#thank you for your patience and for the asks anyway i enjoyed doing this

[tiredmamaissy]

Ralak te Sepawn ieyk’itan: Special Episode VI 

Labor of Love - Part II

Masterlist ; Rut/Heat/Knotting Info

🔞 minors, do not interact 🔞

Hyperlinks are attached to specific paragraphs that when clicked on will lead you to its illustration by Ralak's insanely talented creator @zestys-stuff. Thank you so much for allowing me to play around with your characters!

Characters: Metkayina!Ralak (25) x Sully!Omaticaya!Reader (20) featuring Metkayina!Zu’té (29)

Warnings: zero smut, angst angst angst, mention of past trauma, expletives, pregnancy, contractions, heavily described labour, blood, mild physical violence, reader is really going through it, ralak is too but he'll be alright i promise, brother!neteyam makes a star appearance, cute family fluff, let me know if i forgot anything

Word Count: 6.5k

Requested: Yes || No

Author’s Note: Hope you're enjoying your tour in angst town...we're almost finished. You could say we're nearing the final attraction, so continue to keep your seatbelts buckled. lol why am i like this? anyways... please don't hate me for this chapter, and i will try my best to get the next one out quicker so you guys can get some closure lool :)

Synopsis: You didn't plan for things to turn out this way. But no amount of denial can make reality go away...

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And when Ralak sees it, he almost caves in on himself. His mask of indifference—of intimidation, cracks. Hell, it shatters. Into thousands of pieces, scattered at his feet. Tonowari’s previous right hand. The banished.  His karyu.

Time chips by at a torturous pace. You spend the first hour sitting on the beach, eating some fruit whilst watching what your brothers get up to. Neteyam, of course, is bearing most of the responsibility whilst Lo’ak and Tuk are taking a more easy approach to the day. Mom and dad made sure to leave them with a list of things to get done whilst they’re away—number one being to keep an eye on their sisters. 

Number one, check. 

All that floods your mind is your mate and if he’s okay. You try to process everything he’s said but it’s all too much to wrap your head around. All too new. Your brothers aren’t much help either, as they claim to be ‘out the loop’ as much as you are. You know it's bullshit, and probably just another thing that they’ve been ordered to keep from you so as not to ‘stress you out’. 

Regardless, it’s all you can think about. 

Until you feel your son do a flip in your womb, big enough to make you gasp. Your hands immediately fly to your belly, feeling around to gauge his position. A pressure begins to grow against your bladder. One so intense it presses into your tailbone too. The pads of your fingers sink into the skin, tapping around as you make out a leg, then a knee. A hand to the left. 

Is he…head down? You think to yourself. 

“Everything alright?” Neteyam asks, concern wrinkling his forehead.  

“Hm?” You look up, seeing the outline of his silhouette in front of the sun. 

“You okay? You’re…you look a little—”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. He’s moving a lot today.” You smile, catching Tuk excitedly running over in the corner of your eye. 

“Really? Can I feel? Please?” She squeals excitedly, falling to her knees in the sand next to you. 

“Of course, Tuk.” You smile, and place her hand on top of your stomach, right where his foot is. Only a few seconds pass by until your son gives Tuk a strong kick, making her mouth open with glee. 

“Wow! Tey, you gotta feel this!” Tuk exclaims, tugging your brother by the hand so he’s next to you too. Neteyam looks at you, unsure if you’re okay with it. You nod with a gentle smile, tugging his hand over to the other side of your stomach. His hand hovers as he hesitates for a moment, this is his first time feeling his nephew move. He gives you a final look, and gently rests his hand on your belly

A few moments pass and nothing. 

“Aww, he stopped moving.” Tuk sighs with a pout. 

“Patience, Tuk.” You whisper, feeling him kick on cue. Her face lights up with a beaming smile and Neteyam seems to be in awe with wide eyes and slightly parted lips. 

“Woah, y/n. Your tummy’s getting hard.” Tuk says innocently, looking at her brother to see if he feels it too. 

“Hm?” You hum, feeling a bit spaced out and achy.   

“It is.” Neteyam lets go and keeps his hands to himself, feeling like he’s invading your personal space. A heat floods your back, and you feel your thighs spasm. You begin to groan, holding your breath until the strange feeling subsides. “Hey. You okay?” 

You nod, finally release your breath, and hear Tuk’s excited voice. “It’s all soft now!” 

“All good.” You smile, but Neteyam doesn’t seem convinced at all. “Ronal says they are normal. They aren’t the real thing. Mom had them with Tuk, remember?” 

Neteyams' features soften as he nods, prying his little sister's hands off of you. “Ease up now, Tuk.” 

“Sorry, sis.” She says quietly, ears laying flat to her head. 

“Nothing to be sorry about.” You say as you roll to your side to get up, shamelessly using Neteyam to gain some momentum. “Think it’s time for me to take a walk, though.” 

“Yes, sure. Where are we going?” Neteyam asks, ready to accompany you anywhere.

“I’m going down to the rocks.” You emphasise on the first word, making it clear you need some alone time after being babysat all day. “I think Lo’ak needs some help with the net.”

Neteyam and Tuk look over to see their brother struggling with a tangled fishing net, and turn back to see that you’re already waddling down the beach. 

——

Suddenly, Ralak’s back inside of his family marui pod on his iknimaya night. Trapped. Small. Powerless. Cornered by a person he once looked up to. A person he trusted. Manipulated by her heat— her pheromones. A crime punishable by banishment. Forced to give, forced to receive. A betrayal he’ll never forget. A face he swore to himself that he would never see again. 

No wonder they ‘demanded’ his presence.

Tonowari and Ronal lose their colour when their eyes land on her. It’s been so many years. They quickly look over to Ralak, who is seemingly falling to pieces where he stands. The expression on his face is no short of pure shock and… terror. Truthfully, the last time they’d seen such an expression on his face was the deaths of his parents and spirit brother. Jake and Neytiri aren’t aware of what’s going on, but they know it must be serious for Ralak to be so…expressive. 

They can even see his shoulders heave from how hard he’s breathing, and how his face of terror quickly morphs into something of fury. Tonowari notices the way he tightens his grip on his weapon, and his eyes as they gloss over red with rage. It takes a lot to make this man blind with anger. Tonowari knows if he doesn't step in now that this could turn sour in the blink of an eye. 

——

Two.

Releasing a shaky exhale, you begin your walk back to your siblings. That was the second ‘practice’ contraction you’ve had since starting your walk, and your third since coming here with your brothers. Your waddle is becoming more sluggish with each step and the fire in your back is beginning to burn hotter rather than fade out. 

“Not now, little one.” You whisper as you caress your bump. “…please.” 

Weariness sets in as you make it halfway back, making you perch on your knees to take a break. The fire spreads from your back to your thighs, and up your stomach. You brace yourself for the tight feeling, holding your breath in the base of your chest. You grumble a little, swaying side to side until it passes, which thankfully doesn’t take more than a few seconds. 

Three.

Finally making it back to the beach, you see Neteyam and Lo’ak hauling a few sacks on their backs, with Tuk skipping behind them. You overhear Lo’ak trying to convince Neteyam to let him be with the other warriors, and Neteyam reminding him of your parents orders. They stop mid sentence when they hear your heavy, muffled footsteps, taking one look at you and knowing that something isn’t right. Lo’ak in particular, to your surprise. 

“Damn. You look exhausted.” Lo’ak says, earning a jab in the rib by Neteyams elbow. “What? She looks like she’s about to pass out.” 

“You can’t say that to a pregnant woman, skxawng [idiot].” Neteyam hisses.

“It’s fine. He’s not wrong.” You say, tail dragging low and heavy behind you. Ralak still clouds your mind, and you’re eager to know if he’s back yet. “I want to go home now. I really need to lie down.” 

Neteyam just nods, understanding that something deeper is going on. “I will take you.” 

“I got it, bro.” Lo’ak interjects, plunking the sack off his back and onto the ground.  

“Stay with Tuk.” Neteyam orders, clicking for his skimwing. 

“Why don’t you stay with Tuk?” Lo’ak snaps back. 

“Guys. Please?” You sigh, waddling towards the winged beast, throwing a leg over its tough back. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Come ‘teyam.” Neteyam smirks, making the bond with the beast and mounting it in one swift move. 

As you arrive at your marui, you see Zu’té at the outside fire pit, concentrating on not burning yet another type of meat-on-a-stick. Hearing your arrival, Zu’té turns and acknowledges your presence. He puts down the sizzling meat on a leaf, allowing the fire to continue to burn as he begins to make his way over to collect you. Neteyam and him exchange glances and silent greetings, and suddenly the air is thick. 

“Right…I’m going up. Thank you, tey. See you.” You say out of breath, giving him a quick hug.

“Let me—” Neteyam begins.

“No, I’m okay.” You cut off your brother, hualing yourself off the tsurak. 

“Right. Kìyevame [see you again soon]. If you need me, send your watchdog.” He speaks clearly, holding you by the wrist to steady you as you get off. 

“I will, tey.” You chuckle lightly and make your way to the marui. Neteyam waits patiently, making sure you get in safely. 

Zu’té is only half way there when you reach the bottom step, already offering his arm for the stairs. You sigh and shake your head, hurriedly climbing the stairs as fast as your swollen ankles will allow it. For some reason, his gesture really annoys you. Your mood is off and you feel queasy and achy—like your entire body is throbbing. 

All you want is for everyone around you to stop babying you, and let you be alone for the rest of the day. 

“I got it.” Your voice strains as you wobble ahead, leaving Zu’té and your brother behind. Neteyam remains silent for some time, locking eyes with Zu’té. 

‘Keep a close eye.’ Neteyam signs with disquiet wrinkling his forehead. Zu’té gives him a puzzled look at first, but slowly nods when he successfully deciphers the message. Neteyam nods as well and dives underwater. 

By the time Zu’té gets to the bottom step, you’re already at the top, clutching onto the railing as you lean forward in pain. You couldn’t even make it into the pod without another hitting you so soon. You take a few deep breaths rather than holding it in, waiting until the tight feeling subsides. 

Four.

Zu’té darts up the stairs to your side, offering a hand in support only to be swatted away. “What is it?”

“It is nothing.” You catch your breath and insist that it was nothing—because it was nothing, right?

His brows furrow in disbelief, a look of concern washing over his face. Zu’té allows his eyes to fall to your bulging, veiny belly for the first time, taking in the sight. “You were in pain.”

“I’m fine.” You’re short with him, stony eyes staring into his.

“Someone once told me no good comes from pretending that things don’t hurt.” 

“Well nothing’s happening until my husband is back. Okay?” You try to remain nonchalant, to believe your own words. 

He simply stares down at you for a bit, analysing your facial expression. Despite your stone cold facade, he can easily  see the fear etched into your features. Fear that this baby may come before Ralaks return and that if you allow yourself to accept reality, then it may really come true. He glances down at your hand still stuck to the side of your stomach and swallows, looking back up to you. 

“Understood.” 

“Right. Now...” You huff, contemplating if you should say what you want to say. You feel like telling him to back off—to give you some space. But he’s obviously just making sure you’re okay. “...I need to lie down. Just, keep an eye out for—” 

“My brother? Sure. Rest well.” 

——

“Ay’ana.” 

The Olo’eyktan lets out a lengthy growl, earning a look from the traitor herself. 

“Waari.” She sings with a grin, shifting her leer to his mate behind him. “Ronal.” Her eyes fall to her swollen belly, “You are expecting…again.” 

It wasn’t a, ‘congratulations’ either, no. But rather a ‘I see that you are the most vulnerable.’

Ronal scowls, hissing through her teeth. Tonowari steps in front of his mate, blocking her from Ay’ana’s view. 

It was one thing to commit kawngkem [a crime; evil deed] and be banished for it, but it’s another to seek uturu with the enemy. She is no longer considered to be among the ‘banished’, but is now the ‘enemy’. 

Ay’ana looks behind Tonowari, not at Ronal, but at the two deeper skinned, slender na’vis. She scoffs, the corner of her mouth pulling into an evil smirk, revealing her sharpened teeth. Tonowaris eyes widen when he sees that she’s completely adapted to this vile peoples’ ways by putting a file to her teeth. Her eyes flick past them to the last person, the most important. 

“Ralak.” She slowly moans his name as she peers up at him with sultry eyes, allowing her tongue to glaze over her canines. “Such a pleasure.” Ralak winces, chest heaving violently as it fills with repulsion and loathing. “Ah. I remember you being quiet, but not this quiet. Nothing to say to your karyu?”

——

A couple hours have passed and the pain is enough to disrupt your rest. The sunlight dulls with each passing minute, casting a familiar orange hue into the marui. It comes in waves, rippling through you like a bolt of lightning striking the tallest tree in the forest. Making it hard to tell yourself that things are okay—making it hard to keep things quiet. 

“Agh!” You groan suddenly, feeling another jolt of electricity shoot up your spine. It stops you in your tracks, the tracks you’ve been burning into the floor with your constant, nervous pacing. You quiet down into a whisper, “...please wait for your sempu [daddy], my child.” 

“You—uhm.” You hear Zu’té clear his throat at the door, projecting his voice so that you can hear him through the curtain, “You alright in there?”

“Mmn—yes! Fine.” You grate out, making your way back to the bed to lie down. Your feet are so sore.

“Hungry?” He asks, food in hand in the case you were. 

“‘m not.” You try to speak up, but you’re still in the height of the contraction. 

He grits his teeth, leaning into the frame of the marui door. “I didn’t burn it this time.” 

You wish you could laugh, but you can’t even muster up the strength to raise your voice.

Zu’té lingers at the door quietly, knowing plain as day that you weren’t okay. “...what about water?” 

“No...I’ve got.” You say at a normal volume, finally released from the constraints of your pain. 

You begin closing your eyes in hopes that sleep may find you, even if it's just for a few minutes. Zu’té remains at the door for a moment longer, feeling so helpless and useless. He sinks back to the floor, putting down the meat and picking up a new, special piece to weave. 

Weaving passed the time, distracting him from the tiny sounds that managed to escape your mouth. 

Until night fell, and those tiny sounds morphed into deep, lengthy groans and high pitched wails. 

——

“Let us begin.” Tonowari speaks over Ay’ana, averting all attention back to their leader, another female that goes by the name of ‘Varang’. 

She’s almost grey in colour, embellished with a red headpiece that resembles something of an ikrans wings. Her eyes narrow as she looks straight at Tonowari, standing close to his height. 

“Let us.” She hisses with a smile, leading Tonowari to a smaller, private room sectioned by a leather curtain. She motions to Ay’ana to accompany her, leaving the rest of her men to stay with the others. Tonowari lets out a soft grunt, and grits his teeth. He knows he must choose, but his mate is heavy with child and Jake has no interest in leaving his mate in such a place alone. Therefore, he must choose his right hand—Ralak. He motions with a quick tilt of his head, prompting Ralak to clutch his weapon close to his chest and follow closely behind. 

——

“Y/n.” Zu’té’s at the curtain again, half considering to pull it back and come in on his own terms. But he would never invade your privacy like that. And by the sounds of it, things are picking up. “Do you need the healer?”

“No!” You shout out of breath, wobbling to the door with a hand clutching your stomach. You lean all your weight against the wall, knowing he’s on the other side waiting. “No healer.” 

You’re drenched in sweat, sliding down the wall to sit on the floor. He hears your back slide against the surface, and he mirrors your movements, sitting on the floor too. Only a wall sits between your backs, separating you two. 

“You’re in labour.” Zu’té speaks, his poor attempt at urging you to face reality.

You know that. Of course you know that. But you don’t want it to be true—you didn’t expect it to happen this way—you didnt want it to happen this way. You take a few deep breaths, concentrating on breathing through the remainder of this horrible feeling. And when it’s finally over, you rest your head against the wall and close your eyes—leaving silence to fill the air. 

Where are you, Ralak? 

——

The room is much smaller than the one they were in, equipped with some sort of table or workbench with a few spears and bows mounted on the wall. Ralak stands quietly behind Tonowari, as does Ay’ana to Varang. 

As they negotiate the terms of the treaty, Ay’ana keeps her eyes locked onto Ralak with a smug look on her face. Her hungry eyes wander, shamelessly taking in every inch of the man before her, surprised by how much he has changed. He’s much bigger, more filled out in his warrior attire. His muscles—more defined, thicker. His skin—calloused and scarred. Inked, unlike before.

And as her eyes trail down the line between his abs they lay upon the six stripes that peak out over the band of his loincloth. Her eyes widen and glisten with greed before darting back up to his face, meeting his eyes that bore into her fearlessly. 

What’s worse is that she can see that his mind is elsewhere. 

That his mind runs on you. You’re all he’s been thinking about since he stepped off the reef. He feels deep in his heart that something isn’t right back home. That you need him. That perhaps, you’re calling for him right now, swollen and heavy with his child. 

And it bothers her. 

“It is decided, then.” Tonowari speaks in a confident tone.

“Yes, it is.” Varang’s smile is uncanny as she unsheaths a small, double edged knife from her hip. 

She grabs Tonowari by the hand, placing the blade in the middle of his palm, and closes his fingers around it. She rips it from his hand, drawing blood, and then hands Tonowari the knife and gives him her hand. He returns the unsettling act, slitting her palm. She keeps a smile on her face, locking hands with him until their blood combines and drips to their feet. 

Supposedly, it is a method of establishing some level of trust between the two. Where each has the ability to do much greater harm, but makes the deliberate choice not to. Then, when blood has been drawn, it is mixed by bringing the hands together, sealing the treaty. 

“Bound by blood.” Varang whispers, letting go of his hand to bring hers to her mouth for a taste. 

She sighs and smiles, popping a thumb in her mouth before gesturing to him that they leave. Tonowari fights the flinch on his face, disturbed by her behaviour. Ay’ana stays back, watching the two leaders exit the room. But as Ralak is about to leave behind Tonowari, Ay’ana calls for him. 

——

Another couple agonising hours pass, and you’re constantly changing positions in hopes of finding some relief. Desperation sets in, making you beg the great mother herself to guide you through this. To bring your mate back home. But there’s still no sign of his return. The night dew settles on all the surfaces around you. Pacing no longer helps, leaving you to take refuge in your bed, panting and shivering. 

No matter how much you twist and turn, your stomach only tightens more. Deep groans rip past your lips to cope with the feeling—the pain shooting through your core. Beads of sweat roll off your body at an alarming rate, soaking the sheets on your bed. You feel him move further down, his head now sitting plush in your pelvis, creating an immense pressure that’s almost unbearable. His feet press into your ribs, and with each strained breath you begin to yearn for your mate more and more. For his comforting touch. For the bond.  

“Ralak…” 

——

“Ralak.” She sings, making him stop dead in his tracks. “A word.” 

His ears tuck back and he looks at Tonowari, who gives him a begrudged nod. Ralak sighs and turns around, fixing his mask of indifference tightly to his face. He remains silent, his hand practically bonded to his spear. 

“Still tight lipped, hm? Come now, tak. That is no way to treat your karyu.” She speaks in a condescending tone, approaching him warily. 

Ralak nearly takes the bait, a heat growing in his chest so hot it makes his jaw tense. How dare she call herself that? To taint such a word? He swallows, taking a single, deep breath to recenter himself as he looks away from her. 

“I have to admit.” She steps towards him, the crown of her head meeting the bow of his shoulder. “You have grown into a fine man. You are taller than me now.”  

Ralak just looks down at her, still as stone, his mind consumed with the fact that he could be on his way home to you but this…vile creature is keeping him away. But he will do what he needs to keep you safe, even if it means to tolerate this for the time being. 

With no reaction, Ay’ana grows frustrated and begins circling him, a single finger tracing around his body. 

“You know…My body still yearns for you.” She speaks with a sultry voice, stopping at his side and bringing herself to the tips of her toes to whisper in his ear, “...especially when I’m in heat.”

For a second, Ralak succumbs to her tactics, the ones she used to use on him years ago. A memory, forcibly resurfaced, reminding him of the way she whispered in his ear on that night. It makes him feel so small. Impotent. But only for a second. Ralak recoils, stepping back to create distance between them. He towers over her, dwarfing this small, lanky woman, regaining his confidence and power. 

“Is that all?” He growls, looking her dead in the eye—facing his past with no fear. 

Facing the reason why he lived in a bottle before he met you. You. You. He can feel you. He can feel you yearn for him and he’s ready to come home to you. For this to be over. 

He’s too focused on you to even notice Ay’ana’s face of shock. Shock to know that she’s been releasing her pheromones this entire time and he’s been completely oblivious to them. Which only means one thing. 

“You’re mated.” She gasps. 

And he’s back. 

Staring at a mirror now that he is, too, in a state of shock. Ralak’s heart leaps out his chest, beating so hard that Ay’ana can hear it. How could she know that? He watches as a grin spreads across her face, ear to ear. She knows she’s got him now, despite the jealousy bubbling inside her. She could use this to her advantage—it didn’t matter to her that he’s called for, after all. 

“Using tsaheylu for such useless things.” She bellows a wicked laugh, which fades out when she sees an even more serious look on his face. A look that tells her he’s trying to mask something more, something deeper. “Oh? Is there more to it?” The twitch of his brows and quick flare to his nostrils reveals the truth. “I have to know. What is it, hm?” She nears him once more, two fingers walking up his chest. “Come now, you were never this hard to read.” 

Ralak remains silent, focusing on slowing his heart rate. 

“Is she ill?” She asks as she searches his eyes, fingers grazing across his quivering jawbone. “No, no. It’s not that.” She sighs, stepping closer and closer until his back hits the wall. He moves his head away from her touch, still looking her in the eye—refusing to be the first to break eye contact. Her eyes light up and her ears stand tall.

“She carries your child, doesn’t she?” Her eyes gloss over green with envy. “Pregnant.”

Ralak swallows his spit, the lump in the column of his throat quickly undulating. 

“There it is. I knew you would make strong babies.” Her hand slips down his chest, slithering over his abs and down to the twine of his loincloth, causing him to jolt. “Ralak.” She moans his name slowly, “Oh, Ralak. The last I see of you, you were barely covered in this vile ink with no one at your side…and now you are mated and a father to be.” Her fingers tickle the raised skin on his most intimate tattoo. “I have always longed to be bred by you.” Her fingers attempt to burrow themselves under the band of his loincloth.

“Enough.” He lets out a deep growl, shoving her away, dropping his weapon in doing so. She loses and quickly regains her balance in a few seconds, throwing herself on him. He grabs her by the wrists, restraining her with ease so that she can’t come any closer to him. 

“Perhaps we need to renegotiate the terms so that you are a part of them, yes?” Her voice is full of desperation, trembling as she strains against him. “How does that sound numeyu? You know we have a population problem, right? We could all use you.”

“I have no interest in being your stud.” Ralak spits, forcefully shoving her away, causing her to stumble back and for her head to hit the table. 

He moves quickly, picking up his spear off the ground and heading for the door. She lunges at him, dagger unsheathed from her hip and armed in her hand, whilst her other arm snakes around his throat to pull him onto the ground. 

During the struggle, Ralak drags her off his back, resulting in a nasty gash from his collarbone and down his shoulder blade. He hisses from the burn, instantly assuming an offensive stance to plunge his spear through. Ay’ana returns the hiss, crouching with her bloodied dagger ready to strike.  

“I will kill you.” Ralak threatens, nearing the pointed tip closer and closer to her chest. “And I will take great joy in doing so.”  

“Is that right?” Ay’ana hisses, tail wagging in excitement with unsettling smile spread across her face. She looks as if she’s toying with him. As if she’s playing a game and she’s winning. “Let me have a taste of you.” 

“Nìtam! [Enough!]” Tonowari roars as he yanks back the curtain, instantly averting Ay’ana’s attention to him. Perhaps it was her roots calling her to respond to her true leader. Varang appears beside him with a scowl stained on her face, displeased with her subordinate. One more move and the treaty would’ve already been broken. 

“Easy, Tak.” Tonowari murmurs, and Ralak relaxes into position next to him, blood trickling down his chest and back. 

“Come with me.” Varang snarls at Ay’ana, seizing her by the queue.

“Night has fallen. We will take our leave.” Tonowari speaks roughly, trying his hardest to contain his anger as he rests a careful hand resting on Ralak—leading him out the room.

“In another ten years, Olo’eyktan.”

Tonowari grunts as he and the rest push past the swarming ash people. As soon as they’re far enough, he stops Ralak and has Ronal safely look at his wound. It’s weeping and open, prone to a nasty infection if not dressed immediately. She unclasps her medicine pouch from her hip, and retrieves a small bottle of iridescent liquid, a viscous concoction of herbs, and a needle and thread.

“Come, son.” Tonowari speaks softly, ripping the cork from the small bottle with his back teeth and spitting it on the ground. “That vonvä’.”

Ralak sits on the nearest rock, elbows propped on his knees and head hung low to hide his face. Jake and Neytiri observe in silence, cringing as Tonowari douses the gash with the liquid as Ronal prepares the needle and thread. 

Ralak groans, biting down tooth on tooth. 

Tonowari leaves a little left in the bottle, offering it to Ralak who is visibly trying to keep it together. He plucks the bottle from Tonowari’s hand and knocks it back, puffing out a sigh. 

“Keep still.” Ronal orders, driving the wooden needle through his skin. 

Ralak grumbles, letting his head hang between his knees and his hair fall forward. At this point Neytiri looks away, but Jake can’t. His eyes are plastered to the scene unfolding before him as he recognizes his son-in-law’s strength and perseverance. 

“That should hold until we are back.” She declares, gathering her supplies and stuffing them back into her pouch. 

“Irayo [thank you], Ronal.”

“You’re strong, boy.” Jake mumbles, patting Ralaks back as he gets up. “Anyone care to explain what the hell happened back there?” 

Ralak just shakes his head, leaving Tonowari to speak for him. “I will explain on the way back. You all have someone waiting for you.”

Ralak’s ears spring up at the thought of you, giving him a burst of energy to spring to his feet, gather his gear and lead the trek himself. The women walk behind him, concerned about his wound. Tonowari and Jake are left at the back, sharing a look before they begin their journey. 

——

“Fuck. Fuck.” You pant, looking down at your trembling hands that sink into the bed through double vision. You sway from side to side, trying to take steady, deep breaths, but the pressure between your legs is starting to make you panic. The possibility that you may have to do this alone is quickly becoming a reality. 

Zu’té is the one doing the pacing now, unable to sit still in his spot for much longer. He has long abandoned his woven pieces, burning lines into the patio floor as he walks back and forth outside—conflicted on his next move. 

He doesn’t want to go against your wishes and call a healer without you requesting it. But he must keep his word to Ralak—to keep you safe—which means calling for a healer. He chews on the toughened skin on his thumb, listening to your continuous whimpers and whines. By the sounds of it, you’re in active labour now, ready to give birth at any moment. 

——

A few hours have passed since they started the trek back home. Everyone has fallen into new positions that work for them. Ralak, eager to be at his pregnant mate’s side, leads the pack, clearing the path for the others. Jake and Neytiri stay not too far behind him, keeping a vigilant eye on their surroundings. Tonowari and Ronal are far at the back, linked together as she trudges on despite her extreme weariness.

“Let us take another break.” Tonowari speaks quietly to his mate, hand on her stomach. They share a look, speaking to one another with their eyes. She doesn’t want to hold up the group much more than she already has. 

“No. We are almost there—ugh!” Ronal lets out a sudden groan, clutching her stomach as she doubles over. 

Everyone stops dead in their tracks, turning around with wide eyes. Tonowari supports her, and carefully walks her over to a nearby fallen log, lowering her down onto it. She takes a few deep breaths as Neytiri and Jake rush over to her. 

“Is it time?” Neytiri asks, crouching down next to her. Ronal nods once, completely in tune with her body and aware of exactly what’s happening.

Which is why she insisted they continue, or else she won’t make it back in time. Ralak watches at a distance, his face contorting with sheer worry. No, borderline distress. He looks almost mortified, but not for the reasons that one may think. They all know why, it's obvious. If Ronal is in labour,

…that means you probably are too.  

“Go ahead.” Ronal pants, beads beginning to form at her temple. 

But Ralak doesn’t move. He can’t move. He’s at conflict with himself. An internal battle of knowing that he should stay and help, even though he really wants to go—needs to go. 

“We got it, son. Go to her.” Jake huffs as he helps Tonowari lift Ronal to carry her. “Go on!” He shouts, prompting Ralak to look to his father figure for approval, to which he meets him with a quick nod before averting his attention back to his labouring mate. And with Neytiri’s soft smile of reassurance, Ralak takes a few steps back before turning his heel and booking it home. 

