#trust me when i say i gasp whenever i see that card

[sheepthatgobaa]

Levi brainrot don't stop even after the event

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Another version cuz I like em both:

[berryhobii]

OMG HI😭😭i love your writing so much like im obsessed you’re so talented!!! i see your request are open and i just wanted to see if you do something where it’s after Yoongi and Y/N get into petty argument and Y/N is like “you know what? whatever” and gives Yoongi the silent treatment however, Yoongi hates being ignored (especially by his girl) so after giving her some space for a few hours and trying to get her to talk to him, he’s had enough oh the silence and decides to take matters into his own hands 🫣 I HOPE THIS MADE SENSE😭😭😭this thought has been running rampant in my mind for a week and i would love to see how you would write this ! there’s no rush, take your time if you don’t feel like it that’s TOTALLY okay i just want you to know that you’re writing is IMMACULATE, chefs mf kiss 🤌🏾 and that’s you are so freaking talented!! thank you for sharing your writing with us🥰🥰💕

Ahhhhhh! I love you so much! Your requests have given me such good ideas! I hope I fulfilled this one well. It turned into kind of brat tamer Yoongi who loves reader to pieces because I love everything about that trope. I really hope you love it bb!🩵🩵🩵

~

“Turn left up here!”

“I know where I’m going!”

“Obviously not! The parking lot will be full by the time we get there.”

Currently, you and your husband were on the way to your favorite store to spend some more of the gift cards you got at your wedding. You received so many and Yoongi made you agree that you’d only use them for important things.

New stuff for Holly counted as important, right? Of course it did.

A few months ago, you two moved to a new neighborhood which meant you didn’t really know where everything was.

As designated passenger princess, it was your responsibility to look hot, control the music and also manage the GPS to get you places but Yoongi wanted to trust his car’s GPS more than you. Ridiculous right?

He sighed. “I know where I’m going, okay? I don’t need your help.”

Your mouth dropped, a scandalized and dramatic gasp passing your glossed lips. How dare he?!

Crossing your arms over your chest, you slumped in the passenger seat. “You know what? Whatever, Yoongi.” You mumbled.

Silence enveloped the car, only the low sound of J.Cole’s melodic voice filling the space.

Yoongi glanced over at you, a smile threatening his lips at your pouty face. Ugh, you were such a spoiled little brat but he loved you so much. He actually took pleasure in riling you up and watching you get all huffy. Everytime he saw that princess personality, it awakened something in him—a need to both smother you with kisses and spank your ass until you were crying.

He reached over to place a large hand on your thigh. “Come on baby. Don’t be upset.”

You ignored him, fully turning your body towards the window. Uh oh, your full super bratty mode was activated.

“Are you really gonna ignore me?” He pondered.

No answer.

“Baby please. I’m sorry.”

Nothing.

He guessed he’d have to roll with this.

When Yoongi pulled into the parking lot of your favorite store, he tried to talk to you again but you were already out of the car.

Unfortunately, whenever you were upset with Yoongi, you got a sudden stroke of independence. He normally opened your door for you so he knew you were really upset when you did it yourself.

You didn’t talk to him the entire time through the store but you almost broke when you passed the pillows.

“Look baby. They have those pillows you were looking at.”

You picked one up before turning to Yoongi, opening your mouth to say, “yeah they…..” but you cut yourself off, remembering your vow of silence. He raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to speak but you held it. Tossing the pillows into the cart, you continued through the store, hands hurting from how hard you gripped the handles.

You couldn’t fight that skip in your heart. He remembered the pillows…..you told him about those weeks ago…..fuck.

You didn’t even notice Yoongi’s sly smirk as he walked behind you. He knew this silent treatment wouldn’t last long and he was honestly kind of amused. He knew you wanted to talk to him but your pride wouldn’t allow you to break first, not until you felt like it. He guessed he’d have to put up with your silent treatment a little longer.

Besides, with you walking ahead of him, he could stare at your perfect ass in those stretch pants all he wanted. His hand itched to grab it but he resisted. He didn’t want to make you more upset…..on purpose.

Yoongi ended up having to practically fight you with the bags, insisting he’ll put them back in the cart and push them to the car. You weren’t happy but you also didn’t argue, huffing and puffing your way back to the car.

Yoongi didn’t unlock the doors until he was finished putting the bags in the trunk which was getting you even more riled up. He knew you wanted to open your own door but doing it for you was just more amusing.

You squinted your eyes at him in frustration, throat burning with the desire to tell him off but you got in the car anyway, still completely silent.

The drive home was silent, as was the short journey up to your apartment. Holly greeted you both at the door, the wiggly dog jumping all over you. You didn’t even try to go through the bags, just heading straight for your bedroom where you could ignore Yoongi better. And of course, Holly followed you, not sparing Yoongi a passing glance.

Traitor, Yoongi thought.

He sighed but left you alone. He knew you weren’t that upset about what he said in the car. You were just being stubborn. He spoiled you too much. He could also be kind of passive(he’s working on it) as well so perhaps this was proving to be a little test for him.

After putting away the few grocery items and leaving the rest of your choices for you to sort through, he flopped down on the couch.

It was quiet.

Too quiet.

He liked his peace and quiet as much as the next person but the noise you brought was different. He had grown used to hearing you singing under your breath or talking to yourself as you thought about dinner or the crash of all of your hair products falling because you had so many and they didn’t fit right in the hallway closet.

You had ingrained yourself into his life—you and your own perfect little storm of gentle chaos.

He missed you. Even though you were in the next room. He missed you.

Standing from the couch, he walked down the hall to the bedroom. He couldn’t hear anything on the other side.

His knuckles rapped gently against the wood before he opened he door. “Baby?”

He found you laid on your back on the bed, phone held over your face as you scrolled through social media. Holly was resting on his dog bed in the corner, little head lifting as Yoongi entered.

“Go.” He motioned to the door. Holly tilted his head in a way that solidified Yoongi’s suspicion that his dog was secretly a human. Human or not, Holly knew better than to stick around.

Yoongi closed the door before focusing his attention back on you.

He approached the bed, leaning a knee on it. You could feel the dip but made no move to acknowledge him.

“Baby please. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean what I said. Of course I need you. I love when you tell me where to go but then you get distracted so we miss the turn. Remember we were late to our rehearsal dinner?”

Your lip twitched at the memory. Of course you do. The excitement of your wedding being the next day had you so caught up in your then fiancé that you couldn’t even focus on giving directions. And thanks to Yoongi being equally distracted by how stunning you were, he didn’t even think to make sure you stayed focused enough to give directions. He missed the exit twice before finally getting on track. Nevertheless, it was still a memorable evening with his family and close friends.

And the precursor to the rest of a wonderful life with you.

You still continued to ignore him. You could hear the sincerity in his apology but you wanted to make him sweat just a little bit longer.

But even Yoongi had a breaking point and you were crossing it.

“Baby.”

No answer.

Alright. Breaking point crossed.

~

“Why do you have to make everything so difficult? Ignoring me, “he scoffed with a shake of his head and landing a sharp smack to your ass. “You’re crazy.”

Your head was buried in the blankets, shoulders pressed against the bed and wrists held tightly in Yoongi’s grip.

His hips were slamming into your ass hard enough to hurt, his thick cock stretching your walls to their limit. He was thick enough to give you that slightly searing stretch and long enough to make you feel it all the way to your deepest parts.

“Mm, Yoongi!” You cry out as his strokes became longer, pulling himself all the way out to the tip remained before slamming back inside. He grits his teeth at your walls sucking him in as if they didn’t want him to go. Thank goodness for his stamina. After meeting you, he’s had to learn how restrain himself longer than ever. He never used to cum quick before meeting you. And yes, that was one of the many reasons he pursued you. “F-fuck….you feel so good.”

You arched your back more, lifting your ass so that he could reach even deeper.

“Don’t ignore me again. Do you understand?” He landed another slap on your bouncing ass, loving the recoil.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, face feeling hot from your breath that kept blowing back from how your face was pressed into the mattress.

Everything felt too tight, too hot, too sweaty, too good.

“Yes! I’m sorry!” You cried.

Releasing your wrists, he grabbed at your braids, twisting them around his wrist a few times. Waist length were definitely a smart investment.

He pulled you up until you were “balanced” on your hands because let’s face it, those things were numb as hell. His hold on your hair was really the only thing keeping you upright.

“Sorry for what? Apologize properly.”

He wanted you to form full sentences? That was like asking Jada to stop talking about Tupac. Impossible.

Another stroke knocked your speech centers loose, third orgasm since you started bubbling in your lower belly.

Yoongi could feel your walls clenching up, your moans growing louder at each thrust. Oh no you don’t.

He stopped his hips, still buried deep in your cunt. You whined as your orgasm ebbed away, wiggling your hips in an attempt to throw yourself back on his cock but a hand on your hip made you still.

“You’re not cumming until you apologize properly. Now, what aren’t you gonna do again?”

You swallowed, lip quivering and tears welling up. “I…I won’t ignore you again.”

He grinned. “Apology accepted.”

His hips set a punishing pace, your ass ricocheting off his hips. It had you moaning in ecstasy, nearly slipping from his grasp but he wrapped an arm under your breasts to keep you steady.

“Shit, I love this pussy. So. Fucking. Good.” Each word was punctuated with a thrust.

Your hand reached back to claw at his side, the slight sting making him groan and thus pushing him faster.

He yanked your hair until your back was pressed flush against his chest, his hips never slowing down. Almost instantly, you turned your head, seeking his lips as you always did when you were close. His heart fluttered, loving how affectionate you were.

You almost miss his lips from how absolutely feral he was going in your poor cunt. Fortunately, he tilts your head better with his grip on your hair, kissing your wet pout. The tenderness has your heart swooning despite all the chaos. He sucks at your tongue, leaving a light bite on your bottom lip as well.

“Gonna cum, my sweet girl?” He whispers in your ear, nipping at the skin.

You didn’t need to answer him, you’re growing moans enough to confirm. The hand that wasn’t scratching at his skin raises up to bury in his hair, yanking his strands similar to how he was doing you causing him to grunt in delight.

The arm around your body moved down to rub circles into your clit and you swore you saw the upper room. He buried his face in the side of your neck, inhaling your sweaty skin, lips leaving kisses and bites along the side of your throat.

His hips move even faster than before, desperate to carry you to your orgasm before he lost his shit. Pent up from that brief denial and riddled from your previous orgasms, you’re quick to crumble against him. Twisting in his hold, you cry out his name that’s like music to his ears.

“Yoongiiiiiiiiii! Cum in me, baby. Want you so bad….”

Your walls grip him tighter than a vice, his hips stuttering with careless abandon as he gives you exactly what you want. The sensitivity between your thighs burns in the best ways, little gasps coming from you another tiny orgasm washes over you.

“Ugh, fuck.” The last few sluggish ruts of his hips make both of you whine and gasp, his grip on you tightening and then loosening as his body shudders.

Your body falls forward on the mattress, muscles and bones weary and your eyes drooping as exhaustion weighs on them. You feel Yoongi flop down next to you, only the sound of his slightly hurried breaths filling the room.

“Not falling asleep on me, are ya?” He asks after a few seconds. He turns his head to find you are, in fact, beginning to doze off.

“No.” You fib, rolling your achy body over and holding up one arm. “Come kiss me.”

His smile is as sweet as him. He scoots over to bury himself in your warmth. Your arm wraps around him as his head lifts to give you your requested kisses.

“I love you.” You confess against his lips.

He hums. “Love you too. Even though you’re bad at giving directions.”

You roll your eyes but continued to peck at his lips. “Marry your GPS then.”

“I already have.” He hugs you closer. “And I wouldn’t give her up for anything.”

[mama-qwerty]

What’s Right In Front Of You

Hey, look! I wrote something!

This is for @doomfox because who else loves Wade/Callie stuff as much as me?

I came at this one a little differently. Wade’s a Dark, but he and Callie weren’t dating, just friends, when he turned. This here is where they realize they ~gasp~ may see each other as more than friends!

