#i just wanted to get this out into the world first <3

[iamred-iamyellow]

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Dancing in the Courthouse

♥ masterlist | request rules | part of my 1k event

♥ pairing: oscar piastri x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: In 2021 you and oscar decided to elope due to your unpredictable schedules. now that you have more stability in your life, you were able to throw a dream wedding with the man you loved most in the world.

♥ smau + written - as always none of the pictures are mine <3

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: first fic apart of the 1k event!

-Paris, 2021-

The streets of Paris were bustling as you took a seat in your Uber. You could hear a Taylor Swift song playing faintly on the car's radio as you pulled out your phone.

You

hey osc I'm on my way back

Oscar checked the notification and panicked a little internally. He slipped the device back into his dress pants and shook his hands.

"Relax, tout ira bien," Estie assured Oscar. (translation: everything will be fine)

He sighed and turned towards the two French men, "Are you sure?"

All Pierre did was laugh.

"Call me when it's over," Pierre said with a smirk and guided Esteban out the door, into an elevator.

You were in France on a girls night out with your best friend Kika, whom you met through Formula 1. Little did the two of you know that Pierre and Esteban snuck over to your hotel room in order to help Oscar set up a surprise.

You tapped your keycard on your hotel door and called out your boyfriend's name. You set your purse down on a small marble table and kicked off your heels, making your way through the main room.

A small trail of pink rose petals guided you to the terrace causing your heartbeat to pick up.

Was this really happening?

You opened the glass doors to find more rose petals surrounding the floor and a very handsome Oscar. You strode over to him in complete shock until he grabbed your hands in his.

"Y/n you have been my best friend for as long as I can remember," he said as his thumb drew circles on one of your fingers. "You have stood by me since the beginning of my career and I could never imagine a life without you. I know we don't get to spend as much time together as we'd like to, but that is why I wanted to do this today."

He slowly got down on one knee in front of you and pulled out a black velvet box to reveal a silver ring.

"Will you marry me?"

You squatted down to his height and mumbled, "Is that even a question?"

You cupped his face in your hands and kissed him gently, "Yes of course I will."

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-July 4, 2024-

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris, lilymhe, and 300,572 more

ynln london girl

📸 creds: @/oscarpiastri

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user1 lmao the oscar picture creds

oscarpiastri I risked my life for that first pic

ynln @/oscarpiastri you were on another balcony?

user3 if anyone risked their life for that picture it's Alex

user2 speaking of alex she looks SO pretty there

carlossainz55 red nails for ferrari

ynln anything for you carlitos 😽

iamrebeccad so so true and real

user4 pretties

user9 lets all manifest an oscar win for this weekend

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by oscarpiastri, nicolepiastri, hattiepiastri, and 1,481,583 more

ynpiastri oops I guess the cat is out of the bag huh! the rumors are in fact true, oscar and I are married. we have been trying to keep it a secret since our elope in 2021, but it seems as though I slipped up with a photo on my insta. at least it was the perfect timing for the reception we're throwing this summer 🥰

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nicolepiastri see you at the sequel wedding!!

ynpiastri <3

user1 ...sorry?

user8 PARDON

user12 THEY'RE ACTUALLY MARRIED

user2 POOKIE YOU CANT JUST POST A SHIRTLESS OSCAR LIKE THAT

user7 her username change I am so endeared

mclaren how many of you knew...

logansargeant I did

alexandrasaintmleux I did

charles_leclerc I did

landonorris I DIDNT?!?!

landonorris @/oscarpiastri how come charles knew before me

charles_leclerc @/landonorris he's my son???

iamrebeccad I'm so happy for you!

ynpiastri tysm becks 🥹🫶

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pierregasly, oscarpiastri, charles_leclerc, and 123,740 more

wagupdates the girlies pulling up to the belgian paddock

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user1 the color scheme 🛐

user2 PLS did they plan this for y/n’s wedding?

wagupdates @/user2 we think so!!

oscarpiastri I guess I need to step up my fashion game

charles_leclerc @/oscarpiastri I can help 😁

ynpiastri @/charles_leclerc no you cannot

user7 I love them

user4 they're GORGEOUS

francolapinto 😘

user8 ITS MR STEAL YOUR GIRL

user3 HAHAHA

user9 FRANCO Y/N IS MARRIED

charles_leclerc @/francocolapinto Te sugiero que elijas sabiamente tus próximas palabras (I suggest you choose your next words wisely)

francolapinto sorry sorry! its a joke its a joke 😅

user10 the threatening spanish 😭

carlossainz55 @/user10 I taught him that

fernandoalo_oficial @/carlossainz55 and I taught YOU that

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

liked by pierregasly, ynpiastri, carmenmundt, and 563,885 more

francisca.cgomes rich bitch energy

tagged; @/ynpiastri @/alexandrasaintmleux

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user1 are you shopping for dresses

francisca.cgomes mayybbe

ynpiastri GORGEOUS

francisca.cgomes NO YOU 😚

aussiegrit @/nicolepiastri do i get to walk oscar down the aisle

nicolepiastri no 😐

charles_leclerc that’s right because i am

user2 the family seating is gonna go crazy lol

user5 so what’s the dog situation?

landonorris bark

ynpiastri @/landonorris NO 😭

user5 I MEANT LEO AND ROSCOE 💀

ynpiastri @/user5 leo we know is definitely going to be there! 🥰

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

-Wedding Day-

liked by alex_albon, maxverstappen1, carlossainz55, and 1,749,053 more

ynpiastri 💍

tagged; @/francisca.cgomes

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danielricciardo 🥹

pierregasly vous êtes tous les deux magnifiques (you both look gorgeous)

user6 the fact that kika is her maid of honor

user7 IM NOT CRYING

user4 the venue is STUNNING

✧˖ °. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖°✧

There was a salty ocean breeze on a cliff-side of Monaco, the place you and Oscar picked for the wedding.

There were dozens of familiar faces along with beautiful greenery and pastel flowers decorating the space.

You were sat at your table with your husband Oscar as the toast’s began to start.

“Hi,” someone said into the mic with a smile. “I’m Kika.”

There were a few soft laughs from the crowd. She pulled a piece of paper out of her gold-colored dress.

“When I found out you eloped without me that day in Paris my first thought was ‘fuck you’.” she said causing some more chuckles to come from the guests.

“It was only because I wouldn’t get the chance to give you the speech I had planned—but here we are today and I’m so glad I finally get to say it. Over these past couple years you have been my best friend, in and outside the paddock. I have so much love for you and I couldn’t be happier for your relationship with Oscar.”

You got up from your seat and hugged her, eliciting a few ‘aws’ from the room.

Lando stood up next with the mic, “Oscar was the guy on the grid no one could shut the up about,” Lando spoke into the mic and everyone laughed. “I didn’t get it at first, but then I met him, and I got it. And I felt the same when I met Y/n. You two are lucky to have each other. Congrats, mate.”

He raised his glass of champagne causing everyone to clink their glasses and cheer.

liked by lewishamilton, aussiegrit, nicolepiastri, and 1,937,954 more

ynpiastri wifey

view comments

user1 this is so cunty

wagupdates we heard that y/n’s heel broke and oscar had to carry her to the car (hence the last picture) 😭

user7 she is SO pretty

patriciooward great to see you again osc!

user6 I. LOVE. THEM.

user2 omg they’re so hot

user3 y/n’s outfits today >>>

lilymhe the reception was beautiful

ynpiastri <3

[d3stinyist1red]

ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ ɴᴇʀᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴘᴀʀᴛ 𝟸

yan nerd who gets put into a group project with you and some other npcs, as he calls them, not paying any attention to neither of them, rather going to practically sit on your lap and cling onto you the whole period.

yan nerd who annoys the other members of the project bc hes js there helping you, letting only you copy, and they could literally hear the down bad things hes whispering in your ear (hes doing it on purpose bc he thinks they want u and he needs those bitchs to back off)

"Hey (nerd yan name), why arent you helping us as well? We literally having zero fucking clue what to do." One of the members asked, scrunching his eyebrows together in confusion.

yan nerd who ignores them and goes back to acting cringy to you as you look as if hes holding u hostage.

yan nerd who is an absolute loser that prob has greasy fried hair, ofc he calls u his alpha and its him and u against the world.. uhm so! this is insane!

yan nerd who literally hyperfocuses on anything u like, making himself liking it aswell. Js so he can “accidentally” bring them up in conversation, and see the way ur eyes lit up in surprise at the fact he remembered ur interests. Whenever you talk about anything you like, he quickly talks about it himself to make him seem more likeable to you,

yan nerd who in the middle of class, day dreams abt you literally with roses and hearts in background as you say "Your so hot~" (hes delusional pls..)

yan nerd who has had one gf but that was the start of his obsession with you and he was trying to stop himself with being obsessed

lets js say it didnt work bc when he was making out with his gf, he kept whimpering and moaning out your name...😭

yan nerd who tries to impress you with fun facts as he puts up his glasses up the bridge of his nose. He’s the type to text you random facts throughout the day, just to remind u of him

ɪʟᴜᴠᴍʏɢғʏ/ɴ

did u know that dogs have dreams?

I just wanted to let yk so when we have 10 kids, 3 dogs, and a cat together baby <33

yan nerd who over analyzes everything, every convo with u leads him to be in the dark of his room, smiling and delusionally think u need him in ur bed and that u def want him bc u looked at his lips for 0.01 secs

yan nerd who even practice conversations in their head before seeing Y/N again, trying to make sure everything goes perfectly. Though, whenever he go infront of you and actually try to talk to you, he loses all composure and says the first thing to mind. "Can u sit on my nos- I mean!"

yan nerd who lowk has rizz tho

“Hey, did you know sea otters hold hands when they sleep, so they don’t drift apart? Kinda like how I wouldn’t want to drift apart from you, baby" He says looking at you with the most down bad eyes, rubbing your thigh under the table as you try to pay attention to the math lesson

"bro unhand me"

"If i do, will you bounce on it?"

yan nerd who, nvm does not have rizz

yan nerd who is a loser who spends most of his time humping a body pillow of u <333

MORE COMING OUT SOON!!!!!

RESQUESTS ARE CLOSED

[aloeveratarot]

what you don't see about yourself

pick a card ᡣ𐭩

note: this is just a short general reading so if anything does not seem to resonate please simply let it go. feedback and requests are very welcome.

extended reading is on my patreon ᡣ𐭩

pile 1:

two of wands, lover, prostitute

you may lack confidence in your love life ~ you may believe that you are not worthy enough or good enough to maintain a romantic connection. i'm getting the sense that for a majority this is tied into self-worth, body image or just low self-esteem. however, others can effortlessly imagine you in a loving relationship, capable of being loved and deservingly so. they see you for all the good you have to offer ~ especially in regards to your love life. other people can see how you can make another person fulfilled romantically ~ you're attractive inside and out. i believe all you truly lack is confidence in yourself.

pile 2:

nine of swords, virgin, guide

you may not realise that you tend to take on more than you can chew at times. you might often spread yourself thin yet refuse to realise you want (and even need) to take a few steps back for your own sake. others see that you are in need of some rest, relaxation and self care. some of you may even need to hear that you should seek out guidance from a professional or simply start listening to the advice of others and their concerns. right now, your needs should come first and you should start by validating your own feelings rather than ignoring them.

pile 3:

nine of pentacles, five of swords, damsel

you don't see that you are capable of achieving anything in life ~ you are in a fortunate disposition where you can succeed in any path. however, you likely place limits on how far your abilities can extend, which is just simply false. you may feel stuck and even indecisive but the world is your oyster and i get the sense that no matter what doors open for you, you'll be able to support yourself in the end. you tend to completely underestimate your skills and abilities ~ if you were to allow yourself to take a step forward you may prove to yourself that you are far more competent than you once thought.

[mononijikayu]

puddin’ pop — kamo choso.

GENRE: alternate universe - modern au!

WARNING/S: fluff, romance, opposites attract, female! reader, not safe for work (nsfw), r-18, smut, body praise, kissing, rough sex, p-i-v sex, pet names (puddin' pop, sweetie and others....), societal prejudice, love, overflowing cuteness, slice of life, humor, light-hearted, being in love, romantic gestures, healthy relationship, tender affection, sexual intercourse, aftercare, boyfriend – girlfriend relationship, depictions of sexual acts, depiction of body praise and care, depiction of naked bodies, mention of sexual innuendo, mention of alcoholic consumption, mention of sexual intercourse, metal head bf! choso, pastel girlie! gf reader, pastel girlie gf! loves her metal head bf! choso so much, everyone if you're looking for love, make sure its as stinking cute and loving as this one, its what everyone deserves!!!;

WORD COUNT: 7.8k words.

NOTE: this entire thing was inspired by this art made by the lovely ushy on twitter!!! i was just dazzled and in love with the possibilities of who metal head bf choso could be like. i was enthralled. so, a lot of credit goes to ushy for creating such spectacular art that inspires me and others well!!! please check out ushy's art and support them too!!! anyway, this is the first time choso won the polls so im happy!!! i hope you all enjoy this!!! i love you all <3

masterlist

if you want to, tip! <3

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU LIKE THE FACT THAT YOU BOTH WERE DIFFERENT. Because it compliments you both so well, almost like yin and yang. At least that’s what Choso likes to say. And you agree with him. Choso and you couldn't be more different on the surface.

You were the pastel princess of the campus, always draped in floral skirts, baby pink cardigans, and bows in your hair. Everywhere you went, you seemed to bring a little sunshine and joy, something that stood out against the often drab college environment. People on campus often teased you, calling you a "walking cotton candy" or a "flower fairy."

Your boyfriend Choso, on the other hand, was a looming presence. Tall and muscular, his arms were covered in dark tattoos of skulls, serpents, and symbols no one dared to ask the meaning of. He wore black band shirts—Slayer being a favorite—ripped jeans, and chunky boots. His piercings glinted under the sun, and his eyeliner gave him a perpetual brooding look. Kamo Choso was the guy you didn’t approach unless you had to.

And because of this, people always wondered how you two could possibly be together. You couldn’t have been anymore from different worlds, galaxies entirely. Whispers never failed to follow you both wherever you went on campus, speculating that you must be too sweet for him or that he was just putting on an act. No one could see how you fit until today. And if you were being honest, you could care less about their invalid opinions.

Today was Choso’s concert with his metal band, and you hadn’t seen each other all day due to classes. And you can tell that it was already getting to you. It was fine to text him and all, but you like having your boyfriend around. You like holding him and kissing his cheeks. And he was warm. And it was getting colder. As you stood chatting with some friends outside the student union, the heads started to turn.

“Is that Choso?” one of your friends whispered, wide-eyed.

You turned, and there he was, his black combat boots stomping across the quad toward you. Your face flushed, your eyes bright eyed. Your lips peaked into a smile. But you noticed the look on his face and you couldn’t help but blink.

His face was still set in that familiar grimace that made people nervous, but you could tell immediately something was different. His hands were hidden behind his back, and his eyes flicked to the ground every few steps, like he was nervous.

“Hey, sweetie.” Choso said, his voice a soft contrast to his intimidating appearance. You could feel people watching you both, but Choso didn’t seem to notice. He reached behind him and pulled out a black band T-shirt—one with a matching Slayer skull logo to the one he was wearing.

“Uh, I was wondering if you... y’know, wanted to match tonight?” he asked, his face flushing red under the tattoos. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, as if he wasn’t the lead guitarist of one of the loudest, most intense bands on campus. He was just your beloved boyfriend Choso, looking like a shy boy asking for a favor.

There was a moment of stunned silence from the people around you. You could feel their confusion, the gears in their heads turning as they tried to reconcile the image of the “scary goth guy” with the one standing before you, blushing and fumbling over his words.

You giggled, clicking heels as you stepped closer and took the shirt from him. “Of course, babe! I’d love to match with you tonight.” You leaned up to kiss his cheek, making his blush deepen as a soft, content smile spread across his face. “I’m thankful you thought of me at all, babe. Thank you so much.”

“I always think of you a lot, sweetie.” He says to you in reply, which only made you swoon even more as you let your body embrace his own as you squealed about how much you loved him. And he smiled, as though the world was the most beautiful place.

That was when everyone seemed to get it. They saw the way Kamo Choso looked at you like you were the most precious thing in his world, how gentle he was with you despite his intimidating exterior. They realized that underneath all the black clothes, makeup, and tattoos, he was a gentle giant—soft, sweet, and completely devoted.

The campus finally understood why you worked. And yet all at once in the same breath, still not understand it at all. But you could hardly care.

As you slipped into the matching shirt, a wave of excitement ran through you. The black Slayer logo against your usual pastel aesthetic was jarring, but you loved the idea of supporting Choso in his world. Even if metal concerts weren’t your usual scene, being there for him made it all worth it.

You walked hand in hand toward the venue where his band would be performing later that evening. You enjoyed having his fingers intertwined with yours and his skin rubbing against you. You looked at him and grinned, which he returned. You both just enjoyed each other’s company, no matter what. Well, that’s what happens when you’re each other’s world.

Onlookers still stared, trying to wrap their heads around how the “campus goth king” and the “girly sunshine queen” made sense together. It wasn’t long before one of your friends caught up with you, curiosity bubbling over.

“Okay, I have to ask. How does this even work?” she asked, her eyes bouncing between Choso’s heavy chains and your flower-printed purse. “You guys are, like, total opposites.”

Choso chuckled softly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of your hand. You smiled up at your beloved boyfriend, feeling the warmth in his gaze before answering. You didn’t even want to stop looking at him. Your boyfriend was the prettiest, loveliest boy you ever laid eyes on. And everytime you looked at him, you just fell more deeply in love. 

“Well, it’s pretty simple, really.” you started, glancing at him for confirmation. He nodded for you to continue. “We balance each other. He’s got this tough look and I’m more on the bright and bubbly side, but it’s what’s inside that really matters.”

Choso squeezed your hand and added, “She brings me a lot of peace. People think I’m all dark and broody, but if there was any color in me, its my sweetie, here. She’s the one who helps me stay grounded. And honestly, I don’t think I’d ever smile this much without her.” His eyes softened as he spoke, showing a rare vulnerability. “I just….love my sweetie, you know?”

Your friend’s expression shifted from confusion to understanding, the pieces falling into place. “That’s actually... really sweet.” she admitted, looking at Choso with a bit less intimidation and a lot more curiosity. “I guess it’s just surprising because you both seem so different on the outside.”

You laughed, nudging Choso playfully. “Well, I’ve always believed it’s what’s on the inside that counts, right?”

Choso smiled shyly, looking a little embarrassed but happy. “Yeah, and we love each other. Doesn’t matter if we’re all black or pastels. We’re happy together. That’s it.”

By now, more people around you were starting to take notice, seeing the softer side of Choso they’d probably never expected. It became clear to everyone that your differences weren’t a problem—they were the reason you worked so well together. You could be the sunshine in his life, and he could be the calm, steady presence in yours.

As you approached the venue together, You could see that Choso’s bandmates were setting up the stage. They were all dressed in their usual dark, edgy attire, but they greeted you with warmth and fondness. It’s been like this for as long as you remember. They’re really the nicest people you know. And you’re happy because it means your boyfriend will always be surrounded with good people. And because of that, you would be too.

“Looking good in that shirt!” one of the band members teased, smirking at Choso as if to say, You really got her to match you, huh?

Choso grinned sheepishly, clearly proud but trying to play it cool. “Yeah, well, she’s supporting us tonight. Best girlfriend ever, right?”

You giggled and nodded, giving him a quick peck on the cheek. “Only for you, my baby.”

Before the show started, you found your place in the crowd. It was always the same one. Choso alway insisted that you always be near him as possible to not only make sure he knows you were safe — but so he can always see you and wink at you. And then you would blow back a kiss each and every time. It’s your boyfriend’s favorite part of the show.

You take a sip of your drink. People smiled at you and greeted you. You were a regular at the shows already. But it was always surreal being surrounded by people dressed in all black, while you, with your pastel skirt peeking out from under the band shirt, stood out like a daisy in a field of midnight roses. And all of them were happy to see you there too. Choso’s shows were always such a happy, safe space for you. 

But as the music started, something magical happened.

The moment the first riff tore through the air, it was as though Kamo Choso transformed before your eyes. His quiet, reserved demeanor melted away, replaced by an electrifying energy that radiated from the stage. The powerful riffs and heavy beats pulsed through the venue, reverberating in your chest, and you could feel the intensity of every chord he struck. His hands, the same ones that were always so soft and tender when they held you, moved with precision and power across the strings, commanding the music with effortless grace.

Despite the raw energy of the performance, there was something oddly calming about watching him like this. Seeing him completely in his element, doing what he loved with such passion, brought you a quiet sense of pride.

Every note, every beat, seemed to echo the essence of who he was—fierce, strong, but also thoughtful and deeply connected to his art. And in that moment, it became clear just how much of himself he poured into his music. You could tell that the stage was where he felt most free, and watching him there made your heart swell.

As the concert progressed, the crowd was fully immersed in the music, their energy feeding off Choso’s commanding presence. But every now and then, amidst the chaos, his eyes would seek you out.

Between songs, during brief moments of stillness, he'd glance over in your direction, his gaze softening when he found you in the crowd. It was his silent way of making sure you were okay, that you were enjoying the show, and it warmed your heart to know that even in the middle of performing, he was still thinking of you.

And then, you noticed the shift in the crowd.

People started glancing between the two of you—first at Choso, then at you, as if they were piecing together something they hadn’t quite understood before. They saw the way he’d search for you with his eyes, the subtle smile that would tug at his lips when he spotted you. They saw how your face lit up, your cheers louder than anyone else's, a beacon of support and pride for him to latch onto. 

It was as if, in that moment, the connection between the two of you was undeniable. The bond you shared became as visible as the music that surrounded you, a harmony of its own. Choso’s fans, who had admired him for his talent and stage presence, were now witnessing a softer side of him—a side that belonged solely to you. The glances from the crowd turned from curiosity to understanding, like they finally saw the deeper layers of the person who held their admiration.

And as the music swelled and the concert reached its climax, you could feel it too: the unspoken love that bridged the gap between the stage and the audience, a love that was yours and his, seen in every stolen glance, heard in every note. In that moment, it was as if the whole room was in tune with the rhythm of your connection, an energy that transcended the music itself.

When the final song came to an end, Kamo Choso walked over to the edge of the stage, still holding his guitar, and mouthed, “I love you.” 

Your heart swelled as you mouthed it back, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much. You just love him so much, and it made you the happiest person alive.

After the show, a few students from campus came up to you both, clearly still surprised but now more accepting of your relationship. One girl, who you recognized from your sociology class, shyly approached you.

“You two are actually kind of... adorable together, you know?” she admitted. “I didn’t get it at first, but seeing you both... it makes sense now.”

You smiled, giving her a nod of appreciation. “Thanks. We may seem like opposites, but we’re perfect for each other.”

As you and Choso headed home later that night, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride in how you’d shown everyone that love doesn’t have to look a certain way. It doesn’t matter if you’re a pastel-wearing girly girl or a tattooed metalhead. Love is about finding someone who understands you, who balances you, and who makes your life better just by being in it.

And that’s exactly what you and Choso had—something perfectly imperfect, something that made sense in all the ways that really mattered.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

AFTER CLASSES SEPARATED YOU BOTH, YOU FINALLY CAME TOGETHER. You haven’t seen Choso since he got stuck for his violin recitals, so you were bored. It’s not like you weren’t doing anything in fashion classes, but you wanted to see him.