——

“Haah…holy fuck—holy fuck.” You moan, feeling another contraction start up and the pressure between your legs intensify. 

This one has you on your hands and knees, clutching the bed head so hard your nails dig into the wood. It’s undeniable now. This baby is coming whether you like it or not. And as the contraction reaches its peak, you scream. 

“Zu’té!” It pains you to cry out for his name and not your mates. Hearing your call—your permission to enter—he finally bursts through the door and rushes to your side. 

“I’m here, I’m here.” He’s out of breath and on edge.

“I think—oh god—I think the baby’s coming!” You cry out, swooping your hand between your legs to try and feel what’s happening. 

“Shit. Like now? Like right now?” Zu’té panics as he watches you, hands hovering around you, unsure of what to do. 

“I d-don’t know! I—I don’t—I want Ralak! Fuck, fuck. I want lak!” You cry out in sheer agony. “I want my mate. I-I need him!” 

“Y/n. Eywa.” Desperation is potent in his voice now. 

The fact that you’re calling out for his brother means the time has come and he feels like a fool to have let this get this far without stepping in. He swallows and takes a breath to calm down, just as your contraction ends and leaves you sobbing on your knees. 

“I’m getting the healer.” He says firmly, turning his heel to leave but you grab his wrist before he can walk away. 

“No! Don’t leave…Please don’t leave me alone.” You beg, fear glossing over your eyes until it spills onto your cheeks once more. He looks at you with furrowed brows, lamenting for you. Now he’s really conflicted, because this means…it’s him or no one. 

“Ah, shit. Shit. Uhm.” He rakes his fingers through his scalp, thinking about his next move. He’s seriously considering going regardless, able to see the situation for what it is.

“Please, Zu’té.” You plead weakly, slowly lowering yourself onto your behind and off your knees, leaning back into the bedhead. 

“Okay, okay.” He nods and you let go of his wrist, immediately using your hand to support your stomach. You let your eyes close, they’re swollen and heavy. “Uh–right, right.” 

For some reason he can’t stop repeating himself twice. Perhaps it’s his way of keeping grounded. He heads straight for the bucket of water and rag to bring it over to you. He dips the rag into the water, and wrings it out. You barely open your eyes at the sound of the bucket making contact with the floor, and see that he’s nearing you with a damp cloth and raised brows. He’s waiting for your go ahead. 

“Yes.” Your voice is hoarse and trembling. 

Zu’té begins to wipe away the sweat that’s dripping in your eyes, your forehead, neck and chest. Dipping the rag back into the water, he wrings it out once more and wipes down your shoulders and arms. You can’t help but sit there and close your eyes, allowing him to do it all, exhausted.

Feeling something press against your lips, you open your eyes in a daze. Zu’té holds a cup of water to your mouth, and you drink ardently, gasping for air and closing your eyes when it’s emptied. Sleep calls to you, taking you as you barely manage to mutter out a weak, “...thank you.” 

Zu’té calculates another five minutes before your next contraction, giving him enough time to fetch a fresh pail of water—something absolutely necessary for the birth. He leaves you sat up against the bedhead, rag on your forehead as you sleep. But not even three minutes go by before he hears your languid moan. 

Abandoning the bucket, he rushes back into the marui, finding you standing and holding onto the marui stilt with one hand as the other tugs at the strap of your top. Seeing you try to undress has him stopping in his tracks and turning his head to look away. 

“Y/n—”

“Ughhaa—” You grunt, untethering the knot of your top. Your body is trying to get comfortable for the birth of your son now, and these pieces of cloth feel suffocating. “Get out!”

With that, Zu’té turns and retreats back to the patio, hands on his head as he begins to make his plan. If he flew on his skimwing, he could make it to the village and back with a healer in about ten minutes. But would that be enough time? What if you didn’t have ten minutes? Your pained groan turns into a howl and it makes his ears twitch. 

By the sound of that, you might not even have five minutes. 

“Come on, baby brother. Don’t make me do this. Please. Don’t make me go back in there. Oh shit—I’m going to have to go back in there, aren’t I? Eywa. Eywa. Okay—It’s okay. I can do this. Childbirth. It’s just childbirth. Right? Right.” 

Zu’té tries to convince himself that he’s capable of this despite this not being what he signed up for. 

“Okay, Toto. Just do it. Go in there.” Zu’té sounds breathless as he speaks to himself, turning around to face the door. He hears your whimper and his jaw tightens. “Shit. Okay. Right.”

Just as he raises his hand to pull back the curtain, he hears a winded voice. 

“Brother.”

[haikyu-mp4]

I am applying with Akaashi I am outgoing and driven

excellent, you're hired!! thank you for participating<3

Gossip central

Akaashi is your coworker and protects you from a rude customer, for the now hiring! event

word count; 674 – f!reader

Working in a café gave you front-row seats to the gossip of so many strangers and familiar faces. Every other hour, you would sneakily pull Akaashi with you by the arm to whisper in his ear about some string of details you picked up while passing by table 4, who were discussing their shared friend’s failing marriage, or the grand gestures of the couple fighting at table 11, where the guy clearly didn’t understand what he did wrong.

That last one was still ongoing, and after leaving the back room with lingering giggles on your lips, you and Akaashi watched as the woman from table 11, by the window, stormed off and out the door. Her – perhaps now ex – boyfriend slumped back in his chair with a look of disbelief, and you did your best to divert your attention to the next in line at the register.

Social anxiety must fear this man, as it took no less than three minutes before he was loudly recounting the whole story to whoever over the phone. The other customers were one by one turning their heads towards him in disbelief or annoyance, some also glancing towards their closest barista in hopes that someone would handle it.

You breathed in through your nose and slowly let it out through your mouth, asking the newest hire to take over the register while you made your way around the counter. While walking towards the windows, you apologised to some of the customers and asked them to please enjoy their coffees. The man took no notice of you as you stopped beside his table, still yelling into the phone about how that bitch was such a psycho anyways. You cleared your throat, and then did it once more but louder, finally making him turn to you.

“Excuse me, sir. Could you please lower your voice or take it outside?” you asked kindly, a small smile forced onto your lips and hands locked behind your back politely.

The man scoffed, then gave you a nasty look while still holding the phone to his ear. “Oh really? Am I too loud for you?”

“The noise is disturbing the other café-goers and I do not believe it is necessary.”

He slammed his fist into the table and you flinched at the sound, taking a step back. “If they’re so offended, they can feel free to leave. What I do is none of your business, uggo.”

“Sir-” you pursed your lips trying to regain your patience. “I think you should calm down.”

He got up out of his chair, and you were about to turn around when a mop of short black hair appeared in your view. Akaashi’s steel eyes were on the emotional man, shoulder in front of yours to show he was there in your stead. You can relax, I got it.

“You will not be disrespecting our workers any more,” he instructed calmly, taking a tip from a book he read the other day and hinting that he might be the manager of the establishment, even though that was not the truth. To establish a certain dominance, which is often necessary with such simple-minded men. “We will not be taking any more orders from you either. You can leave on your own or I will call security to show you out.”

The man stuttered in his step, nostrils flaring at Akaashi and then at you. He huffed and rolled his eyes, turning to the side. “I won't be recommending this shithole.”

“Very well,” Akaashi concluded, moving so he was always somewhat between you and the guy until he had left the premises. Then he turned to you and his whole frame seemed to soften. He was shaking his hands a bit at his sides, probably loosening up the nerves, so you held one of them and squeezed it. “Are you okay?”

“I am. Thank you.”

He assured you later that he, in fact, did not think you were an uggo. “I find you to be very beautiful. The most beautiful, actually.”

masterlist

[prototypelq]

vergil for the ask game?

Vergy!

thank you and @river-muse for asking about the series #1 Motivated Loser!)))

favourite thing about them

First place - his inner softness. Vergil is very much his momma's boy, he is emotional, touchy, and he loves with his whole heart, he loves so much that he is scared of the feeling consuming him whole. I thrive on seeing him simply be the older brother, father (and adopted uncle) figure that he wishes to be.

Honourable mention: just how Iconic he is. Vergil is THE anime katana wielder, he is THE Storm That Is Approaching, he is THE Rival Videogame Boss, he will kick your ass into Easy mode without breaking a sweat. Dante is an iconic protagonist for sure, but Vergil is one of THE Videogame Bosses Of All Time and that position is absolutely deserved. And, y'know. He is super fun to fight.

least favourite thing about them

V(ergil). I appreciate all the character development we got out of that time, but I also firmly believe it could have been achieved in other ways, plus V(ergil) just makes the story completely unrelatable. Dante faces human trauma and human struggles. Vergil faces those same problems, however, his path through them is an emotional mess human (and fans') experience cannot account for. For me, that dampens the emotional investment in the story, especially considering how much simpler, but no less impactful in Dante's in comparison to Vergil.

DisHonourable mention: 'Dreams of a black throne I keep on repeat' and 'Call me your majesty' lines from BTL and Fire Inside respectfully. None of those lines fit Vergil at all, and they only further the ginormous amount of misconceptions about him.

(I do adore the demonic pet therapy tho, it was adorable)

favourite line

'We've got plenty of time' (watch me bawl till final stage of dehydration to this)

brOTP

I mean, it's in the name. Sparda Loser Twins, my beloved. I also completely support every opinion that Vergil will get along with Trish, Lady, Nico and Patty just fine.

OTP

I admit, I am intrigued by Vergil/Lady, I think they can have something good together. They both seek challenge, and could provide it for each other (by challenge I also mean just generally new experiences, I don't mean they have to fistfight each arguement). I can see them together in some post-dmc3 AU scenario, but also. Surprisingly. Post-dmc5. Cause Lady very much needs to retire if she wants to live any longer than she has, and Vergil has known nothing but violence for his entire adult life (which is also not much). Post-dmc5 both need to learn how to handle peace times, and this parallel is what I can see driving them together in this setup. Again, I think they can have something nice, also probably much sweeter than in post-dmc3 version.

nOTP fucking incest

random headcanon

Vergil is a freakin romantic to the core. He likes reading, he would enjoy himself in an art gallery, I think he would also like visiting theater and/or musicals. This man forced himself to weaponise his nerdiness and I'd love to see him slowly, badly, but surely, letting go and just enjoying himself and different hobbies. Also, just a totally random thing - I think he'd enjoy pottery (after he breaks a few dozen mishapen figures first, of course)

unpopular opinion

I doubt I can come up with something more unpopular than my previous rant about V(ergil)

song i associate with them

I have a few actually! Vergil would love Bring Me To Life and I Am Right About This. I can also see him enjoying Break The Silence.

This track is an absolute BLAST, and I have a concrete vision that Vergil would like to learn and play it. This vision was extended by the brainrot into Dante hearing the track, loving it, then bringing himself and Nero along to play the song (just don't ask me how, I have counted at least four different instruments, and it either means Dante and Nero have to switch drums and base guitar mid-song, or that Vergil and Dante have to switch on the guitars). This song is just so beautiful, and I think the losers will have an amazing time playing it together.

Musical Spardas, one of my most critical of weaknesses.

also I wish there was a way to mod Kitsune Dance to be the M19 bossfight music. beautiful song, it has very distinct musical phases which would easily match the fight escalation, and it just sound much more fitting for Vergil than the in-game track.

favourite picture of them

this is one of those pics where the context of the original shot was painful, but the resulting image looks wholesome as hell and I love it. (pls share source if you know it)

[ask-the-fnaf-nightguards]

I’m moving in 10 days, have been working non-stop, and have yet to finish a drawing

[fingertipsmp3]

Nothing funnier to me than when someone tries to start a fight with me and I absolutely refuse to bite. Like we’re not fucking doing this lmao. Simmer down or scream at someone else

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Cherry Pie. aka - Cherry, Part Three.

There are certain things in life that can’t be denied. You’re starting to think maybe you and Steve are one of them.

pairing - bestfriend!steve harrington x female reader

warnings - smut. cursing.

word count - 2.6k

authors note - part three has arrived!! thanks for your patience, angels. thank you for all your continued enthusiasm and support for this series. I love them and I love you <3 as always, please reblog if you enjoyed!! it’s the only way to circulate my fics <3

masterlist. inbox. series masterlist.

“The prettiest girl in the world just walked in.”

“Your mom?”

“Funny, Harrington. Try again.”

“My Cherry?”

Robin smiles knowingly, nodding her head. Not only did Steve automatically associate you with the phrase prettiest girl in the world, but he called you his. Some days, she wished she could slap him square across the face in hopes of waking him up to what everyone else could see so clearly.

“Hi, you two. Working hard, or hardly working?”

You giggle, and the sound bounces off the metal shelves of the Family Video Store. Steve’s mesmerised, stood unmoving with a beaming grin on his face.

“I’m the first, Steve’s the second.”

The boy kicks his coworker in the shin, laughing when she pinches the bare skin of his arm in retaliation.

“Not true.”

Steve takes you in for a second, stuck still in his place. You’re wearing his favourite sundress, all patterned and pretty in front of him. Your lips are glossy and skin glowy, sneakers on your feet a perfect white. The perfect picture of a summer day.

“What are you doing here?” Robin asks, breaking him out of his haze. He snaps back to reality and throws an arm around your shoulders, kissing your temple sweetly.

“I was nearby anyway, thought I’d come in and see if you were busy. And I had to remind Steve to pick a movie for tonight.”

“We’re not watching a romcom.”

“We’re watching a romcom,” you say at the same time as Steve while Robin laughs.

“I better grab the new stock from the back. See you later,” she says, winking at the boy who still has you pulled tight into his side.

He rests his chin on the top of your head, inhaling the scent of your cherry conditioner and vanilla body wash. If Steve gets to heaven, he’s convinced this is what it’ll smell like.

“I finish here at 6, so I can come and get you, or you can wait for me at my place? Your choice, Cherry Baby.”

“I’ll wait for you. I was thinking I’d make us some dinner anyway, ready for when you get home.”

Home. Steve’s brain short circuits, a vision of a domestic life with a white picket fence flashing across his mind. He cups your face in his hands, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“Sounds perfect,” he whispers.

You’re a little confused by all this sudden affection, but the last thing you’ll ever do is complain. If he wants to kiss you until you’re dizzy in the middle of this Family Video Store, then so be it.

“I should leave you to get on with stuff.”

“You could stay all day, if you wanted. We could make you wear the uniform and everything - no one would suspect a thing.”

You laugh, nudging his foot with yours.

“As tempting as that is, I have a little more shopping to do. And I have to get ingredients for later.”

You pick up your bag, swinging it over your shoulder as you look at him.

“See you later, Stevie.”

“See you later, Cherry Pie.”

You’re halfway out the door when he calls your name, head whipping around to face him.

“You’re so pretty. You know that, right?”

You look at your shoes, suddenly bashful at his boldness.

“You too, Stevie. Prettiest boy I know.”

You both go about the rest of your days floating on air, high on the giddy sweetness of it all.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

Steve almost passes out when he unlocks his front door.

There’s candles lit and music playing softly, the kitchen alive with movement. Something smells delicious, and he can hear you humming along to a song he thinks he recognises as you chop and stir. He can picture it perfectly before he even enters the room, but the sight still knocks him off balance when he finally gets a good look at you.

“Honey, I’m home!”

You spin from your place at the stove to grin at him, petticoat trimmed apron tied around your waist to protect your dress.

“Darling! I’ve been waiting all day for you!”

You curtsy in mock greeting, which makes Steve laugh much harder than it should. He strides over and gathers you in his arms, squeezing you a little tighter than necessary.

“Steven, I saw you a few hours ago. You’re acting like you’ve just returned from war.”

“Forgive me for missing you,” he mumbles into your hair.

You sink into his embrace anyway, tangling your fingers into the back of his shirt and inhaling the familiar scent of it.

“Something smells really good.”

“It’s my famous cherry pie,” you grin, pulling back to look up at him. “Made it just for you.”

“You’re an angel,” he exclaims, spinning you around on the tiled floors. “An angel sent just for me.”

You try to ignore the way heat rises across your chest, his compliments warming your skin.

“Let me take it out of the oven, and then we’ll eat. You must be starving.”

He laughs, because you know for a fact he’s always hungry. You know everything about him. It should scare him, spook him, make him nervous. Instead he hums with the excitement of it, body alive with the anticipation of it all.

Steve changes out of his work clothes as you plate up dinner. He comes back downstairs to see you sat at the table waiting for him, all patient and pretty. He wonders momentarily what he’s done so right in life to be rewarded so greatly.

✵  ✵    ·　 ✵ 　　 *  · ✵

“So you totally brought me a romcom, right?”

Steve wants to deny it, wants to tell you that actually he stood his ground and stuck to his word. Instead, he says,

“Of course I did.”

And you laugh, all silvery and melodic, because you knew he’d cave. He can’t say no to you, even if he wanted to. You don’t use it to your advantage as often as you should. Steve wishes you did a little more.

“I’ll make popcorn if you get the video set up.”

Snacks made and movie ready, you settle in next to Steve on the couch. The two of you always follow the same routine - you sit separately, a fair distance between you, watching the movie with your hands to yourself. Then, slowly, you migrate towards each other, until you’re pressed together without an inch of space to be found.

The same thing happens tonight.

You end up being spooned by Steve, both of you laying across the couch cushions. Your back is pressed to his front, legs tangled together, his arm keeping you bracketed in to him. He’s hooked his chin over your shoulder to watch the TV, pressing kisses into the skin of your neck absentmindedly every now and again.

The film Steve picked is one you’ve seen before, but you’re not about to tell him that. Instead, your eyes slowly slip closed, the steady rhythm of the boys breathing lulling you into a sleepy haze. He traces patterns over the exposed skin of your stomach with his fingertips, chuckling slightly when you flinch as he brushes a ticklish spot.

Your hips roll back into his as you try to adjust your position, and Steve’s breath hitches in his throat. He inhales deeply, waiting for you to settle back down.

You don’t. You keep wriggling, clearly uncomfortable as you sink further into the couch cushions. Steve tries to help you, strong arm pulling you up and into him. You jut your hips once more, and he can’t help the small groan that leaves his lips.

Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the flashing lights of the TV illuminating the room. The movie is still playing, but you know it’s almost finished. Steve’s arm is tight around your waist, his breathing heavy against your shoulder. You shift your hips to alleviate the pressure on your tangled legs when Steve sucks in a harsh breath, startling you.

He’s warm behind you. So warm. His chest is moving ragged, panting against your bare skin. His fingers grip your thigh tightly for a second, before letting it go and soothing over it.

Oh. Oh.

You’re wide awake, suddenly. Liquid heat spikes its way up your spine, all prickly and electric. You’re not sure what your next move is, but lust is clouding all five of your senses.

“Steve.”

“Cherry.”

“Steve.”

You try to say his name more firmly, but it just comes out as a whine. The sound shoots straight to Steve’s core, his hips bucking into your ass involuntarily.

“You okay?” he mumbles into your ear, grip on your thigh tightening. His fingertips dig into your skin, and you pray you’ll still be able to feel it tomorrow.

“Yeah,” you breathe, but it’s a lie. You’re not okay. You’re on fire, every nerve ending in your body alight with molten heat. You think you might be shaking with it, hoping Steve doesn’t notice.

His hand smooths up from your thigh to just under your breast, resting gently on your ribs. Your heart is fluttering like a hummingbirds wings, frantic and delicate. He can feel it through his fingertips.

“I love you, Cherry Baby.”

You lose your breath momentarily, reminding yourself how to inhale. He always does this, always catches you off guard by telling you he loves you in the moments you expect it the least. It always means more, in times like these. He could have said anything to you just then, but he chose I love you. You don’t know whether to laugh or cry or neither or both.

“I love you too,” you choke out. “So much.”

You grind your hips back into his, grinning when he groans all low and buttery. His hand glides up to cup your chest, squeezing gently as you arch into him.

“What do you want?” he asks slowly. “Tell me what you want, babe. I’ll give you anything. Need to hear you say it. Wanna hear you say the words.”

You let him ramble for a minute, trying to put your thoughts in order. You try as hard as you can, but all you can say is,

“You.”

Steve buries his nose into your hair, pressing a kiss into the space behind your ear gently.

“You’re killing me, baby.”

“Want you so badly, Steve. Please.”

The hand that’s on your chest dances down to your stomach, slipping underneath your sleep shorts. He traces his fingers over your underwear, moaning when he feels them completely soaked through.

“Shit.”

“Stevie.”

He strokes you gently, hips rutting into your back when yours jolt into his hand. Eventually, he pulls your underwear to the side, running his fingers through your wet heat before slipping two inside.

You keen instantly, back arching into him. His lips find home in the juncture between your neck and your shoulder, teeth biting down occasionally to try and stifle his desire. You move your hips in tandem with his rhythm, grinding down to try and find the right spot.

“Yeah, fuck, that’s it. Atta girl. Ride my fingers, sweetheart. Take what you need.”

His voice is like melted honey, all golden and warm. It’s making your bones turn to liquid, sinking further into the hold he still has on you with his other arm. Every inch of you is plastered to every inch of him, not a millimetre of space between you. You’ve never been so connected, both physically and emotionally. It’s like the tectonic plates are shifting, the very foundations of your lives changing right in front of your eyes.

Your chest is heaving, panting like you’ve just ran a marathon. All you can focus on is the white heat building in the pit of your stomach, volcanic and bright. When Steve crooks his fingers, you cry out, tumbling over the edge into a blind freefall with no parachute.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.”

“You’re so good f’me. Doin’ so well.”

“Ride it out, pretty girl. Fuck.”

“Make a mess, there we go. Just like that.”

You’re not even registering his words, but you know that he’s praising you. He always is. He thinks you’re an angel, sent down from heaven to teach him what love is.

Steve ruts his hips into your back, groaning as he finishes. He can’t even find it in him to be embarrassed. The feeling of you writhing in his hold as you tightened around him was his undoing, whether he wanted it to be or not. He doesn’t mind.

You go boneless, head dropping back into his shoulder. He presses kisses onto your temple, your cheek, your neck, anywhere he can reach. You sigh in contentment, and Steve wishes he could bottle up the sound and take it like a shot of espresso every morning.

“You okay?”

You nod and then giggle, dopamine rushing through your blood. You’re almost lightheaded with it, floating on cloud nine.

“Steve?” you whisper.

“Yeah?”

You turn in his hold to finally face him, taking in the sight of his flushed cheeks and messy hair. You rest your sweaty forehead against his, panting into his mouth.

“Want it to be you.”

He pulls away slightly to get a good look at your face, eyes a little wide with shock.

“You mean…”

“Yeah. You don’t have to, if you don’t want to, but if you do, I guess I, um… there’s no one I trust more than you.”

“You know you can only lose your virginity once, baby.”

“I know. Which is exactly why it should be you.”

He grins at you, all giddy and love drunk, bumping your nose with his.

“You’re sure?”

“One hundred percent.”

Steve leans in to press his lips to yours, all slow and tender, kissing you as if you have all the time in the world.

Perhaps you do.

“Not tonight, obviously,” you murmur, chuckling under your breath. “Don’t think you could handle that.”

He scoffs, pulling back from you in disbelief.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You just came in your pants and I didn’t even touch you. Who even knows if we’ll make it to actual sex.”

Steve pinches your sides, wrapping his arms around you so you can’t escape. You laugh, trying to squirm out of his hold without luck.

“You’re gonna be eating your words, Cherry Baby.”

You shake your head, blinding smile still etched on your face.

“You know what I am gonna eat? My cherry pie. I’m starving.”

Steve groans at the thought of the dessert sitting on the counter in the kitchen. No one does a cherry pie quite like you.

“Hell yeah. Let’s do it. There’s ice cream in the freezer, too. That vanilla bean one you like.”

You peck his lips before standing up on shaky legs, wincing as you do it.

“You good?”

“I’m gonna need a new shirt. This one’s sticky.”

You look at him with a raised eyebrow and he can’t hold in his laughter, the sound of it booming around the quiet room.

“Shut the fuck up,” he jokes as he throws you over his shoulder. Despite your protests, he carries you up the stairs, smacking your ass a few times on the way for good measure.

When he puts you down, he cradles your face gently, looking into your eyes with sincerity.

“It’s me and you forever. You know that right?”

You know what he’s trying to say. I love you. You’re it for me. There never has been and never will be anyone else.

But neither of you are quite ready for those words. So instead, you say,

“I know. I’ve always known.”

And that’s enough, for now.

@psychicnerdcat @allcheesemelts @valerievortex @swiftsgirlfriend @steviespookie @betweenstarsandsatellites @mrsjoequinn @internallysalad @saucypeanuttt @empathyroad @niceskyler @spookysins @theoraekenslover @7minutes-tomidnight @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @livsters @diffrent-spokes @regular-joe-shmoe @ihatepeanutss

for some reason I didn't tag some people from part one in part two... no idea why. sorry!

[roosterforme]

Some Things Take Time | Bob Floyd x Reader

Summary: Bob is a man well known for his patience. He never rushes things in the air, and he tries to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. You and he are both on the same page about welcoming a child into your home through foster care, but it's hard for him to watch you try to bond with her unsuccessfully. He soon realizes that Avery is a lot like him, and that some things are worth the extra time.

Warnings: angst, fluff, mentions of infertility, mentions of foster care and adoption, Bob making all other men look like trash

Length: 5800 words

Pairing: Robert "Bob" Floyd x wife!reader

Happy birthday @wkndwlff! Check my masterlist for more!

You were laying on the couch with your head resting on your husband's lap, spinning his wedding band around on his finger while you tried to put your thoughts into words. You could tell he knew you were on the verge of speaking, sending you several expectant glances as you and he both pretended to watch the movie he started an hour ago. But Bob would never rush you, and you were thankful for that, because you wanted to make sure you got this right. 

"We've been trying for a long time," you whispered, and Bob's blue eyes met yours as you looked up at him. "Almost two years."

He nodded once and smiled softly. "We have," he murmured, squeezing your hand in his larger one. You pressed your lips together as tears stung your eyes. Bob never seemed upset that he was pushing forty years old and in spite of trying and trying, you'd never gotten pregnant. He never put pressure on you to keep trying or to stop. You were convinced he never would, but you wanted to know what he was really thinking.

"What if we... stopped. Stopped trying. And just went with an alternative?"

"Honey, I already told you I'm happy with things how they are. We can stop trying if you want to, or we can talk about alternatives if you want to do that. But there's nothing wrong with just you and me. In fact, I'm really quite enjoying myself."

You closed your eyes as his fingers drifted along the curves of your side. It would be delicious to get back into the habit of having sex when you wanted to instead of when your cycle demanded it. You and Bob sharing your undivided attention with each other was something you were craving, but you still wanted something else, too.

"What if I said I wanted to look into fostering and adoption again?" you asked softly as you started to sit up.

He pulled you closer so you were straddling his thigh. "Then I would say we can call our lawyer on Monday and get some answers."

You smiled as you nudged his glasses with your nose and kissed his cheek. "And what if I said I'm not fertile today, but I want you anyway?"

Bob reached for the remote and turned the movie off as a soft blush rose in his cheeks. "Then I would say it's time we got in bed, Honey."

---------------------

Bob was a man who was well known for his patience. He never rushed things in the air, and he tried to live by a similar philosophy on the ground. He knew he wanted to marry you about halfway through the first date. He also knew you would have looked at him like he was insane if he admitted that to you halfway through the first date. So instead of rushing things, he took the time to make sure you were on the same page he was and that you were comfortable. He always tried to do that.

When a baby just didn't seem to be happening, he was more than willing to keep trying, but he was also completely content with the idea of no kids at all. It wasn't worth rushing anything as long as he had you in his life. But you had recently convinced him of a third option, and his lawyer helped the two of you smooth out the details. 

And this is how Avery ended up at Bob's house on a random Monday evening. She was eight years old and in need of a foster family, and you were adamant when you answered the phone call that you and Bob were more than ready for her to be dropped off even on such short notice. 

"I'm so nervous," you whispered as you held Bob's hand and watched through the front window as a van pulled up. 

"I'm excited," he told you with a soft laugh. When he thought about having kids, he always pictured a little girl. For some reason, the idea of reading princess stories and painting a bedroom a putrid shade of purple really appealed to him. As he watched Avery being led up the walkway, he realized she didn't look one bit like you or him. He also realized that having a child who resembled him was actually never part of his dreams. 

As the doorbell rang, you bounced in place and whispered, "She's here. She's really here." 

Bob pulled you in for a kiss as his heart thudded. He realized he needed to tamp down his excitement a little bit. The two of you were merely fostering Avery. Nothing was set in stone even though you told the lawyer you wanted to eventually adopt a child. But right now your eyes were glittering with hope and anticipation, and Bob couldn't take that away from you. 