I hope it turned out okay, I’m a bit rusty.

~~~~~

On a beautiful summer Saturday, all of Green Hills turned out for a fundraising event thrown by the public library. Callie, the head librarian, had organized the event, specifically to collect funds for the local food bank. She knew a number of families had been hit hard with the recent economic downturn, and wanted to pull the town together to offer help.

Main Street was closed, and the businesses along it ran booths on the street, offering samples, raffles, and games in return for donations. The Wachowski family manned the veterinary and police booths, while Callie and her boys covered the library’s. At the moment, the MacPherson and Wachowski kids were all off, moving up and down the street as they visited and sampled the various offerings, with the exception of Knuckles. He stayed behind to help his mother.

The booths were all in a line together, leaving the matriarchs of each clan to chat.

“So,” Maddie said, a little smile curling her lips. “I hear Wade’s a pretty frequent visitor to your house these days. Is there a little something-something going on between you two I should know about?”

Callie rolled her eyes, uttering a little laugh. “I know it sounds really cliché, but we’re just good friends. That didn’t change after he did. He’s still got a standing invitation to swing by whenever he likes, for supper or just to hang out. Honestly, I was worried he’d be mad after Eclipse turned him into a Dark, but he seems okay with it. Which is good, because Hallmark doesn’t exactly make ‘Sorry my kid transformed you into a giant space gremlin’ apology cards.”

The vet gave a little laugh, shaking her head. “I don’t know, Cal. Seems like there could be more to it than ‘just friends’.”

It was the librarian’s turn to shake her head. “There’s not. Trust me. He doesn’t see me that way.”

Maddie sidled up and gave her a little side-eye. “Do you see him that way?”

Callie cocked an eyebrow. “Okay, is this a ‘pair the spares’ type of thing?” She said it with a little snark, although the line of questioning was starting to bother her. “Just because Wade and I are both single and friends, that automatically means we’ve gotta become an item?”

“Hey, I didn’t mean anything by it,” Maddie said, lifting her hands in a gesture of surrender. “I’m just saying that you two seem to have gotten close, even moreso after he changed, and was just wondering if you were--”

“We’re not,” the redhead said, her voice a little harder than she intended. She took a little breath before continuing, softening her tone to a more apologetic one. “We’re just friends.”

Maddie nodded. “Okay. Fair enough.”

The vet turned to greet a visitor to her booth, and Callie gave a sigh. Truth be told, she had been having the same type of thoughts. Wade had been stopping by a lot more frequently lately, and it wasn’t unusual for him to stick around and watch a movie after her boys had gone to bed. She didn’t pick up on anything more to it than simply two friends enjoying their time together. He hadn’t exactly made any ‘moves’ on her, or even dropped any hints that he’d like to take things to the next level, as the rom-coms would say. As far as she knew, he simply enjoyed spending time with her. As a friend. Nothing more.

Of course, she didn’t exactly have a lot of experience with romance and relationships. But she was fairly sure she’d have noticed if he was flirting with her.

Fairly sure.

Then again, this was Wade. The man’s photo was practically in the dictionary under the word “anxiety”. That hadn’t changed since he became a Dark, although he did seem a tad more confident now that he’d fully adjusted to his new life. He was taller, stronger, and more toned than he had been as a human. He actually seemed . . . happier, in his new form.

Callie looked around, craning her neck to find him in the crowd. He wasn’t hard to spot, with his dark scales, gold-on-black eyes, and long, barbed tail. He wasn’t as comfortable going au naturale like Eclipse was, and usually wore a pair of cargo shorts—slightly modified to fit his tail—and one of those horrendous Hawaiian shirts he’d become so fond of. He may have been a Dark, a member of the Black Arms warrior race, but he somehow still looked like the Wade she knew before. Impeccable fashion sense and all.

She spotted him at the ABC Daycare booth, playing with the kids and chatting with their parents. As she watched, her own child, Eclipse—the very same young darkling who had changed Wade into one of his kind to save his life—pounced onto the larger Dark’s shoulders with a laugh. Wade gave him a grin, and noogied the boy’s forehead.

A small smile curled the redhead’s lips.

“You never answered Mother’s question,” a deep voice said, and Callie gave a little gasp at the startle. She looked down and found Knuckles staring at her, his brow furrowed slightly.

“I’m gonna put a bell on you, I swear to God,” she said, giving the boy a light flick on the forehead with her finger. “What question?”

“She asked if you saw Wade in ‘that way’,” he said, twisting his head to look down the street at the man in question. He turned back with an eyebrow raised. “Do you?”

“Hadn’t really thought about it,” she said with a shrug, turning to pass out a few bottles of water to passersby.

“Think about it now.”

Callie turned and planted a hand on her hip as she leaned against the table. “Ya know, I would have pegged Sonic as the little matchmaker of the Wachowski boys. Why the sudden interest in my love life, Knux?”

“Because you are old and in need of a life partner who can care for you as you age.”

She couldn’t help but let out a snort of laughter at that. Knuckles the Echidna, ever the tactful soul. “Thanks, Knux. I can always count on you to put things into perspective.”

The teen paused, casting his eyes to the side for a second as he thought before turning back. “Perhaps that did not come out as I meant it. You are . . . important to us. To me. I do not wish to see you all alone. And even though I think there are better prospects for you, Wade is honorable and true. He would make a fine mate.”

She threw him a cocked eyebrow. “Better prospects? I wasn’t aware my relationship status was so important to you.”

He nodded. “My brothers and I have all discussed the best matches for you.”

“Okay, I officially don’t want to know who you three picked out,” she said, shaking her head. The idea that the Wachowski boys had all spent time discussing the ‘best match’ for her romantically made her feel a bit weird. “Can we stop talking about this now?”

“You still haven’t answered the question.”

“Honey, she doesn’t have to answer the question if she doesn’t want to,” Maddie said, swooping in to save the flustered redhead. “This really isn’t any of our business.”

“But you asked,” Knuckles said, tilting his head in his confusion. “How else would we know if they are compatible for courting?”

“That’s between them. If they like each other, and if they choose to pursue a relationship, that’s their choice. They decide how fast or slow to take things.”

The echidna curled his muzzle in annoyance. “How inefficient. My people would not be so . . . indecisive in their courting.”

“How do echidna court?” Callie asked, crossing her arms before her. “If you don’t mind my asking.”

“They challenge each other to battle, issuing strong cries and postures to try and intimidate the other. The longer this goes on, the better match they are said to be for each other.”

The two women looked at him with wide eyes.

“Are you serious?” the librarian said, her voice soft.

“No. I was six when my tribe fell. How am I to know how my kind courts?”

The women exchanged a glance, before Callie pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a sigh.

“Hello my fair ladies,” a voice called, and the trio turned to see Tom approach the booths. He was doing his sheriffly duty by wandering up and down the street, meeting and greeting townsfolk and making sure everything was running smoothly. He glanced down and tipped a wink to Knuckles. “And my oldest son. How’s everything going?”

Before either woman could answer, Knuckles spoke up. “Father, you are the law of this town. You must demand that Callie answer the question.”

The sheriff tossed his wife a raised eyebrow. “Uh, what?”

“Nevermind,” Maddie said, waving a dismissive hand. “He’s very much ‘dog with a bone’ right now.”

Knuckles turned to her, his muzzle pulled in a little snarl. “I am not a dog, and there is no bone! But there is a question that must be answered if we are to find Callie a suitable life mate!”

The redhead in question tilted her head back and uttered a frustrated grunt. “Oh my gawd, Knux, let it go!”

Tom flicked his eyes between the trio, and gave them a questioning glance. “Dare I ask?”

Maddie uttered a soft sigh. “We’ve been trying to ascertain whether or not Callie likes Wade ‘like that’.”

“She refuses to answer!” Knuckles cried, pointing at Callie. He’d apparently reached the end of his patience. “Tell her she must answer, Father! Right now!”

“Okay, okay,” Tom said, holding his hands up in a calming gesture. “Take a breath before you start sparking, big guy.” Knuckles did as instructed, and when he calmed, the sheriff continued. “Now, we can’t force her to tell if she doesn’t want to. That’s private and personal, and entirely her business, right?”

The echidna let out a huff through his nose, before turning away with a scowl. “Yes.”

“Okay then,” the sheriff said, snagging a water bottle from Callie. “Although, if you do, you know, ‘like him’, you maybe oughta think about making a move. ‘Cause you may have a little competition.”

Callie furrowed her brow. “What are you talking about?”

Tom tilted his head toward Wade, who was still down the street. Eclipse had moved on, but the Dark was now speaking with a very pretty woman who was very obviously flirting with him.

“Who’s that?”

“Kelly Stevens,” Tom said before taking a swig of water. “Wade’s had a crush on her since about third grade. Looks like he’s caught her eye. Dude’s getting more attention now than he ever did as a human.”

The furrow in Callie’s brow deepened. That certainly seemed to be the case. Whenever the two of them went out and about together, she’d noticed other women taking more interest in Wade. He seemed oblivious at the time, but now it looked as if he had finally noticed. He chatted back with Kelly, and Callie noticed how his muzzle darkened in a blush.

Then he paused and turned toward her, and their eyes locked.

Callie’s face burned as a blush of her own surfaced, and she jerked her eyes away. Her heart hammered in her chest.

Oh. Oh no. OH NO.

“L-looks like I’m running low on water, be right back!” she blurted out, and shot away from the booth to duck into the library.

It was cooler in here, and quieter. Callie moved to the front desk, slumping behind it into her chair and rubbed her temples with shaky fingers.

“Get a grip get a grip get a grip!” she hissed to herself. She wasn’t some schoolgirl developing a crush on her best friend. She was a grown adult, who loved her best friend, but was not IN LOVE with him.

Right?

Right??

~X~X~X~

Wade walked through the street, a faint smile on his lips. The sun felt so nice on his scales, and he turned his face up to catch it on his cheeks. Well, muzzle. It’d been about six months since he changed into a Dark, and in that time he’d gone through the stages of grief to finally land on ‘acceptance’.

This was who he was now. It’d been hard at first, but his true friends had stood by him to lift him up when he felt at his lowest. Tom and Maddie. Their boys. Callie, and her boys. Even when his own mother seemed to want nothing to do with him, his friends stood behind him.

His smile grew as he thought about Callie. It was strange—even though Eclipse had done this to him, he’d never felt any anger toward the boy. Wade practically had one foot in the grave, and the darkling had saved him. Changed him, yes, but Wade was still alive thanks to that boy. And maybe it had taken a little while to understand just how amazing that was, but Callie never once faltered in her support of him. Not. Once.

In fact, they seemed to be better friends than ever now. He stopped by her house almost daily, and their friendship seemed stronger than ever. They were practically inseparable. She was his absolute best friend in the world.

Best friend.

Yep.

Nothing more.

. . . right?

His smile faltered slightly at this thought. He seemed to think about her . . . an awful lot lately. Like, A LOT a lot. And it seemed that no matter how much time they spent together, it wasn’t enough. They didn’t even have to be doing anything specific—just sitting together quietly as they read or watched the boys play was fun. And his anxiety flared a lot less when she was close. She felt . . . safe.

A few people called out to him then, and he broke from his thoughts to wander over and visit. His tail swished lazily behind him, and a few kids gave it a playful tug as he chatted with their parents. Wade turned and gave them an exaggerated growl, playing the part of a scary monster, and the kids gave a playful scream and scrambled. Their light giggles gave away their true feelings, though, and soon they were back, examining his clawed hands and playing with his tail.

Life was actually good for Wade Whipple 2.0. He felt good. It was kind of ironic that people accepted Dark Wade a lot easier than they accepted Human Wade. And maybe a little sad. But it was something he tried not to dwell on.

“Gotcha!” a voice called, and Wade felt a thud as Eclipse launched himself to land on the Dark’s shoulders. “You coming over for supper tonight?”

“Depends,” Wade said with a grin, delivering a noogie to the boy’s head. “What’s your mom making?”

“She says if we don’t make ourselves sick with junk food today we’ll order pizza,” the darkling said, shoving Wade’s knuckles away. “But I think she’ll order pizza anyway, so I’m trying everything.”

Wade gave a laugh as he pulled Eclipse off his shoulder and tucked him under his arm. “You’re a little snot, you know that?”

The boy laughed, struggling weakly against his captor. “I’m telling Mom you said that! She’ll be mad at you!”

“I doubt it. She called you a snot the other day.”

“Term of endearment!”

“Yeah, yeah.” Wade dropped the boy to the ground, giving him one more noogie as he did so. “Why don’t you go find your brother? You wouldn’t want him, Sonic, and Tails to get into trouble without you.”

Eclipse gave a little gasp. “They wouldn’t!”

And without another word, the boy hurried off to find his friends. Wade uttered a little laugh as he shook his head.

“You’re really good with kids,” a voice called, and Wade turned quickly to find a very pretty woman smiling at him. It took a few seconds to recognize her, and he gasped.

“Kelly??”

She smiled, revealing a line of perfect, white teeth. “Hi Wade. I’ve been looking for you.”

Wade gave her a crooked smile. “Uh . . . here I am, I guess? Why were you looking for me, exactly?”

She moved closer, pushing her chest forward in what seemed to be a well-rehearsed movement. “You’ve become quite the talk of the town lately.” She flicked her head, sending her long, blonde hair over her shoulder. “And there’s just something about a confident man that I find . . . interesting.”

