend Relationship, Dirty Talk, Dirty Thoughts, Enemies to Lovers, Spit Kink, Angst, Hurt/Comfort.

⁎̩͙ ⁑̩͙̩͙ ⁂̩̩͙͙ Word Count: 34,014

THIS IS PART TWO

HERE'S PART ONE!

You wince, the flash light of the phone blinding you for a second, before looking to the side. “Oh my god, you’re going to get us caught!” You whisper shout, panic evident on your face. “This is totally how people get murdered in movies.”

“Sure.”

You narrow your eyes at Sukuna, eyes trained on the camera. “I can’t believe you’re into this kinda’ things. You’re so gross.”

“Don’t lie to me. You know you love this shit, too.” Sukuna groans when you run your tongue over the head of his cock, his eyes flutter. “Fuck, just like that baby, just fuckin’ like that.”

Sukuna lowers his free hand to cup your chin, running his thumb softly over your pouty bottom lip. “Open.” He hums, sliding his thumb into your soft and warm mouth. He can feel your tongue slide around his digit, softly sucking on it. Sukuna softly groans, before he presses down, forcing your mouth open.

He slowly laughs, “Ahh.” He cooed at you, watching as you stick out his tongue and mimic his noises. Fuck, you’re so fucking hot, everything about you is perfect. Even your subtle red lip gloss smeared on his thumb.

You look into the camera, your pupils shrinking from the light as you lean down to place the head of his cock on your tongue. The gloss of your lipgloss transferring to his skin, you place a kiss on it, smiling at him. You bat your eyelashes at him, “Am I doing good?”

Sukuna cups your cheek, running his thumb over your skin. “Doin’ such a good job, baby, keep sukin’ pretty girl.” He slowly trails his hand to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer.

His words have your mind malfunctioning, they make you change. The logical and self respecting slipping into something more giving, and wanting. You just want to make him feel good. You want to hear him say more, you want to hear him… groan in pleasure. You;re horny over the thought of seeing Sukuna crumble in pleasure you’re giving him.

You thickly swallow, nodding your head meekly. Tilting your head to the side and kissing the underside of his head, your tongue sliding down to the base of his cock. Practically making out with his dick before grabbing it with your hands.

You wrap your fingers around the head, moving it up and down his girth. You can’t help but notice that the tips of your fingers don’t even touch from how thick he is, your nails are the only thing that connect your hands together. You look up to see your moving up and down the head of his cock. Sukuna notices, and smiles to himself, his much larger hand wrapping around yours, moving it up and down his sensitive head. “Fuck yes, love this shit. Juust like that.”

Sukuna doesn’t know why, but seeing you jerk him off through his camera with the fresh set of nails he bought you, along with glinting jewelry adorning your body, has his chest swelling with pride. It’s almost like you’re wearing something that shows you’re his. Solely his. Fuck, you’re his.

“C’mon baby, take it in your mouth.” He whispers, catching the way your sparkly eye moves up and looks at him with a puppy-like expression. “You can do it, right? You can do that for me?” His expression isn’t like anything you’ve seen before, red and… desperate. “Right? Please, please do that for me.”

You feel your cunt throb, your underwear sticking to your pussy. You nod, almost drunk on his words. “Mhm, I’ll do that, I want to do that… for you.” You wonder if this is how being on drugs feels like, intoxicating and longing.

You close your eyes and wrap your lips around the head, slowly pushing yourself forward and taking him deeper into your mouth. He’s so thick, long, and throbbing in your mouth. Is it even possible to take him all the way?

You feel embarrassed struggling to take him in your mouth, you’ve been wanting to do this for so long, and now you can’t even do it correctly. What if Sukuna doesn’t like it?

You whimper, pushing a strand of hair behind your ear while swirling your tongue around his girth. You hear Sukuna groan above you, softly whispering, “Yeah, fuck, just like that.” His hand goes above your head, “Go deeper.” Your mouth is so warm, so hot, and inviting, as if it had been made to take his dick inside of it.

You pull off with a soft ‘pop!’ accompanying your actions. You glance at the camera, before looking at Sukuna, “I can’t, s’it too big, ‘Kuna.” You mumble, resting both your hands on his thighs, softly playing with the fabric of his pants.

You can see him smiling at you, “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.” He ends the video and places his phone down. “Here, you have to relax your throat for me.” He watches as you take him inside your mouth again, fluttering your eyes closed. “Mhm, there you go.”

You thickly swallow, gripping onto his thighs. You can feel him going deeper into you, a soft moan vibrating against his dick. Sukuna groans, tilting his head back ever so slightly, “Yeah, fu-fuck, just like that.” He shakily exhales, “Let me all the way inside you.”

You love what his words do to you, making you mush your thighs together to receive some much needed friction on your clit. Pleading for attention, but your mind is already occupied with trying to make Sukuna feel good, much rather than yourself. You try to keep your composure, not let your lashes flutter or your eyes roll to the back of your head. You’re doing this for Sukuna, you want to make Sukuna feel good.

But, god, is it really hard to focus on that.

Especially when you’re thinking about how it would feel inside your cunt. Making you cry, and sob with pleasure, your eyebrows furrowed and mind empty with nothing but his dick. Pleasure swirling your body, cum spilling out of your pussy before he would fuck it back into you. Body twitching when he made you cum, again, and again.

You wonder if he can make you squirt again, making your thighs shake as you claw at his sheet. Drunk on the feeling of his cock ramming inside you and hitting that perfect little spot deep in you. Stupid and needy just for him. Would Sukuna like that? Knowing that you need him more than you’ve ever needed anyone before?

You thickly swallow, swirling your tongue around the head. Closing your eyes, and pressing your tongue to the underside of his cock. Sukuna softly groans, his dick twitching in your mouth. “Fuck yeah.” His hand moves to your hair, gathering it all together and holding it behind your head. “There you go, that should help you baby.”

Sukuna’s hips twitch forward with restraint every once and a while. He hates the pace you're going. A painful slow and tantalizing pace that makes him want to grab your head, and fuck your mouth like a toy. Fuck the slow shit, he likes the messy mind blinding pleasure. Where you don’t care about how you look, you don’t care for the mess you’re making, you’re just desperate to feel good.

But, he doesn’t. He wants to let you do your thing, let you get used to his massive size. It’s not going to be long until he finally uses his throat in a way he’s been dying to. That though alone has him groaning with pleasure. The idea of pushing your head up and down his cock, or holding your hair out of your face while he fucks your throat without any other goal, but to come deep inside of you.

“C’mon, you can go deeper.” Sukuna groans, “Wanna be inside your throat, was to feel you squeeze my dick.” He pushes his hips close to your mouth, adoring the way you slightly gag on him, “You can do that f’me, let me deep inside that cute little throat of yours.”

How could you say no to that? With the way he’s cooing gently at you, easing you slowly down his cock. His soft groans echo in your ears, because it feels so good. You want more, you want to hear more, you want more of Sukuna. You inhaled before closing your eyes, and pushing yourself closer to his abdomen. Stretching your mouth open to accommodate his size.

Why does his dick have to be so big? How is that fair for you? Especially knowing that this is your first time?

He grits his teeth, his grip on your hair tightening a small bit, “Fuck. You’re so good for me, taking me like this.” He could feel the back of your throat hit the head of his cock, and he tenses. Choking on a breath, as his hips jutting forward into your mouth. The worst part? You haven’t even taken all of him in your mouth. Fuck, it feels like he’s loosing his mind right now.

You close your eyes and push your head forward, feeling his dick fill your throat. A loud whine echoing through your room, your hands moving up and down what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. Before you slowly move your head back, remove your mouth from his cock with a small ‘pop!’ Running your hand up and down his cock, rubbing the tip with the palm of your hand in circles. A deep groan leaving his lips. You sniff, taking a moment to try and catch your breath as you look at Sukuna.

You pass him a playful smile, definitely not suited for the situation as you lick the corner of your mouth, your pink tongue peaking out for a second. “Am I doing good?” Your voice is a bit hoarse, and it shocks you significantly more than it does Sukuna.

Sukuna laughs, nodding his head, “You know the answer to that.”

You clear your throat, pressing your lips together. You still have a bit of lip gloss left on your lips, “Even though it’s my first time?” Your hand is still moving up and down his dick, eyes trained on watching the obscene sight. It’s so nasty, and hot. You tilt your head to the side, pressing the flat of your tongue to the underside of his cock, taking a long lick up his dick.

Sukuna clenches his jaw, eyes fluttering as a soft moan leaves him. You couldn’t help, but giggle. “I don’t believe you.” Sukuna runs his fingers through your bangs, “Have you been lying to me?” His chest rises and falls with each deep breath that leaves him.

You rest your head on his thigh, eyes back on his cock. “‘Kuna, I’d never lie to you.” You open your lips again, sticking out your tongue and batting your eyelashes at Sukuna. Slowly pressing your tongue against him, taking him back into your mouth and moaning softly. The noise vibrates down his cock, making his thigh jump.

Sukuna’s nose wrinkles, “Shit, your tongue feels–feels amazing.” He sharply inhales, rolling his hips forward. Trying to get deeper in your mouth. You can’t help but let your eyes flutter, moaning with each stroke he takes into your mouth. Taking a good amount of him inside your mouth.

Your hands tighten around his thighs, eyebrows furrowing with discomfort. It feels good, but it’s a new foreign feeling, having something bully its way deep and deeper into your throat.

“Fuck, you’re doing so well Y/n.” He groans, cocking his head back, his throat on full display for you while his eyes flutter, rolling to the back of his head. “Fuh–fuck, don’t stop. Don’t stop…” Sukuna rocked his hips forward, pushing his cock deeper into your throat. Cutting off your air.

Your eyes watered, pussy fluttering around nothing as you slowly moved back and forth. Feeling him inside in ways that should be disgusting, yet here you were enjoying it. You take a deep breath through your nose and hold it, relaxing your throat and pushing yourself forward. You can feel him slide all the way down your throat, the head bulging within you. Your sticky lips touch his abdomen, leaving a red mark of your lips on Sukuna’s skin.

Sukuna gasps, caught between pleasure and shock. “Sh-shit, are you…” His eyes roll into the back of his head when he feels your tongue squirm against his length, his hand moving to rest right behind your head and applying pressure. He doesn’t want you to move, he wants you here for a few more moments. His hips circling in your mouth.

Sukuna forces himself to look down, and he almost comes undone on the spot. Your glassy eyes looking at him with blown pupils, puppy-like and wanting to please. He can see an evident bulge in your throat, physically showing him how deep inside your throat he is. You try to swallow, which makes your throat constrict around him. A particular groan leaving him that made you clamp your legs together.

Your long lashes flutter, eyes ever so slightly rolling back. Fuck, this is amazing.

You don’t think you’re ever going to be able to admit it out loud to Sukuna, but you’re growing to love doing this. Maybe it’s how it makes you feel, or it’s entirely because of Sukuna, but it feels liberating. It feels good to give him pleasure, and for some reason it’s making you feel good, too.

Your panties are absolutely drenched.

You want him, you want to feel more, you want your tongue all over his bare skin, you’re dying to feel him against you. But, you also… really want to kiss him. You’re eager to please, desperate to kiss him. You want to feel his tongue against yours again, making yourself drunk off his taste and words so you can’t think of the stresses of college or life. Taste his flavor, scent, feeling, everything.

You just want to be good for him, you want him to say you’re doing good for him. You want to hear… praise. Because, deep down—the reason you’re so easy to be good, is because you're a good girl. Someone who loves to please, someone who loves the attention of a man. Someone who loves the attention of Sukuna. Maybe you're obsessed with him, but that’s okay. You bat your eyelashes at Sukuna, the eye contact between the two of you has you melting. Because, you know he’s equally obsessed with you.

Sukuna’s been dying to see you like this, on your knees looking up at him with your glossy eyes and sucking his cock. Legs clamped together, because of how much you were enjoying this. “To–Touch yourself.” He forces out, his lips parting in quick gasp, “Make yourself feel good, rub that sloppy pussy for me.” His eyes are half lidded, “I just know she’s all wet f’me.”

It’s so gross, so depraved, but you’re loving this. Feeling his dick deep in your throat. Knowing that the only thing Sukuna is looking at, craving for, is you. Watching with gratification as you struggle to take his thick dick in your tiny throat. The small moans, and whimpers that would vibrate against his length when you struggle to breathe. That isn’t enough, he needs more. He wants to see more of the bulge of your neck from his size, grab your neck to feel it beneath his palm.

You swallow around him for a final time, moving back and sucking in much needed air. You blink a few times, your eyes lazily opening and closing. “I think I like doing this.” You whisper, subtly suck on your bottom lip.

“This feels so good.”

Sukuna’s voice is deep when he says, “Yeah?” His hand runs down your head, cupping your cheek in a loving way. “You like sucking my dick?” He almost mocks you as he says, “Makes your pretty pussy feel good?” You hum out a response, nodding your head as you run your tongue over his lip, circling your pink muscles around it.

Watching the way Sukuna jolts forward for a moment, his hands meeting your hair with a scratchy groan. “Fu–fuck, I can’t wait anymore.” He slicks his hair back with his hand, running his fingers through his unruly strands. “I can’t–fuckin��do this anymore.”

You blink a few times, “Huh?”

Both his hands rest on your cheeks, rubbing them soothingly. It’s sweet, uncharacteristically sweet of Sukuna, it’s a bit unnerving. “Just relax your throat for me, lovely, I’m going to fuck it.” His hands move to your hair, pulling your face close to his dick. “Just open up, and say–”

“Ahh.” You say without thought, lashes fluttering closed.

Sukuna laughs darkly above you, “Yeah, just like that, such a good girl for me.” The tip of his dick taps against your tongue, before sliding into your mouth. Another soft groan, “You don’t have to do anything, you don’t even have to think. Just take this cock, baby.”

Sukuna’s hand went to the top of your head, grabbing your hair with much more force than before, and pulling you down his dick. Your eyes instantly widen, the tip hitting the back of your throat, before going deep inside your throat. You gag, your throat tightening around his cock making Sukuna jolt forward.

Sukuna thickly swallows, head lollying back without restraint from the sensation. His eyes meeting the top of his car roof, jolting nerves zapping all over his body. His roughness is a bit of a shock, but you… like it. You naturally look up, dolly eyes looking up to see Sukuna, unfortunately his head is tilted back.

His hips thrust his dick in and out of you, and your side your fingers to run the outside of your panties. Already damp with your slick as he uses your mouth like a toy. Fingers rubbing slow circles into your throbbing clit, already too sensitive to be touched so much.

Sukuna deeply exhales, lowering his head to look at you again. But, he’s quickly met with your glassy eyes, your hand down your panties and rubbing circles into your clit. He smirks, running his tongue over his teeth, “Fuck, yeah. You look so fuckin’ sexy.” Seeing you like this is everything, and more. He watches as fat tears slide down your cheeks, and it makes his head spin.

Sukuna really did want to be nice, he really, really did. But, how can he? Especially with the adorable way you're taking his cock down your throat, which tears running down your face. He narrows his eyes on you, it feels like too much, “Awh, is it too much for you?” He rolls his hips into you, eyes fluttering closed as he groans. “You can’t take my fat cock?”

You look up at Sukuna, his hands let go of your head for a moment, and take this chance to flutter your eyelashes at him while you move back and forth. Your glossy lips dragging over his length. You just want him to come, you just want to feel it slide down your throat.

“Shit, I’m going to–” Sukuna forces his eyes closed, gripping your head again. “Keep doin’ that, don’t stop, don’t you–please, don’t fucking stop, I’m…” You push your mouth down his cock again, taking him all the way in your mouth by yourself. Your nose softly pressing against his abdomen, tickling him, but cutting off any air from reaching your lungs. His abdomen tightens, before your name slips his lips in a whimper. “Please.”

It has you done for.

You softly gag, tightening around his cock as your eyelashes flutter closed. Tears falling down your stained cheeks, as you desperately try not to choke. You whimper, your fingers working fast circles into your clit as you finally come undone with Sukuna. Eyes rolling into the back of your head from the sensation of him coming down your throat.

You stay there for a moment, letting Sukuna ride out his high before his muscles relax. You finally push yourself off with a moan, tongue softly running over his head for the last time. Siliva decorating your plump lips, with a few strands breaking away from his dick.

You rest your head on his thigh, mushing your lips together before softly pulling them apart with a soft,‘pop!’ Your head feels fuzzy, almost as if you just came off an intense roller coaster, or if you were close to passing out. Eyes cloudy and still glossy, while your thighs are sticky and wet. Your clit is a bit overstimulated.

And still, after all of that, you want Sukuna more than anything. You push yourself off the ground, which is happily accepted by Sukuna’s opening arms for you into his lap. You naturally go in to kiss him, but hesitate. He probably wouldn’t want to do that right after–

“Why’d you hesitate.” Sukuna’s looking at you, his pupils are still blown wide.

You blink, “Do… what?”

“Don’t wanna’ kiss me?” He asks, almost as if he were offended.

You nod, “Of course I do.” You press a quick kiss to his lips, “I just thought you wouldn’t want to.”

Sukuna pinches your nose, “You get in your head too often.” Even with your nose pinched, you're still leaning in, pressing your lips against him. The kiss is messy, no care as your tongues are rolling against each other. Your already glossy lips are growing even more slippery and messy.

You pull away with a whimper, hips rolling into his. “Sukuna…” You whine, gripping his shirt between your digits. “I want you to fuck me.” You whimper, wiggling your hips into him, “Please, I want you to fuck me, I want it, I want you.” You babbling, your mind still clearly on a high from your pleasure.

Sukuna’s eyes are still half lidded, his hands landing on your lips. “You want me to fuck you?” He whispers, “You want me to make you feel good?” He kisses you again, and this kiss has more structure, like he’s trying to ground you.

You nod eagerly, “I need it.” Your lips are touching his as you whisper, “Please.” The words are so pretty on your tongue, longing and needy, “Please fuck me, ‘Kuna, I need you more than anything.”

Sukuna lets you kiss him, but forces himself to turn away, “I’m not fucking you…” He watches as your eyes pleadingly look at him, “Not… here.”

You tilt your eyes at him, “Why not?”

Sukuna furrows his eyes, “I’m not taking your virginity in the backseat of my car in a random parking lot.” He smiles, almost as if he were telling you common sense, “But, with the way you’re…” He looks down, watching as you roll your lips into his with desperation, “Fuck.” He shakes his head, you’re genuinely going to be the death of him. “You’re making it hard for me to say no.”

“Then, don’t say no.”

“Yes–no.” Sukuna kisses your forehead, but it’s clear he’s trying to distract himself, because he doesn’t come back down to look at your face. “I’m not fucking you here.”

You sigh, leaning your head back and resting it on the driver’s seat headrest, “You're killing me, ‘Kuna, I feel like I’m going to die.” You place your hand on your chest, “Actually, that’s a lie, you definitely killed me.”

“You’re goin’ to have to wait until we get home.” Sukuna feels his phone buzz, but before he can grab it, you lay down on the seat and pick it up yourself. Resting on your stomach while your thighs rest on his. Sukuna takes this chance to finally tuck himself back into his pants, grabbing your ankle. “You’re getting comfortable with my phone.”

“Yeah.” You kick your foot back and forth, your heels discarded somewhere in his car. Long gone, “It’s the blonde girl, again.”

“What did she say?”

You flip the screen to him, showing the text. “She’s asking why you left her on read.” You pull your skirt down your ass, feeling a bit exposed in his position. “What do you want me to say?”

Sukuna isn’t looking at the screen anymore, just letting his hands play with the frills of your dress, “Anything you want.” He shrugs, “I don’t care.” He sighs before pushing your legs off of him, exiting the car to go in the driver's seat.

You take this time to just hop over the center console, taking a seat in the passenger side while still looking at his phone, unsure of how to answer. Until a fun idea pops into your head. You hear Sukuna fixing his belt, but you quickly place your hand over his, “Wait, I have an idea.”

Sukuna tilts his head to the side, “Does this include me pulling out my dick again.” He has a smirk on his face.

You look to the side, pretending to think, “No.” You open up the photo application on messages, “But, it does include you and me in a picture.” You lean close to Sukuna, and kiss his cheek. “Just go along with it, and smile.”

“A picture? Then let me–”

“No.” You angle the phone up, putting a peace sign up with a kind smile. Your lips smeared with a bit of red, and your messy frizzy hair caught in the photo. Sukuna wasn’t entirely ready for the photo, his hair equally as messy and lips a bit shiny from your lip gloss. You snap the picture and send it to the girl. “There, hopefully that will scare her off.”

“Doubt it.” Sukuna watches as you connect his phone to his car, searching up a song and playing it. “If anything, you can just block her again.”

“That’s true.” You place the phone in the cup holder, your eyebrows furrow ever so slightly. “Watch, she’s going to pull the–finals are next week, please come study with me!” You scoff, clearly fuming over this girl. Sukuna thinks it’s cute, as much as it is amusing. “Whatever. It’s fine, I’ll block her later.” You click your seatbelt on, listening to the engine of his car roaring to life. “Besides, she makes me feel bad, I don’t want to feel pity right now.”

Sure, pity. Sukuna looks over his shoulder, pulling out of the parking spot, “Yeah?” He places his hand atop your head, “Forget about her.” And, if you can’t, Sukuna knows a sure fire way to do so. Actually, he knows a way to remove all thoughts from your head. “She’s getting you worked up.”

You pout slightly, silently agreeing with him and you look outside the window. You whisper something Sukuna can’t hear. He looks at you for a brief second, “What?” He looks back at the road.

You feel your face burning with embarrassment, your lashes fluttering ever so slightly. “Did I… do good?” You’re leaning on the arm rest, head turned away from him, while your mouth is covered by the palm of your hand. You shake your head, “You know what? Nevermind, I’m being dumb.”

Sukuna chuckles, sliding his hand to rest on the back of your neck. Rubbing it slightly, “Are you asking me to praise you?” He can feel you shiver underneath his touch, even leaning into it.

You huff, “No.”

Sukuna grabs your neck, pulling you closer to him. “Be honest.” He can see your throat bob slowly, your lashes fluttering as you look at him with those glossy eyes he’s growing to adore more than anything. His eyebrows raise slightly, “Hm?”

You deeply sigh, slowly turning to look at him with an embarrassed expression. “...Yes.” You hate that he’s messing with you, but… at the same time, you really like it. Are you broken? Enjoying the way Sukuna toys with you? Making you come out with deep secrets only you’re supposed to know about? Is that why you mess with him so much? Because, deep down, you secretly love the way he messes with you.

Sukuna briefly kisses your head, removing his hand and placing it back on the wheel. “Yes, baby, you did great.” Sukuna notices how you try to hide a giddy smile on your lips.

Yeah, you love the way Sukuna is.

—

Sukuna parks the car in the garage, much like any other day and you’re quick to leave the car. Clearly eager and excited to be close to Sukuna, you’re inches away from opening the door when you pause. Your eyes widen, “Wait, what if Yuuji is home? That means I’m not going to be able to–”

Your back is snuggling held between the door and Sukuna’s body, his lips on your and almost eating you up. You giggle in the kiss, trying to speak, but due to Sukuna’s sloppiness, you can’t get too much out. “Sukuna–wait!” You feel your lashes flutter shut, your foot sliding against your ankle as he kisses you.

“Wait?” Sukuna asks, his hand moving to your waist and arching your back into him.”I’ve been waiting for this for–fuck, so fuckin’ long.” He sounds out of breath, dark, and deeper. Hands lowering to your ass and grabbing onto the fat of it.

You laugh, cupping his face and flinching when he presses you harder against the door. It makes you gasp, giving Sukuna the opportunity to slide his tongue in your mouth. Sliding his hand underneath the back of your knee and hooking it around his waist.

You moan when his bulge presses against your covered pussy, “You feel me?” He whispers, grabbing your hand and pulling it between the two of you, resting it on his bulge. He smiles, sharp teeth flashing as you, “That’s going to be inside you.” He uses his free hand to slide his palm over your lower stomach, applying a bit of pressure, “All of it deep inside of you.” His voice is so raspy, it feels like a drug. Sukuna feels like a drug, you honestly don’t know how your knee didn’t give in on the spot.

You sniff, looking away, “Stop saying things like that…” You whisper, butterflies swarming your stomach. It feels so good. “You’re making me feel—“

“Shh.” Sukuna perks up, resting his head on the door. “Shit, I think someone is home.”

You kiss his neck, sliding your tongue over his skin. He tastes sweet, “Who cares?” You softly suck on his skin, blooming a sport hue of red on his pale skin. “Just try not to be so loud, and we won’t get caught.”

Sukuna shakes his head, but he’s clearly amused by your antics. “You're right.” He kisses you a final time, “Put your hands above your head, and turn around.”

You blink a few times, cheekily smiling, “Why should I?”

“I want to see how quiet you can be.” His eyes dip down, looking at where the two of you are connecting. His jeans, and your short dress covering what he wants to see. “Do it for me? Please.”

Suddenly, ‘please,’ is the magic word.

You bite your lower lip, “Shouldn’t we go to your room?”

“No.” Sukuna grabs your hips and ushers you around, “Don’t want to get caught, right?” Your backside pressed snuggly against his front, his head dipping down to skin the tip of your ear. “There you go, just do as I say.” He lowers his hands to your waist, pulling at them so your ass is pressed right against his erection.

You thickly swallow, nodding your head softly. “Okay.” You can feel your eyelashes fluttering, naturally moving your hips in circles. You slowly extend your hands over your head, keeping them together.

“Just like that..” Sukuna mumbles behind you, sliding his hand to grab both your wrists. “Keep moving–fuck, keep moving against me.” He uses his free hand to pick up your skirt, pushing it up your plush ass. “Fuck–fuck, you make me feel…” He drops his head atop of yours, “You make me feel so good. Shit.”

You relax into the door, shoulder slouching into your back as you just feel Sukuna rut against you. This is so gross, you think to yourself, this isn’t supposed to be hot, you mentally scold, but it is.

You love when Sukuna whispers dirty nothings in your ears, licking his tongue up any sensitive skin he can taste, pulling and shoving you into any position he wants. Doing whatever he wants to your body, purely because it makes him feel good.

You rub your ass harder on his hard erection, “Please.” You whisper, tilting your head back, looking at Sukuna with glossy eyes. “Please, kiss me.” You should be scared, the way he’s looming over you right now, making you feel like a tiny puppy. But, you’re not, you like it, you like that he’s bigger than you.

Maybe you’re crazy.

Sukuna smirks, laughing slightly, “What are you askin’ for?” He responds, eyes bouncing back to your ass rubbing against him, and your eyes begging for his. “Want another kiss?” He coos, clearly finding amusement, and sexiness in your plea.

You nod your head, “Mhm!”

“Awh, of course you do.” He grips your neck, twisting it up more to kiss you, sliding his tongue lewdly against yours. Not caring if the kiss is any form of a kiss, just wanting to satisfy someone who’s growing to be insatiable.

You giggle, almost drunkenly, into his lips. Muttering, “I like you.” You close your eyes, kissing him again before adding another, “I like you so much, it drives me insane.” Your fingers move in his grasp, “You drive me crazy, ‘Kuna.”

Sukuna feels his throat bob, pressing you hard between the door and his body. “Yeah?” You bite your lower lip, a bit constricted as you flutter your lashes at him innocently. “You drive me fuckin’ insane, too. Can’t go an hour without wanting to hold, or just think about you.”

You rest your cheek on the door, “I know.”

“You’re cocky.” You giggle in response, but pause, an idea flashing in your head. He flinches when your hands move underneath his shirt, your cold fingertips touching his bare skin. “Shit!”

Your eyes widen, while Sukuna closes his eyes with a slow sigh. It’s silent, the two of you waiting at the door. Waiting for some form of response to Sukuna’s unexpected shout. You giggle, continuing to run your fingers over his skin. “I bet if someone was home, they would’ve heard that.”

You yelp when someone knocks on the door, pushing yourself away from Sukuna and standing feets away from him. Your face absolutely flushed, your heart beating out of your chest as you look at Sukuna. Only to see his fist resting on the door, his face turned away from you, and his shoulders bouncing up and down in a silent laugh.

You narrow your eyes, fixing your dress, “You’re such an asshole.” You scold, “Fuck, I thought it was your brother, or something.” Sukuna doesn’t respond, he’s still laughing at you. You softly groan, “You know what, go jack off or something, I’m going to my room.” You pull open the door, stepping inside.

You’re not mad, just… embarrassed.

“Oh, c’mon, I’m just messin’ with you doll, don’t be like that.” Sukuna grabs your hand, trying to pull you back into him, but you’re not budging. “Here, I can get on my knees and make it up to you, is that what you want, hm?”

You scoff, “No.” You continue to pull away from him, “You can–I don’t know, do whatever, I’m mad at you.” You whisper, ‘Asshole,’ underneath your breath.

Sukuna opens his door, pulling you inside his room, “Fine, be like that.” He closes the door behind him, locking it. “I’ll just fuck the attitude outta’ you.” He coos, “Let’s see how mad you’re going to be when you’re squirting over my dick, yeah?”

You blink a few times, a cheeky smile slowly splitting your lips. “Oh.” Sukuna has always had such a way with words. “And, what if I leave, what if I don’t want that?” You cross your arms over your chest.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow at you, moving to his bed and sitting on it. “Really? I’m sure that’s why you were begging me to fuck you in my car.” He watches as you turn your head away, “That’s also why you almost sucked me off while I was drivin–”

“Oh my god, shut up!” You move to Sukuna’s side, pressing your palm over his mouth. “I totally get it now, you never shut up.”

“I thought you were leaving.” Sukuna’s voice tickles your palm, “I thought you would never lie to me?” He pulls you on his lap, wrapping his arms around you.

“I never lied, I am mad at you.” Your hand drops, and Sukuna moves forward to slide his tongue over the shell of your ear. A quick shiver shooting down your spine as the hot muscle moves slowly.

“Good.” Sukuna grabs the end of your dress, bunching up the fabric and whispering, “Raise your hands for me.” You’re quick to do as he says, which is returned with simple praises. Your dress being pulled over your head, dropping to the floor.

You're quick to reach for his shirt, pulling it over his head. You just want to feel his skin, you want to feel his warmth against you without anything blocking you. Sukuna smirks to himself, leaning back with you on his lap while he watches as you fumble with his belt, struggling a small bit due to your nails.