He was your energy boost. Just as much, he was your happy pill. And with a deadlock with your project, you needed to see him to freshen up. So, he finally had free time, he told you he’d come see you.

That’s also how you and Choso decided to go on a date, something simple yet special—just the two of you wandering through the city, hand in hand, without a care in the world. You were dressed in your usual soft pastels, a baby blue sundress fluttering around your legs as you walked, while Choso, in stark contrast, wore his typical all-black outfit. His band tee hung loosely over his broad frame, and his boots clunked with each step beside you.

As you entered the small café, people couldn’t help but glance in your direction, eyes widening at the sight of the unexpected pair. You were the picture of sweetness, like something out of a fairytale, while Choso looked like he just stepped off the stage of a rock concert. The two of you couldn’t be more different visually, yet anyone who took a closer look could see the way your fingers intertwined so naturally, how Choso’s eyes softened every time you spoke.

You found a cozy corner booth, and as you sat down, Choso immediately slid into the seat beside you rather than across from you, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. He pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, and you smiled up at him, already feeling the warmth of his presence.

“What do you want, puddin’ pop?” you asked sweetly, your voice loud enough to catch the attention of the café staff nearby. The barista paused mid-order, eyes darting toward Choso, as if unsure she heard you right.

Choso, the ever-serious and brooding figure, glanced down at you with a soft chuckle, his fingers tracing light circles on your arm. “Whatever you’re getting is fine, babe.” he murmured, his tough exterior melting away completely in your presence.

The barista, clearly stunned by the interaction, couldn’t hold back her curiosity when she came to take your order. “You two… are so cute together!” she said, hesitantly at first. “I mean, I never would’ve guessed, but… it works!”

You laughed, used to the surprise reactions by now. “Thank you! Yeah, we get that a lot.”

The barista smiled, her nerves relaxing as she took your order. As she left, you turned back to Choso, your grin wide and playful. “See? Even she thinks you’re sweet, puddin’ pop.”

Choso rolled his eyes good-naturedly, though the faint blush on his cheeks betrayed how much he loved the nickname. “You and that nickname…” he muttered, but the smile tugging at his lips told you he didn’t mind one bit.

“Well, you are my puddin’ pop, aren’t you?” you teased, leaning into his side. “You’re like pudding—soft and sweet—and a lollipop, ‘cause you’re a treat.”

Choso groaned playfully, covering his face with his free hand as if embarrassed, but the warmth in his voice gave him away. “You’re gonna make me lose all my street cred, you know that?”

You giggled, giving him a peck on the cheek. “You’ll always be the cool goth guy to everyone else, but you’re my sweet puddin’ pop.”

As the two of you enjoyed your time together, sipping on drinks and sharing pastries, people in the café couldn’t stop sneaking glances. They saw the stark differences in your appearance but couldn’t deny the undeniable connection between you.

Choso’s tough exterior was all but gone when he was with you, replaced with soft smiles and gentle touches. To them, it was unexpected, but to you, it was perfectly normal. Choso, for all his darkness and edge, was the sweetest person you’d ever met, and he showed it in every little way.

But that didn’t bother you. You and your beloved boyfriend continued to talk about things that interest the two of you. Recently, he told you about his progress in some violin concertos and you told him about your progress on your final project for the design class you were in. The world was an echo when your Choso was talking, after all.

As you left the café hand in hand, Choso gave you a loving glance. “You know I’d do anything for you, right?” he asked, his voice quieter now, like it was just meant for your ears.

You smiled up at him, heart fluttering. “I know. And that’s why you’ll always be my puddin’ pop.”

And as the two of you strolled through the city, the sight of the goth guy and the pastel princess, people couldn’t help but admire how well you fit together. You were a perfect, unexpected match—proof that love doesn’t have to look a certain way.

As you and Choso wandered through the city, you could feel the occasional glances from passersby, but by now, you were so used to it that you didn’t even pay them any mind. Choso, however, always kept his guard up just a little, glancing sideways at anyone who looked too long. Not out of annoyance, but more out of protectiveness. Even though he was soft with you, he still liked to make sure no one thought they could mess with his sunshine.

You led him into a little boutique that had caught your eye, one filled with pastel-colored dresses, accessories, and things that practically screamed “you.” As soon as you walked in, you heard a small group of girls gasp near the entrance. You caught a snippet of their whispered conversation:

“Oh my God, is that him? The goth guy from campus?”  

“Wait, that’s his girlfriend? I didn’t know they were actually dating. They’re so... different!”  

“But look how cute they are together!”

You giggled softly, squeezing Choso’s hand as he rolled his eyes, his face slightly red from the attention. He wasn’t much for the spotlight when it came to your relationship, but it was hard to avoid it when everyone seemed so fascinated by the contrast between you two.

As you browsed through the racks, you couldn’t help but pull out a pastel pink sweater with tiny hearts embroidered on it. “This is so cute!” you exclaimed, holding it up for Choso to see.

He gave it a look, raising an eyebrow. “It’s… definitely you, sweetie.” he said with a smirk, though his tone was affectionate.

“Of course it is! What do you think, puddin’ pop? Would you wear it if I bought a matching one for us?”

Choso let out a low chuckle, shaking his head. “Yeah, no. I’ll stick with my black, sweetie. Thank you though."

You pouted playfully, nudging him. “Come on, just once? For me?”

Choso softened, and you could see the internal battle playing out on his face. You knew he’d do anything to make you happy, even if it meant stepping way out of his comfort zone. “Alright, fine sweetie.” he relented, sighing dramatically. “But only because you’re cute.”

Your eyes lit up, and you threw your arms around him in a quick hug. “You’re the best!”

The girl at the counter couldn’t stop staring as you and Choso approached to pay. She looked completely bewildered, like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “I—I love your outfits….” she stammered, scanning the pastel sweater. “You two are really… um, adorable.”

Choso, clearly flustered, mumbled a quiet “Thanks!” while you beamed and responded. “Aren’t we? He’s my sweet puddin’ pop, after all.”

The cashier blinked in surprise, probably not expecting the goth guy who looked like he belonged in a metal band to be called something so cute. But as she handed you the bag, you caught the faint smile tugging at the corner of her lips. It was as if she’d just witnessed a secret that made perfect sense in some strange way.

After leaving the boutique, Choso let out a deep breath, clearly relieved to be out of the spotlight. “I can’t believe you convinced me to get a pink sweater.”

You giggled, taking his arm and leaning your head against it. “You’re gonna look so cute, though! I’ll take a picture of us together and keep it forever.”

Choso groaned, but there was a smile on his face as he shook his head. “Only for you. I swear, you’ve turned me into a complete softie, sweetie.”

You looked up at him, eyes sparkling. “But you’ve always been a softie. You’re just finally admitting it.”

He gave a soft, resigned laugh. “Yeah, yeah… whatever you say.”

The two of you continued your walk, eventually ending up at your favorite park. As you found a bench to sit on, the sun began to set, casting a golden glow across the trees and flowers. It was quiet and peaceful, and you felt Choso’s arm wrap around your shoulders again, pulling you close.

For a moment, everything was perfect. You didn’t care about the stares or the whispers or the way people seemed to be so fascinated by the two of you. All that mattered was how you felt when you were with him—like the world was a little brighter, a little softer.

You glanced up at him, resting your chin on his shoulder. “You know, no matter how many people are surprised by us, I still think we’re perfect together.”

Choso smiled down at you, his eyes filled with a warmth that only you got to see. “I know. I wouldn’t trade this for anything, sweetie.”

And as the sun dipped below the horizon, the two of you sat there in comfortable silence, content in your own little world where opposites didn’t just attract—they completed each other.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

YOU HAD FREE TIME, AND HE DID TOO. So, it was just right for him to come by and cuddle with you. It was a quiet evening when Kamo Choso walked into your apartment, his usual black boots clunking against the hardwood floor as he made his way to where you were curled up on the couch. You looked up from your book and smiled when you saw him, your pastel-colored socks contrasting with the dark, brooding aura he carried everywhere.

"Hey, puddin' pop." you greeted sweetly, holding your arms out for him.

Choso's lips twitched into a soft smile as he walked over to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. He settled beside you, his arm casually draping around your shoulders as you snuggled into his side. For a moment, the two of you just sat there in comfortable silence, but you could tell there was something on his mind.

He cleared his throat a little awkwardly, running his hand through his messy hair. “Hey… so, I, uh… I wrote a new song, sweetie.” he started, his deep voice a little unsure.

You sat up, instantly interested. “Really? That’s amazing! What’s it about?” 

His eyes darted away for a second, the usual confidence he exuded seeming to falter as his cheeks tinted pink. “Well… it’s about you.”

Your eyes widened in surprise, your heart doing a little flip at his words. “Me? You wrote a song about me?”

He nodded, clearly trying to play it cool, but you could see the faint blush creeping up his neck. “Yeah, I mean… I’ve been working on it for a while. It’s for the band. I wasn’t sure if you’d be into it, though, since, you know, you’re not really big on metal.”

Your heart practically melted at his bashful tone. Choso, the brooding goth guy who looked like he could crush someone with a glance, had written a song about you? It was like every romantic dream you never knew you had was suddenly real.

“Oh my gosh, puddin’ pop!” you squealed, your hands grabbing his arm in excitement. “I want to hear it! I don’t care if it’s metal, I’ll love it just because it’s from you!”

He chuckled, a little nervous but clearly pleased with your enthusiasm. “Are you sure? It’s kinda heavy, sweetie…”

You practically jumped up from the couch, tugging him along with you. “I’m sure! Come on, I need to hear this!”

Choso laughed as you dragged him to his guitar, which he had brought over for practice. He picked it up, settling it on his lap as you sat back down, eagerly waiting for him to start. The way your eyes sparkled made his heart swell with affection. He strummed a few notes, tuning the strings before looking at you with a small smile.

“Alright, sweetie….” he said softly, his voice gentle in contrast to the deep rumble of the guitar. “Just… keep an open mind, okay?”

You nodded eagerly, clasping your hands together as if you were about to witness the performance of a lifetime. Your eyes were shining brighter than ever before. Your face was focused on him, awestruck already. It’s as if you had decided that it was already the best song in the world (which to you, it was.)

Choso took a deep breath before he started playing, the guitar riff heavy and intense, but there was a surprising tenderness woven into the melody. It was raw, powerful, but there was an undercurrent of emotion that made your chest tighten. 

He began to sing, his voice low and gravelly, but the lyrics were… beautiful. They spoke of love, of safety, of someone who brought light into his dark world. Each word made your heart race faster as you realized just how deeply his love for you had inspired every note, every line.

Even though you weren’t as big into metal music as he was, you could feel the emotion behind each chord. It was him, pouring his heart into the music in a way only he could. You watched him, completely enraptured, as he sang about how you made him feel—how you were his bright spot, his calm amidst the storm.

When he finished, there was a brief silence, the air between you both charged with emotion. He glanced up at you, a little hesitant, waiting for your reaction. “So… what do you think, sweetie?” he asked quietly, his tough exterior cracking just a little as his vulnerability showed.

You didn’t even know how to put your feelings into words, so you did the only thing you could think of. You launched yourself at him, wrapping your arms around his neck in a tight hug. “Oh my sweet sweet puddin’ pop! That was beautiful! Oh my God, I can’t believe you wrote that for me! I love it, I love you!”

Choso’s arms wrapped around you instinctively, his deep chuckle vibrating through his chest as he held you close. “You really liked it? Even though it’s, you know… metal?”

You pulled back just enough to look him in the eyes, your smile wide and full of love. “It doesn’t matter what genre it is! You put your heart into it, and I could feel it. It was perfect.”

Choso’s smile softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your lips, his hand cradling the back of your head. “I’m glad. I just… wanted you to know how much you mean to me. You’re everything, you know?”

You felt your heart swell, your love for him overflowing. “You’re everything to me too, puddin’ pop. I can’t believe you wrote me a song,” you gushed, still in awe of how deeply his love for you translated into everything he did.

Choso blushed again, clearly not used to being fawned over like this. “Well… you inspire me, sweetie.” he mumbled, his voice gruff but full of affection. “Always.”

You grinned, resting your head against his shoulder as he held you close. “I’ll always be your biggest fan, no matter what. Even if I’m not the biggest metalhead.”

He chuckled, pressing another kiss to your hair. “That’s all I need.”

You stayed wrapped in Choso's arms for a while, the warmth of the moment lingering between the two of you. His heart was still pounding against your cheek, and it was clear that even for someone as stoic as him, sharing the song with you had meant the world.

"I can't believe you were nervous about showing me that, hm?" you whispered, tracing little circles on his chest. "It was so beautiful. The way you turned your love into music... you’re amazing, puddin’ pop."

Choso let out a soft, almost bashful chuckle. “Yeah, well… it’s easier to play it in front of a crowd than just for you. I wanted it to be perfect, sweetie.”

Your heart melted at his honesty, and you squeezed him a little tighter. "It was perfect. And it just makes me love you more."

Choso smiled softly, the tough-guy act completely dropped as he tilted your chin up to meet his gaze. “Good.” he said quietly. “Because I’ll probably write a dozen more songs about you.”

You laughed, your cheeks flushed with warmth. "Promise?" you teased, raising an eyebrow playfully.

“Promise, sweetie.” he murmured, leaning down to kiss you again, slow and tender. 

There was something about Choso’s kisses that always made you feel like the world had stopped for just a second—like the two of you were the only ones who existed. And in moments like this, it didn’t matter if you didn’t share his love for metal music or if your pastel wardrobe clashed with his dark, edgy style.

When the kiss ended, you both settled back on the couch, with Choso resting his guitar against the wall. You nestled into his side, your fingers laced together. The silence between you was comfortable, but you could tell there was still something on his mind.

“I’m thinking about playing it at our next gig, sweetie.” he finally said, glancing down at you. “I’d want you there… if you’re up for it.”

Your eyes widened with excitement. “You want me there when you play it? Of course, I’d love to be there!”

Choso looked relieved by your enthusiasm, though there was still a hint of nervousness in his eyes. “It’ll be loud, though. Probably going to be louder than our last gig since it’s with other metal bands.”

You grinned, nudging him gently. “I’ll bring earplugs, don’t worry. But I wouldn’t miss it for the world. I want to be there when you play our song, you know?”

Choso’s gaze softened, and he squeezed your hand. “You don’t know how much that means to me, sweetie. It’ll be the first time I’ve played a song that personal.”

You smiled, leaning your head against his shoulder. "Well, now it’s personal to me too. I’ll be there, cheering you on in my pastel outfit, and I’ll make sure everyone knows I’m the one you’re singing about."

He chuckled, imagining the sight of you in the crowd, all sweetness and sunshine, while his band rocked out on stage. “You’ll definitely stand out, sweetie.” he said with a teasing smirk.

“Good! I want everyone to know I’m your biggest fan, puddin’ pop!” you replied with a grin.

Choso kissed the top of your head, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “You always have been.”

The rest of the night was spent in quiet contentment. You stayed wrapped up in each other, talking about his band, the upcoming concert, and the thought of hearing your song live for the first time. Choso shared little stories from his rehearsals, his voice full of excitement whenever he mentioned the moment he’d finally reveal the song to the audience—and to you.

“I’m already planning my outfit!” you joked, imagining what you’d wear to one of his gigs. “Something cute but not too out of place.”

Choso laughed, pulling you closer. “Wear whatever you want. I’ll be proud to have you there, no matter what.”

You looked up at him, your eyes full of love. “I’ll be there in the front row, cheering for you. And afterward, we’ll celebrate with a giant lollipop, since, you know, you’re my puddin’ pop.”

Choso groaned, his cheeks turning a faint shade of red, but the smile on his face didn’t fade. “You’re never gonna let that nickname go, are you?”

You giggled, shaking your head. “Never. It’s part of the deal.”

He rolled his eyes, but the fondness in his voice was undeniable. “I guess I can live with it… as long as you keep being my inspiration.”

And with that, the two of you fell into a peaceful silence again, your hearts full of love. As the night continued, you couldn’t help but think about how lucky you were. Choso might’ve been tough on the outside, but underneath all of that was the sweetest, most caring person you’d ever met. And now, knowing he’d written a song about you, you felt even closer to him than ever before.

No matter how different you seemed on the outside, Choso’s love for you translated into everything he did—from his quiet moments with you to the powerful music he created. It was all a reflection of the way he saw you, and it made you fall even deeper in love with your sweet, tough, and tender-hearted puddin’ pop.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

IT’S BEEN A WHILE FOR BOTH OF YOU SINCE ITS FINAL WEEK. Your metalhead boyfriend Choso finally arrives at your dorm, his presence immediately filling the room with warmth. He steps in close, his strong hands wrapping around your waist, pulling you gently but firmly against him. His breath is warm on your skin as he leans down, his lips softly grazing the sensitive area around your ear. 

"Want to do it, sweetie?" he murmurs, his voice husky, a teasing grin tugging at the corners of his lips because he knows your answer already. “I missed you….”

“I missed you too, puddin’ pop.” You whispered back, a sly smile on your lips. Your eyes lustfully gazing back at him. “So so so much….”

“Just how much, sweetie?”

“A lot.” You whispered as your fingers trailed onto your thighs and a little bit lower. Choso was already sure what he’d find down there. He knows you too well. His little sweetie. “Help me, puddin’ pop. I need you.”

As soon as you give him the slightest confirmation, he effortlessly scoops you up, cradling you in his arms like you weigh nothing. His lips never leave your skin as he walks you towards the bedroom, each kiss a little more insistent, a little more needy. Between the kisses, he leans in close to your ear, whispering the dirtiest, most wicked things, his words making your skin tingle.

As Choso carries you, his lips trail down your neck, leaving a path of heat with every kiss. His grip tightens slightly around your waist, the tension building with each step toward the bedroom. The way he whispers into your ear, voice low and raspy, sends shivers through your entire body. His words are teasing, laced with promises that make your mind race, each one more wicked than the last.

He lays you down gently on the bed, his body hovering over yours, eyes dark with desire as he drinks in the sight of you. His hands roam your body, slow and deliberate, as if savoring every moment, every inch of your skin. His kisses grow deeper, his whispers more urgent, as his desire for you becomes undeniable. 

"You're mine tonight, sweetie." he breathes, his voice thick with lust.

You smiled. “I always was, puddin’ pop.”

Choso’s lips crash against yours, the intensity building as his hands explore your body with purpose, claiming every inch of you. His touch is firm yet careful, as though he’s memorizing the way you react to each kiss, each graze of his fingertips. His words, laced with that rough edge, never stop. 

“I’ve been thinking about this all day, sweetie.” he mutters between kisses, his breath hot against your skin as he trails his lips back down to your neck. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

He pins your wrists gently above your head, holding you in place, his eyes locking onto yours with a burning intensity. He leans down again, his lips brushing your ear as he growls softly, “I want to hear you say my name… over and over.”

His words send a rush of heat through your body as he lowers himself, every movement slow, teasing, deliberate, until the anticipation becomes almost unbearable. The room feels electric, the air between you charged with desire, as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most enticing things.

Choso’s hands slide down your arms, his grip firm yet tender as he keeps you pinned beneath him. His breath is hot against your skin, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss before trailing back to your neck, down to your collarbone, teasing with every move. The way he takes his time with you, savoring each reaction, has you breathless.

"You're so perfect for me, sweetie." he whispers, his voice thick with lust and affection. "I love watching you like this."

His hands move lower, fingers tracing your sides, sending shivers down your spine as he leans in closer, his body pressing against yours. He kisses you deeply again, the kind of kiss that makes your head spin, before pulling back just enough to meet your eyes.

“I’m not stopping until you’re completely mine tonight, sweetie.” he growls softly, his words dripping with intensity. The way he says it sends a rush of anticipation through your entire body, making you ache for his touch even more. 

Without breaking eye contact, he lowers himself further, his kisses moving lower, trailing heat in their wake. Every touch, every word leaves you feeling completely consumed by him, the world around you fading away until it's just you and him, tangled together in this moment that feels both endless and electrifying.

Choso’s kisses become more intense, his pace deliberate yet teasing, as if he’s relishing the control he has over every inch of your body. His hands trace slow, burning paths along your skin, each touch igniting a fire inside you. He knows exactly how to make you melt beneath him, every movement calculated yet filled with raw passion. 

He leans back up, his eyes locking onto yours, dark with desire. "I love how you react to me, sweetie." he murmurs, voice dripping with a mix of dominance and affection. "The way your body responds... it drives me wild."

His fingers trail lightly across your chest before grabbing hold of your waist, pulling you even closer, his breath ragged with anticipation. His lips return to your ear, teeth gently grazing the sensitive skin as he whispers, "You're going to scream my name tonight."

The way he says it sends shockwaves through your body, the desire in his voice leaving you aching for more. His hands grip you tighter as he kisses you deeply, his passion consuming you entirely. Every whispered promise, every soft growl, every lingering touch leaves you yearning for more, completely lost in the moment, knowing he’s not letting up until you’re both completely spent.

"You’re mine, just mine." he growls, his voice low and possessive, making it clear that he’s going to fulfill every wicked promise he’s made tonight.

Choso’s lips crash against yours once more, each kiss more urgent and consuming, as if he’s claiming you entirely. His hands grip your hips firmly, guiding your body beneath his, the heat between you growing unbearable. The intensity in his eyes makes your breath catch, his gaze full of need, raw desire, and something deeper — a craving that goes beyond the physical.

He presses his body closer, his breath hot against your skin as he continues to whisper the dirtiest, most intimate words in your ear, his voice sending shivers down your spine. “You don’t know how much I need you right now, god…..” he murmurs, his words laced with desperation and control.

His touch becomes rougher, more insistent, as he moves in rhythm with the tension building between you. Every kiss, every graze of his fingertips, pulls you deeper into the moment, making you forget everything else. It’s just you and him, the weight of his body pressing down on you, the way his voice rasps your name in between breaths, each sound sending a jolt of pleasure through you.

"Say my name, sweetie." he growls, his voice husky, lips hovering near your ear. "I want to hear it. I want to hear how much you need me."

“Cho, cho—” You choked in pleasure as he continued to find him satiating you with pleasure over and over. “Baby, p–puddin’ pop. Please. Oh—”

You feel yourself slipping, losing control as his words become more possessive, each touch pushing you closer to the edge. The room feels smaller, the air heavy with heat and desire as Choso claims you again and again, each time more intense than the last.

And just as you think you can’t take any more, he leans down, his lips brushing your skin as he whispers, “You’re mine. Only mine. Sweetie, you know that right?” His words linger in the air, echoing through the haze of pleasure that surrounds you both, sealing the night with a promise only the two of you can understand.

“I do, I do.” You moaned out in a frenzy. “Baby, my puddin’ pop, I do. O–only, uh…only yours!”

Choso’s pace quickens, his movements becoming more urgent, more desperate, as if he’s on the verge of losing control himself. His grip tightens around your waist, fingers digging into your skin as he pulls you closer, the weight of his body grounding you while pushing you to the edge of sensation. His lips are everywhere—your neck, your collarbone, your lips—claiming you with every kiss, every touch. 