“. . . oh?” Wade’s brain was officially screeching to a halt. Kelly Stevens had never spoken more than a few words to him in all the time he’d known her, so this little conversation was unexpected to say the least. His tail flicked in little jerks behind him in his growing anxiety.

“Mhmm,” she said, moving closer. “In fact, I think I’d like to get to know you a little better. Would you like that?”

Wade’s muzzle turned darker as a blush rose, and he stared at her with wide eyes. The third grader within him, who had been absolutely smitten with Kelly, rejoiced and did cartwheels in his mind.

But there was something else. A little tug of his instincts. He was being watched. Turning his head, he picked Callie out of the crowd immediately, and their eyes locked. He saw a blush surface on her cheeks, before she turned away quickly.

His heart beat a manic pace in his chest, and he watched as she hurried off into the library.

Kelly was forgotten, the third grader within him quiet. There was something he needed to do.

“I have to go,” he mumbled to Kelly, before weaving his way through the crowd and toward the library.

~X~X~X~

Callie took a few deep breaths, trying to rein in her racing heart.

Okay. She could deal with this. She wasn’t really in love with Wade. It was just the conversation she’d had out front that put her in this really, really weird mindset. She was . . . glad Wade was getting more attention. He was lonely, and seemed unlucky in love, and now he was getting the attention he wanted. Yay, right? Good for him.

Still. What if--

Her thought was cut off as the doors swished open, and she turned quickly. Wade stood in the entrance, looking at her with . . . concern?

“Cal?” he said, his voice soft. “You okay?”

She stared at him for a long moment, before she pulled up some snark. “Yeah, why wouldn’t I be? I just came in to grab some more water for the booth.” There was a stack of a few cases of water bottles in front of the desk, and now she moved around to grab one. She hefted it up and placed it on the counter. “See? Just . . . restocking. That’s all.”

He stood there for another moment, before moving closer. “Yeah. I getcha.” Gold eyes flicked to the side before moving back to hers. “So . . . how’s it going?”

“Good,” she answered, a little too quickly. “Good. Good turnout. Think we’re gonna meet our goal and then some, so that’s . . . good.” Her lips pulled into a thin line. “So . . . you seem popular today.”

A clawed hand went to the back of his neck. “Y-yeah.”

An awkward silence settled over them. “She’s really pretty.”

The blush was back on his muzzle. He didn’t respond for a long moment, and when he did, his voice was soft. “I guess.” His mouth twisted, and brow furrowed. “Listen, Cal, I--”

“Wade?”

They both turned to the doors, where Kelly now stood. She gave Wade a little smile, before turning her gaze to Callie. A quick flick of her eyes up and down the librarian, and Callie had an idea she was sizing her up as competition. With a barely-there smirk, Kelly seemed to judge her as not a threat.

And suddenly, Callie was transported back to high school. That awkward girl, never popular or accepted. Never anyone’s best friend. Shy, and alone. Overlooked, dismissed, and forgotten.

She pulled her braid around and gave it a tug.

~X~X~X~

Wade glanced at Callie when Kelly did, and missed the little smirk the blonde developed.

But he didn’t miss the way Callie seemed to shrink before his eyes. The way she pulled her braid around to tug, like she always did when she was feeling anxious. The way the redhead cast her eyes to the side, as if suddenly self-conscious.

“Wade?” Kelly called again, and drew his attention back to her. “Why’d you run off like that? I thought we were having a nice chat.”

Wade threw a glance at Callie, before turning back to the blonde. “I, uh, I was just making sure Callie was okay.”

Kelly flicked her eyes back to the redhead, before moving closer to Wade. “I’m sure she’s fine. But I’d like to continue our conversation somewhere a little less crowded. Like say, dinner?”

Conflicting emotions bloomed in Wade, and his heart tripped a manic pace in his chest. That small part that still carried a torch for Kelly cheered, while another part sounded a warning. For what, exactly, he wasn’t sure. “I’m probably going to Cal’s for dinner. Sorry.”

A look that seemed a combination of surprise and annoyance crossed Kelly’s face then, and she planted a hand on a cocked hip. “Oh, come on now, Wade. I know you’ve liked me for a long time. And I’d really like to get to know you better. So why don’t I make it simple? Look a me.”

She struck a pose that displayed her beauty. Her long, shiny blonde hair. Perfect complexion and teeth. Delicate features. Slim body with perfectly rounded hips. She was beautiful, she’d always been beautiful, even when they were in school. Wade couldn’t help but blush once again.

“Now,” she said, a smile that wasn’t quite a smirk on her lips. “Look at her.”

Wade did. He turned and looked at Callie, his heart beating faster.

No perfect hair, or skin, or teeth. No hourglass figure. Nothing that would put her on the front cover of one of those fashion magazines.

But she was kind. And sweet. And loving.

And she made him laugh, and feel safe. She spoke her mind, but did so with kindness. The epitome of “Do no harm, but take no bull.”

And when she smiled . . . when she smiled at him . . .

She was beautiful.

~X~X~X~

“Look at her.”

Callie flinched at the implication, giving her braid another tug, and flicked her eyes to lock with Wade’s. His face was unreadable, but she could almost hear what he was thinking.

Dry red hair that could be on the frizzy side if it was humid. Pale skin, with little sunburn patches because she keeps forgetting to reapply sunscreen. A little too much in the way of belly, and not quite enough in the chest or hips to balance it out.

Wade was a sweet man, but he wasn’t blind. Who in their right mind would turn away a beauty like Kelly for a blah like her?

“Who would you rather be with?” the blonde asked, drawing Wade’s attention back.

Callie took the break in eye contact to beat a hasty retreat. She dropped her eyes and turned to grab the case of water. Without a word or glance back, she hefted it up and carried it outside.

“There you are,” Maddie said, a little smile on her lips. “I thought you got lost . . .” The smile dropped once the vet got a good look at her. “What’s wrong?”

The librarian shook her head. “Nothing. Can you watch the booth? I need to get some more ice.”

“Sure . . . are you okay?”

Callie shrugged. “Low blood sugar, maybe. I’ll grab a bite before coming back. Thanks for keeping an eye on things.”

And without giving Maddie a chance to respond, Callie turned and hurried toward the gas station down the way. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears. She felt like the biggest fool on the planet.

~X~X~X~

“Who would you rather be with?”

Wade turned back to Kelly, a look of slight surprise on his face. He opened his mouth to respond—what, he wasn’t sure—when Callie suddenly turned, grabbed the water, and headed out the door.

He wanted to call out, go after her, but Kelly sidestepped to block his path.

“Looks like she made the choice easy for you,” she said, a little laugh in her voice. “So shall we go and find somewhere more private to chat?”

A spark of annoyance flared to life in Wade’s mind, and he furrowed his brow at Kelly. On the surface, this attention was flattering and nice. But there was something that poked at him. Something unsettling.

“Why didn’t you ever want to ‘chat’ with me before?” he asked, his tone soft but firm. “We’ve lived in this town forever, and you never wanted to get to know me when I was human. Why now?”

Kelly seemed to freeze for a split second, before recovering and giving a soft laugh. “Maybe I’ve finally come to my senses about you? Maybe it took me all this time to realize just how . . . special you are?”

She reached up to caress his muzzle, but he stepped back before she could make contact.

“Maybe,” he said as he moved around her. “Maybe I would rather be with someone who thought I was special before I changed, too.”

Without another word, Wade walked away, and pushed through the library doors.

~X~X~X~

Callie stepped into the gas station, her mind a whirl and heartbeat a fast samba. Distraction. She needed a distraction.

She slowly walked up and down the aisles looking at the wares without really seeing them. Snacks and cereal and medicine and tissues all blurred together as she moved through.

What was bothering her so much? Sure there was the old wound of the ignored high school girl, but there was something more than that. Her conversation with Maddie and Knuckles resurfaced, and she frowned. Did she see Wade ‘like that’? Was she . . . was she hurt? Jealous?

She’d been spending so much time focusing on whether he liked her, she didn’t give much consideration to whether or not she liked him.

And right now . . . it kind of scared her that she might.

Lost in thought, Callie rounded the corner to the next aisle and nearly ran into Knuckles. The boy stood stock still, looking up at her with his typical furrowed brow. She almost yelped in surprise, and leveled an annoyed eyebrow at him.

“Knuckles Wachowski, are you stalking me or something?”

“Mother asked me to help you carry the ice back,” he said, before lowering his head in a slight bow. “And . . . I would like to apologize.”

Her expression changed to one of confusion. “For what?”

“For invading your privacy regarding your feelings toward Wade.” His voice was soft, and he placed a hand to his chest. “It was not my place to demand answers. You do not need to find a mate if you do not wish to. I . . . I simply care for you and wish you happiness in life. Companionship. I am sorry for overstepping your boundaries.”

The confusion gave way to kindness, and Callie smiled. She tried not to play favorites with any of the boys, but if she were being honest, she really enjoyed Knuckles’ company. He was so different from the others, and saw the world in interesting ways. In many ways he was wiser than his years, and she enjoyed their conversations.

The echidna was the tallest of the batch of kids, and nearly came up to her shoulders. She tucked a knuckle under his chin, and lifted his head to meet his gaze with her own.

“Knux, I really appreciate the apology,” she said, her voice soft and gentle. “But don’t worry about it. I know your concern was coming from a place of love. I’m not offended. At all. We’re good.”

She held out a fist and he raised his to give it a light bump, a small smile on his lips.

“And it’s only natural to wonder. Wade and I do spend a lot of time together. From the outside observer, it would seem that we’re, you know, together.”

“So, you are not?”

Callie was quiet for a long moment as she considered this. “I didn’t think I wanted to be.”

“But now you are not sure.”

Another period of silence as she directed him toward the front register. “No. I’m not.” She paid for the ice and the two went outside to collect it. “To be honest . . . I don’t know what I think.”

Knuckles gave a hum as she handed him a bag of ice. “You care for Wade.”

“Yeah, I do.” She took the second bag of ice and the two began to walk back toward their booths.

“And he cares for you.”

Callie cocked an eyebrow as she looked down at him. “That wasn’t a question, was it?”

The boy shook his head. “He would not visit your home as often as he does if he did not care for you.”

She snorted out a laugh. “I do tend to feed him. That could be what’s drawing him back.”

The echidna snorted out his own laugh. “Food does tend to be a powerful motivator to some, but I doubt that is what he most looks forward to when he visits.”

They shared a little laugh at that, before quieting. Callie gave a long sigh, shaking her head. “Ah, I’m not good at this kinda stuff. Flirting requires a subtlety that I simply am not capable of. I’m more like a baseball bat upside the head.”

Knuckles hummed in amusement at that. “I have always appreciated your very straightforward manner. You always say what you mean, while so many others use their words to deceive.”

Callie pulled her lips tight. “Sometimes a deception isn’t meant to hurt others. Sometimes it’s to hide something that person doesn’t want to admit. To others, or themselves.”

He glanced up at her. “Because of pain.”

A nod. “Or fear.”

The echidna seemed to consider this. “You fear your feelings.”

She uttered a frustrated sigh. “I honestly don’t know. I care about Wade. A lot. He makes me laugh, he keeps me from freaking out, we can sit around for hours just talking about nothing in particular, and is really good with my kids. But . . . is that enough? I mean, is all that enough to, you know . . . love him?”

Knuckles was quiet for a long moment. “You think loving someone is measured in some sort of balance of actions? Like a . . . a checklist of sorts?”

Callie screwed her face up as she thought. “When you say it like that, it sounds really dumb.”

“The way you said it sounds really dumb.”

“Well, thanks so much.”

“Does he make you happy?” the teen asked, turning to lock her blue-green eyes with his violet. “Do you enjoy spending time with him?”

She stared at him for a few seconds, her mind spinning. Then her lips curled into a small smile. “Yeah. He does. And I do.”

Knuckles gave her a curt nod back, turning to look forward once more. “Then it is enough.”

They were getting close to their booths, and Callie cast a side-eye to him, a small smile on her lips.

This kid. This space echidna was the most dangerous warrior in the galaxy, with strength unmatched. He’d been on his own since he was six, was easily confused by common Earth phrases, and didn’t understand a lot of interpersonal interactions.

But he somehow always knew how to cut right to the heart of the matter when they chatted.

They walked the rest of the way in comfortable silence. Their booths came into view, and Callie’s smile faded when she saw a certain Dark in hers.

~X~X~X~

Not long after Maddie sent Knuckles to help Callie, Wade came out of the library, head on a swivel to find the redhead. When he didn’t see her, he walked up to Maddie for help.

“Have you seen Callie?”

Maddie gave a look to Wade and glanced down the street. “She headed down to the gas station for some ice. What’s wrong?”

Wade opened his mouth to answer, when Kelly walked out of the library. He froze, eyes wide and staring as the blonde gave him a sour look before walking away. Maddie looked between the two, and nodded as understanding bloomed on her face.

“Oh. I take it there was some kind of . . . incident inside?”

The Dark shook his head. “No. Maybe? I dunno, I’m not really sure what happened. Kelly said she wanted to get to know me and then Cal looked like she’d been punched and walked out and it made my stomach all twist up and I have no idea why this is bothering me so much.” By the end of his statement he was speaking fast, his tail moving in angry flicks. Maddie put her hands on Wade’s shoulders, and gave him a little shake. “Whoa, slow down. Are you and Kelly going to--”