Sukuna finally takes it off himself with one hand, tossing it to the side with a metallic thud. He pulls you by your waist, placing you on your back. “Spread your legs.” He’s towering over you, his pants already on the ground.

You slide your legs open, revealing a wet patch already on your panties, Sukuna laughs, “Wet f’me already? I haven’t even touched you.” He leans down, forearm resting near your head while he kisses your neck. “You think you can handle this thick co–” Sukuna seems to hesitate.

You immediately feel your heart drop, did you do something wrong? You thickly swallow, “‘Kuna?” You wrap your arms around his shoulder, “Is something wrong?” You tilt your head to the side.

“No.” His answer is quick. “Just… thinkin’ about, uh…” He lifts his head up, “You want to do this, right?” He’s looking in your eyes, the black of his pupils almost makes it impossible to see his natural red eye color.

You nod, “Yeah–yes, I want this.” You smile softly, kissing his lips quickly, “Is something wrong?” He wants this, clearly, so why is he hesitating?

Sukuna shakes his head, “Just relax.” He whispers, sliding his fingers underneath your underneath, dipping them in your slick and swirling them around your throbbing clit. “Just let me make you feel good.”

Your lips part, nodding your head as you flutter your lashes shut. Feels good. You jump when you feel them slide back into you, two fingers thick and heavy slowly pushing in and out of you. You bite your lower lip, your legs sliding down into the mattress of Sukuna’s bed with each slow thrust.

You can feel yourself melting into his sheets, but furrow your brows slightly when he slides a third finger into you. Sukuna groans, feeling how tight you are around his fingers, practically sucking him back in everytime he pulls back.

Fuck, you’re so tight, it’s actually driving him insane. Sukuna just wants to feel you wrapped around his cock, sucking him in with every thrust.

You arch when his fingers scissor into you, stretching you open. Sukuna is right next to your ear, sliding his tongue around it while whispering, “Gotta’ prep you, don’t want it to hurt when I shove my cock in you, right?” He laughs, “You just want to feel good, feel full, have nothin’ on your mind but how I stretch you out so good.”

You whimper, “Stop teasing…” You groan, grabbing his wrist, “Just put it…” You thickly swallow, batting your long lashes at him when he finally looks at you again. “Please, I want you inside–wanna feel you deep inside of me, ‘Kuna.” You’re looking at him with your perfectly glossy eyes, and who is he to deny you.

“Think you’re ready?” Sukuna asks with a cocky smile, pulling your panties down your hips. “You think you can finally take my cock? You think it’ll fit in your pussy?” He watches as you eagerly nod, “What? What do you want, you need to tell me?”

You can’t, what does he want you to say? “Uhm…” You thickly swallow, diverting your eyes to the side, “I want you…” You can’t, you really can’t say it, it’s so embarrassing. “I want you inside.” You can feel butterflies in your stomach, but… they’re different.

You’re nervous.

You’re really nervous.

You feel your bottom lip quiver for a moment, and Sukuna pauses, “I’m nervous.” Shit, you didn’t mean to say out loud, even if you did whisper it. You can feel yourself mentally scolding yourself. You’ve been wanting this for so long, and now you’re getting cold feet.

Seriously? What is wrong with you?

That makes you feel worse.

“I can tell.” Sukuna passes you a half smile, and it feels domestic to see. “I expected that.”

“Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” Sukuna pinches your nose, “It’s just me.” He tilts his head to the side, “Are you saying you’re scared of me.”

You blink a few times, before smiling a small bit, “I mean, a little.” You giggle when Sukuna glares at you, not before cupping his face with your hands. “I’m nervous… but, I feel good. I think… I feel less nervous since it’s with, uhm, you.” You look to the side, “That’s kind of corny, but… you get it, right? I’m not crazy.”

Sukuna’s eyes soften, he ever so slightly nods his head, “You’re crazy.” He murmurs, “But, I understand you.”

You laugh, “I’m glad.” You feel better. “Can we… continue?”

“Yeah, of course baby.” Sukuna tilts his head to the side, and his eyes glint with something sinister.

You arch your back slightly, the spark in your belly igniting into a small flame. “Please—I want you inside, I wanna feel you.” You flutter your lashes at him.

“Yeah? Does my baby want the tip? Wanna feel me slide inside?” He chuckles, “I’ll give you that, baby, won’t make you suffer for too long.” Sukuna is practically shaking with pleasure, wanting to bottom out in one motion. Pound into you and make your pretty little eyes roll into the back of your head, your legs shake from all the pleasure. But, he knows that’ll hurt you, and that’s the last thing he wants right now. He wants to make you feel good.

Sukuna wants to see you utterly melt under his touch, grabbing his sheets while tears of pleasure slide down your hot cheeks. Feel your hot and gummy insides around his thick cock, as he shoves his fingers into your mouth. Watch your tongue swirl around them while you suck and bite. He wants to tease you about how good it feels.

Sukuna wants you to make him feel good, too.

Sukuna taps the tip of his dick on your clit, watching as you jump with each short amount of pressure. It’s cute, really cute. “Hold onto me, hold onto me.” He whispers, placing his tip at your entrance, already wet and slick for him. “You’re going to feel a stretch, but it’ll feel fuckin’ amazing after.”

You nod, turning your head down to look at where the two of you connect, and it’s obscene. His flushed tip pressing against your wet cunt, “Is it going to fit?” It’s a unsure whisper, butterflies of nervousness bubbling in your stomach again.

Sukuna kisses behind your ear, “We’re going to make it fit.” He murmurs, pushing the tip into you. And the stretch burns, it makes you whimper as Sukuna splits you open on his monster cock. You can hear Sukuna grunt next to you, his brows furrowed in concentration as he pushes into you. “Just breathe, try to relax.”

You nod, lashes fluttering shut while your eyebrows furrow. “Okay…” You hum, sucking on your bottom lip, “It feels really weird.” You mumble, your waterline growing small pearls of tears.

“I know.” Sukuna coos at you, and he feels you slowly relax around him. “There you go, doing so good for me.” He loudly groans, dropping his head into your neck and stiling when his tip is completely in you. Twitching and sensitive from your tight walls gripping onto him, you feel like heaven. His hair tickles your chin, and despite how good Sukuna sounds groaning, you can’t ignore the uncomfortable stretch–almost painful–that is occurring between your legs.

You hug Sukuna tighter, “Hurts.” You mumble into his hair, but Sukuna is quick to rub slow circles into your clit with his thumb, making the bundle of nerves dance with electricity. It feels good when he touches you, and it feels–you gaps, feeling Sukuna twitch inside of you, his hips ever so slightly bucking into you.

You thickly swallow… it feels good when he… moves.

You roll your hips forward slightly, and you hear Sukuna laugh against you. “You finally feelin’ good?” He mumbles, looking up, “You want me to make you feel better now, doll?”

“Please.” You murmur, cupping his face and tugging him closer to you, “Please fuck me ‘Kuna, please make me feel good.”

Sukuna feels every thread of patience snap inside of him.

His hands move to the back of your knees and pull them up to your chest, “Fuck–I can’t wait anymore, I need you, I fuckin’ need you.” Your name leaves his lips, and suddenly he pushes into you. Deep and quick, letting your tight pussy mold to his thick cock. Sukuna loudly moans when his cock is finally inside of you, his eyes shutting as his jaw ever so slightly drops.

You feel so fucking good, you’re making him feel so fucking good, he can’t even… Sukuna pulls his hips back, your pussy already sucking onto him before puuushing them back into your pussy. His head drops into your neck with pleasure as your head gets thrown back in a loud moan.

It feels so good, you feel so full and… it feels almost overwhelming. Sukuna all the way inside of you, it feels like he’s in your guts, or in your throat. Splitting you open and forcing every thought to the way Sukuna moves his cock in and out of you. It feels like your head is spinning, and with the way Sukuna is groaning with each slow–tantalizing slow–thrust, it feels like you might pass out from the pleasure, and pressure.

Sukuna presses your thighs deeper into your chest with his weight, and you can feel your teeth clench from how deep inside you he is. It’s almost overwhelming, and with the way he’s lowering his hand to rub circles into your clit, it feels like you might actually die.

You jolt when you feel something coil in your stomach, deep and intense. Your eyes snap open, meeting with Sukuna’s red one, trained on your expression. Your moans grow louder, more insist of what’s to come.

You watch as something snaps inside of him, practically smiling ear to ear as he leans down, “You goin’ come?” He whispers, “Is my dick making you feel good, makin’ you want to finally let go and come all of it?”

You whimper, your shaky hands moving to grab his face, “Fuh–fuck, ‘Kuna, I feel like I’m gonna–I’m going to–” “Don’t.”

Sukuna looks high of your expression, “Don’t you fuckin’ dare, hold it.” He asserts, watching as your eyes become glossy, a small whimper leaving your mouth as your bottom lip quivers. “Awh, there you go baby, you can follow what I say like a good girl, I know.”

“S’it too much, I can’t do it–I really want to..” You pull his face closer to yours, “Please, ‘Kuna, please, please, please. I wanna feel good, let me…”

Sukuna’s eyes flutter from your begging, you’re so hot. And, when he opens his eyes again, you think–you really do–he’s going to let you, especially with the caring way he’s looking at you. But, Sukuna smiles and whispers, “No.”

You hiccup, tears falling down your cheeks, “You’re so mean.” You murmur, “You’re so mean to me.”

“Yeah?” He looks down, watching the way his cock splits you open. “I can be meaner.” He groans, leaning back and grabbing your hip with one hand, “Lift your hips for me.” He rasps, eyes glued to the place where the two of you connect.

You whimper, following his directions. Spreading your legs and allowing him to look at the lewd actions. You can’t help but feel some form of relief when stretching your legs as well, having the stretched and pushed into feel good but–

‘Ring! Ring!’

You jump at the noise, hand pressing against your mouth. Instantly, your mind goes to Yuuji, fuck is he home? You didn’t get to check if he was, and the idea of him hearing you fucking his older brother makes you want to sink into the depths of the earth, and never come back out.

Sukuna seems to be equally as startled, his shoulders jumping and his hips instantly stilling. But, unlike you, Sukuna knows it’s not his brother. He knows it’s a phone ringing. He watches as the realization dawns on you, albeit, not as quickly as his.

You look to the side, “Uh…” You know that’s not your phone ringing, since your ringtone is a very bubbly and cute one from Animal Crossing. Bubblegum, by K.K. Slider to be specific, so you turn to Sukuna and asks, “Do you want to answer that?”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “Fuck no.” He leans back down, nose touching yours, “That just… startled me.”

“I also thought it was Yuuji.” You giggle, “It’s fine, just let it ring out.” You hold his face, the ringing fading into the background of nothingness. “Just keep fucking me, I’m still so–”

‘Ring! Ring!’

You feel your eye twitch. “What the hell?!” You furrow your eyebrows, practically growling at the phone. “Are you setting me up right now?” You accuse, “Is this your silent way of saying you don’t want to be fuckin’ me right now?”

Sukuna closes his eyes and softly sighs, “Sometimes, I don’t know how you think of these things.” And, as much as Sukuna wants to reach down and throw his phone at the wall for interrupting the two of you, the idea of it being Yuuji calling for him stops him from doing that. “Let me check if it’s Yuu.” Sukuna mumbles.

You laugh, looking to the side with a smug expression, “Good to see where your properties land.” You snicker at his glare, watching as he finishes his phone from his pants. “A good older brother you are.”

Sukuna rolls his eyes, “Yeah, whatever.” He looks at the caller ID, only to see it’s an unsaved number. A telemarketer? An… insist one? “Not a saved number.” He places it on the counter, “Maybe this is God’s way of telling me you’re trouble.”

“Probably.” You extend your arms, waiting for Sukuna to join you again, “Who cares, I just want to feel good.” You whine, clearly growing inpatient. “Just c’mere, I miss you already.”

Sukuna nods, looping his arms behind your back and pulling you close to his body. Watching with awe as he slides back into you, your lips parting in a silent gasp. “So pretty.” He murmurs, kissing your neck with soft pants.

You feel so good around him, sucking him into your tight pussy. Your gummy inside molding around his cock, perfectly shaping into it. Sukuna can feel his thrust grow frantic, wanting to increase the pleasure he’s receiving. You make him feel so good, he absolutely lo–

‘Ring! Ring!’

If Sukuna had any form of pliancy in his body, it just broke from a single ring of his phone. He snatches it from the dresser, sliding his finger to answer the call and barking out, “The fuck do you want?!” He’s fuming, and as much as you shouldn’t…

You find it a bit funny, just a little. Poor boy is getting frustrated. Poor thing, you can't help but think. He’s been waiting so long for this–you have, too–and now it’s getting interrupted by a very insistent scammer. Yet, the small smile on your lips absolutely falls when you recognize the voice on the other line.

Blonde bitch.

Sukuna scowls, “Leave me the fuck alone, I swear to–”

“Ah–ah!” You moan, rubbing your clit with your fingers. “Shit, you’re making me feel so good, ‘Kuna, please don’t stop, please don’t…” You whine, tilting your head to the side with half-lidded eyes.

“The fuck was that?” She barks, but her silence is quickly followed by, “Who the fuck is that?” A sick prideful feeling fills your chest, swallowing you whole with something liberating.

God, if anything in this world could cure your depression, it would be this. A satisfied smirk splits your lips, and Sukuna expression matches your own. He slides his hips back and forth, watching as your brows furrow with ecstasy.

“You already know.” Sukuna groans into the phone, biting the inside of his cheek with a smile. “Don’t be fuckin’ dumb.” He isn’t teasing her, he’s genuinely being an asshole.

“No, I fucking don’t know who that is, why don’t you fucking tell me.” She spits back, venom laced in her voice.

Sukuna places the phone on your stomach, watching as goosebumps litter your skin from the cold of his phone. “You hear that?” Sukuna mocks, rocking his hips in, and out of you. The sound of him pounding into you is loud from where you are, you can’ even imagine what it must sound like where his phone is located. Sukuna practically laughs, a sadistic look in his eyes. “That’s the sound of my girl wrapped around my cock.”

Hearing him say that is… everything. The idea of Sukuna calling you that to someone who so bluntly wants him, is so willing to give up anything, so entangled in his web… is prideful. It shouldn’t, you really shouldn’t feel this way, but you do.

Sukuna wants you. You're his. He’s yours.

Sukuna ends the call, quickly silencing his phone before tossing it to the side. He rolls his eyes, “Fuck, can’t fucking stand her.” He looks a bit pissed and from the way he’s fucking into you, he’s starting to take the frustration out on getting you to finish.

You laugh, nodding your head, “I told you–you were… fuck, fuck, mean.” You shakily exhale, “But, I like that about–shit–about you, make me feel good.” You mumble, “Love it.”

Sukuna can wholeheartedly agree with that, he equally adores your quick tongue and rude comments. It sends a euphoric rush through his brain, but he won’t ever tell you that. Although, he will tell you, “You don’t even know the start of it.”

Your toes curl when Sukuna places his palm on your lower stomach, pressing the tip of his cock right up against your g-spot from the pressure. You yelp, your head thrown back while your back arches frantically.

“Wait–don’t do…” You choke on a moan, eyes rolling into the back of your head, “I can’t—” You bring your hands to his shoulders, clawing at them to try and maintain your composure, but it isn’t working.

“I know.” Sukuna grabs your cheeks, pulling your face to his. “Fuckin’ come for me, let it all go.”

You feel him hammer into you, grinding his hips so the tip of his cock presses snuggly against your g-spot. Instantly, your vision goes white, your lips parting in a silent moan as your legs shake around his waist. It feels like you’re melting, your insides swirling together and finally releasing into a explose euphoric mess.

Even when you're done, panting and vision a bit blurry, Sukuna doesn’t stop moving. Not even when hot tears are sliding down your face because, ‘It’s just too much,’ or ‘Too sensitive,’ as Sukuna would mock back at you.

You place your hand on his face, trying to push him away, only for him to smile into your palm. His lips part to let his tongue slide over your palm, slowly splitting your middle and ring finger open. Allowing you to watch the wet muscle move between your fingers, along with the smug expression on his face.

It feels so good, but so much with each thrust, you just can't, you can’t–your eyes roll into the back of your head, your thighs shaking. Sukuna pulls away, “Do you really want me to stop?” He teases, slowly his pace down, and for how painfully good it feels, him slowing down makes you crave the intensity again. “Can the baby really not handle it, huh? Can she really not handle a big dick inside of her?”

Sukuna watches with glee as your expression of pleasure turns into pure bliss. Your eyes glaze over while a delirious smile splits your glossy lips, legs moving to wrap around his waist. “Please do-don’t stop, you make me feel so–so good ‘Kuna, don’t ever want to stop.”

Sukuna can’t say no to that.

“Atta’ girl.” He pats your cheek endearingly, “You can give me another, right? You can do that for me?” He grabs you by your wait, tugging you closer to his dick as if you weighed nothing. “You can gush on my cock again, let that pretty head of yours go dumb from my dick?”

You nod, your smile still present. “Mhm!” You want that more than anything.

“Yeah.” Sukua licks his teeth with a smile, “Fuck, you’re so good for me.” He laughs, eyes narrowing on your body. “Turn around, I’m not fuckin’ done with you yet.” Before you can even move, Sukuna is man-handling your body exactly where he wants you to go.

You’re on your stomach, his hands pulling your waist up and forcing you into a deep arch. You place your hands on his head board, your head almost touching it. Your eyes roll into the back of your head and Sukuna splits you open again, slowly pushing his thick head into your sensitive hole. Twitching, and full of Sukuna’s dick.

You thickly swallow, humming in content when you feel the front of Sukuna’s thighs press to the back of yours. His dick sheathed deep inside of you, twitching and drooling fat globs of pre-cum. He’s so warm, and thick, it feels so perfect to be like this.

You pull your lips between your teeth, groaning with each slow and long thrust Sukuna pushes into you. Forcing your hands to claw at his sheets with a squeal, his hands pushing your back into a deep arch. You can feel him in your tummy, bulging and pressing right against that perfect spongy spot deep inside of you.

“Yeah, just like that.” Sukuna groans behind you, sliding his hands to your ass and pulling you apart. Letting his eyes watch as he slides his cock in and out of you, “Just open up for me, let me make that sweet pussy feel good.”

You melt at his words, shivering while your knees keep your ass in the air. “Can’t–can’t do this…” You bite his sheets, drool seeping front your pouty lips. “Fe–feels so good.”

Sukuna laughs, trying to hold back his moan. But, he almost loses his composure when you mutter, “Does it feel–do you feel good, too? ‘Kuna?” You look at him over your shoulder, eyes glossy and beautiful, “Am I making you–fuck–am I making you feel good?”

Sukuna feels a part of his sanity chip. “You don’t even fuckin’ know how good you make me feel.” Sukuna seethes, his hand grabbing the back of your neck and shoving you deeper into his sheets. He almost comes when he hears you moan from the harsh actions, “Fuck, you’re going to make me cum with the way you’re grippin’ my dick.”

You groan, digging your knees into the sheets. “Shit–shit, I…” You part your lips open, Sukuna fucking you from the behind with more power. Each thrust deep and hard into your twitching pussy.

Sukuna tilts his head back, placing his weight into his hand and hips, “Holy fuckin’ shit, I think I’m going to fuckin..” His voice grows hard, almost aggressive, his hips following.

You can feel the top of your head hitting his head board, your shoulder blades tensing into themselves. Your head growing a bit fuzzy, your vision growing similar to TV static. It feels so good, so so fucking good.

You can feel Sukuna twitch inside of you, his cock head drooling hot drops of pre-cum inside of you. He’s close, you can feel it, you can hear it. The subtle way his voice is rising in pitch, the recurrence and mantra of it. How his hips seem to stumble when you clench around him.

You want him to come with you, you want to feel him do it inside of you. Hot and warm, filling you up. You giggle into his sheet, “C’mon–Sukuna, please come with–with me ‘Kuna.” You whisper, heart practically glowing in your eyes. “Let me feel it inside of me, please, please.” You can feel yourself growing addicted to this, you never want to stop. Never ever.

Sukuna thickly swallows, sliding his hand up your head into your hair. Pulling your head up so he can hear your moans clearly. He wants to record it in his head, play it back anytime he’s alone in his room or shower. Let his mind wander over the fucked up ways he wants to defile and make the two of you feel good. His head is filthy, but he has a feeling you like it.

Sukuna loves knowing that.

“I’ll give it to you.” Sukuna grunts, “Who am I to say no to you, baby?” He can feel his eyes rolling into the back of his head, “I’ll give you everything, fuckin’ everything.” He watches as your body shakes, your pussy spasming around him. Small spurts wetting his thighs, it makes him come on the spot. Hunching over your body and gripping your hair harder.

It’s amazing, feeling the way you squeeze around him. His cock twitching inside of you, before white ropes of cum slide deep inside your pussy. It feels lewd, sickly satisfying and degrading. His body tensing as his eyes roll into the back of his head, his throat tightening and forcing out explicit curses and groans. “Holy fuckin’ shi—I think I’m going to…” Sukuna feels his head drop forward, head pounding as the orgasm finally ends.

You, on the other hand, slouch into his sheets. Your body is completely exhausted from the exertion it just experienced. Amazing, yes, but so goddamn tiring.

Sukuna leans back on his heels, slicking his hair back. A few strands dripped with sweat, sticking to his skin. “You okay, baby?” He whispers, rubbing his hands over your back.

You giggle, mumbling out a small, “Mhmm.”

“Good.” Sukuna lifts one of his legs up, planting his foot on the bed, “‘Cause I’m not done with you.” Of course, you’re not the only one burning with sensitivity here, Sukuna is dick is absolutely twitching with sensitivity… but this is the best part. When it feels so good it almost hurts, so far from wanting but craving for more.

You blink a few times, your pussy twitching. “Huh.”

Sukuna laughs, one hand moving to his head board, “You heard me.” He snaps his hips into your ass, “One more.” He pleads–no, begs, “Just give me one more.” He rolls his hips into you, right to left, up and down, just grrinnnding deep inside of you. “Please, please, I fuckin’ need it. Need you, baby.”

Sukuna’s voice is pleading, filling you up like an addictive drug. Hearing him beg is a mind-fuck, and it makes you want nothing more but to do that. “F–Fine.” You moan, “Just don’t stop movin–ah!”

“Thank you, baby, thank you.” Sukuna snaps his hips into you, there’s so much more strength behind it. You can feel him fucking your cervix, the hold he has on the headboard making it so he can fuck you harder then before. You can feel yourself losing yourself in pleasure, pain hurting in the best way possible.

Sukuna’s fucking you so hard you’re practically squished between his hard body, and his headboard. Your cheek pressed harshly against it, while you’re forced in a deep arch. He’s so deep in you.

You hear Sukuna laugh behind you, a mocking high pitched moan following. It takes you a single second to recognize what he’s doing, he’s mocking your moans. It’s degrading, a bit humiliating, but your stomach groans hot from his teasing tone.

You can’t let Sukuna know that.

But, you don’t have to say anything. He can feel the way you tighten around him, “Awh, does my baby like the way my dick feels inside of her.” He coos, “Hmm?”

You grit your teeth, trying to bite back a moan, “Of–of course–hah–not!” You bite back, furrowing your eyebrows.

Sukuna smirks, biting the inside of his cheek. “Yes you do, baby, yes you do.” You hate him, you hate how cocky he is, but you can’t deny how hot he is. Curse, Sukuna.

Suddenly, you feel something foreign building within you. Tight and hot, feeling a bit too good. A bit heavy, and wetter. Your moans grow, “Ah, ‘Kuna–something feels…” You grip his sheets between your fingers, “I feel like I’m gonna–gonna..” You squeal, your thighs squishing together.

Sukuna doesn’t relent, in fact, he moves both of his hands to the top of his head board, forcing himself deeper into you. Which you didn’t think was possible. “Yeah? You goin’ to come again?” He groans, dropping his head down, “I am too, do it for me. Make a mess on this dick.”

You feel your eyes roll back, tears streaming down your face as you finally feel the coil in your stomach snap. Sukuna watched with a pleasureful grimace as you wet his cock, squirting all over his cock and thighs. Words tumbling out of your mouth in a babbling mess, incoherent pleas at best.

Sukuna finally releases with you, unable to keep his voice down as he finally comes deep inside of you. “Fuck, holy shi–” He cuts himself off with a whine, almost whimpering when you tighten around him. Tears pearling his water line, as he tries–desperately tries–to keep quiet. Until, the idea of keeping composure became that, merely an idea long forgotten.

The orgasm feels overwhelming, nothing like Sukuna has ever experienced before. And, it feels like it’s never going to end. Almost sobbing as he finishes, “Holy–holy fu–fuck..” It's hot and blinding.

You hiccup, not having the energy to move, or even help Sukuna with pulling out. Sukuna collapses onto your body, making you giggle into his sheets. Your body twitching from the aftershocks of your mind-blowing orgasm. You feel like you’re on cloud nine, while also crashing down from the worst type of drug.

Sukuna softly exhales, and all he can smell is your sweet shampoo and sex filling the air. His over sensitive cock still feels stimulated, and everytime you so much as move, it feels painful. It feels good–a good pain, but a bit too much for his tired body.

“You’re going to suffocate me.” You mumble, your voice muffled by the sheets, and his weight. “You’re going to become a real Jeff the Killer if you murder me, ‘Kuna.” You giggle again, this time wailing your limbs as if you were in genuine danger.

“Okay.” He whines as he pulls away from you, his cum seeping down your thigh. He groans at the sight, closing his eyes as he tries to ignore the way his cock twitches. Despite how senstive and tired he is, he want nothing more but to fuck his load deep inside of you. And, against his better judgment, he doesn't. “Can you… can you breathe again?”

“Yeah.” Your skin is decorated in a thin shine of sweat, your hair sticking to your face and neck. You giggle again, moving your head to the side to look at Sukuna, “Yeah.”

Sukuna laughs with you, leaning down and laying right next to you. “Yeah.” He pushes your hair out of your face, “You feelin’ okay, I think I may have… pushed you a bit far.”

You nod, “I’m good.” You smile sweetly, cupping his face. “You did amazing.” You didn’t even know the human body could be that good. “I’m happy I did this… with you, Sukuna.” You press a quick kiss into his nose, before kissing his cheek. You’ve always been so incredibly sweet.

Sukuna’s lips part, his eyes widening ever so slightly. And, your stomach flutters with his expression, a soft smile on his features, his hand cupping your cheek. “I’m glad.” He whispers, “So glad.” You can see a subtle red on his face, and you almost panic.

“Wait, no, don’t move!” You twist around, reaching over his counter for your glasses which you conveniently haven’t moved since “studying” with Sukuna. “Let me grab my glasses.”

Sukuna tilts his head to the side, raising an eyebrow. “Why do you need your glasses?”

You laugh, sliding them on your face. “I want to look at you, dummy.” You look at him again, but pout when you see his expression is different. “Why’d you move your face? I wanted to see you clearly.” You’re a bit disappointed–no, you’re really disappointed.

“This is the face I was making.” Sukuna says with a dead face, not even an eyebrow is quirked. “I don’t make faces.” He shakes his head, “Never in my life. It’s a medical condition, actually.”

“Sukuna.” You whine, pouting slightly.

Sukuna says your name in a similar tone, mocking your facial expression.

You furrow your eyebrows, appalled by his audacity, before you snort. Bursting out in laughter, which is quickly joined in by Sukuna himself.

You wish you could stay like this forever, watching Sukuna open up in front of you. In a space close, intimate and sweet. Especially knowing it Sukuna you’re with. A man who doesn't really express anything but a scowl, which seems to be less true now that you’re spending time with him.

It feels like it’s more common to see him cracking a smile, even if it is a small one. Like right now, Sukuna’s laughing with you, a small blush on his cheeks, one that matches the color on the tips of his ears. It’s sweet, you love it.

You love him.

You love Sukuna.

You can feel your face turning hot, so you turn away, collecting yourself. “You should go get something to clean us up.” You look down on the sheets, dirty and wet. You scrunch your nose, “I feel gross.” You sigh, “And I totally need to study for finals.

Sukuna groans, “I take you out on a date, fuck your brains out, and you’re still thinking about school.” He wraps his arms around you, twisting you around so your back is to him. “You’re never fuckin’ happy.” He mumbles into your hair, pulling his sheets, over your body.

“Never happy.” You giggle back, “Actually, no, that’s a lie. If I saw you in a cowboy outfit, I’d be pretty happy.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Sukuna rolls his eyes, sighing into your hair, “I’ll deal with this tomorrow, let me just rest for a few hours.”

“I’m probably going to get pregnant within those few hours.” You mumble underneath your breath, and Sukuna freezes.

“Holy, fuckin’ shit.” Suknua springs up, and it’s a bit funny, you’ve never seen him this panicked before. Well, it is for a good reason. “Fuck! I completely–” He presses his hand to his face, but he quickly composes himself. “Hey, this isn’t… all bad.” He slicks his hair back, “If it ever came down to it, I’m more than capable of–”

You’re expressionless, “Go get a towel.” You point at the door, and Sukuna is quick to follow your instructions… after sliding on some sweats. For all he knows, you could be the mother to his unborn future child. Which isn't at all true, you started birth control the moment you entered college. But, you haven’t told Sukuna this… yet.

You’re quick to push his sheets off your body, opening his closet and pulling one of his white shirts, draping it over your body. You move back to the bed, about to sit on it when you glance at the counter again. Everything from the study day is still there, your textbook, computer.

You giggle, even the sticky note Suknua… you blink a few times, the sticky note Sukuna wrote on, the one you couldn’t read because you didn’t have your glasses. You almost slip only your feet diving for it, holding it an inch away from your nose as you read the small note written on it.

I love you

You feel your chest burst, squeezing tightly with love and passion. You place the sticky note back down, reaching for a pencil and scribbling something right next to it. Only to slam the pencil back down, and sit on Sukuna’s bed as if nothing had happened.

Something happened.

Sukuna looks up from the towel in his hands, damp and dripping with water droplets. Resting underneath his free arm is a fresh blanket. Sukuna pauses at the door frame, raising an eyebrow at you, “Somethin’ wrong.” He steps inside.

“Nope.” You throw yourself back on his bed, your hair splayed out messily.