Your breaths come in ragged gasps as the tension builds between you, the heat reaching an unbearable peak. He groans softly, his voice thick with need as he whispers, "I’m right there with you... just let go for me." His words are a command and a plea all at once, and the sound of his voice is enough to push you to the brink.

With a final, shuddering thrust, the world around you seems to fall away, the pressure inside you finally releasing in a wave of pure ecstasy. Choso’s name tumbles from your lips, over and over, exactly the way he wanted. His own breath hitches as he follows you into that climax, a deep, guttural groan escaping his throat as his body tenses against yours, the pleasure overwhelming him too.

He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath warm and ragged against your skin as he rides out the last waves of pleasure, holding you tightly as if he never wants to let go. His fingers gently stroke your skin now, soft and soothing in contrast to the intense passion you just shared. 

For a moment, everything is quiet, just the sound of your mingled breathing filling the room, the intensity of the moment settling into a soft, shared intimacy. Choso presses a tender kiss to your forehead, his voice a low whisper as he says, “You’re everything I need, sweetie.”

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. epilogue

As the intensity fades and the world starts to come back into focus, Kamo Choso gently eases himself beside you, his arms never leaving your body. His expression softens, all the hunger and fire replaced with tenderness as he looks at you, his thumb brushing over your flushed cheek.

"You did so good, sweetie." he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. His touch is slow, deliberate, as he strokes your hair, helping you come down from the high. He wraps the blanket around both of you, pulling you into his chest, his body warm and comforting against yours. 

He reaches for a water bottle on your bedside table, offering it to you with a small smile. "Drink up, hm?" he says gently, knowing how much you need it. After you take a sip, he tenderly kisses your temple, his fingers tracing soothing circles along your back. 

The atmosphere shifts into something soft and intimate, his hands carefully massaging your sore muscles, making sure you feel cared for. His voice is low, murmuring sweet reassurances, "I've got you… I’ll take care of you."

Once he's satisfied that you're comfortable, Choso shifts so you're nestled in his arms, your head resting on his chest. He stays close, his fingers gently stroking through your hair, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. There's a certain peace in the quiet moments after everything, and you feel completely safe with him, wrapped up in his warmth.

"You know I’m not going anywhere tonight, right?" he says softly, his voice laced with affection. He leans down to kiss the top of your head, his arms tightening around you protectively. "I’ll be here, all night, right next to you."

The two of you lie there, tangled in each other, as the night settles around you. The outside world doesn’t matter anymore—just the warmth of his body, the steady rhythm of his breathing, and the way he holds you as if you’re the most precious thing in the world.

As sleep starts to pull you in, Choso whispers, “I love you, sweetie.” his voice barely audible but filled with sincerity. And in that moment, everything feels perfect, knowing he’ll be right there when you wake up. Your beloved metalhead boyfriend.

[hedgehog-moss]

hello & good morning/afternoon/night! feel free to ignore this ask if you don't want to or don't know how to answer. i have been following your blog for years now, i think, and i have been accompaning your life through the pictures you post. i always had similar dreams of living in a farm or just in a more "secluded" place in general - hiddem away from big cities, i mean, closest place being a small town or even village, you know - and though i have lived alone for 2 years now i have a lot of fears of living by myself in ambient where there is relatively less people (even if there are neighbors not that far away). yknow, classic fears, of being robbed, my house being broken into, etc etc. once again i know it's a different world and the probability of something like this happening is actually higher in places with a bigger populational number, but have you ever had experiences like this? have you ever felt a similar fear? i'm trying to find out if this is something i really want.

Hi ! I love that I read your message last week right after I fondly reminisced about hearing murder screams in my woods at night. I've been thinking about it and I think regardless of what statistics say, some people feel safer surrounded by people in a town while others feel safer in more secluded places—I mean there's a probably a personal temperament aspect to this... I've always loved going out for walks in the middle of the night but I couldn't fully relax doing that in cities, while here I find it so relaxing. It's so dark and quiet it feels like walking at the bottom of the ocean <3 It's the closest I can get to the peaceful life of the sea cucumber. And since I'm alone in this forest and there's no one for several km around I feel like nothing bad can happen to me. But I have city friends who would never consider going for a walk with me in the woods at night.

Can't recommend having a medium-to-large dog enough! Despite his debonair manner Pandolf is a good guard dog—one time that I got to test this was when someone parked their car on the side of the road maybe 300m from my house, and stayed there for almost a week. It wasn't a camper van, just a normal car, and every time I went to see it during the day it was empty, but I saw lights in there at night. I didn't like it at all! Why park here in the middle of nowhere. Near my house. This isn't a convenient spot to fish or anything, so where are you all day...? I remember the night I noticed the light in the car from my window, and I sat in my bed like, okay, someone's over there, but even if he gets to my door I have 2 other ways to get out of the house, my nearest neighbours are like 40min away by foot through the woods, I know my woods better than this guy, I'll be fine.

It's the only time that I recall feeling a bit antsy at night—and Pandolf was very alert as a result, he could tell I was nervous and when I went to close the chicken coop in the evenings he went patrolling all over the place in a way he doesn't usually do. I have a natural talent for not doing anything about problems and hoping they'll go away on their own, but after a few days I eventually told a distant neighbour about this weird car, and he came the next evening to talk to this person—but the car left that same day. And when my neighbour came to tell me he hadn't found the car, it was already dark and he parked his car in front of my house and at first Pandolf refused to let him get out. Even though he knows this neighbour and the guy had half-opened his door and was like "Hey Pandolf it's me!", Pan just stood there growling continuously like Cujo. It was good to see that although he's a really friendly dog, if I'm freaked out he can get quite intimidating.

Other than that one weird car story I've never really felt scared being here alone at night, and I didn't worry about that before moving here either, I was impatient to go on nighttime walks in the woods, rather! But having neighbours I'm on friendly terms with that I can call for help if needed, and whose house I can reach by foot, is reassuring; so I think mostly it's a matter of finding the degree of seclusion you're comfortable with. There are all sorts of gradations between living in a big city and living like the first Desert Father :) Is there any way you could try spending some time alone in a more remote area for temporary stays, like holidays, to see if you get used to it and come to appreciate it, or if you feel safer in more populated places?

[lyinginmeadow]

Shadows will guide you home | Azriel × reader

Summary: Some fae don't like the idea of the Archerons turning into high fae and reader being one in unfamiliar city makes a perfect opportunity for an intervention Warnings: acotar related violence, not super descriptive, language, slight angst Word count: 1.4k a/n: Hii, this is my very first fanfic, please remember to be kind. <3 Also English is not my first language so it may be a bit rough.

Being another Archeron sister was quite exhausting. The constant comparison between you ever since you were born created a dark place deep within you. After years of being poor, starved, and uneducated, the family regained their riches back thanks to Feyre. The cost left you empty, breaking your heart into a million pieces. You wanted your sister back more than anything, you would return your newfound lifestyle to have her with you again. Taking lessons together, sharing laughs, and pretending as if everything is normal. As if she never left and their father hadn't left them to starvation.

Instead, the Gods were laughing in your face as you with two of your sisters were changed and thrown into the world of high fae. While you got your sister back, there were matters to be taken care of. Leaving you alone in a city and with species foreign to you. You had met the inner circle while you were still human. They were nothing but kind to you then, but you assumed that was because you were Feyre's sister. Now they haven't paid you much mind because their hands were either full with court business you didn't understand or your sisters. You were left scarred inside while pretending it hadn't affected you as much.

''Are you listening?'' Asked a pretty blonde in a red dress, Mor. ''I'm sorry, I just spaced out a little. What were you saying?'' You smiled, red creeping up your cheeks. ''You are free to explore the city, you don't have to feel caged inside.'' She returned your smile. ''Oh, I don't feel like that. I...I guess it's kind of strange to be here. Is there an apothecary around here?''

''Yes, it's in the square just next to the bridge you can’t miss it,'' Mor replied. ''I must go, but I will see you during dinnertime.'' She smiled for the last time as she disappeared into thin air. She came by just to invite you as per Feyre's request. Your sister knew you were too polite to decline any offer and without it you would probably not show up.

''Right.'' You mumbled under your breath as you looked out of the window. In the reflection, you caught the sigh of a shadow. You whipped around to see nothing. Signing, you turned to the window again thinking about certain Illyrian familiar with shadows. When you first met him, he was like a rock that you could lean onto while the queens invaded your home. You talked, feeling an instant connection and thought he felt the same. You didn't remember what happened during the changing process, your brain blocked the memory altogether. But after waking up in Velaris, he didn't seem to notice you, rather seeking the company of your older twin sister.

You knew it wasn't rational to feel hurt by this, but that didn't stop your heart from throbbing. Exhaling a deep breath you went to explore the city as Mor suggested, feeling sick of your little pity party.

After hours spent in the city, it was starting to get dark. Nights here were magical, but your fear of them only amplified during years spent in the dark streets trying to provide for your family by any means necessary, so you tried to hurry back to the house. Taking a turn into an ally wasn't a choice you wanted to make, but panic started to take over every action your body made. Looking around you knew you were lost and didn't know where to go next.

''Looking for something?'' You whipped around with shock in your eyes. ''No, but thank you. My partner is just around the corner.'' You smiled politely your instincts kicking in as you lied smoothly. A shadow caressed your skin as if to soothe your worries and disappeared. You didn't have time to think about it more as the man standing in front of you stepped closer. ''Are you sure? We could help you, Y/N.'' Another dark figure from behind you said so near you could feel his breath on your neck. ''I don't know who you think I am, but that is not my name. And I do not need help from strangers. So let me pass.'' You tried to will your voice not to tremble, but it was of no use. You were starting to give in to the panic rising within you. ''And we don't need humans becoming high fae and highjacking our court. But here you are.'' Said a male in front of you while pulling out a knife. “This will send the message." Continued another one next to what you pressumed was the leader. One againts three were not the odds you prefered.

You had no idea how they found out your name or how they knew of your fate of becoming fae. "Feeling threatened by a female?" You knew getting a rise out of them was not the smartest idea. But maybe it could gain you valuable time for someone, anyone to notice. Velaris was supposed to be peaceful after all.

"You think you're funny, huh? We'll see if you'll find the knife just as entertaining." The male behind you pulled your hair harshly earning a scream from you. You didn't understand how they could blame you for something you had no control over. “Watch the alley, will you?” The male infront of you ordered the one standing next to him as he lifted his hand to your face. The knife danced lightly on your cheek leaving you defenseless. "Just so you know, maiming your face will be a pleasure." He whispered to your ear as he increased the pressure on the knife drawing blood.

The whole alley turned pitch black. You had fae senses, but the dark was completely impenetrable yet familiar. You could only feel your hair being released, knife falling to the pavement, followed by screams and scratches on the stone. You were paralyzed, terrified, and unable to move. The dark had you in its claws and you could feel your breath getting more and more quick. ''How dare you hurt her ?'' A deep familiar voice took you out of your panic. There was no answer to his question. Only whimpers.

The shadows slowly dissolved letting in light from the main streets. There was no one here anymore. Only blood and scratches deep in the stone indicated a struggle.

Azriel appeared in front of you his hands gently grazing your untouched cheek. ''Don't look at it.'' His voice hoarse. You inhaled his scent making you instantly relaxed. ''Are you hurt?'' He asked worry lacing his voice. You gave him a shake of a head not trusting your voice. ''Lies. Shaken. Blood.'' Hissed hushed voice, startling you. ''I am not lying. I am just fine.'' You pushed Azriel away looking around for the source. ''You can hear them?'' Azriel frowned examining you.

''Look, I am sorry you had to bother with this. I know there are a lot of things to be done and I should have known how to protect myself-'' He stopped you from rambling with a thumb to your lips. His previous question forgotten. ''No one has a right to assault you. It is not your fault. Velaris is supposed to be safe. I promise that no one will harm you ever again.'' He left you completely stunned. ''Now, could you please show me where they hurt you, so we can heal it?'' Azriel asked slowly removing his thumb from your lips. Leaving you wishing it could stay there for a bit longer. You pushed back the hair that was covering your healing cheek. ''It's already healing. My abilities do come with very fast healing. As long as I don't use my powers much. I am just a bit shocked, that's all.'' You admitted looking to the stone path. ''Let's get you home then." He offered his hand which you gladly took your heart threatening to jump out of your chest.

''Look, Nesta started training with Cass and a few priestesses joined her. It is a way for them to regain their power and help them with their struggles. I was thinking that maybe it could be something you would give a try?'' Azriel asked as he led you through the house to your bedroom. ''Oh...I think I would like that.'' You smiled. Silence enveloping you again.

''Thank you, Az. For today and the offer.'' You looked down standing infront of the door to your bedroom. ''There is no need to thank me. But you should get some sleep.'' He looked at your door and then down the hallway. ''I will be right next to your room if you need anything. So please, let me know.'' He gave you a look of urgency and you gave him a nod even if you knew you would not. He probably knew it, too. ''Goodnight.''

"Goodnight."

[caitlinsgirl]

Thank you for this

summary: the narrator and caitlin are childhood friends. the narrator enjoys staying out of the public eye while supporting her favorite girl. set after their tough playoff game against the connecticut sun.

word count: 1.73k

tags: fluff, comfort, c*nner mention

author's note: thank you guys so much on the love for the last one! i'll get to the requests in my inbox, i just got in my feels after seeing caitlin's black eye after today's game. also tumblr kept fucking up and i had to re-do the upload for this likeeee 3 or 4 times so any mistakes i apologize. i hope u enjoy.

It feels bittersweet when you think about the time together. You no longer feels shaken up by the concept of time passing by anymore. You stopped panicking over the fact that you and the people around you are getting older. After all, getting older is a privilege, and you thank God everyday for letting you watch your girl become the woman that she is today. But today, today feels like a punch in my gut. You cannot think of anything, nothing except the passion that Caitlin has felt since you were little girls. You remember how she would beg you to join a team for more time to be with her.

“Any team!” the multi-sport prodigy would proclaim. “It doesn't matter if you'd suck, we'd have fun.” Of course I knew it would matter, though. For all you know, she could have probably stopped being your friend over how bad you would have been. Despite not being a member of her teams, you went to every game your best friend played in. Even if you felt sick, you was there, cheering her name louder than anyone in the stands, except maybe her family of course. You watched her through every high and low that made her the athlete she is today.

But nothing could have prepared you for today. The first playoff game for the Indiana Fever is over, and the players are making their way off the court. From your seat, you can see the way your best friend's eyes are glued to the ground as she followers her team to the locker room that's reserved for the Connecticut Sun's opposing team. If you were honest, you could not care less about the result of the game, or whether or not your favorite WNBA team advances in the playoffs. The only thing that matters is her, and the chance to make her feel better after this tragic loss.

Hey

Your phone lit up and chimed with her message just as you stepped out of the shower in your Connecticut hotel room. Butterflies immediately swirled in your stomach. What could be the right thing to say? What on Earth could I possibly say or do to make this horrid day into a good one for her? Making it better is not enough for you. You wish to see her on top of the world, sunshine or rain, win or lose. To the world, she is just an athlete, but to you, she's your person. An angel who deserves to have a smile on her face.

Teams going out to eat but im too tired to go with

Can I hang out with u at ur hotel room? theyre gonna talk about the game and I’ve had enough basketball for today

Of course u can

You rush to dry yourself off and get dressed. You quickly make your way downstairs to buy her favorite snacks at the lobby concession stand. Anything you can do, anything she wants, and more.

You had booked a hotel room within walking distance of the Indiana Fever's team. Having a room within the same establishment would have been too strange. This is Caitlin's job, after all, and you're just her friend. Maybe it would have been appropriate for her boyfriend to book a room, but not you. At least it felt that way.

You nervously paced back and forth in your room as you waited for her to show up. You arranged all the fun snacks you picked up in an adorable display on the 2nd queen bed of the room, the one you were not sleeping on. A bag of unpopped popcorn was waiting for Caitlin's entrance in the microwave. Two cups of ice were in the fridge, so they would not melt so fast. The hotel had all kinds of movies available on the TV, and you were about to queue up High School Musical, but then you remembered that movie is partly about basketball. Okay, Cinderella it is. Your favorite Disney princess movie has become her favorite too, from all the times you forced her to rewatch it with you.

A gentle knock on the door made you jump a little bit. You quickly made your way and paused for a second. You took a deep breath, and opened the door to see her. Her hands were in her sweatpants pockets and her shoulders were slightly slumped forward. Her black eye became darker as the night went on. The sight of it made your heart ache. You had the desire to take her into your arms and tell her how much she means to you. Your hands burned with desire, but you just smiled.

“Hey girl,” you said before stepping aside to let her in.

She walked through the entryway and stopped at the foot of the queen bed.

“Did Willy Wonka come in before I did?” She raised her eyebrow at you.

You couldn't help but to giggle. “No, goofy! I thought we could have a proper movie night,”

Her lips slightly curled into a weak, but much needed smile. You walked to the miniature fridge to pull out the cups. “Do you want apple juice or soda?”

“Juice, please,” she responded as her eyes scanned your selection. She picked out a couple of items, then a third one for good measure, before plopping herself onto the other bed in front of the television. You put your drinks on the nightstand and took the spot next to her. As if it was routine, the two of you tucked yourselves under the blanket. You hit play, and her body moved even closer to yours. Her head rested on your right shoulder, heavy and with a sigh. She is not talking about it, but you can read it all over her.

Caitlin's mind is rushing. It is impossible to land on a single thing. You could not begin to imagine the things she was saying to herself, and you did not care. The only thing you cared about was making those thoughts go away. You looked down at her and imagined yourself latching TNT onto the tracks ahead of her train of thought. You imagined it running of its tracks, leaving her without the negativity or self-doubt.

You could not stop staring at the bruise on her face. You have seen her hurt before, this is not anything new. You saw the bruises that those games left her with, the soreness in her body after a hard day in the weight room. In fact, sometimes you thought those bruises on her looked really, really hot. Something about that black eye, though, it makes you feel so utterly sad.

You wrapped your right arm around her shoulder and pulled her whole body even closer to yours. She did not hesitate, either. Her strong arms almost immediately wrapped around your waist and she took in the smell of the conditioner on your slightly damp hair.

“Thank you for this, [name].” She mumbled as her eyes stayed glued on the beginning of the movie. The sound of her voice felt like you were hearing it for the first time she spoke your name. You replay it in your mind over and over again, thanking God that you could be so close to her. Her friendship felt like salvation for the both of you, a reminder that life is still sweet and worth conquering. When you both imagine your old age, you think of each other, and the gentle serenity that each other's presence brings. “We're gonna have a house together when we're little old ladies,” she used to tell you when you were kids.

Your right hand found its way to her pin-straight brown hair. Your fingers wove themselves through and gently massaged her head. I love you. She leaned into your touch and closed her eyes with a small, content hum. With her arms around your waist, you felt like you could die here happy. The smell of her skin was familiar, yet intoxicating, like a drug that you could not get enough of. Your left hand moved with a mind of its own and slowly cupped her face. You lifted her head and she opened her eyes, her face inches away from yours.

You leaned in, and her grip around your waist loosened for your ease. You gently kissed the black spot under her eye, as if your touch could heal her from all the horribleness that came from today. She closed her eyes again, her cheeks flaring up and lighting on fire with her pumping blood. Her cheeks, ears, and neck felt hot with desire for your touch. You could hear her heart beating.

You kissed the spot again, gentler and slower this time. “Do you know that I love you, Caitlin?” You asked her.

She opened her eyes and looked at you. She furrowed her eyebrows, shocked that those words came out of your mouth. You have told each other that you love each other before, what pair of best friends have not done that? But you both knew this was different. You began to hesitate and tried to think of a way to backtrack, a way to explain-

She sat up fully and took your face into her hands. Her thumbs grazed your cheeks and her eyes studied the beautiful features on your face. It was as if she was seeing you for the first time. She moved her hand and touched your lips with her right thumb, tracing the outline and savoring the softness of your skin. Now it was your turn to blush furiously.

“Please kiss me, Caitlin,” you said looking into her mossy hazel eyes.

“I love you too, [name],” she slurred as she closed the space between you two. Her kiss felt gentle, but hungry. The both of you felt years worth of desire all at once. You wrapped your arms around her waist and ran your hands up her back, memorizing the way her body fits with yours. She made you ask her again, then again, then again.

The two of you eventually fell asleep in each other's arms with the ice in your cups melted and your snacks forgotten. You assumed she let her team know she was heading over to your hotel room, you just hoped none of them would suspect anything the next day.

[almostempty]

The more you suffer

Self Esteem Part 4 | Pairing: fuckboy!Joel x f!reader

Hey y’all, it’s me back with more farm-to-table Joel smut. Took a while to figure this one out, but I hope you’re hungry horny bc it’s lengthy and full o’ fuckin’. Date Night Dave is back by popular demand, and fuckboy Joel finally experiences a consequence??? 

Warnings/tags: fuckboy!Joel, gratuitous smut, pwp, alcohol use, unprotected piv sex (that has no physical consequences bc it’s fiction and I like it that way), oral sex, public blow job, cock warming in a car, reoccuring guest appearance by dom!dave, date night dave inspo from the cartier campaign bc that's rich dave right??? au/ooc dave york is single/rich/mysterious and down to clown, jealous!joel, soft!joel, cuck!joel, jorkin’!joel, some angsty bits, no use of y/n, voyeur/exhibitionistish, light d/s dynamics, light (?) degradation/humiliation, praise kink, AU modern/no outbreak, overall just a lot of sex with some feelings in between, no beta blame all mistakes on me/adhd/insomnia 

Notes: please leave feedback! Tell me all ur thots! 

Thanks: to everyone who has read parts 1-3, that means the world to me 

Dedicated to @gothcsz for the punishment inspo and @auteurdelabre for encouraging my delusions , and @strangergraphics for dividers

WC: 12.1K  AO3: HERE | Masterlist: Here

Part 1: Self Esteem

Part 2: Want You Bad

Part 3: Kick and Scream

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

It’s like it was a curse, not a confession. Joel’s voice plays on a loop in your mind. For days. You hear it when you wake up, against your will. It’s a reflex at this point. You hear it when your mind drifts at work, when Katie blathers on about who knows what on your brunch date, and it gets loudest at night when you can’t sleep. It repeats and repeats and repeats. Taunting you, describing you, mocking you. Leading you on. 

Occasionally, you play the tape all the way through. Finishing the rest of the scene. Starting with 'All I can fuckin’ think about' all the way up to when that coward skipped out the door at the first glimpse of that thread connecting you. The first sign of something laced with vulnerability. 

Every minute that passes since you’ve been cursed with Joel Miller’s enigmatic mid-coitus confession is torture. Slow, painful, agony. Time drags so excruciatingly slowly that you feel like months have passed, but it’s only been three days since you were cursed with this affliction when you get a text. Well, it’s practically a fucking email. A business memo. 

Dave: Hey, I wanted to follow up. I enjoyed our date and would love to see you again. I’m out of town for the next 72 hours, but I’d like to take you out for drinks again when I return. I can pick you up again Thursday night, same time? Or, if you’d rather, I’ll be available earlier in the evening on Friday. If you’d like to do dinner. 

Dave: I’ll be honest, though; I’d prefer to see you sooner than later. 

Holy shit. 

You reread the message at least three times as you sink onto your sofa. Your stomach flips at his second message, before you start trying to pick it apart, anyway.

