#i’ll get to them all eventually i am just… so tired all the time

[zmwrites]

some of these new tag games take so much effort…. i don’t have the energy to find specific words in my wips using the search function, how am i supposed to pick seven to ten random lines or remember which scenes fit which vibes??? i love y’all’s enthusiasm but have pity for us elderly folks with no energy 😭

[whimsyprinx]

I think the worst part of it all so that I didn’t decide to like feel unlovable, i didn’t like get a say I’m feeling this way and no matter how hard I try it what other people say the feeling of being unloved persists

[hatefulbutterfly]

the day people i just met dont ask me to make them an avatar is the day i will be regular

[coldfanbou]

The First One is On The House

Ningning fic once again a challenge given by @i-am-lifeform24

Length 2K

Ningning X Mreader

“Hello? Yes, I can fit her into my schedule. I should have an opening at 7. Later? I guess I could take her in after the show. Alright, I look forward to her visit.” You put the phone back on the receiver and walked back to the table; you were so looking forward to going home early for the evening when you got a call from that customer. You would've preferred taking the appointment for another day, but you wanted to keep your weekend free. You sit back in your office chair and stare at the ceiling before gazing at the clock hanging on the wall. Three hours, that’s how long you’d have to wait for your guest to arrive. 

Getting bored, you pulled out your phone and checked social media, seeing posts from stars from earlier in the day as they walked the red carpet for some fashion event nearby. You see a few of your usual clientele post pictures, liking them before moving on. Eventually, you get tired of that and begin some repetitive tasks, trying to seem busy as you wait for the client to arrive despite them arriving a couple of hours from now. 

Soon enough, you went back to looking at your phone, checking out photos from the event, and seeing the different kinds of people that went. You stopped on a picture of Ningning from the group Aespa when you heard the door open. It was your friend, a manager for various groups. “Sorry for getting here late. She just felt so tired during the show, and we thought it best to call you.”

“Just who is it? That they needed a massage so desperately? I could’ve had a nice evening for myself.”  

Your friend stands aside, letting his gues walk forward. “I’m sorry for making you stay late.” You recognize the woman as she bows her head; it’s Ningning. She was still in the same clothes you had seen in the picture a moment ago, a revealing short black dress that clung to her body.

You wave her off as you refocus. “It’s fine. Just prepare for the massage. I’m going to talk to your manager a bit.” You point the small woman toward a changing room and look back toward your friend. 

You see him heading out the door before you can say anything. “I’m going to get some food. I’ll be back in an hour.” 

“Hey!” The door shuts, and you’re left alone again. You head toward the window and watch him walk toward a nearby restaurant, shaking your head. “I’m gonna talk that guy's head off when he comes back.”

A small voice catches your attention, “I’m ready.” You turn back around to see Ningning covering herself with the towel provided. “Where did my manager go?”

“He went to go eat across the street. Anyway, please follow me.” You lead Ningning into one of the massage rooms and have her lie face down on the table. “I hope the clothing in there wasn’t too tight. I’m going to move the towel down now.” Ningning nods her head.

You move it down slowly, revealing the tan bra that was provided to all female guests who would rather not be naked. It was thick and padded, meant to be comfortable. Your eyes move down her back, noting her flawless skin. You lather your hands in an unscented oil, rubbing it in between your fingers before placing your hands on her lower back. You apply slight pressure on her back, dragging your thumbs away from the center of her body. “Did you have a good time at the fashion show?” 

“It was alright, but the chairs were so uncomfortable. My body started to ache from sitting in them.” 

“I see. Is there anywhere that aches specifically?” 

“I mean, my butt hurts,” Ningning says with a laugh. You just nod along, creating an awkward atmosphere. You kick yourself for not laughing at her joke. Continuing the massage, you move your way up her back, reaching her shoulder. You could feel the tension in them and increase your strength as you began to massage all the knots out. Ningning groans as she feels your hands dig into her shoulders and release the tension in them. “Ooh, that feels so good.” You focus your efforts on Ningning shoulders, and once they relax, you take a step back. 

“I’ll be moving down now.”

“That’s fine,” Ningning moans as she places her head on top of her hands. You move the towel up slightly, keeping her ass covered as you begin to work on her thighs. As you ran your hands across them, you could feel the toned muscles underneath. Working on the one nearest to you, you give her thigh a strong squeeze.

Feeling your hands move across her thighs, Ningning feels her body getting warmer. She used her hands to cover her mouth, struggling to keep her groans from filling the room. Your hands felt good; Ningning could feel a growing wetness between her legs as your finger brushed against the inside of her thigh. Her cheeks begin to turn red as you switch to the other side, starting the process over again. When you accidentally squeeze her thigh a bit too hard, Ningning couldn’t hide her moan—letting the long, smooth sound of her voice fill the room before catching herself. She buries her head in her hands, too embarrassed to look anywhere in the room. You try to ignore it and continue on.

Needing Ningning to turn onto her back, you finally speak up, “Ningning, I finished with your backside; I need you to turn over.”

“O-okay,” She turns herself over slowly, glancing your way. You began to massage her arms, and as you got to her shoulders, you noticed Ningning continually glancing at you.  Nearing her chest, Ningning groaned again. She rubbed her legs together, growing more aroused as your hands glided along her body. Moving down to her legs, you noticed the wet spot between Ningning’s legs, and she knew it too.

You tried to ignore it, but Ningning continued to rub her legs together as you tried to massage her. “I…I’m sorry.”

“There’s no need to be sorry. We’ll just stop here.”

Ningning grabs your hand. “Wait!” She let go briefly before grabbing your hand again. “I-is there any other services you offer?” You understand what she means. Ningning’s voice grew smaller as she went on. “I mean, I see in videos that sometimes masseurs offer special services. Is that an option here?” You were about to reply when Ningning placed your hand on her breast. I can pay you. I-my body just feels really good when you touch it.”

You had to admit that Ningning was a beautiful woman that you’d be lucky to have sex with, and you considered your options. You look at the clock on the wall; half an hour has passed. Knowing your friend, he’d likely be going for seconds right about now and want to take his time getting back. “Alright.” Ningning gives you a soft smile and lets go of your hand. You place it over her slit, the briefs she was wearing keeping your away. Still, it was enough to make her groan. Like the bra provided, the briefs were meant to keep customers more comfortable. Ningning stares at you with lustful eyes as she squirms on the table.  You snake your hand under the briefs and drench your fingers in her nectar as you slide your hands along her slit. Feeling your fingers touch her sends Ningning over the edge; you watch her toes curls and eyes shut as she cums at that moment. “I’m sorry. It’s my first time,” She mumbles.

“I…figured.” You reply as you begin pulling down the briefs. Ningning covered her face, her shyness taking over. You turn her body towards you before dropping your pants. Ningning’s eyes become glued to your growing bulge. “It’s not polite to stare.”

“It just looks so big.” Her comment makes you chuckle. You pull down your underwear, revealing your cock to the young woman. She reaches toward it without uttering a word; you feel her soft hand wrap around the tip. “It’s so warm…”

“So you’ve used toys?”

“...yes,” She says shamefully. 

“It’s natural, Ningning. No need to be ashamed, but let’s see how the real thing compares.” You tell her as you take a step forward and rub the tip of your cock against her slit. Ningning whimpers and stares at your cock as it runs along her cunt. You lean in, kissing her neck softly as you push your head against her cunt. She wraps her arms around you, holding you closely as she begins to fill the room with her moans. You feel her walls squeezing your cock as you push inside of her. 

“Ahh, hold on,” Ningning moans, her hands gripping your shirt. You stop moving, giving her time to adjust. You pepper her with kisses as you wait, softly squeezing her body. “You can move now.”

You push more of your cock into Ningning, watching her expression carefully. You see her shut her eyes and moan as you bury yourself inside her. Her walls are tightly wrapped around your cock, rubbing against the head. You begin thrusting slowly, holding onto her hips to keep her in place. Each thrust brings out more moans from Ningning.

The small woman holds you tightly, wrapping her legs around you as you thrust deeply into her. You could feel Ningning’s walls tighten around your cock, as she neared another climax. “I’m cumming again,” She whimpered. “I’m going to cum.”

You speed up your thrusts, making her cry out from pleasure. You feel her thighs squeeze your sides as she cums. You continue thrusting into Ningning, making her let out a high-pitched whine. Each one was driving her crazy as you overstimulate her. You force your tongue into her mouth as her eyes roll into the back of her head. 

Ningning’s arms lose strength. Falling onto her back, Ningning lets out weak moans. You revel in the feeling of her walls clamping down on your cock. When you feel your orgasm coming, you begin to slow down. You pull out entirely and turn Ningning onto her stomach. You press your cock against her cunt, holding onto her waist with one hand. You ram the length of your cock back inside the petite woman, slipping in with ease. As you drive your cock in and out of Ningning, you watch her ass bounce as it slaps against your body. “You’re so tight, Ningning. I’m getting pretty close to cumming.”

“Cum…” Ningning mumbles as her head bobs with every thrust. You feel yourself getting closer. Your hands dig into Ningning’s flesh. 

“Where do you want it?” You ask as you ram your cock deep into her cunt. Ningning doesn’t respond to the question, only repeating the word cum. You make the quick decision to pull out, knowing it would only cause trouble if she got pregnant. You pull out at the last moment, painting her back as you spurt cum onto her. Ningning feels the warm cum hit her back, groaning as her mind slowly returns to her. 

You check the clock; your friend should be back in a few minutes. You grab a few towels and wipe the cum off Ningning's back. “Your manager is going to be coming back soon. You better get changed.” 

“Manager?” Ningning slowly blinks as she realizes. He’ll be coming back soon. She struggles to stand up, and you’re forced to help her get into the changing room while you clean up. You wait by the entrance for her manager to show up, and soon enough, he appears. 

“I’m back.” He says with a burp. “Where’s Ningning?”

“You really didn’t hold back on eating, did ya? Did you get me anything?”

“Uh, no, sorry.” Ningning steps out of the changing room looking like she did when she first stepped foot inside, the only difference being her slightly frazzled hair. “Oh, there you are.”

“Sorry for the wait. I struggled with the heels.” 

“That’s okay. Let’s get you back to the dorms. Thanks for dealing with her.” Ningning nods her head and follows her manager out the door, picking up a business card before giving you a wink and leaving.

[izaytiji]

ROBLOX N CHILL?! 🎮 ; BAKUGOU KATSUKI

bakugou katsuki x reader

summary: you’ve convinced bakugou to play roblox with you during your sleep over.

authors note: i haven’t proofread it and it’s more of a blurb than a fic (i wrote this when i was obsessed with roblox) also my auto caps are off and im too lazy to turn them on

“what the fuck! i lost!?” katsuki screamed at his phone seeing that he only got voted 7 stars for that round while you got first place. “kats’ try to be on theme next time.” he side eyed you before huffing as the next round was about to start. yes you somehow convinced the katsuki bakugou to play dress to impress with you, although it only took a couple of huffing and puffing from him until he agreed. the next theme was “coquette” which katsuki had no idea what it meant.

“the hell is coquette? like a chef?” you giggled and explained to him before the time ran out and he had no outfit on.

“no kats’, that’s a cook. coquette is cute pink stuff with like bows.” he thought for a moment before grunting and roaming around the game to make an outfit. you and bakugou split ways that round to make your outfits which meant you had no idea how his outfit turned out until it was time to present them. you forced bakugou to give you 5 stars when it was your turn up. at first he kept yelling “HELL NO!” or “AS IF, YOU DONT DESERVE IT.” but eventually your puppy dog eyes worked on him and he gave in. finally it was his turn up and you had to force yourself not to laugh at his totally off theme outfit. he was a flamingo with a tie on.

“kats’s this is not what i meant by pink and bow.” bakugou side eyed you with the most offended look ever. “whatever fucking ever you said pink and a flamingo is pink, bows are the same thing as ties.” he tried justifying his outfit which caused you to crack and let out a laugh.

“I DON’T WANNA PLAY ‘TIS STUPID GAME ANYMORE.” he left the game and huffed with an agitated look on his face as you kept on laughing straight at his face. “shut the hell up roblox nerd.”

you gasped offended and clutched your shirt jokingly. “well excuse me, i am not a roblox nerd”

bakugou rolled his eyes and grunted. “as if, you have matching avatars and these shirts are stupid.” you pinched his bicep and furrowed your eyebrows. “they’re not! i think it’s funny and cute” all you got as a response is his mean side eye.

“whatever, pick a different game already.” you thought for a moment as you readjusted your position on the bed to get more comfortable. “how about the mimic?” you swore you saw sweat form on bakugou’s forehead but ignored it as it was fairly hot in your dorm room so it could just be because of that.

“fine, hurry up and join it.” he grumbled before clicking ‘join game’

you two played together which of course you mad bakugou always go first. your screams would scare him and he’d end up also slightly screaming out of shock.

“it’s just a roblox game, big baby, gonna blow my ears up.” he said while fully focused on the game, trying to figure out the puzzle.

“boy please, your quirk is louder than my screams you’ll be fine.” you rolled your eyes and ended up leaving the game due to the fact that the puzzle was causing a headache for both you and bakugou.

“tch. whatever, hate this stupid game.” he threw his phone on the pillow before crashing down on his back. you looked down at him as you were perched up on your elbow.

“you say that everytime you get defeated.” you pinch his nose and laughed. bakugou raised his eyebrows and scrunched his face.

“whatever, big baby.” he pulled you in, making you lay right ontop of him. “i’m tired, goodnight. don’t move too much or else i’ll wake up.”

just like that he was out like a light. you groaned seeing the clock’s reflection on your bedside table.

“but it’s only 8 pm…”

[shanastoryteller]

Happy birthday!!!! More FMA!

He’s fucking tired.

In Xerxes, he’s Van Edris. In Xerxes, he’s the son of a former slave, having narrowly escaped being born into his father’s fate by virtue of him being awarded freedom by the time of his birth. In Xerxes, he’s an uncommon commodity, an alchemist with a skill that hasn’t been seen since his father fucked off to who knows where.

In Amestris, he’s Edward Elric. In Amestris, he’s the son of Trisha Elric who was born free and died free because while there are lots of different forms of freedom, in Amestris there’s one that everyone shares. In Amestris, he’s unknown and unremarkable and no one gives a fuck about what he does.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says flatly.

This is what he gets for visiting his father’s country. It’s just fucking unfortunate that the really good alchemical texts are here.

He should have let Al (Van Altun, as they know him, even though the two of them having been using their Amestrian names almost their whole lives, regardless of what country they were in) do it. They’re not nearly as weird about him.

Pakor is alright, as far as kings go. He’s freed a lot of people, is poking at the laws of ownership that has governed his country for centuries to see if he can do anything about them without getting beheaded for it. He’s also known Ed since he was a barely able to walk, back when his father still made court appearances and brought the family along with him. Former slave against most talented alchemist in the country, and people tended to politely ignore the former. Hell, Ed’s been counting on the same thing since he was twelve.

Of course, now it’s coming back to bite him. People say he’s a genius, but if he was really smart he would have stayed far, far away from court. Like in Amestris, perhaps.

“You’re fluent in both languages,” Pakor says, coaxing.

“So are you,” he says accusingly. “We’re speaking Amestrian right now!”

Pakor sighs and switches to Xerxian. “You also speak Xingese and Drachman. You’re a difficult man to keep secrets from.”

“I’m also Amestrian!” he shouts. “And free, might I add! You can’t sell me off to slavery just to get some intel!”

“It’s not like we’ll brand you,” he says, affronted, and Ed is reminded that alright for a king is still pretty shitty. “We just need someone to do a little – double checking. To ensure the situation in Amestris is as it’s advertised.”

“You want to gift me to the Fuhrer to spy on him and you’re, what, just hoping he doesn’t notice that I understand everything and know everything and am, oh yeah, one of his citizens? I’ve been to Central before! With my luck, I’ll get recognized the first day here and then run out of Amestris! And, again, Amestris doesn’t have slaves! The leader of the country really can’t have one.”

Pakor sighs. “You’re very dramatic, Edris. It won’t be so bad. Here, I’ll say you’re my personal slave and that you’re on loan. It’ll be for cultural exchange purposes. He speaks Xingese, so you can communicate in that language without letting on you know Amestrian.”

Ed pinches the bridge of his nose. “This is a stupid fucking idea.”

“If you do this,” Pakor says, “I’ll give you the key to the royal library.”