“No.” The answer came immediately, with no hesitation. He didn’t even have to stop to consider it. “She’s pretty and all, but . . . I don’t think she wants to get to know me for, you know, me.”

“Okay,” the vet said, letting go of his shoulders to cross her arms. “Those are some good instincts. But do you think, maybe, there’s another reason you don’t want to be with her?”

His brow furrowed. “Like what?”

Maddie’s lips curled in a little smile. “Well, you said your stomach got all twisted when you saw Callie leave. Why do you think you reacted like that?”

“Because she’s my friend and I don’t want her to be upset.”

“Okay, fair. But, is she just your friend?”

Wade paused. “Best friend?”

“Wade.”

“What?? I don’t know what you mean.”

Maddie uttered a tired sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. “Wade, I want you to think about Cal. Think about how you feel when you’re around her. When it’s just you two.”

The Dark sighed, but did what she asked. His stomach still clenched at the memory of Callie leaving, especially with that hurt look on her face. He wasn’t completely sure why she looked hurt, but the image was burned into his mind all the same.

Now he tried to think of other times, when they laughed together, and chatted about nothing. When they watched movies after her boys had gone to bed, just the two of them, in the dark living room, sitting together on the couch. When they worked in her yard, or went to the park, or just sat near the pond, feeding the ducks.

When she smiled at him, and he felt like all the world blurred around them, and it was just him and her.

His stomach squeezed again, but a warmth spread into his chest. This wasn’t a feeling of guilt or sympathy. No, this was a different feeling. One of happiness. Of contentment.

Of . . . something more.

“. . . oh.”

His voice was soft, and his tail—that had been flicking in an agitated manner before—slowed to a gentle swing as a realization hit home. Maddie looked at him, a small smile on her lips.

“There it is.”

Wade stood still for a long moment, eyes wide and unfocused as his mind ground to a halt. It seemed so obvious now. These feelings. He felt quite stupid for not realizing them before.

As he pondered his apparent blindness to his own emotional state, Callie and Knuckles returned to the booths. The echidna hesitated for a moment, glancing over to the redhead with him, the smile that had been on her face fading when she saw the Dark.

“Hey,” Wade called, moving slightly closer.

“Hey,” she replied, pulling the ice bag before her almost like a shield. Her cheeks burned again, and she moved to her booth to dump the ice in the cooler beneath the table. “So . . . how’d things go with Kelly?”

He flinched at that, muzzle flushing. “F-fine.”

“Oh. How . . . how fine?” She wouldn’t look at him.

Wade moved a little closer. “Can we talk?”

Callie’s brow furrowed, and she turned to give him look, her lips pulled into a tight line. She flicked her eyes around them, at the crowds wandering past and specifically at Maddie and Knuckles, who tried to look like they weren’t watching nearby. She turned away and began shoving water bottles into the ice-filled cooler, her voice gaining an edge that told him she was shutting down emotionally. Or trying to, anyway.

“Kinda busy right now, Wade. And if you wanna talk about what I think you do, save your breath. I’m not your keeper. You can date her if you want. Makes no nevermind to me.”

She sounded angry. Hurt. Wade moved right next to her, his chest tightening as the seconds ticked by.

“Cal, just listen--”

“NO!” she hissed, rounding on him. A few passersby paused and threw glances their way, and Callie shot annoyed looks right back. The curious bystanders chose to move on, and she turned back to Wade. “We are NOT doing this. Not now, not here.”

He stared at her for a few seconds, before nodding. “Okay.”

Then he grabbed her arm, and teleported them away.

~X~X~X~

Knuckles and Maddie stood and watched the back-and-forth between the human and Dark, and uttered almost identical gasps when they vanished in a flash of light. After a few seconds, the echidna broke the silence.

“She is going to be pissed.”

Behind him, Maddie nodded. “Oh yeah.”

~X~X~X~

They reappeared in Callie’s living room, and the librarian uttered a grunt as she staggered on her feet. She hated teleporting. It disoriented her something fierce and did bad things to her stomach. When she knew it was going to happen she could steel herself for it, and make, well, ‘reentry’ not as jarring. But this wasn’t one of those times, and she took deep breaths to keep from throwing up all over her coffee table.

Wade hovered behind her, arms at the ready to catch her if she fell. She weakly slapped them away as she staggered to the kitchen for some water.

“What the hell is the matter with you?” she growled, yanking the fridge door open. “Why did you do that?”

“You said you didn’t want to talk there!” he said, following her and placing the kitchen island between them. “So I figured we’d go somewhere that was quiet and empty.”

Callie took a swig of water before giving him an annoyed look. “We could have gone into the library! It was quiet and empty!”

The Dark went quiet for a few seconds before pulling his shoulders up in embarrassment. “Oh. I didn’t think about that.”

The redhead rolled her eyes as she took another drink. “Look, we don’t really even need to talk at all. If you want to date someone with more Botox than brains, you go right ahead. You don’t need my permission.”

“That’s not—”

“I mean, I get it,” she continued, her mouth running away with her. Emotions swirled inside her, and she didn’t know if she was more angry or hurt right now. But between the two, anger was a lot easier to deal with. So she let her snark out. “You’ve liked her for a long time, and she’s really pretty with the hair and the face and the boobs. I get it. What’s not to like, right?”

“I guess? Callie, listen, I want to—“

“And now, suddenly, she’s interested in you. Woohoo! Dream come true for Wade Whipple. He’d be a fool to turn that down. I mean, why would he? It’s not like there’s anyone else, right?”

Wade pulled his lips tight, and his tail flicked so hard it made a soft ‘crack’ sound, like a whip.

That sound was enough to snap her out of her over-emotional ramble, and she stopped herself, guilt poking at her. This wasn’t fair. Just because she was hurt and jealous and feeling just a smidge pissed at herself for not realizing how she felt about Wade long ago didn’t mean she should take it out on him. It wasn’t his fault.

She didn’t want to ruin things for him. Because in the end, she wanted him to be happy.

Even if it wasn’t with her.

“I’m sorry.”

Wade blinked, a look of confusion crossing his face. “What?”

“I’m being a jerk. She’s pretty and likes you and you like her and that’s all that should matter. I shouldn’t be cranking at you over this. I’m . . .” She took a deep breath, and let it out in a shaky exhale. “I’m happy for you. Really.”

“Callie, you don’t have to—“

“I’ll explain to the boys why you’re not coming around as often,” she continued, walking around the counter, her brow furrowed. “They’ll be disappointed, especially Eclipse, but I’ll make sure they understand—“

“For crying out loud Cal, will you shut up and listen to me!” Wade all but growled as he grabbed her by the upper arms. “There’s nothing to explain, and you don’t have to be happy for me. You are the one who makes my stomach twist!”

Callie’s brows, already furrowed, pinched in confusion. “What??”

Wade flinched, releasing her and stepping back slightly. “That didn’t come out right. What I mean is, I feel like I might throw up when we’re together.”

She stared at him for a long moment. Wade wasn’t always great with expressing himself and often got words wrong, so she had become pretty good at interpreting his meaning. But right now, she was drawing a blank.

“Okay, are you trying to get me to slug you? Because, congrats, it’s kinda working.”

“No!” He pressed his fists against his temples, uttering a frustrated grunt before dropping them and looking at her with a helpless, almost pained expression. “I like you!”

She blinked, her face going slack. “. . . what?”

“I like you, Cal,” he said again, moving closer. The blush was back on his muzzle, and his voice shook with his heartbeat. His tail whipped and flicked behind him, in what Callie could read as either nerves, or excitement. “I mean, I really like you. You’re my best friend and the only person who’s ever treated me so nice. I love spending time together, I love your boys, I love how . . . how safe I feel when I’m with you.”

He moved closer as he spoke, and now stopped right in front of her.

“I lo—“ Wade pulled his lips tight again, and swallowed hard. “I love you.”

Callie’s brain stopped. There was no other way to describe the absolute lack of thought that went through it in that moment. She simply stood there, staring at the Dark before her, locking her blue-green eyes with his gold. His words rolled around in her head, and took a minute to fully sink in.

Loved her? He loved her?

Still, she stared. Unblinking. Unmoving.

~X~X~X~

Wade’s heart pounded so loud in his ears, he swore it would deafen him. He’d said it. The thing he’d finally admitted to himself only a few minutes ago was now out there, in the open. He had realized how he felt about Callie, and now she knew, too.

But she was just standing there, staring at him. He’d never seen her so lost for words. Had he made her uncomfortable? Was she trying to think of the right way to let him down? What if she were . . . repulsed by the idea of him, a non-human, feeling that way toward her?

His face fell as that thought sank in.

Oh.

Oh no.

That was it. He wasn’t human anymore, why would she want him? He’d put her in a really awkward situation by confessing his feelings for her, and now she was struggling with how to respond in a way that didn’t hurt him. Oh no, no, no. He was so stupid for just blurting that out. He should have talked to Tom or something, this was a bad idea, he shouldn’t have—

“I like you, too.”

At first, Wade didn’t hear her. Between his rampaging heartbeat and the negative thoughts spiraling in his head, he missed it. But the smile on her face was harder to miss. “What?”

The smile spread wider. “I said, I like you too.”

It was his turn to stare. “You . . . you do?” She nodded, that smile still on her lips, and a slight blush burning her cheeks. “Really?”

“Really, really.”

For another few seconds, Wade stood frozen, his face a mask of shock and disbelief. She . . . she liked him back?? He bit his forked tongue to make sure he wasn’t dreaming, and the pain that followed assured him he was quite awake.

“You like me . . . even though I’m . . . uh . . .” He flicked his eyes down at himself, giving his shoulders a shrug as he gestured to what he was.

Callie cocked an eyebrow at him. “Wade you should know by now I don't really give a fig what people think. Especially when it comes to family and those I love.”

That last word shot straight through his heart, and he gaped at her. “L-love?”

Her blush deepened, and she nodded, stepping closer. “Love.”

They locked eyes again, and after a few seconds Wade gave a little laugh as he wrapped his arms around her and spun her in a bear hug. “You love me, you love me!” He gave a little cheer right before pressing his lips against hers in an impromptu kiss.

When they broke apart, he gasped, placing her back on her feet as a look of concern passed over his face. “Ohmygawd I’m sorry I should’ve asked first I’m sorry I’m—“

That was as far as he got before Callie grabbed a handful of his horrendous Hawaiian shirt and pulled him to her to kiss him back. He froze in shock for a few seconds, before relaxing and returning the gesture. When they parted, she wore a soft smile.

“Rule number one; never ask for a kiss.”

A smile spread on his face, and he nodded. “Oh. Okay.” Then he moved in for another.

The two shared a quiet moment together, exchanging kisses and just enjoying their time as a new couple, when Callie’s cell chirped. She ignored it for another minute, but when it chirped again, she sighed, and pulled it from her back pocket. Flicking her thumb over the screen, she uttered another sigh.

“Maddie needs me back at the booth.”

Wade’s shoulders slumped as disappointment flooded his chest. “Oh.”

Callie replaced her phone, and took his hand into hers. “To be continued?”

He squeezed her hand, a smile on his face. “Absolutely.”

She held her breath and closed her eyes as Wade teleported them back.

~X~X~X~

In a heartbeat, the silence and isolation of her house was replaced with the noise and crowds of Main Street. Callie and Wade appeared in her booth, and found the rest of the boys returned, all crowded around Eclipse. The darkling lay on the ground, curled into the fetal position, moaning.

“What happened, as if I have to ask,” the redhead sighed, moving to pick up her younger child. Eclipse gave another moan and wrapped his arms around her neck, resting his head on her shoulder.

“I’m dying,” he croaked. “Make sure Silver doesn’t touch my stuff.”

“You’ll be dead, what’re you gonna do about it?” Callie said, patting his back gently.

“I’ll come back and haunt you. You’ll wish you were nicer to me.”

“Ah, you poor, poor, mistreated dear,” she cooed, swaying her body from side to side without thinking. “And what caused this tummy upset, I wonder? Could it be too much junk food?”

“I was the deep-fried Snickers that did it,” Sonic said, crossing his arms. “We told him to go easy, but he didn’t listen.”

“How many?”

“Three.”

“Holy crap, I’m surprised he’s not dead already,” she said with a little laugh, and Eclipse groaned against her neck. “Ya know kid, just because you can eat anything doesn’t mean you should.”

“Can’t talk. Dying.”

“Mhmm.”

“Want me to take him home?” Wade asked, a gentle hand on her shoulder. “I’ll take care of him while you finish up here.”

Callie caught the look Maddie and Knuckles exchanged at Wade’s touch, and she gave them a little smile and nod. The echidna returned both smile and nod, just as Eclipse retched, and a warm splash soaked her back.

The redhead stopped swaying, and leveled a look at Maddie, who grinned and shrugged. “The glamorous life of motherhood, am I right?”

Eclipse moaned in her ear. “I threw up.”

“Thanks for the heads up, kid,” Callie muttered, before turning back to Maddie. The vet smiled and shook her head.

“Don’t worry about Silver, I’ve got him. Go on and take care of things.”

“Thanks.”

Wade took her hand and gave the others a little wave before teleporting them back home.

~X~X~X~

Sonic turned and gave his mother and older brother a raised eyebrow. “Did they seem a little . . .”

“Yes,” Knuckles said, standing with a smug grin and arms crossed. “Callie and Wade now appear to be courting.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

The blue hedgehog pumped a fist in the air. “YES!” He turned to Tails, hand out. “You owe me five bucks.”

“Hey now,” the kit said, hands on hips. “He just put his hand on her shoulder! That’s not conclusive evidence. You can’t just--”

“Tails, sweetie,” Maddie said, ruffling her youngest’s bangs. “Trust me. Pay up.”

The boy uttered an annoyed grunt. “Ugh. Fine.”