"Let's make her feel welcome," he said as you both headed for the door. 

Avery stood there with an unreadable expression on her adorable face, and Bob noticed right away how the case worker seemed to rush through everything. There were papers to sign and a schedule to keep, and even though all of it pertained to Avery, she ended up sitting quietly at the kitchen table while everyone else talked about her.

It was late by the time you and Bob were alone with her, and now her unreadable expression looked something like sadness. "Avery," Bob said softly. "Do you want to see your bedroom?"

She looked up at him and nodded without saying a word, and then you helped her down from the chair. You had taken the time to freshen up the extra bedroom and buy a pink glitter toothbrush and a pair of pajamas in her size. But Avery just sat down on the edge of the bed with her bag and asked, "Do I have to go to school tomorrow?"

"Yes," Bob replied with a smile. "I'll drop you off on my way to work, and then I'll pick you up in the afternoon."

When she didn't respond, you asked, "Is there anything you want? A bedtime snack or something to drink? I could make you some hot chocolate or get you a cookie. Bob makes the best oatmeal cookies, and there are a few left from the weekend. Maybe you can help Bob make the next batch." You were rambling now, and Bob reached out to squeeze your hand as you said, "We're just excited that you're here."

But Avery shook her head and told you, "I'll just read my book. Thanks." Then she untied her shoes and took a well worn copy of The Secret Garden from her bag, but she sat on the bed with rigid posture, not looking at either of you.

Bob wasn't quite sure what to do. You'd already shown the child where the bathroom was, and she seemed to have all of her essentials. He swallowed hard, deciding not to rush Avery even though he could feel your disappointment radiating off of you. He cleared his throat and said, "We'll leave our bedroom door open in case you need anything. And we'll get you up around seven for school. Good night, Avery."

She just nodded and squinted down at the tattered book cover like she was going to cry. Bob led you down the hallway, through your room and into the en suite bathroom where he gathered you in his arms as tears filled your eyes. "I don't think she likes us," you gasped before you buried your face against his neck.

Bob kissed the top of your head and whispered, "I just think she needs some time. Let's not rush anything." 

-------------------------

You cried yourself to sleep the first night. You knew that your response wasn't fair to Bob or Avery or even to yourself, but you'd imagined meeting a little girl who was at least a little bit more talkative if not upbeat. You had your hopes set on fostering a child who at least gave the impression that your home was better than another alternative. You'd been given a vague picture of where Avery had come from, and you wanted her to be comfortable here, but now you felt stupid for buying the glitter toothbrush and the Minnie Mouse pajamas. 

Bob's hand drew lazy circles on your back as you turned away from him and cried softly. "It's just the first night," he reminded you in that sweet, even tone that you loved so much.

"I know. I just wanted this so desperately," you admitted between shaky breaths. His hand on your body helped you eventually fall asleep, and the next morning, Bob was up before you, making breakfast. When you tapped on Avery's door which was ajar, you poked your head in to find her once again sitting on the bed reading.

"Did you sleep okay?" you asked, and she nodded in response. "That's great!" you said in a tone of forced excitement. "Do you need help getting ready for school?"

"No," she said softly, setting the book aside.

You took a deep breath and said, "Bob's making breakfast. Do you want to come downstairs and eat?"

"Yes."

That was the last word you heard her speak before Bob led her out to his car in his uniform. He smiled at you over his shoulder as he told you to have a good day working on your true crime novel, but you knew you weren't going to. You spend two hours trying to write, but you ended up with three and a half new sentences. Instead, you spent most of the day thinking you'd made a huge mistake and hating your own body. Avery would probably last two weeks tops with you and Bob before she was begging to go somewhere else. You didn't even know if you could stand to see her melancholy little expression when your husband brought her home from school today, but you didn't want to call her case worker for help yet.

In the afternoon, you bought everything you needed to make oatmeal cookies along with the rest of your usual groceries. You paused next to the checkout line where there was a display of children's books and grabbed a few of them. Avery appeared to like her book more than anything else, so maybe she would appreciate these ones, too.

But when Bob brought Avery home with him after school, she barely spoke. She didn't want to help make any cookies, and after dinner, she went back to her bedroom. Bob tried to help her with her homework, but she told him it was easy and she already finished it. When you dropped off the new books, she told you she already had a favorite. 

"Oh," you said, standing in the doorway with your hands full of the unwanted books. "That's good... that you have a favorite. I have a favorite book, too."

She looked up at you and nodded, but soon you were backing out of the room and trying to hide your tears from Bob. "It takes time," he reassured you as you balled your hands into fists and cried on him again.

You knew you needed to be as patient as he always was, but you just weren't like him. And you started talking before you could stop yourself. "If we could have gotten pregnant, we'd have our own child," you sobbed. "One that we raised from day one who would love us and bake cookies and read new books."

Bob kissed your ear and whispered, "Nothing is easy, Honey. But sometimes the harder something is at first, the more rewarding it is later on."

You cried yourself to sleep again.

------------------------

Bob tried his best for that first week. He watched you start to pull away and retreat into yourself the more Avery kept to her bedroom. Every day when he dropped her off and picked her up, she thanked him for the ride. When he asked if she would rather start taking the bus, she told him it didn't matter. When he asked if there was something special she wanted to eat for dinner, she said she wasn't picky. 

And all the while she just squinted down at her book. Just The Secret Garden even though you brought home some others. When he pulled up to the curb in front of her school one morning, he said, "Avery, would you like me to take you to the library one day? Or maybe a bookstore where you can pick out what you want?"

She looked at him as she grabbed her backpack in one hand and her book in the other. "Maybe." Then she climbed out of the car, and he waited to pull away until she was inside the school building. That was the most promising answer he'd received yet. He drove to work thinking about signing her up for a library card, and when he got there, he was in a much better mood.

Natasha was the only one who knew that Avery was under his care. He didn't want to give anyone too many details, but she sweetly asked him the same question every morning after they got to work. "How are you and the Mrs. making out with your houseguest?"

And this morning, he said, "Maybe a little better today, Nat. I'm just trying not to rush it."

She patted him on the chest and smiled. "You never do, Bob. You're a man of details."

She was right. He spent the day thinking about all of the details that he knew about Avery. She was eight years old and very quiet. She only wanted to read one book even though you offered her more. She seemed to find the most comfort when she was alone. She was honestly a lot like Bob.

When he picked Avery up from school, he watched as one of the teachers patted the top of her backpack and sent her on her way. She squinted toward his car before trudging over in his direction with a frown on her face. Bob sighed as she climbed into the backseat and buckled herself in. "How was your day, Avery?" he asked as he shifted into drive. But today he got no verbal response at all. Instead he heard her crying.

Without another word, Bob pulled his car around and into an empty parking spot before killing the engine. He opened his door and closed it before taking a few deep breaths, and then he climbed in the back door and settled in next to the crying child. He let one hand gently rest on her shoulder, giving her a small squeeze before asking, "Do you want to talk about what's bothering you?"

She just shook her head as tears flowed down her cheeks, and she stared at her feet. "It's stupid."

Bob smiled slightly. "You might think so, but I'd probably find what you have to say fascinating."

She turned her head to look at him, examining his face to see if he was being honest. But of course he was. He just wanted her to tell him what was on her mind. It took a few minutes before she started to settle down, but eventually she said, "I failed my eye exam with the nurse today." She unzipped her bag and pulled out a yellow sheet of paper and handed it to him. "She told me my eyesight is terrible and that I need to get glasses."

Bob looked at the page and had to hide his alarm from her. Avery failed her eye exam spectacularly. It was a wonder to Bob that she was even able to see in her classroom. But now her squinting and her preference for one, well worn book were starting to make sense. As he filled in the blanks in his mind, he said, "Glasses aren't so bad," while he tapped his own silver frames. "They certainly make my day a lot easier."

She kind of rolled her eyes and said, "But you're an adult. People aren't going to make fun of you for wearing glasses."

"You think you'll get made fun of?" Bob asked softly, folding the yellow paper in half.

"Yes," she replied immediately as she wiped at her tears. "I already do. Glasses will make it so much worse."

Bob wanted to press her for more details, but he didn't think this was the right moment. Instead he asked, "Is that why you only like to read The Secret Garden? Because you already know most of the words by heart?"

Avery looked at him like she couldn't believe he solved a very complex riddle. "Yes."

He nodded and asked, "Would you like to be able to read other books, too? Because glasses would definitely help with that."

She shrugged and sniffed as she said, "I like books about gardens and flowers and fairies. I don't know of any other ones I would like anyway."

Bob patted her on the shoulder one more time and said, "I like those kinds of books, too. And I think I can help you get glasses that look cool and help you pick out more books. If you'll let me."

Another partial shrug was his only answer, but at least she wasn't telling him no. As he climbed back into the driver's seat, he sent you a quick text telling you that he and Avery were fine and to go ahead and have dinner on your own. Then he drove along to his optometrist's office, hoping they would squeeze an extra appointment into their schedule.

"You're in luck," the receptionist told him when they arrived. "There was a last minute cancellation. Have a seat, and we can take you back shortly."

The rack hanging on the wall was filled with books and magazines for people of all ages, but Bob watched Avery squint as she took a seat empty handed. He skimmed a magazine and offered to read an article to her, but she said no. When ten minutes had passed, Bob asked her, "Are the kids at school mean to you?" 

He was already considering other options that might make her feel more comfortable when she said, "I just don't fit in. Everyone else has parents or grandparents. Everyone else is loud, and I like it better when it's quiet. Everyone else already made friends."

Bob nodded his head. It was like she was living his own childhood in many ways. "I like it better when it's quiet, too. So does my wife. And making friends can be hard at any age. I still struggle with it."

"You do?" she asked him, eyes wide and interested.

"Absolutely. Sometimes I still get nervous and stumble over what I want to say, and I'm thirty-nine. And you know what?"

"What?"

"There's nothing wrong with that."

He watched Avery take a deep breath and look down at her hands before both of their names were called. Once they were in the exam room, Bob got to witness her fail the test for the second time in one day, and then her tears started up again. The crying was only made worse when the receptionist popped in and tried to quietly tell Bob that Avery wasn't approved for any vision insurance. 

The child was clearly smart as a whip, and if she was having a hard time fitting in at school, he didn't want to make it worse by making her feel like she didn't fit in with you and him either. "I was planning on paying out of pocket today," he told the receptionist who just nodded in response. Then he turned to Avery and said, "Looks like the nurse was right. How about we pick out some glasses?"

She looked at the displays while she wiped at her eyes with a tissue, but she wouldn't tell Bob which ones she wanted to try on. "Which ones are the cheapest?" she asked softly.

"I have no idea," Bob replied easily. "What's your favorite color?"

"Purple," she whispered, and Bob followed her squinting gaze to a purple frame sitting on a shelf above her head. 

"I like purple, too," he said as he reached them down and handed them to her. She held them for a couple minutes, and Bob decided not to rush her. She finally slipped them on and looked in the mirror, and he told her, "I think they look cool."

She nodded a little bit. "They're pretty good. But nobody else at school has purple glasses." 

As she removed them and tried to hand them back to him, Bob quickly looked at the adult sized frames. There was one pair that came in a deep purple, and he kind of liked them. "Just hang onto those for a minute. I need help picking out new glasses for myself, okay? What do you think about these?" 

When he removed his wire frames and replaced them with the purple plastic, it seemed like Avery couldn't help but smile. "I like them."

He nodded once. "Then I'll get them. That way we can match since we both like purple. Thanks for your help."

"You're welcome," she replied quietly, looking at the glasses she was still holding before handing them to Bob.

He took both pairs in his hand before nodding toward the door. "I'm feeling like it's a good day to get ice cream for dinner and look around the bookstore. I can think of at least two more books that you might like to read once your glasses are ready for you to wear. Sound good?"

"Yes."

--------------------------

You didn't know what to expect when Bob brought Avery home after seven o'clock on a school night, but you definitely weren't prepared to hear her laughter for the first time. You'd barely made any progress on your novel since Avery arrived a few weeks ago, merely existing in your own funk all day long. But the sound of Bob's voice followed by her light giggle as they walked inside left you feeling better than you had in ages.

"Hi," you said, your voice dripping with optimism as Bob headed your way with a shopping bag in his hand. 

"Hi, Honey," he replied, kissing your cheek while Avery took her shoes off.

"How was school?" you asked her. 

"Terrible," she told you with a smile aimed up at Bob. "I failed my eye exam."

"Oh," you gasped, already making a mental note to call the eye doctor first thing in the morning so she could get some glasses. "We can take care of it for you."

"Already did," Bob said as he squeezed your hand. "Stopped on the way home and picked them out. Should be ready next week."

"Really?" you asked in surprise as he pulled two books out of the bag. Both were covered in vines and flowers, but one was clearly a novel for an adult while the other was much slimmer and looked like it was for Avery's reading level.

"Yes," he replied softly. "Now, on the drive home, I told Avery that you're a writer, but that you're also really good at reading books out loud." When you nodded and looked at her, she was squinting up at you. Bob handed you the smaller book and said, "I didn't get to take a shower before I left work, so I need to go do that now. But I promised Avery that you'd read a chapter to her after she gets ready for bed." He patted her on the shoulder and then made his way upstairs.

Your head was swimming with information. New glasses and new books and a child who was looking up at you with hope in her eyes. A husband who set up some time for you to spend alone with her. Tears stung your eyes as you said, "I love reading books out loud. Do you want to change for bed and brush your teeth now?"

Ten minutes later, you were sitting next to Avery on the spare bed, reading to her about a magical garden filled with flowers that turned the characters into superheroes. You read all sixteen pages of the first chapter, and then she asked you to read more. 

It was a little bit past bedtime when you finished the third chapter, and she was yawning. "How about I go get you one of my bookmarks from my office? And we can read more tomorrow night?"

"Okay," she replied easily, and when you returned a minute later with a bookmark that had a purple tassel, she smiled. "I like this book so far, but I think I'd like it a lot better if there were fairies, too. Thank you for reading to me."

"You're very welcome," you told her, barely shutting off the light in time for a tear to slide down your cheek. "Goodnight, Avery."

When you rushed into your own bedroom, Bob was in bed reading the other new book. "How did you do it?" you asked him, quickly climbing under the covers with him. "How did you get her to open up a little bit?"

He set the book down with a soft smile. "She just needed some time, Honey. She's a lot like me. She can't be rushed."

"No," you said, pushing your fingers through his hair as you cried a little bit. "That's not it. I think you're actually magical."

"Maybe," he agreed. "But her vision is so bad. That's why I think she kept reading The Secret Garden. She probably has it memorized and didn't want to tell anyone she couldn't see."

"Poor thing," you whispered, realizing that most of Bob's magic came from his patience as you fell asleep in his arms.

-------------------------

A week later, Bob noticed you were exhausted, but you seemed a lot happier, because Avery seemed a lot happier. You had successfully read two books to her, and she was starting to become more vocal around the house. He was hoping she was having an easier time making friends at school now, too. But he was a little bit concerned with how late into the night you'd been working.

When he got a message around lunchtime letting him know both pairs of glasses were ready, he smiled. Pretty soon Avery would be able to attempt reading a new book on her own. He sent you a text letting you know that he'd be home with Avery after a quick stop back at the optometrist's office. And when he picked her up from school, she squinted at his car before climbing in the backseat. 

"Ready to go get our new glasses?" he asked before pulling out onto the road.

"Yes," she replied softly. "I've decided that wearing glasses is a better alternative than not being able to read new books. At least until I can get contacts."

Bob chuckled. "A wise choice."

A few seconds later, she asked, "Will you take me to the library this weekend? There have to be more books there that I'd like."

"Of course I'll take you to the library. We can ask the librarian to help you find you as many books as you want to read."

He hoped that would make the new glasses an even easier decision for her. He parked and led her inside where the eye doctor got them both fitted correctly before handing them a mirror. "What do you think?" Bob asked as he smiled at Avery. "I think they look cool on you."

She shrugged. "They're okay."

"Can you see better?"

"Yes," she whispered. On the way outside, she said, "Thanks for getting new glasses with me. I like yours, too."

Bob checked himself in the mirror before he backed out of the parking spot. "I think it's kind of my color."

You were waiting in the living room for them when Bob opened the front door. The house smelled like dinner cooking, and you had a stack of bound pages on the couch next to you. When you jumped to your feet, you said, "You both look great!" as you bounced in place a little bit.

"Purple is kind of our color," Avery said, making Bob laugh as you covered your massive smile with your fingertips. 

"It really is," you replied, wrapping Bob in a quick hug before cautiously placing your hand on Avery's shoulder for a beat. "I have something I wanted to show you. I was hoping to get your opinion."

"Me?" she asked, looking up at you, eyes wide behind her purple frames.

"Yes," you told her softly. "I've been working on a new story for the past week, and I really think you'll be able to help me with the ending."

"What kind of story?" she asked you, and Bob slowly made his way into the kitchen where he could still hear the two of you talking. 

"Well," you told her as she joined you on the couch, "it's about a fairy who gets invited to live in a magic garden. And she starts to learn how to use magic herself while a friendly witch and a kind wizard supervise her. And the garden is really pretty, and she loves it there and starts to make friends with the other creatures. Do you want to take a look at it?"

"Okay."

Bob hovered in the doorway and watched you hand the bound manuscript to the little girl next to you while you chewed nervously on your lip. He knew you wanted this to work out; he did too. He was also very surprised that you'd been working on this for the past week without sharing your secret even with him. But it truthfully wasn't really for him. It was for her. And you.

The child looked up at you and whispered, "You named the fairy Avery."

You just nodded and smiled. "Your name is so pretty, and you remind me of the kind of little girl who would have magic inside her."

Avery turned back to the page in front of her and snuggled in a little bit closer to you. She started reading out loud, and after a few pages, handed it over to you for a little bit. The two of you went back and forth like this for an hour before Bob carried in two plates of dinner and set them on the coffee table. 

"Even magic fairies get hungry," he said softly before leaving both of you to the story.

---------------------------

When you woke up a few weeks later on Avery's ninth birthday, you were beyond exhausted. The past few nights had been late ones for you as you tried to finish up and edit the story you'd been working on. The title that the two of you came up with was The Littlest Fairy in the Garden, and you were just as proud of this as your true crime releases. 

Then you realized that there was actually a reason why you woke up. You could hear Bob talking. It sounded like he was on the phone even though it was barely eight o'clock. You climbed out of bed and stretched before finding him sitting on the floor in the walk-in closet talking softly on the phone in his pajama pants, undershirt and purple glasses.

"I'm sure she's going to agree with me. We want to move forward if that's what Avery wants, but I'll call you back in an hour or two. Thank you so much."

He ended the call right when you asked, "Who was that?"

Bob jumped a bit as he looked up at you with a tentative smile. "Our lawyer," he whispered. 

"What did they say?" you whispered back as he got to his feet and wrapped his arms around you. 

When Bob's lips found your ear, you shivered at his words. "It was just a preliminary conversation, but they asked if we would be interested in pursuing adoption."

"With Avery?" you gasped, and he nodded against you. 

"Yes. With Avery."

Tears filled your eyes as you clung to him. You thought about all the books she'd been reading with you and the birthday cake waiting in the kitchen. You could practically still smell the oatmeal cookies she and Bob made a few days ago. You could picture her smile and imagine her laughter, both of which were coming more easily with each passing day. "I want to adopt her. She belongs here. With us."

"I think so, too," he replied immediately, and you could hear the unshed tears in her voice. "I think we should have a conversation with her about it today. The process could take a little time, but I want to be sure it's what she wants as well."

You nodded, a jerky motion against him as your heart pounded faster and faster. "Let's talk about it when she wakes up."

Bob led you downstairs to the kitchen, his fingers laced with yours, and he started to crack some eggs while you made coffee and fresh orange juice. Avery had picked the menu for each meal today for her birthday, and the plan was to take her to the zoo after lunch. There was currently a purple banner with flowers and fairies on it stretched across the kitchen along with a large assortment of balloons. You couldn't remember being this excited about something in such a long time.

"Good morning," came a soft voice from the bottom of the stairs, and you nearly dropped a mug on the floor as you turned to look at her.

"Happy birthday!" you and Bob replied in unison, and then all three of you started laughing. 

Without another word, Avery made her way into the kitchen in her Minnie Mouse pajamas and gave you a hug around the waist. You gasped softly as you hugged her back, her purple glasses pressing against you. Then she tucked herself against Bob's side and hugged him right after that. "Thanks for all the birthday stuff. And thanks for being so nice to me and getting me glasses and everything."

You and Bob shared a look over her head as he rubbed his hand along her shoulder. "It makes us happy that you're here, Avery," he said softly, and you had to swipe at your tears. "Let's have your breakfast, and maybe we can talk about making this permanent."

"Permanent? Like me staying here for a while?" she asked softly as she looked up at him.

"Like you staying here forever."

--------------------------

This is a little birthday treat for @wkndwlff! I hope you have a great day, Taylor! I set out to write a nice little story based on this mood board, but somehow it turned into this angsty thing instead. Thanks to @sylviebell @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

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[aajjks]

Irreplaceable. (m)

synopsis. He was irreplaceable. You should’ve known that.

warnings. YÄNDÊRÊ CÖNTĚNT, mêntïöns öf kïdnäppïng, ëxtrëmë pösëssïvěnẽss, tǒxïc!göjö, nöncön kïss, prǒfanïty.

note. JJK fans this one’s for you. SEND ASKS AND PLEASE SHARE FEEDBACK ENJOY!

Gojo Saturo, cannot stand you moving on from him.

It makes him want to kill everyone that’s around him, it makes his head fucking explode, he didn’t want to break up

He didn’t want to be away from you, he didn’t want to lose you, but yet he did. He lost you. It was really his fault.

But how could you?

How could you even try to replace him?

Are you that stupid? He understood what a break meant, he was willing to give you a break, he was willing to work on himself. He was willing to do everything, but yet you had to ruin it all.

This was your doing

This wasn’t his fault. You made him do this.

You knew what kind of a man he was, Saturo was a jealous man, extremely possessive and territorial. Did you want to test his patience or were you just trying to make him suffer?

It did work though.

But he wasn’t the only one that suffered the consequences.

It was your current boyfriend too.

What a weak little man, he didn’t even come close to Gojo, your ex didn’t know that you had such bad taste in men. Looking at him almost made. Saturo laugh his ass off.

What a downgrade.

It was really easy though, Saturo didn’t even had to try hard to get rid of him, permanently.

And now he was gone.

And now Gojo is sitting here, hawking at you like a creep, well, you sleep peacefully in his bed, yeah, he kidnapped you.

He was an impulsive man. That was one of his many toxic traits.

He did whatever the fuck he wanted.

And also,

You look so pretty and peaceful like this just like the old times, he could look at you forever. Oh, how much he loves you.

Gojo leans in closer to your face and stares at your face, you look so cute. He wants to kiss you. His gaze travels to your lips and he sighs, his mouth is literally foaming.

He missed you way too much.

Gojo is so impatient, but he’s trying his best to not lose his control, he presses his lips, gently to yours and steals a peck.

“My princess…” he mumbles to himself, just then you start moving, maybe the spell is wearing off, thank God because you’ve been unconscious for a full day.

He was almost starting to get concerned

“hey Baby.” he smiles brightly as he watches you open your eyes, moving your body, so cutely- he finds everything you do, cute.

“W-What the fuck?” that’s the first thing you say, Gojo doesn’t stop smiling, his lips curl up even more, “yes you’re here in my home- no our home baby.” he quickly corrects himself.

“SATURO- WHAT THE FUCK?!” he watches you wince in pain, maybe the spell was too strong, he should’ve been more careful, but he was impatient.

“Shh.. you’re OK you’re safe..” this time he doesn’t even resist the urge to touch your skin, he caresses your forehead with his hands, your forehead is burning.

You have a fever, his smile dies down quick.

“you are burning YN…” should’ve been more careful, you are only a fragile human. Gojo feels guilt bubble up in his chest.

He doesn’t care about the clear panic in your face, you try to slap his hand away, but he doesn’t budge. “baby don’t try to do this right now..” he whispers.

“we’ll talk about this later. We have a lot to talk about anyways.”

“are you fucking insane? WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU?” he holds you down when you try to get up. Saturo rolls his eyes at your struggle.

He’s clearly getting pissed off.

“shut up YN. Yes I’m fucking insane because you tried to replace me. I’m going fucking insane. And that boyfriend of yours is dead… probably.”

Gojo doesn’t even get up from the seat, he glares at you, burning holes into your skin with his gaze.

“I’m fucking fuming. How could you, I was willing to give you space and that’s what you did to me? Immediately tried to replace me with that fucking loser?” he scoffs, and chuckles.

You open your mouth to argue, but he shuts you up, by holding his finger up on your lips, “like I said, shut the fuck up. You know what something I hate and love about you?”

Gojo clicks his tongue, looking at you with this cold blue eyes.

“I love and hate your fucking smart little mouth.”

Gojo caresses your cheek, his finger is feel so so hot on your skin, so soft under his touch.

“Too bad that I missed this pretty little mouth is so much..”

“I missed you way too much to argue like this. And just so you know, I do not regret kidnapping you. And I do not regret doing what I did to your boyfriend.”

You immediately start crying, crying for him to let you go, but he doesn’t listen.

“Stop fucking crying like a baby, now lay down and let me take care of you, come on be a good girl.” he scolds you.

He knows he’s so selfish and cold.

But he doesn’t give a fuck.

“you should’ve known that I was irreplaceable yn, I might’ve given you more time, but you had to do this, now you fucking pissed me off. Too bad that I love you so much though to punish you.”

[tremendum]

Mr. Miller's Injury ; Mr. Miller viii

[not my gif] pairing: joel miller x fem!reader (afab, some use of she/her, use of the words girl/woman) rating: explicit. [18+. mdni] word count: 7.8k summary:  ❝"you aren't doing anything, Mr. Miller," you tilt your head, bending to fit level with his face. "if you recall, you're too injured to even leave the bed."❞ warnings: storm vibes, fairly tame compared to other parts, being stood up, dom!reader, sub!joel (FINALLYYYY), brief slapping, injured!Joel, anger, spitting, brief edging, choking, PiV unprotected, this is porn with no plot, masturbation, slight voyeurism, begging, degradation, age gap kink if you squint, calling joel 'old man', v brief praise kink, lots of pet names SORRY notes: thank u all for ur patience, it's been SO LONG. I am sorry this isn't the longest update but i hope you still enjoy! switching things up a bit bc they're learning to Talk about their Feelings <3 finally <3 there will be another update v v soon as well!!! hope you all enjoy. [previous. this is part eight of the Mr. Miller series.] [masterlist]

[important - i no longer use a taglist. I've made a notifs blog - @tremendumnotifs - for ppl to follow for notifications. tysm!!] ★  

to say you're pissed is an understatement. 

forty-five minutes, you huff as you stare at the ground, forty-five minutes standing alone, looking like a fool in this fucking dress. 

the rain sloshes down on you, sending muddy streams down the sidewalk and under your boots to kiss the streetwater. it's been raining for days - ever since that black out the other night, it's barely let up; you're getting permanently used to your hair heavy from the drops. you glare sharply down at yourself, watching as sheets of water slap against your soaked corduroy jacket - the vibrant thread that sewed it together again all those weeks ago wilted by the water. you pull your jacket tighter over yourself, as if that could help at all. 

you shouldn't fucking be out here right now, getting soaked to the bone. 

sighing harshly, you squint up the street to your own house, lights off and waiting sadly; when you'd left, you'd expected not to return until the morning, anyways. 

but here you are, an hour later, dateless and more furious than you've been in ages.

you feel like a fucking idiot.  

serves you right for trusting that Joel would bother to put on a nice button-up and walk down to the bar to see you. 

you try not to glare against the rain when you pass his house; the lights are glowing from the upstairs window, and your blood boils - he's probably in there sitting around doing nothing because he's too terrified to be a man and face you in person. the bitter taste in your mouth only grows at your brief concern - you didn't see him yesterday at all, but you'd just assumed he was on patrol. 

you're about fifteen steps away from your your front door, already planning on downing a whole bottle of liquor in your bathtub by the time you hear it. 

someone shouting your name. 

turning your neck, you spot Ellie, waving her arm from only twenty feet away; the onslaught of drops has quickened, and you can't hear what she's saying. gritting your teeth, you trudge over to her, trying to hide your exasperation, "what's going on?" 

"been looking for you!" is what she shouts as you walk towards her, shouting through the rain. "-just asking where you've been lookin' like that." she gestures to your dress, one definitely meant to wear at backyard barbecues and not in the middle of torrential downpours. she pulls you by the wrist onto their porch; the lights flicker slightly and it's just barely less dry - you ignore the wall behind you, thinking back to all those months ago when Joel'd had his cock shoved down your throat with your head pressed up against it. 

you blink away the memory, anger simmering in your stomach; you ignore the heat in your abdomen. 