It’s almost too…formal? Cordial? Maybe you’re just used to only getting cryptic sentence fragments from Joel, who texts like he’s rocking a Nokia 3310. Because it’s also so direct. Dave is not afraid to communicate clearly and express his interest in you. It’s not overtly sexual, but not nonchalant, Goldilocks approves. 

You grin at the phone in your hand, and your gaze veers off until you’re staring at the wall, projecting the replay of your date with Dave like a movie at the drive-in. His mouth grazing your ear as he murmured filthy thoughts to you at the table, his fingers skating up your thigh, the taste of his cock sliding along your tongue, and the sounds that started from deep in his chest before he came down your throat. 

It’s not like Dave wasn’t memorable, but damn, you had been wallowing in your feelings over Joel like it was your full-time job. Fuck that. Dave is a welcome distraction. You agree to drinks and let him know you’re looking forward to seeing him, before swapping to your text thread with Katie. 

You: is it just because the bar is in hell for men, or is it appropriate for my pussy to flood over a man with a plan??? 

Katie: Can it be both? 

Katie: Oh my god

Katie: PLEASE tell me it’s the bathroom blowjob guy

Katie: Is he planning a second date? 

Katie: I told you! Green flags! 

You: maybe 🙃

……..

Knowing you have a date to look forward to eases the sting. The memory of Joel walking out the door. You can still hear his fucking bedroom voice in your ear, but the chokehold loosens slightly. You fill the next couple of days with anything and everything to make the time pass faster. Too busy to have the time to check your phone or, worse, text Joel. 

Dave continues to be everything Joel isn’t. Communicative, confirming your plans the morning of, punctual, pulling up precisely on time, and a gentleman greeting you with a compliment and opening the car door for you. You know you've let the demented demons within you get a little too comfortable when the green flags almost give you the ick. Katie’s voice echoes in your ears, and you suck it up.

It turns out Distraction Dave is just as hot as you remember–even without a jealous Joel-shaped ogre stirring your loins from across the room. He exudes a debonair charm with his tailored, quiet luxury brand look. You feel a wave of insecurity lurch in your chest before you realize he’s got you on his arm like you’re a designer accessory. He’s pleased to be seen with you as he guides you to your table in the dimly lit jazz-style lounge. It puts you at ease when he takes the lead in making decisions. 

The cocktails are strong, but you’ve only had a few sips before. It’s Dave who has you feeling warm in the face. He’s flirty but doesn’t push. He doesn’t assume you will get handsy under the table again. In your twisted brain, that only emboldens you to make a move. He’s still talking, but you aren’t really listening, distracted by his neck and lips and how close you are to each other. 

Close enough that it’s no stretch to slide your hand from your lap to his. You drag your hand slowly, up up up. When the corner of his mouth curls into a smirk, you feel your pulse jump. The atmosphere fades, and the noise blurs as your senses lock onto him. Dave’s brow twitches just before his hand covers yours. 

“There she is,” his smile is devilishly handsome with a dark glint in his eyes, “my dirty girl.” His voice, his words, and the heat of his hand sprinkle horny fairy dust over you. “Thought about you all week,” he confesses. 

All I can fuckin’ think about. 

You swallow your intrusive Joel-voiced thought. Flush it away into the sewer. 

“Me?” you ask coyly, batting your lashes. He hums, affirming. His hand squeezes yours, and heat starts to pool between your legs. “What about me?” your eyes have a sparkle in them as you sip your drink. He leans closer to you, nose grazing the soft skin behind your ear, and your eyes flutter shut. 

“Thought about your pretty face,” he tips your chin towards him with his free hand, so close he’s all you can see. “Thought about these lips,” he gently kisses you, retreating before you can escalate the intensity. You pout at the distance when he draws back and smirks at your needy expression. “Thought I might not hear back from you with how distracted you were by your not-ex not-stalking you last time.” 

An ache flares in your heart before you drown it with irritation. Garbled words stick in your throat. Something sharp and defensive tries to slash through, but Dave continues, unbothered before you can get anything out of your mouth. 

“Mostly,” his crisp, rich scent washes over you as he dips into dot kisses up your neck, dissolving your defenses. His warm breath tickles your ear as he husks in a low tone, “I thought about how this greedy throat felt trying to swallow my cock,” his fingers wrap around your neck for emphasis, and he feels your quiet whimper of a response. 

Your cheeks burn. He claims your lips with a hungry kiss that has your moans vibrating in your throat beneath his hand. It’s urgent and needy how your tongues, teeth, and lips collide. When his other hand finally releases yours, and he possessively cups either side of your jaw in his large palms, you’re lost momentarily. Consumed by the sensation of Dave’s tongue sliding against yours and the desire to crawl into his lap and straddle him here in the booth. 

You shove away the thought of Joel that flashes through your mind and double down on your desire for Dave. You bite sharply at his bottom lip, roughly knocking your faces together as you press your body into his, demanding more intensity as you make out.

When you break apart, you feel the crazed expression on your face as you smirk at the man in front of you. “I’ll give you more to think about,” you say more breathlessly than you intended, but the message is still clear. 

You dive back in, licking a hot stripe up his neck and biting at his earlobe. Your hand is back on task, groping for Dave’s thick erection when he stops you again. He tugs your hand away, and you huff. 

Dave laughs, enjoying the frustration on your features as he tucks your hair back behind your ear. He’s rudely composed while you’re on fire. 

“Finish your drink,” he tilts his head towards the antique glass in front of you. You down the rest in an impolite gulp, wiping at the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. Dave shakes his head softly, a mix of mild disbelief and something headier. “That’s a good girl,” he acquiesces you for following his direction with gusto. 

His praise drips over you like warm honey, easing the confusion you felt at his rejection of your touch. He answers your unspoken question, “We can stay here, dirty girl, but I’d prefer to take you home so I can get my mouth on you this time.” The close quarters in the booth have you nearly nose to nose. A smirk spreads across his face when your lips part at his proposal. 

“Let’s go,” you respond quickly, it’s an easy decision. 

He takes you to his condo nearby. It’s modern, masculine, and decorated but not very revealing of anything more personal about him. He wastes no time leading you to the bedroom, and you’re just as eager to get him into bed. 

But when your impatient hands start tugging at his clothes, he grips you harshly, fingertips digging into the flesh of your upper arms, pinning them to your sides, essentially immobilizing you as he holds you back. He has this look to him like he knows something that you don’t, and that’s enough to make you pause. 

“She’s hungry, hm?” it’s phrased like a question, but you don’t think he’s expecting a real answer. His eyes rove over you before he relaxes his grip. 

“Sit.” 

You obey without a thought, perching on the edge of the perfectly made bed before him. “That’s a good girl,” his voice has a raw edge to it, and the phrase shoots straight to your core. You fight to keep still, overwhelmed with the sudden need to please him and convinced he wants to see how closely you’ll follow his orders. 

Dave’s eyes are full of lust and something darker as he studies you, his presence looming, commanding, and teasing. “Look at you, ready for more.” His tone is mocking but coated with approval that tingles along your spine. He grabs your chin, lifting your face to meet his gaze again, “You liked the risk last time. Coming on my fingers under the table.” 

You nod, and he grants you a flash of a smile. It’s gorgeous but restrained and tampered back down. 

"And you liked being on your knees for me. You liked taking my cock down your throat, didn’t you?” 

You nod again, but his fingers dig into your cheeks slightly, a silent reprimand. His voice drops to a low growl, “Use your words.” Your eyes widen before you blink away the mixture of shock and thrill. 

"Yes,” you get the word out in a quietly, “I liked it," you manage to add a hint of confidence. 

The corner of his mouth twitches. Satisfaction flickers in his eyes. “Of course you did,” he strokes your cheek gently, “you did such a good job taking care of me last time.” His adoration flutters across your skin, spreading heat. “But it’s my turn now, isn’t it?” 

The wicked smirk on his face makes you feel lightheaded as he lowers himself in front of you. Your knees part reflexively to let him move closer. “That’s a good girl. Spread these legs for me,” he continues as he runs his hands along your smooth legs until he’s bunching up the bottom of your dress.

Without wasting a second, his mouth is on you, kissing the soft crease of your thighs and sucking an open mouth kiss over the damp fabric covering your core. His hands anchor your thighs, thumbs caressing your flesh in a mockery of tenderness as his mouth delivers a sinful symphony sucking at your skin, nipping at you in a way that makes your thighs tense beneath his grip and spewing dirty thoughts. 

“So wet for me,” he mutters as he raises in front of you, pulling you to stand so he can strip you bare. Your arms hang submissively by your sides as his hand moves slowly, down your jaw, wrapped around your throat, down your chest, pausing to marvel at the sight of your tits in his palms and how your mouth parts when he kneads them in his hands. 

You wonder if you should feel vulnerable as he proceeds with his inspection, but the precision of his movements keeps you lulled. Dave’s hand slips between your legs and his fingers trace the slick seam of your cunt. You can’t help the whiny groan you respond with as you strain to remain still for him. 

He snickers at your struggle, then makes it worse. “You’re dripping, you know that?” the mocking tone in his voice does something just right to you, “such a needy slut.” Oh. That has your thighs flexing, tightening around his hand as he continues to torture you, parting the lips of your pussy with his fingers, drawing circles too slowly. 

“Have to stop myself from bending you over now and fucking you hard and fast.” Your body floods with need at the idea, dripping around his fingers and causing your hips to jerk.

“Please,” you whisper. You figure it’s polite enough. 

"Ah, ah," he warns, pulling back. "I know you’d like that, dirty girl.” 

Yes! You consider spinning around and giving him your best tempting display, hoping he’ll give in, but he seems to be a step ahead. “Lay down. You’ll get what you want.” 

Dave has a wicked gleam in his eyes as you spread out across the bed for him. He’s deliberate when he gets between your legs, spreading them wide and skipping the teasing kisses this time. He drags his tongue from your entrance to your throbbing clit before his plush lips wrap around you. The suction and pressure are dizzying, and you fill the room with panting and moaning. 

Your hips chase his mouth as he uses his tongue expertly, alternating between lazy circles and sharp flicks. The pleasure builds as he works at you. His technique gradually becomes indelicate, using everything he’s got in a way that makes you feel wild. His nose nudges at your clit as he dips further down. He allows you to keep rolling your hips gently as you rock against his chin before he pulls back. 

"Look at you, already unraveling for me," he says, voice drenched in amusement. "So desperate. She wants it all, hm?"

“Yes,” you whine, and your moans keep flowing as the pressure coils tighter within you. 

“Good,” he asserts, “come for me.” It’s a demand that has you gasping when he punctuates it with his fingers plunging inside of you. If you weren’t so enraptured by the growing pleasure and his voice, you might nitpick the logistics of coming on command–but he gives you no room for debate. 

Persuasively compelling your orgasm to hit as his fingers fuck into you and he sucks your clit into his furnace of a mouth. He doesn’t relent. The intensity of his mouth and fingers overwhelms you through the violent flash of pleasure and remains consistent as you writhe and contract, coming back down to earth. 

He's working you back up before you can fully recover or process his praise. Coaxing you toward another peak, capitalizing on his command of your mind and body. Every flick of his tongue pushes you higher until you’re gripping at the bed to stay in place. 

The ache for release teeters on unbearable as Dave’s groan buzzes through you. You tremble, sticking to the sheets with the sweat of desperation. You’re not cognizant of how you’re pleading with Dave, “Yes, yes, yes!”

But just as you’re about to tip over the edge, he stops, sitting up. 

“Hey!” you’re on edge and disoriented. 

"On your hands and knees," he orders, rougher now. "I’ve had my fill."

Oh shit. 

You scramble to obey, face hot with frustration and need as you arch in presentation for him. His hands spread your cheeks so he can get a good, long look at the sight of your glossy, swollen cunt. 

"That’s good, dirty girl, so eager," he chuckles, lining himself up against your entrance, teasing you deliciously with the slightest stretch. "You want me to fuck you hard, don’t you?"

"Yes," you breathe, the word spilling out before you form a thought.

"That’s what I thought." He pushes inside you in one smooth, hard thrust, and you gasp as he fills you completely, stretching you wide. He pauses only long enough to feel your walls rippling with contractions around the length of him, confirming his prediction. “Yeah, knew this tight little cunt would take me so well.” 

You can only hum mindlessly in response before he sets a rough pace. Gripping firmly at your hips, he keeps you in place as he drives into you, grunting with the force as his hips smack against your ass, adding more lewd noise to the moans and single-syllable words you cry out. 

You’re slipping away in the feeling of him pounding into you from behind. So mindless as your body bounces off of him that, for a split second, your tortured mind drifts to Joel. Joel’s voice and his filthy mouth, how he always gets you to beg for more.  You tense up, eyes wide, hoping you haven’t said his name in your stupor.  

Mercifully, Dave doesn’t seem to react. He continues at the same pace until his hand slides up your spine, gripping the back of your neck as he knocks your legs wider with his, angling you lower and thrusting even deeper inside of you. It’s a sharp, blinding need to come that possesses you. 

“Don’t stop,” you plead between gasping breaths.  

He gives you a slap for that. The sting has your eyes nearly rolling back like a caricature. Dave is launched closer to his own release because of your desperation, your ass jiggling, and his view of his cock disappearing inside of you over and over in time with your moans. 

He gives you exactly what you need as you shift, letting your weight fall into your shoulders so you can snake your hand back to swirl your fingers over your clit with precision, quickly bringing yourself to the peak. You fall apart around him as he grips your hips forcefully, using you as he needs while waves of pleasure debilitate you. 

He doesn’t slow down, pounding into you until his own release verges on crashing into him, and with a low, strained sound, he pulls out. The wet sounds of his fist are drowned out by the groan you both make as you collapse without his support, and he comes across your ass and lower back.

For a moment, neither of you moves, both panting as you come down from the high. Then, with a satisfied hum, he leans down and presses a soft, almost tender kiss to your shoulder. "Good girl," he murmurs, a soothing balm after the intensity. And, when he returns with a warm washcloth to clean you up, you feel glowy and drunk in his bed. 

Dave drives you home, at your request, and walks you to your door like a gentleman. He repeats that he would be happy to see you again.

 And he does. 

You both get what you want out of the arrangement. Neither of you wants a relationship and has an interest in an emotional connection. Dave isn’t always available, but he’s communicative and arranges to pick you up once or twice a week when he’s free. 

He always offers to take you for drinks or dinner at his favorite spots. Some nights, you just ask him to take you straight to his perfectly made bed. The nights you desperately need him to fuck Joel’s voice out of your head. 

It works, for the most part, as the weeks pass. Katie rolls her eyes at you when you claim you prefer your weekly dick appointments to a real relationship, but her judgment fades when you give her a juicy detail or two about the things Dave says to you in bed. You’re grateful to have an easy out to redirect her because you don’t feel strong enough to let her see the festering wound in your chest, still refusing to let go of Joel. 

Most days, it’s dull enough to manage. It’s more of a cruel joke when you hear Joel’s voice in your head first thing upon waking. When your phone buzzes and your heart stutters, you laugh bitterly at yourself for thinking it could be that stubborn asshole. It’s never him. You don’t hear from him. You don’t reach out. You consider blocking him altogether but can’t bring yourself to do it. You don’t see him on any nights out with Katie. 

You bite your tongue when you see Tommy at another karaoke night. You can’t ask about Joel, nobody knew you had been seeing each other, if that’s what you could even call it. You strategically keep yourself on the opposite end of the table from Tommy, hoping to stay out of earshot if he mentions the man haunting your thoughts. 

But as you drink your feelings one after another, they evolve. Anger swirls as you think of texting Joel and calling him out for being a gutless wonder. You pull out your phone and open your messages, rereading the last text from him. 

Joel: Miss me? 

Out of context, the two words trip you up momentarily. Even though you’ve reread them more times than you’d like to admit. And replayed that night more than you can stand. You don’t type anything to him. Your anger still burns in your gut. 

You attempt to engage with your friends, but it’s all for show. You can’t stop glancing towards Tommy, the door, or your phone. Your anger converts into something you can’t escape. 

After one more drink, your vision keeps getting blurry, not exactly from the booze. 

You try to blink back the tears in your waterline, excusing yourself from the group and dashing for the bathroom. Something messy and hurt and possesses you. Destabilizing you entirely as you feel yourself breaking down.

Weaving between bodies until you’re slamming into a stall and collapsing into a wobbly-limbed mess. Ugly sobs rip through your diaphragm, stirring up the most vulnerable fears and a cruel internal voice. Why are you hung up on someone that treated you like shit? You think it’s what you deserve? You can’t even move on? You still can’t stand up for yourself? 

Someone else enters the bathroom, and you try to hold yourself together, but they catch your sobs and ask if you’re alright. You do your best to assure the stranger that you’re okay. 

“If he makes you feel like that, he ain’t worth it, hon’,” she offers before leaving you with your thoughts in the bathroom. 

You know she meant it to be helpful, but it knocks you deeper into your feelings. You’re upset, and for what? Does he even care? Has he actually thought of you even once? He isn’t worth it. He isn’t worth it, and you still can’t stop the tears pathetically streaming down your face. It hurts even worse to know you shouldn’t care. 

You stand up, and your head spins, not just from the emotional agony but from the alcohol. When you not-so-gracefully emerge and see yourself in the mirror, you nearly lock yourself back in the stall and vow to live here now. You can’t return to the table with your eyes that swollen and red and your mascara rubbed away. 

You don’t want to be seen at all. You want to be left in bed to wrestle with your self-esteem and crippling grief over something that never existed. 

You pull out your phone, only dropping it once before sending off your hail Mary, hoping Dave can pick you up. 

Where?

The response is almost instant. You send off the name of the bar and do your best to make yourself look presentable before marching back towards your friends. You give Katie a quick hug from the side, yell-whispering into her ear that Dave is picking you up and you’ll text her tomorrow, before you slip away as quickly as you can manage. Bouncing off the back of a chair on your mission to get outside. 

You lean against the cool brick wall, eyes closed, taking deep breaths of the crisp fall air as you wait for your ride. You can hear the bass from another club across the street and the laughs and shouts from the gaggle of smokers gathered further up the block. You feel syrupy and wrung out, but you aren’t going to be sick. You just need to get home. 

“You alright?” A smooth voice cuts into your thoughts. You jerk your head more dramatically than you intended, taking in Tommy’s concerned brown eyes with a sigh. Of course. 

“Just waiting for my ride,” you do your best to act sober and emotionally stable. Whatever that looks like. 

“I’ll wait with you,” he decides. 

Your shoulders drop. You must not be very convincing. “Really, I’m fine,” you add, leaning your head against the wall. 

“Right,” he steps back but doesn’t leave. He lights a cigarette and allows you the silence as he smokes alongside you. It’s kind, you suppose, not wanting to leave you alone on the street. But he’s the last person you want to be next to right now. Or maybe second to last, you realize when he laughs and steps forward with a wave, drawing your attention to a scene that stops your heart. 

A familiar truck pulls up to the curb in front of you, and you take back your earlier assessment. You feel like you are gonna be sick. Your stomach lurches, and you feel the panic rising in your throat. 

“What are you doing here?” Tommy shouts, “Isn’t it past your bedtime?” 

You squeeze your eyes shut, like maybe if you keep them closed, you’ll blend in with the wall. 

“Just giving a friend a ride,” Joel responds gruffly from inside his truck. Your plan immediately fails. His voice compels you to look at him. 

Some unspoken fucking sibling communication happens between the two of them, and then Joel is staring at you. Unreadable. “You getting in?” he hollers at you. 

“No,” you mumble barely audible. You clear your throat, feeling hoarse, and try again. “I’m waiting for my ride.” 

“I think it’s here, darlin’,” Tommy says as he steps towards you to usher you towards Joel’s truck. You shrug him off, pulling out your phone to check your messages. To see how long it’s been since you told Dave your location. 

You didn’t. 

You texted Joel. 

You’re mortified. No, no, no. This cannot be real. You didn’t text this hot nightmare. There’s no way he would’ve responded. 

He did. 

Joel: Where? 

You’re still shaking your head and trying to wrap your head around the situation. You’re the architect of your own worst nightmare now. A disaster asking to be rescued by the guy who knows exactly how to twist the knife in your gut. You’re spiraling inwards. 

Completely unaware of the exchange between Joel and Tommy. Or how gone, you look to them. 

“Jesus Christ,” Joel mutters at Tommy as he comes round to help you into the truck. “What’d she have?” 

“Hey,” Tommy defends, “I just came outside, and she said she was waitin’ on her ride. I don’t know shit.” 

“Figures,” he’s still grumbling as he shuts the door. You’re in shock as you sit in the cab of Joel’s truck. The only other time you were inside was the night you met. 

“Shit,” you curse at yourself as Joel gets in and pulls away from the curb. 

He doesn’t look at you, doesn’t say anything. Just drives in silence. Through every light, all the way across town. 

“I’m sorry,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to text you.” It hangs in the thick silence. You focus so hard on keeping your breathing steady, tamping down the sobs fighting to break through, that you barely register the tears that stream down your face. 

You hear him sigh before his hand rests on your thigh, “What happened?” he croaks like it hurts to speak.  

You’re reeling at that. Hearing him sigh like you’re a hindrance, like your emotions are a burden like it pains him to ask. You don’t have the clarity of mind to filter yourself. 

“Nothing,” you snap, glaring at his hand. “Don’t pretend like you care,” you dig, refusing to look at him, hot tears still rolling down your cheek. He doesn’t ask again. But he doesn’t pull his hand back, and you don’t move it until he’s shifting into park. 

Against your better judgment, you turn to face him. Your gut twists at the sight of him so close to you. After you’ve been left alone with your thoughts for so long. You can’t read his stoic face or his beautiful dark eyes. 

“Thank you,” you murmur, trying not to linger on how insane you must seem. Asking for a ride, snapping at him, and then thanking him. You cringe at yourself, trying to swipe the tears under your eyes away like that’ll make you seem more put together. 

You hop out of the cab and take a second to steady yourself. Joel’s door slams as he rounds the front of the truck to steady you. 

“Don’t,” you mutter. He puts an arm around you as if it’s natural, and you still. 

“Baby,” he says, low and soothing, “let me help.” 

Baby. It stirs the stupid butterflies in your stomach until your brain catches up. 

“No,” you shove him away. It’s weak, but he steps back.

“C’mon,” he urges you, “let’s just get you inside.” 

“No,” you still don’t move. Afraid you’ll fall apart if you try. You need him to leave before you come apart. If he touches you, you know you’ll beg him to fuck your pain away. 

“I can’t do it again.” You muster your courage, but when you look at his face, a soft sob finally breaks through, and your body shudders, gasping for a breath, “Please.”

His face darkens. His arms hang limply at his sides before his fists tighten. The street is quiet in the dark. “You think I’m here to fuck you?” 

“Is there a reason I shouldn’t?” it’s a genuine question, but it rings harsh in the night with your uneven breathing. You fumble, dropping your keys when you finally dig them out of your bag, swearing under your breath. He grabs them before you and offers them to you, dropping them into your hand, avoiding your touch. 

You mumble thanks and stalk towards your door. He stays put, watching until you’re inside before he turns to leave. 

……

You get a text from Katie the following morning. 

Katie: Girl, are you alive?

Katie: You wanna tell me why Dave looked an awful lot like Joel?

You: not really. did Tommy say something?