Ed slowly lowers his hand, eyes narrowing. “I’ve been asking you to let me in there for years.”

“I figured I’d need to bargain it away eventually,” he says. “I was hoping you’d marry one of my daughters for it.” Having even light court obligations is bad enough, he’s in no way stupid enough to marry in. “You’re very difficult, you know. I’m your king. I shouldn’t have to bargain with you.”

“Tough shit,” Ed says, because Pakor may have known him for nearly twenty years, but that knowing goes both ways. Besides, he can’t piss him off because then he and Al will stop reparing all their shit bridges and infrastructure. “Fine. But if I lose my Amestrian citizenship over this, I’m going to be pissed.”

“Noted,” Pakor says brightly.

Uhg.

It doesn’t help that everything he’s heard about Fuhrer Mustang makes the man sound insufferable.

[xoxoladyaz]

locked in lowercase (inside a vault)

For @steddie-week Day 3: Longing (1,032 words)

Tags: Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Light Angst, Hopeful Ending

“Eddie, man. I think you should talk to him.”

Eddie snorts. “Oh, really? What’s with the sudden change of heart, Emerson? That desperate to knock me down a peg?”

“Dude,” Gareth sighs, and the defenses he’d so easily garnered up fall just a little. “Look, I know I wasn’t all that thrilled about Harrington in the first place – ”

“Oh, that’s the understatement of the fucking century, Gare-bear - ”

“ – but,” Gareth ignores Eddie’s attempts at cutting him off, “that was before I saw how miserable you are without him. Like, dude. We made it. We’re on tour right now, and all you wanna do when we’re not on stage is sit on the bus and play Patsy Cline. You,” Gareth taps Eddie on the chest, “you should be having the time of your fucking life right now, but it’s like you’re not really here with us, man.”

Eddie lets Gareth’s words sink in for a moment. The kid’s not wrong, of course, but he doesn’t get it. He can’t. Eddie barely has the words to describe how the feelings started or what his feelings even are, but any time he bumps into anyone that has that look in their eye, that whole I wanna take an up-and-coming rock star for a ride shine, Eddie turns tail and practically runs the other way. It’s not to say that he hasn’t tried – oh, he tried, especially in those first few cities after first leaving Indiana – but it either didn’t happen or it didn’t end well for either party and eventually he just stopped trying. 

Because none of them were Steve. 

And the worst part is, it’s fucking hopeless. The King never, ever gave Eddie even the slightest inclination that it wasn’t just “babes” for him. (Although, to be fair to Steve, Eddie himself didn’t really know until he was too far away to do anything about it, and that’s assuming Eddie’s balls got big enough to even fucking try something.) Steve was kind to Eddie, sure; hell, he was even calling Harrington his best friend at the end, before they left for tour. But then Eddie started wanting and, even worse, started knowing that he wanted any eyes that looked at him in pleasure to be big and brown and belong to Steve and – well, he hasn’t been playing on this side of the field for long, but even a newbie like him knows just how this is going to play out. 

(Which translates to: he slowly stops calling Steve until he isn’t calling him at all. He takes “Head Over Heels” off the set list. He puts the swim team sweater he stole from Steve’s closet at the bottom of the “extra clothes” pile in the back of the bus. And instead of going out after every show, instead of trying and failing to find some peace in the bottom of a bottle like his dad, he sits in the tour bus and plays Patsy Cline on his acoustic under his fingers bleed.)

“It’ll only make things worse, Gare,” Eddie replies, fishing aimlessly in his pockets for the last of his Camels. “I’ll get over it. Eventually.”

“Yeah, well, maybe you will, but he won’t.”

Eddie’s fingers still in his pocket. “What did you just say?”

“You heard me. You don’t think Robin chews my head off every time I call to check in?”

(It’s just Eddie’s luck, of course, that Gareth’s first-cousin-and-childhood-best-friend happens to be Steve’s other half.)

“Then why don’t you stop calling?” Eddie finally finds a cig and pulls it out of his pocket, only for it to get snatched out of his fingers.

“Because I’m not an asshole, asshole,” Gareth snaps. “And I’m getting really sick and tired of getting yelled at every time I call home because somebody refuses to man up and deal with his feelings.”

Eddie turns in place, glaring at Gareth. “I am dealing with my feelings!”

“By not dealing with them, dumbass! And for the record, you’re making it even more noticeable by notdealing with them! Hell, even Byers asked me about it the last time he called, because why else would you just drop Harrington all together? It’s been like a year, man, you have to deal with this at some point.”

“I – I didn’t know until a month and a half ago, Gareth, what the hell do you mean by the last year?”

Gareth snorts. “Seriously? Seriously. Holy shit, you’re serious. Fucking – really, man? Now I owe Jeff money.”

“GARETH!” Eddie snaps. “What do you mean, the last year?”

Something is on Eddie’s face, some expression that he can’t control, because Gareth’s eyes soften and grow sad. “Eds, man, you wear your heart on your fuckin’ sleeve and your feelings all over your face. All anyone gotta do is see you look at Steve and know.”

“Know? Know what?”

Gareth’s voice is almost a whisper now. “Do I really need to say it?”

The wounded beast in Eddie’s chest shudders. “No.” He pulls his eyes away from Gareth, refocuses on the rings on his hands – and more specifically, the ring made from an antique spoon that Steve had made him when they were going through his parents’ shit.

(It was the only piece of Steve he couldn’t bear to hide away these last six weeks.)

“Does – does he?”

(Eddie can’t finish the question; hell, Eddie doesn’t even know what he’s asking.

Thankfully, somehow Gareth does.)

“Go call him, Eds,” Gareth says. He squeezes Eddie’s shoulder, a benediction for courage, and then leaves the tour bus, leaving Eddie alone and staring at the phone at the end of the bus.

(Maybe there’s a world where Steve feels, can feel, has felt the same. Maybe there’s a world where, when he told Eddie that he’s taking a break from dating that it meant taking a break from dating someone who wasn’t Eddie. Maybe Steve’s been trying and failing to get past this too, and is spending his nights by the phone like Eddie, waiting for someone to call.)

The phone only rings twice.

“This is Steve.”

(And maybe that world is this one.

But he won’t know until he tries.)

“Hey, Stevie. Got a minute?”

[sparkrls]

simple questions

MASTERLIST

Summary: in which Harry is eager to makes his girl happy and she just wants answers to simple questions

Author’s Note: a blurb i wrote based on these Harry pics because I am NOT over it

Word Count: 2.6k words

•••

Her boyfriend was an idiot. That’s what Y/N resolved as she watched him stumble over his words as he was asked a simple question of, “Who’s the girl you’re with?”. It wasn’t even anyone important asking, just a fan who’d noticed Harry and felt brave enough to ask for a photo, albeit with hands that shook as she passed over her phone.

It had started as Y/N’s idea. She knew she was entirely at fault for Harry’s nerves, but it wasn’t even completely her idea. She had just asked him, “Have you ever had a public outing with a partner?”

It was an innocent question, asked due to pure curiosity, not with any ulterior motive as Harry suspected. He had given her a look, trying to get a read on her intent behind those words. He tended to do that a lot. Doubt people’s words, like they had some double meaning, and they were trying to trick him into making a fool of himself. She had a tough time getting him to trust her enough as to not doubt her as much, but the trust issues slipped through every once in a while.

Harry then stumbled over his words, the way a newborn doe might trip and fall as it clambered onto its frail legs. Simple questions were never his forte. He could answer you deep, philosophical questions and ponder them in his mind without hesitation, but it was the simple questions that tripped him up. A whole conundrum, if you asked Y/N.

Eventually, Harry admitted, “No.”

She’d stared at him with a deadpan expression, because it had taken an extraordinary amount of ‘um’s and ‘uh’, along with some weird humming sounds to get a one-word answer from him.

So she followed up with, “Don’t you wanna?”

“Do you want me to do it with you?”

“Well, no, I was just asking because-“

“I’ll do it with you,” Harry rushed to say.

Sometimes he tended to rush himself into doing favors for people he didn’t really want to do. A tendency lots of overly kind people had. And he’d always have this particular warm, soft tone when he did. And she loved that little tone that indicated he was feeling kind. But lots of times he regretted agreeing to those things and would stumble home to her apartment, grumbling and griping about whatever stupidity he’d been forced to do. So it grew into a strange mixture of adoration and disdain for that tone. Because she never liked to see her boy tired to the bone because he was too polite to back away from a promise. (Although she did love running her fingers through his soft hair until he fell asleep with his head on her lap)

This time, however, Harry wasn’t using that warm tone. It was a much different one, a bit of a higher pitch, and with a much sweeter undertone. It was a tone he used when he was trying to win the favor of his girlfriend.

She chuckled, “Baby, I didn’t ask you to-“

Harry had one arm rested on her waist and the other underneath the pillow she rested her head on. “But I wanna,” He said with a small pout, an almost whiny quality to his words. His cherry lips looked so kissable when they stuck out that way. “Wanna show the world you’re mine.” He leaned up until his nose was nuzzling her neck, and his lips brushed against her collarbone. “Mine and only mine.”

His lips clamped down on her skin, sucking at it for a moment before allowing his teeth to nibble lightly. Sharp stings followed wherever his teeth sunk in so deliciously, sending sparks throughout her whole body.

Y/N had learned early on that Harry had a very possessive side to him. He’d spent years feeling that everything he was belonged to the public, including all the dirty details of his personal life and his friends and partners. And now he had regained that privacy (he’d had to pry it by force from the unfailing grip of the media), he wanted to claim everything as his own.

It was why Harry was so fiercely protective of his friends and loyal to a fault. He felt the incessant urge to always stick by their side. He finally knew what it was like to have something belong to him, and it was his greatest fear to lose it.

After a lot of therapy, communication and compromise, Harry had not only found a healthy balance for himself but for his relationship with Y/N as well. A certain possessiveness that she wouldn’t deny him because she could never refuse anything he asked, and it was just part of who he was. But a harsh line as to not become controlling or overprotective as Harry had threatened to do in previous relationships.

The habits snuck into their daily lives, as Harry had a tendency to leave marks where everyone could see them. Therefore, the hickeys on the neck which Y/N always had to cover with concealer because she despised turtlenecks with a passion.

“Love, I’m not doubting your choice,” she began to speak, interrupted by Harry leaving open-mouthed kisses from her jugular up to the base of her jaw. And it was getting hard to think straight when his lips were on her and his tongue was tracing delightful patterns.

Y/N cleared her throat trying to focus. “However, I don’t want this to be an impulse decision. Think it through.”

Harry separated his lips from her skin long enough to murmur, “I’m sure. I wanted to make it public to everyone soon anyways, might as well go out together.” As he spoke, his warm breath grazed against her sensitive skin, causing goosebumps.

“Go out where?”

“The Man U match, obviously.”

And that was why Y/N spent the next week fussing over her choice of hairstyle, whether to leave her natural waves or straighten it or straighten it and then create strategically messy waves. And then freaking out on the phone to her best friend about whether her outfit was a good choice or not. Because of course, she had to look stylish for her first public appearance with Harry- those photos would be circulating the internet until the day she died- but she also had to dress for the unforgiving winter and plan for rain. Even if she was going to be in the VIP suite with Harry, the entrance and exit could possibly have rain, and she couldn’t always count on an umbrella. She’d learned that the five times she’d gotten stuck in the rain while waiting at a too-full bus stop in peak traffic in London.

The point was, Y/N didn’t want to let down Harry nor the fans by wearing the wrong hairstyle, clothes or makeup. Resulting in overthinking every tiny detail down to the jewelry.

The morning of, it was Harry who soothed her nerves saying, “Love, if you don’t want to do it we don’t have to. It was always a choice.”

“I want to, but it’s just…” She looked up at him with a shaky breath. “It’s scary.”

“We can wait,” Harry replied, placing her face in his hands, his thumb caressing her cheek. “We’ll stay home and watch the game on the telly, we’ll wear our sweats and I’ll order in some food from that Thai place you’ve been wanting to try.”

Taking a good look at Harry from top to bottom, from those dress pants that clung to his thighs in the most delightful manner, and the button-up that tragically hid his well-sculpted biceps to the sweater vest he’d bought the first time they’d gone shopping together. He looked so soft and warm, yet so confident and sure of himself. Like a scale that had finally found balance.

Harry had an energy that screamed youthful, but he’d recently settled into the warm feeling of peace that came not with age, but the realization that chaos wasn’t necessary to be happy. He wasn’t afraid of his career always being on the chopping block, or the precarious opinions of outsiders. He had found himself, and with it, found an inner peace he’d never had before.

And it showed. From the way he dressed, to the courage of him showing up to their hotel room with the surprise of a shaved head one day, to the way he carried himself so firmly. He was centered. He was calm. And he was happy.

This was the first time everyone else would get to see Harry after the latest stage of his self-discovery. And Y/N wouldn’t be the one to hold him back. “No, I want to go,” she said firmly. “But I want you to pick my outfit.”

To no one’s surprise, Harry picked an outfit that was primarily made up of clothing from his own closet, completely shoving aside the outfit she had previously picked out for herself because, “Babe, I have better taste than you.”

Y/N didn’t have bad taste, but when it came to fashion, she laid her trust in Harry… most of the time.

The only thing he kept were the jeans she’d picked out, a new pair she’d gotten recently which flattered her figure. They were high waisted and cropped at the ankle, the color a grayish tone of the classic denim. Most importantly, they highlighted her ass. The one thing that no matter how insecure she was, she always loved. And Harry did as well, if the way he swatted her ass playfully a couple of times a day was any indication.

He paired it with a long-sleeve white top that clung to her skin, a green sweater on top that was slightly baggy on her figure as it was one of his and one a black coat that would keep her warm. Harry was careful to make sure all the layers would keep her warm even in the winter air, as he knew she tolerated much less cold than he did.

“Cute,” Harry said with a dimpled smile when she finished putting on the outfit and gave him a twirl to showcase it. “You’re really pretty, darling.” He hooked his fingers through her belt loops and yanked her forward until she almost toppled into his chest as he sat on the edge of his bed. He gave her a soft smile, the kind he gave her right before a heartfelt message- “And ten times prettier because I chose the outfit.”

Y/N swatted his arm playfully at his joke, and he simply laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling up. “It’s a basic outfit.”

“Aw, don’t be mean because the outfit I picked out is better than the one you did.”

“You’re such a bully.”

Harry grinned at her. “Is that so?”

She nodded in mock earnestness. “Yeah. I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” Harry replied simply.

“No, I don’t.”

With a couple of more kisses which included wiping the lipstick from Harry’s lips, the couple got into the car and held hands as the engine started and drove them to the stadium.

“So, we’re cheering for Man U, right?”

Harry sighed heavily. “Love, do you even know me?”

“Okay, okay, I get it,” She said with a chuckle, raising her hands defensively. “Man U for football and Green Bay Packers for the other football.” She gave him an apologetic look. “Sorry baby, but I know nothing about football.”

“I’m going to be explaining all the rules, aren’t I?”

Y/N’s silence was enough of a response.

But then it was time for the most dreaded moment of the day, when they entered the stadium hand-in-hand, walking past press and media and paparazzi.

Harry laced his fingers between hers and gave her a small squeeze before opening the car door and stepping out. He was quick, making her almost jog to catch up with his long strides. He’d warned her he would move hastily as to avoid lingering around the cameras longer than necessary.

There was one quick snap and a small flash and then-

They were inside the stadium and no press could chase them in any longer.

“Wait, that was it?” Y/N asked, glancing at the door they’d just walked through as their pace slowed down.

Harry glanced at her quizzically. “Did you expect more?”

“Well, you always describe it all huge and dramatic, flashing lights and a billion cameras and a huge crowd of screaming lunatics-“

“Football matches are different,” Harry said, chuckling as he interrupted her rant.

“I got worried over that?” Y/N signaled over her shoulder, her jaw dropping. “Seriously?!”

Harry laughed. “What do you expect me to say? You’re an overthinking maniac?”

She huffed, “This is your fault.”

Harry kissed her when her lips pouted. “Love you, darling.”

“Love you too,” She grumbled as they made their way to the VIP suite.

And that’s the full story of how they’d ended up at the Man U match- which they won, thank god, because Harry would’ve teased her relentlessly for being bad luck- and with a fan asking for a photo and asking who Y/N was.