"I had plans." you grunt, crossing your arms. her brows raise doubtfully; so full of sass for a teen. "you seen Joel lately?" you ask, hoping to sound nonchalant; she must pick up on the anger that flows from you; frowning, she jerks her head, "seen him? that's why I was lookin' for you. I've been babying him all day." 

you stare at her, lifting a brow. "babying?" you parrot. 

she frowns, tilting her head; the water sprays in a mist onto you, out of the direct exposure but still splattering fat sheets of rain onto your ankles. "didn't Tommy tell you?" she asks, but you're nearly out of patience. 

you sigh sharply, "no, I haven't seen Tommy. been busy all day at the gardens dealin' with this shit."

this shit has been stressing you out beyond belief - a near monsoon in fucking Wyoming, drowning the crops you very desperately need for the commune. root rot is one thing, but losing all the food you'll need for months is something else. 

"well, neither have I, but if you see him, tell him I could use a hand with his brother." Ellie sasses, arms crossing. for a moment, you nearly laugh - she's standing like Joel, a look of defiance in her eyes. she huffs, "I've been trying to keep Joel in bed, but you know how stubborn he can be. he got injured on patrol yesterday."

a flicker of concern betrays the anger in your heart. you blink at Ellie. "injured? he's injured?"

she glances towards the door then back at you, her own shirt pelted with rainwater. "he dislocated his shoulder. it's pretty bad."

you let out an exasperated sigh; that's where he's been? fucking injured and didn't bother to tell you? you purse your lips, feigning calm as you actively fight off the sense of embarrassment at your own irritation. "I can help you, don't worry." you promise, wishing you'd had a chance to change out of the dress. "if you want a break, I'll make sure he doesn't kill himself for a while." even if you wish he would. 

she smiles, nodding as she turns on her heels, "thank you - you know how he is. didn't even mention he was hurt 'til I found him trying to hide it. been trying to tough it out, I guess."

you follow her into the house, gritting your teeth as you wring water out of your hair. "unbelievable," you mutter under your breath. 

Joel is lying in his bed. 

You resist the arousal that climbs at the vision of him outstretched in bed, propped perfectly on a pillow, hair grown out and curling; instead seething with irritation at him. 

"what the hell is this, Miller?" you say in lieu of a greeting, crossing your arms the second he makes eye contact with you. he's surprised to see you, but not as surprised as you'd hoped.

he looks as terse as ever, eyes darting from you to Ellie, who lingers in the doorway. he grunts, shifting slightly and wincing. "hurt m'self." 

you resist a laugh of disbelief, smiling sarcastically, "I can see that." 

he is too fucking stubborn - you're too fucking stubborn, too; there's a beat, then you give in, "you couldn't have sent someone to tell me not to show up? I looked like a complete dick down there by myself." you snap, wounded. he rolls his eyes, "well I sent her to ya, didn't I?" he snaps, gesturing to Ellie with his good hand. she shakes her head, throwing her hands up, "I don't want any part in...whatever this is." 

she disappears after muttering something about finally getting some peace and quiet - it's silent until you hear her bedroom door slam, the rain pelting down against the windowpanes. 

unable to hide any longer in the quiet, you cross your arms. he sighs. "look..." he mutters, wincing as he sits up slightly. "I'm sorry I couldn't find ya. y'don't deserve t'be sittin' alone by yourself like that." 

you clench your jaw, nodding, "you're right, Joel. I'm sorry you're hurt, I understand, it's just-" your doubts creep back in and you shake your head. "I don't know what I thought." you chicken out, looking away. 

you hear his breathing; it seems to move with your chest - a patient, quiet breath that waits for your anger to subside. 

"this ain't 2003, sweetheart," he finally says, but there's a warmness in his voice; it is wholly familiar and foreign at the same time. "can't jus' text you to let y'know I fell and dislocated my shoulder." he sighs gruffy; you huff, walking closer to the bed. "yeah, that and if it was 2003, I'd still be learning to ride a bike." 

his eyes are sharp on you - a reminder of that unspoken thing, that tension that lives between you and him, pushes you further "don't." he says lowly, eyeing you stormily as the rain forges on outside. "don't remind me of why I shouldn't be doin' this." 

the hesitation that always lingers between you sneaks up like mist through a forest; you push at it, wading through until you're next to where he reposes in bed. you can't resist the smirk that plays at your lips. "you aren't doing anything, Mr. Miller," you tilt your head, bending to fit level with his face. "if you recall, you're too injured to even leave the bed." 

he hums, eyes stirring with that playfulness that you never quite expect; he tilts his chin up and it's all you can do to not kiss the lips that part beneath you. "c'mere an' make me feel better then, would'ya?" 

you lift a brow, letting your lips brush just over his cupid's bow, imbued with the thick hairs of his mustache. you shake your head gently; he thinks everything's fine after a measly sorry? 

"really?" you whisper against his lips, "you expect me to come play nurse and give myself to you just like that?" you tut. a swirl of desire in your gut when his good hand slides up the back of your thigh, squeezing the round of your ass. 

you hope he cannot see the goosebumps up your thighs at his touch. 

"y'didn't even play nurse." he argues, tilting his head up at you. you cross your arms, unimpressed; he sighs sharply. "sweetheart, 'm sorry." he offers again. you roll your eyes, "whatever, Joel." you whisper, leaning close to him; the way he looks up at you is saccharine; revenge must be the only thing sweeter. an idea creeps into your mind; a taste of his own medicine.

you let your lips brush his, but then pull back slightly. "if I can wait for you, you can wait for me." you say, pressing a chaste kiss to Joel's lips. his eyes are no longer clouded in that warm brightness; no, he is cloudy with irritation. you bite back a grin as you pull away from him, eyeing the chair next to the bed. "the fuck's that mean?" he grunts, eyes hawkish as they travel with you, lowering until you're comfortable in the chair. you let his gaze travel the expanse of your legs; the dress you chose to wear to your date is soaked - it sticks to your thighs and reveals more than you'd expect - you don't shy away, though. when it's Joel, you can never shy away.

"what are you doin'?" he questions again, voice deep with growing interest. 

you smirk sultrily, tilting your head as you hum, propping your foot just next to his leg, on display for his gaze. 

you spread your legs gently, letting your hands explore the planes of the body you know so well; over your chest, you flick wet strands of hair away from your slick skin before skimming over your curves. a flicker of lightning in the window and Joel's eyes are darker than before; you hum, "I'm keeping you company, Joel." you simper, letting the strap of the dress slip slowly off your shoulder on one side, your hand traveling down your chest and imagining his own rough, calloused ones. "unless you'd prefer I leave?" you ask with a small pout. 

"I'd prefer if you stop bein' a brat and get the fuck over here." he snaps; patience worn thin, you just smirk, knowing he's enjoying the display of your body for him in the dark room. 

you slowly lift the hem of your skirt up, over your hips; his eyes hungrily devour the lace you wore - a treat for him at the end of your date, you'd thought - now teasing.

you make a show of slipping a hand into your underwear, gasping gently as your fingers slide through your folds. you flush at the arousal that has gathered there - there might be something to say about how turned on you get when you're pissed at Joel - yet you let yourself relax, gently moaning as you rub your sensitive clit with one finger. 

Joel sits up, his eyes dark and lip caught between his teeth as he watches you; he winces slightly, but ignores the pain, “let me.” he says, trying to sound authoritative. you just smirk, shaking your head. “no.”

Joel ought to learn to be patient.

so you resume, your finger gently sliding inside you;  it’s nowhere near how it feels when Joel touches you, but you'd never dare admit such secrets out loud. instead, you add another finger; curling them, you let out a moan, biting your lip only when you remember there is another person in the house. thankfully, the rain slams on the windows hard enough to mask what noise you've let escape your lips. 

Joel stares at you as if it's torture; you can see his own arousal growing in his pants; even as he adjusts, his brows drawn and breathing sharp. sliding the other strap off your shoulder, you let the top of your dress fall; your breasts on full display, nipples perking at the cold nip of the air. 

"god damn it," he hisses, "quit your fuckin' teasing." 

you don't, though: and he cannot conceal the groan he lets out as you push your chest out, arching your back as you start to thumb your clit. pleasure courses through you, soaking your panties as you watch Joel watch you. 

his hand barely twitches before you shake your head, "don't touch yourself." you snap, eyes sharp as you watch his palm press over his obvious hard-on. 

he glares at you. 

"y'think you can tell me what to do?" he snaps, eyes sharp though you can see the flush on his cheeks at your words. this makes you stop; instantly you're pulling your fingers out of yourself, sitting forward - his eyes widen only slightly when you stand, suddenly standing over him again. 

he is a dream - laid back, cheeks red and eyes sharp from the tease, straining nearly out of his pants in his desire. he pants, swallowing as you trail your fingernails over his chest slowly; up, higher... 

your hand wraps around his throat - it looks small, next to his tanned skin, but the way he swallows, the way his cock twitches - he loves it. you do, too. you lift a brow. "don't think I won't fucking leave you here like you left me alone at the Bison." tilting your head, you smirk. "someone has to put you in your place, right?" 

his jaw is taut as he blinks at you, not daring to argue. you tilt your head, staring at him until he rolls his eyes, shaking his head. "fine, darlin'." he grunts, "have it your way." 

his hand slides away from his crotch and with a satisfied smirk, you let go of his throat. "don't move your hand from the mattress unless you want me to leave." you snap, sending him a look, "okay?" 

his jaw ticks, as if deciding how much power to give up. he sighs sharply, "fine."

satisfied at his answer, you slide your underwear off your legs, leaving the dress on your torso.

Joel swallows hard, cheeks pink with desire as you climb up onto his lap; his eyes watch you warily, knowing you well enough to know you wouldn't give in this easily. 

and you haven't. 

instead you slide back slightly onto his thighs, relieving the brief pressure of your heat over his clothed cock; you snake your hand down, returning your fingers to your heat to find the velvety arousal waiting for you. he watches with lidded eyes and a slacked jaw. sighing, you wiggle your hips, gasping as the tips of your fingers brush your sensitive clit. your other hand rises to pinch a nipple gently, eyes locked on Joel's. he's halfway delirious - exasperated, irritated, melting with desire. 

"is this better, Joel?" your voice drips with antagonism as you slowly slip two fingers into your dripping cunt, "you wanted me close, didn't you?" 

he says nothing; watching you, his hips move with yours, providing you with friction as you touch yourself on his lap. a muttered curse under his breath until you whine gently, fingers stretching yourself as you wish it was him. 

"god damn it." he mutters, head falling against the pillow, staring up at the ceiling as if in silent prayer. you can see him searching for some god, high up there, who will take him out of this torturous pleasure. there is a burning desire, a sweet pride, knowing that you are the only one who can. "-gonna be the death of me, darlin'." 

it is not the first time he's said this. in fact, the night you first fucked around with Joel he said something very similar as you walked the patrol logs to Maria and Tommy's; the memory makes you flush, the anticipation, the butterflies, the shock. 

the first time Joel put his hands on your skin, caressed you, fucked you. 

"y'gonna let me fuck you, sweetheart?" his voice always slips into that Texan accent more when he is aroused; the heat spreads over your body and goosebumps crawl over your legs as you let your head fall back - moaning his name, you thumb your clit gently. it never feels good enough when you do it yourself; hiding this truth, you hum, sending Joel a salacious smirk. "if you want me, you're going to have to beg for it." 

this seems to have brought him back to Earth, back to this bed, to remember who it is that straddles him, who it is he desires most in this town. he bristles at your play for dominance. "-oughta fuck you 'til you remember who you're talkin' to. remember your manners." he snaps - his desperation is leaking through; you can only smile knowingly as you buck your hips on his thick thighs. pleasure starts to pool in your stomach as you tilt your head back, your thumb flicking over your sensitive nipples. he watches the movement like a hawk; angry, straining with pleasure but unable to do anything against your ministrations.

you lean yourself, not daring to stop your movements - instead, your hand slips from your breast to return itself to Joel's throat; squeezing as you feel yourself tremor with ecstasy. the want in his eyes drives you forward. 

"where are your manners, old man?" you whisper, breath hot as it fans across his lips. "standing up a pretty girl like me?" you tut, shaking your head. "such a mean man. you know, I could have my pick here in Jackson-" you sigh, feeling yourself pulse with your imminent high, your fingers pumping into yourself and pleasure coursing through you. 

he lets out a sigh, a whisper upon your own lips, "-I know, baby." he grunts, hips bucking against yours, seeking any kind of friction for himself. something about his desire, how you've rendered Joel Miller completely desperate and breathless for you, nearly pushes you to the edge. 

"-fuck, 'm sorry, darlin'," he grunts; his hand grips the sheet below him, his voice quieted with the knowledge that Ellie remains somewhere in the house. You swirl your hips, nearing your high as your head tilts back; you move, your tits bouncing as you do, gasping gently. a part of you wishes to see how far you could push it - could he cum in his pants like this, barely touched? 

but a yearning desire to be filled by him overtakes that thought. 

"see-" you cut yourself off with a quiet, sweet moan, pulsing around yourself, "see how wet I am?" you spread your thighs open further, leaning back; his eyes, hungry and unrelenting, stare down at the apex of your thighs, where you've made a wet patch upon his pants, where you fuck yourself on your fingers. "yeah, baby. let me feel that pretty pussy, then." he grunts.

you lift a brow. Joel lets out a desperate moan, eyes rolling gently as you pitch your hips forward, grazing his straining cock. You eye him coyly. "where's that please you love to hear so much, Joel?" you hum, your thighs trembling as you stave off your orgasm. "or have you already forgotten how to speak?" 

his eyes strain as he resists the urge to put his palm over you - your tits, your face, your cunt - you grin in satisfaction. good. "jesus," he grunts, "lord- just-" he clenches his jaw, hips bucking up against you; you gasp at the friction it causes, pushing your palm into your clit hard. "-let me fuck you." he tries to order.

you shake your head, "beg for it." you says, breathless as you scrunch your eyes shut, nearing your orgasm. "beg for me, Joel." you say again, clenching- so close- 

his grip finds your hand, tugging you away from your seeping cunt so quick you barely know what's happening. you gasp, eyes flying open; his eyes are not nearly as sharp as they were- no, they're begging, pleading: wide, staring up at you like you floated down from Heaven above. 

"-don't cum yet, please." he says, voice breathless, "wanna feel you 'round me. promise, I'll do anything you want, anything - please." 

you could cum untouched at just the words, the arousal dripping from his lips, the way his eyes drink you in like he never wants to see anything else. 

the breath tumbles out of your lips, staring at him with satisfaction, your own cheeks flushed. "was that so hard?" you pull him in for a kiss that has him keening, tongue struggling to fight for the dominance you refuse to give up. even if it took Joel dislocating his shoulder, you will not let him take away your first real breath of control over him. you lean in to his ear, biting his lobe softly as his breath hitches, "now let go of my fucking hand." you whisper coldly. 

he drops it like dead weight. 

smirking, you lean back, lifting your fingers between you and him; your slick coats them, shining with your evident arousal and desire. you don't have to ask; he's taking your wrist gently and pushing your fingers to his lips in a second. 

you watch in awe, desire simmering deep within you as his tongue laps every drop of your arousal from your fingers, his eyes rolling back in his head, groaning gently at the taste of you. "fuck, sweetheart-" he moans and you're unsure if you've ever heard something so delicious. "please, let me feel you." 

you hum, roving your hips over his, sliding until you straddle him properly; his fist, squeezed and wanting, clenches against the sheets below him. a part of you flourishes within your chest as you watch him - so clearly aroused, yet letting you take the reins for once and doing what you say. 

experimentally, you drag a hand down his chest. careful to avoid his left shoulder, which is propped up and slung with a makeshift sling from an old t-shirt, you explore him. 

Joel has never really let you look at him very much before; you smile, eyes trailing over his puffing chest, his stomach, down to where you roll your wet cunt over the fabric of his jeans. the texture is rough - you nearly yelp as your clit catches on the cold metal button; Joel's lips quirk up in a small smirk at the noise you let out. 

you ignore his stare, not letting yourself think about how full of admiration it is at the moment; no, you let yourself bathe in the arousal, in the waiting that Joel has patiently gone through for you. your eyes find his face - that rugged, guarded expression: you see the flicker of vulnerability within them that you're slowly getting used to, that warmth that always catches on your heartbeats and makes them skip or pound just that much quicker. 

so patient now, but where was he hours ago, when he could have come told you in person he couldn't make your date, or hell even just sent Ellie? 

"somethin' wrong, baby?" he asks, voice low - his brow is similarly so, drawn over his eyes and you nearly lean to kiss the concern away; you remember the stares you'd gotten at the Tipsy Bison just an hour ago, sitting alone - another bout of irritation washes over you. "y'tired of tryin' to tell me what to do?" 

you let out a small huff, "thinkin' about what I was gonna let you do to me in the bathroom at the Bison tonight." 

it's barely a hint at anything, but his eyes shut at the image. "I'm s-" 

you really don't want to hear it - he's already apologized several times, and you forgive him. now, you're much more focused on giving what you get. "-shut up, Joel." you snap - and he does. 

jaw snapping shut, he watches you as you move on him, eyes desperate, hungry. 

you let your hand slide over the wet patch you've made to palm him, squeezing his cock experimentally. it throbs, twitches; the breath catches in his throat at your palm and you hum. he lets out a low moan when you unclasp his jeans, tugging then down enough to let his cock spring free. 

he's impossibly hard; leaking precum and throbbing, Joel stares up at you as you dance your fingertips around the course hair at the base, watching him move under you. his lips are parted, but nothing more than grunts and breaths leave them; you grin. "what's wrong, Mr. Miller?" you tilt your head, "scared you'll cum too quick?" 

his eyes roll at your sass, but whatever lip he was about to deliver is cut off when you move your hips upward; grazing over his aching cock is your wet arousal, your cunt enveloping him in your heat. it's as much a tease to him as it is to you - you're aching with need, cunt swallowing around nothing each time you slide your hips against his cock and feel it slide through your slick.

"please." it is like a breath in the wind, but it makes you smirk. your hand slides to hold his jaw, tilting his head until he looks at you straight-on - his eyes are wide and pleading, begging. it coils something very deep within you. 

"you're real handsome like this, Joel." you say, just to watch the blush over his cheeks. his brows furrow, nostrils flaring; irritated, bashful, embarrassed. "I love it when you're so desperate you can't think straight." 

he lifts a brow, not daring to say anything - you see the knowing look in his eyes, though; he loves it just as much as you do. you wonder, briefly, if he's ever really let go like this before, let someone else take control. it makes you throb to think you might be the first one. your clit brushes to head of his dick and you both gasp; your hand slides until your thumb pulls on his bottom lip. parting his mouth, he watches you expectantly - a tingle within you as you realize what he expects without having to tell you, and so you do it. spitting, you watch as your saliva mixes with his on his tongue and he groans, swallowing it quickly. 

fuck, it feels good; your slick has ruined his jeans and you've run out of patience. 

slowly, you rise to your knees and grasp his cock, giving two pumps that have his eyes shutting and swears tumbling from his bitten lips. but then, you notch him at your entrance, swallowing thickly at his size - no matter how many times you take Joel, it's always a stretch.

he feels it too, his eyes widening in bliss. "c'mon, now-" he becomes impatient; you serve him a warning look, lifting a brow. his expression is one of pure resentment and arousal - you're relieved for a moment that he truly is injured, otherwise you know your ass would be spanked completely raw and you'd probably be fucked out on the floor having alerted the whole neighborhood. 

"quit actin' like you've never done this before," he snaps, clearly fed up with playing around, "like you weren't made to slut yourself out on my cock. let me feel you." but his eyes meet yours, and he tilts his head, adding a small, sarcastic, "please."  

a shiver of desire cascades over you; irritation at him standing you up, at getting injured and not telling you, at the storm for ruining your crops - all the frustration dissipates when you sink yourself slowly onto Joel, feeling him split you open. 

you moan in tandem with him, taking him as low as you can go until you let out a short whine, feeling his cock punch your cervix. deep- he always gets so fucking deep. 

you remain slow because you know he wants it fast. a rise and fall of your hips, teasing, as he drags alongside your channels, your cunt squeezing him deliciously. you're already nearing bliss once again, eyes fluttering at the feeling; using him, taking what you need. 

his own eyes are screwed shut, jaw more tense than you've seen before; breathing heavily, it's as if he's trying to fight an orgasm already. you smirk, shaking your head, "already so close, old man?" you tut, leaning back to balance one hand on his lower thigh, the other hiking up your dress so that he can see your slick, where his cock is swallowed by your greedy pussy. 

you sigh, the feeling euphoric as his hips slowly buck to meet yours, fucking into you as you bounce on him. you try not to let your eyes roll back, taking in the slow sweetness of him filling you to the brim. "you're so fucking lucky, you know that?" you hiss, eyes knitting together. "such a fuckin' asshole, yet here I am letting you fuck me." 

he groans, head falling backwards and his free fist not wrapped in the sling fisting the sheets with a death grip. you slow your hips slightly when he doesn't respond, watching him with arousal swirling across your vision. a low fire burns bright within your core, your orgasm building up again. 

“fuck," he nearly moans it, "I know. I know. just- don’t fuckin' stop, baby.”

you've never heard him this desperate; it shoots ecstasy through your very veins, curling your toes and making you clench around him, throbbing in pleasure. "pussy's fuckin' heaven." he mutters to himself. you flutter, shivering down your spine.

"dirty man," you whimper, starting to fuck yourself onto him harder; you bite back a moan as you hear your wet cunt against him, legs beginning to shake. "how long did you know me before you decided you wanted me, hm?"

he lets out a low groan, hand flying to rake through his curls as he bucks his hips with yours. your hand flies to his cheek, landing a smack upon the apple of it. a light slap, one to make sure he's paying attention; the doe-look in his eyes makes your arousal coil, that spring getting tighter and tighter.

is this how he feels when you're underneath him, looking up at him like that? "I asked you a question." you whisper.

"m-moment I saw you," he says, "y'know that, baby." he affirms, barely able to string his words together. warmth courses through you at the admission, so free, so honest. 

"fantasized about me for months, didn't you? and now you have me, and you're leaving me all alone on our first date?" you shake your head, pushing your hair away from your face before toying with your tits once again, sighing as you shiver. you're chasing your high already, spurred on by his flustered state, by the power you've found within it. 

the rain slams on the windows outside, but you couldn't care less. 

you know he's injured; you know Joel, he wouldn't intentionally hurt you - but standing you up on your first date still stings, and you're not afraid to let him know. 

you're close to your orgasm, and Joel can tell - his thighs are thick cords of muscle beneath you as he begins to fuck up into you, tip of his cock pushing against your cervix and making you bite back a scream of pleasure. 

you cast yourself forward, avoiding his injured shoulder as you nip along his neck, tongue sliding against the damp, hot skin. "we can play games all we want, Mr. Miller," you whisper against his ear, relishing in the deep spot he hits within you, "but we both know. I own you." 

he lets out a groan at this, his hips bucking up into you; you gasp as his cock punches your cunt, hitting so deep you keen upwards, toes curling. fuck. "yeah baby, I'm yours-" his voice nearly breaks as he says it, looking as if fighting an internal war over risking further injury to his shoulder if it means pulling you down harder against him. "fuck, so fuckin' pretty like this, all mine." 

his chattermouth seems to have returned; in great time, too, as you grip the hand he's cemented to the sheets and shove it between you two, gasping as you near your high. 

"make me cum," you instruct, "make me cum, then maybe I'll let you cum. can you do that?" 

it is an echo of what he'd asked you just days ago in your own bed; with the rain pouring down, flickering in candlelight. 

"fuck," he mutters, "yes." he affirms; you nod, too blissed out to respond more. his fingers spring to life desperately, his own thrusts sloppy as he seemingly tries to stave off his own orgasm. your body is on an electric wire; every muscle clenches when his rough fingers find your clit, toying and rubbing furiously to bring you to that brink. "g-good, that's so good-" you moan, trying desperately to control the volume of your voice as you shake with pleasure. "don't fucking cum, Miller." you order, hand falling to his throat. he moans, nodding. 

"please," he says it quietly; you see the hunger, that darkness in his eyes as he strains. you gasp, a wave hitting you as he begs, "please, cum for me, pretty girl." he groans, "wanna feel it. c'mon-" 

you hit your orgasm with a gasp and a low, drawn out moan. it rolls over you in waves, pulsing, dragging you into the current and spitting you, heaving, back into the universe. he's pressed his hand over your mouth; a desperate plea to remain undiscovered, as your hand falls similarly to his mouth from his throat.

you feel his lips form your name under your fingers; it feels like home. 

his eyes fall shut in pleasure and his head tilts back, exposing the entire expanse of his throat for you to claim; he looks like fucking heaven.

you kiss Joel's neck lightly as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him steadily as his fingers fly up; too weak of desire, you let him grip the side of your thigh. "shit," he mutters, "darlin', I'm close-" 

shaking your head, you stare at him, "didn't tell you you could cum yet, did I?" 

the taste of his own medicine looks divine upon his face; the graying facial hair glinting in the rainy light outside, his thick neck on display again. he growls and it stirs something delicious within you. 

you feel your grip on reality - on your control, on him - start to loosen as your thrusts become sloppy. "Joel," you whine looking into his eyes. it's as if he snaps. 

he’s surging up, kissing you deeply as groans fall from his lips, his arm rising to your waist to hold you as you move. this position hits the perfect spot inside you that you have to bite hard on his good shoulder to avoid screaming in ecstasy. 

the rain washes away the sound of skin against skin but you feel it, you feel him everywhere. 

"I'm close," he mutters. your eyes are screwed shut; you jolt when you feel the pad of his thumb rubbing figure-eights on your clit and you nearly writhe in his hold, whispering, "don't- you'll hurt yourself."

"don't fuckin' care." he almost growls, beginning to drive up into you, tilting until your toes curl and your whole body shakes. "jus' wanna cum with you. can I cum with you, baby?" 

his voice is so desperate your eyes nearly roll back. you move your hips, chasing the high that you can feel coming. you clench, feeling the familiar feeling creeping on you, your cunt puffy and spent; hungry. his hand grips tight on the junction of your leg and hip, fingers squeezing the sides of your ass as he pulls you down onto him, grunting with his eyes closed. 

he looks angelic like this, flushed and wide-eyes as he bites his lip. your eyes meet his and you nod, "cum with me, Joel, yes-" 

you shake as you hit your high, legs giving out a bit as you pulse and clench around his cock. it immediately makes him cum, thrusting into you and shooting hot spurts deep inside you, his moan desperate and full of pleasure. "could stay with you forever," he says, voice hollow and spent, warm and tired as he pushes his length impossibly deeper into you, sending you keening. your thighs quiver, feeling the cum that leaks from you drip onto his jeans; your heart stops, a wash of flattery over you suddenly as you register his words. "keep you with me forever." 

your heart is suddenly pounding, chest heaving, eyes blissful. you stay, arms on him as his good arm stays around you, pulling your weight on top of him. his cock still throbs gently inside you as you press your cheek against his chest. 

keep you with me forever. you sigh at the thought, blinking syrupy, pressing a kiss over his chest.  

you open your mouth; in fact, the sentiment is there, unspoken and unadmitted but still lingering like clouds and sunsets and uncertainty and fear in your mind. something like love. 

but he cuts you off before you can even speak, "I'm sorry," he mumbles, lips brushing against your hairline, "I wanted tonight to be perfect. I'm sorry I got hurt, 'n I'm sorry I didn't tell ya." 

you swallow back your words, nodding, "Joel, I understand. tell me next time." 

he nods, "jus' gotta stop fucking this up." he says, voice slightly anxious. furrowing your brows, you sit up slightly; you both wince at your sore bodies, but you don't mind. frowning, you take in the melancholy that's settled now that the haze of lust as subsided. this isn't normal; trying to navigate any kind of relationship itself is difficult, let alone your rocky start with each other - god forbid you have rough patches, misunderstandings.

Joel has shown his capacity to mature, to work on himself, and you wouldn't dare write that off as nothing. you know it isn't - you know just a few of the many things Joel has seen in his time. you will learn when he is ready, but for now you wait, patient. 