Katie: No?? I was trying to get a glimpse of your man when I saw you getting into Joel’s truck??

You: I texted the wrong number 

Katie: ….

Katie: Uh, unless you’ve got him in your phone as Daddy Joel (real) I don’t think those letters are that close together babe

Katie: WAIT 

Katie: When did you get Joel’s number? He barely talks to anyone! 

Kate: Don’t answer that, I’m coming over and bribing you with a hangover cure bacon egg n’ cheese and you’re telling me everything 

You: and a cold brew? 

Katie: Duh 

…………..

“Fuck,” Joel grumbles when he hears a knock at his door. He knows exactly what this is. He lets Tommy in without a word and tromps back to his kitchen to get another coffee before his interrogation starts. He sits at the table, and levels the darkest “don’t start with me” glare he can, but his idiot brother has always been immune. 

…………….

“What do you mean?” you whine at Katie from your side of the couch. “There’s no use trying to talk to him; he’s emotionally constipated, and he only wants one thing from me.” 

“Maybe there’s more to him,” she suggests vaguely. 

“You were the one telling me to drop him and move on anyway!” you argue like a child. 

“I didn’t know it was him!”

“How does that change anything?” you glare at her. Katie chews at her lip while you devour the last of your breakfast sandwich. It’s cold. You had been so wrapped up in your recollection of the ups and downs of your non-relatioinship with Joel you forgot to finish eating while it was fresh. It feels like a stupid metaphor about how he forgot to take care of yourself when you were drawn into his toxic cycle. 

You thought confessing would reduce the weight on your chest. You weren’t prepared for Katie to add to your delusion. 

“I don’t think it’s really my place to share his… baggage,” she muses. 

“Since when?” you cut her a nasty look. 

“I just think,” she pauses, and you ball up the foil from your sandwich and throw it at her, earning you a glare, “It’s complicated.” 

“Okay, Avril Lavigne,” you mock. “You’re the worst, and this is not helpful! You’ve gotta give me something. Is he married? Am I the mistress? Is he a felon? A drug dealer?” 

“You think I wouldn’t warn you about any of those?” 

“I don’t know. I never thought you’d be taking his side,” you say in a serious tone. 

“I’m not defending him!” She holds up her hands in surrender. “You deserve better than fuckboy behavior from a grown man.” 

“Thanks.” 

“It’s just,” he considers her words as your eyes narrow, “it seemed like it meant more than that. You were practically glowing half the summer.” 

“And a lifeless zombie the rest of the time?” 

“A cute zombie?” she shrugs. “I’m serious, though. Do you think he’d show up to rescue anyone else–no questions asked? That fast?” her words get softer.

“I don’t know,” you mutter, draping yourself miserably along the end of the couch, trying not to think about the times Joel bent you over the armrest. “I don’t know him at all, really.” 

“Do you want to?” 

Yes! A naive part of you shouts, hopeful and bright, blind to the reality of your situation. Oh, no. Definitely not. You dropkick that idea right to the back of your mind. Ignoring the way it screams until it’s muffled by the dejected, logical thoughts. “I can’t risk it,” you respond weakly. 

Katie hears it. The ever-resilient part of you that tries to stay one step ahead cracks and lets the vulnerability out. You refuse to worsen the abandonment wound, but it’s entangled in your heart. 

Katie doesn’t bring it up again. She spends the rest of the day with you, ordering takeout and putting on your favorite movies, like you’re going through a breakup. It helps.

…………

Life lulls back into the same routine. Except now, when you wake up, it’s Joel’s face–not his voice–that haunts you. The 

Instead of Joel’s voice haunting you when you wake up–it’s his face. The way he looked hurt. The way he dropped your keys into your hand

when you begged him not to come inside. It sinks like a stone in your stomach that you carry all day as you go through the motions. It feels hollow, but you persist. Your friends lighten the dark fog. Dave’s praise soothes the ache, and he fucks you so hard you can forget almost forget. 

But Joel lurks in your walls, in your skin, and you swear you see his headlights sweep over your living room, but it’s never his truck. At least not in the two weeks since karaoke night. You’ll never understand the trickery that makes misery slow time, but every day has felt bloated and stretched. 

Sick of feeling sick, the following week, when Joel’s face pops up, the second you open your eyes, you curse him. Spite simmers in your bones. If he had something to say, he had all the time in the world to show up and say it. Channeling the malaise into something darker, you let your anger renew your energy. 

All I can fuckin’ think about MY ASS. 

You’re itching for the distraction by the time you’re getting ready for your date with Dave this evening. You know you’re going to be a menace, and it’ll turn him on, which already has you smirking to yourself. You’re almost ready when you hear a knock at your door. You frown, checking the time. Dave’s usually precisely on time, not early. Close enough, you figure, slinging your bag over your shoulder and heading for the door. 

You swing it open, ready to see Dave, but your jaw drops when you see Joel. He’s caught off guard by your date night look and hesitates as his eyes sweep over your little black dress. Without a thought you slam the door in his face. 

What the fuck?

He knocks again, loudly, as if you weren’t standing on the other side with your mouth gaping like a fish. But the pounding brings you back to reality. 

You open the door and start before he even has a chance. 

“It’s been three weeks since I last saw you, Miller, and that was an accident! I don’t know how long it was before that, but now you’re gonna show up and ruin another date? I don’t fucking think so. You’ve got five minutes. Spit it out. What are you doing here?” 

He blinks dumbly for a moment. Taken aback by your words and still breathless at seeing you all dolled up for your date. You cross your arms, unimpressed so far. That’s somehow worse. The irritated look on your face makes him want to fuck the attitude out of you. He takes a deep breath, trying to refocus before he starts. 

“You’re right,” his voice is gentler than you remember–It’s criminal really, “I shouldn’t have waited.” He pauses and swallows thickly. Is he nervous? That’s new. “I’m not great with words, and I haven’t given you any reason to give me the time of day. I’m here to apologize.” 

“Go on then.” 

“It wasn’t right of me to run from you–”

“Which time?” you won’t let him get through this easily. Not now. He lets that sink in. The vulnerability makes his eyes shine. You can sense the charge in the air like he might just run right now. 

“Every time,” he admits. “Didn’t think you’d let me back in every time, but I couldn’t stop myself from trying. Knew you wanted me too.” You scoff at that. Amused at his approach. You see his shoulders tense before he lets your disapproval roll off of him. “Convinced myself, it was fine, or you’d stop answerin’ the door. Thought it’d be easier–” 

“If I did your dirty work for you?” you accuse sharply. “If it was my responsibility to hold you accountable?” 

“Thought it’d be easier if you hated me, I guess,” he runs his hand over the back of his neck. You stop seeing red and take him in. He smells fresh, like some over-fragranced body wash, his nearly dry hair brushed back. You hate how you feel the urge to soften just at the sight of him. “Figured you’d move on,” he rumbles. 

“Didn’t seem like you wanted me to move on when you crashed my date.” 

“It wasn’t my plan,” he mutters. Right. You raise your eyebrows. “You–you just drive me fuckin’ crazy. I don’t know why. But I can’t get you outta my fuckin’ head.”

That makes you smile. His confession willfully given on your front doorstep. In the daylight, without your body seducing his. You drive him crazy. 

Dave’s car pulls up behind Joel’s truck. “Time’s up,” you say, “as much as I really enjoy this 90s romcom-style confession, and I really do, I’ve got a date, and I don’t like to keep my dates waiting.” 

“Right,” Joel takes you in like he might never see you again, “he something serious?” he nods towards Dave’s car. 

“Why, you planning to ask me out?” you’re not afraid to be direct anymore. Nothing to lose. 

“Thought I’d just start with the apology.” 

“Good.” 

“You accept?” 

You laugh loudly, full-chested. It’s a release, but it ends mockingly. “You’re gonna have to try harder than this to show you really mean it.” 

“Yes, ma’am,” he nods, turning to leave. A wicked idea flashes through your mind as you watch him turn and look past him towards Dave, who is watching you intently. 

“Wait,” you call out, and Joel spins immediately. “I’ll consider your apology tonight on one condition.” He waits to hear more, and your grin sends a shiver down his spine. He’s in for something, and if it’s anything close to what he deserves, it’s gonna hurt. 

…………

You slide into your favorite corner booth, in between Dave and Joel. You admire them both in the dim light. You haven’t been able to keep the nefarious smirk off your face since you proposed your idea. Dave was an easy sell, just as you knew he would be, with minimal questions and clear on the role you wanted him to play. You weren’t surprised that Joel agreed, but you’re skeptical that he’ll be able to keep his cool. 

“You’re coming with us,” you told him like it was a command, “you’re gonna watch, and you’re gonna prove to me that you can behave.” 

He seems to keep it together through your date. He’s quiet, only accepting a drink when you tell him not to be weird. You know the jealousy is screaming beneath the surface. He does his best to rein it in, but when Dave taunts him with sly comments or touches you so freely, you catch his jaw tensing and his hands balling into tight fists, but he doesn’t say anything. 

Dave exudes confidence and control. He relishes in the power dynamic and more so, in how you’re so turned on by having an audience. Dave’s eyes are sharp, catching all of Joel’s discomfort when you giggle when you share a story when he touches you, but worst of all, when you touch Dave. “Dirty girl,” Dave murmurs close to your ear, “you want to give your guest a show before we take him home?” 

Your eyes are bright and shining when you smile at him. You give Joel a once over. He doesn’t look like he will flip the table or smash his fist through it. He glowers at Dave but softens for you, swallowing down the humiliation and washing it down with another drink. 

“Yeah,” you turn back to Dave, “he can take it. What do you have in mind?” 

“I think I dropped something under the table,” Dave’s low voice drips down your spine, and excitement buzzes in your core, “You think you can help me out?” You smile wide as the Cheshire cat before sinking beneath the table. It’s cramped and dark, but you’ve never been more grateful to Dave for reserving his favorite secluded corner spot. 

You wiggle a bit brushing against Joel as you situate yourself between Dave’s legs. The table muffles more of the sound, blending their voices into the sound of the music. You can tell Dave is trying to continue a casual conversation with Joel, and you can tell Joel doesn’t respond with many words. You find it easy enough to tune them out altogether as you focus on your mission, opening Dave’s belt and working quickly to tug at his pants until you can free his thick cock. 

Before you can get your mouth on it, Dave cups your jaw and grabs your attention, “Good girl,” he husks, matching your hungry gaze. “This what you want?” he asks as he grips the base of his cock and angles it towards you. You nod, wetting your lips in anticipation. “Do you want him to watch?” he asks, tilting his head towards Joel. 

You smile again, “Yes.” 

“Come closer,” he directs Joel, “she wants you to watch.” Joel shuffles over, scooting down the curved bench until he can see your face looking up at him. 

“Shit, baby,” Joel hisses, shifting to adjust himself. You see the mix of emotions flickering across his face. You can’t help yourself from holding eye contact with Joel as you slide your tongue down Dave’s length. You keep your eyes on him as you begin to bob your head, taking his cock deeper into your mouth. 

Having their eyes on you, has you squirming. The attention and the dynamics between the three of you has your heart in your cunt. The blazing jealousy in Joel’s eyes eggs you on, working sloppily to please Dave. You moan below them. 

“Look at her,” Dave speaks calmly to Joel, only a hint of strain in his voice as he maintains his composure. “You think another woman could enjoy your cock this much? You think you could find a mouth better than this?” 

“No,” Joel grits through clenched teeth. 

“You think you deserve her?” Dave asks like it’s as meaningless as asking about the weather. 

“No,” he grits again, his eyes shut tightly, waiting for something to pass, before he can continue watching you. You see the torment taking hold, lighting a fire within you that spurs you on. You break the eye contact to take Dave’s cock even deeper. He groans approvingly above you. 

“That’s it,” Dave encourages you with his hand gently wrapping around the back of your head, “just like that, fuck.” He keeps watching you, but his next words are for Joel. “Tell her,” he says, drunk with pride and lust, “tell her what a good girl she is. Think she more than deserves to hear it.” You know your cunt is dripping between your legs at the intensity of your lewd behavior and the control Dave wields over the both of you so effortlessly. 

You shift to watch Joel. He tempers the storm of his frustration and arousal to make sure it sounds honest. So you know he means it.

“That’s good, baby,” his voice is hoarse, and he clears his throat before continuing, “Such a good girl.” Your eyes nearly roll back. You didn’t think it could hit any harder than when Dave praises you, but hearing the words from Joel sends you to another plane. You melt before your determination is renewed, and you’re on a mission to make Dave come. He knows what you want, and his hips tilt, rocking into you as you swallow around him eagerly until he’s groaning again and pulsing against your tongue as he comes. 

The men shift, and the three of you adjust and fix yourselves, respectively, as you return to your seat between them. You’re pleased with yourself but overtaken with the need throbbing in your cunt. You don’t miss Joel’s attempts to adjust himself and squash his own aching desire. It makes your lips curl with a hungry smile. 

Dave pulls you towards him. You’re buzzing so tensely with anticipation that just his grip around your waist brings a whiny moan out of you. He chuckles darkly at your wrecked response. “So worked up just from that, aren’t you?” Dave teases. You hum in agreement, letting your senses be overwhelmed by the scent of both men and their warm bodies on either side of you. “Already soaked and ready to be filled with a cock, hm?” 

“Yes,” you agree, closing your eyes and smiling dreamily. 

“Tell me,” Dave murmurs with a dangerous edge. 

“So wet,” you purr in agreement, but he laughs again. You open your eyes, confused. 

“Was asking him,” Dave tilts your chin towards Joel. You thought your idea of having Joel watch would be punishment enough, but you weren’t prepared for how Dave’s filthy mind works a step ahead of yours. You pull Joel’s hand between your legs. “Check for me,” he orders. 

Joel obeys. His fingers are quick to find your soaked underwear, and he easily dips them beneath the fabric into the pool of slick at your fluttering entrance. “Fuck,” you both curse at the sensation. It’s overwhelming, and you jerk at the intensity of being touched where your body wants contact the most. 

“Fuckin’ soaked,” Joel confirms like it’s painful to say it, “needs it bad.” You think the latter might apply to both of you. 

“You think you can make it all the way home, dirty girl?” Dave teases. You nod, but the whiny sound that comes from your throat as Joel removes his hand says otherwise. Dave considers your needs. “He’s only here to watch, hm?” he confirms. You nod mindlessly. “You think he’d make a nice seat for your ride home? Keep that empty hole full for you?” 

“Oh, shit,” you feel your face heat at the idea, “yes.” 

Joel’s more conflicted than he’s ever felt in his life. He was prepared to fight off his jealousy and tame his anger. He wasn’t prepared to watch you give Dave head in public or for how fucking hard he would get watching. But the most difficult thing to reckon with is the humiliation. More specifically, how every comment from either one of you that further salted his wound made his skin boil but also sent jolts of excitement through his nerves. 

“You think you can keep it together?” Dave challenges Joel. 

“Yes.” 

………………

Joel regrets agreeing before you leave the parking lot, but you couldn’t pay him to go back in time and change his answer. He thought the worst of it was over once you finally settled on top of him, sinking painfully slowly down his cock until your ass was flush with his hips, but you can’t stay still. You tense and contract around him, nearly blinding Joel with the heat of your velvety soft walls choking his shaft. You lean forward, trying to get comfortable, and when the car bounces over a speed bump on the way out of the parking lot, you both groan with pleasure and frustration. 

“You feel better?” Dave asks you as he navigates swiftly back to yours. 

“So full,” you state, desperately fighting the urge to beg Joel to grab your hips and fuck you. You weren’t exactly exaggerating the last time you had sex with Joel when you said you missed his “big fat cock.” Every bump on the road has you biting back moans, and you squirm, trying to find a comfortable position. 

“Please,” Joel’s low voice is strained and ragged, “quit moving.” 

You should’ve had the foresight to realize this wasn’t a punishment for Joel. This was just going to weaken your resolve. You know the second he gets his hands on you, it’s useless. You’re his through and through. You thought you were still pissed off enough that he couldn’t get to you, that Dave’s presence would keep you on track. 

Well, you didn’t really think about it at all. You just felt your knees go weak when, and your cunt do a flip when Dave made the suggestion. You need to make a mental note to show him just how much you appreciate his dirty mind when you get back home. 

You can feel Joel’s growl rumbling through his chest and his thighs tensing beneath you. It’s a vicious cycle. Every sound he makes is like a call and response with your body. Your cunt denounces your orders to stay still and pulses rhythmically, trying to take Joel’s cock deeper on it’s own accord. His breath hitches, and you adjust. 

“Baby,” he rasps, sounding wrecked, “I can’t–fuck–can’t do this if you’re gonna be a fuckin’ tease. His hands wrap around your hips, fingers digging harshly into your flesh in an attempt to keep you still, but the pressure makes you cry out softly. 

“Is your chair complaining?” Dave mocks, and Joel’s cock tenses inside of you. 

“I’m about to complain,” you try to snark, but it comes out needy instead. 

“What do you need, dirty girl?” He asks sincerely. You know it’s not long to get home, but you can’t think straight with Joel’s cock so deep inside of you. 

“Fuck, I…” you wiggle again, causing Joel to grunt behind you, and the noise makes your pussy flex, “I can’t,” you trail off, digging your nails into your palms, trying to steady yourself. You feel pathetic right now, unable to put together a sentence and barely able to keep yourself still. 

“Hey,” Dave coos gently, seeing the pained expression on your face. “You decide what you want. Your rules. You want him to touch you?” 

“Mmm,” you groan loudly with want, “please, please, please.” 

Joel doesn’t hesitate, hands searching immediately and yanking you closer as he gropes at your body. The freedom to move gives him power over his urges, more control than either of you expected. His breath is hot against your neck before his voice, gravelly and dark, vibrates just behind your ear, “Missed hearing you beg for me.” 

Your head lolls back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut and mouth hanging open. You moan in sync as his hands wrap around your body, slipping under the top and bottom of your dress at the same time. You’re pinned, back against his firm chest, as one hand pinches at your hard nipple and the other taps at your clit. Your body struggles in his strong arms, unable to bow at the overstimulation of his touch. All you can manage is to rut your hips into him. 

“You desperate to come on my cock again, baby?” he goads you. Feeling confident now that he’s free to run his filthy mouth again. Feeling drunk on your needy noises and the way you writhe for him. He carries on teasing you in his Joel-specific way with his words and his fingers. It’s maddening, and you feel lit up, skin tingling as you’re at his mercy. You can only see blinding light, like you’re inside of a star, as you get closer and closer. 

You’re too incapacitated to realize you’ve made it home, that the car has stopped moving, that Dave has turned to watch you. Joel continues to rasp filth into your ear, but your body spasms in response when Dave begins to encourage you. “That’s right,” Dave coaxes you, “take what you need.” 

You do. Falling headfirst into the rush, broken, gasping, moans ringing through the car. The scent of sex swirling in the air. Your tension snaps, flooding with endorphins, and riding through the waves as you’re fully supported by Joel’s arms and body. 

“Fuck,” Joel chokes out, biting down into the curve of your neck to stifle himself. Your cunt still weakly tries to milk his cock as your hips twitch and jerk while you ease back down from your orgasm. You can feel the mess you’ve made. Hot and sopping wet, dripping down Joel’s cock and making you slip against his thighs. You’ve never made such a mess before. 

Joel shudders and tenses beneath you. Lifting you off of him with a familiar grunt. It’s his come leaking out of you. Your head swivels, “that wasn’t for you.” His cocky attitude from minutes earlier is gone; shame washes over him. His curls are no longer tamed like they were when he showed up at your door; one sticks to the sweat on his forehead. He breathes deeply, chest rising and falling, as he mouths a barely audible apology. 

It’s twisted that it stirs your need to comfort him. Fuck it. You figure the whole evening has been wild enough so far. Plus, he can take some of the emotional whiplash this time. You’re tired of being the one with that look on your face. You can see the taunt dancing on Dave’s tongue; you know he’s ready to cut Joel with vicious words, but he holds them, waiting for your lead. 

It’s an unbelievable position to be in. You aren’t used to feeling like you’ve got the upper hand in the power dynamic like this. Not with Joel. Not with two men that radiate dominance like it’s in their DNA. You’d like to savor the moment, but now that you’re not burning a horny fever, you realize how incredibly impractical it is to sit on top of such a large man inside of the car. You’re all gonna end up with neck cramps if you’re in here another minute. 

Despite dying to know what Dave’s holding back, you have more mercy than him or Joel. Joel, who currently can’t look you in the eye as he stays uncomfortably rigid beneath you, well, except for his spent cock. The thought makes you snort weakly, amused at your own sense of humor. 

You contort in Joel’s lap to kiss him softly on the cheek. “Chin up, Joel,” you lilt. “You can make it up to me. We’re not done yet,” you nod towards Dave who smirks darkly, “Unless you’ve changed your mind.” You open the door and hop out, leaving both men to watch you walk to the door. For the first time since you opened your door tonight, you’re alone long enough to let some nerves start to get to you. 

Your dates don’t follow immediately. They take long enough that you start to spin out in your head. Are you insane for this whole idea? Did you really just crawl under a table to Dave in front of Joel? In public? What the fuck are they talking about without you? You’re impatient now, arms crossed, leaning against the door frame, letting the cool night air stream into your living room. 

Then they’re striding towards you. Hungry eyes glinting. Both are intimidatingly gorgeous in their own ways. Dave exudes a slightly detached, effortless, authoritative swagger. It makes you feel special when he gives you his undivided attention. Joel is raw, slightly untethered like he’s always weary from warring with his own demons, but he still wields lethal power. They stalk towards you swiftly, catching your concern as they usher you towards your bedroom with more coordination than you expected. 

The door closes behind you with a soft click, but the tension in the air is heavy, as if someone had slammed it shut. Your room feels smaller with the weight of the situation about to unfold. Dave’s presence behind you makes your pulse quicken; the head of his body and his signature scent surround you. Joel watches, leaning against the door, arms crossed, jaw set, determined restraint weighing on his features. Despite the distance between you, Joel’s presence feels all-consuming. You’re mesmerized by his figure. His arms look even bigger, crossed in front of him, his broad shoulders, his pouty bottom lip, his strong jaw. You feel possessed with the need to …bite him? But, you don’t move. 

Dave’s fingers trace lightly down your spine as you continue to unabashedly ogle Joel, who stiffens at the sight of Dave’s hands slipping the straps of your dress over your shoulders. He’s unreadable, but the something simmering beneath the forced calm is contextually obvious. Joel’s trying to keep his cool; he doesn’t flinch, but he shifts, unable to remain still while he can only watch. 

Katie always referred to the chair in your room you designated as laundry purgatory as the cuck chair. It was only a joke, but if it isn’t perfect now. You glide across the room, tossing the worn-once sweatshirts and denim into the laundry hamper for future you to sort, offering the seat to Joel. It’s comical how his presence seems so out of place on the thrifted antique parlor chair.

You giggle softly as you spin back toward Dave, eager to find out what his depraved mind is plotting for the rest of the night. Dave’s voice is a low hum as he welcomes you into his arms, “Let’s make sure Joel gets a good look at what he’s missing out on, hm?” You nod, letting Dave arrange you as he pleases. “Pay attention,” he orders Joel, “I’m doing you a favor.” You can hear the devious glee lurking beneath Dave’s controlled tone. Joel’s dark eyes spark with something fierce as they flick to Dave before landing back on you. 