Sukuna drops the blanket on the floor. “I don’t believe you.” You’re about to ask why, but Sukuna beats you to it, “You’re smiling like a fuckin’ idiot. It’s scary.” He’s quick to drop to his knees, grabbing your ankle and sliding the towel over your legs. Cleaning you up gently.

You’re smiling? You didn’t even notice.

You push yourself up, your palms pressing into the sheets of his bed. You watch with admiration as Sukuna slides the damp towel over your body, the water is warm. It feels good. Your eyes never leave him, and Sukuna’s eyes never leave you.

You can’t stop yourself, you run your fingers through his soft hair, and the words are silent on your tongue. ‘I love you.’ When Sukuna finally looks up, he can see you’re already smiling at him. Eyes soft, your expression utterly relaxed and dipped with admiration. You blink a few times, “I just think I like you.”

Sukuna lashes flutter, they’re long and pink. He turns away from you, ears shaded in an ever so subtle pink. “Idiot.” He mumbles, dropping the towel to the floor. He pushes himself up, and you're quick to engulf him in your arms. Closing your eyes and humming the moment your body collides with his, he’s warm, he’s always warm. You can even feel his heart beating out of his chest, it’s so fast, it’s faster than yours.

When did your heart speed up so much?

When did Sukuna’s heart speed up so much?

It’s silent, it reminds you of so many moments where the two of you are silent. And, for what feels like for the first time, Sukuna is the one to break it, “I think…” He mumbles, and you hug him tighter. “I think I don’t ever want to be left alone again.”

Sukuna’s words feel real, raw. You nod into his shoulder, “Okay.” You close your eyes, smiling with happiness, “I won’t leave you.” It's silent again, and you want to fill it, “I’m sorry.” You mumble, “I feel like I should say something, but I don’t know what to say.”

Sukuna shakes his head, and his hold around you grows tighter, “Your silence is enough.” He softly sighs into your shoulder, closing his eyes. He ador–loves how close the two of you are, even if no words are exchanged, there doesn't need for anything to be said.

“You’re enough.”

Final Chapter: Ch. 8 - Epilogue

Tag(s)!: @openup-yourmind, @sherlock-holmes-jr, @maskedpacific, @gasp-a-homo, @diogodxlot, @beahappyhoeee, @tojimeow, @sukunamylovexoxo, @yoontaedotin, @sukunaloverrr, @lanadelreylover4l, @raininginthemoonlight, @blackjanexx, @ethereally-lyann, @fritzzbitzz, @lanadelreylover4l, @chayunwoo, @madamteller, @mazzd4, @haithamsbb, @c-l-ellis, @samysaha, @pi-crust, @shukiinnkm

#Silent Love: Sukuna x Reader #jjk x you #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk #jujutsu ryomen #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen yuuji #sukuna x y/n #sukuna smut #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #jujutsu kaisen sukuna #jujutsu sukuna #jjk x reader smut #sukuna x reader smut

94 notes · View notes

dusty-siltstrider · 3 days

Text

Alright I'm gonna ruffle some feathers I think but idk I gotta say something.

For this moment and this moment only I'm going to set aside the rabid Viktor fan that I am and speak as a slightly less rabid Vi fan. She's a very close second and I relate to her the most out of the cast. Love her. So on and so forth. At this point the marketing is frustrating me less as a Viktor fan and more as a Vi fan.

When the Annecy people talked about a goth Vi fighting in the pits piss-drunk mad seeing crazy things I was ECSTATIC. Like holy shit that's such a major turn in her personality! Really fills out that whole "what does Vi do when she has no one left to protect" thing! Wow! Not to mention she's gonna be hot but that's a given. What a shocking thing to see when November comes around aaaand there she is in the trailer okay. Along with what is presumably her act 3 timeskip design judging by the longer hair. Element of surprise gone. Cool.

So where the Viktor part of me gets to waste hours yapping about where he's gonna be in season 2, what his arc will be, what he's gonna look like, what's gonna cause divorce era... feel like we're running out of room for speculation for the main 3. Room for imagination, if you will.

Like WE'VE BEEN KNEW ABOUT PIT FIGHTER VI. This isn't a surprise sneak peek anymore, everyone's either seen her in the trailer or at least heard about the Annecy stuff. Personally I no longer have the same level of insane jittery excitement to see how that arc goes in s2 anymore. Her new design is no longer a surprise and they're going to show even more tomorrow lol. I have little room to ponder "huh wonder what VI's gonna be up to." Pit fighter arc gets started and instead of my jaw dropping going "oh my god Vi honey you really are broken aren't you noooo" it's just... yeah that thing I saw during a Netflix event. Damn. Looks cool still but it's not a shock.

This massive point in both the plot and Vi's arc has become a marketing hype machine. Which dampens, you know, the whole "telling a story" thing.

What do I have to speculate about? Cait's whole iron-fist arc is fairly obvious via marketing, Vi's three-act structure has been pretty clearly laid out, they even spoiled Noxus/Ambessa turning on Piltover. Yeah, think we saw it coming, sure, but I kind of like being able to speculate on stories I enjoy. At least Jinx's revolutionary thing is pretty up in the air (which I still believe is a misdirect but I digress).

Please don't get me wrong, I really like her design and I'm still very excited to see where it goes! Obviously there's still plenty of details in between to fill out and yes I'm being slightly dramatic and yes my salt towards yet again no Viktor may be contributing to this frustration and YES pit fighter Vi is sick and the clip will be cool as fuck no matter what. But I'm honestly a little surprised everyone's so thrilled about this. I'm (likely) not watching it solely to preserve at least some element of surprise because I'm so excited for Vi next season and it sucks that they're just giving this all out in marketing.

Assuming this is the Annecy clip, that's just kinda lazy to reuse btw. But whatever this is lengthy and poorly worded enough.

Anyway bringing back the Viktor fan that I am yes I'm bitter yes I miss him yes I will not stop insisting that throwing in a few voice lines is not only perfectly reasonable as a teaser but would be more effective marketing wise than burning out the Cait/Vi/Jinx stuff bc deadass what else can they show us at this point okay thank you goodnight

#anyway... that is my presentation #if I'm proven wrong tomorrow you can idk call me a dingus or something #vi honey you're becoming marketable I don't like it #arcane #arcane season 2 #arcane vi #rambles #yeah I'm prob still gonna watch it wanna fight about it

21 notes · View notes

floofysmallbob · 7 months

Text

ok yes I read the mha manga and I had to stop a fuck ton of times to screech about the sexualization of teenagers, and the costumes in general aren’t practical or protective, so I, like many others, decided to redesign the costumes(and the characters, but mainly the costumes), starting with Yaoyorozu Momo.

I’m working on anatomy, and this has helped, but im still not the best, so if the proportions aren’t super accurate, please give me any tips you have to make them more so! so, here’s my hero costume design for Everything Hero: Creati

MAIN COSTUME:

hair pulled into a bun

high impact sports bra

unzips in the front and back

low rise athletic shorts

pockets

her og costume is already wayyy different from her normal style, she really only cares about practicality, so I didn’t take her style into account, otherwise it would look fairly different

sinchable cover up

it’s worn as a skirt kinda thing when not being used for modesty, like in the picture

everything has zippers on it

the zippers are high tech and magnetic for easy skin exposure, can also be remotely controlled by her smart watch

they have shit that can make dna super suits, technology implanted in zippers isn’t that much of a stretch

holographic technology

same thing with the visor, she can see approximately how much usable fat she has, pull up online data catalogs for certain items, etc

replaces the clunky ass books

utility belt that I can’t draw very well

contains snacks for her quirk as well as basic first aid and the like

knee and elbow pads

new, flat soled boots

a bit tall but they also zip up in the back

less skinny(she would maybe be skinny after excessive quirk use but not before) and I’ve given her more defined muscle

little bit of chub bc we love realistic body types

also some loosely defined abs

shorter/broader framed than I intended, but this was also my first redesign

COVER UP VERSION:

you can see just how low rise the shorts are

yes the bra underneath would realistically still be there but just unzipped but whatever

she canonically doesn’t care much about modesty but there are public decency laws and creepers so she gets a fucking cover up

also she is a teenager

COLD WEATHER VERSION:

thicker material

all of the black parts are unzippable

mainly there for warmth when she’s not engaging in active combat

I left the belt out but it’s still there

lined boots(not visible but I’d like to think so)

I made a mistake and accidentally had the shorts end where the cover up ends so they’re a little uneven

COLD WEATHER(WITH CLOAK)

cloak is there for warmth and occasionally stealth

yes the canon red one is more elegant but black absorbs more warmth and probably works better for stealth when she’s trying to pull off shit like the whole ‘operation sneak Bakugou out from under the nose of Japan’s most dangerous villain’ thing

HOT WEATHER VERSION:

I always thought it was dumb they only have a regular and cold weather version so I added one for hot weather

normal(not high collared) sports bra

also sometimes worn for her regular costume

the high collar one is only because it has more coverage and is similar to her prototype costume

which by the way, her prototype costume is way better than the canon one

shorter shorts

shorter boots

i probably should’ve given her those for all of her costumes but it’s fine

I don’t have cover up versions for this one

it’s a rough ish sketch, but I think I did fairly decent, and it helped a bit with drawing full body poses. I am editing this, with a few edits I made to the design, and with a proper bullet point format instead of just using dashes

#momo yaoyorozu #mha yaoyorozu #bnha yaoyorozu #yaoyorozu momo #yaoyorozu momo redesign #mha redesign #mha redesigns #mha #mha fanart #bnha redesigns #bnha fanart #bnha redesign #stop sexualizing teens #horikoshi im looking at you you perverted fucker

49 notes · View notes

itadores · 9 months

Text

ringing in the new year

note: i missed him sooo bad <3 happy new year’s eve or happy new year’s to all of you!

pairings: gojo satoru x gn!reader, ieiri shoko & gn!reader

word count: 1.6k

tags: gender neutral reader, alcohol consumption, alcohol intoxication, reader is bold when they drink, reader is so down bad for gojo, new year’s eve kisses!

trying to keep up with nanami and ieiri’s drinking is not one of your brightest ideas. given that they’re both heavyweights and you are decidedly not a heavyweight, you tapped out pretty early, waving your metaphorical white flag. you switched out the strong alcoholic drinks that you all were consuming in favor of something lighter and sweeter. something that wouldn't get you shit-faced.

you weren't drunk, but you were surely tipsy by now.

you know this because you don't try and conceal the way you're eyeing gojo satoru.

"you're staring," ieiri states as she takes another sip of her drink.

"am i?" you reply, your mind far away from the conversation with one of your dearest friends. the vision of gojo dressed in something other than his modified uniform is something for you to savor. his button-down shirt is a softer blue than his eyes, and his dark dress pants are incredibly form-fitting.

his ass looks good in them, your mind supplies.

"yes. you're making it painfully obvious too."

"oh." regretfully, you tear your gaze away from gojo and turn your attention to ieiri. "really?"

you're met with an unamused look.

"yes. really."

"he looks good,” you say to explain your blatant staring. the comment flows from you naturally, the alcohol to blame for the ease of the words coming out of your mouth.

"he looks the same as he usually does," ieiri sighs. her fingers tap against the glass of her drink. you can tell she wants a smoke right about now. maybe, she’ll get one in before the new year begins. she probably will.

“he usually looks good.”

ieiri rolls her eyes, muttering something under her breath before taking a larger sip of her drink.

“why don’t you go tell him that instead of telling me? didn’t you say you would do something about your feelings for him before the year ended?” ieiri looks down at the watch on her wrist. “you have about fifteen minutes.”

you may be more intoxicated than you thought because ieiri’s words embolden you, stirring you to action.

“okay, i will.”

before ieiri can stop you and tell you she wasn’t being serious, you’re gone from her side. she sighs. she really needs that smoke now.

despite your intoxicated state, you politely greet people you recognize, saying your hellos and exchanging happy new year eve’s as you cross the room. you keep the conversation to a minimum, attention zeroed in on your mission.

it doesn’t take long for you to reach the area of the room where gojo is located. there are a few people milling around him, trying to engage him in conversation. he looks painfully bored surrounded by them.

you approach nearer, and gojo’s expression changes. he straightens his back, looking more alert than he did a second ago. your traitorous heart dares to hope that you’re the cause of his change in demeanor.

you weave through the people near gojo, apologizing as you go. they give you curt replies, obviously disgruntled that you’re interrupting, but in the state you are, you don’t pay them much mind. your focus remains on gojo satoru, who now stands right in front of you.

if you thought gojo looked good from afar, he’s even more beautiful up close. he’s traded his usual black blindfold for a pair of dark sunglasses, allowing you a better view of his crystalline eyes, eyes that are solely focused on you. you swallow, wetting your lips. the alcohol thrumming in your veins prevents nerves from getting to you too much.

“happy new year’s eve, gojo. sorry for interrupting, but do you mind if i pull you away for a moment?”

gojo returns the greeting as an amused smile dances across his lips.

he tilts his head and motions with the drink in his hand. “lead the way.”

your cheeks, warm with alcohol, heat up for a completely different reason.

“follow me then.”

gojo sets down his drink down on the nearest surface and says his goodbyes to the people who were attempting to converse with him before abruptly leaving and following your lead. it makes you a little giddy that he parts ways from them so easily at your prompting.

you’re not exactly sure where you’re going, unfamiliar with the layout of this floor, but your feet bring you to the nearest open balcony, close enough to still hear the music and chattering of the party but far enough to have a private conversation.

although frigid, the fresh air is refreshing, acting as a balm for your warm over-heated skin. you lean forward against the balcony railing, taking a deep breath and making a sound of contentment as you exhale.

you turn around, away from the railing, and your breath is nearly stolen from you as you look at gojo. he’s leaning against the entrance to the balcony, his silhouette illuminated by the lights from within. he’s beautiful. it’s not the first time the thought has crossed your mind, and it surely will not be the last.

now that gojo sees that he has your attention, he comes closer, closing the distance between you and him in just a few short strides.

he’s close enough that you can smell his expensive cologne.

“what did you drag me out here for?” gojo tilts his head, his eyes visible over the tops of his sunglasses. they nearly glow in the low light.

his question isn’t accusatory, rather his words are colored with only unbridled curiosity.

you shrug. “i wanted to talk to you.”

he laughs, the sound more befitting of a child than a grown man. even if gojo is laughing at your expense, you’re still mesmerized by the sound he makes and the way his neck curves, throat bared, as he tosses his head back slightly. a cheeky grin stretches across gojo’s face as his laughter finally dies down. “wanted to talk about what exactly?”

“i wanted,” you pause, recalling why you approached gojo and dragged him away from the party in the first place. your throat is dry as you swallow, liquid courage spurring you to get the words that are heavy on your tongue out. you straighten out your back and force yourself to meet gojo’s expectant gaze. “i wanted to tell you that you clean up nicely.”

gojo doesn’t so much as flinch upon hearing you say that. it’s almost as if he already knew, was already expecting you to tell him as much. truthfully, you wouldn’t be surprised.

“oh really?” gojo grin widens. he takes a step closer to you, and your heart flutters like a hummingbird in your chest at the lack of distance between you now. he leans in, forgoing any sort of personal space, his face so near to your own that you can feel his exhales against your skin. “is that all you wanted to tell me?”

“no.” your honesty catches you off guard, but there’s no going back now. the alcohol in your system has faded to a low thrum in your veins, and you blame it for what you say next. “i wanted to also ask if i could kiss you.”

“what’s stopping you?”

your heart lurches.

he…he didn’t turn you down or spurn you away.

you’re dreaming, you think. this is all a dream, and you’re going to wake up sooner than later and realize that you dreamt of gojo again. you dig your nails into your palms, and the faint pinpricks of pain make your eyes widen because this is not a dream. you are awake and this is real and gojo satoru has essentially just given you his permission to kiss him.

in the distance, you can hear the beginning of the countdown for the new year. you’re running out of time.

“i want to hear you say it.” you wince when your statement sounds more like a plead.

gojo laughs again, but it’s softer this time. not quiet as loud and boisterous as it once was. it’s a beautiful sound, and you hope that you’ll have a chance to hear it again.

“so pushy,” gojo teases.

you can feel the body warmth radiating off of him as his hands move from his side to hover over the curve of your waist, only settling into place when you lean into him. you place your hands on the tops of gojo’s shoulders, his button-down shirt wrinkling beneath the weight of your palms. you’re filled with nervous anticipation, you can hardly believe this is happening. the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end when gojo’s lips abruptly brush against the shell of your ear.

“go ahead and kiss me.”

just as you close the distance between you and gojo, you can hear the room attached to the balcony erupt in cheer. it all sounds so distant though when all of your senses are flooded with gojo, gojo, gojo. his lips are soft and glossy, and you easily think you could get addicted to kissing him. one of your hands slides up from his shoulders to grip the back of his neck, fingers dragging through his undercut. a sound forms in the back of gojo’s throat and you greedily swallow it down. you’d devour him whole if you could, but the need to breathe forces you to separate.

your chest heaves in exertion, and you’re sure that there is a dazed look in your eyes. the air escapes your lungs once more when you see gojo’s lips shiny with a mix of gloss and spit, swollen and kiss-bitten. all from your doing.

“not bad,” gojo says.

it’s your turn to laugh this time. the sound is airy and breathless and disbelieving. you reach a hand around the back of gojo’s head again, leaning in once more.

“happy new year’s gojo,” you murmur, soft and sweet, and you realize that you are terribly in love with gojo satoru before you kiss him once more.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #from.jujutsu kaisen #new.mail #love.gojo satoru

86 notes · View notes

fruitbasketball · 1 month

Text

wnba recap 8/16

i didn’t get to watch a game last night bc i was watching paige and flau’jae coach high schoolers into turnovers but i got box!!! so here we go

seattle storm vs atlanta dream

i was surprised that atlanta squeaked this win out bc seattle actually is (dare i say it) a good team

but when rhyne howard drops 30 on y’all heads 😭😭😭 not much you can do i guess 😭😭😭 man i really forget jordin canada plays for atlanta now, but really solid contribution from that starting five

nobody was like exponentially ass this game either like… sure naz only got 6 points, but 13 boards makes up for it. ezi only scores 6 but gets 7 boards

except jordan… maybe jordan was ass

sds back 😮‍💨😮‍💨😮‍💨 i misseddd herrr 🥰 GIMME 29 🗣️🗣️🗣️

29 for skylar, 21 for jewell, 16 for nneka, and NONE FOR NIKA MUHL

i am in pain.

dallas wings vs connecticut sun

nobody can save dallas atp. not even satou. lord what the fuck is THIS 😃😃😃😃

satou had 20/7/8 😃😃😃 rike shot 50% 😃😃😃 y’all cannot STILL BE LOSING

i get that it’s connecticut but like y’all NEED TO QUIT TANKING. NO ONE IS COMING TO SAVE Y’ALL. YOU NEED TO SAVE YOURSELVES.

okay celeste! give us nothing! (2 points)

at with a triple flirt? we love to see it. plus marina with 17 in her debut game??? let’s see how you play with nai on the floor tho 😭😭 i’m playing but fr someone investigate that

YES LIV 4-5 I LOVE YOU BABY YOU’RE DOING SO GOOD

yeah connecticut’s the best team in the league, and i say that because i hate watching the liberty

phoenix mercury vs indiana fever

bro caitlin clark is an insane individual. there is no other way to put it.

what do you fucking mean it’s your first game back and you put up 29/5/10??? on 50% shooting??? who ARE YOU???

and kelsey mitchell with 28?? lyss with a near double??? man y’all make me look GOOFY bc just two days ago i was talking about how good the merc look

dee bro… get another tech. nah go ahead get another fucking tech 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭 PLEASE GO A MOTHERFUCKING HEAD AND GET ANOTHER TECH SO HELP ME GOD

another 30 piece for kah 💀💀💀💀💀 and this is how you treat her 💀💀💀💀💀 i am going to bomb phoenix 😃😃😃😃😃😃

man y’all just out here with the sole intent of making me look dumb as fuck bro get it together

headassery

y’all wanna act fuckin stupid go play in the nba i’m TIRED OF THIS SHIT

#wbb #wnba #women’s basketball #phoenix mercury #indiana fever #connecticut sun #dallas wings #seattle storm #atlanta dream #caitlin clark #diana taurasi #wnba recap by mina

26 notes · View notes

reallygroovyninja · 5 months

Text

I want to preface the story I am about to post is garbage. No, really, it's bad. There are moments in it you can see my brain think oh shit, I need to explain myself.

If you want to read a story I am very proud of, check out The Fallen. It does have a shocking ending, which I am very sure turns people off, but I stayed faithful to the story that inspired it.

Anyway, here is unfinished Word Document 20. It's so bad I had to hide it under a cut. lol

Lexa was seated in a quaint office adorned with countless baby pictures, each snapshot a vignette of new beginnings and cherished memories. The walls, a gentle palette of pastel hues, were lined meticulously with these joyful expressions, casting a soft, hopeful glow throughout the room. The ambiance was both serene and surreal, as if Lexa had stepped into a gallery of future possibilities.

At the desk, a woman named Marlene, who ran the agency, extended a packet of papers toward Lexa. "Based on your criteria and the comprehensive tests you completed, these are the candidates we believe match your needs," Marlene explained, her tone both professional and empathetic. She knew that the choices contained in these documents could change lives. "Once you have a shortlist, let us know. We can then provide you with their photographs. This decision is profound—it should transcend mere physical appearances."

Lexa appreciated the process's discretion and thoroughness. She had longed for a child, a desire unmet in her past relationships, none of which revealed an alpha compelling enough to share her life's journey. Now, she sought a different route—a sperm surrogate, an alpha who would contribute to the life she wished to create and then step away, allowing her the autonomy she desired in raising her child.

They would meet intermittently, their encounters solely intended to achieve conception. It was an arrangement devoid of traditional romantic entanglements, focused instead on the singular goal of motherhood.

Taking the packet, Lexa began to leaf through the pages. Names, occupations, medical histories, personal hobbies, and more—details designed to paint a picture of each potential candidate. Yet, as she skimmed the information, the details seemed to meld into a blur of text. She knew she would need time and quiet to pore over these sheets, to consider who these people were beyond the data.

Marlene watched her with a calm understanding, accustomed to the weight such decisions carried for her clients. "There’s no rush," she reassured Lexa. "Take the packet home, think over your options carefully. We're here to support you every step of the way."

Grateful for the empathy and professionalism, Lexa nodded, clutching the documents a bit tighter as she prepared to leave. The smiling, innocent faces of the babies seemed to bid her farewell and good luck. Stepping out of the office, Lexa felt the gravity of her decision resting on her shoulders—a burden, yes, but also a beacon of the profound joy and love she hoped to welcome into her life.

Later that evening, Lexa settled onto her couch, a glass of red wine in hand, the soft hum of her quiet home enveloping her as she spread the stack of profiles across her coffee table. The light of her living room lamp cast a cozy glow, perfect for the introspective task at hand. She had decided on a methodical approach to review each candidate: she would create two piles—one for definite no's, and another to review again.

Taking a sip of her wine, Lexa began. One by one, she carefully read through each profile, considering the potential of each candidate not just as a genetic contributor, but as someone whose traits might mesh well with her own for the child they would share. Her fingers brushed against the papers, shifting them between the two designated areas on her table.

There was Jacob, whose profile intrigued her right away. His interests in environmental science and community gardening hinted at a thoughtful, perhaps gentle soul. Then there was Bellamy, a police officer whose tone in the self-description came off a bit too brash for her liking; his profile radiated a certain arrogance that Lexa found off-putting. He was promptly placed in the no pile.

As she continued, a few others passed her review—some with potential, others lacking the certain je ne sais quoi she was searching for. Finally, she reached the bottom of the stack, where a profile named Clarke rested. At first glance, something about Clarke's description didn’t quite resonate with her, and she was tempted to add it to the no pile. Yet, something—perhaps a detail she had missed or a gut feeling—nudged at her to reconsider.

With a thoughtful frown, Lexa picked up Clarke’s profile again. This time, she read slower, trying to capture the essence behind the words. Clarke was an artist, deeply involved in local community projects, which spoke to a creative and civic-minded spirit. His brief mention of a love for old cinema and classic books hinted at depth. Lexa waffled, her initial impression clashing with the intrigue now sparked by her second, more careful reading.

Setting Clarke's profile down on the "review again" pile, Lexa decided not to rush her judgment. She finished her wine, her mind actively weaving through the impressions each profile had left. Tonight was just the beginning. She knew the importance of this choice, not just for herself, but for her future child. She’d return to these profiles after a night’s rest, perhaps seeing them anew with fresh eyes and a clearer perspective.

The next morning, Lexa found herself with a phone pressed to her ear, recounting the previous evening's deliberations to her cousin Anya. Anya had always been more like a sister to Lexa, providing both support and candid advice whenever Lexa needed it.

"So, I've got these two piles," Lexa explained, her voice carrying a mix of resolve and uncertainty. "The no pile is pretty straightforward—those profiles just didn't click for me. But the 'review again' pile, that's where it gets tricky. There’s Jacob, who really seems like a gentle soul, and Clarke, who I almost passed on but decided to give another look."

On the other end of the line, Anya listened intently, her occasional hums of agreement punctuating Lexa’s detailed descriptions of the potential alphas. When Lexa finished, there was a brief silence, the kind that hinted at Anya's deep consideration before she spoke.

"Lex, are you sure about all this?" Anya’s voice was gentle, yet probing. "I mean, it sounds like you're really trying to convince yourself here. Aren't you giving up a bit easily on finding the right alpha? You know, the traditional way?"

Lexa sighed, a soft sound of mixed emotions. "I know it seems like I'm rushing into this, but I've thought about it a lot. I just haven't met someone who fits what I'm looking for in a partner... someone I want to share my life with. This way, I can focus on what I really want—a child. I don’t need a romantic relationship to make that happen."

Anya was quiet for a moment, likely weighing her next words. "I get that, I really do. But it’s a big step, Lexa. Just make sure you’re choosing this path because it’s truly what you want, not because you feel it’s your only option."

Lexa nodded to herself, appreciating Anya's concern. "I understand, and I appreciate you looking out for me. I’m not closing the door on finding someone someday, but right now, this feels right. I want to be a mom, Anya. And I feel ready to do this on my own terms."

Anya’s response was warm, supportive. "Then you know I'm behind you one hundred percent. Just promise me you'll think on it a little more, okay? And whatever you decide, I’m here for you."

"Thanks, Anya. That means a lot to me," Lexa replied, feeling a comforting sense of reassurance. She knew Anya only wanted the best for her, and having her support strengthened Lexa's resolve to move forward thoughtfully and confidently.

After ending the call with Anya, Lexa set aside the 'review again' pile of profiles on her dining table, deciding not to revisit them until later that evening. She knew the importance of the decision ahead and recognized the need to approach it with a clear mind and a settled heart.

The conversation with Anya had stirred a mix of emotions and considerations, reinforcing the gravity of her choice. Lexa felt it crucial to give herself space—to let her initial impressions simmer and her intuition align with her logical reasoning. This pause, she believed, would help her return to the profiles with fresh eyes and a more decisive heart.

During the day, Lexa busied herself with her usual activities, allowing her subconscious to process the morning’s conversation and her own feelings about each candidate. She went for a long walk in the park, the rhythmic steps helping to clear her mind. She met with a friend for coffee, enjoying the distraction and the normalcy of casual conversation.

As the day turned into evening, Lexa felt more centered. She prepared a quiet space at home, with minimal distractions, lighting a candle for a touch of calm ambiance. She poured herself a glass of wine, similar to the night before, setting the stage for contemplation and decision-making.

Sitting down, she slowly began to revisit each profile in the 'review again' pile. Lexa’s goal was to narrow her choices to two or three potential alphas—individuals who not only met her criteria on paper but whom she felt could genuinely contribute to the life and the values she hoped to nurture in her future child. With a deep breath, she delved into the profiles once more, ready to make one of the most significant decisions of her life.

As the evening wore on, Lexa methodically revisited each profile, reflecting deeply on the characteristics and values of each potential alpha. Slowly, her list began to narrow until she was left with three names: Jacob, Roan, and Clarke.

Jacob’s profile had an immediate and strong appeal. His dedication to environmental conservation and his gentle demeanor resonated with Lexa's own values. It seemed a natural alignment, one that suggested he would bring the kind of thoughtful and nurturing influence she desired for her child.

Roan presented a different allure. His profile portrayed him as a resilient and ambitious individual, someone who had overcome significant challenges to achieve personal and professional success. There was a strength in Roan's narrative that Lexa admired, a testament to his character that she believed would be a valuable trait to pass on to her offspring.

Yet, despite the compelling cases for both Jacob and Roan, Lexa found her thoughts continually drifting back to Clarke’s profile. There was an intriguing blend of creativity and intellect in his background— an artist with an Ivy League education, deeply involved in community service. His profile hinted at a complex, multifaceted personality; he was someone who valued both expression and academia, who understood the importance of giving back to the community.

Clarke’s interests in the arts and his commitment to societal contribution painted a picture of a man who was not only educated but also empathetic and engaged with the world around him. These were traits Lexa admired and sought for her child’s upbringing.

The more Lexa thought about Clarke, the more she realized how much his qualities appealed to her. He represented a balance of intelligence, creativity, and civic responsibility—elements that she valued deeply and imagined could foster a rich, nurturing environment for a child.

With a thoughtful sigh, Lexa placed Jacob and Clarke’s profiles side by side, with Roan's just slightly below them. It was clear these were her finalists, each bringing something unique and valuable to the table. She knew her decision would not be easy, but she also felt reassured by the strength of her final choices. As she prepared to retire for the night, Lexa felt a quiet confidence that among these men, she would find the right partner for the journey ahead.

On a quiet Sunday morning, with a cup of tea steaming gently beside her laptop, Lexa settled down to compose an email to the agency. The decision to request photos of her three final candidates—Jacob, Roan, and Clarke—felt like the next logical step in her carefully considered process. She knew the agency wouldn't respond until Monday, but drafting the email gave her a sense of progress and control over her choices.

Lexa typed with deliberate care, her words reflecting the gravity of her request. She explained that she had narrowed her selection down to three potential alphas and would now like to see their photographs to aid in her final decision. Lexa stressed that while she understood the importance of not basing her choice solely on physical attraction, she believed that a certain level of physical compatibility was essential for her comfort and confidence in this unique and intimate arrangement.