“Um, well- she- we met- me and her-“ Harry couldn’t seem to form a train of thought, so she rolled her eyes and took control of the situation.

Holding out a hand for the fan to shake, Y/N said her name and said, “I’m Harry’s girlfriend. Nice to meet you, babe.”

The fan’s jaw dropped. It was a bit hilarious, but out of sheer politeness, Y/N held back her laughter. “You are definitely hot enough. Cool. Bye.” Turning on her heel, the fan walked away.

Harry seemed in shock as Y/N laughed, turning to him, completely bewildered. “You hear that? I’m ‘hot enough’!”

Without a care in the world of the dozen of cameras probably pointed at them, Harry grasped her face in his hands and gave her a deep, loving kiss.

Y/N scanned his face, a giddy smile on her own, “What was that for?”

“For being my girlfriend,” Harry replied before pulling her back in for another kiss. So maybe she’d allow her boyfriend a celebratory kiss or two or maybe five before they had the decency to move out of sight of the cameras. And just maybe, it wasn’t their last football match together.

Two years later, Y/N and Harry would return to the very same stadium for yet another Man U match, a bit older, a lot more mature and their love stronger after growing roots for so long. The tree flourishing with branches extending to the deeper reaches of her heart, she had never felt so fulfilled. Like the world was so much lighter and easier to endure even with the extra weight of a diamond ring on her finger, and a white gold band identical to the one on Harry’s hand.

“Who’s the girl you’re with?” The fan asked, a 15-year-old girl with her hair dyed blue and a Love On Tour shirt on, her curious eyes scanning Y/N, a flicker of familiarity in them.

Harry smiled, looking his wife up and down, admiring the outfit he’d carefully chosen for her earlier that day. He inhaled deeply, and for once, he didn’t trip over his words as he replied firmly, “This is Y/N. I’m her husband.”

[thesensteawitch]

IF YOU WERE A MUSE TO A POET 🍁💌

~This Is What They Would Tell You!

Pick A Pile Reading

(Left To Right- Pile 1, Pile 2, Pile 3)

Hello, Senstea Souls!💖

I hope you're doing well. Here's a collective reading about what a poet would tell you if you were their muse! ✨

TAKE A DEEP BREATH AND PICK YOUR PILE INTUITIVELY.

In case you would like to BOOK A READING with me then I am sharing the links below for the same.

BOOKING FORM 💌

RATE CARD $$$

You can also DM me in case of any query.🫶🏻

***

Pile 1

You have so many sides to you, and yet you hold space for more. I am directionless. Where should I lead this poem about you? Or where are you leading me? There’s so much to you that I want to express, but I fear I’ll end up looking like a fool. You’re like the universe—mesmerizing, intriguing, and frightening, with layers and layers of mysteries. You are divine to me. Being a poet feels like a boon when I look at you. Only fated souls get to write about someone so infinitely charming. I sense the never-ending wisdom you hold. I’d forever be your devotee if you’d let me drink just one drop of what keeps you glowing like you do. You’re sharp, kind, wild, and a dream that only slips away. Where are you looking? What inspiration do you need? Come on! You walk to your own rhythm, your shadows delightfully dancing to your beat. The sound of your steps tells me stories of places you’ve been and people you’ve met. You hold no regret, no grudge—only lessons. You think, reflect, and cry for being mistreated. But when it’s your turn, you choose to destroy the weapons that bruised you so deeply, instead of hurting others with them. The venom couldn’t kill you but made you wise. Following your footprints, I find the earth swallowing the shed skin of your old self. How can I define you when you’re constantly transforming? Every time I think I have finally known you, I find something new revealed. My hands fall short of holding your grace, my mind loses the words to portray it. As I said, you’re sharp—you’ll never let me read you. You take me to the end only to throw me into a new beginning. It’s not your fault; I understand that’s who you truly are. Sometimes, while falling asleep, I wonder who would be so lucky to fall in love with you? Or who would you fall in love with? But then again, I don’t feel you’re deprived of love, because YOU ARE love. I look at you the way others look at stars. Everyone attempts to count them at least once in their lifetime but eventually gives up, knowing it’s an attempt they will fail. But I am not tired; I am taking a break. I would like to admire you for now, knowing that maybe I too will never fully know you, but I’ll keep exploring who you are, just like scientists cannot give up on SPACE! Ah! See, I cracked something! Your lover must be someone like you—infinitely charming and holding mysteries as vast.

***

Pile 2

You know what? I am mad at you! Because either you attack or you run away. See? You just revolted back. Or perhaps hid in your closet, knowing that someone knows your little secret. You’re that 22° in astrology. Kill or be killed? You’re neither a prey nor do you need to triumph over someone or something else to keep yourself safe. All I am trying to say is that you’re not meant to just survive; you’re meant to thrive. But hey, I do see your heart. The life around it has withered, and you’re surviving on memories. For how long, may I ask? You’re not a coward; you’re afraid. I heard someone say, “The one who is capable of love is capable of being saved.” At this point, all the love is leaking from the corners of your heart. Make the best use of it, or it’ll go to waste. Life isn’t at the extremes; it’s in the middle. That’s where you find your balance. That’s where you will shine bright. I see you singing to yourself, making stories in your heart but never writing them down for the world to taste. You don’t need to say ‘NO’ to something you want. Openly say what you want and to the person who can give it to you. Don’t keep whispering your wishes into the ears of God. He’s even giving you a side-eye now, haha. You’re the leader! If you don’t take the lead, you’ll never have your pack. Do you get it? Why am I even writing about you? It seems to me that you’re an artist too. You know the depths of your pain better than I do. Gosh, you need a hug! Whoever you’ve lost in this physical world doesn’t like to see those tears rolling down your cheeks. Every time you try to make sense of your emotions, you only make your heart heavier. Love keeps dripping and draining into the river of unexpressed emotions. You’re about to be granted a new life, a restart. But this won’t be handed to you until you decide and do what you’re supposed to do. The pain demands to be felt and yada yada yada! We’ve all watched *The Fault in Our Stars*. But come on, there’s an expiry date to feeling it too. I told you, you’re an extreme case. Pain won’t leave you until you leave it. YOU DESERVE THE WORLD. And I know you don’t believe it, but from where I am seeing, all your wishes are about to come true. You’re just ONE decision away. And I am here watching and waiting for you to make that move. Go where your heart is; that’s where you’re supposed to be. Don’t run away from your destiny. Remember, you’re not the same kid who froze at the point of a horrifying sight and couldn’t do anything about it. You’re grown up now. You can HEAL yourself. You’re not hopeless or helpless. You don’t even need to find your potential; it’s just there, waiting for you to see it and accept it.

***

Pile 3

Excuse me, miss/mister? Do you even have time to read what I have to say? You’re too busy figuring things out. Huff! The amount of mental and physical work you do is commendable. Are you waiting for something or someone? I am not surprised to see your spiritual side. What side, huh? You’re SPIRITUAL—IN & OUT! You’re wise, extremely intuitive, and resourceful but haven’t learned how to avoid burnouts. Can something ever be hidden from you? From where I see, it seems you’re new here but not naive. You’ve completed a tough journey filled with passion, rage, excitement, and burnouts (again!). Life has been preparing you for something bigger than your destiny! You’re heavily protected from the forces that don’t want you to be where God is taking you. But we all know who’s more powerful, don’t we? I see you bumping into your past sometimes, but you quickly realize that’s not where you’re supposed to be. The price you would have to pay to return to the same place or people is quite heavy. You don’t feel comfortable in the old stories anymore. You’re grateful but not greedy to go back. I laugh at those who think they can lure you with temptations! Lol! You are ten steps ahead of them. Stay where you are. All this silence around you is a blessing. You’re about to win. You’re meant to win in this lifetime. This is not your first time around. I have seen you somewhere—not here, but in a different lifetime. You’ve lived all those lives to WIN in this one! The smoke of your burned karmas surrounds you. You’ve cleansed! You’re not in the dark; you’re rising from the ashes. I see the wings of a phoenix on your back. YOU’RE THE CREATOR OF YOUR OWN DESTINY. Evidence of your faith and intuition follows you in the forms of birds, butterflies, feathers, and angel numbers. One day, you may share your story, but you know that day is not today. God, you’re mysterious, and all those stories are tattooed on your skin in a language no one can decipher. Your presence is enough for people to turn around, pause, and reflect. You raise the temperature of the room and melt the ice away. People open up to you naturally. Everyone just wants to experience a drop of you. But you’re not easily accessible. Your magic is sacred and can’t be put on sale. You’re magic. The path you’ve walked on shines so bright. That’s how I trace your past life because you leave glitters behind.

[mokulule]

The Number You Have Called Cannot Be Reached (Catnip) - part 10

First| Masterlist

It was near noon. Tim was in civilian dress outside of Jason’s door. He took at deep breath. Worrying did not help. It did not help to think about the fact that Jason had pointed a gun at Bruce last night. That he had looked very close to pulling the trigger.

It wasn’t that Tim hadn’t noticed something was up with Jason. Of course he’d noticed, a blind man would have noticed. But this was Jason, something was regularly up with Jason. And like when wasn’t his relationship with Bruce strained? Basically never? 

But things had been getting better. Jason had stopped crime-lording, left that to his lieutenants, who as long as they followed the rules, operated relatively unmolested in Crime Alley. It worked. He kept apart, but he was on the same comms as them. He helped out if there was trouble. He cared, they all knew he did. Even if things were still hard. 

It was a bit back and forth but generally the relationship between the bats and Red Hood had been getting better - like the overall trend, Tim had a graph. There was a prognosis that Jason may join them for Sunday dinners in a couple of years. So it was not so weird that Jason had been drawing back, Tim had assumed that was just some of the regular fluctuation that happened now and again. 

But this?

Jason pointing a gun at Bruce?

That was more than just a fluctuation! That was something else, and it all lead back to Jason meeting the Ghost about 5 weeks ago. Jason had been odd that night, there had been something uncertain, hesitant, about him. Tim had brushed it off at the time, there could be any manner of reason for Jason to act a bit off, guilt being the obvious one. Jason for all his gruffness did not like accidental violence, his violence had a purpose and was doled out to those he deemed deserving. 

At one point that had been Tim. 

That thought sat heavy in his chest as he took another deep breath. 

Was he the best person to do this? No, probably not. But someone needed to do it. Dick was on a Justice League mission halfway around the world. Cass would probably have been safest, least likely to piss Jason off, but Tim couldn’t outsource this. Tim needed to talk to Jason, to assess him himself. 

Finally, heart steeled, he knocked on the door. 

There was movement inside, footsteps coming to the door. There was a rumble in his pocket. He pulled it out and looked at the text:

You should not be here.

Tim scowled at the door. “I am not leaving. I need to talk to you.”

There was a moment of silence that dragged. Tim would wait out here all day if he had to, he was stubborn like that and Jason knew it, which is why eventually the sound of the locks turning reached him. Tim carefully kept the victory out of his face. 

Jason didn’t meet his gaze as he let him in and locked the door behind him. He didn’t bother to reset the traps. Instead he padded barefoot over to the kitchen counter.

“Coffee?” He asked, voice scratchy.

Tim didn’t respond immediately eyes too busy following the small trail of blood Jason left behind where he stepped. 

“Tim?” His eyes snapped up, meeting Jason’s tired eyes. 

“You know me,” Tim finally responded weakly. Jason looked… sick, was probably the best word. He was pale, the bags under his eyes so dark they looked bruised. His hair was unwashed and there was something about the weariness in his posture that made him look small in his loose t-shirt and sweatpants. 

Something about the image deeply alarmed Tim and he retreated with a, “I’ll just use the bathroom real quick.”

He noticed the crunch under his shoes even before he saw the broken mirror over the sink; that explained why Jason’s feet were bleeding. Fuck. He sank down onto the closed lid of the toilet and put his head in his hands. This was so much worse than he’d thought. Tim could handle anger, not whatever that was.

“Fuck,” he repeated his earlier thought, quietly and emphatically. Then stood, flushed and washed his hands, to keep up appearances - for something to do. Stalling didn’t help.

He walked back out to find Jason sitting at the small kitchen table with two cups of coffee, one of them placed in front of the empty seat across from him.

Tim sat down and picked up the mug with both hands. He sniffed the rich aroma before taking a sip, Jason had great coffee.

“What do you want, Tim?”

Tim looked up and opened his mouth to reply, something, a deflection, but Jason didn’t let him.

“You’re obviously not here for my sake, so cut to the chase.”

Tim’s mouth clapped shut and his lips thinned. Outrage burst in his chest at the implication that he didn’t care. But Jason was right. He wasn’t here to check on Jason for his sake, he was here to assess him. To make sure what happened last night would not happen again. He was there for them, for the mission, not for Jason. 

Jason was right and it stung. 

Well far be it for Tim to further try to delude them both. 

“I need you to stay away from the Ghost.”

“Like Hell!” Jason snarled jumping to his feet, and there was the Jason Tim had expected, and he held the instinctive fear in an iron grip, not letting it reach his face. There was only a tiny tremble as he brought the cup back up to his lips.

Jason paced. Then turned on Tim, eyes with just a hint of the green they didn’t talk about.

“You cannot bench me,” he spat.

“I’m not. I’m asking you, Jason.” Tim carefully set down the cup.

Jason frowned and this was the one chance Tim had to convince him, he had to make it count.

“He disappears as soon as you get within 20 yards of him. I will figure out a way to capture him, but I cannot do that when he keeps disappearing. I need you to hang back.”

Jason was wavering, his hands clenching and unclenching.

“Please.” Finally Jason sighed and the weariness was back, he sat back down heavily. Leaning his head on his hand he spoke quietly, “he needs help, Tim.”

Tim didn’t know what made Jason so certain of that, but Jason didn’t know what Tim suspected either, what the ghost could be building. 

“But first he needs to be stopped.”

There was a long moment of silence...

“I’ll hang back.”

“Thanks.”

-

Taadaa! The misery continues... Things will be coming to a head soon, I don't know if you can feel it? I just have to write a small Danny POV, and then Tim coming up with the plan and then we'll get into it, it's exciting.

If you wanna subscribe to the story you can do so here

Update: next

[star-eyed-angels]

Stray Kids Reaction | NSFW | Being Stray kids' Stress Toy (MAKNAE LINE)

The times you become Skz'z personal stress toy

Word Count: 2.7k

A/N: What?! two updates in one week?!? Who am I?? Sorry for this taking forever, I was STRUGGLING with Maknae line. Like I knew what I wanted to write but the words truly would not come no matter what I tried. But it’s here it’s done and I really hope you enjoy!!

AGAIN THIS IS VAGUELY EDITED SO PLEASE BE KIND🥹

Warnings: free use (literally all of them), sub/dom dynamics, subspace, nicknames, teasing, creampie, orgasm denial, voyeurism, overstimulation, cock-warming, biting, mirror sex, filming, bondage, blow jobs, thigh job, handjobs (It's 4am I'm so tired and definitely missing something, please let me know if something needs to be added)

Read at your own discretion

JISUNG

Han is another part of the insatiable line, another member who wouldn’t pass up on a chance to feel you wrapped around him. Jisung’s favorite thing is cockwarming. It’s like a game, he sits you pretty in his lap and neither of you gets to cum until he finishes his lyrics. To the others they think it’s torture, but to him it’s heaven, he gets to have you sit pretty on his cock and it forces him to finish his lyrics faster. At least that’s what he tells himself. 

He swears it’s only cockwarming, enough to help him focus on finishing his lyrics. 

“Come on baby, just until I finish this part! It’s the last one I’m working on,” he pleads, hands skimming along your sides while you stand between his legs.

Each time you roll your eyes, because as soon as he gets his dick anywhere near you all other thoughts go out the window. 

“You and I both know you won’t be able to wait that long,” you say for what feels like the millionth time. You think you’d know better than to trust his words by now. But with the way he looks up at you with sparkling eyes, how could you ever say no? 

You find yourself sinking onto him, eyes rolling into the back of your head at the way his cock fills you. Jisung lets out a low moan as you settle yourself into his lap, his own eyes fluttering. You rest your head against his shoulder, arms loosely hanging around his neck. 

When you’re settled he’s quick to get to work, mumbling to himself as he peaks over your shoulder to write. You do your best not to think of the cock between your legs. But for as much as you tease Jisung for thinking with his dick, you’re no better. 