"hey," you say softly, guiding his cheek in your palm. he looks at you with large eyes as you shake your head, "you care about me" you affirm. 

he nods with no hesitation, "yes, I do. I-" he cuts himself off, looking away before taking a breath, "jus' don't deserve you, s'all." 

you shrug, "well, I care about you too. that's what matters. everything else, we're just..." you purse your lips with a small smile, giddy at the thought of his words earlier; in this life, finding any kind of happiness is wholly unrealistic and more than a privilege. and yet, you have this man in front of you; a protector, a friend, a lover - things are fucked up, yes, but there isn't anything in this world that isn't. 

perhaps it's time to start maturing; perhaps it's time to start seeing things for what they are. 

"figuring it out?" he offers, looking almost hopeful. you nod; he kisses you fully, lips tasting a faint hint of your arousal from earlier. 

he hums as his hand trails over your back, up your neck. "your hair's still wet." he observes against your lips, hand carding through the strands. you nod bashfully, "was pouring out earlier." you remind him. 

he hums, "still is." he observes, chin jutting to the window. you look on, taking in the tears that slide down the panes violently; a cry from the world, though your heart is filled with something much more joyous. "s'ppose it's too late to take you to get drinks, then?" he suggests, giving you a look. you look at him wildly, "you're injured, Joel." 

he sighs, "don't matter, like I said." he argues. you huff, shaking your head, "I heard you were being babied all day, and now you want to walk down into town in the torrential downpour?" 

he stiffens, lifting a brow; you flush when you feel his semi-hard cock warm inside you. "who the hell said I was bein' a baby?" he says; you laugh. he laughs, too. it's nice. 

shaking your head, you sigh. "we'll wait until you feel better, Joel. then you can take me for as many drinks as you'd like." 

he sighs, "get'ya all the liquor left in this place if I can help it." he mutters, kissing your hairline again, "I'm sorry, again." 

you kiss his lips, knowing he means it. "I know you are." you whisper back, a hand soothing over him. his eyes are a deep honey, searching yours with vulnerability; you're reminded of his words from just moments ago and flush. 

Joel speaks up again first. "would you-" he swallows thickly, and you turn to watch him, still bathing in the afterglow of two orgasms, his cock still snug within you. his good hand slides over your spine, "would you stay the night?" he asks, eyes vulnerable, "y'can borrow some clothes." he offers, looking over your soaked dress hopefully. 

something flutters in your stomach and you nod, "sure, I'd like that." 

he's never invited you explicitly like this; you smile gently, deciding not to tease him for the blush upon your cheeks. you watch the curve of his nose, the curve of his jawline as he suppresses a bashful grin - you flicker with a stir of arousal. "can I use your shower?" you ask, eyes flickering to the bathroom that connects to his room. clearing his throat, he nods. "'course." 

you purse your lips, "can you get in the shower with your shoulder like that?" you ask; his brow lifts in interest, some kind of arousal swirling in the depths of his eyes. "for a piece of this ass?" he mutters, hand groping your left cheek hungrily, "I can at least try." 

you roll your eyes, ignoring the newly restored desire that grows between your thighs, smirking. "I should say you should take me to dinner first." 

he chuckles, "ship's sailed on that, I think." he slaps your ass, watching with sharp eyes as the flesh bounces with the impact. "I'll make y'dinner when I'm healed, though." 

you hum against his lips, sliding off of him and gasping at the feeling of his cum slipping between your thighs. you yelp lightly, grinning as you rise up and he slaps your ass again. "help clean me up first," you whisper, pressing a kiss to his nose, "then I'll consider it." 

.

follow @tremendumnotifs for updates.

.

[mrsriddlenott]

CAN U WRITE SOME MATTHEO RIDDLE SMUT?! I GOT AN IDEA!! The (fem) reader obsessed with mattheos abs arms viens hands- anyways- they’re making out in her dorm and she starts dry humping him and eventually c0ckw@arming Mattheo for litteraly hours on end and her skirt covers them up but they’re hanging out with their friends the whole time-

~ Patience ~

[masterlist][Pt2]

Bf!Mattheo Riddle x Fem!reader

Thank you for the idea I’ve been wanting to do something like this so I hope you enjoy it🥰☺️

Warnings:Dom Sub Dynamics, Cockwarming,Orgasm Denial(?),Exhibitionism,Smut.

As soon as the bathroom door opened your eyes started roaming your boyfriend’s beautifully sculpted body as you unknowingly began chewing on your bottom lip, letting your eyes follow the drops of water trailing through the line between his abs.

“See something you like Pretty Girl?” Mattheo chuckled as he strutted out of the bathroom in only a towel. You lightly hummed at his words as your eyes traveled down his prominent veins on his wet biceps and forearms. Your eyes lingered on his large hand holding his towel together as he laughed at your obvious neediness.

“Something you want Princess?” Mattheo asked in a deep, teasing voice as he moved to where you sat cross legged on his bed.

“Yes Sir.” You almost immediately spoke, perking up at his closeness. In any other case you’d be embarrassed at your readiness to respond, but you were far too horny to care.

“Well, you’ll just have to be a good girl and be patient for me, our friends will be here any minute and I need to get dressed Baby,” Mattheo said in a voice laced in false pity before chuckling at your whine as he made his way to his dresser, dropping his towel and showing off his semi-hard dick for you to see. He took his time picking out his clothes as you watched him, squirming and clenching your thighs together. He dressed slowly before pulling you into a passionate kiss by your chin, shoving you to your back and caging you in his arms on his bed.

Mattheo had zero intention of giving you the release you were aching for as he let his fingers trail down your body, fingering the waistband of your skirt before moving back up to your neck, repeating his actions as you whined under him. Your lips moved in sync as his tongue explored your mouth, making you moan lightly and grind on his thigh desperately. He chuckled into your mouth as his door opened, pulling away and eyeing you as you huffed up at him.

“Hey Theo, did you bring it?” Mattheo asked, eyeing you with a smirk before leaving you shocked and frustrated on his bed as he stood to meet Theo and Blaise, walking to the small couch Mattheo had seated next to his bookshelf. You huffed as you sat up and eyed Mattheo who only smirked and sent you a wink before grabbing one of the joints Theo had brought.

“Patience Princess” Mattheo’s voice spoke in your head, making you jump slightly, drawing the attention of the other two boys.

“You okay y/n/n?” Blaise asked through a hit as he lit a joint for himself. You sighed and slightly jumped off the edge of Mattheo’s bed and made your way to his bathroom, feeling his eyes on you as you slammed the door behind you.

“Baby….I know you’re not seriously thinking about finishing alone….?” As you felt Mattheo’s mind searching through your own you pulled yourself up to sit on the counter of his sink, closing your eyes and focusing hard on filling your brain with images of you touching yourself.

It wasn’t even a full minute before Mattheo was rushing into the room and slamming the door behind him, you giggled at his frustration as he eyed you, still clothed and decent on the counter. However, instead of immediately throwing himself at you as you had expected, he roughly grabbed you by your wrist with a whispered growl of “Needy brat”, pulling you from the bathroom as you stumbled to keep up.

When you were dragged into his room you noticed now that Enzo and Draco had joined the others, filling the room with smoke and the smell of alcohol. Mattheo gently shoved you down onto his bed when you got to it, quickly following after you, hands immediately pulling you into his chest.

“Is this what you want? You want to be fucked in front of all our friends Princess?” He spoke in your thoughts, his lips ghosting over your neck, hands gripping your hips and rutting his hard dick against your behind. Your eyes widen as you noticed his hand falling to pull himself discreetly from his boxers and rest himself on the waistband of his grey sweats. Your mind raced with thoughts of him taking you with no care in the world as his mind invaded yours seeking consent.

“Don’t make a sound Baby, you’re gonna hold me while I think on your punishment for being such a needy little brat,” As his words filled your mind, he pushed himself fully inside of you, resting his arm over your waist and his head in your neck, pulling you close under the guise of innocent cuddling as your skirt hid his dick that was lost inside you to the hilt.

Mattheo groaned as you clenched around him, giving you a warning squeeze on your hip as he began conversation with Theo. You were growing more and more impatient as the conversation topic switched from quidditch to parties to holiday plans as you attempted to join in every once in a while, at Mattheo’s orders in your thoughts.

After the first hour you were already drenching the front of his sweats as he pulsed and twitched inside you at every little movement. He could admit, he was growing impatient as well, only he was much better at holding back than you ever were. He began teasing you in your mind as he allowed you to clench around him, ignoring the conversation with his friends as he watched you close your eyes in frustration at his words.

He chuckled at you, conveniently at the same moment Blaise made a joke that went unheard as Mattheo began filling your mind with dirty thoughts. Images of Mattheo pushing you to your stomach and pounding into you had you almost moaning as he warned you of the consequences of making any noise.

“Your pretty sounds are just for me Baby,” He’d speak through the images of the various positions he’d take you in after your friends decide to leave for their own manors.

After the second hour Mattheo began slowly, so slowly it was barley noticeable to even you at first, circling his hips, just as much for his release as yours. Your lips threatened to release moans as his tip rubbed against your g-spot over and over at every one of his movements. He breathed heavily as he restrained himself from destroying you in front of your stoned and drunk group of friends.

Mattheo feared one or all of the boys would see or even hear his actions but it only stirred him on further. The thought of being caught had him aching inside you as he made a mental note to discuss his new discovery with you later on.

As the third hour approached Mattheo decided he’d had enough of his own game. Shocking you as he abruptly pulled out of you, hiding the evidence of your actions as he told your friends you were tired, practically forcing them out the door with no further explanation before leaping back onto the bed.