As she hit send, Lexa felt a wave of anticipation mixed with satisfaction. Each of her chosen candidates brought distinct and strong qualities to the table. Jacob with his gentle nature and environmental passion, Roan with his resilience and proven ambition, and Clarke with his creative spirit and intellectual prowess—each was appealing in a uniquely compelling way. Lexa appreciated the diversity in their profiles, which she believed would allow her to make a balanced choice based on a combination of intellectual, emotional, and physical attributes.

Leaning back in her chair, Lexa allowed herself to feel hopeful about the next steps. She hoped that the upcoming photos would not only confirm the impressions she had formed from their profiles but also ignite a spark of attraction. The thought of conceiving a child necessitated a certain level of physical appeal, and she hoped to find that in at least one of these men, making the process of becoming a mother not just a fulfillment of a desire but also a comfortable and pleasing journey.

With her part done for now, Lexa spent the rest of her day engaged in preparing for the new week, her mind occasionally wandering to her three candidates. The blend of curiosity and excitement for what Monday would bring was palpable, as she envisioned a future where one of these men would help her realize her dream of motherhood.

In her office, Lexa found herself repeatedly glancing at her phone, which lay beside her keyboard—a silent testament to her growing impatience. Each time the screen lit up with a notification, she felt a jolt of anticipation, only to find emails unrelated to her personal inquiry. The response from the agency, it seemed, was taking its sweet time.

Lexa tried to anchor her focus on the reports and spreadsheets that crowded her desktop. Her work, typically a realm where she excelled and found clarity, now felt like a cumbersome distraction. Her thoughts, disobedient and wild, fluttered incessantly towards the potential images of Jacob, Roan, and Clarke.

She knew their basic features—hair color, eye color—but these details painted no vivid picture in her mind. What were their smiles like? How did they carry themselves? Were they tall, broad-shouldered, or had a more slender, athletic build? These unknowns spun around in her head, each a question mark adding to a mosaic of curiosity and expectation.

Her concentration broke again, and she reached for her phone, scrolling through her inbox fruitlessly once more. With a sigh, Lexa set the device down and tried to realign her focus on a particularly complex data analysis. But even as she parsed through numbers and trends, part of her mind wandered, sketching imaginary portraits of the three men based on the scant information she had.

The morning dragged on, each tick of the office clock a reminder of the waiting she had to endure. Lexa found herself tapping a pen against her desk, her gaze drifting towards the window, where the city below seemed indifferent to her internal turmoil. The blend of excitement and nerves was palpable, like the quiet tension that fills the air before a storm breaks.

Finally, acknowledging her distracted state, Lexa decided to take a brief walk around the building, hoping that a change of scenery and a bit of movement would help her regain her concentration. As she strolled through the quieter parts of her workplace, she reminded herself that the decision she was about to make was significant and deserved this level of anticipation and thought. Returning to her desk refreshed, Lexa resolved to put her personal feelings aside and dive back into her work—determined to keep her professional prowess intact, even as her personal life beckoned with unanswered questions.

As the end of the workday approached, Lexa had almost resigned herself to the idea that her eagerly awaited email from the agency wouldn't arrive until Tuesday. She felt a mixture of disappointment and relief, the delay giving her more time to prepare mentally for what those photos might reveal.

She set her phone down one more time, focusing on shutting down her computer and organizing her desk for the evening. Just as she pushed back from her desk, her phone buzzed with the distinct chime of a new email notification. Her heart skipped a beat when she saw the sender: the agency.

Quickly, she tapped on the notification, her eyes scanning the email's contents. The agency apologized for the delay, explaining they had taken extra care to ensure the photographs matched her request for confidentiality and respect towards the candidates. Attached to the email were three files, each labeled with the name of one of her potential alphas: Jacob, Roan, Clarke.

Lexa's thumb hovered over the attachments. A part of her wanted to open them immediately, to finally put faces to the names and profiles she had been pondering over for days. Yet, as she sat in the stillness of her office, a wave of hesitation washed over her. Was this the right place to make such a personal, potentially life-altering discovery?

Her office, usually a space of professional decisions and work-focused thoughts, suddenly felt too impersonal, too public for this deeply private moment. She contemplated the weight of what these images represented—not just potential genetic contributors but possible co-creators of her future child.

Deciding she needed the privacy and comfort of her own home to experience this moment, Lexa locked her phone and slipped it into her bag. Once home, she could take her time, process her reactions in her own space, and make thoughtful decisions without the confines of her professional environment.

As she walked out of the building into the warm evening air, Lexa felt a reassuring calm settle over her. Tonight, with a cup of her favorite tea in hand, she would meet, in a way, the men who might help her fulfill her dream of motherhood. It was a meeting that deserved her full presence and undivided attention, best done in the sanctuary of her home.

Lexa's evening unfolded with a mixture of routine and restless anticipation. After a quiet dinner, she methodically washed her dishes, the warm soapy water running over her hands as she scrubbed. This daily chore, usually a mindless task, felt different tonight. Each plate rinsed and set to dry was a moment to stall, a brief reprieve from the decision that awaited her.

As the dishes were put away and her kitchen returned to its usual tidy state, Lexa brewed a cup of calming chamomile tea. The steam curled into the air, carrying with it a scent that usually relaxed her, but tonight it was just another step in delaying the inevitable.

Part of her meticulous post-dinner clean-up was borne from habit, but another part was driven by a palpable apprehension. She was about to make a decision that would significantly shape her future. The man whose image she was about to view might very well be the one to help her fulfill her deep-seated desire to become a mother. This wasn't just any routine interaction; this was about selecting an alpha who would provide the genetic material to conceive her child and then, as per the agreement, step away.

With her cup of tea in hand, Lexa finally settled onto her couch, her usual spot for unwinding after a long day, but nothing about tonight was usual. She took a deep, steadying breath, feeling the warmth of the tea seep into her palms. Her phone lay next to her, an innocuous presence that now seemed daunting.

Finally, she picked up her phone, her thumb hovering over the email app with hesitation. This action, so simple and routine, felt momentous. She opened the email once more, and there they were, the attachments waiting just a click away. Each file bore the name of a potential alpha: Jacob, Roan, and Clarke.

Lexa tapped tentatively on the image file labeled "Jacob," her breath catching slightly in anticipation. The photo that materialized showed a man with boyish good looks, his smile gentle and inviting, eyes sparkling with a warmth that reinforced the impression of kindness his profile had suggested. Jacob's image aligned perfectly with what Lexa had envisioned—a friendly face that could bring comfort and reassurance.

Next, she opened the file for Roan. As his image came into view, Lexa noted his longish hair and the unmistakable intensity in his gaze. His strong jawline and the serious set of his mouth gave him a rugged appearance, one that spoke of resilience and a certain sternness. Roan looked like a man who faced challenges head-on, a stark contrast to Jacob’s softer, more approachable demeanor.

Finally, Lexa clicked on the last image, labeled "Clarke." She expected to see another male alpha, similar to the first two. However, as the image slowly loaded, her expectations were upended. The photo revealed not a man, but a striking woman with deep blue eyes and long blonde hair. Lexa stared, taken aback, as she processed the unexpected sight of a female alpha. Clarke’s presence in the photo was compelling; her gaze was direct and confident, radiating a strong sense of self-assuredness.

Lexa’s initial shock slowly gave way to a mix of emotions. Clarke’s appearance was stunning, and there was an undeniable beauty in her features that Lexa found herself unexpectedly drawn to. This twist in her journey made Lexa pause, her mind racing through the implications. She had not considered the possibility of a female alpha, yet here was Clarke, challenging her preconceptions and expanding the horizon of her choices.

Sitting back on the couch, Lexa took a moment to reflect. Each candidate brought something unique to the table: Jacob’s kindness, Roan’s intensity, and now Clarke’s unexpected presence—a female alpha who exuded strength and allure. Lexa knew this decision required more than a cursory glance at photographs. It was about finding a connection, a match that felt right on multiple levels.

As she continued to gaze at Clarke’s image, Lexa felt a curious pull, a fascination that urged her to reconsider what she thought she had been looking for in an alpha. Clarke’s striking blue eyes seemed to beckon for consideration, asking Lexa to step beyond the familiar and entertain the possibilities that lay in unexpected quarters.

As Lexa continued to sit on her couch, the images of the three alphas lingered on her phone screen, each one offering a different possibility, a different future. The room was quiet, save for the soft hum of the city outside her window. Lexa found herself lost in thought, trying to envision what a child with each of these individuals might look like.

First, there was Jacob, with his warm brown eyes and dark hair, features that gave him an approachable, boy-next-door charm. Lexa imagined a child with similar soft, dark locks, perhaps inheriting Jacob's easy smile and the inherent kindness that seemed to radiate from his expression.

Then there was Roan, with his intense blue eyes and dark, slightly wild hair. His features were sharp, his presence in the photo almost commanding. A child with Roan might inherit those striking blue eyes, Lexa thought, along with a likely strong-willed spirit and perhaps that same sense of resilience that Roan seemed to embody.

Finally, her mind drifted to Clarke. The image of the blonde-haired, blue-eyed alpha with a distinct chin dimple was vivid in her mind. Lexa found herself particularly curious about this feature—a charming little dimple that added so much character to Clarke's smile. Would a child with Clarke inherit that same dimple? Lexa pictured a little one with light hair and those piercing blue eyes, maybe running around with a mischievous grin punctuated by that adorable dimple.

Each mental image brought a smile to Lexa's face but also added layers of complexity to her decision. This wasn't just about choosing a partner for conception; it was about choosing half of the genetic makeup of her future child. Each alpha not only offered different physical traits but also different backgrounds and personalities that would influence their child.

Lexa took a deep breath, feeling both overwhelmed and excited by the possibilities. As she sipped her tea, now lukewarm, she realized that this decision would shape not just her future, but that of her child. She knew that beyond looks, she needed to consider which values and qualities she most hoped to pass on. The process felt daunting, yet the thought of motherhood filled her with a profound sense of purpose. As the evening waned, Lexa knew that these reflections were just the beginning of her journey towards making one of the most significant decisions of her life.

After a period, Lexa felt the need to share her thoughts and get some feedback. She reached for her phone, dialed Anya, and quickly forwarded the email with the images of the alphas she was considering.

"Hey Anya, can you check your email real quick? I sent you something important," Lexa said as soon as her cousin answered the phone.

"Got it, let's see these candidates," Anya replied, her interest piqued. They started with Jacob, whose soft features and kind eyes made a good first impression. Then they moved on to Roan. "He looks exactly like what you’d expect an alpha to look like, doesn’t he?" Anya remarked, clearly impressed by his strong, intense demeanor.

Lexa chuckled, "Of course, an alpha would pick the most alpha-looking of the three."

However, the conversation took a turn when Anya opened Clarke’s image. "Oh, wow, this is a female alpha. That’s unexpected."

Lexa nodded to herself, feeling a mix of emotions. "Yeah, it adds another layer to Clarke. I've always been attracted to female alphas, but I was open to a male alpha, thinking it might be simpler for the whole baby process."

Anya paused, considering Lexa's words. "How do you feel about Clarke being in the mix now? This is a bit of a curveball."

"It is," Lexa agreed. "But honestly, seeing Clarke in there, it kind of stirred something. My ex was a female alpha, too. There’s a familiarity there."

"Sounds like Clarke’s presence is challenging some of your initial thoughts," Anya said thoughtfully. "But Lex, this is about what you want and need right now. If Clarke resonates with you more, maybe there’s more to think about here than just going the straightforward path."

Lexa took a deep breath, feeling the weight and truth in Anya’s words. "I guess you’re right. I need to think about what each option could really mean for me and the future. Clarke being a female alpha isn’t just a detail; it’s significant to how I feel about this whole process."

As they wrapped up their conversation, Lexa felt grateful for Anya’s insight and understanding. Discussing each candidate openly had clarified not just the practical considerations but also the emotional ones. Now, more than ever, Lexa knew her decision would not only be informed by what was expected but also by what felt right for her personally.

With the images of the alphas now in her possession, Lexa faced a self-imposed deadline: by Friday, she needed to make her decision. The choice she was about to make was not just about selecting an alpha but choosing a co-contributor to a life-changing journey. It would set the course for her long-held dream of becoming a mother.

Over the next two days, Lexa immersed herself in deep reflection. She had swiftly eliminated Roan from her list of potential candidates. His intensity, though initially striking, felt somewhat overpowering upon further consideration, and she realized it didn't align with the kind of parental influence she envisioned for her child.

Now, it was down to Jacob and Clarke. Jacob, with his gentle demeanor and environmental passion, seemed like a safe and rational choice. His traits aligned well with Lexa's values, and she could easily envision him as a positive genetic influence on her child. Yet, despite the logical fit Jacob presented, Lexa found her thoughts repeatedly drifting back to Clarke.

Clarke's presence in the selection process had been unexpected and impactful. As a female alpha, she brought a familiar dynamic that resonated deeply with Lexa, reminding her of the past. Lexa had to admit, there was a certain allure and comfort in the idea of choosing a female alpha.

Sitting at her dining room table with both profiles laid out before her, Lexa pondered whether her inclination towards Clarke was primarily influenced by her being a female alpha. Was it the novelty and emotional resonance of Clarke's status that drew her in, or was there something more substantial in Clarke's profile that connected with her own aspirations and dreams?

Lexa spent hours dissecting every detail in their profiles, weighing not just the emotional but also the pragmatic aspects of each choice. She considered not just who they were on paper, but who they might be in her life while conceiving a child. As she mulled over her options, Lexa tried to separate her feelings about their alpha status from what each could potentially offer as a co-contributor to her child’s genetic and cultural heritage.

By Thursday evening, a decision began to crystallize in her mind. Lexa realized that her choice needed to be based on a balance of emotional resonance and practical considerations, a decision that felt right both in her heart and her mind.

Friday morning dawned with a sense of resolution for Lexa. She had made her decision, and though nerves fluttered in her stomach, she was ready to take the next step. Sitting at her dining room table with her phone in hand, she dialed the number for the agency, her finger lingering over the call button for a moment before she pressed it.

"Marlene speaking, how may I assist you today?" came the familiar, professional voice from the other end.

"Hi Marlene, it’s Lexa Woods," she responded, her voice steady but with an undercurrent of anxiety. "I’ve made my decision regarding the alpha. I wanted to discuss it with you and see what the next steps are."

"That's great to hear, Lexa," Marlene replied warmly. "I know this has been a thoughtful process for you. Who have you decided to go with?"

After a slight pause, filled with a momentary doubt, Lexa affirmed, "I’ve chosen Clarke."

"Clarke, excellent choice," Marlene said. "She brings a unique perspective and strengths. What ultimately led you to this decision?"

Lexa hesitated, feeling a brief resurgence of her earlier indecision. "Well, there’s a lot about Clarke that resonates with me, her background, her values... and I guess the fact that she's a female alpha adds another layer of connection. I just hope I’ve made the right choice," Lexa confessed, a hint of uncertainty lacing her words.

"Choosing an alpha is always a significant and personal decision, Lexa. It’s normal to have some last-minute doubts, but it’s important that it feels right to you. Let’s arrange a meeting with Clarke. You two can discuss everything openly, and it will also be a chance for you to address any concerns you might have before moving forward."

"That would be very helpful," Lexa agreed, feeling reassured by Marlene's calm and understanding tone. "I think meeting her will give me the clarity to move forward confidently."

"Perfect," Marlene responded. "I’ll arrange for you both to meet and discuss the details. You’ll also have the opportunity to sign the contracts, ensuring everything is transparent and agreed upon. I’ll look for some potential dates and get back to you as soon as possible."

"Thank you, Marlene," Lexa said, relief washing over her. "I appreciate all your help."

"You’re welcome, Lexa. We're here to make sure that you are comfortable and confident in your decisions. I’ll be in touch very soon with some dates for the meeting," Marlene assured her.

As Lexa ended the call, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. The decision was made, and a plan was in place. The thought of meeting Clarke and discussing the future brought a mix of excitement and a newfound peace. Lexa knew that whatever doubts she had would likely be settled once she and Clarke could sit down and talk face to face.

Marlene had been efficient and considerate in her arrangements. She set the meeting for two weeks out, giving Lexa and Clarke ample time to prepare for their first encounter. The date was marked on Lexa’s calendar, each day inching closer filled with a blend of anticipation and nerves.

Finally, the day of the meeting arrived. Lexa stood in front of her closet in the morning, her mind racing with the unusual complexity of choosing the right outfit. "What do you wear to a meeting with someone you are contractually going to be sleeping with in order to create a child?" she muttered to herself. The question was as surreal as her situation.

After much deliberation, Lexa opted for something that struck a balance between professional and comfortable—an elegant blouse paired with well-fitted trousers. It was important to her that she present herself as both serious about the arrangement and approachable.

Driving to the agency, Lexa’s hands were slightly shaking on the steering wheel. Her mind was a whirlwind of what-ifs and hopes. As she parked her car and walked toward the office building, she took deep, deliberate breaths, trying to calm her racing heart.

The agency’s office was a space Lexa had become familiar with over the past weeks, but today, it seemed to hold a new form of gravity. Marlene greeted her warmly at the door, her smile reassuring.

"Clarke just arrived. She’s waiting in the meeting room," Marlene informed her, leading the way.

Lexa’s steps felt heavy yet determined as she approached the room. Marlene opened the door, and there sat Clarke, just as striking in person as she was in her photo. Her presence seemed to command the room, yet there was a softness in her eyes as she looked up and met Lexa’s gaze.

"Lexa, meet Clarke. Clarke, this is Lexa," Marlene introduced.

"Hi, Lexa," Clarke said, standing up to shake her hand. Her voice was calm, carrying a hint of warmth that eased some of Lexa's tension.

"Hello, Clarke," Lexa replied, her voice steadier than she felt. The handshake was firm and brief, but Lexa felt a surprising jolt of connection—an electric mix of nerves and excitement.

Marlene excused herself, leaving them to converse privately. "I’ll give you both some space to discuss. If you need anything, I'll be right outside," she said before closing the door gently behind her.

In the quiet confines of the meeting room, the air thick with anticipation, Lexa and Clarke faced each other. Their initial nervousness was palpable, each aware of the significance and unusual nature of their meeting. Clarke, sensing the growing tension, decided it was time to steer the conversation towards more familiar ground.

"So, Lexa," Clarke began, her tone casual yet curious, "Marlene didn't tell me much about your professional background. What do you do for a living?"

Lexa, slightly surprised by the shift towards personal details, replied, "I'm an accountant. I spend most of my days surrounded by numbers and spreadsheets."

Clarke chuckled softly, her eyes lighting up with a mix of amusement and relief at the shift to lighter conversation. "Oh, numbers and I have never been best friends. I was always the one in class who thought 'algebra' was a foreign language," she joked, a playful smile crossing her features.

Lexa found herself smiling genuinely for the first time since the meeting began, the tension easing from her shoulders. Clarke's humor and light-heartedness were infectious, and it helped Lexa feel more at ease. Encouraged by the more relaxed atmosphere, Lexa decided to learn more about Clarke's interests.

"I saw in your profile that you’re an artist," Lexa said, her tone shifting to one of genuine interest. "What kind of art do you do?"

Clarke’s face brightened at the question, clearly passionate about her craft. "I work mostly with mixed media. I love exploring textures and layers—there’s something about the tactile process of creating something tangible that really excites me. It’s a way to express emotions that words can’t always capture."

Lexa nodded, intrigued. "That sounds fascinating. Art seems like such a freeing way to express oneself."

"It really is," Clarke agreed, her enthusiasm evident. "And every piece feels like a part of me, yet once it’s done, it belongs to the world, not just to me."

Their conversation flowed more naturally now, the earlier awkwardness fading as they discussed their respective careers. Lexa felt a newfound appreciation for Clarke's artistic perspective, contrasting yet complementing her own methodical, numbers-driven approach. The dialogue not only bridged their understanding of each other’s professional lives but also built a deeper, more personal connection that eased their initial apprehensions about the arrangements ahead.

After Lexa and Clarke had spent some time getting to know each other and discussing their backgrounds, the door to the conference room opened, and Marlene re-entered, a stack of papers in hand. She approached the table with a professional smile, setting down the documents before them.

"Looks like you two have been having a good conversation," Marlene observed, taking a seat at the head of the table. She then shifted into her role as the facilitator of the process, her demeanor becoming more formal as she prepared to discuss the contracts and legalities. "I have here the draft contracts for your arrangement. Let's go through these together to ensure everything is clear and that all parties' expectations are met."

Marlene spread the documents out so both Lexa and Clarke could see them. She began to go through each section meticulously, explaining the legal jargon and what it meant in practical terms. "This section here outlines the obligations of both parties, including medical examinations, confidentiality agreements, and the planned schedule for the conception process," she explained, pointing to each clause as she spoke.

She then moved on to a critical part of the contract. "It's very important that both of you understand that this agreement is based on mutual consent and comfort levels. If at any point, for any reason, either of you feels that this arrangement isn't working out, you can withdraw from the contract." Marlene looked at both Lexa and Clarke earnestly, ensuring her point was clear. "This clause here provides the details on how to terminate the agreement respectfully and legally without facing any penalties."

Marlene paused to allow Lexa and Clarke to absorb the information, checking their faces for any signs of confusion or concern. "Do either of you have any questions about this part, or is there anything in the agreement that you would like to discuss further or modify?"

Lexa and Clarke exchanged a glance, both appreciating the agency's emphasis on their comfort and autonomy within the process. Clarke nodded, indicating she understood and appreciated the terms, "It's reassuring to know that there's flexibility if the circumstances change."

Lexa echoed Clarke’s sentiment. "Yes, I agree. It's important to have a way out if things don’t feel right. It makes the whole arrangement feel safer, more considered."

Marlene nodded, pleased with their responses. "Absolutely, we want to make sure you both feel secure and supported throughout this process." She then continued to go through the rest of the contract, covering financial arrangements, the handling of medical data, and the support services the agency would provide.

As the meeting drew to a close, Marlene handed each of them a pen. "Take your time to read through everything once more on your own. If you’re ready, you can sign today, or you can take the contracts home and think things over. We want you to make a decision when you're completely ready."

As Marlene finished outlining the terms and left the choice to sign immediately or take the contracts home for further consideration, Clarke turned her gaze towards Lexa, silently seeking her input on how to proceed. The moment was charged with significance; the decision to sign now would cement their agreement, setting them firmly on a path toward a shared, albeit unique, journey.

Lexa held Clarke’s gaze for a moment, the weight of the decision pressing down on her. She could feel the flutter of nerves in her stomach, but beneath that, a steady current of resolve. This was what she wanted, and every interaction and discussion up to this point had only solidified her confidence in her choice.

Finally, with a nod to herself, Lexa reached for the pen that Marlene had placed on the table. Her hand was steady as she picked it up, and with a decisive motion, she signed her name on the dotted line. The sound of the pen scratching against the paper seemed to echo in the room, marking a significant milestone in her journey to motherhood.

Clarke watched Lexa sign, noting the determination and clarity in her actions. Seeing Lexa make her decision with such resolve helped dispel any lingering hesitations Clarke might have had. Inspired by Lexa's confidence and encouraged by the thoroughness and fairness of the contract, Clarke picked up her own pen. With a thoughtful look at Lexa, acknowledging her readiness and mutual commitment, Clarke signed her name as well.

As they both put their pens down, a sense of relief and anticipation filled the room. Marlene, witnessing this, offered them both a warm, reassuring smile. "Thank you both for your trust and courage in this process. I’ll make sure everything is processed promptly, and I’ll be here to support you both through every step that follows."

Lexa and Clarke exchanged a look, a silent acknowledgment of the journey they had just agreed to embark on together. There was a mutual understanding that while the road ahead would be uncharted and not without its challenges, they were now linked by a shared commitment to bring a new life into the world, each in their respective roles.

As Lexa and Clarke gathered their belongings and prepared to leave the conference room, Marlene interjected with one final point of order, outlining the next steps in their newly formalized agreement.

"Before you both go, I want to discuss the logistics of your first official meeting," Marlene began, her tone shifting back to her professional demeanor. "The agency has protocols in place to ensure the safety and comfort of all parties involved, especially during initial meetings."

She pulled out a small tablet and tapped a few times on the screen, pulling up a schedule. "We prefer to arrange the meetings on neutral ground. It helps maintain privacy and provides a secure environment for both of you." Marlene looked up from her tablet, making sure she had both Lexa and Clarke’s attention.

"For this purpose, we usually arrange for a hotel room. This setting not only ensures confidentiality but also allows you both to meet in a neutral, comfortable environment without the pressures or personal biases that might come from meeting in a more personal space," Marlene explained. She assured them that the agency had longstanding arrangements with a reputable hotel chain known for its discretion and high standards of service.

"We’ll handle all the bookings and logistics. You won’t need to worry about any of the arrangements," she continued. "I’ll send you both the details and date options for your first meeting. You can choose what works best for both of you."

Marlene’s explanation provided a clear framework for how the initial stages of their agreement would proceed, emphasizing the agency’s commitment to maintaining a professional and secure process. "Safety and comfort are our top priorities. We want to ensure that both of you feel secure and at ease during your meetings."

Lexa and Clarke nodded in understanding, appreciating the thoroughness with which the agency was handling the situation. The idea of meeting in a hotel for the first few times made sense, and the agency’s attention to detail and safety was reassuring.

"Once I have everything arranged, I will send you an email with all the information, including the date, time, and location of the hotel. You will both have access to the private suite, and agency staff will be available on-call, should you need any assistance during the meeting," Marlene concluded, her tone both serious and comforting.

With everything laid out so clearly and professionally, Lexa and Clarke felt more confident about the steps ahead. They thanked Marlene for her assistance and left the office with a sense of readiness for the next phases of their journey together. The agency’s meticulous planning and support made a complex process seem manageable and secure.

As soon as Lexa got back into her car, she couldn't resist the urge to share the events of the meeting with Anya. She quickly dialed her cousin, who picked up after just a couple of rings.

"Hey, Lex, how did it go?" Anya's voice was eager but tinged with concern.

"It was... good, really good," Lexa began, her voice carrying a mix of relief and excitement. "Clarke is nothing like I expected. She’s very grounded and seems genuinely interested in making sure this works out for the best."

"Oh? And how does she look? Did she match up to her picture?" Anya asked, her tone playful yet probing.

Lexa laughed softly, a blush creeping across her cheeks even though Anya couldn’t see it. "Yes, she looks just like her photo. But her eyes, Anya, they’re this striking shade of blue. It’s almost mesmerizing."

There was a brief pause before Anya responded, her voice now carrying a note of caution. "Lex, remember this is a business arrangement. Don’t get carried away because of pretty eyes. You told me she’s there for the money, right?"

Lexa sighed, knowing Anya was just looking out for her. "Yes, I know. And yes, the financial aspect is a part of this for her, like it is for many alphas. But she doesn’t make it feel transactional, you know? She's professional but also really considerate."

Switching topics slightly, Lexa then shared more details about the arrangements that had been made for their upcoming interactions. "Marlene arranged for us to meet in a hotel. It’s a neutral place, which the agency has set up for safety and privacy. They’ve really thought of everything to make sure both parties feel secure."

Anya listened intently, her initial skepticism giving way to understanding. "That sounds sensible. They seem to be handling things very professionally. Just... be careful, Lex. I know you, and I know how easily you can get attached."

Lexa nodded to herself, taking in Anya’s advice. "I’ll be careful. I promise. I’m going into this with my eyes wide open—figuratively and literally," she added with a chuckle, trying to keep the mood light.

"Good to hear," Anya replied, her tone softening. "Keep me updated, okay? And if you need to talk, anytime, I’m here."

"Will do. Thanks, Anya. I really appreciate it," Lexa said, feeling grateful for having someone like Anya to confide in.

With that, they ended the call, and Lexa sat for a moment in the quiet of her car, reflecting on the conversation. She felt a blend of caution and excitement—a cocktail of emotions that she would need to manage carefully as she navigated this uncharted path.

Lexa stared at the computer screen, her eyes tracing over the details outlined in the email. The room at the Arkadia Hotel was booked under the agency's name, providing an added layer of privacy and discretion with the room number assigned to Lexa being "439". The preparations were meticulous, reflecting the seriousness and sensitivity of their upcoming encounter.

As she absorbed the reality of the arrangement, Lexa's mind wandered to the intricate details of alpha and omega biology—a fundamental aspect that dictated the unique way they could conceive. The biological necessity for an alpha to 'knot' during intercourse to successfully conceive was an evolutionary trait, deeply embedded in their genetics. It was a process designed to enhance the probability of conception, ensuring that during the crucial moments, the alpha's body could maximize the chance of fertilizing the omega's egg.

This biological imperative was at the forefront of Lexa's thoughts as she contemplated her meeting with Clarke. The concept was still somewhat surreal to her. On one hand, the scientific aspect of it made sense, and she respected the biological processes involved. On the other hand, facing the reality of engaging intimately with someone who was essentially a stranger, even with mutual agreement and understanding, was daunting.

The part of Lexa that hesitated wasn't concerned with the logistics or the biological necessities—those were facts she had come to terms with when she decided on this path. Instead, it was the emotional aspect, the vulnerability of sharing such a personal experience with someone she hadn't known long. Yet, despite these reservations, the stronger part of her—the part driven by her deep desire to become a mother—was prepared to move forward.

As she sat there, Lexa reminded herself why she had chosen this path. It wasn't just about fulfilling her desire to have a child; it was about doing so in a way that felt right to her, under terms she had carefully considered and agreed upon. Clarke, too, had her reasons for participating, and their prior meeting had laid a foundation of mutual respect and understanding.

With each passing moment, Lexa's resolve grew stronger. She knew that the biological processes were just one part of the equation. The more significant component was her readiness to embrace the responsibilities and joys of motherhood. By the time she closed her laptop, Lexa felt a quiet confidence. She was ready for Saturday—not just to meet the biological demands of the process, but to take a significant step towards a future she had long envisioned for herself.

Lexa arrived at the Arkadia Hotel promptly at 4 PM, her heart pounding with a mixture of nerves and resolve. The hotel's lobby was bustling with activity, but she navigated through it with a sense of purpose, her focus fixed on the task ahead. At the front desk, she confirmed her identity discreetly, referring only to the reservation number and the agency's name. The clerk handed her a key card with a polite, professional smile that didn't probe too deeply into the reasons for her stay.