Thirty minutes pass before it starts to get to you. You can feel the subtle twitches his body gives whenever your breath tickles his neck. Jisung isn’t faring much better. You clench around him every so often. Your breath hitching with each subtle shift of his hips. Eventually you’re panting into his heck, hips subtly grinding into him. 

“Baby you’re making this harder for me,” he pants, hands resting on your hips to still you.

“Fuck the lyrics. Just fuck me already,” you beg pulling him into a rough kiss. He doesn’t hesitate, planting his feet firmly on the ground as he begins to rock into you like his life depends on it. The force of his thrusts jolt you against the desk, making you scramble to balance yourself before you slide off his lap. 

“Sungie be careful, you’re gonna break it again,” you say through dragged out moans. The computer chair squeaks in protest, springs undoubtedly being put to their limit. You can’t blame them, so are you. Your hands sit behind you to balance yourself against the desk, whining at the way Jisung drills his cock into you. 

“I’ll buy another one, I’ll buy as many as I need to keep fucking you like this,” he rushes out. His hold on you is firm as he fucks you in his lap. The way he’s gripping onto your sides, fingers digging into the flesh because he knows you’ll love the marks it leaves. He drags you over his cock again and again, using you as his personal fleshlight.

“Can’t get enough of this pussy shit, ride me baby, there you go. Fuck take it like it’s yours babe,” he moans out when you sit up suddenly, taking control of your movements. It’s like your body has a mind of its own, your hips slamming down onto him. 

Your thighs burn with every movement, but it feels far too good for you to care. Your hands rest behind his head, one hand gripping the back of his curly hair while your other steadies yourself on the back of his chair. 

“Ji- fuck! Baby please need it, needa cum!” you cry out, thankful for the fact that the entire studio is sound-proof.

“Yeah? I’ll make you cum baby. Come on, cum all over me so I can fill this fucking pussy,” He growls, hand reaching down to pinch at your clit. The feeling sends you head first into your orgasm. You fall against Jisung as you cum, still rocking yourself against him as you feel him shake through his own orgasm. He bites his lip as he cums, still managing to let a few swears slip through. He falls back in the chair as he comes down from his own high.

“Told you you wouldn’t last,” you pant against his shoulder. He huffs out a laugh, jostling you against his chest.

“Lasted longer than last time, that’s a win in my book baby,” he grins, wiggling his eyebrows at you. You only roll your eyes.

FELIX

Lix who makes you insatiable. You’re not quite sure how he does it. But one look from him and you’re teary eyed as you cling to him, begging for him to stay in you. It always starts with a quick text, telling you to meet him wherever he needs. No one bats an eye when you waltz in during practice, lix beckoning you over with a crook of his fingers. When you reach him, he’s pulling you into his lap, your bottoms already tossed to the floor. You’re not surprised when no one reacts at Felix’s moans as he fills you up.

“Sorry angel, just need to cum in you okay?,” he pants, hips already rutting up into you. You can only offer him a small hum, brain going a little foggy with him inside you. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, tucking your face into the side of his neck as you feel the pleasure overtake you. 

“Promise I’ll be quick, angel,” he says, though he knows he’s lying. The thing with Felix is he knows what having his cock does to you. He knows he makes you desperate, mindless even. And he lives for it. The way you turn into a bunny in heat, Hips working desperately against his, though he’s not sure you even realize that you’re moving. Not with the way you stare up at him with a dazed look in your eyes. He can see the way all the thoughts float out of your head, all thoughts except fucking him that is. Hiccuping whimpers accompanying the sound of skin meeting skin.

“Five minutes, Lix,” Minho calls out from the other side of the practice room. You whine at Minho’s words, clenching around Felix, hands clinging onto him impossibly tighter. 

“How do you expect me to not stay in her all day when she’s clenching like that,” he grunts, hands gripping at your soft sides. You keen, your hips dragging along his in teasing circles. 

“Lixie,” you bat your eyelashes at him, mouth in a small pout. 

“Want me to stay in our cunt all day, sweetheart?” He says, hips lifting to meet yours.

“Yes, please Lixie. Please I’ll be good,” you beg, eyes sparkling with tears. How could he not give in to your pleas when you look at him like that?

Felix flips you onto your back, a soft gasp escaping you as he presses your legs to your chest, exposing your fluttering walls to him and everyone else in the room. He knows they’re watching, they always do when they get the chance.

“Greedy fucking girl, you just love being used don’t you?” he rasps, slipping back into you with ease. Felix sets an unrelenting pace, somehow hitting deeper inside you with this angle. 

“Yes! Love it!,” you cry out, face contorting into a blissed out expression. Your hands scrabble to hold onto something, settling on his arms as he holds you in place.

He smirks, glancing up to watch the way the members watch the scene in front of them. He lives for the way the members' eyes darken when they watch you. You’re far too gone to notice the way the members are staring holes into you. 

“You’re so far gone angel, you don’t even care that everyone is watching you, hmm?” he teases, tilting your face to watch the members. You whine, walls fluttering at the dark stares they all give you.

“Only care about getting this pretty cunt stuffed, doesn’t even matter where, either does it?”Felix coos, turning your attention back to him. 

“No, just need to be full all the time,” you slur, mind growing foggier by the second. Felix takes notice, picking up his pace easily. 

“I know angel, promise we’ll keep you full. Why don’t you cum for me, hmm? Show them how pretty you look when you make a mess, yeah?” he says, hand reaching down to rub at your clit. The pleasure is heightened with how sensitive you are. It doesn’t take long before you’re sent straight off the edge. You cum with a broken cry, tensing in his hold. Felix lets out an appreciative moan, filling you up with his own cum. You’re still shaking as you cum down from your high, letting Felix dote over you as if he didn’t just give you an earth shattering orgasm.

SEUNGMIN

There’s only one way to describe Seungmin’s time with you: sweet torture. Seungmin’s a hard dom through and through. When he agreed to the arrangement of using you that when you’re with him it's all about him.

For instance the outfit you wear as you stroll into the company building. Skirt barely covering the tops of your thighs, top showing off your plush sides just enough for his hands to fit over them, even the platformed shoes he bought you as a gift just so you can be closer for him to leave marks against your shoulder.

Seungmin loves watching you walk into the practice room all dolled up for him. He’s quick to pull you over to him, hands grasping at anywhere he can get his hands on you. You’re just as desperate as you reach up, pressing yourself as close as you can get. 

It isn’t long before he has you writhing in his grasp. The songs he was memorizing are long forgotten as he presses against your backside. He makes you cross your legs over the other, hands braced against the piano as he uses just your thighs to get off.

“Minnie! You’re being mean!” you whine, still twisting your hips to have him slip inside you. 

He clicks his tongue, pinching your side as he angles your hips higher, his cock now deliberately hitting your clit with every stroke. You can only moan, face contorting at the sparks of pleasure that shoot through your core.

“No, you’re just being a greedy slut,” he grunts. Seungmin smirks, leaning down to drag his lips up to your ear.

“This isn’t about you. Let me have my fun and maybe I’ll be nice enough to cum in you, okay?” he says, hips continuing their unrelenting pace. 

You whine, hands twitching with the need to grip him, but the pleasure is already making it hard to keep yourself upright. You know the second you let go of the piano, your body will crumple to the floor. Instead you lean your body back into his chest, his name falling from your lips in a desperate mantra.

Seungmin isn’t handling this any better.  He’s thankful your back is facing him, that way he can hide the way his own face twists in pleasure. Seungmin’s mouth hangs open in a low moan, cock twitching at the feeling of your soft thighs hugging his cock. He can’t help but love the way you look falling apart in front of him. A stark contrast to how you pranced through the door, offering him a bright smile as if you didn’t know exactly where you’d end up. Clothes half pulled off, hands clutching at the top of the piano, no doubt ruining the sheet music he’d spent hours adding notes to. And it's all for him. All he has to do is send you a text, and you’re ready to be used by him. That thought alone is what pushes him over the edge.

“Fuck,” he mutters out, the only warning he can give you, unable to stop himself from cumming. You gasp at the feeling of warmth leaking against you, still partially delirious from the pleasure.

“Minnie!” you sob as you look down, watching his cum leak across your thighs, hitting the top of the piano. His hips still buck against you, hands keeping you firmly in place while he rides out his own high. 

“You said if I was good-” you cry, falling back against him again, core throbbing with the need to have him in you. 

“You were good, but I never said when I would cum in you pup,” he laughs against your neck. He finally pulls himself away from you, leaving you to balance on your legs that feel like they’ve turned to jello. You shiver glancing up at him with teary eyes as you struggle to regain your composure. He only grins at your pout, hand reaching up to smooth out your top.

“Maybe later. Now fix your clothes and let’s go.”

JEONGIN

Innie, you’ve come to find out over the past few months is quite literally insatiable.

Jeongin for the most part doesn’t call on you for stress relief, and when he does it’s usually quickies in the form of handjobs or using your mouth right before he leaves for a shoot. But the first time you joined them on tour was something you’ll never forget. It was the night after their third show and he’d texted you to come to his hotel room. You’d found him sitting on his bed, towel lazily wrapped around his hips as he palmed himself. 

“Come here. Need you, now.” he calls out, flicking the wet hair out of his eyes. The way his sharp gaze watches you leaves no room for arguing. You stand in between his legs, ready to drop to your knees when he tugs you to him, manhandling you underneath him. You let out a quiet gasp as you look up at him with wide eyes. He smirks, leaning down to whisper in your ear, 

“What is it? Didn’t think I could be like Channie or Minho Hyung, hmm? His voice tickles your ear. Your eyes flutter at the sensation, his grin widens in response. His next words send shivers down your spine. 

“Trust me baby, I’m a lot worse."

The room is filled with the sound of Jeongin’s hips meeting your ass, but to be quite honest you can’t hear much of what’s going on around you. With your face pressed into the sheets, the only sound you can really hear is your muffled cries as Jeongin uses you. The robe belt Jeongin had woven around your wrists and ankles digs into your skin from the hogtie position he keeps you in. Your arms are tied behind your back, fists clenched at the small of your back. Your legs tremble with the need to close them, instead they’re forced to stay spread and bent at the knee. Your muscles ache from how long you’ve been held like this. 

You know you’ll be sore and bruised tomorrow morning, but with the way Jeongin thrusts into you can’t find it in you enough to care right now.

“Innie- fuck, Innie please,” you sob out, as he drives his cock into your sweet spot relentlessly. 

He grips the knot at the base of your hips, tugging on it until your front arches off the bed. 

“Go on, you can cum again. Just know I’m gonna keep fucking you until I’m done,” he says, his hips somehow driving into you harder.

The scream you let out is embarrassing. But the orgasm that rips through you has you shaking harder in Jeongin’s hold. Your walls spasming as you feel yourself gushing around Jeongin’s cock. You can feel the wetness that coats your inner thighs from you squirting. You’re still writhing in Jeongin’s hold. Little aftershocks make you cry into the sheets with each of Jeongin’s thrusts. He groans, hips slowing to a shallow grind as he watches you cum around him. He leans down, panting into your ear heavily. Despite the intense orgasm you just felt, you can’t help the way you twitch at his next words. 

“Look at that… I didn’t know you could squirt baby, how many times do you think I can make you do that for me before the sun comes up?” he asks, grinning at the way your body responds to him.

Dividers by : @/cafekitsune

[unreliablesnake]

Ghost saw it all. As he worked on tiring the rookies, they somehow just got more energetic when you entered the gym in those tight yoga pants and the crop top. They suddenly desperately wanted to prove that they were all young, fit, and worthy of your attention. You glanced in their direction every now and then, usually when you were leaning down to stretch your limbs.

But he knew better than to believe you were there to rile them up and give him a headache for having to deal with them. You were there to rile him up.

He could still hear your begging for more; for one more finger inside you, for one more orgasm, for one more night together. It was always the same game of chase for the two of you, but he loved every second of it. Small, almost accidental touches in the hallways, lingering looks during briefings, shamelessly dirty texts when you couldn’t be together… It was heaven for him.

“Having fun over there, sergeant?” he asked, faking disapproval as he walked closer to you. The rookies were doing a few laps around them, he had time to play your little game for a few minutes.

“Just came to work out a little. Didn’t know you would be here. Am I bothering you?” you replied with an innocent smile.

You didn’t know. And you dared to ask if you were bothering them. What a sly little thing you were. With a smile under his mask, he took a short step closer to you. “You know perfectly well you’re bothering. It’s hard to focus when all I want is ripping these tight pants apart so I could bend you over a bench and fuck you senseless,” he informed you in a hushed voice.

Your breath caught in your throat and you gulped upon hearing him. “I’m sorry. I can leave.”

Without waiting for his answer, you turned around and threw your bottle into your small duffel bag. You wanted him to beg you to stay. You wanted to hear him admit that he wanted you there. And he knew you would get what you wanted, no matter how hard he tried to resist. He simply loved having you around a little too much.

“Don’t go,” he said eventually, causing you to turn back with a wicked smile on your lips.

“So you wanna torture these poor rookies while thinking about what you would like to do with me? They might notice you staring at me.” Ghost shrugged. “I’ll just go back to my room. Maybe someone will come around to… What did you say? To fuck me senseless?”

He licked his lip as he watched you. It took every bit of concentration to keep himself together and not do something that would give away you were more than just teammates. “Give me half an hour.”

You nodded, then picked up your bag and left the gym. Ghost heard one of the rookies complain that you left, so he turned to him and said, “I heard that. Because it’s rude to talk about women this way, the whole group will do one hundred push-ups.”

[tojiscumdumpster]

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ i. suguru

⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⭑๋࣭ summary page

please refresh your memory of the content warnings that's mentioned on the summary page. this chapter will include s*xual activites.

Ah, fuck, baby. Just like that.”

 No. I lied. Not just like that. 

 I’ve been in the bathroom for twenty minutes with some chick, whose name I can’t remember, getting probably the worst head I’ve ever had in my life. I’m pretty sure I’m still soft, but her self-esteem won’t allow her pride to be tarnished by the lack of abilities she has to make me come. 

 She approached me while I was having drinks with Satoru, Shoko, and Nanami. Well, really Shoko and Nanami because Satoru just keeps getting sugary milkshakes. Anyways, that’s not the point. She approached me. I thought she had nice lips, which I thought could be utilized to please me, but instead, she couldn’t stop talking.

 “Do you like that, baby?” she asked, for maybe the tenth time. 

 I groaned. Though, not in the way that she thinks. I couldn’t do this anymore, and I knew her knees were hurting. “No. Look, Akane,” I sigh, pulling her off me and lifting her to meet my face. “I don’t—”

 “Ayame,” she interrupted. I gave her a confused look. “My name is Ayame. Not, Akane.”

 My right eye twitched. “Okay, Ayame . Look,” I began, adjusting myself back in my pants. “I don’t like it. It’s okay, though. Maybe it’s not you. Maybe I’m just tired. But hey, I’ll get your number and we can try this some other time. Okay?”

 “Ugh, whatever.” 

 I eventually got her number before we made our way out of the bathroom. I’m not going to text her. I was just trying to make her feel better.

 My plans were never to hook up with anyone tonight, let alone leave my apartment. But Satoru insisted I needed to come out of my shell more. 

 I’m pretty sure that was code for, you need to get laid.

 I argued with him that I don’t need anything. It wasn’t hard for me to find someone to have sex with. I’ve just been on a break because I haven’t found anyone who matches my libido or someone I actually enjoyed.

 Don’t get me wrong—most of the women I’ve been with are beautiful. Physically, my type. However, they’re just too boring. Too prissy. It’s like they’re trying to prove something to me when I fuck them. 

 The unnecessary loud moaning.

 The unnatural facial expressions when they come.

 Not wanting to be kissed after I eat their pussy, which I find strange because why wouldn’t you want to taste yourself? Questionable .

 Anyways. This is the last time I’m allowing Satoru to drag me out of my apar—

 My thoughts were interrupted by someone running into me. 

 “Oh! I’m sorry.”

 That. . . That voice. Sultry. Raspy. All I heard were three words and I felt at ease. Her scent was alluring. Sweet. Delicate. I’m picking up notes of warm berries, creamy vanilla. Maybe cacao? She smells so fucking good. But when I looked at her? I’m convinced she’s the most beautiful woman I’ve ever fucking laid eyes on.