~~~

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[kshira]

𝐜𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐞𝐬

+ oikawa, kenma, sakusa, suna, atsumu, kita, bokuto, hinata

tw. fem!reader, cursing, praise, virginity loss(just once) m!&f!masturbation, f!oral, creampie, dirty talk, soft dom w/ sub reader

an. hiya i’m back and i present this <3

꩜ 𝐎𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐖𝐀

+ “i think i love you more than fucking you”

sometimes things just happen—oikawa believes it’s just coincidence that he’d found someone to share his lifestyle with so perfectly. whenever he wanted to fuck, you were there—anything besides the circumstance just really didn’t phase him and at the end of the day, oikawa believed it was a casual relationship but he started to love more than fucking you in every room of his house, eating you out as you both struggled to watch a tv show or even when you wanted to blow him as he drove down a busy highway. oikawa started to live his life around you, he grew butterflies in his stomach when you were on your way to his house and even began blushing when you made a flirty remark—oikawa was falling into something he didn’t think he could get out of. “fuck toru, right there” your nails scrape against his back, feet locked on his muscled hips and god—your lips struggled to keep themselves on his own, oikawa pounded harder into you, searching for that spot that always had you cumming in seconds but as he pulled away to cup your cheeks, he knew he couldn’t do it, he had to say something. a nervous laugh vibrates through his chest and as you lock eyes, oikawa just simply smiles back, “i think i love you more than fucking you.”

oikawa regrets what he said but you didn’t seem to mind—maybe you didn’t hear him clearly, you obviously were still wanting more of him as you chanted his name like sweet honey melting your voice. he just assumed the words were left among the air and it’d stay like that, cradling the back of your head as he drove his cock harder inside you, pressing his lips into the crevice of your neck and whimpering when your walls clench harder around him. “i love you too toru” you whisper, combing your fingers through his brown locks, oikawa immediately shivers, straining his grip on your head and a blush staining his cheeks. “i love you so much, princess” oikawa replies, knowing he’s already about to cum and with your orgasm washing through you he just wishes this could last a little bit longer. but oikawa has time, feeling his seed leak from your hole when he finally cums, gasping out at how good it fucking feels. and oikawa regrets he didn’t tell you sooner, because fucking you feels great but fucking someone you love feels like his heart is burning and lips searching for you, never content unless you’re with him.

꩜ 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐌𝐀

+ “take my virginity”

kenma practically chokes on still air as you ask the question, strands falling from his messy bun as he pounds his fist against his chest, “you want me to take your virginity?” kenma repeats the question, using his lithe fingers to card through his hair as you nod slowly. “is that what you want?” your fingers feel kenma’s hand gently interlock with your own, gulping nervously before inhaling a sharp breath, “yes, i trust you.” his eyes widen, a small smile creeping through his lips, “i trust you too angel, i’ll try to make everything perfect.”

a bellowed whimper escapes your lips as kenma shifts between your legs, he leans up to wipe your juices from his chin. “are you ready or do you want me to make you cum again?” you feel the cockiness filter his words, chest heaving from the waves of pleasure kenma brought on his tongue. “come here” your arms open wide, watching the blonde crawl over you crashing his lips into your mouth, “see why i keep making you cum baby? you taste so good” kenma groans, hovering his cock at your slit, fisting the length while your legs wrap around his waist. “keep looking at me princess” kenma coos, cupping your cheek as he finally plunges his cock inside you, the burn singes through your body, wincing as kenma slowly pushes past the tight ring around his cock. he rocks his hips against you, bringing the other hand to hold your face within his grasps, nose rubbing along one another at the steady pumps inside you. “almost there, a-almost there” kenma whines, watching as his eyes hazily closing from how fucking tight you are, the juices of your pussy slathering his thighs. the pain finally subsides as kenma keeps his lips attached to your mouth, reeling his hips back to snap them right back into your tight hole. “so perfect” kenma whispers, sliding his thumb to place between your lips, “you’re so perfect angel, so fucking perfect for me.”

꩜ 𝐒𝐀𝐊𝐔𝐒𝐀

+ “stop asking, i’ll just show you”

“why are you asking me so many questions?” sakusa raises his eyes, onyx orbs glaring at you from his spot on the couch beside you. you shift uncomfortably in his gaze, placing your arms over your chest in defense, “i’m just curious” you murmur as sakusa begins inching closer to you until his face is inches away from your own. “is it because you want to know what it’s like to fuck me, princess?” sakusa brings his hand up to brush strands of hair behind your ear, leaning down to press his lips against yours, “stop asking so many questions, pretty” sakusa murmurs through your mouth, gently pushing you down on the couch as he crawls over you—sakusa lays his hand flat on your stomach, slowly guiding his fingers to the hem of your shorts. “i’ll just show you” his hot breath fans over your lips, gasping as you feel his rough pads dip between your folds, “you’re so sensitive, this won’t take long.”

sakusa strips off the final piece of his clothing and you really could cum right on the spot—body sculpted like a god, chiseled like priceless marble, skin glimmering under the dim lights and dark curls bouncing through his fingers as he cards through them, “like what you see?” sakusa smirks, bending down to stifle your answer with his lips as his cock finally plunges into your hole. “i kept playing with this messy pussy but you’re still so fucking tight” sakusa groans under his breath, teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he struggles to push past your walls sucking him in. your fingers wrap around his curls tugging him on your warm mouth while sakusa grips the back of your knees spreading your legs wider. sakusa pounds into your pussy with vigor, snapping his hips to drive his cock harder inside you. and you think he’s fucking you to impress, paying close attention to your puffy clit rolling between his fingers but as you watch him easily pull your orgasm to the surface—this is just how he fucks, uses your body for whatever he wants but places your pleasure above his own. lips memorizing your skin, tongue exploring every inch of flesh and fingers tracing along the shreds of sweat dripping off your body—sakusa leaves soft words fluttering from his lips making your cheeks burn from his absent affection and finally when your eyes meet—he softens, placing a gentle kiss against your lips. “can i make a mess inside this perfect pussy? dump all my cum inside you till i know you’ll always be mine?” sakusa cups your cheek, watching your lips tremble with eyes half clouded and he can’t even control the way his cock twitches with every beautiful feature crossed along your face—almost like it’s second nature with another stroke before he cums deep inside your hole. sakusa was just showing you all the answers you kept asking but now he’s left with questions of his own like why his stomach burns for more and chest aching if he even thinks about going without your touch.

꩜ 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐀

+ “i keep dreaming about fucking you”

it’s the same realm of questionable intentions every single night, suna wakes up saturated with sweat, head dizzy from the dreams riddling his mind and his cock is so strained against his briefs that it’s almost unbearable. maybe it started when he noticed you from afar at a small shop he frequented or the couple of dates he’d been on with you—or maybe, just maybe, it was when you were with him the other day and your hand just so happen to slide across his thigh and suna thought he’d combust right on the spot. he’d had enough of dreaming about sinking his fat cock inside you, waking up with his chest heaving and practically cumming untouched to the filth covered thoughts. it was time—suna finally grows some courage as he is awoken again with his cock throbbing for release, he has to call you, he has to have you.

“i keep dreaming about fucking you” suna pants, propped against your door with his foot is wedged at the space from the frame so his abrupt crashing into your house doesn’t startle you too much—but he really hasn’t thought this through fully, running off of that heat pooling in his gut and you. just how much he wants you—any shape or form that you would give him, suna is willing—he’s that desperate for just a slither of your cunt. “fuck me then rintaro” suna desperately struggles to make eye contact with you, shifting his lips to curl a cocky smile, he leans down to line his vision with yours, “yeah? you know in that dream, you kept begging me to make you cum—think you can make my dreams come true?” and suna thinks—absolutely believes he’s died the single moment his cock becomes buried in your pussy, larger palms cupping under your knees as he presses them to your chest. the sight before him is so beyond words ever explained, reaching a divine high as he watches you being split open by him. suna truly thinks heaven is his resting place when it feels this fucking good, walls milking him dry as suna reels his hips back to feel your juices spill from your hole before he is slamming right back inside you. “god, you’re so fucking wet princess” suna rasps, leaning his heavy form down on your body while his hands cradle the back of your head, he places a sloppy kiss against your lips, “i’m going to cum so fucking deep in this pussy” he mumbles picking up the pace as he feels your cunt clench in response. “make it mine, make you mine” suna leaves his mouth agape as the rush of his seed paints your walls, a silent moan escapes his lips and suna secretly loves those wet dreams he’s been having—maybe it’s time he makes all of them a reality.