With key card in hand, Lexa made her way to her room, her steps measured and her mind racing. The hallways of the hotel were elegantly carpeted and softly lit, creating an atmosphere of privacy and tranquility that helped soothe her escalating anxiety. Each step brought her closer to a moment that might very well define her future.

Standing before the door marked with the number 439, Lexa paused, her hand hovering over the key card reader. She knew that behind this door, preparations would need to be made, both mentally and physically, before Clarke's arrival. The agency had arranged for Clarke to arrive later, giving Lexa ample time to acclimate to the environment, to settle her thoughts, and to prepare herself emotionally and physically for what was to come.

All she had to do was swipe the key card and step inside. Taking a deep breath, Lexa steadied her trembling hand and slid the card through the reader. The light blinked green, and a soft click signaled her access. Pushing the door open, she stepped into the room.

The room was tastefully decorated, neutral tones and soft lighting crafting a calming environment. There was an understated elegance to it, conducive to both comfort and privacy. Lexa let her gaze sweep over the space—the king bed, the sitting area with its inviting sofa, and a small work desk that faced a large window with curtains drawn.

Closing the door behind her, Lexa allowed herself a few moments to just stand and absorb the reality of her surroundings. This was the setting where she hoped her dream of motherhood would begin to materialize. It felt surreal, yet incredibly real at the same time.

She placed her small overnight bag on the bed, unpacking a few personal items to make the space feel more familiar. Lexa then spent some time simply sitting on the edge of the bed, collecting her thoughts. She reflected on her journey to this point—the decisions made, the fears confronted, and the hopes cherished.

As the time ticked closer to 6 PM, Lexa prepared herself, changing into something comfortable yet appropriate for the occasion. She reminded herself why she was here, focusing on the positive outcomes she hoped to achieve. This was about more than just the mechanics of conception; it was about taking control of her destiny and shaping the future she desired.

By the time Lexa heard a knock at the door just after 6 PM, signaling Clarke’s arrival, she felt a renewed sense of purpose and clarity. She was ready to open the door, not just to Clarke, but to the possibilities that lay ahead.

Lexa walked to the door, taking a deep breath to steady her nerves. She reached out, her hand almost trembling as she turned the handle. The door swung open, and there stood Clarke, her presence as compelling in person as it had been in their previous meeting. Clarke offered Lexa a shy, somewhat tentative smile—a softening of her usually confident demeanor that made her seem more approachable in this intensely personal setting.

"Hi, Lexa," Clarke greeted with a quiet warmth, her voice carrying a hint of nervous anticipation.

"Hello, Clarke. Come in," Lexa replied, stepping aside to allow Clarke entry into the room. Her heart was beating fast, but she managed to maintain a composed exterior.

Clarke stepped past the threshold, her eyes quickly scanning the room as she entered. The soft lighting and tasteful decor seemed to impress her, and a small, appreciative smile appeared on her face. "This is a nice room," she commented, her tone carrying genuine approval. "The agency really does ensure comfort, don't they?"

"Yes, they do," Lexa responded, closing the door behind Clarke. She felt a slight relief that the initial moment of greeting was over, and now they could proceed with the reason they were both there. "They try to make this as comfortable as possible for everyone involved."

Clarke nodded, setting down a small bag she had brought with her. She looked around, taking in the environment that would play a significant role in the next steps they were about to take. The room, was designed to be calming, a sanctuary from the outside world and the weight of the decisions made within its confines.

Turning back to Lexa, Clarke's initial shyness seemed to melt away slightly as she became more accustomed to the setting. "I appreciate the effort to make everything feel serene. It helps," she admitted, meeting Lexa’s eyes with a more steady gaze.

Lexa nodded, feeling a similar gratitude for the care taken to create a space that respected the gravity of their meeting. "I agree. It makes things a little easier," she said, managing a small smile.

There was a brief pause as both women acknowledged the situation, the room serving as a silent witness to their agreement and the hopes tied to it. Then, almost instinctively, Lexa gestured towards the small sitting area. "Would you like something to drink? Maybe some water or coffee before we... start?"

Clarke agreed, appreciating the offer to ease into the moment more gently. "Water would be great, thank you," she said, her voice steady but still carrying a trace of the nerves they both felt.

As Lexa went to get the water, the air between them filled with a quiet acknowledgment of the partnership they were about to embark upon, each aware of the significance of their actions, yet comforted by the shared understanding and the meticulously arranged environment that surrounded them.

Clarke made her way to the sofa, settling into the soft cushions with a slight exhale that betrayed her underlying nervousness. Lexa opened the mini-fridge, retrieving a bottle of water which she handed to Clarke with a gentle, reassuring smile. The small, ordinary gesture seemed to anchor them both amidst the swirling emotions of the occasion.

Lexa lingered by the edge of the sitting area, her hands clasped in front of her, unsure of her next move. The room, while comfortable and inviting, suddenly felt too vast, filled with unspoken expectations and the weight of their impending decision.

Clarke noticed Lexa's hesitation and patted the space next to her on the sofa. "Why don't you sit here?" she suggested, her voice carrying a soft but clear invitation. "It might be more comfortable to talk this way."

Lexa nodded, grateful for Clarke's lead. She moved to the sofa, taking a seat at a respectful distance that still allowed for private conversation. She could feel the warmth of Clarke's presence beside her, a comforting reminder that they were in this together.

Once settled, Clarke unscrewed the cap of her water bottle and took a sip, then turned slightly to face Lexa. She initiated some light conversation, perhaps recognizing the need to ease into the deeper discussions that lay ahead. "So, how was your day before coming here? Anything interesting happen?"

Lexa took a moment to switch gears from the intense internal monologue she had been engaged in all day. "Oh, it was pretty routine," she replied, managing a small chuckle. "Just some last-minute work stuff and mentally preparing for today. What about you? Did you find time to do any art today?"

Clarke shook her head, a rueful smile playing on her lips. "Not today, unfortunately. But I did spend some time in the studio yesterday. It helps clear my mind, you know?"

"Yeah, I can imagine," Lexa responded, feeling the conversation begin to flow more naturally between them. "Art seems like a great way to express and maybe even sort through feelings, especially with everything that's going on."

Clarke nodded, visibly relaxed as the topic turned to her passion for art. "Exactly. It's not just about creating something beautiful or interesting. It's also therapeutic. It gives me a space to process things—a bit like an escape, but also a way to confront emotions directly."

As they continued talking, the atmosphere between Lexa and Clarke began to shift subtly. Clarke's discussion about her art opened a window into her inner world, showing Lexa the passion and depth that motivated her work. The conversation seemed to flow effortlessly now, with each topic leading seamlessly into the next, covering everything from favorite artists to the influence of different art forms on society.

The air lightened around them, filled with shared laughter and nods of understanding, as the initial awkwardness melted away under the warmth of genuine connection. They found common ground in unexpected places and differed in others, which only added layers to their interaction, making it richer, more textured.

About 30 minutes into their conversation, as they were discussing the emotional power of color in visual art, Clarke reached out and gently took Lexa's hand. Lexa felt a sudden impulse to retract her hand, startled by the unexpected contact. The moment hung between them, charged with the potential for deeper connection or withdrawal. But as she met Clarke’s eyes, Lexa saw the intention there—soft, unassuming, aiming to add a layer of intimacy and reassurance to their conversation.

Understanding Clarke’s gesture as an effort to bridge the gap between them further, Lexa relaxed and allowed her hand to stay in Clarke’s gentle grasp. The touch was comforting, grounding, and it brought a new level of openness to their dialogue.

Clarke’s thumb brushed lightly over Lexa’s hand, a soothing motion that seemed to anchor them both more firmly in the present moment. "Art is my way of understanding the world, and sometimes of escaping it," Clarke shared, her voice soft but resonant. "It's personal, yes, but sharing it feels like extending a part of myself to others, hoping they might understand or feel something too."

Lexa nodded, feeling the truth of those words resonate within her. "I think that's brave—putting a piece of yourself into your work and then putting it out there for the world to see and experience."

The atmosphere between Lexa and Clarke thickened with unspoken promises as the moments stretched on, each second building upon the last. Clarke's gaze intensified, conveying a mix of curiosity and boldness as she leaned in closer to Lexa. Her movements were deliberate, aimed at closing the distance between them with a cautious yet clear intent. When their eyes met, there was a silent exchange, a question posed and an answer given without words.

Clarke's lips touched Lexa's softly at first, a gentle test of boundaries that was sweet and tentative. The world around them seemed to pause, holding its breath along with them. Lexa's response was subtle but encouraging, enough to spur Clarke on. Pulling back slightly, Clarke searched Lexa’s eyes once more, seeking reassurance. What she found was a quiet acceptance, a willingness to explore the emotions that were beginning to simmer between them.

Emboldened by Lexa's silent affirmation, Clarke leaned in once more, this time with a firmer resolve. Her lips met Lexa's with more purpose, conveying a deeper intent. The kiss deepened, driven by a blend of newfound affection and a shared desire to discover more about each other through this new, unspoken language.

As the intensity of their kisses grew, so did their need for each other's closeness. The initial cautious exploration gave way to a more passionate expression of their burgeoning connection. Clarke’s hands found their way to Lexa's cheeks, holding her gently yet firmly, anchoring her as they navigated this new terrain together. Lexa responded in kind, her hands threading through Clarke's hair, pulling her closer, deepening their embrace.

The kisses evolved, becoming a profound dialogue of their lips and breaths, each kiss building upon the last, growing more fervent, more insistent. The connection sparked between them ignited something deeper, a flame that had been cautiously kindled now threatening to burn brightly.

Eventually, the need for air forced them apart, and they pulled back, each catching their breath, their foreheads resting against each other. Their breaths mingled in the small space between them, heavy and warm. The room around them came back into focus slowly, the sounds of the city beyond the walls creeping back into their awareness.

Clarke and Lexa remained close, neither willing to break the connection entirely. Their eyes met again, this time reflecting a mix of wonder and a hint of vulnerability after sharing such a potent moment. The initial purpose of their arrangement still loomed in the background, but what had transpired between them now added a profound layer of intimacy and complexity to their relationship. This was no longer just about an agreement or a process—it was about them, here and now, together in a way that was unexpectedly profound.

In the quiet aftermath of their breathless exchange, the air between Clarke and Lexa was charged with a new, palpable energy. Clarke, sensing the shift in their dynamic, slowly stood up from the sofa. There was a silent invitation in her posture, a gentle yet unmistakable beckoning as she extended her hand toward Lexa.

Lexa watched Clarke's movement, a myriad of emotions flickering across her face. There was a moment of hesitation, a brief internal debate visible in her eyes as she considered Clarke's offered hand. It symbolized more than just a physical gesture; it was an invitation to continue exploring the depth of connection they had unexpectedly discovered.

With a subtle nod to herself, as if making a decision, Lexa placed her hand in Clarke’s. The contact was electric, reigniting the spark that had flared between them moments before. Pulled by a force that felt both thrilling and inevitable, Lexa stood, bringing her face to face with Clarke once again.

They stood there, hand in hand, close enough to feel each other's breath. The world around them seemed to fade, narrowing down to the space they shared. Lexa's eyes locked onto Clarke's, searching, questioning, and finding answers in the deep blue that stared back at her with an intensity that matched her own.

Without breaking eye contact, Clarke leaned in, her movements deliberate and full of intention. Lexa’s breath hitched, her body and mind anticipating the contact that was to come. As their lips met again, the kiss was different from the ones before. This time it was charged with the energy of standing together, of the decision to step into this space as equals, partners in whatever was unfolding between them.

The kiss deepened naturally, their bodies instinctively moving closer until they were embracing fully, the world around them completely forgotten. Clarke's hands moved to Lexa’s lower back, pulling her closer, while Lexa’s arms wrapped around Clarke’s neck, anchoring herself to the moment, to Clarke.

In that kiss, they communicated more than could be expressed in words. It was a promise, a commitment not just to the process they were undertaking but an acknowledgment of the vulnerability and strength found in true intimacy.

As the intensity of their kisses deepened, Clarke gently guided Lexa towards the bed, their hands intertwined, conveying trust and mutual desire. The steps were few but filled with anticipation, each one marking a deeper commitment to the moment and to each other. As they reached the edge of the bed, their lips barely parted, sustaining the connection that had now become their world.

Standing beside the bed, Clarke’s hands slowly found the edge of Lexa’s shirt. Each touch was careful, measured, filled with an unspoken question that Lexa answered with a slight nod, a breathless "yes" whispered between kisses. Clarke’s fingers trembled slightly—not with hesitation but with the gravity of the moment, aware of the trust Lexa was placing in her.

With each piece of clothing that Clarke gently removed, Lexa felt a layer of her defenses dissolve, not just exposing her skin but opening up deeper parts of herself. Clarke’s touch was reverent, filled with care and attentiveness that spoke volumes. She took her time, ensuring that each movement, each kiss that followed the removal of a garment, honored the vulnerability and strength Lexa displayed.

Lexa, for her part, felt an overwhelming sense of being cared for. It was not just the physical undressing but the way Clarke managed every action with such gentleness—it made her feel cherished in a way she hadn’t anticipated in this arrangement. Each kiss Clarke planted on her newly exposed skin wasn't just sensual but comforting, affirming their connection and Clarke’s respect for her.

As Lexa stood there, with Clarke’s hands skillfully and tenderly ensuring her comfort, she found herself more assured with each passing second. The vulnerability of being undressed was overshadowed by the security Clarke’s demeanor provided. It was a strange, beautiful dichotomy—standing there exposed yet feeling entirely safe.

When Lexa was finally free of her clothing, Clarke paused, giving her a moment to adjust. She looked into Lexa’s eyes, seeking any signs of discomfort or withdrawal. Seeing none, only a quiet gratitude and trust, Clarke leaned in for another kiss, this one conveying her appreciation for Lexa’s trust.

They moved together onto the bed, their movements synchronized, a dance guided by mutual understanding and the desire to maintain the emotional connection that had become as vital as their physical one.

As they shifted together on the soft expanse of the bed, Clarke carefully positioned herself between Lexa's legs. The air around them was thick with anticipation, yet Clarke made no immediate move to continue. Instead, she paused, her eyes lifting to meet Lexa's in a silent, searching communication. The intensity of her gaze was soft but intent, probing gently for any sign of hesitation or uncertainty in Lexa's expression.

Lexa, feeling Clarke’s gaze upon her, understood the unspoken question hanging between them. The world seemed to hold its breath as she considered her feelings, the warmth of Clarke's body an anchoring presence. In Clarke's eyes, she saw not just desire but a profound care and patience. It was clear Clarke was ready to stop at the slightest hint of reluctance, ready to put Lexa’s emotional well-being above all else.

Feeling a surge of trust and a deep, affirming connection to Clarke, Lexa reached up, her hand gently caressing Clarke’s cheek. Her touch was tender, meant to reassure as much as to give consent. With a soft smile that spoke volumes, Lexa nodded slightly, her eyes conveying her readiness and appreciation for Clarke’s considerate approach.

Clarke, receiving the clear, affirmative response she had sought, allowed a relieved and grateful smile to curve her lips. But still, she moved slowly, maintaining eye contact as she gradually resumed closing the distance between them. Her actions were deliberate and unhurried, ensuring Lexa remained comfortable.

As they lay together on the bed, the world outside the soft cocoon of their room seemed distant and unimportant. Clarke's kisses were tender and deliberate, focusing solely on Lexa's lips with a gentle insistence that spoke volumes. Each touch was filled with the silent communication that had become their language—a language of looks that asked and answered without words.

Clarke, ever attentive to Lexa's comfort and readiness, made no attempt to escalate beyond their kissing. She was content to explore the contours of Lexa's lips, the soft exchanges grounding and deepening their connection. The slow, purposeful pace she set was like a melody, soft and rhythmic, designed to soothe and affirm.

Lexa, enveloped in the warmth of Clarke's nearness, felt a blossoming desire to move forward, driven not just by physical need but by the emotional intimacy they were weaving with each kiss. Feeling a growing urgency, Lexa began to gently shift her hips beneath Clarke, a subtle movement but a clear indication of her readiness to deepen their physical connection. Her movements were hesitant at first, testing Clarke’s response, seeking to communicate her desires without disrupting the harmony of their current engagement.

Clarke, ever so perceptive to Lexa’s cues, felt the gentle undulation of Lexa's hips against her. She paused, their lips parting slightly as she sought Lexa's eyes. In them, Clarke found not just the green light she needed but a spark of deeper desire, a silent plea to bridge the gap between affection and passion.

Sensing Lexa's readiness, Clarke allowed a moment for them both to acknowledge the shift in their dynamic. She gave a small, affirming smile, her hands framing Lexa's face as if to say she understood, and she was there with her, every step of the way.

Encouraged by Lexa's clear communication, Clarke deepened their kiss, her movements becoming more assured, more aligned with the rising tide of their desires. Her hands, which had been content to cradle Lexa’s face, now wandered with purpose, tracing paths down her neck and shoulders, mapping the terrain of her skin with a reverent touch.

Lexa responded in kind, her own hands exploring Clarke’s back, pulling her closer, reducing the space between them to nothing. Their movements became a dance, a give and take that spoke of mutual desire —a dance that promised to carry them forward into the next chapter of their night together.

As the depth of their connection grew more intense, Clarke remained acutely aware of the trust Lexa had placed in her. With every move she made, Clarke was considerate, her actions measured and gentle to ensure she maintained the sanctity of that trust. When the moment came to deepen their physical connection further, Clarke approached it with a profound sense of responsibility and care.

With a reassuring look into Lexa's eyes, Clarke sought silent permission to continue, waiting for a nod of assent before proceeding. Lexa's response, a soft affirmation accompanied by a nervous but trusting smile, gave Clarke the green light she needed. Very slowly, Clarke began to slide closer, merging their bodies in the most intimate of ways.

Clarke's movements were slow, almost painstakingly so, as she carefully navigated this new level of closeness. She was acutely conscious of Lexa's reactions, watching her face for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. As Clarke gradually slid into Lexa, she made sure to control her movements, giving Lexa time to adjust to the new sensations.

"Are you alright?" Clarke whispered, her voice low and soothing.

Lexa, feeling the care with which Clarke moved, nodded, her initial tension easing under Clarke's attentive gaze. "Yes," she breathed out, a hint of relief in her voice as she found the sensation different but not unpleasant, her body slowly adapting to Clarke's presence.

Clarke paused, allowing Lexa a moment to get accustomed to the feeling, her hand gently caressing Lexa's arm in a comforting gesture. The room was filled with a tense but tender energy, each aware of the significance of the moment.

As Lexa relaxed more, Clarke continued, still cautious, moving in a rhythm dictated by Lexa's responses. Every slight adjustment, every careful motion was made with Lexa’s comfort in mind. Clarke’s focus was entirely on Lexa, ensuring that her experience was as gentle and loving as possible.

As Clarke and Lexa continued their intimate connection, the intensity of their movements gradually built up. Clarke, ever attentive to Lexa's comfort and reactions, had initially maintained a slow and gentle rhythm, ensuring that every motion was measured and considerate. However, as the moments passed, the natural progression of their physical responses began to drive the pace.

Clarke could feel the building pressure of her own impending release, a physical response that would soon reach its peak. She knew it was crucial for Lexa to be ready for her knot. This required a careful balance, speeding up her movements to match the escalating intensity while ensuring Lexa was not overwhelmed.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves and focus her intentions, Clarke began to gradually increase the rhythm of her hips, her movements becoming more deliberate. "Lexa," she murmured softly, her voice a blend of desire and concern, "I'm getting close. Just let me know if you need me to slow down, okay?"

Lexa, caught up in the rising tide of sensation, nodded, her breath coming in quicker gasps. She placed her hands on Clarke's hips, a silent signal of her engagement and readiness. Lexa's eyes, wide and focused, locked with Clarke's, communicating her trust and willingness to continue.

Clarke, reassured by Lexa's response, carefully monitored her own body's signals while also watching Lexa's reactions closely. She adjusted her movements, aligning them with Lexa's subtle cues and the increasing demands of her own body. The tempo of her hips quickened in a controlled manner, each thrust deeper and more purposeful.

As Clarke navigated this critical juncture, her focus was split between her own physiological responses and Lexa's comfort. She was acutely aware of the importance of timing and coordination in this moment for achieving their goal.

The air hummed with the rhythm of their synchronized breaths, the faint whisper of skin gliding against skin. Clarke felt the imminent onset of her climax, the pressure mounting inexorably. She continued to move with a mixture of urgency and care, prepared to guide both herself and Lexa through the intensity of the experience.

Their connection, both physical and emotional, had deepened throughout their encounter, each moment building upon the last to create a profound bond. As Clarke approached her peak, she held Lexa's gaze, seeking and finding the reassurance she needed to let go, trusting that Lexa was with her every step of the way.

As the crescendo of Clarke's movements reached its peak, the inevitable moment of release washed over her with overwhelming intensity. Her body tensed, every muscle straining under the force of her climax. The world narrowed to the profound connection between them, a visceral link that pulsed with each beat of her heart.

Overwhelmed by the surge of sensations, Clarke's strength waned, and she could no longer support herself. Gently, she collapsed onto Lexa, her breath ragged and heavy, echoing in the quiet of the room. Her body molded against Lexa's, a perfect fit that spoke volumes of their physical and emotional synchrony throughout this intimate journey.

After her release, Clarke sought to maintain their closeness, turning her face towards Lexa's neck. She pressed soft kisses there, near Lexa's pulse point where she could feel the rapid beat of Lexa's heart against her lips. Clarke’s breath warmed Lexa’s skin, her exhales becoming slower and more measured as she gradually regained her composure.

The room was filled with a palpable sense of completion and tranquility, the lingering tension dissolving into a peaceful stillness. Lexa murmured gently into Clarke's ear, her voice low and soothing, "Thank you," a simple phrase that carried the weight of her appreciation for Clarke’s participation in such a profound moment.

Lexa, feeling Clarke's weight comfortably against her, wrapped her arms around Clarke, holding her close. She responded in kind, her own breathing syncing with Clarke’s as they both relaxed into the afterglow. Lexa’s fingers trailed softly down Clarke’s back, grounding her with gentle, reassuring touches that conveyed her own deep sense of connection and care.

#my writing

41 notes · View notes

clumsykleptorocketscientist · 5 months

Text

The Winchester Family: A Rant

Can I just say that Sheriff Jody Mills was more of a mother to Sam and Dean Winchester more than Mary ever was, even after Amara brought her back. Like I guess no hate to Mary...? But like isn't the whole thing about the Winchesters is that family isn't just blood. They developed wayy closer bonds than the ones with Mary, and I know it isn't necessarily her fault, but she wasn't there. Like I dunno, I just wasn't in love with Mary coming back, especially since when she did come back, it seemed like she saw they were grown up and like, didn't care..? Like it felt like she went "oh my job is done these are just two grown dudes that I gave birth to once." Like I know its a weird situation, but as a person who grew up watching Once Upon a Time, where like almost the same thing happened, with Snow, David, and Emma, I can't help but compare their reactions and Mary just didn't stack up.

Snow and David were so ecstatic to see Emma and tried so hard to make up for lost time and parent her as much as they could. They kept trying even as Emma pushed them away saying she was grown and that her and her parents were technically the same age. Throughout the show they found a way to still be her parents while still acknowledging she was grown. It was really beautiful to see, but in comparison Mary did not stack up.

Yes, she is a badass, and, yes, her identity should not solely surround her being the boys' mother, but that doesn't mean she shouldn't be a mother at all. It would've been nice to see her figure out a way to strike the balance the Snow and David did, and I never got that vibe. In Supernatural, it seemed the opposite. It was Dean and Sam trying to be her sons and she pushed them away for the same reasons. I'm not saying she was a bad person, or even a bad mother, as it was a really weird situation and I can't necessarily blame her for how she dealt with it. What I AM saying, though, is that her name had no right to be carved onto that table. Point. Blank. Period.

Also, by the way, since I'm complaining, that weird episode with the pearl thing that let John Winchester come back so they could have a family dinner?????? As if that could truly be what Dean desired. Are you fucking kidding me. John sucked, made them both feel like shit, abused them, and yet that was the "family dinner" we got. It's been a while since I watched the show, so Idk a timeline, but screw the timeline for a sec. Across the entire show, a true family dinner would be Dean and Cas with their son Jack, Sam as the Uncle with Eileen, Bobby and Jody as the Dean and Sam's parents (because, unlike Mary, I very much feel like Jody struck that balance even though they weren't her actual sons) and Jody's brigade of wayward sisters trailing behind her, Donna as like the step-mother or aunt (Idk how Donna fits, I just LOVE Donna), and Charlie as Sam and Dean's little sister. Jo, Ellen, and Ash pop in with Rufus as those family members that are close, but you can't quite pinpoint how exactly you're related to them. Bonus: Kevin and Linda Tran come over like friendly neighbors because, even though they have a family of their own, the Trans are definitely close to the Winchesters, though, whether they like it or not. As much as I'd like to add Adam (to make up for him being left in the pit), I have a feeling he wouldn't want to. He seemed like a guy who refused to subscribe to the idea that because they were blood, they were family. (Maybe Sam and Dean should've learned a thing or two).

TL;DR:

Sam and Dean had a much bigger, and better, family then just John and Mary, but it was never really acknowledged fully and in the best way.

#supernatural #mary winchester #sam winchester #dean winchester #jack winchester #castiel #jody mills #claire novak #charlie bradbury #jo harvelle #ellen harvelle #Ash #rufus turner #bobby singer #john winchester #kevin tran #linda tran

33 notes · View notes

majesticwren · 6 months

Text

here we go with part III. It's 12k of unhinged feral energy; be advised, this entire project is done solely for my pleasure, I am indulging myself so much with this. I just needed to write will and fletch and had to create this stuff. the angst that it carries (because yes there will be more coming - I am very good very evil) it's the energy I crave please don't come for me and trust the process I'll feed you smut. I am planning shit loads of fluff too but it will be a rollercoaster overall. it is edited but not proofread. enjoy. a/n: hi :) me again back at it. I didn't like the first draft of this so I finally went back in and made it a little extra poly/gay with some more chemistry between kyle and will because I needed it. thank you bye 💕

trigger warning/s: angst angst angst, poly relationship dynamics, reference to sex, reference to threesome, shit loads of misunderstandings and miscommunication, swearing, jealousy and mild possessiveness, OFC is unhinged and is her own trigger warning - she can't deal with her healthy relationship and leaps into self destruction, smut!, threesome, unprotected sex (kids, know your sexed! this is not an example is a fanfic use your condoms) daddy and praise kinks, chocking, dirty talk, binding, kyle is very dom and will likes to be called daddy but he is also a sub in here, don't come for me

<- part I | <- Part II prequel part I -> | part II -> | part III -> | part IV -> Masterlist

The party was proceeding. She couldn’t say it was going well, but it was going. The two-dozen people they invited were enjoying themselves at least. They were mostly Mark’s friends, which included old colleagues from RevPro and a few other people they got to know in the years they lived in the city, plus a handful of Erika and Kyle’s friends, just for variety. Food and drinks served. Music and chattering filled the room as people gathered and mingled. On the surface, everything seemed good.

It did feel like the longest time of her life though.

When Kyle and Mark arrived, she felt able to breathe for the first time. Grateful, mostly for the unaware support their arrival granted her, Erika leaped into her brother’s arms, clinging onto his solar, happy energy and protection to feel shielded.

Everything was fine, she kept reminding herself.

“I am so happy to see you,” she whispered into Mark’s ear as he lifted her up, bear hugging her.

“I missed you too, little menace,” he chuckled. “Let me look at ya’,” Mark handled her like she weighed nothing, lifting her so he could look at her face, “Yep, still the same little gremlin.”

Erika hugged him some more, finding refuge into his chest. “You gotta tell me all about the news from back home,”

“Ah, you know, always the usual. Mum misses you so much, she cried a lot. It’s kinda hard to watch sometimes. Dad on the other side is unaware as usual. He has finished building the shed though!”

“Are you joking!? You mean the shed?”

Mark nodded as a massive smile nested on his lips. “Oh, yes, baby. Fucking mental.”

“I knew early retirement would have done him good!”

“God,” Mark chuckled, “Brace yourself because now he needs a new project.”

“Oh, god,” she chuckled with him.

Erika knew seeing Mark was everything she needed to feel better. Saying she had missed him wasn’t enough. She could already feel herself healing inside. Her pain wasn’t disappearing, but there was a light that was shining in her now. Mark was always able to pick her up in a way not even Kyle could. Her brother had always been her biggest support system and best friend. But he was more than that. He saw her growing up. Helped her through her lowest and loved her regardless, even when others had given up on her. He was the part of her family she couldn’t bear to live apart.

“Listen, listen, I’ve got a good one for you.” Continued Mark, excitement glimmering through his eyes. He was clearly equally happy to see her. “Auntie Janice has a thirty-two-year boyfriend. Which is weird. I’ve met him. Nice bloke. But he’s basically my age so, weird.”

“Ugh,” she shivered, trying to shake off the repulsive thought of her aunt in a relationship with a guy half her age. “She is mental.”

“Firecracker,” Mark chuckled, “Oh and Virna got married.”

“Virna? Your high school sweetheart and my babysitter Virna?”

“Yes.”

“The crazy Virna that still tries to hook up with you any time you are back home?”

“That’s the one!”

“Did you go break her heart?” Erika wondered pocking his cheek only causing Mark to melt in a loud burst of laughter.

“Of course I did, gotta keep up our family tradition of stealing hearts. Fucked her and then her husband-to-be,” Mark smiled all proud and unashamed, only causing her to shake her head.

“And you call me a menace, Mr?”

Mark was still laughing wholeheartedly as he put her down, to which point it was Kyle’s turn to pull her into a hug she didn’t refuse. She nuzzled into his chest, magnetically attracted to him. Erika inhaled his scent deep into her lungs, wishing she could travel in the future, to when everyone would be gone and she could find soothe in his arms.

“I am sorry for before,” he whispered to her ear before kissing her forehead.

Erika shook her head sliding her arms around his waist, looking for contact in a way that was more than habit, by now. It was natural. “Don’t be. I am sorry.”