 Her complexion reminded me of autumn. Deep and warm. Those chestnut-colored doe eyes I knew I would become lost in if I didn’t look away. It didn’t take long before I took notice of the fullness of her lips. They were two different colors. Brown on top and pink on bottom, coated with a clear gloss.  Gosh, I want to suck them. I want to suck them so fucking badly until she becomes whiny. My cock is getting hard just thinking—

 “Hello?” she spoke again. 

  Suguru, what the fuck?

 I looked down and noticed my fingers were still caged around her soft flesh. I immediately pulled away. “S-Sorry,” I stammered. Why am I so damn nervous?

 She looked at me through narrow eyes with a hint of playfulness. “It’s okay. . . Well, enjoy your night.” 

 “Wait!” Before she turned away from me, I impulsively reached for her wrist to prevent her from leaving.

 Those brown hues that were amorous turned dark, daggers that penetrated my head. They were a warning to let her go. They make me want to be submit. So I didn’t let go.

 “What’s your name?”

 I still see the daggers in her eyes, however, she slightly raised her brows while tilting her head out of confusion— boldness —of my decision to not let go of her wrist. My expression is deadpan, but I feel heat rushing to my body, to my cock.

 She drags her eyes up my frame, stopping at the front of my pants that caused my dick to twitch in response. She chuckled, snatched her wrist, and walked away from me. 

 I stood where she left me, lust filled and wishful thinking about how desperately I want her. No, need her. And by the end of the night, I'll know how she feels around me.

Later that night. . .

 I sit at the booth, dividing my attention between the conversation being held at the table and the bar, where the woman I ran into earlier sits. I can’t stop thinking about fucking her. The image of her thick curves plays in my mind. She’s so sexy. That backless dress that clung to her hips drove me insane. I was craving those love handles. I wanted to hold them, bite them to leave territorial marks.  

 What the fuck is wrong with me? This instant lust was foreign to me. I don’t remember the last time my cock was this eager. Maybe never.

But it's just something about her that has arousal fucking burn through my veins.

 “Suguru!” Satoru’s voice tore me away from my perverted thoughts. 

 “Huh?” I answered, but my attention was still on the bar.

 He pouted. “Are you even listening to me?”

 “Uhm, yeah. You were talking about throwing a surprise party for Utahime.” I'm hoping I'm right because the last thing I need is to hear a speech about how I always ignore him.

 “No. That was thirty minutes ago.”

 “Okay, sorry. Repeat what you said.” 

 He sighed. “There’s no point. You’re not even looking at me. What are you even looking at over. . . Ohhh, I see.” I knew Satoru would begin mocking me based on his voice and how he slurped the remnants of probably his fourth milkshake tonight. “Aren’t you glad I dragged you out tonight? If I didn’t, you wouldn’t have seen her,” he says, scooting closer to nudge me. “She’s gorgeous.”

  I snapped my attention back to Satoru, glowering him.

 Why? She wasn't my girlfriend. I don’t even know her name, but she was off-limits. 

 I know she’s gorgeous. He didn’t have to fucking tell me that. 

 I decided not to play into his obvious game. My time can be used elsewhere, like sitting next to that beautiful woman. I’ve been watching her for the past three hours, seeing how several men, at least ten or more approached her with their advances. 

 She declined every single last one. But I didn’t care. Seeing her reject a couple of men would never hurt my ego. . . especially since I knew she’d be mine.

 I had nothing to worry about.

 I left the table for the second time tonight and this time, I’m not planning on returning. 

 Every step I took brought me closer to the woman of my dreams. Her rich scent starts to fill my senses and I'm almost positive I've developed a smell kink because of her.

 Shit, if she smells like that, I could only image how her pussy is. I'd do anything to run my nose between her folds.

  Focus, Suguru. You can’t go over there hard. 

 Yes, I can, and I will. 

 I was close enough to be in the shot of her peripheral, making her notice me. She sized me up before giving her attention back to the large televisions surrounding the bar.

 I smirked. She’s enticing. She may or may not make me work for pussy, but I don’t mind at all. 

 Of course, I’m a gentleman, so I asked if the seat next to her was taken. I’m sure the other guys asked her this same question. I saw her reject them. She didn’t say yes or no to me, so naturally I took it as a yes. 

 I nod at the bartender. “Open a tab for me. Double Hibiki on the rocks, and add this lovely lady’s tab onto mine,” I told him. 

 “I can pay for my tab,” she says, eyes remaining on the TV. 

 “I don’t remember saying that you couldn’t. Now did I?” I saw her roll her eyes, which made me chuckle. Fuck, I like her even more. “Are you going to tell me your name now?”

 She lightly scoffs. “Why are you being so clingy over a name? And common courtesy, you introduce yourself before asking for someone’s name. Do you lack mannerisms?” 

 Twenty-four words.

 That’s how many words she spoke to me, and I watched her plush lips pronounce every last syllable. 

 She speaks to me with such spice, but I know she’d sound so sweet while my cock is deep inside of her. 

 “You’re right. Maybe you can forgive my lack of mannerisms ,” I say, teasingly. “My name is Geto Suguru.”

 She finally gives me her attention, scanning my arms that are painted with tattoos before actually looking at my face, leisurely. But says nothing and returns to watch whatever is on TV. 

 I continued, “I didn’t get your name?” The bartender placed my whiskey in front of me and I gave him my gratitude while waiting for her name. 

 “Because I didn’t give it. What do you want anyways? Placed a bet with your friends to see if you could get an older woman’s number? Hm?”

 I threw my hands up in surrender, chucking. “No, and older? We’re probably the same age. I can even argue that you’re younger than me.”

 “Ha, I doubt it.”

 “Twenty-seven.”

 “Me or you?” she asks.

 “Me.” I take another sip of my drink. “You?”

 “Damn, you want my name and age? Should I give you my ID number, too?” 

  She’s such a fucking tease. 

 “I’ll settle for your name and age.” For now. 

 Her lips part into a smile that pulls strings inside my chest. “Settle?”

 I smirk. “I just want to make sure I can be in this territory.”

 We lock eyes. Hers shines curiosity and mine shines intent. I want her to understand that I’m not going anywhere unless it’s with her. For a moment, I allowed my eyes to fall on her gloss-coated lips, then the rest of her body to make my message clear. Something in me wanted the boldness to leak and tell her how badly I wanted her to fuck her, but I chose to play it safe. 

 “Thirty-five.”

 “Me or you?” I teased, earning another eye roll from her. 

 “And for your information,”—she raises her left hand—“territory off limits. I have a husband.”

 Oh, so she is married. 

 Funny she thinks that’s going to stop me. Like I’m supposed to give a fuck. 

 “Well, I think it’s silly that your husband is allowing such a beautiful woman such as yourself”—my eyes roam along her curves—“to come out alone and potentially have other men make a move on her. No?”

 She narrowed her eyes. “What are you trying to say, Geto? Just spit it out.”

  Say my fucking name like that again. 

 I got up from my seat, invading her personal space to ghost my lips along her ear, making it clear, “I want to fuck you. . . so badly. ” The last words came out as a faint whisper. 

 I stood there for a moment so my clear message could linger. If I didn’t know any better, her breathing quickened for a moment. I sat back in my seat and watched her attentively to see if I could catch a reaction. Her face showed none, but the subtle uncrossing and crossing of her legs told me everything I needed to know. 

 She’s aroused.

  Wet .

 Dripping. 

 But she didn’t say anything. Only cleared her throat and sipped on her near-empty glass of wine. 

 We sat in silence for at least ten minutes, and just when I was about to call the bartender for another round for the both of us, she stood up. She started walking away, and rather than reaching for her wrist like I did the last time, I watched her sway her full hips in the direction of the restrooms. She has been drinking, so of course she probably needs to go clear her system. However, the small look over her shoulders in my direction said otherwise. 

 I chugged the rest of my whiskey, pulled out cash, leaving more than needed, and followed her. 

Our lips collided, kissing recklessly like two horny college kids at a frat party. I felt myself becoming greedy and eager to have my hands run along her curves. Her tits, waist, neck—I didn't know which part of her body to focus on because having under the touch of my hands feels so fucking good. 

 And it didn't help hearing those faint whimpers every grip and nip on her flesh I left. 

 Maybe my movements are fervent, but I don't give a fuck. Sucking on soft lips to taste those sweet sounds is all I've thought about since I laid my eyes on her. Kissing her alone could make me come in my pants. 

 My cock is screaming for a release, being uncomfortable due to the restraint of my pants that keeps its hardness from fully erecting. I’m in between wanting to take my time with her and being eager to fuck her, so I choose the latter.

 I lifted her with ease onto the sink and break out kiss to drag my lips across her flesh. I suck, nip, and lick that sweet neck of hers. Her whimpers turn into soft moans, and I couldn’t get enough of how sexy she fucking sounds. Not forced. Not trying to impress me. Just pure bliss. 

 I found my way between her breasts to leave open mouthed kisses while pinching her nipples through the sheer material of her dress. She reacts by lacing her fingers through my hair and pull me closer until I've suffocating against her chest.

 Fucking hell. She's needy, too?

 “Geto,” she moans. 

 “Hm? What’s wrong, pretty girl?”

 “ I need more. ”

 “You need more, what?” I ask, pulling down her straps to expose her breasts. 

 They’re so full. I’m met with the prettiest tits I've ever seen. Naturally saggy. Slight stretch marks. Dark brown peaks.

 They’re fucking perfect. 

 I continue, “Use your words. I don’t know what you need if you don’t tell me.” Then start sucking on her nipples. 

 Her gasps fill the bathroom, and while I’m showing love to her breasts, she begins hiking up her dress and spreads her legs. 

 I smell her. 

 How wet she is. 

 Her scent is telling me that she’s dying to cream on my cock. But I need to hear it. 

 “Geto. . . I need you to fuck me, ” she purrs.

 I stopped sucking her breasts to level with her face. Both of our hues are darkening with an appetite for each other. Lust. Hunger. A need for a release. I pulled out a condom from my pocket and held it in my mouth. Without breaking our contact, I unbuckle my pants to push down, along with my briefs, in one motion to free my dick. She looked down and sucked in a sharp breath before bringing her eyes back up to me. 

 She’s probably thinking that she can’t take me. But she will. That’s what I’m here for. To help her and make sure she does. 

 I ripped the wrapper with my teeth to roll on my cock, still not taking my eyes off her. I will never stop watching her. I need to see her reaction to everything I do.

 When I finish pushing her dress up to her waist.

 When her brows draw together when I pull her panties to the side and run my fingers along her puffy folds to rub her clit. 

 She looks so damn pretty when she’s pleased. I’m anticipating her face when I’m finally inside her. 

 I pull her to the edge of the sink, lining myself up to her entrance to push in. Though, I was met with an intrusion. My head was barely in.

 When was the last time she got fucked? 

 “Hm, stubborn we’re being. Aren’t we?” I taunt. 

 “It’s been a minute,” she teases back. 

 That’s fine. We’ll fix that.

 I bring my fingers back to her pussy to warm up her walls. The moment I slipped inside, she immediately clenched around my fingers. I only had two in and I felt like I was being pushed out again. I’m not going anywhere, though.

 I pump my digits in and out of her, pulling the most obnoxious and pornographic sounds of wetness. It’s like music to my ears. My only intent was to open her up a bit, but I could tell she was dying to come. 

 She looks at me through lidded eyes, softly panting and holding my wrist. I pick up my speed while now rubbing her clit with my thumb. Her pussy was squeezing the feeling out of my fingers, indicating she was about to come. So she held my hand in place to ride out her orgasm. 

 “ F-Fuck . . . Geto. I’m coming.” Earlier she was spicy to me, but now she cries and sounds so sweet dripping on my fingers.  

 She’s open and ready to come for me again. 

 I grabbed my cock to slam myself inside of her in one motion, which gifted me with a sharp cry I’m sure anyone outside could hear. She slapped her hand over her mouth to muffle the sounds of pleasure, but I shook my head and removed her hand. 

 “When I’m inside of you” —I pulled back— “When I’m making you cum.” —I pushed in— “You call me Suguru. Okay?” She nodded, placing her hand below my abdomen to hold my shirt up to prepare for my thrusts. “Good girl.”

 I didn’t let her adjust to my size. She could take it. I know she can. I start fucking her with hunger while keeping her legs apart. Gosh, she’s so fucking tight. So wet and warm. I doubt her husband knows what to do with her pussy because she wouldn’t be here crying on my cock. 

 I stuff every inch of me in her depths to pull out her moans. To watch how gorgeous she looks while being fucked. I want to ask her if can I feel her raw because this fucking rubber is preventing me from feeling her a hundred percent. But I don’t want to show my greed

 Not yet, at least. 

 I’ve never had pussy this good before. Pussy that’s leaking and creaming all over me. No one else deserves this but me. Fucking pussy this good is pure luck, and I feel like the luckiest man alive. 

 “You’re doing so good, Suguru. This feels so fucking good,” she cries. “Fuck me harder.”

 Her praise makes my dick twitch. Imagine being praised by someone with pussy as good as hers. 

  I’m so lucky. 

 However, her need for more makes me possessive. I ripped her away from the sink to place her back against the door and fucked her against it. The door jiggles from our intense fucking and it only jumps more the harder I fuck her. 

 “W-Wait. S-Suguru, it’s too. . . it’s too much, ” she stammered through breathy moans. "You’re too big."

 I clicked my tongue. “You begged me to fuck you harder and now it’s too much?” I shook my head. “Take this cock like a good girl because I know you can. I know you can. Just take it for me. Okay? Hm? Will you do that for me? I just want to make you come one more time. Is that okay?”

 Every word I spoke to her I felt her squeezing my cock. I can feel her coming again soon. She just needed reassurance. 

 “. . . Okay. I’ll take it, Suguru. I’ll take it .”

 I repeatedly pecked her lips. “Fuck. Thank you, angel. Thank you for giving me this good pussy. This fat wet pussy. Do you realize how good you feel?”

 I continued pounding into her pussy and noticed her tits falling out of her dress with every thrust I made. Her chestnut-colored hues glossed with pleasure and tears began pricking the corner of her eyes. 

 She's high off my fucking. Not her pathetic ass husband. I don't even know the guy, but how much of a dickhead you have to be to not worship as mesmerizing as she is?

 I think I’m infatuated. 

 No, I think I love her. She needs to be mine, and mine only.

 I’m the only motherfucker that needs to fuck her like this. I'm not letting this just be a one night stand. I’m going to make her come again tonight. Tomorrow. The day after. The weekend. All day, every day. Only me. 

  Suguru, relax.

 I’m so lost in my thoughts, but her heightened moans brought me back. She doesn’t care about being loud anymore. Yes. Cry my name loud enough so the whole restaurant knows who’s making you come like a slut in the bathroom. 

 “Yes. Oh, fuck, yes! Give it to me, Suguru. Give it,” she begs while rubbing her clit. “I’m about to come again.”

 I push past my thrusts, digging my fingers into her flesh to keep her in place. “Look at my pretty girl taking this fucking cock.” I fuck her with the energy of a lion chasing its prey. “Like this?”

  She nods, desperately. "Yes. Yes, like that, Sugu. I'm coming. I'm fucking coming."

 I’m indecisive about letting her moans roam freely or devouring them with a kiss. And she looks so pretty. That fucking smile while libido pumps through her veins has my cock jumping inside of her unruly. I’m doing my best to hold back my release, but the feel of her pussy is not making it easy. 

 I look down between us and fucking groan from seeing the creamy mess she’s making. My cock down to my balls. The hem of my shirt. Her thighs. Even after she orgasmed, her pussy grips me. How could I not be greedy?

 “One more?” I panted, smirking. 

 Her eyes blew wide. “S-Suguru, no. I don’t think I can.”

 “So why is your fucking pussy still squeezing me?” I was left with nothing but a whimper. “Exactly. Keep rubbing your clit until you come again and squirt all over me.”

 I remove her from the door to hook my arms under her thighs to have her meet with my intense thrusts. She hooks one of her hands around my neck while the other is being used to play with herself. I feel my balls growing heavy and slapping against her sex.

 I was recklessly fucking her pussy like I have no home training. I moan for her. Call for her despite me not knowing her name. I’m lucky. I’m so, so lucky. Fuck her husband. This pussy is mine. I don’t care if this is our first encounter. I’ll kill over pussy like this. 

 “Ahh, fuck!” I growled. My release crept up to the tip of my cock and sprayed the inside of the condom while I fucked her through both of our orgasms. She came between us, drenching my cock, shirt, and pants with her squirt. 