꩜ 𝐀𝐓𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐔

+ “don’t stop touching me, please”

atsumu was tapping his fingers along the steering wheel to an obnoxious tune playing through the radio, humming steadily to a beat as he drove you and him back from a date night. his sleeves were pushed up to his elbows—revealing those toned muscles adorned on his arms, hair pushed back with just a few strands curtained on his face and a seldom smile on his lips. atsumu looked so good without even trying and you felt so filthy for a heat vibrating in your stomach gawking at him. “whatcha ya lookin’ at angel?” atsumu drags his eyes from the road, traveling them across your face down to your thighs rubbing together. a smirk toys along the corners of his mouth, “my girls needy, bet you’re so fucking wet right now.” atsumu feels your weight shift in the car, his face being peppered in wet kisses as your hand palms at his crotch. atsumu knuckles turn white as your fingers roll over his growing bulge. “m’gettin’ hard princess” atsumu grits his teeth, the car struggling to maintain the lane atsumu begins drifting so you pull back—but he’s deranged, lust drips from his eyes as he darts them back to you, grabbing your hand and shoving it back on his throbbing clothed cock. “keep touching me like that” atsumu groans—knowing he has to have you now.

“fuck princess just like that” atsumu groans, digging his nails into your hips as he bounces you on his cock, the angle bumping right up against that spongy spot—eyes crossing when he leans you back on the steering wheel to swip his thumb over your clit. “ride this fuckin’ cock angel, a-all yours” atsumu flips your shirt up to toy with your tits, bucking his hips up to meet your shallow strokes down on his cock. there could be cars passing by—headlights cascading down on your two bodies melting together while atsumu pounds harder in your soaking cunt but you have no shame, you do not care when he fucks you like his life depends on it. “baby stop clenchin’ i won’t last long if you keep making yer pussy so fucking tight” atsumu drops his forehead against your shoulder, mercifully rubbing harsher on your clit until an orgasm bubbles to the surface, his deep audible groans panting in your ear only aids you to fall over the edge, crying out while you cream his cock—atsumu shivers feeling his cum reach deep inside you. “all for you” he sighs, wrapping his arms around you as he gains some breathing room and who would think atsumu always seems to make you want to indulge in your most filthiest desires including him fucking you on the side of the road.

꩜ 𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀

+ “is this just sex?”

it seems shinsuke kita is oblivious to a lot of things but there’s on thing he is very keen on—fucking you. at this point you’re waiting by your phone, one quick message and you’re crawling into his bed, clothes pulled on the floor and bodies entangled—spoken like a mantra, his name falls from your lips so graciously. yet, that’s the summary of your relationship with kita—nothing more and nothing less, he seems to be content with the arrangement and you were until his fingers were interlocked with your own, kissing away frustrated tears as you creamed around his cock and the overload of affection he blessed your body with after everything was said and done. kita was someone that you craved—a being you wanted for yourself but asking the question became insufferable as he showed zero interest in anything other than fucking you. maybe that’s why anger clouded your judgment tonight as he pounded your pussy for all it was worth, strands of his hair brushed on your cheeks while kita nestled his face further into your neck, he stops as you mumble out the words almost like he’s terrified as the phrase slips from your lips, “is this just sex?”

“does it feel just like sex?” kita mumbles out, pulling his face from the crevice of your neck to linger his brown orbs down on you. he shifts from his position to drape one of your legs over his shoulder, bringing his hand down to circle your clit. “does it feel like i’m just fucking you when i want you to cum first?” kita averts his gaze to his cock slowly sliding through your folds, calloused pads circling your bundle of nerves while he rolls his hips to angle his length to bump right against your sweet spot. you can’t fathom a sentence by the way kita is fucking you, slowly bringing your orgasm to the surface while he continues pumping his throbbing cock into your clenching walls. “you’re more to me than just sex—a lot fucking more, angel” kita grunts, struggling to keep a rhythm as he watches your body wither beneath him. you fall so easily to his cock, the way he fucks you through your orgasm just to watch you fall apart all over again. you succumb to his spell—whatever it might be, kita has that effect on you, juices gushing around his cock and a sheen liquid spraying amongst his lower gut. he swallows a thick lump at how messy you are for him, he’s completely in love with every single feature adorned across your form and he craves just another look of your face when he’s pushing his cum deeper inside you—kita bends down to press a kiss on your forehead, slowly smiling when you can’t say anything back but a throaty moan, “does that answer your question? or should i just say that i want you for as long as you’ll let me have you, my pretty girl.”

꩜ 𝐁𝐎𝐊𝐔𝐓𝐎

+ “i can’t stop thinking about you”

another week without you and bokuto thinks he’s going absolutely insane besides how much comfort he gets with your body sleeping beside his—it’s the feeling of your fingers tracing his skin, how you pay close attention slowly wrapping your lips around his cock, digits cupping his sensitive balls while all he can possibly do is throw his head back begging and moaning for more. with his phone on standby bokuto grabs it, quickly dialing your number, he hears how much croak enables your voice in the second ring. “hey pretty girl” bokuto shifts in the hotel bed, grimacing how the sheets are stiff and his left side is so cold, “hey kōtarō, it’s late you need to be asleep.” bokuto rolls his sweats down to his thighs, listening to his thick cock smack against his stomach echoing through the room. “j-just need you so bad princess” bokuto whimpers, blowing through any introduction as he notices how angry his cock looks twitching against his stomach, “i can’t stop thinking about you.”

bokuto usually takes his time working his orgasm to the surface but when his own hand is doing it—it’s completely a different story, “i hear how wet you are for me baby, just imagine i’m there—how much you need my cock.” bokuto can hear lewd noises drifting through his ear, soft throaty moans while he props the phone on his shoulder as the other fists his cock faster and faster till his thighs begin to tremble. bokuto screws his eyes shut, painting a pretty picture of you above him, bouncing on his cock while he slaps the fat of your ass, tits perfectly pouncing to every thrusts he pounds harder in your cunt. he loves how much your body begins to dissolve before him, he hates that his cum won’t be in your weeping hole, grunting and panting when he’s so fucking close now. “i’m about to cum, fuck i’m so fucking close angel” bokuto groans out listening to you hitting your peak, fast—shrill whimpers linger through his eardrum as he feels hot liquid splatter his stomach. silence seems to cast among your voices, bokuto sighs uneasy once his eyes finally crack open, it’s not enough—truly not enough. “video call now, i have to see you pretty baby, i have to see what’s mine” bokuto whines in the phone and you cannot possibly say no to him when his begging is just so cute.

꩜ 𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀

+ “nobody has ever made me cum”

“she’s totally exaggerating” you huff, watching a sex scene appear on the screen while you’re neslted under hinata’s arm, he softly chuckles, the vibrations of his chest stir your limbs, “yeah but when you cum really hard it can sound like that, babe.” though you haven’t had sex with your new boyfriend yet, the topic of discussion has come up a few times but never to the missing detail you seem to always forget to tell him. “oh, yeah totally” you avoid his lingering stare, providing your attention back on the show. hinata squints his eyes back at you before a playful smile tugs at his lips, “can i ask you a question?” you want to sink into the couch, you already know what he’s going to ask so before he can feed into his own curiosity—“nobody has ever made me cum, i know that’s what you’re wondering.” hinata hums back in reply and you silently watch the rest of your show but honestly—you wish he’d have a better reaction than that.

“shoyo—y-you don’t have to do this” your voice strangles in your throat as hinata leaves wet open mouth kisses on the insides of your thighs. “why would i not want to make you cum?” he smiles so sweetly and the insanity of thinking hinata really would just leave you another day without feeling what it’s like to cum—hard, he truly wants to make you sound just like on the tv shows you watch together. “b-but like this?” you squeak, chest heaving as hinata gently flattens his tongue to slide down your slit, “just relax angel, i want to make you feel good like you deserve.” he groans when you fist his hair in your grasps, jerking him harder on your heat as hinata begins running circles on your puffy clit with the tip of his tongue. his nails indent into the plush of your thighs as he laps and sucks the spillage of your juices from his ministrations. you’re already about to lose your mind, back arching off the bed while hinata flicks his warm muscle on your bundle of nerves, smirking against your pussy when you begin reaching a higher choked moan. “that’s right baby, cum on my tongue” hinata muffles through your cunt, bringing two fingers up to plunge into your tight hole, pumping the digits vigorously as he feels your orgasm quickly approaching. “sho—i think i’m gonna cum” your hips buck into his face, hinata hums into your cunt—the vibrations sending you straight over the edge, “no princess, you’re going to cum” he watches as you gush on his fingers, tits bouncing with the sharp breathes exhaling from your lungs as the orgasm hits you hard—enough to break the sound barrier with your moans alone. “if you sound like that i can’t fucking wait to hear you cum on my cock, pretty girl” hinata groans, crawling over you with a taunting grin sewed on his cheeks.

[saetoru]

Do you ever think about rich boy gojo in a college au :( because i do :(

tags: fem! reader, slight dry humping, fingering, unprotected sex, creampie, car sex

gojo satoru is the most agitating guy you know—and you tell yourself that you can’t stand him.

he’s got an obnoxiously fancy car he revs the engine of, he wears annoyingly expensive clothes to an eight am class that everyone else shows to in sweats, he shows up with the newest everything as soon as it’s out, and he really does think he can get whatever he wants, whenever he wants.

you think someone ought to tell him no just once in his life, that someone should put him in his place and teach him just how life works—not everyone has trust funds to fall back on, and not everyone cares for his little pout that always gets him anything he says.

but gojo satoru is painfully attractive, and he’s painfully attracted to you—and you can only push whenever he pulls so many times before your resolve weakens. he’s a cocky bastard, and he thinks everything in life is a breeze that he doesn’t have to work for, but he’s hard to resist—no matter how many times you tell yourself that you’ll resist.

it’s hot, and gojo’s breath on your neck is only added heat as his hands wander up your hips, squeezing them and pulling you closer on his lap. you gasp, and he smirks against your skin, reclining the leather seat of his car back so you both have more room.

“never happening,” he mocks your voice with a high pitch to his, sucking on your skin and surely leaving marks. you try your best to glare at him—and he feels his boxers tighten at your persistence. “looks to me like it’s happening, sweetheart,” he continues to try and get under your skin, and you grip his shoulders tightly, nails digging into his skin through his shirt.

“you asked for a date,” you bite back, “fucking in your car is not a date. this has no feelings attached,” you say firmly, and he pouts, bucking his hips up so that his erection rubs against your clothed clit, making you both shudder. he lets out a soft groan, and your breath hitches in your throat.

“trying to hurt my feelings, sweetheart?” he pouts deeper, but his eyes are amused, and it makes you hate him even more. there’s never any winning with gojo satoru, even when you think you’ve got him right where it hurts, there’s never any beating him.

and there’s something about him that lights you up—the way he’s so out of reach, the way he’s so out of your league. you’re in two different worlds, and no matter how much gojo tries to pull you into his, you’ll never belong. it’s easier this way, hating him and his privilege and his cockiness—it’s so much easier than fighting for a spot that was never yours in the first place.

and even when he prods his fingers into your entrance, curling his digits and rubbing his palm over your clit, even as he presses soft kisses to your collarbone and neck, trailing them up your jaw, even as you unravel on his fingers and clench around them as you cum, you tell yourself gojo satoru will never be yours—and you’ll certainly never give him the pleasure of calling you his.

“gojo—”

“satoru,” he corrects, and there’s a certain authority in his tone that leaves no room for arguments. it only makes you want to argue with him more, to push his buttons more and repeat his surname again just to get under his skin, but you can’t think straight anymore when he sinks you onto his swollen cock, pushing past your slick folds and making you feel so full. “say it—say satoru,” he demands.

you can’t help but cry out a whiny, “s-satoru!” when he snaps his hips up, slamming into your cunt and hitting the spot that makes you see stars with his tip.

gojo doesn’t understand why you don’t want him—he could give you everything you want with a snap of his fingers and swipe of his card, but more than that, he’s willing to give you parts him underneath too. parts of him that no one’s seen, that no one’s heard of, that no one’s even thought existed. gojo wants to give you everything he is.

you’re different. so different.

you put him in his place, you test his limits, and you make him feel alive. you don’t give him the importance everyone else does, and he craves being someone to you—because he knows it’ll be for all the right reasons.

the drag of his cock makes you delirious, and the way you clench around his length makes him gasp, moaning loudly into your neck as he buries his face into the crook of it. your hands wander to his sweaty locks, tugging at the roots and making him quietly whimper against your skin.