His hands were immediately pulling your clothes off your body as you tugged at his. He was back inside you before either of you were fully unclothed. You skirt was pushed up your bare torso as he nipped and licked at your chest and neck. You gripped his bare, sweaty shoulders as he pounded into you, finally speaking out loud as he praised your patience.

~~~~

[house-of-lovin]

legally binded - 9

Jenna Ortega x F!Reader

masterlist | series mast. | prev. part | next part

Chapter 9 : Grand Prix and Grand Gestures

Summary: After getting caught in some hot waters with the press, you are forced into an unexpected agreement with America's sweetheart, Jenna Ortega to save your career.

Warnings/Tags: famous!reader, actress!reader, mentions of substances, intoxication, mature language, real people. (do not read if any of these make you uncomfortable)

(this is all fiction!)

Note: sorry for the long wait for this new chapter, just enjoying my summer yk! anyways, thanks for your guys' continued support and patience! much love!!

Word Count: 5.6k+

When Jenna stepped out of her room at precisely 4:45 AM, with the early morning sun yet to rise, the last thing she expected to find was the shared kitchen to be a mess. 

Courtesy of you, of course. ‘Cause who else?

“What the hell are you doing to our kitchen?” Jenna croaked out, running a hand against the plastered wall as a guide as she tiredly rubbed her sleep-filled eyes with the other. When the blurring in her vision goes away, they settle on you looking… wired, like you’d had three cups of espresso already. 

“Good morning!” You whispered, admiring her messy bedhead with a large toothy smile. “I’m making you breakfast.”

“Why?” She asked, voice hoarse. You rolled your eyes as you passed her a steaming mug of coffee without a word causing her to flick a brow up, opting to take a sip instead of questioning it. 

“I’m making you breakfast so you don’t go to work hungry, again.” You explained matter-of-factly, turning your back to check on the stove. The younger actress couldn’t stave off her surprise that you’ve noticed her skipping the most important meal of the day. “Now I’m not the best cook. But, I learned a thing or two about making a mean avocado toast, and since you’re vegetarian… it’s really the only thing I can make you.”

Jenna didn’t expect her heart to be racing so early in the morning. Since your talk, the two of you have been more at ease around the other; falling back into that natural banter, every once in a while. But she can’t lie… the friends' agreement has been difficult to follow through with, especially since you’ve started with gestures such as this. 

The younger actress finds she’s started to… allow herself to enjoy these domestic moments with you, knowing that now, feelings are very much reciprocated — just, without a label yet. 

Placing the steaming mug down on the kitchen island, she chose not to comment on how her coffee was made exactly how she liked it. “I appreciate the gesture, Y/N. I hope you didn’t wake up early just to make me breakfast.”

You turned off the stove, took the pan off the burner, and rolled your eyes. “Get off your high horse, I was already up.” Turning around with the pan still in your hand. 

“You were already up or you didn’t go to sleep?” She countered, expression flat.

You smiled sheepishly, “Jet lag is kicking my ass.”

Jenna snorted and watched as you plated the perfectly-browned toast on a dish and spread some avocados on top; garnishing it with the utmost (adorable) concentration on your face before sliding the plate across the island with a small but proud grin. 

“Consider it compliments of the chef,” you send her a playful wink, glancing down. Jenna follows your line of sight, reading the printed words on the apron. 

Kiss the Chef.

She tried to fight the smile creeping on her face but it proved futile when she felt the familiar warmth enveloping her pale morning cheeks. 

“You’re not as smooth as you think you are…” Was the best response the younger actress could trust herself to utter. “When did you even buy that?”

You laughed, picking up your own cup of coffee. “I don’t know what you’re talking about…”

Jenna ignored you, electing to take a bite of the toast. She almost felt bad for eating something that you put so much effort towards. But when she takes a bite, she finds herself letting out a muffled moan, making you flush red at the sound. “Holy shit, what did you put in this?”

Plastering a smile, you teased, “it’s a secret.”

“You’re annoying…” Jenna covered her mouth, as she ate. 

“Finish eating or you’ll be late.” You reminded, taking off the apron. The time zone change still messed with your internal body clock, meaning at times, you’d still be up when Jenna awoke for a day of work.

You noted the times she got up and at which of those mornings she managed to eat. After the third day of her waking up late, you decided that the next day you’d be kind and make her a healthy breakfast, knowing it’s often difficult to find time to eat during a busy day of filming. 

“Wait…” Jenna called out before you could leave the kitchen. “What are you doing today?”

You racked your brain; thinking for a moment. “I gotta start packing for Monaco, I leave this Wednesday.”

Jenna remembered you telling her that you’ve been invited to the F1 Grand Prix. She doesn’t really understand the race, but she found your childlike glee over a bunch of cars… endearing. It’s slightly childish that she feels a bit upset by you leaving so suddenly, but these last few weeks have felt blissful ever since your confession. She finds herself wanting to stay in this bubble the two of you have created for as long as she can. “Oh, right…”

“Why, what’s up?”

“Nothing… just wondering ‘cause my family’s actually flying in this weekend,” Jenna admitted, gauging your reaction, noting the way you stood straighter on your feet.

“They are?” 

Jenna hummed. “Yeah, they’re here for a week. They were gonna stay at a hotel but if you’re going to Monaco then…”

You blinked, unsure if you should ask why she didn’t tell you her family was flying in sooner. “Oh yeah, no problem. Listen, it’s your apartment.” 

Jenna rolled her eyes, correcting you, “It’s our apartment. You’re living here too.”

Chuckling, you averted your eyes. “Well, in that case. Mi casa es su casa.”

“Your Spanish needs a bit of work...” But Jenna can’t fight her smile.

“Rude,” laughing, you added, “it’s probably best to skip town though— your family’s probably still mad at me.”

Jenna immediately rounds the counter to stand in front of you, shaking her head in denial. “They’re not mad, Y/N. I already told you.”

You shoot her a grimaced smile, “I know, I’m just joking, but I’m still scared of your sisters… Also, your mom may or may not have texted me about that paparazzi pic of you smoking cigarettes.”

Her brows raised, as her jaw dropped, “she did?”

You hummed in response.

“Fuck…” She grumbled, causing you to laugh. “What did she say?”

“Nothing you haven’t already heard from her Instagram stories…” You smirked, enjoying her annoyed scowl. 

“Shut up.”

“Hey, it’ll be alright.” You placed a hand on her shoulder, lightly rubbing it. Ignoring the way she straightened her posture at your touch. “A scolding is probably the most you’ll get out of her.”

“I’m 20 years old, I can do whatever I want.” Dropping your hand, you laughed again.

“You may think you’re grown but she’s always going to be your mom. She’s just looking out for you. Not to mention, she’s a nurse, what'd you expect?” You jest but she rolled her eyes, staring up at you with a slight pout in her frown causing your heart to stop dead in its tracks; desperately trying to stare at her lips for too long. 

Maybe it was the confession, or the ‘clearing the air’ that you two have done. But every touch and look from Jenna feels weighted — in a pleasant way, this time.

She sighed heavily, leaning her hip on the kitchen island. “I know… it’s just embarrassing.”

“At least you know she cares.” You chuckled, patting her shoulder reassuringly before walking off to the living room. 

She ignored the possible meaning behind your words. Although she’d love to dive into the story of your mom and hear it from your account, maybe having that conversation at five o’clock in the morning isn’t the best idea.

“Come on, finish up and go shower. You’re gonna be late.” You called out behind you before plopping on the couch.

“You better wash those dishes…”

“Ugh, later.” You groaned. “I need a nap.”

—

Jenna (2:35 PM): hope you’re having a great time in Monaco 🖤

“Get off your phone…” Tom said before snatching the device right from your hand. 

“Dude…”

“You’re in Monaco with the best cars and drivers in the entire world and you’re glued to your phone – what’re you looking at anyway.” the Brit commented, reading the text before you could stop him. “Aw… how cute, she sent a heart.”

“Shut up. You literally made us late ‘cause you spent all night talking to Z.” Attempting to grab your phone back was futile when he held it out of reach, tossing it to Link who was enjoying this interaction judging by the large grin smacked on his face. 

“She’s my girlfriend.” Tom defended but it fell on deaf ears as soon as you saw Link begin to scroll through your past messages with Jenna.

“Link… give it back, I need to respond!” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll text her back.” Link winked before typing a response. You immediately leapt out of your seat, plucking your phone out of his grasp but it was too late, he’d already sent the message.

“Thinking about you? Really?” You deadpanned despite the warmth coursing fervently through your cheeks. “You’re such an ass…”

“You’re just mad that I finally said what you were really thinking.” He called out as you walked away, fingers slightly trembling as you hit the call button. You wait a few (agonizingly long) seconds, listening to the line ring.

“Hey…” 

“Oh, hey,” there was some shuffling on the other line, “I was just about to text you back.” 

“About that… sorry about that text, Link was being an asshole and took my phone.” You muttered sheepishly; trembling fingers picking at your trousers to counter the nerves that suddenly overcame you.

“Oh? So you weren’t thinking about me?” Her tone is light and teasing. You paint a mental image of her bright, wide smile that usually accompanied her playful taunts; it sent a flurry of butterflies swarming around in your belly.

You pass it off as a stomach ache from your breakfast this morning.

“Come on…” You trail off, not wanting to admit it.

“Wow, I see how it is…”

“Jenna…” You sighed, dropping your fiddling fingers. “Of course, I was thinking about you.”

The line is silent as Jenna doesn’t respond and suddenly you feel embarrassed at your school-girl-like confession. Though it’s technically only been two days since you left London for Monaco, you’d be lying straight through your teeth if you were to deny the fact that you’ve been thinking about the younger actress since the moment you stepped out of the shared apartment.

“I’ve been thinking about you too.” Jenna replied in a small voice. Her admittance causes your heart to stop momentarily but what you couldn’t stop, however, was the satisfied smile creeping on your lips.

Was it pathetic that all Jenna had to do was say a simple, cliché sentence to you and you were practically a puddle on the floor? Maybe, but you couldn’t care less about that right now.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…” 

“Glad we’re on the same page then…” You uttered, glancing around, hoping no one could see your Cheshire grin. Immediately catching Tom and Link at the other end of the balcony making kissing faces at you. You stick up the not-so-nice finger at them before turning your back on the two men, ignoring their blatant and obnoxious laughter, “I hope I didn’t interrupt anything when I called.”

Jenna was supposed to be on set working today, you’d hate to interrupt a busy day’s work…. That’s a lie, this phone call was totally worth it.

“Oh no, you didn’t. I’m actually at the apartment.”

“I thought you’d still be on set?”

“Um, about that…” She trails off in a sheepish tone.

“Jen? What’s wrong?” You asked, panic evident.

“I might’ve—uh—injured myself at work today.” She admitted.

“What?! Are you okay? How? Do you need me to come ba—“

“Y/N… breathe.” She interjects your nervous questioning but it merely goes over your head. Your nerves sky-rocketing the longer she doesn’t answer your questions.

“Are you okay?” You repeated what you really needed to know first.

“I’m fine, I promise,” she chuckled, “just a sprained ankle. I twisted it during rehearsal. It’s not a big deal but they sent me home early to rest.”

“Are you icing it? Keeping it elevated? You know what, send me a picture I wanna see if the swelling is bad.” 

Jenna’s laughter doubles. “I’m okay. I promise. Yes, I'm icing it and yes I’m keeping it elevated. You don't have to play doctor. I’ll even send you a picture, just relax.”

“I’m just worried.”

“I know you are.” She said, almost like she was endeared. “But like I said, it’s just a sprained ankle. They gave me crutches, so I’m good.”

“Crutches?! Do I need to come back home?”

Jenna ignored how her heart swooped at the word: home.

“No,” she laughed, “enjoy your time with the boys and your cars. You looked good on that racetrack, you sure being an actress is your calling?”

You rolled your eyes at her choice of timing for a joke, “You know I’ll leave them in a heartbeat. Just say the word and I’ll be on the first flight back.”

On the other end of the line, Jenna is torn between swooning and mentally cursing you for being so sweet. She bit her lip to subdue the smile creeping in, “that’s very sweet, Y/N, but I promise. I’ll be okay, my family’s flying in on Sunday anyway. I’ll be fine until then.”

You sighed unsurely, “Are you sure?” That’s still a few days where she’d have to be alone until someone could help her around the house.

“Yes! Now go, enjoy Monaco. Maybe I’ll even turn on the racing channel or whatever and get a glimpse of you.”

“You did not just say the racing channel…”

“Go!” She laughed and this time, you relent at her assured tone. 

“Fine… but if anything else happens, call me, please?”

“You’ll be the first one to know, I promise.”

“Okay…” You take a deep breath hoping to calm your nerves. If Jenna says she’s okay, then you have no reason to go against her wishes. “I’ll text you?”

“Mhmm. Bye, be safe.”

“Bye…” You hang up, dropping the phone from your ear, anxiously tapping it against your other hand as you contemplate your options.

“That was a long call,” Link swung his arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side. “You already miss your girl? It’s only been a day.”

“Quit it. She’s not my girl.” You back-hand him squarely on the stomach causing him to heave out a rough, pained puff. The satisfaction of seeing your best friend in pain was a dull noise in the background of your restless thoughts. “She injured herself on set, I was just making sure she’s okay.”

You chewed on your lip nervously, ignoring Link’s probing eyes as he scanned your faraway look.

“Is it serious?”

“No, just a sprained ankle.”

Link continued to observe you; seeing straight through you. An amused smile painted itself squarely on his lips. “... you’re gonna leave, aren’t you?” 

—

“What the— I told you to stay. What are you doing here?”

“And I told you to send me a picture of your sprain.”

Jenna frowned, closely watching as you slipped the duffle bag off your shoulders; landing on the hardwood with a loud thud. 

“Get back on the couch. You shouldn’t be walking.” You ordered, briefly scanning her head-to-toe and letting out a concealed sigh of relief that her ankle didn’t seem too bad. 

“I’m injured, not crippled.” She replied unamused. You meet her eyes, mimicking her expression until the brunette realized you’re not backing down. “Fine…”

“Let me help you.” You stepped forward, taking a closer look at her injury. Her left ankle was covered in a compression wrap as she hobbled around with a single crutch. 

“I’m fine.”

“Jenna, let me help.” You said in a serious tone, not backing down.

She rolled her eyes, slowly turning around with her crutch to walk back to the living room, hoping you missed her rosy cheeks. She ignored the intense thudding in her chest as you walked together. The thought of you leaving a trip that obviously meant a lot to you, sent the younger actress’ heart into a frenzy. 

“What are you doing here?” The younger actress asked again once she was comfortably seated on the sofa.

You took a seat beside her, “I was worried.”

“I told you I was fine, you’re acting like I’m on my deathbed.”

Rolling your eyes, you grabbed the pillow behind you and placed it between you and Jenna. Scooting back to gesture for her to rest the injured ankle on the pillow. “I wouldn’t have enjoyed the race knowing that you’re back in London with an injury… so, I left.”

Jenna stayed silent, not trusting herself to say what she was really feeling. So she opted to stare as you examined her wrapped ankle, seemingly satisfied that her injury wasn’t as bad as you had thought.

“I’m just trying to be a good friend… and roommate.” You joked, grabbing the discarded remote off the coffee table. Ignoring the way your skin burned the longer she stared at you unspeaking.

Jenna snorted at your words, grabbing the pillow behind her and playfully lunging it at you. You caught the feeble attempt. “Right, roommate.”

You laughed at the tone that accompanied her words, “how did you hurt yourself anyway?”

If Jenna’s cheeks turned any rosier, she’d be the human embodiment of a tomato. It was embarrassing, really and she blames Aliyah for sending that video. 

She might’ve been too distracted watching a clip of you and Tom walking along the racetrack, waving to the crowd. As luck would have it, she was supposed to be rehearsing for a scene, walking over to her next marking. However, one misstep over a wire sent her ankle twisting in an abnormal way. “I wasn’t paying attention to the marking on the floor and I tripped over a loose wire.”

Jenna was definitely not going to tell you the truth. You’d never let her hear the end of it.

You sent her a questioning look, “I don’t know whether to laugh or feel bad.”

“Is it too late for you to go back to Monaco?” She joked, straight-faced.

“I’m kidding, of course, I feel bad.“ You settled back into a comfortable position.

“How did you get back so fast?” She inquired.

“It’s only a two-hour flight.”

Glancing at the clock on the wall, Jenna noted that you were on the phone merely two and a half hours ago. “You got through security that fast?”

You blush red.

As soon as the jet landed on the tarmac and the seatbelt lights turned off, you were posted by the doors; impatiently tapping your foot on the floor.

“Miss L/N, your driver is waiting just outside.” The flight attendant alerted you. You nodded, sending a tight-lipped smile.

“Thank you.”

When the doors opened and the stairs hit the pavement, you were already rushing down the steps, making eye contact with the driver.

“Miss, I can take your bags.”

“That’s alright.” You tossed them in the back seat before shutting the doors. “How fast can you get back to the apartment?”

“GPS says 45 minutes but there is heavy traffic on the highway.” 

“I’ll drive.” You held your hand out. He looked unsure before seeing that you were not playing around, swiftly handing the keys over.

“Yes, ma’am.”

You made sure to tip the man handsomely after noticing his white-knuckle grip on the grab handles as you maneuvered through said traffic.

“Uh yeah and I got lucky, no traffic. Anyways….wanna watch Breaking Bad? Unless you finished it already, in that case, we can watch something else.” You changed the subject, Jenna didn’t need to know how you drove that SUV like it was a race car and broke multiple speeding laws just to get here.

“No, Breaking Bad is good. I haven’t watched it since we were at my parents' house.”

You turn, evidently surprised that she kept your unspoken promise. Trying to hide your growing smile, you face the TV again before the staring becomes too obvious.

“Me too.”

—

“Are you sure you’re fine to go to work today? It’s only been like, a day.”

It’s Sunday morning, too early for anyone to be awake. With the sky still covered in a blanket of darkness, you tiredly lean against the wall, trying your best to string coherent words together as you reason with Jenna, who lightly limped around the large room as she gets ready for work.

“Technically, it’s been two.” She glanced at you momentarily. “I don’t want to delay production.” 

“Jenna, you're injured. They can get a stand-in or just not film your scenes today.” You argued. Having had your fair share of on-set injuries, you knew that a major film could afford to delay filming for the sake of an injury. This was merely Jenna’s workaholic tendencies making her feel that she couldn’t stop working. “They can and should accommodate for you, Jenna.”

At your gruffed tone, Jenna dropped what she was looking for, walking over to stand in front of you. “Hey…”

You glanced at your hands, ignoring her soft tone. “Look at me, please?”

Jenna grabbed your hand, drawing your attention to her. “I’ll be okay. If my ankle starts to bother me, I’ll let the director know.”

“You promise?” You asked, glancing down when she started rubbing soft lines against your skin.

“I promise.” She squeezed for good measure.

You studied her soft gaze, attentive to the assured glimmer behind them. Letting out a sigh, you pushed your worries aside. “Okay.”

She smiled at your obvious concern, dropping your hand to walk back to the living room. 

You try not to draw attention to the way your fingers twitched at the loss of contact. “By the way, my family will be here at noon. Are you good to be alone with them while I’m at work?”

“Yeah… I think I’ll be fine.” To distract yourself, you walked off to the kitchen, grabbing a mug for your morning coffee; allowing a gentle silence to envelop the room as Jenna hobbled around and gathered her things.

“Crap!” Jenna suddenly said, emerging out of her room.

“What?” You turned, slightly startled. “What’s wrong?”

“I forgot to set up the guest bedroom for them.”

“Oh.” Your shoulders dropped. “I already did it, don’t worry.”

Her brows raised, “you called the housekeeper already?”

“No. I did it myself. We don’t need him.”

Jenna seemed surprised if the raised brows were anything to go by. It was amusing truly, but you elected to stay silent, turning back to make your coffee.

“Thank you…” She finally said.

“Don’t mention it.” You shrugged, “If you want, I can pick up your family at the airport too. Heathrow is a bitch to navigate.”

Jenna didn’t respond, just staring at your back from her spot in the living room. You were unaware of her internal turmoil.

“Jen?” You turned around when you realized she didn’t reply; just staring at you with an unwavering intensity. “Jenna?”

“What?” She blinked a couple of times. “What did you say?”

“I said I can pick up your family from the airport.” You sipped on the steaming mug, a single brow flicking upright in question.

“Oh–uh, no. T-That’s alright, I’m sending a car over to pick them up.” She stuttered pathetically; grateful that the dim lights from the lamp in the corner of the room did well to hide the crimson rising over her neck. “You shouldn’t be seen at Heathrow. You might get spotted.”

“I can wear a disguise.” You thought out loud.

Jenna snorted, pushing away her inner strife. “Oh yeah? Like what, a baseball hat and sunglasses?”

“Hey, it works!” You defended. “Not everyone can just blend in with their height.”

“Was that a short joke?” Jenna arched a sharp brow.

“Nope.” You stood wide-eyed. “Oh hey, I just remembered I left something in my room. Okay. Bye. Have a good day at work.”

Jenna laughed as you scurried off to your bedroom, glad that she hasn’t lost her edge with you.

—

“I can’t believe you cancelled on the driver.” 

The younger actress said as soon as you swung the front door open. Faintly, she can hear the familiar sounds of laughter farther into the apartment. “You’re so stubborn.”

“You act like that’s a new fact.” You snicker, a pleased smile plastered on your lips. “I’d like an apology by the way. The disguise worked perfectly — just like I said it would.”

“You’re too much sometimes.” She shook her head, stepping into the hall. 

“In the best way, though. Right?” You asked, letting her in.

“If it helps you sleep better.” Jenna shrugged, chucking her work bag on the side table.

“Now look who’s being stubborn.” You replied with a knowing smile.  “Go say hi and then wash up. Natalie and I are making dinner.”

She raised her brows in surprise as you walked away. Her footsteps faltering when she walks into the living room. Gaze instantly landing on her sisters and Dad lounging on the couch, in the corner of her eyes she finds her mom who was chopping up vegetables on the kitchen island. 

“Hey, guys…” She said slowly, still taking the scene in front of her.

“Jen!” Mia sprung up from her seat and tugged her sister into a tight hug. 

One by one, Aliyah, her dad and her mom sauntered over to greet and fret over her. Sentiments of I miss you, echoing in the vast apartment.

“It’s good to see you, honey.” Her mom said with a smile. “I hope you’ve been taking care of that ankle.”

Jenna rolled her eyes at her Mom’s fretting but nodded reassuringly. “I’m okay, Mom. Y/N’s been helping me.”

“So I’ve heard.” She winked, walking away.

“Uh– you guys made yourselves comfortable…” Jenna cleared her throat as she watched how her mom swiftly walked back to the kitchen where you were leaning against the island, observing her family with a small smile.

“Y/N said to make yourselves at home. Blame her.” Aliyah said, tugging her onto the couch. “How’s filming been? How’s working with Winona Ryder, tell me everything!”

“Great uh–what’s for dinner?” Was the first question the actress asked, too distracted by watching your concentrated expression. The slight scrunch in your forehead as you closely listened to her mom’s instructions was more interesting than what her sister was asking her.

“Mom’s teaching her how to make frijoles.” Mia smirked at her sister’s doe-eyed look. 

“Oh…” Jenna replied with a vacant tone. “Sounds good.”

“Do you have any pictures in your wardrobe—“

“Why frijoles?” She added, interrupting Aliyah when she tried to spark another series of questions.

“Y/N heard it was one of your favourites, said she wanted to learn how to make it for you.” Mia replied, her tone smug.

“She did?” Jenna’s brow raised, still unable to look away from you. 

“I think we lost her,” Aliyah sighed to Mia, giving up on having her questions answered.

Jenna rolled her eyes when her sisters burst into laughter, blinking back to reality. “Shut up. What were you saying?” 

She forced herself to look away and give her undivided attention to her sisters. Pretending not to notice as you kept glancing at her from the kitchen.

—

“Wow this looks amazing, are you sure you helped, Y/N?” Aliyah teased from the dining table.

“Ha-ha, you’re hilarious.” You mocked, walking over with a bowl of guacamole, placing it at the centre of the table. “Wait ‘till you try my guac.”

“I always make the that.” Jenna trailed off, sneaking a peek at the bowl.

“I know.” You took your seat beside her. “Your mom showed me how you like to make it. I hope it’s close.”

“I think I’ll be the judge of that…” She reached for a chip and dipped a large chunk into the green goodness. You watched intently for a reaction but she gave you none; continuing to chew on. 

“It’s good.” She finally says.

“That’s it?”

“What? I said it’s good.” Jenna laughed at your sullen expression; almost feeling bad. Once your bottom lip popped out in disappointment, she dropped her act, reaching for your arm and squeezing it. “I’m kidding. It’s great, it tastes exactly how I make it back home… but you know, you can’t beat the original.”

You rolled your eyes, shaking your head. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.” You repeated her words.

Before Jenna can reply with a quip, her mom walked over with the last bowl of food, disrupting your conversation. But it was all forgotten when the younger actress’ nose welcomed the familiar scent of all of her favourite dishes. She enthusiastically eyed the various dishes scattered on the table, not having had her family’s cooking in what felt like forever. Living with you wasn’t bad – actually, it’s been more than great, but you were serious when you said you lacked skills in the kitchen. That resulted in dinners mostly being take-out these days.

“Have you tried frijoles before?” Jenna asked you. 

“Uh–no.” You blushed. “I actually didn’t even know they were beans until today.”

“You’ll love it.” She grinned, reaching over to plate you a generous helping. You refused to tell her that you didn’t necessarily love beans because her excited expression overpowered any dislike you had for the legume.

—

“You’re still up?” You called out after a brief glance, the pitter-patter of light footsteps coming down the hall, alerting you of her presence.

“Mhm, I heard the clanking of dishes from my room.” She replied, leaning against the counter, watching as you dried off the dishes one by one. “What’re you doing?”

“Sorry. I’ll keep it down.” You grimaced apologetically. “I couldn’t sleep so I figured I’d unload the dishes.”

“It’s okay, I’m actually not too tired too.” She stepped forward, only an arm’s length away from you. “Can I help?”

Wordlessly, you passed her a dry cloth and a bowl from the dishwasher. For a while, silence enveloped the room. You were grateful that you and the brunette can exist in silence, sometimes. Her mere presence provided a certain level of comfort that you’re still trying to get used to.

“So…” She spoke up after a few minutes, gaining your attention. “You’re really pulling out all the stops, huh.”

You raise an amused brow at the baiting look in her eyes. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Jenna would’ve believed that statement if it weren’t for the small smile at the corner of your lips telling her otherwise.

“Right… so, you just pick up all your friends’ parents from the airport and do chores, willingly.”

“I’m turning over a new leaf.” You shrugged, continuing to wipe away remnants of water from the plate. Hoping the mundane action hid your trembling fingers well.

“Oh, are you?”

“Yup.”

“So this isn’t you trying to win me over?”

“Me try to win you over? Whaaat?” You puffed out an airy scoff, “that’s ridiculous. I would never. I wholeheartedly respect your decision.” 

But the crinkle in your eyes told her that you were enjoying this way too much.

“Sure…” Jenna rolled her eyes, “even if you are just doing this out of the kindness of your own heart—“

“Which, I am.”

Jenna sends a playful glower at your interruption. 

“Just wanted to put that on record.” You added.

“Thank you.” Jenna declared, her tone soft yet serious. “You’ve been incredible these last few days.”

“Oh.” You blink, a pleased smile plastered on your face. “You’re welcome, Jen. It’s no big deal.”

“It’s a big deal to me.” The bowl and cloth in her hands were long forgotten on the counter as she closed the distance between you. “No one’s ever done any of… this, for me—thank you.”

The air feels charged as she suddenly looks at you with that doe-eyed stare. Feeling like your heart rate instantly doubles, the longer she stares at you like that.

“What? Be nice?” You said evenly, “You need to set your standards higher.”

She huffed at your antics. “I’m being serious.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll stop.” you laughed shakily, trying to gather some semblance of control over your racing pulse. “Like I said, it’s not a big deal, Jen… cause I’d do anything for you.”

She blinked, voice caught in her throat she took in the serious glint in your eyes; voice dripping with conviction 

“And this isn’t me trying to win you over. You’ll know when I do.”

The younger actress’ body feels like it’s on fire the longer she listens to your words. 

“Uh, sorry, too much?” You said apologetically when she remained unspeaking. 

But Jenna was already shaking her head, a faraway look in her eyes that you couldn’t quite decipher. 

“No…” She murmured, her sight drifting down to your lips before they flicker back up to your eyes. “Not at all.”

“Okay…” Your gaze bore intently into hers, waiting to see if she’ll make the first move. “Good.”

For a brief moment, her eyes flicker back down for a second time but then she’s blinking out of her self-induced stupor, “um–I should go to sleep. I need to be up early.” Jenna hoped her ogling on your soft lips wasn’t too obvious. 

She steps back and almost instantaneously, the tension in the room dissipates with each movement she takes. 

You nod, smiling softly despite the slight tinge of disappointment you felt; knowing that you shouldn’t rush into this with her. “Good idea, you should rest your ankle… good night, Jenna.”

Just before you turned back to grab the discarded dry cloth, Jenna takes a hesitant step—before she can lose her nerve and leaned up to plant her lips on the pad of your cheek.

Your brain felt like it short-circuited; not having felt her lips in forever as your skin burned against the delicate contact.

“Good night, Y/N.” She whispered, her soft lips grazing your cheek in a way that drove you crazy.

Before your brain could rewire itself well enough to form a response, Jenna was already turning around to retreat back to her room.

Biting your lip to contain the growing smile, you couldn’t look away from her figure until she disappeared behind the door.

Shit…

You’re in deeper than you thought.

——

if there was any mistakes… look away (i tried my best 🧍‍♀️)

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[cevansbrat0007]

On the Clock

Summary: Ari stops by for a snack while he's out chasing a lead.

Warnings: Smut, Ari Being A Menace, Oral Sex (fem rec), Finger Fucking, Ass Slapping, Ass Grabbing, Handcuffs (mentioned), Overstimulation (implied), Cursing, Pet Names, Minors DNI

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are sincerely appreciated.

___

“Oh God, I–Beast!”

Your fist slams down on the desk as your legs threaten to give out from under you. It was all too much. Between each sinful flick of his tongue, and the delicate precision of his thick fingers roughly pumping in and out of your dripping pussy… 

You weren’t sure if you were actually going to survive. 

“Gimme one more, Bird. Just one.” Ari’s free hand comes down hard on your ass, the sharp crack echoing through your tiny stockroom and spilling out into the shop. “You can do it.” 

A muffled sob escapes as you cling to the cool, flat surface for dear life while that same hand delivers another blow – this time giving your cheek a hard squeeze after it lands. His punishing grip all but ensuring that you’ll be heading home with fresh bruises, although he has yet to hear you complain. 

Especially after he just got done telling you that all your sweet curves belonged to him anyway. A fact that you were no longer as interested in disputing as you once used to be. Maybe it was because you enjoyed wearing his marks almost as much as he enjoyed giving them to you.  

The filthy wet squelch of his fingers as they ruthlessly fuck your cunt, along with with the sounds of your desperate cries, has you feeling grateful that there’s no one around to witness just how pitiful you must look. 

Of course you have Ari to thank for that, whose quick thinking brought you to this very moment. 

Which involves him kneeling between your parted thighs, eating your pussy from the back. Devouring you as if his life depends on it. And for all you knew, it did.

Because when Ari had sent you a message at 11:57am asking if you were free for a quick snack, you’d had no idea that he’d been referring to this. But then again, you also hadn’t had time to respond, what with you trying to box up orders for several waiting customers. 

Which meant that you’d been just as surprised as anyone when he strolled through the doors of Baubles & Quills less than ten minutes later, with his badge displayed on his hip and a scowl etched across his ruggedly handsome face.

Confused by his sudden presence, you’d offered him a brief smile before suggesting that he might be more comfortable waiting for you in the back. Of course your bounty hunter had declined, muttering something about “being on the clock”. And then he’d stood off in the corner glowering at the small group of patrons that were steadily occupying your time. 

Precious time that was apparently reserved for him.

Shaking your head, you’d simply returned your attention to running your business. If Ari had questions that needed answering before you were slated to see him tonight, then he was going to have to wait his turn. Afterall, you had bills to pay for both this place as well as your own home. And providing quality customer service was one way to ensure that you would be able to do all of that on time and in full.

However, that’s not to say that you weren’t affected by his presence. It was almost impossible to ignore the weight of his heavy gaze. Especially since your body felt the need to respond accordingly against your own best interests.

From your quickening pulse and pebbled nipples, to your slightly shaking hands and damp panties, your bounty hunter was not the type to be so easily relegated to the background. Nor was he the kind of man who would allow himself to be forgotten either.

Which was why you then witnessed Ari escort your last patron, the lovely Ms. Greta Thurman who was also pushing 80, out to her car with all the patience of a saint. Only for him to return seconds later, this time locking the door behind him and flipping your sign around to signal that the shop was closed – without your fucking permission.

You’d opened your mouth, fully prepared to protest such gross mistreatment. Only to swiftly think better of it the moment you’d gotten a good look at his face. And then he’d motioned for you to join him back in the stockroom, which had been roughly twenty minutes ago. And now…

Now, you were growing increasingly convinced you were going to die. And yet, the Beast at your back had the nerve to keep demanding that you give him one more. Always just one more. 

“Poor little Bird.” Ari hums, sounding slightly out of breath. But he doesn’t let that stop him, especially when he feels you clench around his fingers when they strum over that special spot inside you. “You might be done, but your pussy wants more.” His pointed tongue goes back to rhythmically lashing at your sensitive clit. 

Again and again. It was enough to drive a woman crazy.

“It’s so good, Beast! S’good!” You mewl, your short, blunt nails scraping against the desk. “S’goo–fuckfuckfuck!” Your ability to form coherent sentences has long since abandoned you, leaving you a sweaty, blubbering mess as your body works overtime to process the intensity of the pleasure coursing through your veins.

“My greedy girl.” His harsh growl has your knees about ready to buckle. “Greediest pussy I’ve ever had.” Sensing you’re about to collapse, he removes his fingers from your wet heat, making you whine. And then he goes back to squeezing and kneading your ass, loving the way you rise up on your toes as he holds you open for his assault.

“Ari!” You continue to whine, wishing you still had his fingers buried deep in your cunt, even as your impending orgasm looms. He growls again in response, the heady vibrations pulsing through your entire overly stimulated body.

You try to run – attempting to climb over the desk in search of refuge – only for your bounty hunter to drag you back. 

“Try that shit again and I’ll cuff you.” Is the only gruff warning you receive before he goes back to lapping at your honeyed folds. The vulgar sounds he makes as he sucks and slurps at your heated flesh, demonstrating just how committed he is to his task.

And he positively hated being interrupted. Your vision blurs when he reaches around to stroke talented fingers along your swollen nub, taking special care not to send you over the edge until he felt you were ready.

Asshole.

Your hips continue to writhe and buck beneath his assault, but you don’t try to run again. And this time when your orgasm washes over you, it feels so good it hurts. Your mouth falls open on a silent scream as wave after wave of bliss sends your nerve endings buzzing. 

It was hands down some of the most exquisite pleasure you had ever experienced. 

Eventually Ari relaxes his hold, albeit rather reluctantly, before giving you a minute or two to get your bearings. “Thank you, baby.” He murmurs, the husky timbre of his voice sending another small jolt of white-hot electricity pulsing through you as he goes to stand up. “That should be enough to get me through.” 

“Huh?” Comes your weak reply. Frankly, he’s lucky to even get that. Right now you could barely function, let alone string together a damn sentence. But then it registers that he’s leaving. 

Even though he hadn’t –

“I really hate to eat and run, but I’m afraid I’m on the clock.” He winks at you, taking a moment to twirl your ruined panties around his index finger. “Just needed a taste of something sweet first.” He then tucks the garment into the back pocket of his jeans. 

At this rate, your entire underwear drawer was going to be empty before the month’s end. Which meant that you were going to have to put your foot down and demand he return them. At least a few pairs anyway. The brute wouldn’t be happy until you were walking around this town going commando. 

“Oh.” You mumble, feeling a pang of disappointment as you push your damp curls off of your forehead. “Um, okay.” But as quickly as it comes, it’s replaced by a fresh surge of heat in your belly when you finally notice the wetness still darkening his beard. Something he didn’t seem too worried about fixing.

“Aw, don’t look so disappointed, Bird.” His big hands go to frame your face, pulling you close to capture your lips in a heartfelt kiss that has you practically melting. And you can’t help the sliver of female satisfaction that slowly unfurls inside of you when you catch a hint of your warm, earthy scent on his skin. 

Because whether you realized it or not, you’d just marked your territory in a way no other woman could possibly compete with. This Beast was all yours for the time being. 

“There we go.” Grinning when you finally relax, your gentle giant pecks your lips one last time before stepping away from you. He winces slightly, adjusting his straining erection through his jeans, inwardly cursing the fact he had an appointment across town that he was probably already late for. “I’ll be at your place no later than 8:00pm with takeout from Mi Patron. Text me what you want and then be sure to call when you’re locking up, okay?”

“Okay, Ari.” You breathe, your teeth going to nibble at your bottom lip. “It’s a date.” On impulse, you raise up on your toes and wrap your arms around his neck, dragging him down for one last kiss – which he eagerly accepts without an ounce of fight. 

“Sorry.” Is all you say when you finally allow yourselves to come up for air. In truth, you weren’t feeling even remotely apologetic. But you did have an image to maintain so… “Must’ve lost my balance.”

“Right.” Ari whistles low, shaking his head as he pins you with a knowing look. “I’ll see you later. Behave while I’m gone, sweet girl.” With that, he turns on his heel and heads in the direction of your front door. Leaving you alone to make peace with the fact that you were falling for this man.

“I’m doomed.” You mutter, staring down at your bare toes while you debate your next move. On one hand, you supposed you could always skip town. But given his profession, you reasoned he’d be able to track you down with relative ease. 

Well, there went that option. With a sigh you bend down to pick up your capris so you can go about making yourself look presentable again, sans panties. The way you saw it, the only choice you had left was to go down swinging. Which made sense. And if that was the case, then…

“I’m taking you down with me, Levinson.”

END

___

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[enkas-illusion]

The Worst Kept Secret

Fandom / Pairing: Jujutsu Kaisen / Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Rating: NSFW/Explicit - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Genre/Theme: Co-workers to lovers; non-sorcery au

Content warning: fluff but not too much, smut, oral (f & m receiving), piv sex, dom!Toji, sub!reader, overstimulation, unprotected sex, explicit sexual content, language, Toji has a filthy mouth.

Summary: Your colleague Toji only has eyes for you, despite having a reputation of sorts. Porn with a plot… or more like a build up.

Author's Note: Co-worker Toji is instantly attractive cause a) he’s not a bum and b) he’s Toji-fucking-Fushiguro – that’s all in my defence, your honour! This shit is nasty… no, I won’t explain myself (I'm pretty sure i was possessed while writing this). 

Anyway, I hope you enjoy this one shot, please write to me and let me know your thoughts. I love reading whenever people have elaborate things to say T.T Thank you for reading! 

-Eren’s Birdie

Song Dedication: Talk by Hozier

“Rat!” you exclaim as you hold your phone up to display the word written boldly on the screen.

“Ummm…. It’s not a rat, it's not a patootie, it’s a ratatouille!” your coworker, Lisa, blurts out excitedly.

You both look at each other, trying your best to control before you burst out laughing. This goes on for about a minute till your bellies hurt and you’re wheezing. You quiet down as you wipe the tears forming in the corner of your eyes. 

“Why don’t I know that one?” your other coworker, Ema, mutters with furrowed eyebrows, confused at what could possibly be so funny about the sentence.

You’re too drunk to realise that sober you would not find it as funny as you do right now. But that’s what happens when you party a little too hard with your coworkers on a work trip and then hang around the hotel bar because nobody wants to go to bed even at 3am.

You look around at the handful of your coworkers, randomly occupying different spots at the bar, all too dazed and into their own conversations to pay attention to the stupid game that the three of you were currently playing – A word game your genius minds had developed, using a random word generator app and use it in a meme-able sentence.

“Oh god… next word. Feminism!” Lisa squeals, snatching your phone from you to generate the word for your turn.

“Fuck… I suddenly can’t think of anything,” you admit and giggle, trying hard to work your brain.

“Seriously…” 

“Wait, Wait… I need a few seconds,” you laugh, trying to save yourself. You look around and your eyes land on your office crush, Toji Fushiguro, sitting at the bar with your boss, Kento Nanami. 

You look back to your group with a determined look in your eyes, ready with your sentence. “I want him to do things to me that feminism wouldn’t agree with,” you giggle like a teenager, “hah! I’m a genius.”

However, your friends have fixated on something else entirely, ignoring your perfect answer, since their eyes follow your line of vision to the bar. “So, what’s the scene?” Ema looks back at you.

“It's your turn, next word–”

“Nah, we’re bored… this is far more interesting,” her eyebrows wiggle, as she scoots closer to you on the sofa. By the looks of it, Lisa has also forgotten about the game in a second. You realise you’ve dug this hole for yourself, yet you don’t mind sharing a drunk confession with your friends.

“Let’s head out for a smoke,” you get up from the sofa. Lisa is quick to grab her purse as both your friends spring up, hurrying to happily follow you out onto the secluded porch outside, ready for gossip.

As you light up your cigarette, Ema looks at you expectantly. Looking at her face makes you snort and you cough out the smoke before speaking, “Have some patience! Besides, there's nothing too juicy about this gossip.”

“Pleaseeee, literally everyone saw the way Toji was glaring at the man who asked you for a dance tonight… not gonna lie, he looked kinda hot when he got mad,” Lisa catches your lie as she fawns over Toji, something that has become a regular thing among the female coworkers at the company. 

“I know right? And I said no to the guy! What was he so pissed about anyway?” you protest.

“It's all because you agreed when the dude was like ‘at least let me buy you a drink sweetie’!” Ema imitates the stranger from the bar from hours ago.

“Hey! Who says no to free drinks?” you defend yourself.

“Okay, fair,” Lisa nods her head before realising, “aye, focus on the matter at hand! Why did you say no to the guy? He was cute.”

“Was he really though?” you retort.

“Yeah, like you’d notice anyone else when Toji's around… Please fuck him, I need some office drama!” Lisa snaps back before taking a long drag from her cigarette. 

“Yea right… I’m serious though,” you ponder between slow drags, “I doubt anything is going to happen between Toji and I.”

“Why not?!” Ema whines and you laugh at how it seems like they’re more desperate about this whole thing than you are.

“Need I remind you I literally just got out of a relationship? This is no time to be having stupid crushes. I need some alone time… besides you know how his reputation is. Sure, he flirts with me and I enjoy it a lot but I don't know,” you explain as if it’s an automated response stored in you.

“So what? Then just fuck him and get it over with. They say the best way to get over someone is to get under someone!” Lisa giggles, “Besidesss, I've heard he’s really good in bed… heard it from a mutual– uhhh, I don't really remember her name.”

“Oh wait, shit I remember that!” Ema squeals, almost dropping the cigarette from her hand in excitement, “But didn’t she also say that he basically ghosted her after? He just fucks around, I guess.”

“Hence the reputation… Men like Toji are the most charming kind. They know exactly what to say to get you to sleep with them but disappear when it comes to commitment,” Lisa ponders, staring into the distance.

“Exactly, everyone says that Toji doesn’t do relationships. And as horny and curious as I might be, I don’t just want us to fuck and leave it at that. It’d be way too awkward to have such a dynamic at the workplace,” you reason and they simply nod. There’s a beat of silence as all three of you smoke quietly.

“Still though… would it be so bad to just give it a shot? Simply see it as a one night stand and get it over with? If he’s that indifferent about it, I doubt it’d be awkward at work,” Lisa presses.

“I know right! I dont get why you’re thinking so much about it. At least the sex would be killer even if nothing else is assured,” Ema advises.

You take another big drag before dropping the bud to the ground and crushing it with your heel, “Hmmm… that’s true, I’ll think about it.”

“Think soon and try to seduce him in the three days we have here!” Lisa squeezes your shoulder encouragingly. 

“Yes! If you don’t want to, please allow me to! He looked so delicious yesterday,” Ema sighs and by the look on her face, you can tell she’s probably recalling memories of a shirtless Toji playing volleyball at the beach from yesterday. 

“Be my guest… but do it tomorrow, you’ve had a lot to drink tonight,” you snort.

“Please, drunk or sober, if there is one hook up I wouldn’t regret, it’d be him… after our boss of course,” Ema confesses.

“Yeah right. Either of us could still have a shot with Kento. Toji only flirts back with you,” Lisa looks at you with narrowed eyes.

You laugh before a sudden chill runs down your spine, and you cuss at the feeling, “Motherfucker– Should’ve gotten a coat. It's getting cold.”

Your coworkers eye each other mischievously before Lisa snickers, “Why don’t you ask loverboy to help you with it instead? That way you’d be warm inside out.”

“Oh yeah, great idea! Let me go back inside to find him–” you cut off when you see a figure walking outside towards your group.

You signal Ema, who has her back turned to the encroaching new presence, to shut up but it's too late as she fake moans, “Exactly… I’m sure he’d love to indulge you, he’d basically been eye-banging you all night, harder Toji, fuck yea–” 

“HEY TOJI! What’s up!” you’re basically shouting at the guy when he’s a few feet away, hoping to cover up and save yourself.

Maybe he senses your embarrassment, or maybe he didn’t hear her (hopefully) but he doesn’t say anything about it. Instead he greets the group and there’s an awfully awkward feeling in the air.

“Ladies,” he speaks coolly as he stands next to you, “Glad I found you here since boss man was looking for you two.” 

“Kento?!” Ema’s ears shoot up at his sentence as she exchanges a grin with Lisa. They rush ahead inside and as you are about to follow them, you feel a hand on your wrist holding you back. You turn to look at him with a confused frown.

“Where do you think you’re going? I was just getting rid of the two of them,” he smirks, making you look at his pillowy lips. 

When he catches you staring, you look down quickly, tugging a strand of your hair behind your ear nervously, “Oh… So, Kento wasn’t really looking for them?”

“Nope.”

“Oh… that’s– they’re gonna be disappointed,” you chuckle lightly as you fidget with your phone’s cover.

“Well, sucks for them, I guess,” he holds two fingers under your chin to make you look up at him, “You look pretty… you usually do, but even more so in that tiny dress.”

Your eyes grow wide at his confession as you feel the heat rush to your cheeks and you mutter a quiet ‘thank you’. You move to the front of the porch as you stare out at the vast night sky, partly to avoid feeling so mushy and partly because you feel the alcohol toying with your nerves. 

Another chill rushes down your spine and you’re pretty sure it makes you shiver visibly. As you mutter a quiet ‘fuck’, you feel him wrap his denim jacket around your shoulders. Your eyes widen at him in surprise.

“What? I’m a gentleman,” he teases, standing closer next to you. You laugh at this, turning to face him as you shake your head.

“Sure… a gentleman with a reputation,” you roll your eyes as you wrap your arms around your torso in an attempt to keep yourself warm. What you don’t realise is that this action further pushes your boobs together, causing Toji’s eyes to wander down briefly before he looks back into your eyes again.

“Aren’t you ever curious to know if I live up to that reputation?” he raises an eyebrow as he leans down closer to your face.

“Hmm, sure… if you were a stranger at a club and not someone who I had to see at work 9 hours a day, 5 days a week,” you roll your eyes at him as you bring up one hand to slowly run a finger down his shoulder to the outline of his bicep.

“Well, we see each other everyday anyway, so why not turn it into something we actively look forward to,” his fingers graze your jawline softly while his eyes shamelessly fixate on the dip of your cleavage, giving him a better view from the way he’s towering over you.

“As tempting as that is… I don’t do one night stands Toji–”

“Who said anything about just one night?” he interrupts and you tilt your head to the side in confusion, “I’m not stupid to approach someone I work with if I was simply looking for a quick fuck.”

“Oh… then please tell me what exactly you’re looking for?” you speak softly but it comes out more arrogantly than you’d like.

“You. I intend to fuck you more than once.” he’s direct yet his calm demeanour never wavers. 

You let out a nervous chuckle, “Look Toji… you’re hot, charming and oddly easy to get along with but I just got out of a relationship, it’s barely been two months–”

“I know… his loss for letting such a sweet thing go. Didn’t he initiate the break up? What a loser,” Toji laughs as his hand cups your face. 

You simply stare at him in bewilderment, you had no idea the news of your breakup had travelled even to the non-gossipers.

“Why me?” you ask, your curiosity getting the best of you.

“For starters, you’re hot. Two, I like it when we hang out outside of work, you put me at ease with your conversations. Three, I haven’t been able to hook up with anyone else for about a month since I found out about your ex… such a pretty girl should be cherished the way she deserves to be,” his fingers slide down to your collarbone, threatening to dip down even lower.

“Hmm… that’s a good enough pitch, so you want us to be fuck buddies? Exclusively?” you play with the collar of his shirt, entertaining the idea.

“Yeah, I’m not one to share,” his other hand comes up to brush his thumb against your bottom lip.

“Nothing serious?” you pout at him with fake disappointment.

“Not until the both of us feel like it,” he dips his thumb inside your mouth while his other hand snaked around your waist. You suck on his thumb as you stare into his eyes and he feels his blood rush straight to his cock.

“I can work with that,” you give him an innocent smile, “But let’s not be too obvious about it, I’d hate for our little arrangement to mess with our work life.”

“Perfect,” he smiles as he cups your jaw, staring at your lips while sliding his tongue over his lips to wet them instinctively.

Just as he’s about to lean down to kiss you, you pull back when you hear distant footsteps approaching. You see your two friends walking back towards you, talking among themselves.

“Hey, we couldn’t find Kento at the bar,” Ema mumbles.

“Really? He must’ve gone back to his room. Maybe ask him about it tomorrow,” Toji speaks innocently and you press your lips together to keep yourself from laughing.

You see Ema eyeing the jacket you’re wearing suspiciously and you suddenly take it off to hand it to Toji.

“Keep it. You’ll get cold again… return it tomorrow morning.” Toji speaks before you have a chance to give it back to him. You nod as you hold it closer to your chest.

“Alright then. Good night ladies,” he smiles politely before walking back inside. When your eyes shift from his diminishing silhouette to your two friends, they’re both staring at you with hopeful eyes.

“Nothing happened!” you exclaim and their faces drop.

“Fine, that’s it! I’m calling dibs, I’m gonna flirt with him,” Ema retorts. You simply chuckle and shrug, diverting your attention to your phone when it vibrates in your hand. You look at the notification and it’s a text from Toji.

Toji (Work):

Room no. 9010

Don’t leave me hanging, pretty

You lock your phone quickly as you look up again to force yourself to focus on the conversation.

“Could you not get the bottle from the cute bartender? We could’ve taken it to the room,” Ema sighs.

“No but I gave him my room number soooo…” Lisa giggles.

“Guys, I’m feeling a bit too drunk and tired to continue so I’m just gonna go to my room and sleep, okay?” you make up an excuse, hoping it seems believable. However, the girls are too drunk to analyse your lies and they simply pout and bid you ‘goodnight’ in a singsong voice, giving you a group hug.

You quickly make your way to the elevator and press the button to the ninth floor. And although you’re wearing his jacket again, you still feel your body shiver. You take a deep breath when you hear a ding, signalling your arrival. You walk out into the long passage quietly, skimming over the numbers till you spot his room, your heart feeling like it's about to fall out of your chest due to the thrill.

You knock on the door twice and fix your hair nervously. When no one answers, you unlock your phone to call him. You almost let out a scream when you hear the door unlock and he pulls you inside, catching you by surprise and making you stumble.

Before you have a chance to speak, Toji slams the door shut behind you, pushing your body against it before kissing you hungrily. You place your hands on his chest, creasing the fabric as you pull at it, humming into the kiss when his tongue shoves into your mouth. You close your eyes, the fluttering in your stomach making its way down to your core as his tongue plays with yours, making wet smooching sounds in the otherwise quiet room.

“I think you’ve misunderstood this. I’m simply here to return your jacket,” you tease, huffing as you catch your breath when your lips part. He smirks as he slides the jacket off your body till it pools near your feet before caging you against his body with his arms locking around your waist.

“Of course, this is me simply thanking you for returning it,” he moves one hand lower till it’s massaging the flesh of your thigh just below where the fabric of your dress ends.

“Oh, you’re welcome,” you give him another innocent smile as you wrap your arms around his neck and pull his head down for another kiss. 

His hands lift up your dress to your stomach before going back down to squeeze your ass. He deepens the kiss as he towers over you, making you arch your back, causing you to hook your arms around him to keep your balance.

When you break the kiss for another shallow breath, he moves to your jaw, biting and pulling your skin with his teeth as he makes his way down to your neck. You tilt your head to give him more access, letting out soft sighs as he leaves sloppy kisses all over the expanse of your neck.

While his left hand hooks around your waist to keep you steady, he brings his right hand over to your mound, pressing the sticky lace of your thong into your folds. When he feels how wet you are, he groans against your skin, biting it again.

He rubs over the fabric again and you moan out of frustration, he's so close yet there's a tiny barrier between. You try to grind against his hand, whining when he pulls away.

He gets down on his knees before you can complain and lifts your right leg over his shoulder, securing it in place. You lean your whole weight against the door, feeling like you'd fall if you didn’t have something solid to hold onto, so your hands make their way down to tug at his hair.

Toji hooks two fingers into the lace, pulling the fabric to the side to expose your puffy folds to him. He slowly slides two fingers over to separate them, your wetness coating the tips of his fingers immediately. 

“Knew you had a pretty cunt,” he murmurs as his eyes remain fixed on the way his fingers are working you. You let out a breathy moan, tightening your grip on his hair.

He brings his face closer to your core, peppering the entire area with soft kisses. You thrust forward into his face but it only makes him slap the inside of your right thigh harshly.

“Toji… please, stop teasin– ngh,” you plead but your words get caught in your throat when he licks a stripe up your cunt like it's a melting ice cream. He darts his tongue out to wiggle it over your clit and your legs feel as if they're about to snap and go limp.

“Toji– wait… I n-need to take off my heels,” you huff.

“No. They stay on,” is all he says before sliding two fingers into your hole with ease, and at the same time getting back to making out with your clit.

“Fuck– Toji please– ah,” your straight knee buckles forward as you yank at his hair some more to steady yourself. You let out an involuntary yelp when he lifts your other leg over his shoulder as well, burying his face into your pussy, hooking both his arms around your thighs. While this angle hits better, you feel a different kind of thrill about completely having given up control and trusting him not to drop you to the floor.

As you lean your head against the door, your hips rut further into his face and Toji doesn’t relent even for a second. As you hook your feet behind his neck, he brings his right hand down to your hole again, pushing three fingers in this time, meeting with a bit of resistance. The squelching sound of his fingers fucking your hole mixes with the sound of his lips sucking your clit.

“Feel s-so good,” you pant as your thighs twitch around his face. You shaky hands run through his hair weakly as you try to steady your ragged breathing. Each time Toji hits the right spot inside your walls, you moan out praises and encouragement for him to keep going.

He curls his fingers as he picks up the pace and it's brutal. You hold his hair so tight that you hear him hiss momentary before getting back to fucking you with his tongue.

You close your eyes shut as your hip involuntary thrusts forward, twitching uncontrollably as you come all over his fingers. You bite your tongue to control your moans, turning them into muffled whimpers instead. He pulls his hand out to hook it back around your thigh as his tongue starts lapping at your juices to lick you clean.

“Ngh– Toji, too much!” You squeal as you try to move your hips away from his touch but it causes him to poke his tongue out further over your sensitive skin.

“God– please, baby I can’t take it anymore,” you cry as your body jerks violently again. You hear him chuckle before kissing your clit one last time and pulling your legs off his shoulders and standing up again.

When you land on your feet, you're glad he’s holding your waist to keep you from crashing to the ground. He kisses you on your lips and you taste yourself on his tongue. It's enough to take your already intoxicated mind to a new level of high.

He slowly lets you go before stepping back to create distance as he hurriedly takes off his clothes and your eyes widen when you see the way his erect dick hangs low and heavy.

He grabs a condom from his wallet, tearing off the cover before sliding the rubber over his hung cock smoothly. The smug smile on his face grows wider when your eyes peel away from his dick to meet his gaze. You stare at him with a look of astonishment mixed with nervousness. 

“Toji… you're–” you whisper silently. Toji is blessed to say the least.

“It's okay, don't be scared, pretty. I'll make it fit perfectly,” he cooes as he closes the distance between your bodies.

You gulp when he pressed his hands on either side of you, caging you against the door. As he's kissing your shoulder, his hands move to your back to undo your zip. He struggles a bit, fiddling with the zip of your dress and you’re pretty sure you hear a rip when he grows impatient, tugging at the fabric harshly.

“Did you jus–”

“Shh… later,” he blurts out, not giving you a chance to complain as he pulls the dress down your body, unhooking your bra to yank it down. He quickly takes off your thong as well, leaving you exposed as you stand in front of him in only your heels.

“So much better than what I had imagined,” he stares at your naked figure hungrily and you pull him closer to kiss him once again, already missing the way his lips feel.

You wrap your hands around his torso to feel his muscular back with your fingers, growing wetter at how huge his body feels compared to yours. He pulls away to lean down, latching his mouth onto one of your nipples. 

You let out a satisfied hum and he repeats the action on your other nipple. Your eyebrows furrow as your back arches at the sensation and you weakly claw at his pecs.

“Fuck– I can't wait any longer… Just let me know if it hurts too much,” he groans as he scoots you up off the floor completely, hooking your knees over his elbows, opening you up wider as he readjusts his pelvis under you.

You bring a hand down to guide his tip to your entrance, sucking in a deep breath as you look down, anticipating his movement as he begins pushing his dick inside you. 

With your legs spread apart firmly, he presses his hips up, almost losing his shit at how tight you feel. You bring both of your hands up to hug them around his neck. You steady yourself, resting your cheek onto his shoulder briefly when you feel his movement come to a halt. You feel so full, there's a delicious ache in your lower belly.

“Shit– I'm gonna move now, okay?” he grunts. You simply nod your head as he grabs you by your sides to push your lower body away till only his tip is inside before pulling you in closer to fill you up again.

Your eyes roll to the back of your head while your mouth hangs open when Toji begins to slam you onto his hard length, repeating the motion over and over again as you let out broken cries of his name. When he picks up speed, your pussy flutters at the abnormal feeling, causing him to pounce into you harder.

“Oh god– nghh– Toji!” You cry into the crook of his neck.

“Mmh– look at me, let me see that pretty face,” he orders breathily. You pull away from his neck reluctantly, eyebrows still knitted as your lips stay fixed in a silent O shape.

“Look at how well you take my cock… ‘ts a perfect fit,” he hisses when your pussy squeezes him again at his words. You'd always thought that Toji would be the silent type, just like he was at the office, but seeing him spew such vile praises just adds more to the intensity of it all.

“Fuck– Toj–” you whimper as you rest your forehead against his.

‘Hmm? Yes, pretty? Cock got your tongue?” He laughs but it's strained. You tilt your head to kiss him on the lips and he shoves his tongue into your mouth to kiss you back hungrily. You moan into the kiss when he thrusts harder. In a swift motion he pulls away from the kiss, dropping your legs to the ground as he pulls out of you to turn you around.

He pulls your hips back to meet his, while pushing your face flush against the door to arch your back for him. He slides back into your hole in an instant, rutting into you from behind. Your hands press against the surface of the door while he grips onto your hips tighter to keep them from jerking forward due to the force.

You bring your left hand down to rub your clit, the pressure building up further as you get closer to your release. Toji leans forward to press his chest against your back, hooking his hand down to swat yours away. Instead, he replaces it with his fingers to toy with your clit and it feels so much better than your own dainty ones.

When your legs start to shiver as the pressure in your stomach builds up, Toji brings his other hand to intertwine his fingers with yours, pushing your chest further into the door.

With the way you're screaming his name, you're pretty sure anyone passing by outside can hear you. You wonder if that's the reason he's doing it, to show people just how good he's fucking you.

“Toji fuck– I'm coming– fuck!” You cry as your legs shake as you cum hard, threatening to give out, not being able to hold your weight. Despite wanting to finish himself, obsessed over how your pussy is sucking him in, he knows it'll be a bit too much for you to handle at the moment. So, he slows down as he secures one hand around your waist before pulling out completely. 

He turns you around till you're facing him, taking deep breaths to calm your breathing. He bends down to swing your body over his shoulder with ease as if you weigh nothing at all. He walks over to the bed before slamming you back down onto the soft mattress. 

He gives you another cocky smile, proud of how deliciously fucked you look. You recognize this look and just as he's about to lean forward to make his way to you on the mattress, you place one foot onto his chest as the heel digs into his skin.

“Time out… you’re too much,” you sigh and he lets out a snort.

“Better get used to it,” he smiles as he brings his hands up to take off your stiletto, tossing it on the floor before bringing your other leg up to take off the other pair. 

He holds both your feet firmly, pushing them into your torso till you're practically folded in half as he brings one hand down to rub your swollen clit.

“No,” you turn to the side to get out of the position before sitting up straight, looking at his still erect cock in front of you. You lean closer to him as your hand wraps around the length, “Let me make you feel good.”

You roll the condom down before discarding it to the side, leaning forward to kiss his tip, swirling your tongue around the angry swollen head before licking a strip up his shaft. When you open your mouth wide, he grabs his length to tap it on your tongue a few times before you wrap your lips around the thick head. You make eye contact with him as you take in more of him, letting your mouth adjust to his size slowly. He mutters a quiet ‘fuck’ while grabbing the back of your head to push it closer. You gag before you can even take his entire length in your mouth, tears slipping out the corners of your eyes.

“Yes, right there… such a pretty mouth. Come on, I know you can take some– ugh— more,” he grunts and you relax your mouth to deep-throat him.

As Toji lets out breathy cusses, you move a hand down to massage his balls. Your other hand moves between your legs to part your folds and rub soft circles. This doesn’t go unnoticed by the man and you see a mischievous smile creep up on his face.

“Let go, babe,” he smiles while firmly pulling at your hair. You move your head back and you can already feel your throat aching as it readjusts to the emptiness. You’re still stimulating his tip with kitten licks, lapping at the precum, all the while touching yourself desperately.

Toji grabs both of your wrists as he pushes you back up on the bed, climbing up before lying on his back. As you await his instructions, you’re confused when he signals you to sit on his face. You hesitantly straddle his chest but it all makes sense when he tells you to turn around. You giggle as the heat rushes to your cheeks as you lie face-down on top of him to sixty-nine him.

“Now, stop being so greedy and focus on sucking my dick,” he speaks as he pulls at your asscheeks to part them, parting your folds with his tongue. Your toes curl in as you lean down to take him in your mouth once again.

As you bob your head up and down, sucking his entire length, his groans vibrate against your pussy as he eats you out just as fervently.

You steady your hands on his thighs as the muscles flex and relax every time his tip kisses the back of your throat. You close your eyes to focus on your movement as it gets harder and harder with Toji slurping at your pussy ruthlessly.

When you bring your hands over to play with his balls, it has him unravelling quickly. After edging himself unintentionally the whole night, he can’t help but feel like this is the tipping point.

“Do you– mmh– mind swallowing?” His voice is strained. You shake your head no, not parting from his cock even for a second. His nails dig into the flesh of your ass as thoughts of you flood his mind.

He can’t help but feel his pride swell that he's the one who gets to ravage his seemingly innocent co-worker like this. As if it weren’t already hard enough, imagining the things he’d do to you when he saw you at the office – now he had actual memories in flesh to make it harder.

Two months ago, he wouldn’t have imagined you'd be going dumb over his dick this way. Your interactions had always been respectful, despite him flirting with you occasionally. It was only about a month ago that you took him by surprise when you give a witty reply,  flirting back with him.

Toji knew a thing or two about breakups, so when he subtly inquired and eavesdropped in conversations around the office, he heard your loudmouth friend talk about how sad it was that your ex had the audacity to dump you when you clearly were out of his league.

Sad indeed, Toji thought, wanting nothing more than to finally get to fuck his pretty colleague. But when you both were assigned on a project together about three weeks ago, the flirting had gotten out of hand and your talks were no longer just a few words exchanged out of courtesy. Toji knew he wasn't made for relationships but a part of him wanted to make you his and greedily keep you to him.

As he enjoys the way you’re sucking his dick with your pretty pussy fluttering under his touch, his desire to have you has only grown stronger.

He leans his head back when he feels himself shoot his load into your mouth, his dick twitching as he feels you lick and struggle to swallow him.

“Fucking hell–” he sighs, kneading the flesh of your ass lazily. When he feels the weight of your body lift up, he grabs your waist to pull your ass back to hover it over his face.

“Where do you think you're going?” He huffs and before you can answer, he's eating you out at a faster pace than before. You already feel overstimulated as is but when Toji pushes two fingers inside, it turns you into a blabbering mess.

You arch your back as you lean forward with your fingers denting the skin over his abdomen. You grind your hips to feel his tongue on your cunt. Your head hangs limply when you cum once again on his tongue and Toji continues to slurp at your juices.

You body twitches violently and you beg him to slow down. He chuckles as he licks you clean before placing a quick kiss over your folds, relaxing his grip to let you get off.

You roll over to the side till you're lying on your back, your chest heaving as you take deep breaths. You look down when you feel a hand on your shin. He smiles lazily at you as he caresses your skin. You smile back before closing your eyes to relax, but open them back again when you feel the mattress dip as the figure beside you shifts.

You find Toji caging you with his arms on either side of your head as he leans down to kiss your lips. You close your eyes, humming into the kiss. He dips his head down to give you another mark on your neck, bringing one hand down to play with your nipples.

“Let me rest!” you push his chest but it doesn't faze him at all.

“Okay fine,” he laughs, “I'm only going easy on you cause it's our first time.”

“Easy? You really live up to your reputation,” you stare at him in disbelief. This makes him laugh and it’s the first time you hear his real laughter and not the smug, cocky chuckles of usual. You grin when you feel a warm fuzzy feeling in your heart, maybe Toji Fushiguro has more to him than he lets on.

He creates some space between you when he gets off and before you can ask him what he's doing, he lifts you up in his arms to carry you to the bathroom. 

When he sits you down on the sink counter to run the hot water tap to fill up the tub, you giggle.

“What?” He walks back to you.

“Nothing… just… Now, I get why women apparently call you unforgettable,” you mumble, trying hard not to blush.

“I don't do this for them,” he shrugs. You roll your eyes at him, not believing his words.

He chuckles, “I'm serious! I don’t fuck around… much. It's not a communal dick.”

“Oh really? What have I done to deserve such special treatment?” You tease.

“If I want to keep seeing you, I have to make you want to see me again too,” he smiles, leaning closer till he’s standing between your parted legs, brushing a finger over your lips.

“I think you guaranteed that right after you made me come the first time,” you laugh.

“That easy? Why's that?”

You shake your head no and he raises an eyebrow, urging you to speak.

“Well… if you must know, I rarely came with my ex. He said he got tired quickly so often I'd finish myself off in the shower later,” you confess, feeling a bit embarrassed at admitting this to him.

“Damn. What a fucking loser,” Toji chuckles dryly as he lazily rubs soft circles on your inner thighs, “Well, I'm glad he sucked. It really was time for an upgrade.”

You laugh as you play with the hair on his nape. You wonder out loud, “Have you ever thought about anyone else from the office?”

“Like who? You’re the only one there who I’d get blue balls for,” he laughs.

“Seriously? Not even Ema or Lisa? They’re pretty hot,” you push.

“Not my type.”

“Hmm”

“Why do you ask?”

“Nothing… just…”

“They’re painfully obvious about their crush if that’s what you’re asking,” he lets out another dry chuckle as he brushes your loose strands to the side, “Well they won't bother from tomorrow.”

“Why's that?” your eyebrows furrow.

“Unless you have a top that covers your entire neck, they’re going to figure shit out instantly,” he smirks as he traces the light red/purple bruises on your neck. You twist to the side to look at your reflection in the mirror.

Your eyes widen as you gasp, “Toji! How am I going to cover these?”

“Maybe don't... it doesn’t matter if they find out– maybe that way the gossip will reach your loser ex and he’ll know just how well I take care of you,” he teases, nuzzling his nose into your neck.

“God, you’re obsessed,” you giggle as you slap his chest lightly.

“Hmm, maybe. Told you I'm not one to share… especially not when your pussy tastes so good,” he kisses down your body till his face is in front of your core again. 

“I never said yes to our little arrangement… I can always back out,” you tease but your breath hitches when he presses his tongue to your core once again.

“Hmm, maybe I need to try my best to convince you then,” he nibbles and you instinctively tangle your fingers into his hair, closing your eyes as you enjoy the way Toji fucks you with his tongue once again.

“Toji… the bathtub,” you sigh when you hear the water overflow. Toji pulls away, holding his hand out and pulling you to the bathtub. Once in, he closes the tap and turns you around till your back is flush against his chest. He kisses your shoulder from behind when you're nestled against his broad torso.

As you straddle his lap, you feel his boner poke your skin.

“Leave some for tomorrow,” you let out an exhausted chuckle.

“Ignore it…,” he speaks softly and you lean back, dropping your weight onto his chest. You close your eyes as you feel him rub and massage your skin with a soothing pressure all over.

You don’t realise you begin drifting into light sleep but blink a few times when your head jerks up, feeling his body shift underneath you. You lean forward to allow him some space and he gets out of the tub. You eye the way the water drips down his body, trickling over his toned back muscles before he grabs the towel to pat himself dry. His damp hair falls over his temple and you smile to yourself – you could definitely get used to this.

He holds his hand out to you and you take it as you get out of the tub. You undo the towel around his waist to dry your own body, feeling your skin prick due to the cold air after having spent a good few minutes in the hot tub.

Just as you’re about to wrap the towel around your torso, Toji tugs it out of your hand to drop it to the floor and instead lifts you up again to carry you out into the bedroom.

“Toji, I’m cold,” you hug your arms around his neck.

“I know… don’t worry, I’ll keep you warm,” he says as he lays you down on the bed, readjusting his position till he’s on top.

“I really think we should get some sleep,” you giggle when he kisses you cheek.

“This is how we build up your endurance… with more practice,” he leaves open mouthed kisses down your throat.

You laugh as you yank his hair to pull his face away from your skin. “Let me sleep! Good night.”

“You can sleep… I don’t mind,” he mumbles as his tongue teases one of your nipples, biting the hardened bud lightly.

“Toji! Behave!” you scold him in a not-so-convincing tone.

“If I had behaved, we wouldn’t be here,” he rolls his eyes as he gets back up to give you a long, lazy smooch till you’re both out of breath. When your lips part, he rolls to the side, collapsing on the bed next to you. 

He covers the thick blanket over your bodies before pulling you to his chest and kissing your shoulder with a soft ‘good night’. The act is surprising as you hadn’t really taken him for the cuddling type. You feel his boner stick out against your back once again and you laugh.

“Shh, this is all very new. Give me some time,” he teases, snaking his arm around your waist. You wrap your hand over his, letting yourself melt into his arms when he rubs soft circles over your belly. You involuntarily rub your ass against his hard on and he presses your stomach to still your movement.

“Don’t do that if you want to sleep,” he warns and you giggle as you close your eyes, the tiredness of the whole day taking over your senses as you fall asleep in his arms.