 I hope she doesn’t think this is the last time we’ll see each other.

 I rest my face on the side of her cheek, breaking heavily from that intense orgasm. I know the condom is filled to the stop. I had years worth of come built inside of me, and I still feel like I have more to give. 

 She looks at me, eyes still filled with lust and smirks. “Not too bad, Geto.”

 “I thought I told you to call me Suguru,” I say, leaving kisses on her neck.

 “You said only when I’m coming on your dick.”

 She listens.

 “I did say that. Didn’t I?” I let out an airy chuckle. “Still call me Suguru.”

 “Okay, Suguru .” It rolls off her tongue perfectly even when she’s not moaning. “I enjoyed myself.”

 I nipped on her jawline before meeting her lips with a sensual kiss. “I did too. I want to do it again.”

 “You got three nuts out of me. How needy can you be?” she teases.

 If only she knew.

 “No. Not tonight. I mean, I wouldn’t mind, but not tonight. Another time.”

 She looks at me in confusion. “One night stands aren’t your cup of tea?” She taps my shoulders to let her down so she can start fixing herself. We shared a final moan when I removed my cock from her pussy. The lost contact makes me want her more. 

 “Yeah, they are, " I answered. "But I don’t think there’s anything wrong with enjoying each other’s company. No?”

 “No, but”–she pulls down her dress—“you’re forgetting that I’m married.”

 I arched my brow, teasingly. “Did I forget or did you?”

 She glares at me. “Seems like I have a thing for jackasses with good dick.”

 There goes that spice again.

 “Look. That’s not what I meant and you know that.”

 “Ha. Oh, do I?” 

 I watched her finish adjusting herself in the mirror, grabbing her purse, and heading for the door. The moment her hand lands on the handle, I put my hand on top of hers to keep the knob from turning. By all means, she’s not a short woman. Maybe five-foot-seven at most. But even with heels, I tower her. 

 Wrapping my free arm around her waist, I push myself against her so she can feel my erection against her ass. My lips meet with her ear, and I know she’s affected by my actions because I heard the moment her breath hitched.

 “It’s just. . . you’re so damn beautiful. You can’t give me that good pussy and expect me to only want it once,” I whisper. “I haven’t even tasted you yet.”

 “ Suguru . . .” Her voice was soft, barely above a hushed tone.

 “Hm?”

 She turns around. Our eyes lock once more. Her plush lips ghost over mines, nearly kissing me, but says, “Go fuck yourself,” and walks out the door. 

 Yeah. I think I love her. 

 I follow behind her like a lost puppy. “Wait!” She stops in the hallway near the bathrooms. “You still didn’t give me your name.”

 Smirking over her shoulder, she left me there with a semi-hard cock and her name.

 “Y/N.”

  Y/N. . . Perfect.

 I hope she doesn’t think this will be the last time I see her.

 It’s not. 

  Far from it.

next chapter

[etherealphosphor]

Melancholy

⟡ Contains: Neuvillette x Gn!Reader, Sfw, Fluff then angst, Reader gets blackmailed, Tiny bit of violence, Brief mention of blood

You had always been Neuvillette’s only assistant, which was odd considering the Chief Justice usually had many. Due to this fact, you were often rushing around, trying to manage all of the tasks for the day. Even though the work was tiring, you were never mad at Neuvillette for it. For someone so intimidating, Neuvillette was surprisingly kind to you. One might expect him to be a harsh boss, but he was the exact opposite.

Neuvillette had no limit on paid leaves, trusting you to use them fairly. Additionally, if you wished to leave work early due to exhaustion or for other reasons, he would simply find someone else to do your work for you. Of course, you were quite confused. What kind of boss just lets their employees leave work whenever they want? And if he could just get a replacement so quickly, why not have more full-time assistants like a Chief Justice ought to? It was almost as if efficiency was his last priority.

Though confused, you were still inclined to believe that Neuvillette knew what he was doing. After all, a man of such high status must have things under control. Neuvillette’s kindness towards you was something you were always grateful for, and it brightened your day whenever he thanked you earnestly for working for him.

Even if the task was as simple as bringing him a glass of water, he still looked you in the eyes as he told you how much he appreciated your help. Though, lately, his eye contact and gentle smile stirred a different emotion in your chest. An uneasy, nervous feeling, but not unpleasant. Was it love? You didn’t quite know.

One time, you held Neuvillette’s gaze for a little longer than usual, stunned by how beautiful his blue-grey eyes were.

"[Name], are you alright? Is there something else you need from me?" Neuvillette asked you, a little puzzled as to what you were staring at him for.

Snapping out of it, you quickly stammered, "Ah, n-no. Just spacing out, I-I apologize, Monsieur Neuvillette."

"How many times must I tell you that you can just call me Neuvillette? There is no need for such formal titles." Neuvillette softly chuckled.

"A-Alright. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Neuvillette." You quickly said, before exiting his office.

That night, you lay awake thinking about Neuvillette. No, it can’t be. Is it possible that I’ve developed romantic feelings for the Chief Justice? It’s unheard of, but I don’t think I can deny it any longer. Though I doubt I’m anything more than an assistant to him, after all, people of such high status as him don’t really go after anyone of a lower class. What do I even do?

After pondering for a long while, you eventually ended up falling asleep. Your dreams contained many different romantic scenes between you and Neuvillette, which caused you to be decently flustered when you woke up. You were quite embarrassed that your unconscious brain could even think up such things.

After getting ready, you headed off to Neuvillette’s office to get the list of chores for the day. Unsurprisingly, you couldn’t look him in the eyes after what you saw in your dreams.

Staring at your feet, you began to speak. "Greetings, Neuvillette, what tasks do you have for me today?"

Noticing your strange behavior, Neuvillette asked, "Good morning, [Name]. Is something on your mind? You’ve been acting so odd lately. If you’re going through anything, I can easily find someone to temporarily fill your position for a couple days."

"No.. no. It’s not that. Don’t worry yourself, Neuvillette. I am fine."

"If you’re sure." Neuvillette said, handing you a small list.

When you took the paper from his hands, you accidentally looked up, making direct eye contact. Those beautiful eyes of his were always something that fascinated you. And paired with that kind smile on his face, your heart simply couldn’t take it. You felt the heat slowly creep onto your face, and you quickly looked away from him. You hoped he hadn’t seen you blushing.

Though, of course, Neuvillette was a very perceptive man, and he did indeed notice. One does have to pick up on small details to judge court cases, after all.

"[Name], you look a little flushed; are you sure you’re in perfect health? It would be outrageous to ask you to work while you’re sick." Neuvillette asked, reaching out to feel your forehead for a fever.

You immediately flinched; this action of his was quite unexpected, and it caught you off guard.

"Oh, my apologies. Did I cross a boundary? It was merely out of habit." Neuvillette said, putting that hand over his heart to show his sincerity.

"Ah—no—it's fine. You didn’t do anything wrong." You replied, your own heart beating faster.

Oh, archons above, I’ve really fallen for him hard, haven’t I?

Over the next couple of days, you continued acting quite nervous around Neuvillette, something that he simply couldn’t ignore. Your behavior confused him, and he wished to get to the bottom of what was causing such a reaction.

Neuvillette had his suspicions, for sure, as the way you looked at him wasn’t exactly normal. However, he brushed it off as wishful thinking. After all, in secret, he did have quite a soft spot for you. Which was very unusual for him, as he avoided personal relationships with everybody else. To him, you were a fascinating anomaly. Who could predict that the Chief Justice would actually end up falling for someone? Even he himself was surprised.

Finally, after a week of your odd nervousness, Neuvillette simply had to ask you what was wrong once more. He doubted you would answer him properly, like every other time he had asked, and he knew that he would have to get your reaction to specific questions to gauge the situation.

Calling you into his office, he began to speak. "[Name], I know something has been on your mind lately. I’ve asked a couple times before, but I haven’t gotten a straight answer. Now, I hate to pry, but I worry that this topic may concern me, and I’d like to know if I have done something wrong so I can possibly make right of it."

Shaking your head slightly, you said, "No, Neuvillette. It’s really nothing. You didn’t mess anything up."

"You haven’t yet told me if this involves me, and don’t try to lie about it, [Name]. I can see through any lie in a second. So, does your anxiousness have anything to do with me?"

After a moment, you slowly nodded. After all, you couldn’t easily keep anything from this man. Being the Chief Justice, Neuvillette was trained to notice when people were being dishonest, so it was certainly quite a feat to get any lies past him.

"Ah, so it does indeed involve me. If I haven’t done anything wrong, then what is causing such a reaction from you?"

"I don’t think I can say it out loud, Neuvillette.."

"That’s fine. I already have my own suspicions, after all. However, I worry that they may be incorrect. I still have my doubts, which is why I haven’t brought up my own thoughts yet."

"Oh, I see. Well, what do you think?" You asked, feigning calmness. In reality, you could feel your heart beating faster.

"[Name], please correct me if I’m wrong, but... are you romantically interested in me?"

Your eyes widened. Neuvillette had indeed figured it out. You didn’t doubt that he would in the end, but you were still shocked that he had asked so bluntly. You had no idea how to respond, so you just looked away from him, completely red-faced.

"It really is that, isn’t it?" Neuvillette sounded almost as shocked as you were. With urgency in his voice, he began to speak, "[Name], please tell me if I’m right. This is important information to me."

You didn’t dare make eye contact or even move a muscle; you were too scared to do anything.

Grabbing your hands in his, Neuvillette began to speak with a hurried, apprehensive tone in his voice. "Is my conclusion correct? Please, [Name], don’t leave me in the dark like this; I must know."

Still looking away, you managed to choke out one word: "Y-yes.."

Moving his hands to your face, he cupped your cheeks and forced you to stare him directly in the eyes. "Do you truly mean it, [Name]?"

Neuvillette was smiling brightly. That was rare for the Chief Justice—usually all that could be seen from him was a small grin. But this time, it was completely different. He looked at you with a beaming smile that made his eyes sparkle just as bright.

"I—yes, of course.. of course I mean it." You said, your voice sounding a little lost. Everything was happening so quickly.

Neuvillette pulled you into an embrace, tightly hugging you to his chest. "I’m so glad, really, I am. You can’t imagine how long I’ve been wanting to hear that from you. I’ve always had a soft spot for you, but you must have already known about that. After all, there’s no way you didn’t notice my strange behavior toward you. That is also the reason I never hired any other assistants; I only wanted you by my side."

Your head was spinning a little; all this new information was so shocking, and your brain had yet to fully process it. Once the realization of what had been said had sunk in a little, you melted into Neuvillette’s gentle arms. You couldn’t believe your luck. The Chief Justice himself had fallen head over heels for you? Impossible. Focalors herself must have been smiling down at you.

Over the next few days, you made your relationship with Neuvillette official. Well, official to only the two of you, that is. Due to the judgment placed upon those with high status dating people with lower status, you had suggested that Neuvillette keep things a secret.

Neuvillette simply stated that being with you was nothing to be ashamed of, and that he didn’t mind any gossip spread about him as a consequence. However, what made Neuvillette keep the relationship a secret was when you told him that people would assume you were using him for his status and money.

Now, the last thing Neuvillette wanted was for your name to be tarnished in such a way. Rumors about him dating the lower class could be spread across the entirety of Teyvat for all he cared, but he would never apologize for loving you. But Neuvillette would not tolerate you being accused of being shallow and selfish.

After about a month of hiding your relationship, things were getting more and more difficult to cover up. You drove Neuvillette crazy; he had never experienced something like it before. Due to this fact, you two would often very nearly get caught. Perhaps it was the red marks left on your neck after spending time in his office, or maybe it was the affectionate looks you gave each other. Either way, the both of you got quite a few raised eyebrows from others working in the building.

One time, Neuvillette had you pinned against a wall in a secluded hallway, passionately kissing you as his hands trailed down to your waist. His gentle caresses were enough to make you let out a small whimper, which only excited him even further.

Moving your head to one side, Neuvillette gently sunk his teeth into your neck, trying his best not to break the skin. It was more difficult for him to be gentle than an average person due to the fact that he had sharp fangs.

Suddenly, Neuvillette pulled away from you. "Shh. I think somebody is coming."

You quickly regained your composure in case Neuvillette was correct, stepping away from your place against the wall. Meanwhile, Neuvillette was taking a look around the entrance to the hallway, making sure that nobody was there.

"We should be in the clear. I apologize for the false alarm, my love."

"It’s perfectly fine; better safe than sorry. Anyway, should we get back to what we were doing~?"

"Gladly." Neuvillette said in a low tone, smiling at you.

Raising your arms above your head with one of his hands, Neuvillette tilted your chin up with the other, leaning back in to fervently kiss you once more. You let him fully take control, allowing him to do what he liked with you.

By the time you two were done, you had bite marks all over your neck, and a blush across your face.

"Well, it’s getting late, isn’t it? Would you like me to walk you to your room?" Neuvillette asked you.

"Of course, anything to spend a little more time with you."

Walking hand in hand, Neuvillette led you to your room. In the past, it used to be a small storage room but was remodeled into a living space for you. After Neuvillette hired you, he insisted that you needed a room inside the building for your convenience. However, now that you were in a relationship with him, he admitted that it was also partly because he wanted to be closer to you.

Giving Neuvillette a quick kiss on the lips, you bid him farewell, before shutting the door. Just as you were about to lay down, you noticed an envelope that had been pushed under the door. It was addressed to you. Picking it up, you sat down on your bed and began to tear it open.

Once you saw the contents of the envelope, your eyes widened in horror. In your hands, you held many different photographs. Those pictures included the red marks on your neck, you and Neuvillette holding hands, hugging, and him pinning you against the wall. They all had something in common. They were evidence. Somebody had figured it out.

Under the photographs, there was a note. It read:

"Dear [Name],

As you could probably tell by those pictures, I know of your intimate relationship with Neuvillette. You two really are awful at keeping secrets, aren’t you? I have copies of all of those photos, by the way. There’s no point in destroying them. I intend to publish an article about you two to The Steambird. The only thing that will stop me from exposing your romantic feelings for one another to the entirety of Fontaine is if you keep your distance from Neuvillette, as you should’ve done to begin with. A Chief Justice shouldn’t be involved with one of his employees; he ought to have better standards than that.

You wouldn’t want me to spread false rumors and ruin his reputation, would you? Even if he insists that his reputation doesn’t matter, deep down, I’m sure he worries about it. Yes, I overheard that conversation of yours. A Chief Justice needs to be trusted by the people; even a child knows that. Who would trust him if he’s messing around with the lower class? I could also ruin your name as well by posting the article I have prepared. I thank you sincerely for the idea to frame you as a gold digger; it was truly brilliant.

If you don’t decide to stay away from your beloved Neuvillette, Fontaine will know him as a pervert who flirts with his servants for his own amusement and pleasure. As for you, you’ll be known as the servant who went along with it because of his status and money. And don't even think about telling Neuvillette about this letter; I have eyes everywhere. I will know if you speak with him.

You wouldn’t want to hurt Neuvillette, would you? If you truly love him, you’ll keep your distance."

You could feel your heart quickly beating in panic. You had no idea what to do. What could even be done about it?

That night, your dreams were stressful and scary, and you were still extremely anxious when you woke up in the morning. The idea that someone out there knew about you and Neuvillette, and could ruin both of your names in a second if they wished made your blood run cold.

Over the next week or so, you tried to avoid Neuvillette as much as possible. That letter was living rent-free in your head, and despite wanting to spend more time with the Chief Justice, you were terrified at the possibility that your relationship could be exposed at the snap of the blackmailer’s fingers. You barely spoke to Neuvillette outside of the small talk you had while completing your tasks each day, making up excuses for why you were so detached from him.

Neuvillette was quite confused, and he began to worry if he had done something wrong. That was often the first thing he assumed when you were acting odd, as it was the thing he dreaded most. If he accidentally hurt you, he wouldn’t know how to forgive himself.

After a couple more days passed and you were still avoiding him, he tried to ask you about it.

"[Name], my love? Is there a reason why I’ve barely gotten to see you these days? Have I done something wrong?"

"Ah—no. I have volunteer work for.. uh.. the Adventurer’s Guild. Yeah." You said hurriedly.

"The Adventurer’s Guild? Since when did you join them? If you’re low on mora, I can give you some. It’s no bother to me." Neuvillette replied, reaching into his pockets.