You can feel your pulse beating in your neck—and your cunt—as your chest heaves dramatically as Dave’s hands move over you. His touch is both tender and possessive as he makes a show of removing all of your clothes. It’s exaggerated to eat at Joel, but it works you up just the same. Dave pauses, letting his fingers hover over your nipples, brushing them just enough to make you shiver before kneading your soft tits, making you gasp. 

“You see that?” Dave asks over your shoulder, addressing Joel. “She’s so needy already. All worked up again. How are you going to satisfy her if she needs my cock right after you make her come?” 

You see Joel stiffen, gripping the arms of your chair like he might crush them. He’s still holding on to some semblance of composure, but it’s unraveling. You didn’t expect the dynamic between them to hit you straight in the pussy, but you’re dizzy, humming with anticipation. 

“On the bed, greedy girl,” Dave instructs. You follow without question, crawling onto the mattress, your pulse pounding in your ears. Joel’s eyes are glued to you, devouring every inch of your bare skin. It’s impossible for you to look away from him. His struggle as he works so fucking hard not to show how much he wants you, even though it’s written all over his face, is driving you wild. His fingers twitch as if he’s resisting the urge to touch you, to take. 

With your head still turned, locked onto the sight of Joel, your mouth parts in a soft gasp as Dave’s broad hands spread your legs wide, exposing your heated skin to the cool air in the room. You break away from your staring contest to catch the searing heat in Dave’s eyes before he lowers, pausing just before his lips brush against your swollen clit. He doesn’t ease the ache yet, lifting his head and turning to Joel with a smirk. “Come closer. You might learn something,” he challenges smugly. 

You’d roll your eyes at his arrogance, but then he dives in, tongue sliding against your slick cunt with devastating precision. You can only dig your fingers into your sheets as you arch and moan in response to his expert rhythm. With your eyes squeezed shut and your breath coming in uneven, shallow pants, you relax into the sensation coursing through you. 

“Tell him,” Dave hums into your skin, “Tell Joel how good it feels.” 

Your eyes flutter open, meeting Joel’s gaze. The sight of him has you at a loss for words. His face is expressionless, but as always, his eyes betray him. Sharp, hungry, and barely containing the storm inside of him. “So… feels, fuck, feels so good.” 

Joel’s chest rises and falls heavily. Dave’s taunts don’t hurt Joel’s pride, but watching you fall apart for another man twists his gut harshly. You’re so close he could count the beads of sweat forming on your chest. He can taste you and smell you, and it drives him wild. Like a beast, only held back by his hope to have a chance for more. 

Dave chuckles against you, his breath teasing your clit before he wraps his lips around it, sucking hard. The pleasure slams through you, and you cry out, your hips jerking against his mouth. Every nerve ending alight with sensation. You can’t think, only feel.

“She’s so responsive,” Dave gloats.

Joel doesn’t acknowledge the comment. His composure is cracking, the frustration bubbling to the surface. You can see it in the way his jaw clenches, the way his eyes stay glued to the place where Dave’s mouth moves over you with expert ease.

But Dave isn’t done with either of you yet. He pulls back from between your legs, his fingers trailing over your slick skin as he moves to stand. His eyes are alight with that dangerous gleam that makes your heart race. “Let’s show Joel what a dirty girl you are for me.”

You’re eager to obey. “How do you want me?” Your voice is breathy and ragged already. It only crosses your mind now that you’re completely naked while they’re still fully dressed. You sit up, reaching for Dave’s belt before he’s answered you. He takes off his shirt while you work diligently to release his cock. “Look at her, Joel,” Dave taunts, his voice thick with pride and adoration for you. “She just wants to be fucked right.” 

Joel swallows hard. The effort it takes to keep himself in check is wavering. He’s burning with the urge to claim you, to show you the meaning of being fucked right, to make you come so hard you forget Dave’s name. His ears ring, tuning Dave out completely, watching you adjust, lying back on your pillows, welcoming Dave between your legs. 

Joel is transfixed. Watching as Dave positions himself between your legs and slides into you with an agonizingly slow thrust. Distantly, he can hear you moaning loudly; he can hear Dave continuing to goad him about how tight you are and how he gives you what you need or whatever else he thinks matters. All Joel can process is the sight of Dave’s cock disappearing inside of you. Over and over and over again. 

A deep, nauseating wave of embarrassment sinks heavily into Joel’s stomach. You wanted to punish him? Like this? It’s too absurd to be a joke, to be a sick prank. It can’t be some kind of trap. You aren’t cruel like that. Worse. He’s trapped between his anger and arousal. Forced to watch as Dave takes you apart, piece by piece. Tortured by his own cock throbbing painfully in response to everything about you. He looks at your face and feels dismantled by your gaze. Hazy and sweet, you’re staring at him, wet lips parted as you gasp shallowly while Dave keeps up his pace. 

Joel’s composure is slipping, his hands flexing before he gives in, trying to readjust. Hoping to find the slightest relief as he palms himself over his jeans. Your brows wrinkle with pleasure, and a breathy “oh, fuck,” slips out of you. Seeing Joel so turned on just from watching you sends you rolling into a warm, vision-blurring climax. 

“I know,” Dave coos in your ear as you catch your breath, “I know.” He’s still murmuring against your neck, but it’s the silent exchange with Joel that makes you smile lazily. You think he figured it out, the power he has over you with just his expressions. That he’s the one that has you breathless. “Tell her,” Dave growls over you. 

“Good girl,” Joel utters hoarsely, mouth dry. He sees the glow wash over you at his words, and it clicks. Finally. Whatever it is between you affects you just as much. His punishment isn’t watching someone else please you, wondering if they really can make you feel better than he can. Wondering if they’ll treat you better. If you’re better off without Joel at all. No. 

It’s knowing they can’t. Knowing you’ve been just as empty without him as he’s been without you. That it’s been his fault. He’s made it worse. You’re all he can fuckin’ think about, and he’s in your head just the same. 

And right now his punishment is to wait this night out. To be vulnerable and reveal the truth. The desperate desire he has for you. He’s pathetic with it, honestly. He’ll sit here all night, show you how hard you make him, tell you how badly he wants you, describe how perfect you are, anything. It starts to pour out of him as his jealousy and anger recede. “So good, baby, you look beautiful, like a dream,” Joel’s voice is filled with earnest wonder. You beam, your eyelids heavy with lust as Joel continues. “I want you so bad it hurts. You’ve got me losing my fuckin’ mind.” 

“That’s a start,” Dave commends Joel before he shifts, pulling out and flipping you onto your hands and knees. You can hear Joel cursing under his breath as Dave kneads the plush curves of your ass, spreading you wide and showing off your glossy cunt. “You see that? Perfect, right?” He doesn’t wait for Joel to respond, focused on lining himself up and sliding back inside of you as deep as he can. 

Dave groans along with you as he lights up every nerve within you, and your pussy contracts coaxing him deeper. He pauses when his hips meet your ass, filling you to the hilt before he wraps an arm around you to pull your back flush against his chest. “Look at him,” Dave tilts your head to be sure you can take in Joel’s wrecked expression. “You think he deserves to touch himself while I’m fucking you?” Dave asks, shifting his attention back to you, mischief twinkling in his eyes. 

“No,” you reply, resolute. “He doesn’t deserve it. But I want to watch, so he will.” Dave’s grin widens, reveling in your direct nature. He lowers you, and you adjust, resting your cheek on your pillow so you can watch. “Please, Joel, let me see.” Your begging has the exact effect you wanted on Joel when you hear the throaty groan he makes. 

You squirm involuntarily when you finally get a clear view of Joel’s cock, clenching tightly around Dave’s cock. He hums behind you, muttering about how you’re unreal, and he hopes Joel can handle a woman like you as he slowly drags himself almost completely out of you before snapping his hips brutally, slamming back into you. 

You’re bewitched. The head of Joel’s cock glistens, weeping with precome, enticing, and menacing as his fist strokes slowly along his shaft. You’re salivating at the debauched scene and drenching Dave’s cock as he continues to slowly work you back up. The sounds of skin slapping against skin fill the room, mingling with your gasps and moans.

“You see that?” Dave asks you, “Look how desperate he is. You think he wants to come?” 

“Yes,” you reply, “fuck, yes.” 

“Ladies first, though, hm?” Dave muses as he picks up his pace, pushing you closer, finding the perfect angle that makes your mind go blank. The pressure builds inside you, and the louder you get, the more Joel starts to fall apart. Your flip between Joel’s eyes and his fist pumping his cock ravenously. For you. All for you. 

That sends you over the edge, wringing all the pleasure out of you, taking Dave with you as he stills against you, cock pulsing hotly inside of you, as your limbs feel weak and you sink into the mattress. You watch as Joel spills over his knuckles, cursing and grunting as he comes, and it makes you giddy. 

Dave kisses your shoulder tenderly, praising you quietly, just for you, before he gets up and, like clockwork, heads to the bathroom to clean up and get you a warm washcloth. You continue to grin loosely, giggling softly, still amused by how out of place Joel looks. You see the fear flit across his face, and a cold, nasty feeling rips through you as you brace for the worst. Cruel words spring up, ready to protect you, but you hold your tongue. You won’t guilt him into staying. You can’t choose for him. 

It’s a painfully long minute. He doesn’t look at you. You try not to shut down. And then Dave is back, ever the gentleman, with warm washcloths for both of you. He checks in with you softly, “What do you need?”

The words stick in your throat. You sit up and force yourself to get them out. It’s barely above a whisper. “I need to talk to Joel.” He looks at you finally, as if you whispering his name snapped him out of a trance. Dave nods. 

“You want me to stay?” Dave asks. You blink at him curiously. Neither of you do sleepovers. You don’t need a bodyguard. You must have it stamped across your forehead like a holiday package: fragile. 

“No.” 

He takes your word for it, redressing and heading out swiftly. Leaving you alone with Joel. 

Unreadable Joel. With no clues in his eyes or his body language. His head follows you, watching as you cross the room to grab a shirt. You honestly wonder if he could disappear in the half a second your vision is obscured while you pull it over your head, but he’s still there. So, you gather your courage and face him head-on. 

“Can we talk?”

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[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

imagine logan seeing you again, pt.3

logan x reader

summary: In his universe, Logan and you were in love. Then you died. Now he’s in a different timeline and you are very much alive.

warning: some deadpool x wolverine spoilers. this takes place after the movie. under 1k words. THIS PART IS UNEDITED SORRY

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

The air smelled like cigarettes and regrets, the perfect kind of bar for Logan Howlett. He walked in, tugging at his dark jean jacket. The place was dark sans a few overhead lights here and there, but he spotted you instantly at the bar. With your back to him, he watched as you slapped the counter several times. At first he thought you were made but he noticed the way the bartender was laughing. He moved closer to see what was going on and walked into the tail end of a story. “...and then Wade shit his pants! It was amazing.”

“I did not!”

Logan hadn’t noticed Wade next to you but the merc grew louder in trying to defend himself. Slightly amused, Logan ordered a beer and watched the pair of you go back and forth until you finally noticed him. You smiled and a hand fell on his shoulder as you stood up from the stool. He recognized how wasted you actually were and without thinking, caught you by the waist. “So you’ve been here for a while, I take.”

“Only like thirty minutes,” you mused, plopping back down onto the stool. Logan smirked and chugged down the beer placed in front of him. He was a certified drinker and the beer was basically water for the man. It felt good. He hadn’t drank much since coming to this new world - he was trying to be better but tonight, as he watched you mercilessly mocked Wade he felt like indulging. 

One night, would it be so bad?

“Logan, let’s take some shots.” You pulled him down next to you and he adjusted himself onto his seat, ignoring the way your hand on him made him feel. He needed more to drink if he was going to survive the night, so he ordered a round for the three of you. Then another and another…

“...is he always like that?”

You gazed up from the shot glass in your hand and followed the direction Logan was facing. Wade was caressing the pool stick in his hand as a failed attempt to distract the poor fella who agreed to a round. Laughing, you said yes and shrugged. “Wade is anything but boring. I like that about him.”

“How did you two get mixed up together?”

Logan felt more relaxed than when he first arrived two hours ago, his jacket was hanging off his chair and the sleeves to his dark henley were pulled up to his forearms. You tried not to stare too hard but you were only a woman. He was gorgeous and rough around the edges, defeat in his eyes but there was something more to the man next to you. 

“A friend introduced us, well, more like a frenemy of Wade’s. We’ve worked off and on for the last few years. He’s honestly, don’t tell him this, not that bad. Kind of annoying…”

Logan laughed, which surprised him more than you. His smile faded when the expression on your face turned into her. He felt ashamed, bashful, and he quickly ordered two more rounds. Sensing a shift, you changed the subject and asked if he had talked to Laura lately.

“She called the other day. Not sure I can give her what she wants…”

“Laura just needs support. People she can count on, friends,” you assured him. The rounds of tequila were brought over and Logan slid two shot glasses to you. You took one and lifted it up to him. “To Laura.”

Logan looked at you, eyes softened as his old heart beated faster than he cared for. Your hair was out of your face, eyes a bit glazed from the alcohol but there was something so different about you. Something the version of you he had loved didn’t have - happiness. You were just happy and satisfied with your life, and he couldn’t fathom it. Logan couldn’t understand how you could be so different from, well, you. There had been something so sad about the woman he loved, so melancholy. Always living for others but you, you sat next to him happy as a clam to be in some shitty little bar. With Wade accosting other customers, sitting next to a man you hardly knew but was so kind to. Logan felt sick to his stomach, guilty as hell because he wouldn't admit it. Too scared to admit that he was enjoying this version of you. Lighthearted and fun. 

You piece of shit, after all she had done for everyone. This is how you repay her? By drooling over another version of her? She died in your arms, you prick!

“Logan.”

Your voice was quietly sweet and he realized he had dazed off, immediately he pushed away all thoughts and chuckled. “To Laura.”

You grinned and clicked your glass against his before downing it. Then you toasted to Wade and Logan begrudgingly joined in for the second shot. Too much alcohol had circulated in your body now, your head felt lightheaded and suddenly, you were braver than you had ever been. Recognizing the song playing over the speakers, you casually suggested Logan take you out to dance. Logan snorted at such a suggestion, thinking you were messing with him but you just stared at him.

“You can’t be fucking serious!”

“Don’t cuss at me, Logan.”

Your tone felt very final but the smile on your face was light and in that moment, Logan couldn’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He stood up from his stool, a cold stone expression on his face as he took your hand and cursed under his breath as he pulled you to the small dancing area across the room. He ignored the staring coming from Wade, who was still playing pool. Holding back a laugh, you allowed Logan to pull you to him, one arm around your waist, while the other held your hand. His body felt strong against yours yet his fingers were gentle, tender as they held you.  Your hand slipped up his back and Logan stilled for a single moment when your head rested against his shoulder before he relaxed. He led the dance, slow methodical steps but maybe it was the drinking that had you feeling dizzy and far too relaxed. Neither of you said a single word the entire song, Logan just held you in his arms and hated that he didn’t hate it. He could have gone all night on the dance floor with you against him, his hands on you. He didn’t mind it one bit and when the song ended, he felt disappointed in so many ways.

“Thanks for the dance, Logan,” you mused, patting him on the chest. His hands fell from your body and he couldn’t manage a smile. His eyes were glued to you as you mentioned you needed to use the restroom.His fingers slowly, painfully released you from his grip. You smiled at him and walked toward the bathrooms. Logan stood there as the next song played, something more upbeat and he could feel Wade’s annoying stare but he couldn’t take his eyes off where you stood. Back home, he never danced with you. You weren’t the dancing type, you had been far too busy to enjoy those sorts of things. This had been a first for him and tried so hard to picture the woman he loved in his arms but all he could see was you. 

“You’re so fucked.”

Logan snapped out of his thoughts and glared at Wade, who stood at his side. “Got the hots for the ghost of your girlfriend, huh?”

“You don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.”

Wade threw an arm around Logan’s shoulder and noted he knew more than he led on. “That cute little snapshot you have in your wallet? I gotta say, you have a type.”

“Don’t touch my shit again,” Logan warned him. He forgot about the photo in his wallet. Wade smirked and nodded to where you were coming from the bathrooms. 

“Your secret is safe with me…for now, asshole. Just letting you know, you break her heart and I break your small little dick, got it?”

Logan ignored the man and pushed him away as you walked up with a curious glance. Wade flipped him off and wandered back to the pool table. You asked what that was about and Logan said nothing. “Another round?”

“Hell no,” you laughed, bouncing on the heels of your feet. “I am hungry though…I know a really good burger place…”

Perfection. That’s what you were, that’s what this all felt like for Logan and he knew then, Wade was completely right - he was so fucked. Logan agreed, the two of you walked back to the counter for your things. He put on his jean jacket and you grabbed your bag, both of you agreeing to sneak out before Wade could follow. The night was cold but Logan felt nothing but a surge of warmth fall over his body as you walked alongside him. Talkative and a bit clumsy, so much so, he resigned his hand on the small of your back. You didn’t seem to mind and he didn’t either.

So the two of you walked on, disappearing into the night crowd of the city - Logan’s hand, warm on your back. 

...............

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[daydreamerwoah]

Family Tree

Alright so this was the first chapter I posted on my AO3. I hadn't started on a new chapter (cause I really abandoned this idea lol). But I think this is the second story I want to work on... It'll be a slow burn, so I think I'll be taking my time writing this. But I want to see how you all like the first chapter... send me all the feedback (if it's a stupid idea please tell me lol!)

Simon x you story <3

Moving. It was something you were so unpleasantly familiar with. You had moved more times than you could count in your lifetime. But moving to Hereford, UK.... what creator above the skies decided on that? You could have said no; you had a choice..... yet you chose to move halfway across the world to that small town all because of the phone call you received a couple of months ago. 

"H-hello?" you groggily asked when you set your phone on your ear. 

"Hi may I speak with Y/n Greene?" the voice on the other end of the line was chipper; awake. And a thick British accent.

One of your eyes opened to look at the clock on your nightstand. It read 1:48am. Who the hell was calling you, awake, at this hour?

"Yeah? Who is this?" 

"My name is Colonel Henry Williams... I'm calling you about your father-"

"-My father?" Your other eye opened as you sat up in bed, confused. 

"Yes ma'am... Major Charles Campbell." 

You had no idea who the guy was talking about, "I'm sorry. Who?" 

There was a long pause on the other end of the line. You almost wondered if the man hung up the phone until he spoke again. "Y're Y/n Greene no?"

"Yes. Look I don't know who-"

"- is your mother's name Mary Greene?" You froze. How did he know that? You answered 'yes' as you turned the lamp on your nightstand, "Alright. You're the right contact then. Miss, I'm sorry to have to tell you this," he paused for a moment, "Y're father - Charles Campbell - recently passed away."

While any other child would be devastated to hear the news that their parent has just died, you were more confused than anything. Your mom and dad were still in Chicago. And while you hadn't spoken to them in a long time, you knew for a fact that if either of them passed your aunt would have called you; not some British guy claiming he was a Colonel......right?

When you hung up from him, you almost went back to sleep. Except your mind was racing. None of it made sense, yet something in your gut was telling you to call the one woman you had been avoiding since you graduated from college. Your eyes glanced back at the clock; 2:30am. You guessed you could wait until at least the sun was up before dialing her number. So you did. Painfully slow as you couldn't go back to sleep. You found yourself pacing around your apartment for those four hours until you knew - or assumed - your mother would be up getting ready for work. When the time neared 7am, your shaky hands scrolled your phone to the contact 'Mary'. If it had been any other situation, you would have scoffed at the name. Most people have 'Mom' in their phone for the parent who gave them birth. But you.... you hadn't called her that in a long time. 

"Y/n?" she answered. Not even a proper hello. 

"Hey uh.. sorry to be calling so early-" you stumbled over your words. You were nervous.

"-Oh it's okay.." 

There was a long, awkward pause. You nervously bit your lip. A part of you wanted to ask how was she doing, but you knew better. The answer would always be the same. 

"Listen.... I got a call from someone last night. Well early this morning. Something about my dad? Charles Campbell?" You rushed out before you chickened and hung up the phone in her ear. 

The sharp breath you heard on her end of the line made you shut your eyes. 

"C-Charles?"

You sighed, "Yes..." 

She stuttered, "I-I.... oh Y/n. I mean-"

"-You told me Rick was my dad." You declared a harsher than you wanted to be." 

"He is your dad sweetie."

Frustration swam through your veins, "Don't lie to me Mary."

Another long and awkward pause between your conversation almost caused you to hang up the phone, but then you heard her sniffle. A long story full of emotions came babbling out of her mouth as she explained the full truth about Charles Campbell. He was your real dad. 

A lot of cursing and yelling came from your mouth as she continued to tell you why she never told you; why she thought it was for the best to keep this secret. Even your - well now stepdad - knew everything, yet no one said a goddamn thing. You were so sick of her bullshit. Your whole life was nothing but chaos and it all came from her choices. The constant moving, her in and out of mental institutions and rehab, Rick's constant distaste for you in your own house. You were so lucky to have left all of it behind when you turned 18, but it wouldn't be easy. It's never easy letting go of someone you're supposed to love. College years were spent struggling to keep up your grades and cleaning up the mess from those two adults. 

You thought back to the conversation with the Colonel and his offer; to move to England since the house was left to you from your dad's will. An opportunity you thought about for two days before calling the man and stating you would be there. A part of you just wanted to see the other part of the world. The other part was ready to get away from it all forever. Your aunt cried when you told her. Your job was a bit sad, but like any job, they would find a replacement. Your mom... well you hadn't spoken to her since that day when she told you everything. 

It was the beginning of a new life.

************************************************************************

You dashed into the cafe from the rain. It was one thing you had quickly gotten used to, but still sometimes hated. The rain was comforting, but not when you were trying to get to work. You had yet to buy a damn umbrella although you kept telling yourself you would. There was a line that formed in front of the register and you internally sighed as you pulled the hood off of your head. You glanced down at your watch; you had some time before you needed to be at work so it eased your mind a little bit. At least the cafe was warm inside with its aroma of coffee, tea, and soft jazz music.

When it was your turn to order, you asked for the same drink you always got; a latte and made it to go. The barista gave you the same curious look as she did each time she saw you. You quickly paid for your drink and took a few steps back to turn around to stand off to the side to wait for your order when you backed up into something hard. 

"Shit sorry," you quietly said as you turned and looked at what you bumped into. 

"S'alright" the gentleman said. 

He was tall; massive; arms bigger than the side of your thigh, with a balaclava on. He had his hood up that was drenched from the rain outside. His dark clothing made his presence feel colder. You blushed in embarrassment from bumping into him; being clumsy in public seemed to be something you did at times. The man's eyes raked over you as you looked back at him. A beat went by until you realized that you standing in his way from ordering; the barista clearing her throat loudly. You quickly moved out of the way and waited for your drink, hoping they'd call out the order before the man finished placing his at the register. Luck - not on your side today - slipped away as he made his way in your direction to wait on his drink as well. He stood next to you, crumbling the receipt in his hand and placing both in his pockets. 

God he was huge; 6'3" compared to your height, he towered over you even with the space between. 