Kyle looked down into her eyes, cupping her face into his palms. His touch was soft and warm. He didn’t only pick up her gaze, but her entire spirit too. He studied her features with a gentle smile curling his full lips, “I love you.” He reminded her, “and you look beautiful,”

“Thank you, you are not bad either” she melted into a smile looking him up and down, “I love you too.” She then said, popping up on her tippytoes to kiss him.

“Everything ok?” He wondered after, checking the place out.

Erika nodded, lying, pushing all that had happened in the back of her mind. “Yes. Why wouldn’t it be?”

Kyle answered looking for Will, who was taking his time to welcome Mark with a big hug and heavy pats on the back. “Welcome home, bruv. ‘Was starting missing you ‘round here.”

“I’m so back, mate. How the hell are you?”

Erika did her best to ignore their conversation. It was so difficult for her to hate Will when he was so affectionate with her brother. Or with Kyle.

After that, Erika spent most of her time hanging around Mark but would leave anytime Will approached them, granting him the chance to spend time with his best friend. She did the same thing when it was about Kyle, leaving him to have some fun with Mark and Will and just mingling with the rest of their friends.

But she should have assumed she wouldn’t have been allowed to hide for long.

“What’s happening between you and Will?” Wondered suddenly Mark as she went for a refill on her wine. Surprisingly, she hadn’t given into the booze. But she did sip on some wine to grant her some liquid courage to survive the evening.

Erika choked and cleared her voice, looking up at her brother. “What do you mean?” She tried to play coy, smiling at the catering attendant who served her.

Mark read right through her pretending and whipped a wise smile, taking the piss out of her. “What would I ever mean!?” He wondered jokingly, “Do you think I was born yesterday, little one?”

Erika huffed and, taking a sip of her wine, she looked through the room, directly searching for Will. He was chatting to Kyle and a couple of her friends about something. They laughed. Will grabbed Kyle by the nape of the neck and pulled him under his arm, showing him off. They both had such a big smile printed on their faces, glimmering eyes and blushed cheeks. Her heart skipped a beat.

It was so unfair.

I wish l never met you.

Her own terrible words echoed into her mind, making her cringe to the thought of what their reality had become.

She was the extra piece. She was the sore, exposed nerve that didn’t work. Will had no problem with either Kyle or Mark and if she dared to explain what was happening between them, she was terrified of the consequences for the trio.

“Nothing.” She looked back, shrugging, “We just didn’t see eye to eye on something.”

“And for that reason, you aren’t talking or sharing the same square meter of space?”

“Yep.”

Mark lowered himself to her heigh and studied her features closely. “Nah. Don’t believe you. What did you disagree about?”

“The canapés.” She lied, pulling a kiss-ass smile. Mark read right through her, might as well not even try to make up a good lie.

“Fuck off,” he chuckled, “I don’t believe you for a second.”

Erika pointed at herself and her big glass of white wine. “Do I look like someone who wants to talk about the only person I am avoiding at the party?”

“Oh, so you are avoiding him,” Mark looked back at Will, this time his curiosity was undeniable, whereas, for her, she had nothing but melancholy when she looked at him.

This time, as if she had called him, Will was looking in their direction. They made eye contact. Erika didn’t look back, she challenged him raising her chin. He was going to be the one looking down if he so despised her. Though Will didn’t.

Mark replied with something else but she wasn’t listening anymore.

Time slowed down while she was hooked on Will’s gaze and wasn’t able to let go. For only a moment, she thought she had seen the spark of interest in his eyes. But she was sure she was imagining things; it was gone in a heartbeat. Still, he didn’t look away either.

He smiled at one of the two girls. She had her hand on his bicep and was laughing at something he had said. Will leaned in, saying something into her ear. His gaze didn’t move from Erika's.

She had never been the jealous type. Never once in her life. But she was now.

“That sure looks like nothing, dude,” Mark poked her, thought this time he wasn’t amused but puzzled. Erika quickly looked back up at him but he was busy scrutinising Will’s behaviour. “What’s going on, Erika?”

“Everyone’s favourite question,” she smiled sarcastically behind the rim of her glass, taking a sip of wine. “We argued. End of story. Let it go Mark.”

She should have known Mark wouldn’t have let it go, for the life of her. He was only able to fix things. Especially when it involved her. He was the protector, and knowing something was wrong wasn’t something he could ignore, ever. But he at least accepted her request momentarily.

“Wanna do shots and then dig into those mini sausage rolls?” He offered instead.

“Hell yeah, let’s see if I can still beat you at not making faces as I down straight vodka.”

“You are on, I’ve trained for this moment,” Mark rubbed his hands together.

“C’mon old man,” she giggled.

It was nice. Pleasant. For a little while, she allowed herself to celebrate her brother without thinking about the rest.

They took two shots of vodka each and then proceeded to down countless tiny sausage rolls each, all the while Mark was ready to fill her up with stories from home.

Maybe, if the evening had continued that way, she thought she’d be able to make it, after all. Sounded nice. Not the win she wanted but a win all the same.

“You should really consider popping back home as soon as your schedule clears,”

“I wish,” she huffed, “I’ve got back-to-back events from now to September with AEW, RevPro and Japan. Summer season is always busy.”

“Ok,” Mark nodded, “you do not have to take a month's break like I did. Japan is an awful close home if you want to pop down for a couple of days. Everyone would love to see you.”

She felt slightly uncomfortable with the idea. She loved her family, there were many reasons why she was grateful to them. But she was also a very different person now from the girl she was at nineteen when she left Australia. She didn’t like going back because it often reminded her about all the wrong she had done and everything she had messed up and missed because she was a difficult teenager.

Just like he could read her mind, Mark patted her back affectionately, “I know, I am sorry. I had to say it. Mum would love to see you.”

“I know, I know. It’s just I don’t know how to carry myself with pride around there. Here or while I work it’s different. But back home?”

“Back home you are one of the most famous people they’d know! Your name has been published, and the pictures you take are in magazines and on many companies’ socials and promos. There’s nothing you need to be ashamed of anymore.”

“Ah, on that I disagree.” Erika leaned her head on Mark’s shoulder, releasing a small huff, “But you are right. Maybe as soon as Kyle can take a couple of days off too.”

“Sure you want to bring him home with you?”

“Yeah? Why?” She suspiciously looked up at her brother, “They’ve known and loved Kyle for ages! What do you know I don’t?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he tapped his fingers on his chin. “Although mum wants grandchildren so expect the conversation from her.”

Erika chuckled and threw a soft punch at his shoulder, shaking her head. “You are unbelievable! Why do I have to have this conversation? I’m only a little girl! Look at you, thirty-two, strong, handsome famous and still a scoundrel.”

“Which is why the pressure is on you. You and Kyle have been together what? Five years now?”

“And we love our childless life, thank you.”

Mark raised his hands in the air, trying his best to appear as innocent as possible. “Hey, I am just the messenger. Talk to your mother. When she started this conversation with me, I yanked out of that place as fast as I could.”

“Fuck me,” she chuckled, pinching the bridge of her nose, “that woman never changes.”

She hadn’t felt as light-hearted in a long time. Mark brought peace to her even then when she thought she was going to drown. Which was the main reason why, when they got interrupted, she wasn’t all that happy. She wished she could have just spent the rest of the event chatting with her brother, but she was aware that it would have been selfish and defeated the purpose of a social event.

Erika had felt her friend’s attention even before she said anything to her and immediately turned to her, pushing out a forced smile. The fact that she was the one who was standing a little too close to Will some time ago didn’t have anything to do with her sudden change of mood, of course.

“Hey bestie,” Beth’s smile was wide and full of promises and expectations. Her cheeks were blushed, she looked like she just come from a day at the beach. She was a pretty girl, talented too, they had met at the gym some months ago and took the habit of going out for a meal every now and then when Erika was back in London. Erika had always liked her enough, up to that very moment. “Hey Mark,” Beth chirped, “good to see you, how was Australia?”

“Good, thank you, but I am glad to be back.” Mark’s attention slid back on Erika, “I’ll leave you to it,” he said leaning to kiss her forehead fondly, “Just see not to cause trouble.”

“I’ll do my best,” when he slipped away, Erika turned to Beth doing everything in her power to appear as friendly as possible.

She wasn’t even mad at her. She couldn’t be. She understood. Will attracted people, he had a talent like that, once you were in his orbit you couldn’t get out, he was a true star. If anything, she was even more upset at him because he had so much power over her to make her childish and jealous.

“Hey,” Erika pushed her thought in the back of her mind, “you ok?”

“Yes, thank you. Just wanted to say this is such a nice party, you always manage to get the best atmosphere!”

“Thanks, I think the people we invite are the ones who are the best at that,”

“Amen,” Beth chuckled. “So, uh, this is a little embarrassing but I have a very quick question for you.”

“Shoot,” Erika nodded.

“So, you know how I just recently got back being single, yeah?” Erika was already rolling her eyes before Beth could finish her sentence. “And I mean, he looks like a very good saddle to hop back on,” Beth giggled, looking back at Will.

Erika bit her tongue.

She didn’t want to be mean. She had no right to be. Not one bit. But at the same time, there was a prime need taking over her that made her wish she could tackle the girl and slam her right through the little coffee table by their side. But then again, Erika put herself back into perspective and found herself being more aggressively angry at Will than anything else. He had no right to destabilising her that much and then just leave here there able to do nothing but just look at him from afar.

It wasn’t Beth's fault, again, she understood. She was the first who fell into Will’s charm. And still, even when she had all the tools to make the right, thought-through decision, Erika still opted for confrontation.

“So?”

“Well, he’s your friend, right?”

“He is. And if you expect me to put a good word in for you, you are a bit out of the way after you called him a saddle to ride.”

Beth frowned, “I was obviously joking.” Erika knew that was bullshit. Beth paused and took a sip of her wine, immediately forgetting any reason to possibly be upset, “Anyways, is he single?”

Even though she didn’t want to, Erika felt obliged to tell the truth. She had no right even thinking she could do otherwise. “Yes.”

Beth purred, “Great,”

“I mean, are you going to make a move on him?” Erika wondered damning herself for caring.

“I think he might. It looked like he was flirting earlier. God, I hope so,” Beth sighed, clearly getting lost in a fantasy. They both looked back at Will, “he looks so pretty and dumb, and at the same time like someone who would unapologetically fuck you stupid.”

Erika wondered when it happened that Beth thought she had all that freedom with her. Maybe she thought that because they were both girls and Erika was in a stable relationship with someone like Kyle then she was free to say the worse and still have her support. How wrong she was.

However, before Erika could say anything, she got lost watching Will interact with Kyle and Mark, and she forgot all about the problem at hand. They were talking to each other all holding a bottle of beer. Kyle was the tallest and stood in the middle of the group as his gaze hopped from one to the other of his friends standing at his sides. The seriousness of their faces only made her crave to know what had just been said.

Mark raised a hand, explaining something and Will disagreed, shaking his head, so Kyle moved and brushed a hand on Will’s chest, trying to reassure the Brit.

Erika frowned. What were they saying? She wished she could be a lip reader.

Will gaze traced back to her and caught her watching him. Again, she raised her chin up. He looked crossed, like he was ready to have a confrontation, thought she would bet money she had a bigger pride than his. If he had a problem with her looking at him, he could have just left her house.

Kyle and Mark too looked back at her. Mark kept being puzzled, he was studying the situation more than anything, trying to get an idea of what was happening, all the while Kyle just seemed defeated.

Will said something that prompted Kyle to take his arm, calling his attention back to him. They exchanged a few words, and by then Erika could only see the intensity of Kyle’s gaze pouring right into Will’s. Kyle placed a hand on Will’s chest and the other on his face, still looking at him, talking and nodding. It seemed like he was trying to reassure him.

Erika damned herself. And damned Will.

Everything could have been easy. No one needed to get hurt if only he hadn’t decided to go and be an asshole. And now, hell, how did it get to be that bad?

She didn’t even care about herself and her own disappointment and broken heart. She knew she could suffer and handle it. Kinda. But Kyle? She would have ripped her own arms off before letting anything happen to him. And she knew that sooner or later whatever was corroding her from the inside, splitting her and Will up, would have surfaced and impacted Kyle too.

It was only a matter of time.

If she kept lying and not talking to him, he would have only got hurt worse by her own hand. And for what? For her to try and prioritize his friendship with Will and protect the Brit!? But her alternative was much worse. She couldn’t, for the life of her, even think about the possibility of giving him any reason to lose trust in his dearest friend.

Kyle had only one family and it was her and the two men standing by him. He was too precious to be let down in any way by any of them.

Beth was still blubbering about Will, but Erika wasn’t listening anymore by then.

Erika cleared her voice, trying to put her thoughts in order. She crossed her arms, trying to find a way to feel secure when the floor underneath her feet seemed to suddenly disappear. Erika downed her wine, having an interior battle about how wise it would have been to go and get herself another glass. She was already feeling the effects of the booze warming her nerves and slightly slowing up her thought process. Was she really considering drinking more?

Yes. Maybe the answer was getting blackout drunk.

“Sorry,” Erika murmured, stepping back and away from Beth, “I’ll be back.” That being said, she turned over and left her empty wine glass on the kitchen countertop on her way to the door.

She needed to get out of there. She needed some fresh air. To clear her head.

Erika patiently waited at the till as her order was being processed. On the counter, already stuck in an anonymous white plastic bag, there was a bottle of whiskey she didn’t need and a snickers bar. Although her attention wasn’t on those items, she yarned at the tobacco and cigarettes dispenser behind the cashier.

Never like that evening, she had craved a cigarette since she quit smoking and yet that was the sole reason why she entered into the off-licence corner shop. She won on her craving though, opting for booze and chocolate.

She didn’t even want the whiskey. She only bought it to pretend to have an excuse to leave the party.

“There we go Miss Erika,” the cashier politely smiled, offering her a plastic bag of goodies. He was a sweet, little man just over middle age. She liked him and it sure wasn’t the first time she or Kyle ran to the corner shop for emergency supplies like booze, snacks, ice cream or cigarettes, when she used to smoke. “You look very pretty tonight, Miss.”

“Thank you, Mr Salim,” Erika smiled politely. She appreciated the compliment, but she also felt slightly uncomfortable. She did look completely out of place in her outfit there. But outside on the street, the air was too chilli for how short her dress was or how much of her skin it revealed.

“You are going to have to invite me to one of your parties one of these days,”

“I will when you decide to take a vacation day!”

“Oh,” he chuckled softly, shaking his head, “then, who’s gonna look after my shop?”

Erika picked up her bag, offering the man a small smile. “Then no party for you, Mr Salim.”

He chuckled some more and then shook a finger at her. “Don’t have too much fun, Miss. And give my best to Mr Kyle,”

“I will. Don’t work too hard Mr Salim, have a good night,” she said as she left.

The time she had spent outside her apartment wasn’t remotely enough for her to feel any better. But she had run out of ideas. She wasn’t ready to go back though, but her options were slim. She could have walked up and down the street a couple of times, freezing to death and looking like she just left a club too drunk to realise she wasn’t wearing a coat. Or, she could have gone back into her building complex and waited patiently on the stairs for some time to go buy. Having her sneakers.

“Erika!”

She gasped and turned over, startled. Her heart missed a beat, as she looked in the direction the voice came from. She recognised him immediately and wished to be strong enough not to react to him, and yet, she wasn’t.

“Jesus,” Will bent catching his breath, stopping a moment, before approaching her. He looked concerned. “Where did you go!? We got worried.”

“I-” Erika vaguely pointed at the corner shop, rattling the bag in her hand, as if that could be explanation enough. Then she sent him an inquisitive look. “Did you follow me?”

“Well, yes. You just walked out.”

Erika looked up into his eyes, confronting him. “I thought you were damning the day you met me. Funny that you also run after me.”

“I needed to talk to you.”

“Well?” She wondered opening her arms, “I’m right here, go on then. Bet this one can’t be any better than anything you had to say before.”

Will hesitated. He looked at her for a long second, studying her face and the longer he looked, the more puzzled his expression became. “Why are you this mad at me?” He wondered, dropping whatever reason he seemed to have to confront her. His tone was now just sad and soft. “What did I ever do to you to deserve what you are doing?”

Erika scoffed in his face, shaking her head. “What the fuck?” She was smiling dangerously, hovering so close to losing every drop of patience and maturity she had in her, “What am I doing? Let’s hear it.” She didn’t drop anything and went under him as if she was ready to physically take him on. “This better be good Ospreay. Enlighten me.”

“What did you say to your brother?” Will too was quick to heat back up. “For a start.”

“Nothing. What the fuck are you talking about!?”

“Why do I have to justify anything to Mark?” Will pressed on.

“He’s my brother. I tell him whatever the fuck I want.”

“I have done nothing wrong.” Will plead. “If you dare to put Mark or Kyle against me on a whim of yours, then,”

“Then what, Will?” She snapped, “Are you threatening me?”

He seemed more confused than her. As if her words just made him realise what kind of boundaries he was breaking, Will took a step back, rubbing his hands on his face. “Fuck’s sake,” he murmured, “Just-” when he turned back to her, he looked desperate. His hurt hit her right in the stomach. “Don’t do this. Don’t put them against me. Mark is like a brother. And Kyle-” he chocked, “I love Kyle, you know that.”

He was hurting. She shouldn’t have cared. After everything, she should have ignored him or worse, she should have kept being enraged by his behaviour. And yet, something in her gut stopped her. It was impossible to her the idea of willingly hurting him.

“Will,” she whispered, hesitating a second before taking a step closer to him. “I would never do that. Don’t you think I know what you guys mean to each other?

“You tell me,”

“Don’t you know me?”

“I don’t know what I know anymore,”

His words hit her deeper than she expected and showed on her face. Her eyes mirrored her pain as she looked right into him, unable to hide it any longer.

“Why?” She wondered, her voice trembling, “what changed?”

“What do you mean what changed?” His gaze hardened.

Erika was on the verge of tears by then and she had decided she wasn’t going to hide anymore. Fuck it. Fuck him. Fuck her pride.

“Why did you have sex with me and Kyle if you had to go and make it so awkward after?”

It was like she spoke another language. Will looked at her like she had just stubbed him right in the heart. “I don’t know. At this point, I don’t know why I did it.”

Equally, he hit her right back.

She felt her chest squeeze, constricted by the freezing cold disappointment of realising she had been mistaken all along. There was no saving anything. No fixing.

“Do you regret it?” She wondered, turning away and catching a tear as soon as she started crying as if that was enough to hide away from him. She didn’t even care to appear pathetic anymore.

“I think I do,” he admitted.

“So, that’s it.” Erika looked up at him, tears streaming down her face. She let him see her and ignored how hesitation and doubt kicked in him. “Don’t worry,” she waved her hand, taking a step back, “I was wrong. I made a mistake. I won’t say anything to Mark or Kyle about this.”

It was over.

Now she had to find a way to keep that little amount of pride she had left up high and do everything in her power to find a way to not ruin her relationship with Kyle trying to protect him.

Before she could slip away, Will grabbed her by her shoulders and made her look at him. “Do you know why I regret it?”

She tried to escape him, “Please, Will, I said I’m done. I’ll leave you alone. Why do you have to be so cruel?”

Instead of letting her go, he cupped her face, making her look directly at him.

Erika wished not to with every inch of her being but his touch was warm and she melted into it.

“I’m going mad. Why are you crying like this?”

“Because you are a damn bastard,” she didn’t yell, she didn’t fight anymore, “You never noticed how much I liked you before? Do you think I’d invite any random guy to share a bed with me and Kyle?” She shook her head, “This is entirely on me, I understand my mistake. And I am not even upset about hooking up. I am upset because you just shut me out after. I understand why Kyle is more important to you, but seeing how nothing changed between you two and how everything changed with me-”

“You left.” Will simply said. “That morning, you left. I felt awkward with Kyle too as we woke up. I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say or do. I wasn’t even sure if I could look at him. We had always been close but clearly never that close. It was a new circumstance for the both of us and you weren’t there,” he cleared his voice, his cheeks blushing, “but it’s pretty easy to sort out stuff between boys.”

“You think I left you!?” Erika paused, looking into his eyes. Something clicked in her mind and she felt like the ground had opened underneath her feet. Now everything that had happened, everything that had been said, suddenly assumed a different light.

“I assumed,”

“You fucking dumb son of a bitch,” Erika punched his chest with no real intention of hurting him, “You assumed wrong. I thought you left me! I only went for a run because I woke up buzzing with energy and didn’t know where to put it. I felt awkward and scared and I needed time to think.”

“Think about what?”

“Why it meant so much to be with you, for one. And what it could possibly mean for me and Kyle. It doesn’t happen every fucking day I fuck two guys.”

“I-” Will choked through his words, still looking at her like she spoke another language. “It doesn’t make any fucking sense. Why wouldn’t Kyle say anything?”

“Kyle didn’t know!” She gave Will another push but she was ready to fight him if he tried to get away from her, “I haven’t spoken to Kyle in a week. I couldn’t. Anytime he asked questions I’d shush him and fuck him. I knew that if I had told him how I was hurt he’d be crossed at you. I thought it was better this way.”

“Why you didn’t try to reach out?”

“Why didn’t you?” Erika’s words seemed to bring him some sense, to which point she nodded, “Can you blame me?”

“No.”

“And then tonight,” she started, shaking her head, “I thought I’d use the occasion to understand what the fuck happened but we just kept saying more horrible things to each other.”

“I hated to see how happy you looked like nothing mattered. Doing your thing in your little party with all your little friends,” Will bent his lips.

“You were my exact mirror. It looked like you didn’t care,”

“God,” Will pulled her to his chest in a hug she didn’t refuse. Maybe she should have fought a little longer, only to make him understand how much he hurt her, but she couldn’t, she was too tired for that and feeling his welcoming chest under her head, and his warmth surrounding her, was everything she needed.

Her pain was gone. She was still shaken and her pride was still bruised in a way she wasn’t sure she could fix because she now felt like the most stupid person in the world who created a problem and basked in her own grave after she dug it happily. But her chest was free.

Erika slid an arm around Will’s waist, holding him solidly and pressed her face into his shoulder, letting him hold her tight. He pushed a hand into her hair, cradling her softly. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean anything by what I’ve said. I didn’t mean it.”

“I mean it when I say you are a dumb son of a bitch,” she sniffled, looking up at him. She pulled a timid smile, while drying her tears off her face, hoping her make up wasn’t completely ruined.

There was a small pause and then Will finally smiled, chuckling at her words. To her, it looked like seeing the sun shining bright in the sky after a long, long time of bad weather.

“I am an idiot.”

“Yes,” she agreed.

Will cupped her face in his hands, taking a moment to enjoy feeling her in his grasp, his smile softened. “Can I kiss you? Please?”

“You better, Billy Goat, or I won’t speak to you ever again.”

He didn’t even let her finish her sentence before he pulled her into a kiss. At first, he only pressed his lips on hers, still slightly uncertain, but as soon as Erika slid her hand up his chest and around his neck, he warmed up completely, closing her in between his arms and deepening their kiss.

Erika purred when their tongues crossed and pushed her hand into his hair, feeling the need to cross her fingers into his curls.

“Never again,” Erika whispered against his lips, “you do not keep secrets from me. When something is wrong, you must talk about it.”

He nodded, pecking at her lips. “Yes, ma’am. I think you need to talk to Kyle now.”

“Yes,” she released a sad huff, “I feel so sorry. I didn’t mean to shut him out. Neither of you.”

“He’ll understand. He’s Kyle.” Will pulled a confident smile Erika couldn’t keep herself from kissing.

“Will you stay tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

“Please,” she pulled him into another heated kiss. Only the thought of having both him and Kyle to herself was enough to make her brain stop working completely.

Will let go of her only to press his forehead on hers, inhaling a deep, peaceful breath.

“What’s in the bag?” He wondered sliding his hand over her arm and hooking his fingers onto the plastic bag.

“Just a snicker bar and some whiskey. I needed an excuse to leave. And I needed an excuse not to get a packet of cigarettes.”

Will took the bag off her hold as if it was something that weighed too much for her and then slid a heavy arm around her shoulders, pulling her under his side, and rubbing his hand over her. “Let’s get you inside.” Will softly kissed her temple.

“Okay,” Erika smiled, leaning against him and resting her hand on his chest, unable to let go.

They rode the elevator in silence, just hugging, enjoying that moment of peace and then walked hand in hand back to the flat, although Erika stopped him a moment before he could go back in.

She giggled as she pushed him against the wall.

“Someone could see us,” he whispered not at all refusing her.

Erika tapped her fingers on his chest, tracing them up his neck and chin. “I don’t care.” She whispered pulling him into a kiss. “Did you know you made a conquest at the party?”

“Did I?” Will closed his arms around her waist, pulling her against him, widening his strong thighs so she could stand in between his legs.

“Mh,” she did to kiss him and then moved away last minute, making him want it. “My friend Beth said you have the look of a pretty, dumb guy who’d fuck you stupid.”

“Well,” he chuckled, “she isn’t wrong.”

Erika pulled him by the chin, brushing her lips against his. Tasting his breath on her tongue made her stomach vibrate and melt into a warm feeling that slid down into her abdomen. “I’ve never been so jealous in my life.” She teased. “I wanted to put her through a table.”

“I would have paid money to see that.” Will switched position, pushing her against the wall, trapping her lips into a kiss and pressing his body against hers. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Just saying,” she smiled, “that’s the expectation around here.”

“Yours?” Erika purred, answering to him with another kiss. Will smiled against her lips, nodding. “Noted.” He then pushed his face into her neck, assaulting her sensitive skin. “I could start now,” Will rested the plastic bag on the floor and then his hands ran quickly to her naked legs, reaching for the helm of her dress, “would you like that, love?”

His coarse voice vibrated low right through her skin sending a shiver down her spine. It was inebriating. They had been together only once and yet she had missed him like it had been a lifetime.

Erika stretched and bent underneath him, her hands trailing across his chest and shoulders, avidly feeling the edge of his muscles under her palms. She was eager to feel him move under her touch, craving to have him naked only so she could watch him move for her. She bit her lips shut, trying her hardest to suffocate a whimper, already struggling to keep quiet and he was barely stroking her legs.

“This,” Will pointed out as his fingers followed the edge of her dress, “is a very tiny dress, love,” he pressed his smile just under her chin. “It was so hard being around you all night, it was.” Just like he had a point to make, Will’s hands traced up her body, following the edges of her dress cutting a low neckline across her stomach. He toyed with the thin golden chains that kept it together. “wanted me and Kyle to become madmen, didn’t you?” he teased looking down at her.

“I wore it for you,” she looked at him only pretending to be all innocent, biting her lower lip.

“You are such a cheeky little tease, you are,” Will leaned in for a kiss.

She would have lied if she said she cared in the slightest about being in her very public floor corridor, where everyone could walk by and see she was unashamedly making out with someone who wasn’t her boyfriend. But, besides her pressing desire to forget everything about their misunderstanding and just get lost in Will’s arms, Erika still pressed a hand on his chest.

She huffed, trying to get a hold of her thoughts. “Hold on,” she pushed in the middle of his chest with more conviction, not because she didn’t think that he would stop at her words, but because she needed something to hold onto. And she needed air. She couldn’t think straight when her senses where so overwhelmed by him. “We need to talk to Kyle.”

Will’s gaze was soft as he crossed her face. He leaned his head to the side and raised a hand to her jaw, tracing it to her chin. “Yes.”

Erika raised her chin, looking at him right in the eye. “I know we have lots more to talk about to understand what this thing is,” she pointed between them, “but I do not want only sex from you.” She felt her cheeks blush and her heart pitter-patter in her chest as emotions flew across her. She wasn’t the shy type, never was. And hell, if she would have let misunderstanding get in the way of her and her happiness again. “Just so we are clear.”

“No?” Will pecked her lips softly, not hiding a big dumb smile curling on his lips. “And what is it that you’d like? Tell me, love.”

“I mean, don’t get me wrong, I still want you to fuck me stupid.”

“Fair enough,” he chuckled.

“But I think I’d like to try and date you.”

“I am pretty sure I can clear my schedule a little and find some space to take you out.”

Erika nodded, pulling a timid smile. “Do you think Kyle will be on board?”

“Considering he’d jump off a building for you and the fact that you Australians are fucking mental, I think it’s safe to say he would. Plus,”

The way Will blushed and his eyes trailed off, as he shied away, made her attention pop. A big, teasing smile grew on her lips as Erika poked his chest. “What was that? What aren’t you telling me, Ospreay?”

“I mean,” he was still avoiding eye contact, hiding behind his stupid smile that made her go insane, “I think I won’t have a problem dating either of you.”

“What are you saying?” She wondered feeling his words sliding right through her and into her stomach, making her feel warm and comforted. She did understand what he meant already but wanted so badly to hear it coming from him.

“I mean, you know, Kyle is very special to me.”

“Is he?” She purred.

“He’s very talented, very kind and very beautiful,” Will pointed out, “Why would I have a problem with that?”

“Are you saying you have a crush on my boyfriend?” She smiled proudly, somehow feeling that information weight right in her belly, making her tremble under her own skin.

There was something forbidden and tremendously beautiful to the idea that not only Will and Kyle liked her but they could also like each other. She was shaken by the need ok knowing, of seeing it happen.

She had known them both a very long time and witnessed years of flirting, but always assumed it was innocent playing around. She would lie if she said she never fantasised about it. Actually, that was at the very core of her threesome fantasies, honestly, but never before she had found a reason to bring it up. Erika settled thinking that was just how things were between them. They all did it with each other. And both Kyle and Will had the same behaviour with Mark. But now she was starting to wonder if something may have been different all along.

“Maybe I do,” Will proceeded, glimmering eyes and rose cheeks popping up under his smile. He tapped his index softly on the tip of her nose, “but you sure are nosy, aren’t you?”

“I am not!” She chuckled, “But I am intrigued.”

“Ah, yeah?” He wondered leaning in for a kiss, “You like the idea that I might like your boy, uh?” he brushed his lips against hers, “does it turn you on, love?”

“God,” Erika exhaled, nodding even before words could come out. She felt her throat seal shut and needed desperately a breath of fresh air just to clear her head because what she was picturing in her thoughts wasn’t only improper, but extremely out of place considering they were supposed to be locked in a room full of people for the rest of the evening.