“f-fuck,” he grunts, “been dreaming about this for so long, been dreaming of your pussy for so long,” he rasps, and the angling of his pelvis along with you bouncing on his stiff cock makes his head spin. he wants more, more of you. he wants to see you sprawled beneath him on his king sized bed, tits bouncing as he slams into your dripping cunt over and over. he wants to collapse beside your body after you’re both spent, feeling the drag of your fingertip on his bare chest as you trace patterns while he pulls you into his arms.

he’s never dreamt about these things for anyone else—and he’s so frustratedly hooked on you. he needs more, needs everything, needs to have all of you in the palm of his hand.

and for the first time in his life, gojo satoru feels like he has nothing. he has nothing if he doesn’t have you.

“satoru,” you gasp, and against your better judgement, you lean in and pull him into a heated kiss, teeth and tongue and muffled moans mingling as your lips collide.

“i know,” he groans, and you feel the coil in your belly start to unravel at his voice alone, deep and husky and needy all at once. “i know, baby.”

and if it were any other time, you’d scoff and tell him off for calling you that pet name, but this time is makes you whine, thighs quivering as you near your high, and the twitch of his cock tells you he’s close to follow.

gojo throws his head back against the driver’s seat of his car, mouth agape as he moans loudly. there’s an ache between his legs—he’s so close, and you feel so good, squeezing around him so tight, he knows he can’t let this be the last time he fucks you. no one will ever take his cock like this, and no one will ever make him cum as hard as he knows he’s about to.

“c-close, toru,” you gasp, biting your lip as you fight your eyes to stay open and stare at him falling apart right before you. he’s so beautiful, sweaty skin glistening and swollen lips parted. he whines quietly, and slowly, you both inch your heads closer, foreheads meeting as your breaths fan across your faces with each strangled gasp.

“ngh—shit, ‘m c-cumming,” he grunts, and with a few more thrusts, he’s spilling his hot cum into you, painting your walls white as he chokes on a cry. “oh fuck,” he rasps, “fuck, baby.”

and when you reach your orgasm for the second time, you pull his lips into a heated kiss once more, muffled whines pouring into his lips that he drinks in greedily, arms wrapping around you tighter, pulling you closer, feeling you nearer.

you both pant as you finish, cum dripping down your thighs and leaving a mess, but you can’t find it in yourself to care as you slump onto his chest, cheek pressing against it and feeling his heart hammer as he rubs your back slowly while he catches his breath.

“this isn’t a date,” you remind him sternly after you’ve both recovered, “i don’t let people fuck me on the first date.” he chuckles quietly, pressing a soft kiss to your temple, pulling you impossibly closer.

gojo finally knows what it’s like to have you in his arms, and maybe it’s only temporary for now, but one taste has him determined to make sure it’s not temporary for long.

“that’s okay,” he says with a smirk, but if you’d looked into his eyes, you’d see a softness to them—fond and filled with affection. “but i still want you, and i always get what i want, sweetheart.”

hello !! if ur reading this, this drabble right here has kind of turned into a recurring series on my blog so click on the tag rich boy! au below ⬇️ if you would like to read the rest !!

ty for sharing thoughts and ideas and babbling away with me about rich boy gojo and making him such a lively au! to write i adore it so much <3

[primofate]

Haikyuu! Drabble: When you get hurt (minor injuries)

Note: Ugggghhhhhhh I love these men. Honestly. wtf. How can you have so many good guys in one anime. Also please don’t take this as a sign that I’ll stop posting for Genshin, but you know, give me some space to hype over my other fandoms please XD

Warnings: it’s seriously just plain fluff

Characters: Kageyama, Tsukishima, Oikawa, Bokuto, Ushijima

Kageyama

“What happened to your knee?”

Is the first thing he says, his face as serious as ever, eyes looking at your bandaged knee as he approaches you in class. You laugh nervously as you unwound the school bag away from your shoulder, placing it on your desk.

“Ah, I was walking Momo-chan last night...But you know, he’s gotten so big and I guess I was a little distracted...He saw a squirrel and just went running for it and...” you trail off, feeling Kageyama’s aura change. You knew he was about to call you reprimand you, and sure enough, he says “Idiot,” just as he would to Hinata.

On closer inspection you also had a bandage around your wrist. He guessed that you tried to hold on to the leash and it dragged your hand across the pavement. 

After berating you with that one word, he wouldn’t say anything else about it. But he would, whenever he could, show some concern that you wouldn’t usually see. “I’ll take that,” he grabs your lunch box from you and you look up at him all confused as to why he’s carrying it for you today. 

But, he stops at the door of the classroom and then turns around. “Actually, let’s just eat here,” as opposed to the school rooftop where the two of you usually ate. 

And then, at the end of the school day, before you could even lift your bag over your shoulder, he’s already there and lifting it on HIS shoulder. You’re dumbfounded. “Are you going to your club? I’ll walk you first then go to mine,” 

Then it hits you. It’s because you’re hurt, and he didn’t want you to strain your knee or wrist anymore. You secretly smile but let him do what he wants. There was no stopping him when he set his mind to it after all. “Tobio-kun, you know, it’s just a scrape, I can still do things by myself,” 

“Shut up and just let me do it...” he mutters under his breath, until he drops you off to your club and goes his own way. 

And then, as your nightly routine to walk Momo-chan, you’re stunned when you see your boyfriend standing there, outside your house gates. Hands in his pockets. “T-Tobio?” 

He lived close by, but still, you didn’t expect him to be there. He snatches the leash away from you, your dog is just happily gazing at the two of you, tail swishing wildly at the fact that TWO of his favourite people are walking him today. And again, Kageyama says,

“...I need to go for a run anyway,”

Tsukishima

“Excuse me, I’m looking for a Tsukishima-san,”

A girl in the basketball team uniform appears at the doorway of the gym, all members turn to her as she bows and straightens up. Tsukishima sighs in relief. Finally an actual excuse to rest from training. 

“That’s me,” he towers over the girl, who only blinks up at him, slightly intimidated. “Ah, uh, yeah...Y/N said that you have her spare glasses?” His eyebrows perk up. Right. You were in the basketball team, for some reason he always forgot that detail. 

He turns away without a word and goes to his bag. He did, indeed, have your spare glasses. You left it at his house last time during a study session, being the airhead that you are. He retrieves it but before handing the black box to the girl, he asks. “What happened to the ones she has?” 

He wasn’t thinking much of it. Perhaps someone accidentally stepped on it, or maybe you even accidentally broke it.

"The ball hit her face,” 

“Is she--”

The words of worry practically dies on his lips. He could feel and sense Yamaguchi and Sugawara listening in to the conversation and he’d drop dead before getting caught being worried for someone. But still, this is why he always told you that you needed sports glasses. A scratch to the eye could be dangerous.

He sighs pretty loudly, and turns to face Sugawara who was off court, standing next to Yamaguchi who was also taking a small break. “Sugawara-san, I’ll be back,” There’s a big smile on his vice captain’s face, same as Yamaguchi who knew that his friend was actually worried. 

Tsukishima ignored their stupid smiles.

“Oh! Kei,” You look up as the door to the school clinic opened, you were just sitting on one of the beds, legs moving back and forth and waiting for your teammate to retrieve the spare glasses for you. Tsukishima said that he’d handle it and as he passed the black box to you he grabs your chin and turns it in his hands, looking at your eyes. 

There was a cut under your left eye that was already patched up. He releases your face when he was sure it was actually nothing serious, only to cross his arms and smirk at you. “See, I told you that hard head of yours would come in handy. Also receive the ball with your hands, not your face,”

You puff your cheeks out in annoyance and put your spare glasses on, feeling brand new. “Sure did, but my glasses aren’t as strong as my skull,” you sulked and he only blinked. “and I was taking a break! Then suddenly I see the ball coming at me, I don’t think that’s my fault!”

“I believe you. Your team has horrid ball passing skills after all,” he’s relentless with his insults but you knew that’s just the way he was. The fact that he came all the way to the school clinic told you enough about his worry. So, you ignore his last remark and smile up at him, “Thanks for checking on me, Kei,” 

He clicks his tongue but places his hand on your head, “Let’s get you new ones tomorrow, and maybe now you’ll listen to me about those sports glasses,” 

Oikawa

“She’s absent today,”

Oikawa’s face fell. You hadn’t told him anything about being sick or being unwell today. He wondered what happened. However, despite his looks and carefree personality, the Aoba Johsai captain was someone who was actually quite detailed. “In that case, can someone pass me her homework? I’ll go and deliver it to her!”

Safe to say your classmates were always surprised at how much the captain doted on you. He wasn’t always doing it openly, but at least he was thoughtful and thorough.

“Y/N-chan~ How could you leave me all alone in school today?” You could practically hear the pout from the other side of the line. He’d gone to the school grounds to get some private time to call you. 

“Sorry Toru, I can’t really walk properly. It should be fine in a few days though,”

His heart did a little leap, worry etching itself on his features. “What do you mean? What happened?”

The pout in his voice was gone, replaced by what you always called “the captain voice”. 

“I sprained my ankle...It’s a long and stupid story...” you laughed but you heard him sigh. “Well, I have no choice then. Your prince will visit you after-school today!”

You didn’t think he really would. He had volleyball practice and he took those seriously. But at 8 pm, just as you finished dinner, your doorbell rang and next thing you knew he was in your room. 

Your mother just LOVED him. Sometimes you thought even more than you. She was unaware of how hyper Oikawa actually was. He certainly knew how to play his cards right. 

“Alright princess, let me see that foot,” While you were sitting on your chair he practically bent down on on one knee and inspected it. He did kind of look like a prince like that, with his volleyball jacket. Then he suddenly plopped on the floor with his legs crossed. “AAhhhh! That sucks you won’t come to school for a few days!” He was whining again and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

Without fail, every day that you were absent, he showed up at your house after practice.

Bokuto

It’s not that you were particularly clumsy. You were actually a pretty careful person, and that’s why Bokuto always trusted your cooking skills over his. Baking a cake shouldn’t be too hard, but you were rather unfamiliar with the oven at his place.

“Mm, so, it says here to just leave it in the oven for 45 minutes!” he has this big smile on his face and you shake the batter in the round container again. The oven had already been pre-heated and when you open the door to it, hot air greets you. 

You took the round container in your hand, and push it in. It sits just at the front of the oven and you really hate it when that happens, so, with your boyfriend still focused on the recipe (and without mittens cause you think it’ll just be quick push) you try to inch the round cake pan further in with your hand. At one point, you accidentally touch the inside of the hot oven and you recoil your hand with a loud gasp. 

“WHAT?! What what what?!” Bokuto flings the recipe book away and clutches at your hand. In all honesty it didn’t hurt that much, but you had made contact on the hot surface just enough for it to sting and startle you. “Nothing Kou, I just accidentally touched the oven,” you laugh sheepishly but he’s pulling you over to the sink.

The boy is panicking.

“Water!” You’re amazed at how he even knows what to do, running water now splashing on your hand. It wasn’t even enough to burn you, it was just a little red, that’s all. “K-Kou, it’s totally fine,” 

But he turns to you with a waterfall of tears running down his eyes and his hair has deflated from it’s usual spiky style. “I-I’m so useless!” 

‘Ah there he goes,’ you think. But you’ve been trained by Akaashi how to handle these kinds of outbursts from him. “Not at all Kou-kun, you mixed the batter so perfectly. I usually get tired when I do that, but you have really strong arms! Next time I’ll let you handle the oven too, is that okay?”

He stares at you blankly for a moment. The tears have disappeared and his lips oh-so slowly curve into a smile. He gives you a thumbs up, back to his usual flair and confidence. “Of course! Leave it to me!” and he laughs triumphantly while you thank Akaashi in your mind.

Ushijima

Cooking for him and Tendo at the dorms was like a weekly routine. It was mostly for Ushijima, but Tendo liked crashing the cooking party too.