When the barista called out your order, you quickly walked up to the counter, grabbed the to-go cup, and thanked the girl. The man's eyes followed you... curiosity lingering behind the mask as he took in your presence - slightly flustered and in a hurry. You took one last look at him, offering a quick smile before dashing out of the cafe to work, thankful to be out of the awkward situation. 

Being a nurse, you're saving lives each day, but still, there was a big difference from being a nurse in a different country. You were buddied up with another nurse, Ella to help with your onboarding and training. She was a few years younger than you and was eager to help you find your way around the hospital and systems. The thing that stood out to you the most was the dog tags she wore around her neck. In the beginning, you asked her if she was ex-military, but she only smiled and told you that it was her boyfriend's tags. He was in the military and often gone so she wore them as a form of good luck that he'd return to her safe. 

"The base is 'bout 15 minutes from here," she explained. 

You only nodded and smiled; you were aware of where the base was. The first day you arrived, you met Colonel Williams at the airport who escorted you to his office. There was paperwork you had to sign regarding your father, including his house, assets, and more that they had information on and they were able to help sort it all out with you. The Colonel even offered assistance with you finding a job - which he helped you get at the hospital. You couldn't have been more grateful honestly. 

It was also something you hadn't really talked to Ella about. She only knew that you moved to the area because of family, and she easily picked up on how uncomfortable you were to even say that. You stayed to yourself mostly, and that's how you wanted it to be. Although she was determined to break down those walls you had. Deep down she and you both knew that you needed a friend, someone to lean on. You didn't know anyone in the entire country, and if anything were to happen to you, at least she would be there to call the police. But you were stubborn; that was for sure. 

Ella glanced at you, "You want to go for drinks after our shift?" she asked. 

Every muscle in your body tensed as you wrote down your shift notes. You briefly looked up as you responded to her, "Uh sorry. I need to take care of a few things after work." 

You didn't lie... you didn't tell the full truth either. But Ella didn't need to know that. While you didn't have to take care of anything per se, you did need to go somewhere after you got off. 

"Maybe next time then," she smiled. 

One thing about Ella... she wouldn't let your rejections to hang out deter her from asking any chance she got. 

************************************************************************

The sun was setting as you walked past the many gravestones looking for the one you needed to find. The air was chilly from the rain earlier, making you shiver a bit as you continued on the path. 

Even though you had been in that town for almost a month, you had yet to visit your dad. It felt.... strange; paying respects to someone you never knew. But as you strolled up to the tombstone that read his name, a part of you felt like this was all a dream. Maybe even a nightmare that you couldn't wake up from. You laid the flowers in front of the grave as you continued to look at his name - Major Charles Campbell. 

"Uh.. I know..." you put your hands in your pocket, nervous about what the hell to even say out loud, "I-I'm Y/n... your daughter...... To be honest, I'm a bit lost for words right now. I had no idea you were my dad," a soft and bitter chuckle escaped your lips, "If Mary was anything back then like she is now, then I'm sorry you had to deal with her-" a long sigh drew from you, "but I'm here now.... I'm sorry I never got to meet you.... a Colonel is helping me sort everything out so I'll get the keys to the house soon." You look up at the sky, cursing to yourself at how stupid you thought you sounded, "Charles - dad - even though I didn't know you, I hope I'll get to see you in heaven one day. Maybe you can tell me all about you."

You hadn't realized that a lone tear trickled down your cheek until you felt the cold breeze. You quickly wiped it away before sticking your hand back in your pocket and turning to leave the cemetery. 

If you all do like this and want me to continue, let me know. If you want to be tagged I will add you :)

[achilles-rage]

Water Pressure

summary: you go to work early one morning to shower because your hot water isn't working, and eddie catches you using the shower head on yourself.

word count: 1.6k

request: anon- Hi there! Could I request either Eddie Diaz being walked in on masturbating by colleague reader or him walking in on her using the shower on herself at the firehouse because the water pressure and it’s really early so she thinks no one else is there. Or both lmao I don’t mind

a/n: i’m sorry this isn't longer, i’m lowkey in a slump rn💋enjoy<3

warnings: smut, plus size!reader, fem!reader, race inclusive!reader

MDNI- 18+ only!

You walk into the firehouse early in the morning, much earlier than your shift starts, but your hot water has been turned off for a couple days while your landlord fixes some plumbing issues, so here you are. You greet the b-shift as you walk in, their sleepy forms lounging around the upstairs area as they wait for their shifts to be over. You know they won’t bother you while you shower; for them, this time in the morning is merely a waiting game for whether they’ll be sent out on a call or if they’ll be able to spend the rest of their long shift in peace.

You make your way to the showers and hop right in, dropping your bag and clothes on the bench and hanging your towel on the hook on the way. You hum softly as the hot water hits your skin and steam fills the air around you. As you stand in the water, you feel your muscles relax, and after a few minutes, you realize how good the water pressure actually is. You haven’t been able to do this for a couple of days, and you’re so worked up that you can’t help but reach up and grab the handheld shower head and angle it at your swollen clit. You let out a soft exhale as you tilt your head back, teasing yourself as your other hand moves to the shower wall, keeping yourself balanced as you give yourself some much needed relief. 

You’re so caught up in your own little world that you don’t hear Eddie coming into the room, and you also don’t notice that your shower curtain is slightly agape, giving him the perfect angle. He freezes as he sees your naked form, eyes trailing down from your blissed out expression to your soft chest and tummy, and it takes him a moment to notice what exactly you’re doing. He thought he would come in early and get a workout in before work, but now he feels both happy that he chose to do so, and guilty, because he can’t tear his eyes away from your plush body.

He’s always thought you were gorgeous, and he loves how much you put into your job, but you’re just friends. 

He wants nothing more than to get into that shower with you and take over, but he doesn’t know if you feel the same, and he’s very sure you seeing him watching you would not be something you would welcome. 

But still, he can’t tear his eyes away, and he feels his shorts getting tight as he hears your breathy moans, just loud enough to hear over the water hitting the tile floor. 

As you continue to point the water on yourself, you feel eyes on you, and although you’re sure no one is, you open your eyes anyway. It’s only then that you make eye contact with Eddie through the cracked open shower curtain, and you freeze, your mouth agape. Your first instinct is to close the curtain and never speak to him again, but your eyes study his face, and you can see the lust in his eyes. Your eyes trail down his body and you can see the tent forming in his shorts, and you inhale a sharp, surprised breath. You both lock eyes again, neither of you making a move to each other, but also not moving away either.

“Can I come in?” he asks after a moment, a smirk forming on his face as he sees you swallow and nod. He strips himself of his shirt and shorts and drops his bag beside yours on the walk over to your shower, then steps in and closes the curtain the whole way, as if that would stop anyone that may walk in from knowing what’s about to happen. 

He meets your lips in a desperate kiss, his hands coming up to cup your cheeks as he pushes you back against the wall. Your hand that’s not holding the shower head moves to his chest, slowly making its way up and so your arm wraps around his shoulder as the other reaches up to haphazardly put the shower head back in place. Once you do, your other arm wraps around him as well, and he moves his hands down to your hips, pulling you into him as he kisses you fervently. You part your lips and tilt your head to deepen the kiss, and he groans against your lips as he feels your soft tummy against his hard cock.

He rocks his hips against you slightly, desperate for friction, and you whine softly, reaching down to pump him a few times. You part from the kiss and look down, watching your hand move over his impressive length, and his eyes follow yours. After a moment his hands move to your jaw and he tilts your head back, allowing him to nip and suck on your neck with quiet moans escaping his mouth. He makes his way down to your breasts, feeling the water hitting his back as he squeezes your breasts between his hands and marks your chest with dark spots. He’s about to kneel down in front of you, but you shake your head quickly, keeping him standing in front of you. 

“Need you now.” you whisper in a pleading voice. You both have been waiting for this for so long; spending hours and hours together without much more than a friendly touch, so neither of you feel like you can wait any longer to give in. 

He smirks, mumbling a “yes ma’am” as he grabs the back of one of your thighs, lifting your leg and hooking it around his waist. He keeps his grip on your thigh as he places his other hand on the wall beside your head, and lets out a low groan as he feels your hand wrap around his cock again, lining it up with your dripping core. 

He wastes no time, and pushes into you quickly, barely giving you enough time to adjust before he starts snapping his hips against yours. Soft moans fall out of both of your lips as he moves, and your hands move up to grip his shoulders. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting for this. Having you spread open for me.” he rasps in your ear, and you whimper softly in return. The words go right to your core as you imagine it; all those times you’ve caught him looking at you, he was actually looking at you, and not just because you were friends.

You tilt your head back as he moves even quicker, meeting your hips in rough thrusts as he rests his head in the crook of your neck. You bite your lip to stifle your moans, still having half of a mind to keep quiet, but it’s difficult. You’ve wanted this for so long, and you can hardly hold back with how his cock is sliding into you so perfectly.

“God, you feel so good, mi amor. So good for me.” he whispers in your ear, then reaches down to rub at your clit with his fingers. You let out a high pitched mewl as his fingers circle your clit, and you arch your back into him, feeling your high quickly approaching.

“Oh my god.” you get out through quiet moans, hands moving down his shoulders to his back and pulling him impossibly closer to you. You’re desperate for more of him, if even possible, and he chuckles into your neck, kissing your skin haphazardly. He’s so close, and he’s eager to get you right there with him before he comes too soon. 

“You gonna cum for me, huh?” he grunts, leaning back to look into your eyes. You nod, looking up at him through hooded eyes as your body moves in time with his thrusts. If you weren’t so focused on the pleasure, you’d feel the dull pain of your back pressing up against the hard tiles behind you, but right now, you couldn’t force yourself to care even if you tried. 

“Let go for me, baby. Let me hear you.” he whispers, and after a few more thrusts, you’re coming with a loud moan. He presses his lips to yours quickly, trying to muffle your noises as your body goes taut, and after a second, he’s falling right over the edge after you. He keeps his cock deep inside of you as he empties himself into your warm cunt, his hand moving down your neck and to your hip, squeezing it in an attempt to keep himself grounded.

He buries his face into the crook of your neck as you both catch your breath, and after a moment he pulls out, cupping your face in his hands and kissing you gently. 

“We should probably get ready. Our shift starts soon.” he tells you, although no part of him wants to leave you right now. You nod, swallowing as you feel your heart rate returning to normal, and give him a soft smile.

“Maybe after our shift I’ll take you out?” he asks, almost nervously. He’s worried that you’ll say this was just a one time thing, that you don’t want him like that, but his worries vanish when he sees your smile widen.

“I’ll hold you to that, Diaz.” you tease him softly, leaning in to give him one more peck before he finally pulls away. He begrudgingly moves to the shower beside yours, washing the sweat off of him before your shift starts while you do the same. After a few minutes, you can hear people outside the room talking to each other and getting ready for the day ahead, and both of you smile to yourselves, knowing that you would’ve most certainly been caught if either of you lasted any longer.

notes: likes/comments/reblogs would be much appreciated if you liked this<33

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[official-cvntified-gay]

Can i get Sugar mommy Alcina? 😭🙏

Reader found her profile and fell inlove instantly, (because who wouldn't) and idk you can do whatever you want with the rest 😗

Thanks and loveeeeee your work so much!💞💞

𝐖𝐡𝐲 𝐍𝐨𝐭? [𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐢𝐧𝐚 𝐃. 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫]

❥warnings: smut, sugar realness, public sex

❥note: I am so sorry darling it took me so long to upload this, I gotta say, writing smut is so hard(I get all hot and bothered) on my knees to all smut writers, thank you for feeding us. And thank you anon and I hope you enjoy this filth<3

❥note: request is open<3

You had no intention of diving into a sugar relationship, but curiosity got the best of you one late evening as you scrolled through various profiles on a niche site. You weren't even seriously looking until she appeared on your screen.

Alcina Dimitrescu.

It was impossible to ignore the immediate impact she had on you. Her profile was captivating, her beauty mesmerizing, and her wealth? Well, it was obvious she didn’t need to flaunt it—her elegance spoke volumes. Standing taller than any woman you’d ever seen, her striking dark hair cascading down her back, sharp cheekbones that could cut glass, and the grace in her piercing gaze made you pause. The way she carried herself, even in a few photos, was magnetic.

A playful grin tugged at your lips. Why not? You thought as you typed a message, half-expecting not to hear back. But, to your surprise, it took mere minutes before a response pinged in.

"You’re quite bold to approach me, darling. Care for a drink tomorrow night?"

Your heart nearly leapt out of your chest as you read it. Tomorrow? Alcina Dimitrescu wanted to meet you tomorrow night? The thought was dizzying.

The next evening, you found yourself dressed in your best, standing nervously in front of one of the most luxurious hotels in town. The butterflies in your stomach only worsened when a sleek black car pulled up, and the driver opened the door to reveal her.

Alcina stepped out gracefully, her figure impossibly tall, dressed in an exquisitely tailored black dress, her red lips curled into a knowing smile. You felt your pulse quicken as her golden eyes swept over you.

“Well, aren’t you just darling?” she said, her voice smooth like velvet, with an edge of amusement. “Shall we?”

You nodded, speechless, as she offered you her hand—cool, strong, and commanding. The touch sent shivers down your spine as she led you into the hotel, whisking you away to a private lounge that screamed exclusivity.

Conversation flowed easily, and though Alcina radiated power and grace, she was attentive, never making you feel lesser despite her imposing figure and wealth. There was undeniable chemistry—her eyes never straying far from yours, her voice laced with quiet seduction as she inquired about your life, your interests, all while making her intentions clear.

After that night, Alcina kept her promise, sweeping you into her world of luxury. But each encounter revealed more than just opulence. With every passing day, you started to see behind her controlled exterior. At first, she showered you with gifts—lavish dinners, designer clothes, and trips to private locations. Yet, amidst the grandeur, something in her softened.

Months passed, and your relationship with Alcina grew more profound and passionate. She wasn’t just spoiling you with her wealth anymore—though she did love to see you dressed in the finest clothes and accessories—but there was a deep connection between you two that transcended the material world. Her affection had shifted into something tender, something that felt like home. She had started trusting you with more of her personal life, and her once-impenetrable walls had crumbled in your presence.

One afternoon, Alcina decided to take you shopping in one of the most exclusive boutiques in town. She had mentioned a gala was coming up, and of course, you needed to be dressed to perfection for the event. As you entered the store, you were greeted by the staff as if you were royalty. Alcina’s commanding presence made it clear that this was no ordinary shopping trip—she wanted to spoil you, and nothing was off-limits.

Her eyes scanned the racks of elegant dresses, pausing at a sleek, black gown that immediately caught her attention. She turned to you, a smirk tugging at her lips. “I think I’ve found the one for you, darling,” she purred, holding the dress up for you to see.

The gown was stunning—long, with a dangerously high slit on one side that promised to show just enough to make hearts race. You could already feel Alcina’s eyes tracing the path that the dress would reveal.

“I’ll try it on,” you said, your heart already pounding.

The boutique’s fitting rooms were just as luxurious as the rest of the store, complete with velvet curtains and gilded mirrors. As you slipped into the dress, you could feel the fabric hugging your body in all the right places. It was a perfect fit—sensual and elegant, just the kind of look Alcina loved on you.

You stepped out of the fitting room to show Alcina, her gaze locking onto you immediately. Her golden eyes darkened with a familiar, smoldering intensity as she drank in the sight of you in the dress.

“Turn around for me,” she said, her voice low, but there was a fire beneath it.

You obliged, slowly turning so she could see every angle. The slit of the dress revealed the smooth curve of your thigh, and you could feel her gaze lingering there. The air between you grew thick with tension as she stood up, her towering form moving closer.

“You look exquisite,” she murmured, her fingers lightly brushing against the exposed skin of your thigh. The simple touch sent a jolt of heat through your body, and you swallowed hard, trying to focus.

Before you could say anything, Alcina’s hand slid to your waist, pulling you closer. Her breath was hot against your ear as she whispered, “I can’t resist you like this.”

Her lips ghosted over the curve of your neck, and a shiver ran down your spine. You tried to keep your composure, but her proximity, her scent, the way her hands caressed you—it was overwhelming. The fitting room suddenly felt far too small for the desire crackling between you.

“We’re in public,” you managed to whisper, though your voice was shaky with need.

Alcina chuckled softly, her lips brushing against your earlobe. “Then we’ll just have to be quiet, won’t we?”

Before you could protest further, Alcina was guiding you back into the fitting room, pulling the curtain closed behind her with a swift motion. The space felt even more intimate with her towering figure crowding you against the mirror. She tilted your chin up, her golden eyes locking onto yours with a hunger that made your knees weak.

Her lips crashed onto yours, and all thoughts of resistance vanished. The kiss was deep, demanding, and you melted into her touch, your hands gripping her shoulders as if to steady yourself. Her hands slid down the curve of your waist, fingers grazing the slit of the dress as she traced the bare skin beneath.

The heat between you was undeniable. Alcina’s touch was firm yet gentle, her lips moving against yours with a raw passion that sent waves of desire coursing through you. Her hands explored your body with practiced ease, and it wasn’t long before you were both lost in the moment, the world outside fading away.

Her lips left a burning trail down your neck, her fingers slipping beneath the fabric of the dress as she whispered against your skin, “I want you, here and now.”

Your breath hitched, and you nodded, unable to form coherent words. You didn’t care that you were in a fitting room, or that anyone could walk in at any moment. All that mattered was the way Alcina made you feel—desired, cherished, and utterly consumed by her touch.

As the intensity between you deepened, her lips found yours once again, and you surrendered completely to the moment. The fitting room became your world, and Alcina was all you could think about—her touch, her scent, the way she made you feel like you were the only person that mattered.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of waiting, she move your lacy panties to the side, teasing your clit with her feather like touches.

"I know, sweet girl." She coos as you whine at her teasing, she made sure you were nice and wet for her. She coats her fingers with your juices before finally inserting her fingers into your aching hole.

Her hand pat your head as you rest your forehead on her shoulder, biting your lips as you contain your moans and whimpers. “Shh, darling,” she whispered soothingly. “We wouldn’t want anyone to know, would we?” she gently pull your hair back as she asked you, all you could do was gave her a nod as another whimper escaped your lips.

"Leg up, sweet girl." she wrap your leg around her waist, giving her better access and her fingers going deeper, your head resting against the mirror as her fingers continued to thrust sporadically against your walls.

Eyes closed, lips bitten, strained moans and whimpers

This woman knows what she's doing and she does it so well.

"Everything alright in there ma'am?" Your body jolts in shock as the staff knocks on the door, Alcina immediately brings her hand around your mouth. Her fingers thrusting faster and curling simultaneously in that spot, she smiled as your eyes widen then rolled back.

"Everything's all good." She answered the woman calmly as you fell apart against her fingers, Alcina kiss your forehead as the woman kept talking.

"Alright ma'am, if you're settled with your dresses just come to the cashier and we'll assist you." The woman said, unaware of what's happening just a few steps from her. Sweats are forming on your forehead as you feel your whole body warming.

"We're definitely coming." Alcina removes her hand as the oblivious woman walk away. "Come for me darling." With that your whole body follow her sweet words, trembling against her fingers, high-pitched moans and whimpers left you while your cum drips down her fingers.

Legs shaking as she let you rode your orgasm before pulling out, stroking your hair as you catch your breath. Alcina whisper sweet words and encouragement to you, kissing you as she muttered how good you are for her. You rest your head on her shoulder, nuzzling your face on her neck as she stroke your back.

The world outside could wait. Here, in this moment, it was just the two of you, tangled in a web of desire and affection that felt both overwhelming and perfect. And as Alcina whispered your name against your skin, you knew that this was more than just a fling, more than just a casual romance.

This was something real. Something powerful. And you were all in.

[devnmon]

to be loved is to be changed.

Summary: Cutting Daryl's hair and his uncertainty around the idea of a walled community that's survived thus far.

a/n: back to writing daryl like i never left! i wanted this to be mostly soft but i realized thats unrealistic for him during the first days in alexandria. twd rewatches really do it in for me huh. wrote this in two days cause it was an idea i really liked and wanted to put it out there. enjoy <3

no warnings except suggestive at the end! | wc: 2k

Daryl was not amused. By any of it.

Exhausted, covered in sweat, on edge, sure.

But amused? No. Far from it.

Absurd. That's what it was. To walk into metal walls of a community and trust it's exactly how it looks... that was the furthest thing from happening.

So when everyone else was taking advantage of the running water and toiletries, Daryl sat in protest. He would never fit in here, no matter how long they stayed. If this place lasted that long.

He sat in the filth and sweat and grease that coated his skin, sweat painted forehead and hair stuck to the back of his neck. Dark bangs covered his eyes, peeking through the hair as if it were to shield him from the darting eyes of people around him.

Though nothing would compare to how terribly out of place he felt. It took him a lot to feel included in Rick's group, to utter family in a world he thought he'd spend with his brother.

But now, they all were his family; Rick, Maggie, Glenn, you. Picking him back up by the knowledge that he can try to start over every single day.

He wouldn't-- no, couldn't conform to the pristine, blind-eyed disposition he saw in all the people living so wonderfully in this place.

Not being how he was out there didn't feel like him. Felt the farthest thing from it when he knew everyone else just felt grateful to not be out there. At least, almost all of them did.

Those people hadn't seen what you'd all seen. What you experienced, who you'd lost on the road. They didn't know.

Seeing you and Carol and the others refresh yourselves with soap and clean clothes that weren't stained by sweat or blood made him scoff.

How could you let down your guards so quickly? Give up the weapons you slept next to and gripped tightly to like they were merely objects and not a part of you.

His bow was like a second skin. What made you all indifferent?

You, once terrified of the outside, became a strengthened version of yourself. No longer shying away of everything that went bump in the night, too timid to move.

Then, you were safe inside yourself. Now, you were edged and cautious, backed by those you trusted.

To be invited back to a walled community with running water and actual houses? It sounded unreal.

But you were almost out there for too long.

Refreshing yourself from all that covered you on the outside only made you hopeful for what was to come. What could come. Optimism and hopefulness radiated from Deanna the minute you saw her face.

It was bizarre, seeing a bunch of people without the same hardened looks and dirtied clothes you all adorned. Strolling down the streets, going about their day like they were unaware of what the world was. Of what it had come to.

By the way they ogled as you passed by, dropping your weapons to be stored and trudging down the lane to be interviewed, they had not seen what you had.

They were the lucky ones. Lucky enough to hide behind steel walls and barbecues like the world hadn't stopped turning.

But you weren't as opposed to cleaning yourself up as much as Daryl was. A little nervous to be as vulnerable washing alone for the first time in months, but excited to see it all wash down the drain.

You knew Carol would be begging him soon enough. Not even a full day had passed and you had all jumped at the chance to have warm water rush over your skin. So your clothes wouldn't stick to your skin from the sweat and grime built up there.

If you could have stayed under the shower for the rest of your life without getting pruned fingers, you would have chose so in a heartbeat.

But spotting Daryl with the same dirt on his arms broke you a little. You knew how far he'd come since the quarry, how he was used to being on the outside.

You always knew he leaned into that part of him, the archer who never needed to rely on anyone for anything before. Watching him protect all of you though, that was the kicker.

"I'm gonna hose you down in your sleep." Said one Carol Peletier as she walked down the sidewalk, other members of your group further exploring as they'd been told to do so.

"You know she's serious about that hose." You began, walking out the front door to greet him.

Daryl scoffed and went back to playing with his bow.