Will puffed up his chest with pride and smiled. “You are so very bad, you are.”

Erika pulled him into another kiss with a smile on her lips and then forced herself to push him off herself with a chuckle. She wasn’t ready to go back to the party just yet, and especially when she couldn’t be all over him and her boyfriend, but the voice of reason reminded her they both had been gone a while.

“C’mon handsome, let’s go back before they’ll send a search squad.”

Will nodded, “As you wish, love.”

As soon as they went through the door, most eyes moved on them. Most were puzzled as the flow of the party slowed. Erika wasn’t bothered by anyone else’s reaction; her attention was only for one person.

She smiled as soon as she made eye contact with Kyle, who looked over to them from the other side of the room, easily peeking above everyone else’s head. He was quick to assert the situation, studying her and Will and then a soft, large smile popped on his lips too as he deduced everything that needed to be said by their respective body language.

Before she could go to him, Erika slipped by the catering people, leaving her miserable bag of excuses on the open kitchen counter. “Don’t worry about this one, ok?” She instructed the girl standing the closest to her, who nodded willingly. “Thank you. You are smashing it,” she then added, showing her appreciation for their job. More would have come into the fat tip they would have left them at the end of the evening.

The girl pulled a large smile nodding gratefully. “Thank you, ma’am, glad you are enjoying it.”

As Erika turned, she found Will waiting for her. She wished she could have better control over herself, but she still blushed under his eyes, unable to hide her interest. She brushed her hand on his abdomen as she passed him over. “You should mingle, now.”

“Or I could just look at you,” he whispered softly to her ear, “and think about all the things I will do to you once we’ll be alone.”

Erika was crossed by a shiver. “I hate you so much, Billy.”

“No, you don’t.”

She shook her head and had to gather all her strength and control to slip off him. It didn’t matter what she did, he had planted a seed into her mind and now she wasn’t able to think about anything else but what he had said. Her stomach was already trembling in anticipation. God, she was ready to kick everyone out, even her own brother, just to be able to have the rest of the night with him and Kyle already.

Erika managed to leave Will and cross the room, reaching for Kyle’s side. He was talking to a couple of the guys he and Mark met training. As soon as she was close, Kyle pulled her under his arm, dragging her naturally to his side, not losing the flow of his conversation.

“Hey,” she greeted them wrapping her arms around Kyle’s waist.

She didn’t care too much about their conversation, it was loads of opinions about wrestling technicalities and she didn’t have the focus to get into it.

“Can I talk to you for a minute?” She wondered popping her chin on his chest, looking up at him.

“Of course,” Kyle kissed her forehead and then looked over to the other two, “Sorry boys, I’ll get back to you.”

Erika grabbed his hand and pulled him with her to the bedroom, seeking some privacy. As they crossed the room, she briefly looked back finding Will sitting with Mark on the sofa, they were clearly having a lively conversation with some other people. When she noticed that Beth was standing there between everyone, listening to whatever Will was saying with interest. Erika couldn’t help herself from whipping out a victorious smile. She was maybe being extremely childish, but knowing what the other girl wanted was ultimately hers fed right into her pride.

Erika found soothe into shutting everyone else behind her back, as she closed the door. The bedroom was nice and quiet, bringing her to release a relieved huff. “God, I feel like this party is going on forever.”

“Do you?” Kyle’s propped her chin up just so he could lean in for a kiss.

Erika immediately melted in his hold. Her hands raced up his arms and around his shoulders, as she took a long moment to enjoy being in his arms. As soon as their tongues crossed, Erika was crossed by another, powerful, hot shiver sliding down her spine and nesting into her abdomen, making her tremble. Kyle’s arms caged her. His hands slid on her body, feeling her curves.

“You,” she started, breaking her kiss, trying to catch her breath, “need to stop right now,”

“Or what, baby?” He backed her up against the wall, a confident smile printed on his lips and laser-focused eyes glimmering at her like the ones of a hungry wolf.

Erika tried to keep her hands planted in the centre of his chest, keeping him steady, but she wasn’t truly fighting him off as Kyle leaned in looking for her lips again.

“We have guests,” she panted, trying to maintain some sense, unsure what strength was driving her, especially after she had been turned on so much by Will just a moment ago. “We can’t just disappear,”

“I am sure everyone who noticed we slipped away is thinking we are fucking.”

Erika chuckled, sliding her hands through Kyle’s hair as he traced the line of her jaw. “Believe it or not I didn’t drag you here for a quickie.”

“No?” He sounded genuinely sad about it, “That is not very nice, babe.”

“Pretty please? I need to tell you something and it’s really hard for me to focus when you are all over me.”

“Seems I am still not doing a good job at it,”

“Shut up Fletcher,” she playfully pushed him off her, shaking her head. “When everyone is gone, and especially my brother. You can toy with me as you please.”

“I’ll keep you up on that.” Kyle looked down at her offering a cheeky smile. Then, he backed off, going and sitting on the edge of the bed. “So,” he started looking at her with interest, “you and Will made up?”

“About that,” she started stepping closer, “yes, we did. But before we talk about that I need to apologise.”

“For what, baby?” Kyle pulled her closer to him, making her stand in between his long legs. When he was sat, they were almost the same hight.

Erika rested her arms on his shoulders and tenderly stroked his hair, offering a small, soft but ashamed smile. “I didn’t mean to keep you out.”

“You never have to apologise to me.”

“No,” she pressed on, “I do. Please, be mad at me for once,”

“You want me to be mad?”

“No, I mean, take my apologise like you were.”

“Ok,” Kyle paused to process her words, “so tell me, now,” he looked up into her eyes, “tell me what it is you didn’t tell me all week.”

“I didn’t want to be an inconvenience. I didn’t want my problem to taint your relationship with Will. So, I couldn’t tell you how hurt I was when I found out he just left that morning and then didn’t reach out to me. I realise that if I had said something to you, this situation would have been easily resolved, but I didn’t, so I managed to convince myself Will was ignoring me just as much as he convinced himself about the same thing,”

“First, you will never be an inconvenience to me. Second, you convinced me too. I knew something was off, but because you didn’t say a word about Will, I understood it the other way around.”

“Like?”

“Like you wanted to forget that night. Which is why I didn’t bring it up ever again. Until today. I started to suspect I misunderstood just today.”

“I am sorry,” Erika shook her head, “I feel so stupid. This could have ended so badly.” Her breath was suddenly shaken as she looked away. “I know how much Will means to you and I couldn’t bear to be the sore nerve in the middle of your beautiful relationship so,”

Before she could continue, Kyle pulled her into a kiss, silencing her. “Don’t say it,” he whispered, “do not say what you almost did. Which, by the way, I wouldn’t let you do. I would never let you leave me. Not like this. Not until I am certain that’d be the only way to make you happy. But not like this.”

“See? You would have fought.”

“Hell yeah,”

“Why would you fight for me when I thought about leaving you,” Erika paused again, “I am so sorry.”

“Erika, baby,” Kyle made her look at him, “You aren’t thinking of leaving me because you are selfish or mean. I can see that everything you did, even if it may have been a degree wrong, you did it to protect my interest to the best of your abilities.” Kyle slid his hands around her face, stroking her cheeks. “I appreciate you. I love you. But don’t ever think I’d be happier without you.”

“I promise I won’t keep anything from you,” Erika pushed a hand on his chest, just above where his heart was, “No more secrets.”

“That would be wise,” Kyle chuckled. His smile was as fresh as the breeze, making her feel reassured, “Especially since I seem to be the voice of reason around here.”

“Then, coming to the most pressing matter.” Erika started, looking down again. Her cheeks were slowly blushing, “I want to date Will.”

“Are you leaving me for Billy Goat!?” Kyle placed a hand on his chest, pretending to look shocked. “I knew he was bad business,”

“C’mon, mate,” Erika gave him a playful push, “be serious you idiot,”

“Right,” Kyle nodded, “Am I invited to join this dating party? Or is it an exclusive?”

“No. I mean yeah, yes you are invited. I mean, you must be there.” Erika cleared her voice, just saying it out loud brought images into her mind making her thoughts all foggy and her stomach twist. “I would like to welcome Will in the couple, that’s it. Because I like him. I’ve been liking him a while,” she talked fast as if pushing out the words as quickly as possible could somehow hide her from Kyle’s reaction.

“Yeah, I know that babe,”

“So, what do you think?”

She didn’t even think about the possibility of his refusal. What if he was only interested in a one-night stand and didn’t care to indulge her? What if he didn’t like the idea of sharing all of that with Will?

Kyle shrugged, “I mean I am down for it. What did Will say?”

“He’s totally smitten by you. Called you beautiful, quoting.”

“I mean, I am beautiful, but that’s beside the point.”

Erika chuckled, “You are such a dumb prick sometimes,”

Kyle still blushed, even though he had just been cocky, “I’d like that. I mean it’s not a secret how much I feel for Will so,”

“Yeah, but there’s a difference between close friendship and romance,”

“Is there?” Kyle wondered, “Or maybe I just never openly admitted that I like him and that’s why we are so close. I mean, not that I have thought about it enough to put a label on it, but I wouldn’t oppose having him around more often. Equally, I have no problem getting on with the both of you.”

“Oh,” Erika chuckled, nodding, “that I know.”

In her belly, Erika felt a warm feeling distending and sliding across her body, under her skin, lulling her into a new relaxed state. It wasn’t only finding relief after days of intense, nerve-wracking anxiety and dreadful sadness, it was also joy, deep and pure.

She hadn’t planned anything to go the way it went in the past few days and certainly, she wasn’t expecting it to end up like a bloody fairytale happy ending. She had convinced herself of the opposite. But now she couldn’t think about anything but being grateful.

If only she had known earlier that things would have turned out that way.

She then pulled him into a hug, pushing her face into the crook of his neck. Erika cradled him gently, assimilating the consistency of his solid body in her arms. “Whatever, you know? I love you.”

“I love you too, always.”

Erika was completely taken by pleasure. She felt like she was floating. Her body didn’t feel hers anymore. She didn’t have weight or consistency. No thoughts, only emotions. She was only her pleasure, wrapped and moulded under heavy bodies, hot hands and hungry mouths.

Kyle kept her solidly pressed against his chest. He had one hand wrapped around her throat as his other arm twisted around her waist, just so he could have easy access to her clit, only intensifying her pleasure as she took both of them in. She was riding Will’s cock, as Kyle fucked her ass.

“You are doing so good, pet,” he lulled at her ear.

They were taking it extremely slow now, especially for the standards they were getting her used to, but it wasn’t certainly the pace of their night. The boys had been relentless and merciless, making her come countless times already and still keeping her pleasure rolling.

Erika thought she could snap and go insane. She had never cried because of pleasure before. She had heard of the event. Maybe even see it when watching dirty, hardcore porno but never experienced it herself. Up to tonight.

The first-time tears had started streaming down her face, both Will and Kyle froze, thinking they were hurting her somehow, only making her go more feral. Erika had to threaten them not to stop, ever. Unless she told them so. And they hadn’t ever since.

She had never experienced anything like what she was feeling that night. Not even the first time they were together the pleasure was quite so high. But that night was somehow hotter, and dirtier, the things they did and said to each other were more prohibited and inebriating. And none of the trio seemed to have enough of the other two.

Erika whimpered, too exhausted even to moan louder. Erika sat down on Will’s cock, slowly, accompanied by Kyle’s hand guiding her movements as the Aussie proceeded to slide back into her. It was like a synchronised dance between them, supposed to cyclically fill her up as much as possible. She had begged for it but could never be ready for the real feeling. She had experience with anal and even double penetration, as she and Kyle liked to play with toys, but her toys weren’t as big as both those boys fucking her. She felt like she was getting split in two, and loved every second of it.

Their skin was a sticky mess of sweat, bodily fluids and lube.

“Feels good, doesn’t it?” Kyle’s pure satisfaction vibrated through his voice, making her purr.

Words escaped her mind just as easily as thoughts did, she was abandoned in between their arms, body and soul, Erika only managed to slowly nod at him.

She felt Kyle's sharp smile pressed on her shoulder as he looked down at Will and invited her to a holt. In her stillness, Erika took a second to catch her breath, relaxing her lower abdomen and adjusting to both men's sizes.

She wasn’t at all mad at Kyle’s chosen pace. It gave her a chance to catch her breath – as much as still being fucked and held by the throat, hands tied behind her back could do. But she knew that Kyle’s slow torture wasn’t targeted at her, for once. She knew the Aussie's bright eyes were pointed at Will just as much as she was aware his sharp, challenging smile was for the Brit too, as Kyle had taken control over the both of them.

And she was in with Kyle’s game. Hearing Will whimpering underneath her, begging for pleasure, made her go insane.

He too had his hands bound. He was trapped by handcuffs locked to the bed board and she loved to see how he moved and stretched underneath her. His muscles twitching and contracting. His big arms looked so good bent above his head.

She had taken a mental note of how much she liked it and thought next time she would have tied down both boys, planning to take her time to play with both.

However, that wasn’t quite the only thing that sent her completely feral. The desperate insanity of her attraction to the two men she was sharing the bed with pivoted when Kyle silenced Will, staffing her panties into his mouth and gagging him.

“Do you want to fuck this pretty boy, pet?” Kyle wondered. His words were enough to make both her and Will tremble. Kyle had his large hand opened wide on her lower abdomen and pressed on her, making her move her hips ever so slowly, causing Will to twitch and huff.

Erika smiled, turning her head to Kyle as much as his hold on her allowed movement, looking for a kiss. “Please,” she whispered against his lips. “I do.”

“Of course, you do, pet,” he cooed, “that’s what you like doing best, isn’t it?”

“Yes,”

Kyle dangerously purred in her ear, “No, no, pretty one, don’t disappoint me now,” he pushed her chin up and head back just to make her stretch in his hold. “Say it. Let me hear it,”

Erika moulded under his control, “Please, let me fuck him,” she whined, “I am such a slut for you,” she continued and the more she said, the more she wanted to say just to please the Aussie. “I want you both to cum all over me.”

“That bad, uh?” Kyle pushed her head back so she could watch Will, controlling her hips to move in another painfully slow thrust. And then another, quicker this time. They all moaned. “Shall we milk every drop of what he has to give?” Kyle’s hand stretched over Will’s abdomen, causing the Brit to react to his touch, bending his back with a whine. Before she could even think about responding in any way, Kyle's soft chuckle in her ear gave her a shiver. “Or, I could fuck you some more myself and make him watch.”

Will grunted, impatiently twitching underneath them, trying to buck his hips into her to find some form of satisfaction, trying to lift himself up and fight the firm hold of his handcuffs.

That only caused Kyle to chuckle, “What was that baby? Daddy’s angry?” He guided another slow thrust. “Daddy should learn to be patient, don’t you think, pet?”

She nodded, rolling her head on his shoulder and letting a small moan out, not entirely sure she could think straight anymore. Almost out of habit, without thinking, she moved her hips, taking the initiative to thrust on them. Kyle let her. Her body was stretched like an elastic band ready to snap, pressed under her ever-grown hunger for pleasure that wouldn’t come. Kyle’s torture was making her go mad.

“Please, Kyle,” she huffed, exchanging a desperate look with Will. They both begged to be satisfied.

“Yes, pet? What is it?”

“I need-”

Kyle suffocated her words and ripped a moan out of her as he made her slide up and down Will’s cock pushing himself back into her. Erika opened her mouth wide, rolling her eyes in the back of her skull. The pleasure of feeling them both inside of her was too much even for her to voice it.

“What do you need, baby?” his tone was now softer, more attentive, “Tell me, I will give it to you.”

“J-just fuck me,” she exhaled, “and let me fuck him.”

Kyle was ready to give her what she wanted. He exchanged a nod with Will, only so he would be ready and received a suffocated moan in return, as Will still tried to fight the handcuffs off. “Nah, big boy,” Kyle patted Will on the belly, “you are staying exactly like that.”

A shiver crossed Erika as she nodded, supporting the Aussie. “Daddy’s so pretty tied up.” She purred pressing a smile into Kyle’s jaw.

Will let his head fall on the pillow and bit down on the fabric in his mouth, suffocating a grunt, but the second he stopped resisting, Kyle rewarded him with what everyone wanted.

“C’mon, baby, be a good girl and take what you need from us,” he instructed, letting Erika move freely as she wished on Will’s cock, and respecting her rhythm with his own thrusts.

She stretched against him and rode the Brit. Now it was her turn to be merciless, but Erika had very little patience too. She had been toyed with enough and felt like she was going to implode if she hadn’t found release. She whined, her body already shaking as the wildest wave of pleasure started to grow inside her tummy.

Her fingers spread out on Kyle’s abdomen, touching as much of Kyle’s skin as she could, even though her hands were tied up.

He kissed her neck, ear and side of her head, only for his hold to become stronger around her throat. “Inhale, pet. Take a deep breath and hold it in those pretty lungs.”

Erika whimpered. A shiver crossed her spine, shaking her. She would have done anything for him but that command, somehow, was groundbreaking. Made her want to drop on her knees and have a collar put around her neck. It made her stomach twist. Her thoughts dissipated; nothing was left but letting herself go in his arms.

She did as instructed, inhaling deeply, just so Kyle could squeeze her throat and choke her. His hold was hot but firm, suffocating her breath and voice into submission as their rhythm only quickened. With every thrust shaking her and her lungs constricting into her chest, Erika felt her caged self spiral towards an undiscovered level of pleasure.

Kyle lulled sweet words to her ear, encouraging her to take it all. He softly kissed her neck and bit down on her shoulder, suffocating his own moans on her skin. The hand he had around her abdomen quickly moved down between her legs, where he could massage her clit only making her pleasure grow exponentially.

Will arched under her, growling like a rabid animal and grabbing on the bed board, making the entire bed creak under the pressure of his hold. Erika quivered, feeling the mindless need to feel that same strength on her own body, bending her and holding her down.

She so desperately wanted to scream. She wasn’t thinking clearly any longer.

When pleasure hit her, rolling into her lower belly and exploding through her, making her shake uncontrollably, Kyle caught her and held her, releasing his hold on her throat and letting her breathe. “Good girl,” he praised, cradling her, not stopping for one second fucking her and not allowing her to slow on Will either. “Give it to us, baby,”

Erika cried their names as pleasure muffled all her other senses. Her quivering body squeezed on the boys as she abandoned herself against Kyle’s chest, letting him guide her movements.

Will came first, right after her, following the waves of her pleasure. Kyle moaned too, feeling Will’s dick release inside of her. “That’s it, big boy,” he praised, “fill her pretty pussy up.”

Will filled her up with his hot seed and, whining and groaning, pulled on his handcuffs leaving marks on his wrists. Feeling his pleasure pump inside of her made her feral. Erika was ready to howl like a dog, feeling pure satisfaction in the idea he had just branded her.

As soon as he was done, Kyle propped her up and continued fucking her, following Will and doing exactly the same thing. He pushed her head up just so he could trap her lips in a famished kiss, suffocating her whimpers as he fucked her mercilessly until he reached his own pleasure, filling her up a second time. Rode his orgasm suffocating his moans in the crook of her neck, hands grabbing on her body like he was trying his best to hold onto something, not to get washed away in his own orgasm.

Erika was a quivering mess. Her mind was completely fogged up and disconnected, to the point she wasn’t entirely aware of the sweet things Kyle chanted in her ear as he untied her wrists and laid her down.

The first thing she felt other than the hot waves of deep pleasure sex just gave her, was the cold air tickling her sweaty skin as she felt completely uncovered for the first time. She had been naked a long time by now, but she always had one boy or the other, or both on her at all time, up to that moment.

Kyle climbed above Will’s chest, full of praising words for him too as he pulled her panties out of his mouth. “You are a good, pretty boy, you know that?” he wondered softly, sliding a hand across Will’s jaw fondly.

Will smiled, not hiding the pink blushing his cheeks. “Thanks, darlin’” he patiently waited for Kyle to unlock his handcuffs, only to sit up with the Aussie in his lap and grab him by the neck as soon as he was free. “Next time you’ll be the one begging for daddy,”

Kyle looked into his eyes for a long time and then, as he slid his arms on Will’s shoulder, they both smiled at each other.

Erika rolled to her side, looking at them with a warm feeling spreading in her belly. She wasn’t only smitten by them. It was stronger than that. She needed to touch them so bad it hurt.

“Just kiss already,” she hinted, stretching in the bedsheets, trying to find some comfort for her tired body. She was exhausted and yet had enough strength left in her to still offer a cheeky smile to the both of them as they looked down at her. “I know you want to,” she purred, looking at Will.

Kyle and Will looked back at each other. The Aussie cupped Will’s face, caressing his cheeks, making him look up at him. “Do you, baby?”

“Call me baby one more time and I’ll lick the floor for you, pretty boy.”

Kyle pressed his smile on Will’s lips. Just like it had been for her, Will took a moment to melt into that new embrace, but when he did, she slid his arms around Kyle, pulling him into a hug. Their kiss was quick to heat up. When she saw their tongues flick as they made out, she was sure she felt it in her lower abdomen. Hearing their breath quicken only made Erika quiver under her own skin. Pure lust flooded through her, lighting her body up once again.

She pushed herself up and slid close to them, kissing Will on the shoulder and then leaning on Kyle’s. “You’ll drive me insane boys.”

Both Kyle and Will looked back at her, welcoming her in their hug. “Good,” Will kissed her forehead and Kyle her cheek, making her feel their affection.

She felt so grateful and lucky.

“You know what’s the funniest part of this entire thing, mate?” Wondered Kyle, hanging on Will’s shoulders.

“What, bruv?”

“You will have to tell Mark you are fucking his sister.”

“Ah, fuck,” Will let himself fall backwards into the pillows, only pretending defeat, as both Kyle and Erika laughed.

#kyle fletcher #will ospreay #kyle fletcher fanfic #kyle fletcher x reader #will ospreay fanfic #will ospreay x reader #kyle fletcher smut #will ospreay smut #aew fanfiction #aew

33 notes · View notes

papermint-airplane · 9 months

Text

Eleanor: Whoa whoa whoa, what do you mean 'who is Aiden'?! He's the Bachelor! You know, the whole reason we're competing in the first place?!

Angela: Surely you can't be serious!

Rose: I am serious! 🤭 And don't call me--

Viridia: IF YOU FINISH THAT SENTENCE, I WILL END YOU MYSELF.

Eleanor: Gaaaaaaah, I hate you people.

Angela: Then I guess I need you to explain a lot more than the murder attempt because if you aren't competing for Aiden's heart -- the alleged premise of the show -- what are you competing for?

Rose: I. keep. TELLING YOU! I want to WIN! 😠

Angela: Yes, but win what?!

Rose: Uggggh, you're so dense, it physically hurts. 😩

Viridia: STOP TALKING IN CIRCLES AND JUST EXPLAIN SOMETHING FOR ONCE!

Rose: Haven't you ever heard the expression 'winning isn't everything, it's the only thing'? 🙄

Angela: Yeah, I've heard toxic Little League coaches say that to crying seven year olds. And?

Rose: Seriously?! It's the principle I've based my entire life on! It's my mantra! My raison d'être! 👿

Viridia: WATCH OUT, SHE'S GOING FRENCH AGAIN.

Angel: So the whole reason you snuck back into the house, disguised yourself as a mime, sloppily painted your blue stripes purple, tried to kill Angela, and potentially scarred Aiden for life was...because of an expression everyone uses ironically?

Rose: It's not ironic to me, dammit! It's my sole purpose in life! Everyone knows that, even the Watcher! And she...she used it against me. 😓 She promised me that if I made the competition interesting for her, she'd let me back into the house.

Eleanor: Wait. What?! Say that again.

Rose: When I broke into her control room, she made me an offer: I'd get to come back and compete again as long as I did something to shake up the status quo. She was getting bored of you idiots. 🥱

Angel: I-I can't believe this.

Bailey: I know what you mean...

Angel: One of us got to meet the Watcher in person and it wasn't me.

Rose: Look, Angel, if it makes you feel any better, she's not what you think. She's...crazy. 😦

Bailey: High praise coming from you.

Rose: And not only that, she seriously doesn't know how 'Earth reality shows' as she calls them work because holy shit, this whole thing has been one clusterfuck from the beginning. 🙄 She says it's a Bachelor-type dating show but she's run the whole thing like a survival show with the challenges and eliminations. I mean half of us haven't even met this Arwin-or-whatever, let alone been on a date with him. What sense does that make?! 😵

Aiden: It's Aiden. I'm Aiden!

Eleanor: You're right. I thought this whole thing was shoddily arranged but I've never seen any reality dating shows. For all I knew, this is how they're supposed to be.

Rose: Well I've seen hundreds of them, and believe me, this is not how they're supposed to be. Arlo is supposed to spend time with all of us one-on-one, not be shoved into a pod by himself ninety percent of the time. 😣 I don't know how they do shows like this back on her planet but it's not how we do it on Earth. 👽

Eleanor: On...her...planet? The Watcher is an alien?

Rose: Well duh. 😑 You couldn't tell? Why do you think she abducted us all at the casting call? She had to get us on more familiar turf.

Angel: That doesn't make any sense. The Watcher can't be an alien. She's an eternal extra-dimensional being of pure benevolence.

Viridia: WILL YOU SHUT UP ABOUT YOUR RELIGION, ALREADY?! CLEARLY SOMETHING ELSE IS GOING ON.

Eleanor: I knew it, we really are in the Lunar Lakes moon settlement. I could tell from the trees. But...why are we the only Sims here?

Rose: I don't know and I don't care. 🤨

Wow. You really exposed me to everyone, huh, Rose?

Rose: You exposed yourself! You should have just let me win from the jump and I wouldn't have had to tell everyone what I knew. 😖

I guess it really is a good thing I didn't tell you the whole plan, then, huh? Otherwise you'd have run your mouth to Aiden.

Rose: Yeah yeah, Argyle or whoever-the-fuck. Well, I held up my end of the bargain. You're going to call this whole thing off and just announce me the winner, riiiiight? 🤤

Why would I do that?

Rose: Because...I made things interesting for you, like we agreed on. 😕

Then why am I still bored?

Rose: I-- 😶

You haven't won anything, Rose. You're still the same loser you were when you walked into this place on the first day. And that's all you'll ever be.

Rose: ...

Nothing to say to that?

Rose: I am going to kick. your. ass. 😡

[Beginning] [Previous] [Next]

#sims 3 #ts3 #sims 3 gameplay #mine #non canon just because i feel like it bachelor challenge #ncjbiflibc #sim: eleanor tinley #sim: angela hirano #sim: rose schaeffer #sim: viridia nn'ox #sim: angel angel #sim: bailey swain #sim: aiden ayy #if the watcher isn't me being meta then who is she? 👀

29 notes · View notes

ghosttotheparty · 2 years

Note

hi for the writing prompt ask? could you do steddie + 3 or 97 you pick!

(love your writing sm 💕)

thank you sm!!! <3 i did both bc i have no self control

dialogue asks

3. “What the hell is that and why are you wearing it?” 97. “I definitely wasn’t hanging around here hoping to bump into you or anything...” (i changed this one a bit to fit the dialogue more)

Eddie heard a rumour.

Steve Harrington works at Starcourt.

Everybody thought he’d be off to college, Stanford or some other college too expensive for Eddie to even consider applying to. (Not that any of them could possibly accept him in the first place.)

It’s summertime. Gareth is in San Antonio visiting his grandparents, and Jeff is in Chicago visiting his dad, and Paul is in Michigan for some reason. (Eddie can’t remember.) And Eddie is beginning to go a little crazy stuck in his room with nothing to do (he supposes he could study his schoolwork from last year, but… Ew.), and the air conditioner in the trailer isn’t very good, and he thinks he might melt.

So he goes to Starcourt.

With no ulterior motives, obviously. It’s just hot. And Starcourt is nice and cool inside, and he doesn’t get bored at all, wandering and browsing, and definitely not scanning every store he passes looking for pretty brown hair.

He hasn’t seen Steve anywhere. Not that it matters, because he’s not there for him. Obviously. He’s there to look in the music store, at records that he can’t afford right now and posters he’s like to put on his ceiling. He’s there to sit by the fountain and listen to the water and people watch, and ignore the people that are eyeing him like he stole something. (Which he didn’t. Not today, at least.)

He lets his eyes wander as he sits by the fountain. The sound of it drowns out the noise of the people talking and laughing and shouting, the noise of rubber shoe soles squeaking on the brand new tile floor and the humming of the escalators and the buzzing of the lights. Some girls are finding their places sitting around the fountain, near him. They’re all licking ice cream cones.

“Hey,” Eddie says, leaning toward the girl sitting at the top. She seems to be the group leader.

“What?” she says bluntly, looking him up and down very obviously. He tries not to laugh.

“How much was that?” he asks, nodding toward her ice cream.

“A dollar twenty-five.”

“Oh.”

“But,” she adds, and her friends giggle. “Scoops company policy says you can have as many tastes as you want, so basically that’s unlimited ice cream.” She holds up a finger to make her point. “Loophole.”

He stares at her blankly for a moment before he snorts.

“You’re clever.”

“Yes, I am,” she says, a dismissal, and he turned away with a nod. He reaches into his pocket to find his change, counting the coins and thinking hard.

Fuck it.

“Watch my bag?” he asks the girl, and shrugs in a Sure, whatever gesture.

He hops up and heads toward Scoops, pausing to let some kids pass him before he freezes in the entrance of it.

Because holy fucking shit.

There he is.

Steve fucking Harrington, in all his glory, wearing a cute little sailor costume with a cap on his head. He’s talking to a red-headed girl, looking bored and fed up, and he has to know her, because there’s no way he can talk to a regular customer like that. She’s laughing when she walks away, running to catch up with her friends, and Steve’s eyes follow her, half-smiling and shaking his head fondly before his eyes meet Eddie’s.

His face turns pink, and Eddie grins as he crosses the shop, approaching him.

“Munson,” Steve greets. Eddie looks him up and down, peering over the counter to see his long legs, and the horrific shorts he’s wearing. Eddie loves it.

“What the hell is that,” he says slowly, looking back into his eyes, “why are you wearing it?”

“Work uniform,” Steve says uncomfortably, and Robin Buckley appears in the window behind him, wearing an identical cap on her head.

“Edward,” she says dryly.

“Unfair that Robin isn’t short for anything, Buckley.”