~~~

You wake up when you hear your phone ring from a distant corner. You try to move Toji’s heavy arm to free yourself but he pulls you in even closer.

“My phone’s ringing,” you whisper as you turn your head to look at him. His eyes are still closed as he grumbles in a low voice, “Let it.”

You still manage to wiggle yourself out of his grasp and quietly walk towards where your phone was lying on the floor near the door. Toji stirs and sits up, his eyes following your naked form as you pick up the call.

“Did you die in there or something?”, you wince when you hear Ema’s voice on the other end.

“Open the door, we’ve been out here for, like, 5 minutes now,” Lisa’s voice is more distant.

When your brain registers what they’re talking about, you slap a hand over your mouth as you stare at Toji.

“Give me 5 minutes,” you mutter before hanging up, not giving them a chance to protest. Toji gets off the bed and walks towards you.

“Ema and Lisa… they’re outside my room… and I'm here,” you sigh as you pick up your garments off the floor.

“Told you there’s no point in hiding,” he says, tucking a loose strand behind your ear, “I’ll walk you to your room.”

You simply narrow your eyes at him with a ‘yeah, right’. He takes the dress from your hand.

“I’m not joking…” he holds the dress up in front of you and shrugs, “Besides, you’re gonna have to wear my clothes anyway.”

You see that the zip is broken with the fabric looking frayed where the zip ends – you had heard it right, he did rip your dress last night.

“I really liked that dress,” you pout but it’s far from a complaint. You know you cannot complain after a night like that.

“I liked it too… it gave me a really hard time the entire night,” he gives you a quick peck, far from apologetic, “I’ll get you one just like it.”

You simply blush at his words before pressing your hands on his chest, “Fineee, get me something to wear.”

He squeezes your ass once before walking away to his suitcase. You put on your thong and bra back on just as he returns with a t-shirt and sweatpants. You snatch them out of his hands and put them on quickly. 

He laughs at how baggy his sweats are, the compression t-shirt is still okay in comparison, “Guess it’s too big for you?”

You crinkle your nose, cringing at his joke as you secure the drawstring tightly to keep the pants from sliding down, “No, it’s not that big.”

“Is that so?”, he wraps his arms around your waist, caging you in, “Do I need to refresh your memory?”

“Toji! My friends are waiting!” you slap his chest and he laughs, leaning down to kiss you.

“Let them,” he moves his lips down to your jaw.

“No, let’s leave,” you wiggle your way out of his arms, shoving your phone in the pocket of his sweats before picking up your heels to carry them in one hand. He quickly puts on a different pair of sweatpants with an oversized t-shirt and sliders before grabbing his keycard. 

“Oh wait… I think my keycard is in your jacket from yesterday,” you turn around when you’re at the door to find him already rummaging through the pockets to retrieve it. You grin at him and he simply shrugs, “Told you, I’m a gentleman.”

You roll your eyes again as he opens the door and you quickly make your way to the elevator. Toji’s hand is resting on your lower back when the elevator dings and the doors open. 

You know there’s no point in hiding, yet you walk ahead of him as you notice your two friends standing outside your room. Before you have a chance to greet them, you hear Toji’s booming voice from behind, “Morning, ladies!”

You brace yourself for their reaction and it’s just as animated as you’d expected. They don't try to be subtle about it as they smirk at you while greeting the man in unison and you realise it's a lost cause trying to keep it a secret.

And it surely doesn’t help that Toji makes it a point to grab your jaw and kiss you goodbye in front of the two for no damn reason, as if it weren’t already obvious about what had transpired between you two. 

As he leaves, you smile at him, watching him walk away. The heat rushes to your cheek when you hear Ema fake a cough and you turn around to look at your friends. 

“Open the door ASAP! I wanna know everything,” Lisa squeals and you know your friends would not leave you alone until you went into heavy detail about the whole night.

~fin~

[beefrobeefcal]

Beefro Proudly Presents:

a Joel Miller & his Darlin' One Shot: A Trouble Shared is a Trouble Halved Summary: You and Joel navigate settling down in Jackson as a couple with its ups and downs. (Post Outbreak)

Pairing: Joel Miller x F!Reader | Rating: Explicit 18+ (MDNI) | Word Count: 3,900

Content Warning: Smutty smutty smut smut, fingering (f receiving), talk of eating, weight gain, oral (f receiving), angst, established relationship growing pains, argument

Author's Notes: Am I back? Maybe baby! I'm delighted to finally do what was asked of me in a poll and I thank you all for your love and patience.

Thanks be to @neverwheremoonchild, @strang3lov3, and @notjustjavierpena for their eyes, thots, and brains. And thank you to @noxturnalpascal for the THOT that gave life to this fic so very long ago.

“Eatin’ like it's your last day on earth, Miller...”, you teased with a wry smile as you walked past him in the dining hall.

“Shut it...”, he grumbled, a bit of pink flushing his cheeks. He took another bite of gravy-flooded mashed potatoes.