"And I'd help her, if I didn't know how you are." You could see his blues peeking through the hair stuck to his forehead, almost poking into his eyes.

Standing next to him now, you reached out a hand to brush some of the hair out of his eyes, before cupping his cheek softly. He flinched at first, but welcomed your warm contact.

Daryl knew you cared for him, though being on the road had made him retreat inside himself again. Just before the prison fell, you saw that golden heart of his peek through his chest. But after Hershel, after Beth, he was overcome with a need to harden his exterior.

Any physical affection he was warming up to was all because of you, how your words disarmed him and tied a string around his lungs. Even if the road challenged him and your whole group, it was something familiar that you all knew like the back of your hand.

Walkers, people, the elements. The lot of you felt prepared to handle anything that was thrown at you.

But meeting Aaron, making it to his community and seeing how life could be from now on, instead of just making it-- that was something none of you had seen before.

"Could I be the one to convince you then?"

His eyes met yours, darting back and forth across your face and the background with uncertainty.

"Dunno." He shrugged, looking away off into the distance now.

"It's okay if it takes you a while, Dar. I know out there is where you feel the most you, but we don't have to just make it anymore. We can live. Feel some semblance of normalcy. But if it takes you longer than some of us, I get it."

"Y'think this is normal?"

"No... but we have to start somewhere. It started for me when I turned in my gun, precious as she is to me..." he glanced your way again, "And washing the outside off. Feeling how it was without all of that on my skin."

"Don't matter. Just gonna get dirty again."

You sighed, "Fine. If you won't take a shower, will you at least let me trim your bangs? They're covering your pretty eyes and you know how much I love to look at them."

One of the corners of his mouth twitched upwards, a semblance of a smile?

"Nothing crazy, Dixon, just a trim so they don't get in your way."

A gruff sound came from him before standing from the railing and letting his fingers brush against your shirt. He went to grab his bow before you reached for his wrist.

"You don't need it. We're just goin' inside, okay? We'll be more comfortable in there."

His stern look faltered, blinking a few times before nodding and leaving it to follow you inside, your hand in his.

Daryl spotted the comb and pair of scissors on the counter before he even got close to them, trusting you enough to go near his brown locks with something that sharp. He knew your steady hand was careful, having stitched multiple people up over the time you'd been with the group.

Clearing his throat as he sat, you picked up the scissors and comb and sat in front of him.

"Let me get all the knots out first, okay? Even though I'm just trimming your bangs, you deserve to be pampered a little. Are you okay with that?"

His eyes met the floor before looking to you, heart in your hands as you spoke. Silently he nodded, and you grinned before standing back up and moving behind him.

Your hands planted softly on his shoulders, feeling him fidget in his seat as you slowly rubbed his shoulders ever so slightly.

Fortunately for you, Daryl's hair was thinner and therefore less prone to knotting, but still had a few you took a minute to get through. The teeth of the comb scratched his scalp in such a way that was foreign to him, sending goosebumps down his spine.

The little sounds of content and enjoyment made you smile to know he was finding some comfort in what you were doing. It almost brought tears to your eyes at how much he trusted you.

Placing a kiss on the crown of his head, you walked back around to his front.

He grunted again, "Why'd ya stop?"

"I haven't even cut your bangs yet, Dar." You chuckled lightly, knowing a proper hair brushing would put him to sleep from how relaxing it was.

To be the only individual he'd ever let touch, let alone cut his hair, filled your chest with joy.

"Okay, now close your eyes and hold your head steady, here." Your soothing voice had him smitten, willing to be at your beck and call whenever you asked. This time was no different. He'd not known what he did to deserve you, much less anyone willing to get to know and trust him as he did you.

Two of your fingers lifted his chin and spotted those blues once again looking your way.

"You've got eyes like the ocean, Daryl. Wonder when I get to swim in them." He saw the stars in your eyes, something he hadn't seen since you all arrived at the prison.

Slowly you combed through the hair framing his face, separating it from the rest to begin trimming. His eyes fluttered shut as you lifted the scissors up.

The first snip was the most nerve wracking for him, hearing the scissors open and close. While a soft powdery aroma from the soap wafted from your skin, he realized that maybe it wasn’t the worst idea.

He's not sure the last time he's had his hair cut, if ever. Daryl decided it wasn't worth it to remember the past, and to just live in the moment now with you.

"Thanks," he mumbled, clear enough for you to hear. Your movements slowed a bit as you realized this was a big moment for him. Even bigger than when you admitted your feelings to him.

There was something about how easy it was for Daryl to unfold around you, not completely, but a bit more every day he got through with you by his side.

Little hairs floated to the floor as you trimmed, shedding them like he did the makings of his former self. It was mandatory, or else he wouldn't be where he is today.

"Of course. You do so much for everyone else, I'm lucky I get to do this for you. I'm happy to do this for you." Your hand grasped his, interlocking your fingers.

"Means a lot t'me." Slowly he lifted your hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to it ever so lightly.

A whiff of that soap you smelled so nicely of made his head spin, realizing that if you smelled like it, he wanted to as well. There would be more dirt and sweat to come in the future, if this is where they were going to be from now on.

"Don't be getting all sappy on me now, D."

Scoffing, he replies, "Stop."

"Just let me know when you're ready to take that shower. Or I'll let Carol know she can hose you down instead..." You joke, standing up before combing his bangs through once more.

"Nah, I'll take the shower." Daryl shook out his hair from the left over snipped pieces of hair and stood up.

"Oh yeah?" You turned and crossed your arms at him with disbelief.

"On one condition."

"And what's that?"

"You come and join me."

You smiled, uncrossing your arms and holding out a hand to him.

"Deal."

[vermilionsun]

Headcanons about how the LIs would kiss the MC for the first time? Definitely not ideas to draw-

oMG— HI HI HIIIIIIIIIII 🙋‍♂️🙇‍♂️ *exploads*

𝓐𝓲𝓼

✩ Probably happens in a dimly lit, secluded part of Eridia—perhaps an alleyway where the air is thick with the pungent stench of rotting garbage and decay. The narrow space between the crumbling buildings offers a rare moment of solitude in that God-forgotten city.

✩ Ais's eyes, usually sharp and alert, soften as they linger on the MC.

✩ In his defense, emotions were running H I G H. It's not his fault they were right there, looking so beautiful and absolutely enticing.

✩ His gaze remains locked on theirs, searching for something—maybe permission, maybe a sign that they feel the same pull that he does. When he finds it, his resolve seems to crumble, just a little.

✩ With a deep breath, as if steeling himself, Ais reaches out. His hand, usually so steady and sure, hovers for a moment before finally brushing against the MC’s cheek. The touch is surprisingly gentle.

✩ Yeah, the consequences could wait

✩ The kiss is slow at first, almost tentative, as if he’s testing the waters, unsure of how far he can go. But when the MC responds, the kiss deepens, becoming more intense.

There’s a rawness to it, an urgency that leaves them both breathless.

✩ Ais’s other hand comes up to cradle the back of the MC’s head, pulling them closer as if afraid they might slip away. The world around them—the decay, the danger, the darkness—melts away, leaving just the two of them, lost in the moment.

✩ When they finally pull apart, Ais’s breath is ragged, his forehead resting against the MC’s as he struggles to regain control. His eyes, once so unreadable, now shimmer with a vulnerability he’s never shown before.

✩ “Don’t make me regret this,” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, a plea wrapped in a warning.

𝓚𝓾𝓻𝓪𝓼

✞ The bitch /affectionately has been dropping shameless hints the moment he met them the very same day

✞ It is a wall. A very nice wall, if he has a say. He's the type to trap them between a rock and a... hard place [you guess which is which]

✞ "Well, he looks at me and I look at him And he looks at me and I look at him And he looks at me and I look at him" And it goes like that for a few agonising long moments. Mfr is like :3

✞ His expression is gentle, but there’s a depth of emotion there that he hasn’t fully expressed before. Eventually, mister giraffe leans down for a long peak. There’s no rush, giving the MC all the time in the world to decide if that is what they want.

✞ He kisses them with a kind of reverence, as if they’re something precious, something to be cherished.

✞ Oh, don't get me STARTED ON THE HAND PLACEMENT

✞ One hand on the small of their back, firm yet gentle, guiding them closer to him. The other hand tangled in their hair, fingers softly caressing the back of their neck.

✞ When they eventually pull apart, Kuras’s eyes remain closed for a moment longer, as if savoring the feeling, the memory of their lips on his. He smiles, but it’s tinged with a kind of sadness.

✞ Next moment, he's holding them tight against his chest, allowing them to feel the steady beat of his heart.

✞ “Thank you”

𝓛𝓮𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻

🗡 Takes place in The Wet Wick, buzzing with its usual crowd—a mix of unsavory characters, mercenaries, and those looking to drown their troubles in strong drink.

🗡 Leander leans in his chair, his posture relaxed. His fingers tap lightly against the rim of his glass, a playful smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

🗡 “You know, I can’t tell if you’re doing this on purpose,” his words, like always, are laced with that effortless charm.

🗡 Leander watches them for a moment longer, then, with a slow, deliberate movement, reaches out. His fingers lightly graze the back of the MC’s hand, sending a shiver up their arm. Leander’s touch is warm, and his lips even more so as places a soft kiss upon the bare knuckles, emerald eyes gleaming with adoration.

🗡 He then moves their hand to cup his cheek, leaning in...

🗡 The kiss is everything the MC might have expected from him—confident, intense, and undeniably passionate. His lips move against theirs with a kind of practiced ease, as if he’s done this a thousand times before.

🗡 His hand comes up to the small of their back, pulling them closer, his body pressing against theirs.

🗡 When he finally pulls back, his breath is ragged, a faint blush creeping onto his cheeks. His eyes are darker now, filled with something deeper.

🗡 He gives a small chuckle, though it’s softer, more vulnerable. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this”

𝓜𝓱𝓲𝓷

🕊 rOOFTOP KISS

The night sky is overcast, casting a muted gray glow over the city. A cool breeze rustles the MC’s clothes as they sit beside Mhin, both of them watching the distant lights flicker across the chaotic city below. The two of them sit in silence, a silence that’s not uncomfortable but rather familiar.

🕊 Mhin's shoulders are slightly less tense, their gaze lingers on the horizon rather than avoiding eye contact. They mightt be on the edge of letting something slip through the cracks of their defenses.

🕊 “Why are you still here? With me?” It’s a question born of clear curiosity, neither insecurity nor doubt.

They turn to face the MC, their heart beating a little faster.

🕊 For a moment, Mhin looks like they might pull back, might retreat into themselves the way they always do. But instead, they hesitate, their breath catching slightly as they move closer.

🕊 “Because I want to be.” It’s not an elaborate answer, but it’s the truth, and Mhin values honesty above all else. “Are you sure?” Mhin asks, their voice quieter still, almost like they’re asking themselves more than the MC. The MC nods, their gaze steady. “Yes.” 🕊 That’s all it takes.

🕊 Mhin is the one to close the final distance between them.

🕊 The kiss is delicate, almost fragile, as though Mhin is afraid to break something—perhaps the walls they’ve built around themselves [too late for that tho---] It’s not rushed or passionate, but slow and measured, like they’re trying to make sense of it.

🕊 Mhin’s hand hovers near the MC’s cheek, as if they want to touch but aren’t sure they should.

🕊 When they finally break the kiss, Mhin pulls back slowly, their gaze searching the MC’s face for any sign of regret or hesitation. There's definately color in their cheeks.

𝓥𝓮𝓻𝓮

✦ The alleyway behind The Wet Wick, where the flickering light from the tavern barely reaches. It's late, the streets mostly empty except for the occasional passerby, and the two of them have just slipped out of sight, away from the bustling noise of the tavern.

✦ “You really should be more careful around me, you know,” Vere says, his voice low and lilting, dripping with mock concern.

✦ He steps closer, his movements smooth, almost predatory, like a cat toying with its prey. He tilts his head slightly, amusement dancing in his eyes as he closes the gap between them.

✦ His hand moves to brush lightly against the MC’s arm, the touch barely there, more of a tease than a real caress. It's intoxicating, his scent a mix of something sweet and dangerous, like poisoned honey.

✦ They can’t tell if he’s about to kiss them or kill them—and that’s exactly how Vere likes it.

✦ His lips are soft, but there’s a dangerous edge to the way he kisses them, his teeth grazing their bottom lip just enough to send a shiver down their spine.

✦ His hand comes up to cup the side of their neck, his fingers lightly pressing into their skin, holding them in place as he deepens the kiss.

✦ It's as much a test as a promise, a dance on the edge of something darker, something dangerous. It isn’t just about fun for him—it’s about control.

✦ When he finally pulls back, his breath is ragged, his eyes w i d e and hungry. He lingers close, his lips still barely brushing theirs.

✦ “You’ve managed to exceed my expectations,” Vere murmurs, his voice soft but dripping with intrigue. "Kiss me like that again, and I might actually start to like you.”

[mellonieee]

Every single time Foop/Irep has ever interacted with and/or mentioned his parents

(OG FOP only because he hasn't talked about them once in A New Wish. That might change in season 2 if they decide to include the antifairies more. I love this family and their non-existent relationship ♥️)

I go into quite a bit of detail here so I'll put the rest under the cut!

1. Anti Poof (Season 7, episode 1)

This was the only episode his parents showed up on screen with him. But it's important to note how Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo react to his existence in the first place. They're excited!

They both want this child! Anti Cosmo starts the episode bemoaning the fact that there isn't an anti-poof and that he wants equality for antifairies. (Poof/Peri has existed for an entire season at this point.)

I'm assuming it's just the case of antifairy pregnancy possibly being longer than fairy pregnancy and the fact Poof/Peri was made through a magic wish unlike Foop/Irep that they weren't born around the same time, but who knows how any of that even works. But regardless of that, his parents are both overjoyed when Foop/Irep is born--Anti Wanda's love for her son is out of the question, and Anti Cosmo only gets mad at his son once Foop/Irep goes out and ruins anti fairy world, not in any other instance does Anti Cosmo act mean to Foop/Irep, even when he gets zapped twice by him, AC merely reprimands Foop/Irep by telling him that he needs a nap.

Gotta love the ending where his parents get him a cake and want to break him out of jail. Baby's first jail time!

Irep/Foop's second appearance Playdate of Doom (Season 7, Episode 22) doesn't have any mention to his parents, sadly. And oddly enough, this goes both ways with his parents. Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda appear in Balance of Flour (season 7, episode 29), which was their last and final on screen appearance in the original show, and they dont mention their son at all. It's noticably weird because Poof/Peri was there the entire time. Despite his parents disappearing off screen, the start of Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda getting mentioned does start the next season after.

2. Love Triangle (season 8, episode 1)

(I'm going to just refer to Irep and Peri as their current names from now on instead of using both because it gets tedious.)

Irep's Kelly Clarkson lunchbox aside--in this scene he states that his Mother packed Anti Venom in his lunch as well as his chicken nuggets. I like to think this means Anti Wanda packs his school lunch regularly because that's cute.

These constant mentions of his parents from here on out are notable because it means that even though they don't show up, heck, they don't even show up in the episode Spellmentary School is introduced despite Cosmo and Wanda being there and that being the perfect opportunity to use Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda, it's being implied and shown that Irep is still in the care and custody of his mother and father.

Despite showing up in season 9 by himself, Irep does not mention either of his parents again after the first episode of season 8, but it's still shown that he lives with his parents in their castle.

(image fromThe Terrible Twosome, Season 9, Episode 6)

3.Return of the L.O.S.E.R.S. (Season 10, Episode 7)

Irep starts mentioning his parents again starting in season 10. In this scene he states that he's in timeout for now because he put spiders in his father's food. If I wanted to get nitpicky about this, Love Triangle implies antifairies actually eat spiders and don't seem to mind.

New Headcanon: Anti Cosmo is the antifairy version of vegan or whatever and that's why he had issue with it.

Irep continues to mention his parents in a few season 10 episodes after this.

4. Blue Angel (season 10, episode 13)

Irep mentions that he took his rich father's credit card and used it to buy a bunch of cars to destroy the environment. I don't doubt Anti Cosmo has a ton of money considering he's the leader of the antifairies, but there's no way he actually gave Irep that card willingly lol. Outside of that the Chloe and Irep interaction in this was nice, the only part of the episode I really liked.

Irep continues to show up in season 10 after this episode and does not mention his parents in any other appearances outside of his last one. Which is episode 35...

5.Certifiable Super Sitter (season 10, episode 35)

Certifiable Super Sitter is that one episode with the Vicky chainsaw image that people keep ragging on because it breaks every established rule. Peri doesn't show up at all for this entire season until this episode. The in-universe reason is because he was at school the entire time, the writing reason being because of too many characters. Despite this, Irep shows up more often than his own counterpart.

Irep states the reason he came over is because "his parents left without leaving him a forwarding address again."

Again? What does he mean by again? He's literally been living in Anti-Cosmo's Castle the entire time. These screenshots are from the exact same season. And there has been nothing to imply that Anti Wanda and Anti Cosmo even moved out of the castle in the first place. The castle in literally still in Anti-Cosmo's name. Even after they stopped appearing, Irep's mentions of them implied that they all still lived in Anti-Cosmo's Castle. How else would Irep be getting his lunches packed by his mother, how else would Irep have gotten in trouble for putting spiders in his father's pasghetti?

Anti Wanda attached herself to her son as soon as he was born and called him "Sweetie." (Anti Poof) Anti Cosmo literally cried over not being able to have a godchild. (The Fairly Oddlympics) I don't think they would purposely do that.

If Irep never mentioned his parents outside of Anti Poof, then I guess that could be a way to explain their absence? But it just doesn't make sense. He kept bringing them up. His parents were in his life. Like I'd even take the explanation of 'Anti Cosmo and Anti Wanda had an offscreen 3 season side plot where they get hunted down' or something crazy like that. What happened???

[cerise-on-top]

König as a Father to a Son

I saw people characterizing König as someone mean and cruel again. Do people honestly think he would only care about his daughter and not his son? Some people make me really sick. Anyway, here's König as a father to a son, who he loves and adores and would fight the world for because he's a good father <3

I can see him being close to tears the first time he holds you. It doesn’t matter to him whether you’re related by blood or if you’ve been adopted, you’re just so small and helpless. You’re so tiny, he could easily crush you and just kill you. He’s well aware that he shouldn’t be thinking anything like this about you, but he can’t help it, you’re just so incredibly precious to him. He knows that you’ll grow up into a fine young man, and he’ll do whatever he can to ensure that you’ll be happy in your life. Although his partner would want to hold you as well, I feel as though he’d have such a hard time letting go of you, his paternal instincts kicking into overdrive. He’d smile so much, putting his forehead against yours and just cooing at you. You’d make him the happiest man in the world and he wants to be a good father for you.

However, he wouldn’t be all that present in your life. He’s a good and competent soldier, who works at a PMC, so he will be sent on many missions. However, the thought of making it back home, just to see you grow up, keeps him going. Even if he’s been shot, he’ll think about you, about how bad he wants to see you, about how he wants to be present in your life, and he’ll carry on. Even when he should have died, his determination kept him going. He’ll become an even more efficient soldier on the battlefield once he’s had you. Nothing and no one can keep you from him.

When he is present? He’ll try to spend as much time with you as possible, trying to make up for the lost time. He’ll go take walks with you, he’ll cuddle you in bed as you’re both drifting off to sleep, he’ll buy you whatever you want. He has the monetary means to do so, so why wouldn’t he spoil you? Lots of hugs from your father, he’s really just trying to bond with you. Yes, many people might see him as a monster, but he can be truly kind hearted with the people he cares about. He’ll play with you, he’ll let you sleep with him in his bed, hell, he’ll even let you use him as a tree to climb whenever you so please. He’s really not so bad as a father. If you really want to, he’ll even play fight with you, always losing and pretending to be hurt to show you just how strong you are.

Even as you grow older, he’ll try to be with you as often as he can. Always calling you, sending you text messages and such. He just really wants to be part of your development. And if anyone ever gives you trouble at school? Well, normally he’s not very confrontational outside of his work, but when it’s about you he would not hesitate to demolish another child either. He will threaten those children until they start crying and leave you alone. Even if you might not want him to, he will find out who those little brats are and make them leave you alone. He remembers how horrible it is to be bullied at school and the last thing he wants is for you to go through the same thing. He will not tolerate you feeling bad about something that you can’t control or that isn’t your fault. Papa König always has your back.

That being said, he’s probably not as strict as many would think. Sure, he’s a military man who has killed more people than most of us ever even got to know, but he does want you to live your life too. Sure, he’ll teach you how to defend yourself. It’s one way of him bonding with you as well. You’ll become a strong young man, but you better not use your fighting skills for evil. You should be protecting the weak with them. If he ever finds out about you abusing your fighting skills he will get genuinely mad at you and scold you. But I think in that case it should be justified. No, he’ll have you grow into a fine young man, who will protect those who can’t protect themselves. You’ll be a kind and compassionate man under his care. Even so, you’re not forbidden from going out with your friends to drink here and there. He did too when he was younger, his parents never minded. Drinking is a huge part of Austrian culture, so he’ll even buy the booze for you and your friends. Nothing too strong just yet, but you can count on him. Will also go grab some fast food for you and your friends as well. All in moderation, though. He doesn’t want you to drink too much either. But he would sit down with you from time to time just to drink a beer or two with you.

He’ll also try to give you the feeling that you could always come to him if you ever need support. He’s a lot older than you, he has a lot more experience under his belt than you do, so he will always do what he can to help you out. Especially if you have a mental illness. He has social anxiety, so it’s not like he doesn’t get it. Doesn’t matter if you have a personality disorder, schizophrenia, or something else. He’ll do his research and try to help you however he can. He won’t judge you for taking medication and he won’t judge you for needing help either. Just because you’re a boy doesn’t mean you should have to bottle everything up until you reach your breaking point. If you ever need help, you can always come to him. Regardless of whether you want to vent, want some advice, or just want to cry into his shoulder. His parents always did the same for him, so naturally he’ll do the same for you too. He won’t judge you, he won’t yell at you, and he won’t scold you. He won’t ever neglect you just for feeling the way you do. Quite the opposite, he’s glad when you do come to him, it makes him feel as though you trust him and that he didn’t fail as a father. You’re his son, so of course he’s going to do whatever he can to make sure you can smile and be happy.

König doesn’t mind you being queer either. Why would he? He’s not straight himself either, so he’s one of the last people to judge you about it. Will give you a pat on the back and thank you for being honest with him and trusting him enough with this kind of information. If you want to go to Pride, he’ll join you. While I don’t think he’ll be happy per se to be surrounded by this many people, he’ll do it for you so you can celebrate who you are.

Another big thing for him would be that he’d teach you German. Both High German and his dialect. It’s very important to him. I think he would get a little more strict with you if you were to only speak High German. His dialect is a big part of his culture, which is slowly dying out and being replaced with High German, which is a huge shame to him. He wants you to speak his dialect and will correct you if you speak too much High German. Sure, he’ll always know more words in his dialect than you since he’s of a different generation, but you will be speaking his dialect for the most part. This is only if you’ve been adopted, though. If you’re related by blood then he’ll naturally teach you his dialect.

Overall he’s a pretty loving father. He’d fight just about anyone for you and make sure you’re doing well, no matter what. He’s just happy to have a son like you, he loves you so much.