“Hah.” She looks at Steve, who’s moved so they can see each other, looking back and forth between them. “What, you’re not gonna do your spiel?”

“What spiel?” Eddie questions, his interest piqued as Steve’s cheeks flush with colour again.

“Nothing,” Steve says, looking sharply at Robin. “There’s no spiel.”

“There’s a spiel,” Robin tells Eddie.

“What’s the spiel?”

“The spiel is—”

“Stop saying spiel,” Steve says loudly, and Robin and Eddie burst into giggles.

“Do it,” Robin encourages. Steve glares at her then looks at Eddie, who raises his eyebrows expectantly, and he sighs heavily, giving in.

“Ahoy, Eddie!” he says loudly and flatly, imitating enthusiasm. Eddie’s eyes widen. “Didn’t see you there. Would you like to set sail on this ocean of flavour with me? I’ll be your captain.”

There’s a short moment of silence before Eddie bursts into laughter, doubling over, and Steve sighs again.

“Incredible,” Eddie says when he can speak again, still giggling. “Amazing.”

“Alright. Are you here for ice cream or are you just gonna keep making fun of me?”

“This,” Eddie says, gesturing to Steve’s whole body (meaning the uniform, obviously), “is better than any ice cream.”

“Are you sure, ‘cause the USS Butterscotch is pretty fuckin’ good.”

“Oh, positive,” Eddie says, nods. “For sure. Better than any kind of chocolate fudge whatever.”

“Butterscotch isn’t chocolate.”

“I know what butterscotch is,” Eddie says defensively.

“I’m not sure you do.”

Eddie makes an indignant noise, but Robin interrupts.

“Alright, now you guys are just flirting.”

Steve whips around to look at her, and Eddie’s face flushes with heat as he glares at her, mouthing Shut the fuck up. She just grins.

“What do you want?” Steve asks when he turns back toward Eddie, his cheeks pink again.

“Uh. Guess I’ll try the butterscotch.”

“Good choice.”

Eddie watches him shamelessly just because he can, his eyes following him as he flips the ice cream scooper in his hand in way that’s unfairly cool, especially considering it’s an ice cream scooper, as he reaches into the tub of ice cream and scrapes at it. His sleeves are short enough that Eddie can watch his muscles flex and shift under his skin, and Eddie wishes the A/C was stronger in here.

“Dollar twenty-five,” Steve says, setting the cone on the counter, and Eddie holds out the coins, dropping them in Steve's hand. (He ignores the way his fingertips brush his palms.) Steve’s brows furrow as he counts them, and he pauses, counting again. “You’re a dime short, I think.”

“What?” Eddie leans over the counter to look at the change in his hand. “I thought I had a dollar twenty-five.”

Steve makes a face, shrugging and holding the coins out. Eddie’s missing a dime.

“Damn,” he says.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” Steve says, closing his hand around the coins and sorting them in the cash register.

“Huh?”

“‘S fine,” Steve says lightly, smiling, and he reaches for the tip jar, looking in it and rummaging through it until he produces a dime.

“Hey,” Robin says loudly behind him. “Those are my tips too, dingus.”

“I’m the only one working right now,” Steve says, dropping the coin noisily into the cash register.

“We have one single customer, you ass.”

Eddie questions her emphasis on single, but Steve doesn’t seem to notice.

“Thanks for coming,” he says brightly, smiling in a way that looks like it’s covering up a different smile, and Eddie takes his ice cream.

“Thanks, Harrington.”

He starts walking backwards out, watching as Steve pushes the cash register shut, his smile softening.

“We get off at five!” Robin calls loudly, and Steve turns around to her, hissing, “Shut the fuck up.”

Eddie winks at her.

“Aren’t they weird?” the girl asks when Eddie goes back to the fountain with his ice cream, and he cackles.

He sits and eats his ice cream as he people watches again, until he gets bored and pulls his book out of his bag.

“Oh, you’re a nerd,” the girl says, and he looks up at her.

“What’s wrong with nerds?” he asks, setting the book in his lap and eating the last of the styrofoam-y cone.

“They’re weird,” she says. Her friends giggle. “I know nerds. My brother’s a nerd.”

“Mhmm. Would I like him?”

“Probably. You know Dungeons and Dragons?”

Eddie grins at her.

“I’m a Dungeon Master.”

She looks him up and down again.

“Yeah, you’d like him.”

“Alright, well, nerd or not, The Princess Bride is a good book.”

“You’re reading about a princess?” one of the girls asks, and they all giggle as he puts on an offended expression.

“What, I don’t look like I read about princesses?”

They just giggle again.

They’re curious about the book, and why someone like him, as the leader so politely puts it, likes it so much, so he scoots closer and flips the book to the front page.

He puts on voices as he reads to them, acting the way he does during campaigns, theatrical and silly to make them giggle.

After a while the leader jumps up when a man calls Erica! loudly, and she waved him over. Eddie pauses, looking up.

“I told you girls to be at the entrance,” the man says, scolding them lightly.

“Sorry, Mr Sinclair,” one of the girls says. “We lost track of time.”

Mr Sinclair looks at Eddie sceptically.

“I’m showing them nerdy things aren’t all bad,” Eddie says, holding the book up, and Mr Sinclair just kind of scoffs.

“Alright, I like that you’re kind of reading,” he says to the girls, beckoning for them to get up, “but I need to get you all home, come on now.”

Eddie stands to help them up as a gentleman.

“Ladies,” he says lightly, waving goodbye as they leave, and they all wave back.

He keeps reading until the mall falls quieter, until he hears the sounds of metal being pulled down to block shop entrances, and he looks up when he hears Robin’s voice.

“—just saying I could have added a tally to the You Rule side, but you whiffed it— Oh, hey, Eddie!”

“Hey.”

“And I’m out of here,” she says brightly, moving to walk backwards toward the exit. “Night, fellas.”

“You don’t need a ride?” Steve asks.

“I biked here.”

“But—“

“It’s still light out, Steve, I got it,” she says, exasperated like it’s a daily conversation. “Don’t worry.”

“No detours,” he calls as she gets farther away.

“Do I like a detours kinda gal?”

“Yes,” Steve and Eddie says simultaneously, and she sticks her tongue out at them.

“So,” Steve says when she’s gone, turning to look at Eddie, who quickly averts his eyes from the hem of his shorts. “What’re you still doing here?”

“Uh.” Eddie hesitates. Steve seems to know exactly why he’s still here, based on his grin. “Definitely not… waiting around hoping you’d show up. Or anything like that.”

“Uh-huh.”

“So what’s the You Rule thing?” Eddie questions, ignoring the way his cheeks are flushed with heat.

“Uh. Kind of a long story,” Steve says, hesitating. “I can tell you over dinner.”

Eddie’s chest feels like it might explode.

“I would,” he says. “But I only had a dollar fifteen.”

Steve shrugs.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it,” he says lightly. “‘S on me.”

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Well, I’m gonna,” Steve says sassily, eyebrows raised. “You can’t stop me.”

“I could just… not go with you.”

“But you wanna come with me,” Steve says, grinning almost smugly. “Don’t you.”

It’s not a question, because he already knows. Eddie wonders if he’s see-through. If Steve can look at him and see right through his skin to the way his heart is beating faster just because Steve’s pretty eyes are on him.

“Dammit,” Eddie mutters, standing and snatching his bag. “Yeah.

Steve laughs, turning away.

“Come on.”

#this was so much fun #tysm #<3 #steddie #steddie ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #robin buckley #erica sinclair

182 notes · View notes

courtingchaos · 1 year

Text

7:29

Gator Tillman x Fem Reader

Sister piece to Shared Inflicted Pain and Vulnerable

Warnings: Gun Play. Read that again, gun play. Sex, threats of bodily harm, descriptions of violence, boy howdy I went wild in this one.

A/N: I had some prime time headcannoning happening with @dr-aculaaa and @trashmouth-richie and a lot of it bled into this and THIS ISN’T EVEN THE WIP WE WERE GOING ON ABOUT.

Cars rumble up the driveway slowly. The snow falls silently across the open garage door. You’ve been standing there watching long enough that a small drift has started forming around the soles of your boots. The cold burns your face like normal but your eyes especially today. A late night staring at your phone and waiting for a text that didn’t come until sunrise.

Out. Sent and read at 7:29 AM.

You aren’t checking up on him and he doesn’t feel obligated to tell you shit but there it stands.

Out. 7:29 AM.

The only person who’s given you any kind of space or grace is Ty and that’s only because he’s actually seen you this morning. Normally either squirreled away in the crawl space or huddled up in your tight corner, the fact that you’ve stood watch for three hours makes him worry. No quips and no sarcasm. No half lidded stare or unsettled long looks. Just that concentration creasing your brows and turning down your mouth, wide eyes staring into the frozen white yard. Ty had tried to give you a coffee, steaming in the cold, with about half the pint of cream in there like you normally do but you’d just shaken your head once. Didn’t even turn to look at him when you said no thank you. An actual ‘no, thank you Ty’, which is why he’s in your fathers office telling him about you being a gargoyle this morning.

“She has’t yelled at Donny or anyone. At all.” He tells him earnestly.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Normally I’d say yes but…somethin’ feels off about her.”

“Everything’s off about her.”

You don’t move when the trucks stop and the men pile out. Three elder brothers looking worse for wear and ten sheriffs officers pulling out three big gunnysacks. You watch them passively, eyes flicking between doors opening and closing. Someone snaps a tailgate shut and you shake your hand out of your coat pocket to check your watch.

9:47 AM.

Out. 7:29 AM.

Finally you see Roy’s big figure fold out of a driver seat. He leans in and pulls out his hat, gives it a dusting before settling it on his head just right. He’s making measured moves, delaying the walk inside to talk to your father and brothers. You watch him debate on a cigarette, tapping the carton once and then pausing before pushing the single smoke back in. Tosses the box back into the cab of the truck and gently closes the door. He locks it over his shoulder when he starts his slow walk up to the garage.

“Where is he?” You ask.

“Working.” He replies.

You don’t meet eyes. He doesn’t stop. You keep standing watch and Roy goes in to talk to your family about the things he misjudged.

It’s after 11 AM now and your fathers office is too full. You and four dipshits and Roy and two sheriffs. Neither are Gator, and Roy seems unfazed by that. You stand off to the side, always out of the way just in case, and you listen to Roy get loud. It’s your fathers turn and then your brothers kick off and very suddenly there’s a vice grip on your bicep. It yanks you forward and makes you lurch off balance. The big spade of a hand wraps tighter when it drags you in front of your fathers desk and everyone stops moving.

“You see this?” Roy shakes you once. “This is fuckin’ collateral. The only thing that works around here is about to get taken away if you don’t explain just what in the blue fuck happened out there.”

You can’t help the genuine surprise that crosses your face. You won’t shake and you won’t whine but you do flash your wide eyes up at Roy. He towers over you and your family now. He’s lowered his voice, no longer yelling just making his point clear. His hand tightens further around your arm and the small gasp you let out goes unnoticed by the men in the room.

“Now the rest of the boys are gonna be up here in about five minutes. You’ve got that long to walk your ass out to your garage so you can explain to me why I wasn’t able to get in.” Roy continues to stare your father down and starts counting out loud after a few seconds when no one seems to understand his threat. It kicks everyone into movement and the office clears before Roy or you make a sound.

“This is just business sweetheart.” He still pulls you along but at least you have your footing again.

One of the clocks in the shop reads 11:30 AM so you’ve only been collateral for less than an hour. Roy keeps you close and you wonder if he’s just waiting for Gator to show up before he pulls a firearm. You think Roy’s the type to make him do that kind of thing, mean son of a bitch that he is. He knows you two circle each other like predators fighting for territory and maybe he wants to see his boy win. You hold no ideas that Roy would know anything about Gator and his midnight promises.

“Now you know something Mr. Williams, I do believe we’re both being taken for a ride.”

“You don’t say.” Your father mutters, both men bent over the hood of a car examining a stack of blueprints. The yelling hadn’t continued past the office but Roy did keep you in his grip. It’s loosened enough that you can turn to watch the final truck make its way up the long drive.

All four doors open and the last of his crew crawl out. You can see those brunette locks bobbing around behind the bed of the truck, all mussed up from him running his hands through it probably. It isn’t until he finally makes the corner, heading for the garage that you see his face clearly.

Squinting in the morning light, his right eye is turning purple. There’s a smear of dried blood on his cheek from his nose. Lip split and swollen and there’s a weird tightening of your chest. He’s obviously fine, still walking on two feet and still breathing but you can’t stop staring.

Roy noticed your turned head and glances over his shoulder to take in Gators appearance. “Tillman, good of you to join us.” He lets your arm go finally. “Do me a favor and keep an eye on this one?”

The turn of Gator’s head to look at you seems like a lot of effort. There’s a wince under the guise of calmness and you wonder what the rest of his body looks like under his heavy coat. You don’t want to catch his eye out here, don’t want to share a look or a sneer in case it gets weaponized.

“Why?” He asks bluntly and stares at the side of his bosses head.

“Well son, I got a point and a call to make and she’s the lynchpin keepin’ this garage on track today.” Roy gives the two of you a smile that doesn’t reach his eyes and nods down at Gator’s right thigh. “Do what you’re good at.”

The pause in Gator’s movement is palpable. You notice it, your father and Roy notice it. A slight jerk of his head while he stares his boss down and Roy just raises his eyebrows, asking for confrontation with that same dead smile.

Gator sighs heavy before unclipping the gun and racking the slide, an unnecessary movement so you know he’s buying time. He shifts it into his left hand and presses the muzzle slowly against the back of your head.

Everything goes quiet. It’s a familiar feeling but not welcome, not like the other night. The clearing hadn’t felt this way, not with the cold in your lungs and your neck hot from his mouth.

He wordlessly hands it to you, cold metal heavy in your palm as he points off into the distance at a thick trunk of pine.

You know how to shoot but this is special. It’s his gun that he uses for all the shit Roy asks him to do. It might just be a Glock, but it’s his Glock and that means something in the grand scheme of you two.

“Have you ever had a gun pointed at you?” You shift your shoulders around while you find a comfortable stance.

“‘Course I have.” He scoffs behind you.

“What’d it feel like?” You relax your shoulders and take a deep breath, finger flexing on the trigger. On your exhale you fire and he’s walking up behind you to slide his good hand down your arm. He works that gloved hand into your grip and pulls back slowly. His face on your right side, breathing hot against your ear while he draws the muzzle up on your left. He keeps your hand trapped under his as he gently prods your temple. Even through your beanie you can feel the heat of the gun and you swallow. Even through all your layers he can see your breathing get shallow, his own speeding to keep up. The big clouds puffing out of the two of you dissipate slowly but he can still see you lick your bottom lip before you worry at it.

“Kinda like this.” He whispers against your ear.

Roy makes his phone call and comes back all smiles, genuine this time. He claps your father on the shoulder and the man still seems unfazed. When he turns to Gator and cuts his hand across his neck, clicking at him to put the gun down, there is no pause that time. It’s holstered and safetied without a second glance and your ears ring. You almost feel like you’ve been watching the last eight minutes from outside the garage, not fully inhabiting your body or space.

The danger with Gator is something you normally look forward to. A pressure release that helped clear your head. This was nothing like that, a moment between you two brought on by external forces. You’re starting to understand that feeling you had earlier, the one that’d squeezed your ribcage tight.

“Dad.” You feel like you might be back in your body now even though your voice sounds a mile away. Quiet and shaky you need to get your fathers attention to ask if you can leave. You need him to nod at you and tell you to get the hell out of dodge.

There’s a heavy heat at your back but you won’t turn around and acknowledge Gator. Not right now.

“Father.” Said a little more firmly, the wobble gone from your voice after you take a deep breath. It gets his attention and the look he gives you has a hint of worry around the edges. “Can I leave?”

Your father nods at you and before he can open his mouth to tell you yes you turn on your heel and make for the house.

You thought you’d heard someone walk upstairs while you were busy steaming yourself in the shower. Laid out across your bed is Gator, legs bent over the footboard. He’s obviously awake, heels of his palms digging into his eye sockets and it makes his arms flex in his tight undershirt.

“What the fuck are you doing in here?” You stand in the doorway toweling your hair. His coat and button up are tossed over his boots in the corner with his holster hung off the back of your desk chair.

“Too much noise.” His lips barely move. Still pressing his hands into his eyes, you can see the pressure on his forming bruise.

“You’re gonna hurt yourself.” You say, throwing the towel in the pile of laundry by the door. He just grunts. “Thought that was my job.”

He drops his hands and looks down his nose at you. You watch him breathe heavy for a minute before he stares back up at the ceiling on a big exhale. “You doin’ okay?” He’s asks quietly.

“You goin’ soft?” You’re quick to call him out on his bullshit.

That makes him growl while he hefts himself up to sitting. His knuckles, bruised and split, grip the edge of your mattress. “I ain’t soft god damnit. You spun outta there after that fuckin’ asshole-“ He cuts himself off. Looks to the side and stares holes into your bookshelf while you stare holes into the side of his head.

“Oh don’t tell me you care Gator.” You scoff, trying to ignore that tight feeling in your chest again.

“I said I wouldn’t.” He rolls his tongue over his bottom lip a few times before he stands slow. “I told you he couldn’t make me.”

You shrug and tuck your hands under your arms. “Well you didn’t, so let it go.” Neither of you had brought up the ride again. You fully expected him to ignore it or pretend it never happened. Now though he stares heavy at you from your bed, his eyes roaming over the arm that Roy had grasped so lovingly.

“I was wondering if he left a mark on you.” He points a finger, bouncing it toward your arm. The bruise peaks out from under your t-shirt sleeve.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You ask lowly, jutting your chin forward. You slide your hands from your middle into your sweats pockets so he can’t see you picking at the side of your thumbs, your nervous habit brought on by his judgement. He finally looks you in the eye when he starts his walk across the small bedroom. You don’t move until his chest is pressed against yours and makes you step back. He grabs the door over your shoulder and throws it shut so he can crowd you against it.

“Only I get to do that.” He stares down at you.

“So you just get to make up rules about me?” You stare right back at him from under hooded eyes. This is the kind of thing that makes your heart race in a good way. He could pull his gun on you right now and you’d be all smiles. Probably even laugh when he’d press it up under your chin. He wouldn’t shoot you though, that’s the whole point. What everyone seems to miss.

“Yes. You told me so.” He says simply and drags his hand over your shoulder and down your arm till his grip covers the bruise. His fingers dig into the sensitive skin while he flicks his eyes between yours.

“Then what about this?” You grab the right side of his face, thumb resting on the bruised cheekbone. You press down and watch his face scrunch up.

“That’s business.”

“So’s this.” You shake your arm under his hand. “Roy said so.”

When he leans in you expect him to bite, to give you a matching lip to his but it’s a firm press. Dry lips that you’re becoming too familiar with. He still hangs onto your arm, uses it to pull you as close as he can, his breath huffed out across your cheek. He kisses you hard while your hands find their way up his undershirt, fingers skating over hot skin until he flinches away from you.

“That business too?” You lay your hand flat on that tender spot and he lets you go. Pulls his shirt over his head collar first and walks the three steps back to the edge of your bed. He sits heavy and jerks his head to beckon you over.

You don’t follow immediately, instead watching him unbutton his pants while you step out of your sweats. You’ve never seen him fully undressed so the dog tags clinking around on his chest catch you off guard.

“What branch?” You ask, pointing at his chest when he gives you a confused look. Instead of responding, he leans forward and hooks your knee to pull you so you stagger and stand in front of him. He doesn’t give you soft touches or light fingertips, his rough palm rubbing up your unshaved thigh, splayed wide so his fingers inch under the elastic of your underwear on your hip. While he explores, you grab the clutch of metal around his neck and scan it quick before he can snatch it out of your grip.

Tillman, Gator A.

9246106545

O Neg

Roman Catholic

“Catholic?” You raise your eyebrows, jingling the metal around when you catch a small oval between the two tags. He just hums disapprovingly and pulls the chain till the tags clink out of your grip. Instead of looking him in the eyes again you push a finger into a bruise forming on top of his shoulder, silently asking your question again.

“It doesn’t count if it’s business.” He looks up at you, frowning.

“Then you can’t be mad about Roy.” You don’t think you two have ever had a conversation this quiet before, even in the truck. Normally you’re too busy laughing gleefully at him while he pins you against something heavy.

“I’m mad ‘cause he used me.”

“He always uses you.”

“Not like that.” He slides his hand further up to grab your ass and pull you down to straddle his lap. “He knew what he was asking.”

He gets you out of your shirt and keeps you on him. Mouths at your chest and pulls skin between his teeth and makes you hum when he sucks a trail of muddled red down to the tops of your tits. You’ve got your fingers dug into his hair to hold him in place while you roll your hips, hoping he’ll take the hint and throw you off and onto your bed. Instead he grabs your chin, pinches it between his thumb and index finger and holds your attention.

“Just me.” He doesn’t ask. He gives you an open look like he’s waiting for you to nod your head. Instead, “What about you? M’supposed to just let that happen?” You throw your hand at his ribs and that tender spot. “We didn’t talk about you last time.” His small grip on your chin pinches harder. Gator pulls your face down so his lips brush against yours when he talks.

“I don’t let just anyone break my wrist.”

Your first laugh of the day skips across his cheek where it peters off into a breathy kind of whimper when you really think about that. The tears slowly leaking down his temples, hand cradled to his chest and the groan of pain that turned into a long groan of pleasure when he came.

“Say it then.” You challenge him with a harder press of your hand against those bruising ribs. “I’ll get the fuck up right now and leave I swear.”

“Just you.”

He heaves you off of his lap and onto your back. He yanks your underwear off and tosses them before ripping the rest of his clothes off to join them.

Just you.

Your hands dig in at his bruises, looking for a crack you can needle at. He leans into you to mouth at your shoulder before inching down to the ringed bruise and sinking his teeth in. The sensitive skin on the inside of your bicep imprints easily, his teeth sharp enough to make you gasp loudly. You try to jerk away reflexively but he hangs on, grabs your wrist to hold it down to the bed. He sucks on the thin skin once before letting go and running his tongue over the deep mark. Licks at you to sooth the sting and moves down your arm, nipping along until he hits your wrist where he runs his nose along and takes a deep breath. He catches your wide eyed stare before opening his mouth again, wedging your wrist between his teeth. It’s a slow build of pressure but you know if he bites you again like he just did, he’ll draw blood.

“Gator.”

His grip on your arm just tightens along with his teeth, a grin spreading out from behind your wrist. You want to tell him to be careful, for once in his life. The idea of a bleeding mark on your wrist giving you the first pause of your relationship until you notice a softness in his gaze. His cock is heavy against your thigh but neither of you move for friction, just waiting the other out for blood.

“Why did you text me this morning?” It slips out. He just bites down harder. “Were you trying to make me worry?”

He breaks skin and you yell, his teeth tinged pink behind his grin when he lets you go. There’s a role reversal happening when he keeps laughing at you and you keep scowling at him. His tongue sneaks out to run over the bite. He chases a small bead of red down your arm.

“I stayed up all night.”

“You’re up anyway.”

He’s not listening, or he’s being willfully ignorant. “I don’t let anyone else touch me, Gator.”

He drops his arm to his thigh but keeps yours in his grip. His jaw works back and forth like he’s chewing on his thoughts, your red still staining the inside of his lips.

“Not even the shop guys?”

You shake your head. His gaze drops to your wrist held limply in his fist and his face goes blank.

“I don’t care if you’re fucking anyone else, I just wanted…” You trail off quietly, unsure if you want to finish that thought.

“I’m not.” He sounds far away. “I don’t…really care much.”

“I find that hard to believe.” You laugh and he just scowls down at your arm. “I mean, every time you sniff me out you’ve got your hand down my fuckin’ pants.”

He’s tired and in pain. He doesn’t want to get into it. It’s easier to just lay you over a table than to explain his reasoning. It used to just be him and his anger up in his head but you’ve crept into the cracks somehow and he’s starting to think you might be able to read his thoughts. Too similar personalities skirting the borders of anger and dangling feet off the edge of sanity.

He can feel your eyes roaming, looking for a spot to dig in at and he snaps out of his deep thoughts. He crawls over you, leaving your bleeding wrist on the sheets, and hovers for a moment before dipping his head into the crook of your neck. It’s his favorite part of you, if he’s being honest and stupid. Even fresh out of a shower you still smell like you, that tang of metal and something earthy like you’ve been digging in the frozen dirt. He bites you once, a good chunk of flesh between his teeth before he lets go to move down your chest. He leaves a trail of pink tinted marks down your stomach as he makes his way between your thighs, strong fingers pushing and pulling your legs until he settles, one leg draped over his shoulders and the other one tucked up along his ribs. He keeps your hips pinned when he loops his arms around them. He lays a hand flat to help spread your lips, his tongue broad and flat when he licks a long line from your center to your clit.

You whimper, a sound he doesn’t think you’ve made around him before. He’s only ever tasted you off of his fingers and this first dip into you is rich and heady. He grunts into your parted flesh and your hands wind in his hair and pull him in closer. He takes his time because he can. In the quiet of your room he can barely make out the trucks slamming closed outside or the deep yell of Roy echoing off the trees. His phone vibrates from somewhere in the middle of the floor and it just drives him on more. Buries his nose deep in your cunt and digs his fingers into your soft thighs when you roll your hips against his face.

You make quiet sounds above him and pull on his hair and he doesn’t feel like coming up for air even when his nose starts to ache from being pressed into your skin. He won’t tell you any of this because that’d be against these silent rules you two have made up and enforced. Instead he focuses the tip of his tongue on your clit and when he uses his teeth for a moment you seize up, his name sighed out long to your ceiling.

He doesn’t give you time to refocus, just untangles himself from your legs to hitch them up on his hips before flipping you both. He rolls you on top of him, one hand flat on your lower back and the other guiding his cock through your folds. “Sit.”

No hesitation from you, just a shared groan when he stretches you and hits deep. It takes you a moment to to move again but the stuttered movement of your hips makes his eyes roll back.

“Does that feel good?”

“Fuck”

“Use your words, Gator. Does that feel good?”

He hears you fucking around with something but he can’t focus on much outside the wet heat of you. Not until he feels the cold press under his chin. “Answer me.”

His eyes snap open to find you staring down at him. You haven’t stopped moving, your tongue traces your lips and you grin. He should have known better than to leave his fucking gun within arms reach.

“Come on baby, tell me.” The tip of the gun digs into his chin and he’d be a liar for saying no. You don’t even have your finger on the trigger, laid flat along the body of it and he’s sure the safety is on. “Do you like this?”

“Yes.” That comes out a lot lighter than he meant.

“Just you and me.” Your eyes shine in the light filtering in, pupils blown wide while you ride him. You look crazy and you look tangled, your hair a wild halo around your head. He wants to look down and watch himself sink into you but you push his chin up roughly when he tries. With his head shoved back into the pillow, you lean on his chest and speed up and he’s violently reminded of the last time you did this, his newly healed wrist flinching away from you momentarily.

“Afraid I’m gonna break it again?”

“You’ve got a f-fuckin’ gun to mmm fuuuck-to my head, you tell me.” Saying it out loud makes his stomach clench, the fast pool of heat rushing when you grind down hard on him. The press against his chin falters for just a moment and he takes that second roll you over, back where he should have left you. Somewhere in the background noise his gun clatters on the hardwood and he pins you to the mattress. Drives into you fast and hard, his hand finding itself around your throat. The unhinged laugh you let out makes him feel crazy and the tether of his orgasm snaps taut.

Through the white noise he can hear you talking, can feel your hands sliding down his arm to hold his hand still against you while he fills you.

“Good boy.”

He shudders and shakes his head, releasing you when he hears your breathing get thin.

“Just me, yeah?”

He’s tired and in pain and he nods. Hazy thoughts swirl, brought on by your quiet praise and more than 24 hours of being awake.

“Stay here, okay?”

He feels heavy and tired and stupid. He keeps it to himself but the chaos of the outside is different from the chaos between you two and in that contained dissonance there’s a red drop of quiet. He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he drifts all the same when you run a cool finger up and down his spine and he taste the remnants of that frozen earth still behind his teeth.

It’s dark when you wake up, Gator’s big frame heavy and languid, draped over your middle, head laying in the valley between your breast. Cuddled is the word you’d use but not out loud. He’s awake too, you can feel him blinking against your skin. His head shifting minutely when your fingers run along the edge of his scalp. Even in the dark of your bedroom you can see the bruises forming on his back under the red lines your blunt nails made. You won’t ask him about it but whatever Roy got him into today beat the shit out him. Gator takes a deep breath and you can feel his dog tags dig into your stomach, pressed between the two of you. “You getting up?”

“No.” He mumbles.

You’re hesitant to lay your hands on him in fear of him shrugging you off but when you let your palm slide down from his hair to the back of his neck he doesn’t move. When you walk your fingertips over his bicep he just tucks his hand under your shoulder. “Where’s my gun?”

“On the floor.” You roll your head to spot it next to your bed where you’d dropped it earlier.

“Is the safety on?”

“What are you, a cop?” You laugh and feel him huff out what could be a laugh. “Of course it’s on. I’m not stupid.”

“What time is it?” He isn’t moving at all, fully expecting you to have all these answers. You blindly feel around for your phone on your nightstand and wince when the light is too bright for the dark blanketing you two.

“It’s 8…PM. You got somewhere to be?” As if on cue you hear his phone vibrating from the pile of clothes on the floor. You wait to see if he’ll get up but he doesn’t react, just tells you no and rolls his head the opposite direction. When you drop your phone again he grabs your hand and plants it on the back of his head wordlessly.

The only window in here is level with your bed and you can stare out it directly to the massive garage out back. The flurries started up again sometime while you two were asleep and they whip by the glass, blurring the figures moving around outside. You can make out the lone figure standing tall by his truck, cowboy hat tilted up at the house and smudge of blue light by his head.

Fingers wound in Gator’s hair you laugh lightly, “Too bad, Butch Cassidy.” You whisper at the window. You can feel Gator’s jaw working like he wants to say something but he keeps quiet and stays put. Stays in your room. Stays in your bed. Stays between your chest and keeps his fingers twisted in your sheets.

Just you, he’d said. Just you.

#Gator Tillman x Reader #Gator Tillman Smut #Gator Tillman Fic #My Work #My Fic

105 notes · View notes