"Oh no, no. My mora is fine. I just volunteered for the good of Fontaine, you know? The work is its own reward."

"How kind of you; that really is a good way to look at things. In that case, I won’t keep you. Good luck while volunteering; don’t get hurt." Neuvillette gave you a quick kiss, bidding you farewell.

The look that Neuvillette gave you made you feel bad for lying, and in the end, you did actually end up going to volunteer at the Adventurer’s Guild. After a long day of fighting monsters and solving strange puzzles, you were ready to collapse on your bed.

What you didn’t expect was for there to be another envelope slid under your door. Opening it, you found a photo taken of Neuvillette kissing you earlier. Your heart skipped a beat, and as expected, there was another letter from the blackmailer.

This time, the note written by the person was much shorter. It simply read:

"Didn’t I tell you to keep your distance? This is a warning."

Your heart began to beat faster, and you were beginning to feel anxious again. You so badly wanted to run into Neuvillette’s office, throw yourself into his arms, and inform him of what was going on, but you couldn’t. The blackmailer would find out, and both you and Neuvillette would have false rumors spread about you all across Fontaine.

You hated that you were avoiding Neuvillette; it really hurt. Unfortunately, the blackmailer had scared you to your very core. You didn’t want to harm Neuvillette at all, and you knew if the article was published to The Steambird, it would severely damage his reputation and image. After all, what is a judge without the trust of his people?

You spent yet another sleepless night tossing and turning, unable to calm the worry in your mind.

Over the next week, Neuvillette tried on multiple occasions to talk to you, but you declined each time, making excuses such as:

"Sorry, I’m busy!"

"I can't right now; I have work at the Adventurer's Guild."

"Neuvillette, I’m really tired; can we speak another time?"

"I’m late for a meeting with a friend; I have to go."

You felt so bad that you had to do this. You never intended to hurt Neuvillette, but you slowly began to realize that you were causing him harm anyway. Every time you denied him, you could see the light in his eyes die, and he forced himself to smile gently. He would always reply with something along the lines of:

"Ah, I see. We’ll talk some other time, then."

One weekend, you looked out the window of your room, and it had begun pouring. Your eyes widened. Neuvillette was the Hydro Dragon, and it was said in folklore that when it rained, it meant he was crying. Neuvillette was a closed off man when it came to his negative emotions, even with you.

The rain made your heart ache; you knew it was your fault. You knew that the reason he was crying was because of you. That realization hurt like nothing else. In trying to protect him from harm, you had accidentally done the exact opposite. Even with your worries and regrets, you knew that you couldn’t go and comfort Neuvillette, despite how much you wanted to. The blackmailer would immediately publish that article if you did.

You felt so pathetic. What kind of partner would you be if you couldn't even comfort your boyfriend in his most vulnerable state? And what kind of partner lies to and avoids the other for weeks on end? The feeling in your chest was overwhelmingly awful.

Even so, you didn’t do anything. You were stuck. Your two options were equally bad. The rain went on and on, and you felt extreme sorrow even looking at it. You felt like a failure, like you were useless. You couldn’t even protect the one you loved most.

It was still raining when you went to bed that night.

The next evening, there was a gentle knock at your door. Getting up, you opened it, only to find Neuvillette waiting outside your door. In that instant, so many thoughts went through your head. You felt like you were being watched by the blackmailer.

"Good evening, [Name]. May I come in? I wish to have a chat with you." Neuvillette said, very clearly wearing a fake smile.

Even with the threat of the blackmailer, you couldn’t help it. You wanted to talk to him again.

"Uhm.. yeah, sure, Neuvillette." You said awkwardly, permitting him to enter.

Once the door was closed, Neuvillette spared no time in getting to his question. "Have I done something wrong? Answer me truthfully this time. You have been avoiding me for around three weeks now. I can’t imagine why else you would do such a thing."

"Neuvillette, no. You didn’t do anything. Trust me. This has to do with something else. I’m so sorry if I’ve hurt you." You spoke, looking away from him.

"What is keeping you from me?"

That question really made your heart start to beat, and the panic was evident on your face. "It’s nothing important."

Neuvillette took your hands in his. "[Name], you can tell me anything. I’m not mad at you; I’m just worried. I’m your boyfriend; we can depend on each other. Whatever you’re going through, we can work through it together."

Finally, looking up into his eyes, you couldn’t take it anymore. You had to tell him. You could feel tears starting to fill your eyes. "I'm being blackmailed, Neuvillette."

Neuvillette’s eyes widened, and for a moment, he didn’t say anything. He was absolutely shocked.

"What?"

You had finally said something. Just as your words had been held back for so long, so had your tears. They rolled down your cheeks, and even further down your neck.

"I’m so sorry I didn’t tell you sooner. I should’ve, but I was scared. And I still am. I’m really scared, Neuvillette." You said, wiping at your tears.

"No, no.. [Name], it’s okay. Don’t be hard on yourself. It’s not your fault. Who has been blackmailing you? And with what?" Neuvillette’s gaze was concerned, and he stroked your hair as you cried.

"The letters are over on my desk.." You managed to get out between sobs.

Getting up for a moment, Neuvillette went over to look at them. His emotions went from concern to anger at what he saw. Who would dare to hurt and threaten you like that? Rage boiled in his chest, but he tried to keep his composure for your sake.

"Whoever did this will get what’s coming to them." Neuvillette spoke softly, embracing you once more. "I promise you."

You were still crying; it felt good to let it all out after bottling up your feelings for so long. Neuvillette kissed away your tears, and his hands began stroking your hair again.

Once you had stopped crying, he gently asked, "Will you be alright if I leave for a minute? I do wish to keep comforting you, but I have a feeling that the criminal is nearby, and I wish to catch them. Is that okay?"

You nodded, and after a short yet passionate kiss, Neuvillette walked out of the room. In his peripheral vision, he spotted a strange man, but he pretended not to notice and walked the other way. Once he was sure the stranger was walking away, he began to quietly trail them.

After a short walk, the man opened a door and walked inside. Silently, Neuvillette slipped into the room behind him. The man didn’t notice until Neuvillette locked the door.

"Can you explain to me what business you had blackmailing [Name]?"

The man was shocked to hear the Chief Justice’s voice, but he kept a confident smirk on his face as he turned to him. "A person of high status like you should not be involved with someone like them. Someone of a lower class. I’m doing you and Fontaine a favor by scaring them off."

The expression on the man’s face made Neuvillette even more angry. Neuvillette was not the kind of person to solve problems through violence, but in that moment, he couldn’t resist.

He grabbed the man by the neck and shoved him against the wall. With all his might, Neuvillette slammed his fist into the side of the man’s skull over and over. Then, Neuvillette moved down to punch him in the stomach, effectively winding him and causing him to fall to the ground.

Neuvillette’s hands were injured, but it was nothing compared to the state of the person before him. Neuvillette’s gloves had little golden spikes on the knuckles, which had left the man’s face bloodied and ugly.

Grabbing some handcuffs from his pocket, Neuvillette restrained the man’s hands behind his back. Why did Neuvillette have handcuffs at the ready when he had no idea he would be dealing with a criminal beforehand? That can be left up to the imagination.

Still not totally satisfied, Neuvillette gave the man a sharp kick to the face before walking over to his desk. There, he found the article and photos that were described in the letters. He picked them up and resisted the urge to destroy them then and there. It would be crucial to have them for evidence.

Once he had gathered all the things he needed, he looked down at the man on the floor and coldly said, "Get up. I’m going to hand you over to the police. If you resist, I’m going to assume that you haven’t taken enough of a beating already."

After a while, Neuvillette walked back into your room. You looked up at him expectantly, and he smiled at you.

"Everything is okay now, darling. The man has been arrested."

Neuvillette brought you into his embrace and laid down with you. You wrapped your arms around his waist, so glad to finally get to feel a type of comfort you hadn’t felt in weeks.

"I love you, Neuvillette."

"I love you too, [Name]. You’re safe with me."

You listened to the slow rhythm of Neuvillette’s heartbeat, breathing in his calming scent as you fell asleep. That was the first night in three weeks that you didn’t have nightmares. You felt truly okay again.

[beautyiindeath]

stuck with you ✧ ˚ · . rafe cameron x fem!reader

summary: after crash landing in barbados, you find yourself taken hostage at the hands of mr. singh. determined to get what he wants, he traps you in room with rafe cameron…

cw: 18+ (minors dni). heavy smut. fingering. oral sex. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. choking. name calling.

word count: 3.4k !

As if crash landing into the ocean in a derelict helicopter wasn’t bad enough, you ended up being separated from your friends and thrown into the back of a truck by a group of armed guards. They bound your wrists behind your back with rope and we’re positioned all around you, they’re guns pointing at you from all angles.

It was a set up from the start. After surviving on an isolated island for months, you were growing tired of the initial thrill and the desperation to go home grew each day. Luck seemed to come your way when a helicopter passing by turned around and agreed to take you and your friends back home. But it was a set up from the start. The man who’d picked you up was well aware of you who all were. You’d figured that out after JJ went snooping in his bag.

After the helicopter crashed into the ocean, your friends were quick to swim away, but you couldn’t leave the man to drown so you hauled him onto the beach. He apologised then, saying he had struck a deal with someone. He had been promised a big cash reward from the handover. But your friends had managed to escape, leaving only one of you as the cash prize. The whole situation had Ward Cameron written all over it.

You struggled against your restraints, the rope digging into your skin. “What has Ward Cameron promised you?” You asked the guards around you. None of them replied, they just sent deathly glares your way.

You glanced towards the one who looked the kindest, pleading as best you could with your eyes, willing him to answer.

“We don’t know of a Ward Cameron.” He said. After he didn’t elaborate any further, you spoke up again.

”Listen… I don’t know who you think I am, but if this truly has nothing to do with Ward Cameron, then you have the wrong person.”

You felt a sharp twang against the side of your head as the larger guard hit you with the end of his rifle, “Keep quiet or I’ll gag your mouth as well as your hands.”

Not wanting to add fire to the fuse, you shut up. The rest of the journey continued in an awkward silence, and after what felt like forever, the truck eventually came to a stop.

There were even more armed guards, some equipped with dogs that snarled and cared their teeth when you walked past. Every inch of the property was covered, if you tried to escape, you’d get nowhere. You were hauled out by your arms, and taken across the threshold into a large mansion.

Two guards led you up a winding staircase and shoved you into a bedroom. The rude guard from earlier untied your wrists.

”There’s a shower and some clothes over there. I suggest you clean up before you meet with Mr. Singh,” he scrunched his nose in disgust, “You smell like shit.”

He turned on his heel and left the room, locking the door behind him. After checking every window, and finding they were locked, you admitted defeat and decided to take advantage of the shower.

After bathing in salty water for months without soap, it felt good to step into a hot shower. You scrubbed the grime off your body, shampooed and conditioned your hair three times until it no longer felt sore and itchy.

Like the man had said, there was a wardrobe to the side of the bedroom with a section of the same red dress. You picked out the one in your size and pulled it over your body. The soft silky material felt nice against your skin. You tore dried your hair and let the waves fall naturally down your back.

Then you went and laid on the bed, staring up a the ceiling for what felt like hours. A knock at the door interrupted you from your daydream.

”Mr. Singh is ready to see you now.” A voice boomed from the other side of the door. You rose from the bed when you heard the lock click open. The guards grabbed ahold of your arms and dragged you across the hall and down the stairs to the ground floor. They led you into a large office towards the right hand side, the shut the door behind them and stood guard at either side.

A buzzcut man was stood by the window, their back facing you. “Excuse me?” You started.

The man turned around and you were met with that face of Rafe Cameron. It had taken a moment for you to recognise him, he looked different without his signature locks.

”What the fuck?” You grimaced.

He sauntered across the room, his finger jutted out towards you. “I swear to God, you’d better not be here to mess up my deal.” He spat.

”What deal? I have no idea what you’re talking about.“

Before Rafe could respond, a thick Barbados accent spoke from across the room. A sharp looking man walked over. “What a lovely reunion between friends. Take a seat, both of you.”

“We’re not friends.” You and Rafe said at the same time. You sat down on the couch. Rafe took a seat in the one furthest from you, his eyes glaring in your direction. Mr. Singh let out a low chuckle and sat in front of the two of you.

“I’m going to get straight to business,” He looked over at you as he said this, “I know you have the diary. Just hand it over and I will let you go. Nobody has to get hurt if you play by my rules.”

You played it cool, and tried to sound as convincing as possible.

”I’m sorry to disappoint you, Mr. Singh. But I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t got a diary. Unless you count my own… which I doubt it the one you’re after.”

Mr. Singh tutted, sucking his teeth as he shook his head in disagreement. “I know you know the diary I’m talking about. And I know you have it. How else would you know about the gold?”

”I don’t have the diary. I’m sure your guards can attest to that after they vigorously searched me earlier and found nothing.” You said.

“You might not have the diary on you, but you know where it is. Just tell me the location and I can have my men go get it. Once it’s in my hands, you’re both free to go.”

Rafe rose from his seat on the couch, heading over towards the door. “I came here to cut a deal. If I’m not getting that, then I’m leaving. I don’t appreciate my time being wasted.” He huffed.

The guards were quick to point their guns at him. He stepped back, his hands up in surrender.

”Mr. Cameron… I know you’re aware of the diary I’m talking about too. Maybe you’ll have better luck getting the truth out of her.” Mr. Singh signalled towards his guards and they took hold of both you and Rafe. “Take them upstairs. Don’t let them out until they decide to talk.”

As you were being dragged out of the office and back towards the stairs, Mr. Singh called out to you again, “If you don’t have the answer I want in 24 hours, your friends will die.” He smirked, holding up his phone which showed a photo of Sarah and John. B tied up.

”Let them go !” You shouted as the guard threw you over his shoulder and carried you up the stairs, his grip tight on you as you thrashed around.

You were thrown into the same bedroom as earlier, along with Rafe. The door locked behind you. “Let me out !” You started shouting, banging your fists against its wooden frame.

”Will you shut the fuck up.” Rafe hissed as you continued banging on the door. You ignored him and he grabbed ahold of your arm and yanked you away from it. You shook him off and cast him a dirty look.

”No matter how much noise you make, they aren’t going to listen.” He sighed.

“Do you even care that he has your sister hostage?”

”Of course I care.”

You scoffed at him, “Then why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

He rolled his eyes at you, growing irritated with your attitude. “I don’t see you doing anything either. I know you have that diary. If you care about them that badly, tell the truth.”

You sighed, running your hands through your hair. The diary was back at the chateau, you could easily tell Singh, but you knew that your friends wouldn’t want that. They’d find a way out, right? They always did.

Standing by the window, you looked out across the horizon, the sun was already starting to set. You bit down on your lip, trying to hold back your tears.

“Anyone out there?” Rafe asked, standing beside you as he drew back the curtain.

”Get lost.” You spat.

”We’re locked in a room together. I cant go anywhere even if I wanted too.”

You moved away from him and went to sit on the bed, your head in your hands.

Rafe leaned against the window frame, looking at you as he debated over what to say.

”Look around. I’m the only friend you have.” He knelt down in front of you, his hands touching your knees as he looked up at you.

”We are not friends.” You glared, shaking his hands off.

He didn’t move from his spot but he didn’t put his hands back on you. “You know what I mean. Maybe if we work together, we can get out of her quicker.”

“I’d rather walk over hot rocks than work with you.”

“Suit yourself. Don’t blame me if your friends end up dead at your behest.” He stood up and started pacing the room, mumbling things under his breath.

Lying back on the bed, you reached for a pillow and screamed into it, letting out your frustration in the only way you could.

”So, where’s the diary?” Rafe asked after a few minutes of silence.

“As if I’d tell you. You’re just here to try and weasel the answer out of me for him. But your little game isn’t going to work.”

”You really think I’m on his side? Why the fuck would I willingly lock myself in a room with you?”

You shrugged at him. “Just shut up, Rafe. I’m sick of hearing your voice.”

Yawning, you rolled over and closed your eyes. “You’re sleeping at a time like this? Damn… your friends really mustn’t mean that much to you.” Rafe pestered.

”I’m resting my eyes.” You hissed.

*****

The sound of the door locking startled you. You glanced over at the window, the night sky looking back at you. You must’ve fallen asleep. The bathroom door was shut and you could hear Rafe fumbling around in there.