“What helping’s this? Third? Fourth?”

Joel looked at you, exasperated. “The fuck? Can't a man enjoy his girl’s cookin’ without the third degree?”

You smiled at him, loving how much of a rise you were getting. It had been a few months since you and Joel had your first encounter, and while nothing was made official, more often than not, you’d find yourself entwined with Joel in your bed at night. His heavy, full stomach pressed against your back as you both slept peacefully. While you enjoyed your time together, you were beginning to feel something was lacking, hence your teasing.

The cold glare he gave immediately dampened the playful banter between you. You felt a twist in your mood and sour heat in your stomach.

He shook his turkey leg at you, giving you a scolding look, and warned, “You better knock that shit off, Darlin’... or so help me, I’m not gonna - .”

“Not gonna what?”, you asked, getting closer, and you voice dropped down to a cool whisper only he could hear. “Not gonna fuck me? Pretty sure haven’t been doing that lately anyway, so what’d be the difference, huh?”

He sat back with wide eyes and his mouth open in shock, and his full belly sat rounded out on his lap. You stood up, brow raised, and arms crossed.

“The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!”

Joel was affectionate, but usually too tired, full or both to do anything but let you ride him. And not to say you didn't enjoy it, but it was starting to feel a bit one sided. He hadn’t done anything beyond finger you a bit to get you ready and then sweet talk you into being on top again. He’d apologize and praise you, but you wanted more. Especially now that there was more to him.

His eating habits had really started to impact his physique; his jawline was softer, his arms and thighs were thicker, but his stomach was truly the star of the show. He’d made do with the clothes he had for as long as he could, but at the rate he was eating and the limited physical activity he’d been doing, he had to trade labor and time for new shirts and pants that would fit him. And on nights when he ate like this, you swore you could hear the seams praying to their polyester gods for mercy.

“You know exactly what I mean.”

“Coulda fooled me!”, he snapped, louder than he meant. “Seems to do the trick and make you whine and mewl like a beaten dog almost every night!”

You felt your face get hot as a few heads in the dining hall turned towards you. He sighed and his eyes softened as he saw your face fall a bit. But you held firm, pulling your mouth into a scowl.

“Not every night, nowhere near it. And I’m the one doing the work. I’m the one fuckin’ you!”, you hissed.

Before giving him a chance to say anything else, you quickly turned and went back into the kitchen.

*****

After storming out of the dining hall, you’d spent the rest of your shift cleaning the entire kitchen, probably to a degree it hadn’t been since its installation. You’d scrubbed and polished every surface with enough fury in your eyes that no one dared step in. It wasn’t until you heard the jukebox turn off and see the lights in the dining hall dim that you realized you’d been at this for a few hours.

As you leaned back against the counter, head down and thinking over how your and Joel’s interaction had escalated like that, you heard a small voice say your name. You looked up and saw Sally, one of the other kitchen attendants.

“Sorry - don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m tryin’ to close up and Joel won’t leave. Says he’s not leavin’ without’cha.”

You scoffed out a ‘for fuck’s sake’ then walked to the swinging doors, only to see Joel, still seated where he was before, leaning back in his chair and picking his teeth with a toothpick. His eyes met yours, and you knew just from the look he was giving, he had a lot more to say.

“Joel, go home. Need to close up and can’t if you’re here.”

He looked behind you at Sally and gave her a small wave. “I’ll help her close up, Sally. You run on home. We got this.”

“Joel!”, you hissed.

“Go on now, Sally.”

His tone left little room for Sally to argue, and she muttered a ‘good night’ as she passed by you then Joel as head made her way out the door.  You sighed, clenching your jaw, feeling the frustration and anger that you’d just weeded down in your cleaning frenzy begin to rise again. Joel watched Sally leave, then turned back to you, smug look on his face, made all the smugger as he noted your irritation.

“Darlin’, cut that shit out and come’ere.”, he crooned with a small grin, hilding his hand out to you.

You glared at him, not moving from your position.

He kept his hand out and raised his eyebrows and let out a huff. “Don’t make this old man beg, baby…”

“I think this old man has a lot more ground to cover than just beggin’.”, you responded cooly, crossing your arms across your chest. Before Joel could answer, you turned and went back to the kitchen to finish your duties.

You figured there was a 50 / 50 chance of Joel following you in, so as the door swung open and his heavy footsteps lumbered towards you, you knew he was at least picking up slightly on the passive aggressive breadcrumbs you’d dropped. You kept your back to him, drying cutlery and putting them into their respective bins.

“Darlin’…”

Joel’s voice was set low in a growl, leaving you unable to tell whether he was angry or aroused. You jumped as his hand grazed your lower back and settled on your waist, giving you a small squeeze.

“You wan’me to beg?”, he huskily growled into the back of your neck as he pressed a kiss to your skin.

“I gotta finish closin’ up, Joel.”, you stated, keeping your voice as even and unaffected as you could muster.

Joel let out a frustrated sigh-turned-grunt and let you go, stepping back. He leaned back against the wooden shelf behind him, the wood creaking in objection to his weight.

“Fuck, you’re being-“, he started, before letting out a huff. “What has gotten into you?”

Turning around, you were met with something you didn’t anticipate – a dark, sullen, glaring Joel, eyes burning into you.

“Joel-“, you groaned, before he cut you off.

“Don’t fuckin’ Joel me.”, he snapped. “You got a lot of fuckin’ nerve. You know what you said in front of the people eatin’ their food out there? You said I wasn’t fuckin’ you right. And then, I sit here like a goddamned fool, waitin’ for you to finish so we can talk, and you turn your back on me.”

“Joel, I need t-“

“Shut up! I ain’t done talkin’!”

You close your mouth and swallow hard. While you’d seen him get mad before, Joel had never directed it towards you before, and lord almighty, it sucked.

“You think I’m a fuckin’ mind reader? Think I’m gonna know you’re not happy?”, he asked, sounding loud and desperate, as he stood up and stalked towards you.

As he looked down at you, realization of how much bigger he was, in height and weight, came over you.

“I have said someth-“, you tried to argue, but his large hand grabbing yours and tugging you against him stopped you.

“Don’t interrupt me!”, he barked. “You aint said shit! And now you – fuck! No. You know what? Ain’t worth it!”

His eyes glowered down into yours and you in turn felt your eyes begin to sting with tears at the loss of contact. This was the most emotionally charged you’d seen Joel, and you wanted that same energy and passion when he fucked you, not use it to berate you for needing him to give you the same time and attention he showered on the food you cooked for the whole community. You could feel your face getting hot from the anger that was boiling in you over how overlooked you felt, even if it wasn’t entirely true. You were in a heated, frenzied spiral and reason and rationale had abandoned you.

Before you could snap back and tell him how worth it you actually were, Joel’s eyes softened; he let out a deep breath and let go of your arm and stepped back.

“I’ll… I’ll see you at home.”, Joel muttered before he turned and walked out of the kitchen.

You stood silently and watched him leave, feeling your heart break and immolate in your rib cage and hot tears fall down your face. It hit you hard just how hurt you both were.

*****

The house was dark when you walked in the front door. Joel had left no lights on, and you knew Ellie would be at Dina’s house for the night. The only hint you had to deduce that Joel was in fact home was the dim light you saw through his bedroom window as you approached the house. You hung your coat and tucked your boots on the shelf before quietly ascending the stairs to go to your room.

As you tiptoed in the hallways, you passed Joel’s bedroom door and heard him moving around his room. You could see his shadow from the light slipping under his doorway and felt your stomach curdle and sour, your mind jumping to rash conclusions about what he could be doing in there.

Was he packing to move out and get away from you?

Was he trying to clean up to remove your smell?

Was he collecting your things that you’d left in his room so he could hand them to you and tell you to get out?

As the thoughts rippled through your brain, you knew Joel was more methodical than that. He wouldn’t just leave or make you leave like that… would he?

You stepped forward, forgetting about that floorboard. The creak that sang out made both you and Joel’s shadow stop. You kept still for a moment, but the shadow didn’t move either. You were suddenly thrust back into your childhood; the times you were trying to sneak down into the kitchen to grab a snack or watch a blue movie on cable television without your parents catching you.

That fucking floorboard.

The shadow moved slightly, signaling Joel was getting closer to the door, and you moved quickly to your room, no longer caring how much noise you made. As you reached to grab your door handle, you heard Joel’s door pull open.

“Darlin’?”

Your hand clasped the knob, and you closed your eyes, hearing his voice.

“Yeah, Joel?”

You were surprised how soft and calm your voice sounded; it was a stark contrast to the overwhelming, post-anger, anxiety-ridden mess that was your mind.

“Turn around and look at me, Baby.”

“M’tired, Joel… Just gonna go to bed and – “

“I said turn around.”

It wasn’t a request. His tone was gentle, but you could feel it in your bones that this was a command - a soft one, but a command none the less. Your skin prickled in a wave of goosebumps, up your body, culminating at the base of your neck.

Joel must have been able to see the effect he had on you, because the voice he used to speak almost melted the flesh from your bones.

“Darlin’, you’re gonna turn around and look at me. Now.”

You turned around and looked at him. His broad and hefty silhouette stood ominously in his doorway, backlit by the soft glow from his bedroom.

“You comin’ to bed?”, Joel said quietly, but there was an edge to his tone that made your skin once again pebble.

You narrowed your eyes and tilted your head at his question, then shook your head subtly.

“No, Joel. I figured we’d take the night an-“

“And what?”, he snapped, stepping out into the hallway and towards you.

When you didn’t answer, he took another few steps and growled in a lower tone, “And what?!”

Your eyes went wide as he got closer, and your fight or flight kicked in. Taking a step back, you hit your bedroom door, and stumbled through your words. “I… I-I thought… I figured that you’d wanna-“

“That I’d wanna what?”, he snarled, stepping close and his full belly pressed you further into your door.

“Th-that you’d… you’d wanna be… alone to-tonight…”

Joel’s hand came up and he grabbed your chin, forcing your face square to his. “And why d’you think that?”

“Because… because we fought-“

“And you think that gives you the right to not sleep in my bed?”

You were stunned; you had no answer for him, and you also hadn’t ever been this turned on by him with out him already being knuckle deep in your pussy. You swallowed hard and stared back at him. This was a feeling you couldn’t place; it felt like you were slipping under a spell that Joel was casting.

The only response you could finally give was a headshake, and Joel returned it with a curt nod and slight grin.

“Good girl.”, he purred and released your chin.

You followed Joel back into his room, and stood awkwardly as he closed the door. You’d been in his room countless times, and you’d never felt this out of place. You jumped when he put his hands on your hips from behind and pulled you back, the curve of your spine being the perfect angle for his heavy belly to fit against.

“You feel like I’m not takin’ care of you, Darlin’?”, he huskily mewled into your ear before nipping it.

“Joel, I’m sor-“

“Stop.”, he said, abruptly stopping you from finishing your apology.

“We’re past that, Darlin’. Both said things we needed to say, even if we said’em not so nicely.”

You could hear the small smile in his voice and couldn’t help the one that tugged at your mouth slightly. A whisper soft sound came out of you with a sigh. 

But then his tone dipped down, and as he rasped into your ear; one of his hands on your hip slipped to your front as he cupped your denim clad mound.

“You got my attention, baby. You feelin’ needy?”

Your mouth opened, and our flew a feather-light choked whimper. He gripped you roughly and pulled you snug against him, enough so that you could feel his thick and hard cock press against your ass.

“That why you had an attitude with me today? Needed me to fuck you? Fix that ache in your needy pussy?”

You breathed his name out as your brows furrowed and your eyes clenches closed. “Joel…” Your hand snapped on top of his over your crotch, forcing him to apply more pressure and squeeze.

“Need me to remind you that you’re mine?”, he growled before biting the crux of your neck and shoulder.

You nodded, breathing rapidly, then you let out a squeal as he shook your hand off his, then turned and shoved you against the wall. He got close and his hands made quick work in opening and shoving down your jeans. His eyes snapped up to yours and his hand dove between your legs.

“Fuck, baby…”, he sighed, eyes rolling back as he felt how wet you were. “My poor girl’s floodin’ the basement and it’s’all my fault.”

You grabbed his wrist, stabilizing yourself, and let whining pants out with each breath as his middle finger began to dip in an out of your hole. The tip of his thumb gently circled you’re aching clit.

“Yeah… I know I been neglectin’ you, baby girl… but not ‘cause of nothin’ you did… no, baby… you’re just keepin’ me too well fed and I’m fit to be tied by the time we get home… if I could fuck you the way you deserve every night…”

“Oh fuck… Joel, I need y –“

“But you always lettin’ me get away with being lazy an’watchin’ your perfect tits bounce while you fuck this fat old man…”, he rasped, his lids heavy as he watched your face contort in need. “Jesus, Darlin’, you got e’ry right to be cross with me…”

As much as you loved his voice, you needed more. Fisting his shirt, you pulled his face to yours and sucked him into a desperate and messy kiss, teeth and tongues colliding, and it was sharp and splitting. You didn’t need gentle – you needed him.

He finally pulled back, breathing heavily, same as you, and a grin tugged at his parted lips.

“Oh, Darlin’…”, he cooed, finger and thumb still working your cunt in tandem. He leaned in, ghosting his mouth over yours and asked in a voice so soft, you could have cried. “I need you to know how bad you got me, baby… tell me what I can do to prove it.”

Emboldened by his lust-blown eyes with heavy lids looking at you desperately, you put your hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle push down. A smile pulled at one side of his mouth, instantly understanding your silent request. He stepped back and groaned as he lowered himself down, joints cracking as he got on one knee, and he looked up as he pulled your jeans down further then helped you step out, one leg at a time. As he de-robed your second leg, he lifted it over his shoulder, and he scooted forward, and your eyes stayed trained on him, catching every detail, every twitch of his face as he breathed huskily and inhaled your scent. You watched his eyes flutter and roll back, like you were a buffet of fine cuisine, and he was a starved man. He pressed his nose in your crux and nudged in further, panting and swearing under his breath as he let your aroma and essence envelope him.

He took his time, as if he was making sure to catch every flavour, every note of your taste and smell, almost punishing himself for allowing you to feel unappreciated. His hands reached behind and pulled your hips forward into his face and you whimpered out a gasp as your shoulders planted against the wall behind you being the only thing keeping you upright.

“Joel…”, you breathed out, swallowing, trying to alleviate the dry mouth your open mouth breathing had caused. “Joel, please…”

He groaned into your warmth and opened his mouth, finally letting himself have a taste. His tongue licked out between your folds, starting slowly, but began to increase in intensity as he realized this was his favourite thing to savour. He grunted and panted as he lapped at you, his grip that held you so firmly to his face hurting you in the absolute best way possible.

Your fingers pulled his hair, aiding in keeping your core tightly affixed to his gaping maw, and you rocked your hip, mewling and crying out, begging him for more. Joel was in no position to deny you want you needed, not only because of the iron-clad connection currently created by both of your individual efforts, but he was eating his favourite thing. He’d denied you both for so long, he would happily suffocate between your thighs before ever taking a proper breath again if it paid the price of his sin. The noises he made as he ate and licked and devoured you sounded obscene - he sounded like a starved and feral dog, gnawing at a cut of meat tossed to him out of pity. You’re sure that if you saw his eyes, they’d be a black abyss like a shark’s as it bit down on its next meal.

The sounds he was ripping and peeling out of you were music to his ears, championing him further, pushing him harder to make you give him more of those delicious noises. He was rocking his hips in time with his mouth and tongue, letting his throbbing cock rut against the inside of his jean’s rough zipper. Between that, your taste and your fingers pulling his scalp taught with hair, he was in pure ecstasy.

He brought his hand attached to the shoulder your leg was propped up on and pushed two thick fingers into your core and began to pump them in and out - again, in time with his own hips’ rhythm. The white-hot burning coil that Joel had been slowly winding with his mouth finally sprung loose and snapped. You arched your back, silently screaming out as your body went rigid, and vaguely heard Joel growl. He continued to suck hard on your twitching and swollen clit and punched his fingers up into you as your rode out your orgasm. You heard liquid hitting the wood floor before you heard Joel let out a series of high-pitched groans.

His fingers slowed and his mouth was panting hot, quick breaths on your aching core. You looked down at him, chest heaving, to see him shakily pull his fingers from you and shove them in his mouth. Joel was a beautiful and carnal sight: breathing hard in grunts as he sucked his fingers clean. The act looked primitive, like he’d accessed his baser instincts, and he was satisfying a basic human need, a millennia in the making.

“Joel.”, you croaked, and he looked up at you with blurred eyes that slowly began to focus. He slowly pulled himself up, heaving his heavy belly. You helped him come back to his fully height and he leaned into you, pressing his forehead to yours. You could smell yourself on him as he kissed you softly before resuming your connection through foreheads.

“That was…”

“Yeah… fuck yeah… taste so good.”

“I wanna return the fav-“

Your hand cupped what you thought would be his hard cock, but stopped when you felt him softening and his jeans were warm and damp. You pulled your head back and looked at him, prompting a huffed laugh from Joel, pink flushing up his neck to his cheeks.

“You’re my favourite meal, Darlin’. You got me hooked.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby.”

He pulled you away from the wall and onto the bed. He laid back and groaned as his spine relaxed. His full belly domed above him, moving gently up and down with each breath and you sat up, giving it a rub.

“You ate well tonight…”, you cooed, unbuckling his belt and opening his jean to access the mess he made.

He chuckled, supporting his head on an arm as he watched you with a grin. “Couldn’t help it… you serve food too good to not destroy myself on it, Darlin’.”

You shot him a look as you peeled back his damp and sticky underwear.

“Like I said, Darlin’…  you serve up a good meal.”

beef's glossary: The term "blue movie" is an old-fashioned slang term used to describe pornographic films, usually of the low budget variety.

TAGLIST: @theywhowriteandknowthings @harryleatherfit @toxicanonymity @harriedandharassed @neverwheremoonchild @rebel-held @beee-haw @nevergoingbacknowshine @idolatrybarbie @v4vayha @lalocitos @xdaddysprincessxx @deathsholywaterr @heareball @lyssramscal @wintrwinchestr @nerdieforpedro  @southernbe @starkeydaviss @noxturnalpascal @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@vabeachazn @clawdee @iamasaddie @tightjeansjavi@rubyfruitjungle@lilmizmoz @strang3lov3

[as-is-above-so-below]

The Captain - Simon Riley x Sniper!Reader, Wife!Reader

Blurb 2: Too Fast

I'M ALIVE! Thank you all for your patience :) I've had so many big life changes in the last four months (and in the coming months) - it's hard being an adult, people. I've been traveling (mainly visiting @lethalchiralium a bunch <3), planning a big move, looking to land a new job...all the things. Anyway! Please enjoy. Blessed be, and Happy Yuletide!

<< Previous | Next >>

“Si…”

“Hm?”

“He’s getting too big.”

Simon turned his chair slightly away from his desk to peek over his shoulder. In the doorway to their office stood Freyja with a six-month-old Arthur on her arm, clad in a cow-print onesie. The little hood was pulled up over his head, sporting fluffy little ears on top, along with a pair of horns. 

He just about melted when Frey pouted at him and sniffled, rubbing their son’s back. Simon was up in an instant, padding across the carpet to stand by her side, a soft, sympathetic smile gracing his features. He bent his head a little and attempted to get the baby’s attention, gently brushing his back with his fingers “Art. Artie…” he hummed, the last syllable drawn out a bit. “Look at Dada, Art.”

Arthur did eventually turn his head, after a moment, preoccupied with gumming his toy and confused by the interruption. The hood that used to hang over his face and block his vision now sat snug on his fine hair. There was no need to adjust it back to meet his big, curious eyes. 

“Hi, pup.”

Simon wasn’t his preferred parent by any means; that privilege was reserved for his mum. Still, on seeing a familiar face, the baby smiled around his teething ring, and his fat cheeks chubbed up as he cooed and wiggled in Freyja’s hold. He pressed his hand between the two, his palm against Arthur’s chest, and took the infant onto his forearm, his little back against his chest. 

Simon let out a dramatic huff, kissed Art’s head, then patted his belly. “Oh, yeah,” he said, giving his wife a playful look. “Look at those big, manly legs of yours. Thing’s a bit tight on ye, now.”

The baby craned his neck, trying to look back at his dad as he spoke, and quickly getting frustrated and crying out. Simon chuckled and turned him around, supporting his neck and peppering kisses on Art’s rosy cheek. When he was satisfied, he leaned down for a quick kiss from Freyja.

“It lasted longer than I thought it would. He’s nearly busting out of it.”

“Simon!”

“What? He’s six months old, Freyja. He’s been wearing it since he was born. Oversized, might I add.”

“Shut up. It’s my favorite. My little moo cow.” 

“We can buy him a new one.”

“He’s growing too fast. I hate it.”

Don’t I know it?

To Simon, it felt like Artie had only been born yesterday. Where did the baby in front of him, who was sitting up on his own and already using a sign or two, come from? He had no idea, couldn’t say where the time went. God forbid he blinks, and suddenly he’ll be walking and chasing after his sister-

No. It’s fine. That’s what babies do, yeah? They start eating solids, learn to crawl, then walk. Then they go to their first day of primary school, then…secondary…

Stop it.

He settled for a soft, “I know, love.”

Arthur cooed up at him again, a sound known to pull easy smiles from the man. He would listen to it forever, if he could. 

“Yeah? Do you like that idea?” Simon asked, tracing patterns on Art’s back with his fingers again. “Do you want a new cow onesie?” A little smile from Art. “Alright, pup. Dad will get you one.”

taglist: @esthervalea, @miss-leto, @sweetestcowboy, @blueoorchid, @apocalypticseagull, @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction, @covenlovenn, @330bpm-whiplash, @gnoccheyy, @jaggernauticals, @dwkfan, @untoldshortsofthefandomsdoms, @bobfloydsgf, @maviee, @thomaslefteyebrow, @kyovy, @prodyng, @scout-fang, @avalkyrieofparis, @misshoneypaper, @berryjuicyy, @voteforpedropascal, @beakami, @addictedtothefictionalworld, @kaghost, @witchy-writing, @67-angelofthelordme-67, @thychuvaluswife, @mysticalpandabear, @cabreezer0117, @halfmoth-halfman, @peachesofteal, @nirvanaaaonly, @ysljoon, @ssoliva, @fenixyrie, @voodoo-writer, @eleazarkate, @tomhardy41, @glitterypirateduck, @cringeycookies, @captainquake42

Copyright © 2023 as-is-above-so-below. All rights reserved.

[blue-slxt]

Imagine petite!human reader literally being used as a living fleshlight😩

Like she’s so small she can just be lifted off the ground and pounded🥴

Honestly don’t even care who it’s written for feels like a Jake, lo’ak, or quaritch kinda senecio

Sincerely, a no where near petite girlie

Thank you so much for your patience. I've been working on like a million different things at the same time so I am so behind on requests. But I looove this idea. Something about just being manhandled however your partner wants you to be is so fucking aaaaaaaarrrrrrrrgggggghhhhhhhh😩! Anyways, I hope you enjoy this.

🔞Minors Do Not Interact🔞

Smut under the cut.

“Make sure you don’t break my bed with your big ass.” You playfully scold Lo’ak while pulling on your spaghetti strap shirt. He flops his entire body weight onto your bed making it creak. It was times like this when you really took note of just how big of a size difference there was between you. Of course, the Na’vi were much bigger than average humans already, but you were even on the small side for humans. Watching how his body can’t fit properly on your bed while you could be swallowed whole by your sheets and blankets never ceased to amaze you. He waves you off with a ‘yeah, yeah’ while he makes himself comfortable putting his hands under his head. You roll your eyes at him and start to search through all the DVDs you have for something for you two to watch.

“What are you in the mood for this time? Something funny? Romantic? Dramatic?” you fire off the different genres as you toss aside disc after disc.

“Hmm…” he dramatically hums thinking about his answer.

You don’t bother to look at him while he mulls it over and you continue searching. You faintly comprehend the sound of him shuffling and moving around behind you, but you pay it no mind until a pair of big hands find their way on your small frame. Lo’ak’s lips brush lightly over the back of your neck and it almost tickles when he speaks.

“I think I’m in the mood for something sexy” he presses kisses onto your neck and shoulder.

“You are so corny” you say with a laugh, but you still lean into his touch anyway.

“Just put on whatever. I’d rather watch you anyway.” His low voice in your ear makes your nerves come alive with this intense fluttering all over your body. His impatience is rubbing off on you so you hurriedly throw whatever you can reach into the player without really bothering to look at what it is. Once the movie starts playing, you turn around to face Lo’ak and he immediately swipes you up off the floor and your legs lock around his waist while he presses his lips to yours. Holding onto him like this gives you the perfect feel of his cock straining against his tewng and poking you right between your legs. Clearly, he can feel it too from how his hands hold your hips and grind you down against him. Every move brushes against your covered clit and gives you small tingles of satisfaction, but it’s not enough. He’s got you so riled up now that you decide to have a little more fun and push his limits. On any given day, Lo’ak could, and would, fuck you until your body felt like jelly. But on occasion, he would lose himself and by the end, even your brain would feel numb and fuzzy filled with nothing but him possessing you completely. That’s exactly what you need right now.

Without warning, you unfold your legs from around him and let go completely dropping to your feet on the ground. His puzzled expression is nothing short of adorable.

“Shit, I just remembered that I have a report to finish” you say walking over to your computer desk and sitting down.

“Babe, you have got to be kidding me right now.” You were never one to deny Lo’ak what he asked for. Ever. Not even when you would join the clan for communal dinner and he would pull you off into the dark out of view of everyone else.

“It’s only going to take a few minutes, Lo.” You say sitting down and pulling your hair forward and exposing your neck. Lo’ak groans behind you. You know how much he loves when you present your neck for him to mark. He’s starting to catch on to your little game. If he wants it, he’s going to have to take it.

“If it’s only going to take a couple minutes, then do it after” he says pulling your chair away from your desk and over to the bed. He spins you around to face him and heat settles between your thighs at the way he’s eyeing you right now. “I need you, mamas.”

“You’re doing a whole lot of talking and yet, I’m still fully clothed” you say with a sly smirk.

He chuckles lowly to himself, “oh, you are asking for it.” In one swift motion, Lo’ak pulls you onto his lap by your waist. Your hands brace against his chest to keep yourself from flying forward. His face settles in the crook of your neck and he nips lightly at your skin making you jump.

“Now, am I going to have to rip these cute little shorts off of you or are you gonna behave and take them off yourself?”

“Don’t…I like these ones.” You whine.

“Then get rid of them. Right now.”

You shift yourself around so that you can maneuver out of your shorts while he pulls his tewng to the side to expose his thick, hard cock that was already leaking precum from the tip.

“Already so hard, love. Is that for m—”

“Don’t try to get cute with me” Lo’ak cuts you off by grabbing you by your waist and slamming you down onto his dick in one quick snap.

It feels like an electric shock is shot up your spine and goes straight to your head being immediately filled to the brim. He gives you no time to adjust before he’s fully lifting your body by your waist up and down on his cock.

“Ah! Fu-ck! Lo-ak!” Your words and breaths are broken from how he’s making you bounce on top of him.  

“Shit, your pussy is so fuckin perfect” he says through gritted teeth.

His big hands on your smaller frame completely take control of your movements and you have no choice but to let him have his way with you. His dick continues to bully its way into your tight cunt and kiss your cervix making your toes curl.

“Oh fuck, you’re gonna make me cum inside of you, mama. You want that, hm? Want me to fill you up?” his voice is lighthearted, but you can tell from the look in his eyes and his laser focus on you how close he really is and how badly he wants to give you everything.

“Yes, yes, yes, please Lo’ak!” your vision is already starting to spot as you near your own high while he keeps using you as his own personal fuck toy.

“Hng, shit!” he bucks his hips up to match the way he’s moving your body for you a few more times before the heat of his cum starts to fill you from the inside out. It sends you over the edge into your own orgasm and your pussy clamps down on him even tighter if that was even possible. Lo’ak sucks in a sharp breath feeling how tight you are around him and his forehead falls forward onto your chest waiting for you to stop milking him for all he’s worth.

His hands finally let go of your waist and they fall to sit on top of your thighs while you both try to catch your breath.

Suddenly the TV booms from across the room, “I am Bruce Almighty! My will be done!” making both of you snap your head in its direction.

“What the fuck movie did you put on?” Lo’ak laughs breathlessly.

“I have no fucking clue and I kind of don’t really care” you laugh equally out of breath. “But it looks like we still have some time before it’s over…” you lightly suggest.

He already knows what’s on your mind and a devilish smirk crosses his face.