You remembered seeing some pajamas in the wardrobe earlier, and decided to change into them whilst he was gone. Shedding the red dress off your body, you looted around in the drawer, trying to find something that would fit and keep you both comfortable and cool in the heat. You’d just finished pulling up the bottoms when Rafe walked back in, wearing only his boxers. He caught you staring at him for longer than necessary, a dry snicker leaving his lips. You looked away, pretending it hadn’t happened.

”You don’t have to act all shy.” He smirked.

Still facing the wall, you refused to look at him. “Put some clothes on.”

”In case you haven’t noticed, there’s nothing in here for me to wear. And I’m not falling asleep in my suit. So you’ll have to deal with it.”

You sighed in defeat, staring out into the darkness. The air suddenly felt very hot.

”You cant stand there all night avoiding me.”

”Yes I can.”

Rafe chuckled to himself. Enjoying the fact that wearing only his boxers was having such an effect on you. He moved across the room to stand behind you. His skin mere centimetres away from yours. You could feel your heart pounding as his ran his fingers up your bare arms, causing you to shiver.

“Cold?” Rafe whispered, his lips brushing against your ear. “Maybe I should warm you up…” His hands snaked around your waist as he span you around to face him, your breath hitched in your throat. With his body pressed against your own, you could feel his abs through the thin material of the pajamas. You started at the ground, refusing to make eye contact.

”Look at me.” He spoke in a soft voice.

Swallowing the lump in your throat, you cautiously looked up to meet his gaze. His piercing blue eyes stared back at you. Both your chest moved in sync, the air the room felt suffocating as you tried to hold your composure. As much as you despised him, there was no denying that Rafe was an attractive man. Right now all you wanted to do was fuck him.

“Looks like we’re going to be trapped here for a while.” He smirked, not breaking eye contact.

The confidence you had earlier was completely shattered and you found yourself feeling flustered, not knowing how to respond.

Rafe’s hands kneaded the skin on your hips, his fingers snaking up your sides underneath the silk camisole. “W-We shouldn’t.” You stuttered. Both of you knew this was getting dangerous.

“It’s just us in here. Nobody else will know.”

Unable to fight it any longer, you crashed your lips into his, desperate for the taste of him. The kiss was hungry, his tongue sliding into your mouth. He guided you backwards, towards the bed, laying you down on your back.

Rafe pulled away from this kiss, his lips attacking to your skin as he ducked and nibbled on your collarbones. A small whimper left your lips. His body hovered over yours as he looked down at you. His eyes hungry.

”You look so good beneath me.” He rasped.

Bringing his lips back to your skin, he kissed down your chest, his soft hands pushing the straps of the camisole down your shoulders. You tugged the bottoms off yourself whilst he pulled the silky shirt down past your breasts.

His lips were quick to attach themselves to your left breast, as his took your nipple in his mouth. You gasped, arousal coursing through you. With his other hand caressing your other breast, he continued sucking on your breast, taking the hardening nub between his teeth.

Reaching up, you pulled him closer to you, desperate to feel his skin against yours. Rafe reached down between your thighs, running his fingers over your panties. You tensed up at his touch. You stomach twisted and turned.

“Relax.” He cooed, as he slid his hands underneath the lace. His fingers brushed against your clit, causing you to let out a small moan.

“Does that feel good?” He gruffed, his fingers sliding in between your folds.

You hummed in response, bucking your hips up at his touch as he slid in a singular finger. With his lips still attached to your breast, he started jutting his finger in and out of your pussy. “More.” You pleaded.

”More what?” He teased.

”Fingers,” You mewled. “More fingers.”

He smirked, sliding another finger inside of you. “We shouldn’t be doing this right now.” You said.

”Want me to stop?”

You whimpered when he went stoic, taking his lips from around your aching nipple.

”No. Don’t stop.”

He pulled your panties off in one swift movement and started pumping his fingers inside you, curling them up at the knuckle to fuck you at a more pleasurable angle. He rubbed your clit with his thumb, circling it around the sensitive nub, making you moan.

”Does that feel good?” He hummed as he watched you, all hot and flustered from his touch.

You responded by moaning his name and bucking up your hips against his hand.

Testing the waters to see how far you could for for him, he snaked his free hand up your chest, wrapping it around the base of your throat. Feeling the vibrations of a hum against his palm, he gripped tighter. His cock grew harder.

You whimpered as he pulled his fingers out, your juices slick all over them. You watched as he brought them to his mouth, sucking them clean. He tugged his boxers down, and your eyes widened as he cock sprang free. He was bigger than you’d imagined.

Rafe took his shaft in his hand, lining it up at your core, his top circling around your hole, causing you to quiver.

”Stop teasing me.” You whined, your body aching for him.

He guided himself inside your hole slowly, you winced as a twinge of pain pulsed through your pussy as he stretched you out.

“You can take it.” He encouraged, sliding himself further inside your tight walls. He bit down on his lip as he let out a low groan.

Unable to control his urges, he thrust forward, filling you up. Your walls tightened around him. “Fuck.” Rafe hissed. “You’re so tight.”

You arched your back in pleasure and wrapped your legs around his hips, desperate to pull him in closer.

Rafe brought his other hand to your throat, pressing down harshly as he fucked you raw. You moaned out loudly as his cock hit the pit of your stomach.

“Louder. Let me hear you.” He grunted between thrusts.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head and your head went foggy, you were coming close to your high. You moaned out his name through jagged breaths, each one getting more hoarse as you struggled to take in oxygen.

You felt the familiar knot in your stomach as your legs began to shake. You let out a wail as an intense orgasm rushed through you. Your hands were on Rafe’s back, your nails digging deep into his skin as you rode out the high.

You gasped for air when he let go of your throat, coughing slightly at the dry taste left in your mouth. Rafe held onto your hips as he flipped you both over, so that you were straddling him.

Holding onto his shoulders for support, you ground against his hips, moving in sync with his thrusts.

“Oh God.” You moaned as you felt the start of another orgasm coming on.

You threw your head back and bathed in the intense pleasure coursing through your body.

“Still hate me?” Rafe panted.

”So fuckin’ much.”

”Show me how much you hate me. Make me come for you.”

You tightened your walls around his cock, taking him all. You grinded against him slowly and passionately. You felt his cock twitch inside you. He was close.

Rafe groaned, his hand gripping into the curves on your body. You rode out another orgasm, your body fighting to stay upright as it trembled. You kept grinding, desperate to make him come.

Just before his orgasm hit, Rafe pulled out of you, his cum squirting up your chest and he let out a moan. You fell back onto the bed, gasping as you struggled to catch your breath.

The two of you laid in silence. Only the sound of your chests rising and falling filled the air. Your hair was sticking to your skin as sweat dripped down your skin.

Once you felt strong enough to stand, you hauled yourself up and walked into the bathroom. You switched on the shower and stepped inside. The hot water soothed your aching body as you rinsed the sweat and cut off your skin.

You dried yourself with a towel and wrapped it around your figure, walking back into the bedroom. Rafe walked past you, going to take a shower himself. The two of you avoided eye contact.

Pulling on your panties, you tied your hair up and slipped under the covers. You shut your eyes and started drifting off to sleep.

The feeling of movement beside you unsettled you. “What are you doing?” You hummed as Rafe got under the covers.

”Going to bed.” He answered.

You pulled one of the pillows from under you, stuffing it between the two of you. “Don’t cross this line.”

Rafe snickered, “We just fucked and now you’re placing a pillow between us?”

”Yes. So much as breathe too close to me and I’ll make you sleep on the floor.”

You closed your eyes again, pulling the covers up to your chin and drifted off to sleep.

When you woke up the next morning, the pillow was on the floor and you were nuzzled up against Rafe’s body.

[ereardon]

Before I Knew [Jake Seresin x Reader] Chapter Five

A Jake Seresin unexpected pregnancy fic

Overview: On your first night after moving to San Diego to spend more time with your brother Bob, you unknowingly have a one night stand with his teammate Jake Seresin. For the first time in his whole life, Bob has a closely knit friend group and you’re desperate not to rock the boat. But an unexpected and unplanned pregnancy upends your world, forcing you and Jake closer together, against Bob’s wishes. What will happen when you find yourself actually falling for the father of your unborn child? 

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Reader; Bob Floyd x Sister!Reader 

Warnings: Pregnancy, cursing, eventual smut, angst

Chapter summary: Jake and Ducky dance around each other the morning after the big fight; Bob overhears a conversation he shouldn't

Masterlist here; previous chapter here

The silence was deafening. Just as Bob opened his mouth to speak, a crack of lightning broke across the sky, the loud bang following a few seconds later. You were used to counting the seconds between lightning and thunder. Back in Tennessee, that was something you learned as a kid, how to tell how many miles away the storm was. That felt like a million years ago. The easy innocence of being a child was a million miles away. 

Jake looked at the floor. Bob looked at you, eyes wide but words caught in his throat. 

You shook your head, tears falling slowly down your cheeks. “I deserve more,” you whispered softly. “We both do.” And then you turned on your heel and walked to the bedroom, locking the door behind you, sealing them out. 

***

You could hear Jake in the living room. Pacing. You laid in bed as long as possible, but you had to face the day. Gently, you eased open the door, the bright light of the living room invading your senses. 

“Y/N.” Jake’s voice cracked. You turned to see him standing at the kitchen counter, both hands on the quartz island top. “Listen, about last night—”

You cut him off. “I’m sorry I came over,” you said, picking up your purse from the ground. “It won’t happen again.” 

“It’s OK,” Jake whispered. 

You turned to him. He looked scared. Green eyes soft and warm and terrified. “I need you to know I never meant for this to happen,” you said quietly. “It was an accident. But I’m tired of running from my mistakes. I have to grow up.” 

Jake was quiet. Then, “For what it’s worth,” he said, “I’m sorry.” 

“So am I.” You reached for the door. “I’ll see you later.” 

“Let me drive you home.” 

You shook your head. “I need to walk. Clear my head.” 

He frowned. “Bob’s house is way too far to walk.” 

“I’ll be fine.” You scrambled out of the door before Jake could protest again. The air was fresh and clean the way it can only be after a hard rainstorm. 

Every step felt like a penance. You couldn’t shake the way Bob had looked. So quietly devastated. 

All you could hear was the pounding of blood in your ears, but after a while you felt a presence on your left and you stopped, turning with wide eyes. Jake pulled his Jeep up next to you on the shoulder of the road. “What the hell are you doing here?” you asked. 

“Get in the car.” 

“No.” 

“Get in the fucking car, Y/N,” he demanded. 

“I’m fine walking.” 

Jake sighed. “I can’t in good conscience let the woman pregnant with my child walk by herself on the highway. Now get in the truck. Please.” The last word was strained. You could hear the pain and exhaustion in his voice. Against your better judgment you pulled open the door handle, sliding into the passenger seat. Jake let out a ragged sigh, yanking the car into drive. 

A silence enveloped the car. Just the sound of the bumpy road and the tires screeching against asphalt and your heart pounding in your ears and Jake’s labored breaths on the driver’s side of the truck. You kept your eyes glued to the windshield, his fingers tight across the steering wheel. 

When Jake pulled into Bob’s driveway you gulped. Bob’s truck was there. You hadn’t let yourself think about what would happen when you went back. Jake cut the power and the two of you sat in silence for a moment before he said, “Do you want me to come in with you?” 

“That would be a suicide mission.” 

“I’m not afraid of Floyd.”

“Well you should be.” You unbuckled your seat belt and sighed. “I’ll be fine.” 

“Y/N.” Jake’s hand was hot on yours as your palm slipped against the leather seat and you pulled away, leaving him leaning over the center console in the truck. “You can call me,” he said. “If you want me to pick you up. Or you need to talk.” 

You closed the door. The window was still rolled down, Jake’s face framed perfectly between the metal sides. “I know you’re trying to do what you think is right,” you whispered. “But so am I.” 

You turned before you could see Jake’s face. Inside, the house was dark. A part of you had expected Bob to be sitting in the living room, waiting for you to come home. The way he had when you were a preteen and got home late from your first date. But instead, the house was quiet. Eerily quiet. 

In your room, you sat on the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. 

What had you done? 

***

You had dated a few guys in college, but you thought you were going to marry the last one. 

Peter. He had been tall and handsome. A political science major from Washington. His family were WASPs. They did things like rent out private villas in the US Virgin Islands and go golfing with senators in Chevy Chase. 

He took you home to meet them during spring break of senior year. You hadn’t known what to expect. Surely not a mansion in Palisades overlooking the Potomac. Not a three-story marble foyer and little sisters in Gucci mules with matching sweater sets and cocktails at six o’clock sharp and grandparents who didn’t hug. It was miles and miles away from the life you and Bob lived with your mother — hand-me-down quilts and warm nights by the fire playing Settlers of Catan and reruns of Desperate Housewives on the background as you stirred soup at the stove and summer nights spent frolicking in the tall grass behind your high school with a few bottles of beer and someone’s playlist echoing loudly from the open doors of a parked car. 

Peter lived in an alternate universe. And still, a part of you thought you were going to marry him. 

It wasn’t until a week before graduation when you realized it was over. 

“I want to be a mom,” you said. Peter looked up from his drink, eyes wide. “Not now,” you rushed out. “But eventually.” 

He set his rocks glass down. “Baby,” he whispered. “I don’t want kids. They’re just not for me.” 

That was the beginning of the end. You watched the light drain from his eyes and he watched the hope leach out of yours. By graduation morning you had broken up, and that afternoon you were one of the first cars to peel out of the parking lot, headed East to Chattanooga, the tears filling your eyes, making it hard to see. 

You had known all along you wanted to be a mother. Have a family. But you had mistakenly thought you’d do it in the right order. First comes love then comes marriage, then comes baby in the baby carriage. 

You had never been so wrong. 

***

Bob was always the first person to apologize after a fight. He would knock on your door with a sleeve of Oreos hidden behind his back as a peace offering or offer to take a midnight drive in the country with the windows rolled down and the music blaring until finally you were calm enough to talk. 

You were the hot head and Bob was the even tempered one. 

Until now. 

For two days you danced around each other. You got up after he had left. He was in his room by the time you came home. You had taken the library job. It was a small library near the beach with a daily reading session for kids that you had volunteered to lead. Even though Bob said it was a waste of your talent and degree, there was something so nice and calm about going into the library and settling into a pile of books, helping to set up the coloring station in the corner, assisting older people with finding the right book or manual. 

On the third day, you came home from the library with a tote bag full of parenting books to find the Dagger Squad in the living room. You stopped dead in your tracks as the room was enveloped in silence. 

One look at their faces and you knew that they knew. Jake was conspicuously absent. 

“Hi,” you squeaked, stepping into the hallway. “I’ll just get out of your way.” 

“Y/N.” Phoenix’s voice cut through the stiff air. “Let’s chat.” 

It felt like a Bachelor moment where the contestant steals the bachelor on a group date. But this time no one else was interested in speaking to you. Least of all Bob, who sat in the corner with his face turned down toward his shoes. 

Outside, the warm air licked at your face. You and Phoenix settled into the two Adirondack chairs Bob had set out on the back deck. She turned to you. “I just wanted to say, congrats.” 

“You know you’re the first person who has said that to me,” you replied. It felt like a weight being lifted off your shoulders. 

“I know Floyd is having a hard time with this,” Phoenix said. “But he’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t?” you whispered. 

Her face softened. “He will. He has to. I’ve known Floyd for two years now and there’s only three things I know for sure. First, that Hangman will never beat me in a race. Second, that he might try and hide it but I’m pretty sure Bradshaw’s middle name is Joy. And third, that Bob loves you more than anything in the world. He’s gone on and on about his perfect little sister so much that we all felt like we knew you before you even showed up on North Island.” 

“I’m not perfect,” you said quietly. “Nowhere near it.” 

“Does it matter?” Phoenix asked. “He loves you. You’re the one thing he cares most about.” 

“Then why doesn’t he care that he’s hurting me?”

“He’s too stuck to realize it. He thinks that he let you down.”

“He has let me down,” you said. “Not because he let me get pregnant. That was never his decision to make. His reaction to all of this, that’s the only time I’ve ever felt let down by my brother in my entire life. It’s the one time I’ve ever found myself wondering what a life without him would be like. It’s made a part of me hate him.” 

The sound of the door sliding open caught both of your attention. You and Phoenix turned to see Bob with his head poking out the sliding glass door, ears red, eyes wide. He had heard you.

Every last, terrible word. 

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