“Be careful.” Ushijima says as he passes the vegetables for you to chop. You did so without any incident. The cooking itself passes by without any incident, until your hand slip off the plate you’re holding and it comes crashing down the floor, shattering into pieces, some of the pieces flying off in different directions.

Ushijima and Tendo perks up in alarm at the sudden sound, with Ushijima being the first to rise on his feet and assess the situation. You’re about to carefully just move away from the mess you made, shards littering around your feet. “Don’t move,” Ushijima tells you, noting that you were only wearing his over-sized slippers. He sees that one of the shards has cut your foot. It was small, but since it was fresh, it was still bleeding. 

“If you move you’ll hurt yourself, wait for me,” you do as told as Ushijima first sweeps off the rest of the shattered glass with a broom, disposes of it. Next he comes to you with a new set of slippers, puts it down on the now clean floor, and tells you to carefully slip out of the ones you have on, he was cautious about the small pieces. Only when you were neatly into the new set of slippers did he clean off the rest of the glass.

Tendo only sat and watched in amusement. His captain was very thorough, even with things like that. “I’ll go and get a first aid kit~” he offered as he stood and sauntered off. “Y/N, sit over there,” he pointed at a nearby chair and you merely follow. There was no use saying no to him, you knew he just wanted to check if everything was in order.

Sure enough just as Tendo comes back with the kit, Ushijima inspects your foot, eyes scanning all around it. It seems that there was only that one cut and it’d be easy to treat. You weren’t surprised that Ushijima knew what to do, watching him take some cotton and pour some alcohol on it, muttering under his breath that it would sting a bit. 

By the end of it, the cut on your foot was disinfected and bandaged properly. “Oohhhh! Good job Wakatoshi-kun!” Tendo praised his friend for the clean job and Ushijima nodded his head with a small “Mm,”

“Thank you,” you smile up at him, “and sorry for the plate, I wasn’t paying attention,” 

Ushijima makes a thoughtful sound, perhaps a little confused by your apology “...The plate is of no great value,” he simply says “it can be replaced.”

"I can’t say the same for you Y/N, so it’s good that you weren’t gravely hurt,” The blush on your cheeks is obvious and Ushijima doesn’t understand what has you so flustered, he’s just being his honest and straightforward self. 

Tendo only laughs at the display.

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[koishua]

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐔𝐁𝐋𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐄?

ji changmin x fem!reader. established relationship!au. fluff, humor. less than 0.500k words. a/n: i think he's the most endearing person ever goodbye i love him but i hate that doll so much i despise and detest and abhor it with my entire being ew ;-;

synopsis: in which, a doll gets in the way of your budding relationship </3

"ji changmin, put that devil's incarnate back down and dismember it before i personally end you and it right here, right now."

the disheveled redhead peers into your soul from its place in changmin's embrace, seemingly mocking you as you play a quick round of uno on the carpeted floor. as sad as the lack of people you had around to play the game properly with is, the chucky figure was enough to stop your constant complaints against the cheating tricks the boy in front of you had been trying to use the past five minutes— god, its eyes are the most off-putting thing you had ever gotten the displeasure of seeing.

other than its owner, of course. ji changmin's mind was truly a wonderland filled with some of the sweetest and twisted thoughts— who in their right mind would ever find the abomination of a toy genuinely cute?

"oh, come on!" he whines, holding it with both of his hands right in front of your face by its waist, "look at him! he is the most adorable thing ever."

you scrunch up your face in disgust, opting to not look at chucky's face and swatting it away from your direct line of vision with the back of your hand, "i am not kidding when i say that i won't talk to you for a whole month if you don't discard it from this room this instance, min."

"are you seriously telling me that our relationship is on the line just because of my son?" he asks incredulously. dramatically sighing, he turns his doll towards him, "it's okay if she can't accept you now, you know that i still love you so much, right?"

you slap a hand over your forehead, "that's it, we're breaking up."

changmin deadpans, chuckling nervously, "okay, fine! i get it, i'll put him away." he pouts to himself, grumbling silently. giving the toy a tight squeeze, he places it back inside the wardrobe.

you gasp, setting down your cards on the floor face down before springing up, "not in there, you psycho! put it somewhere else where it won't be able to come out."

disregarding the plastic demon in his other arm, you lead him to the storage boxes stacked on top of each other at the back of the apartment, opening the lid of an empty one and pointing at it, "play with it when i'm not around, please."

"fine, he won't be bothering you again." he frowns and sets chucky gently down inside the semi-clear box. he doesn't resist the urge to give you one small scare however, giving you a subtle, cheeky smile, "not that you'd even notice him whenever he's hiding behind the door and under our bed at least."

you feel chills run down your spine, mind running in a speed unlike ever before, immediately clinging onto his arm as a reaction to your fight or flight response engaging after his ominous words, "changmin!"

he only laughs and messes your hair, "don't worry, i will protect you. our son won't actually kill us, trust me."

"i don't trust you!"

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[differentkettleoffishalltogether]

Moi Je Joue

Summary: A nighttime picnic date forces young Spencer out of his comfort zone.

A/N: This is a sort of request for a season 1/2 Spencer with glasses fic. It’s not explicitly sub!spence but those are most definitely the vibes

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Mostly smut, and a lil fluff

Warnings/Includes: smut, graphic descriptions of sexual acts, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, public sex (well semi-public), please let me know if there’s anything I’ve missed!

Word count: 2.1k

Request: “Ooh, maybe reader borrows his glasses and he gets all flustered because she looks adorable in them?” + “heavy petting in a public place and he gets all nervous”

Masterlist

He’s been trying to ask her out for so long. So pathetically long. But the words would always get stuck in his throat whenever he thought he’d built up the courage to say them.

This time though, this time he managed to blurt them out, and she was as excited as him for their date. It shocked him really. Most of why he was afraid to ask was because he was so afraid she’d say no. Or just never talk to him again. But she’s said yes. And then a different kind of panic set in.

He had to take her on a date now, and it had to be a nice one, and it had to go well. She deserved nothing more than the most romantic date that Spencer could think of.

So he went with a cliché, a picnic. A picnic underneath the stars in this little secluded part of the park that he loved so much. He went there alone quite a lot, bringing books to read and a blanket to lay on. It was a spot he loved and he really, really hoped she’d like it too. Maybe it could be their spot? He was getting ahead of himself already.

He planned it for a clear night, so that when they were lying down on his blanket, by the light of the little lamp he’d brought, he could point up at the stars.

“See that one there, the one that looks like a ‘W’?” Spencer points up, and she focuses her attention towards the stars glittering above her.

“I think so” she squints a little, even if she had no idea which one he was talking about the view was still breathtaking.

“That’s Cassiopeia, first catalogued by the Greek astronomer Ptolemy in the 2nd century. Greek mythology says that Poseidon banished Cassiopeia to the sky, to suffer upside down on her throne forever because of her vanity”

“Was she beautiful?” She turns to Spencer and asks but she doesn’t wait for an answer, “I want to take a closer look” she says, sitting up on her elbows to pluck the glasses off his face.

It takes him a second to register what’s going on before she’s putting them on, lying back down on the blanket so that she can look back up at the stars through his frames. She can’t see much of anything with them on really, but she’d wanted to do that forever. Spencer was so easy to tease, he got nervous so easily but in a way that was so completely endearing.

It’s not like he was totally blind without his glasses, but when he propped himself up to look at her he wished he had perfect vision so he could commit it to memory. The way her hair was fanned out around her, his glasses perched on the bridge of her nose, all lit up by the moon and the stars. She was the most perfect thing he’d ever seen, blurry or in focus.

But he takes the glasses back off of her then, so that he can put them back on and see the clearer picture. When he does she’s gazing back up at him, her bottom lip tucked gently between her teeth.

He leans down slowly, he knows it’s the right move, but he’s still nervous. And she can tell so she brings a hand up to the back of his neck, cradling it gently so that she can pull him down towards her just a little and bring their lips together.

His lips are soft, and he’s too shy to apply anything more than the lightest pressure, so she tugs him just a little closer, giving him permission to relax into it. And so he does, teasing along her bottom lip with his tongue, prompting her to open her mouth just enough so that his tongue can slide inside and taste her properly.

When he pulls back eventually she’s looking up at him expectantly, “What was that for?” She asks with a smile, and his lips pull up in a matching one immediately.

“You just looked so pretty” he breathes out, and it’s so genuine, and so unbearably sweet that she’s on him again instantly. Pushing against his side just a little so that she can have a little more control this time. Until she’s on top of him on the blanket, his hands resting gently on her lower back as her legs rest either side of him, her torso laying almost flat on top of his.

They stay like that for a while, tongues tangling together, his hands never roaming any father than the small area between her waist and her lower back. Nervous and terrified to do anything more.

Until she’s sitting up, looking down at him as she sits perched on top of his hips. The skirt of her dress is all fanned out around them, and he’s painfully aware that her panties are the only piece of fabric thats covering her under that skirt. He wishes he didn’t think about that because the second he did he was absolutely done for.

She grinds down on him just a little and she can feel it immediately, his cock beginning to grow hard right beneath her. And she knows she has to play her cards right here.

So she leans back down along his torso, bringing her lips to his ears this time. Her hands reaching down to find his and place them on her thighs, just under the hem of her dress.

“I want you to touch me Spencer, please?” She moans it against his ear and she can feel his cock move against her leg.

His fingertips dig into her thighs eagerly and she tucks her face right into he crook of his neck. Her lips connecting with the delicate pale skin there, sucking and biting it just a little so that there’d at least be a small mark there when she was done.

When she starts to grind down on him a little harsher though he starts to freeze up, she can feel the way he tenses under her so she pulls back gently and he looks so nervous.

She lets him sit up a little, “What’s wrong, do you want me to stop?” she asks him and it’s so sweet and genuine.

“No! No. I just— we’re in the park? In public?” he rushes out, looking around them quickly. She takes his pretty face in her hands, cradling it softly.

“When was the last time you saw anyone walk past Spence?” she asks and he nods, “There’s no one around” she reassures.

He looks up at her through his glasses, his eyes so round and sweet, “Are you sure?”

“Of course baby” she tells him and something in him snaps, baby. He’s her baby.

He lunges at her then, kissing her with a newfound intensity as he pulls her back down on top of him. Placing his hands on either side of her head so that he can keep her face pressed close to his while she lays above him.

It doesn’t take long before things are picking up where they left off, she has to put Spencer’s hands back where she wants them, taking them off of her face and directing them back to her thighs. He learns fast, he knows that she moans a little louder when he digs his nails in rather than just his fingertips. He can feel the extra heat in her kiss as his hands creep slowly closer to her ass.

“Touch me Spencer, I’m yours” she moans out and that’s all the reassurance he needs before his hands are gripping her ass over her panties and they’re both moaning now.

She starts to grind down on him again, now that she knows just how excited he is. Every time her hips push down against his he seems to let out a little whimper. When she’d had enough of teasing him like that she snakes her hand down between then tugging at his belt until its undone, and then she’s pulling down his zipper so she can get her hand inside.

When she touches him for the first time over his briefs she can feel the wet patch from where he’d been leaking against the cotton. His cock twitches against her fingers, and even thought it’s dark she’s fairly certain she can see his face has flushed completely pink.

“Are we gonna…” Spencer trails off in a little gasp as her hand grips his cock now, squeezing it just a little.

“Only if you want to baby” she assures him, and he’s nervous, but he’s also more turned on than he’s ever been, so he nods his head.

“Please” it comes out like a little desperate whimper, and how could she say no to that.

She moves a little so that she’s hovering above his lap, moving the skirt of her dress out of the way so that she can pull his cock out of his trousers. It looks painfully hard and it’s leaking at the tip from anticipation. He whimpers as soon as she’s touching it skin to skin, he’d been desperate for this for so much longer than he'd realized.

“Uh, Y/N” he whines, covering his face with his arm, biting into it in an effort to stifle his pathetic little noises.

“That’s it baby” she comforts him, pumping along his length a few times with one hand, the other coming up to pull his arm away from his face. “I wanna hear those pretty little noises”

She lets go and moves back to her position hovering over him, lining up against his cock before slowly sinking down on it. She’s gathered her dress up so that he can see himself disappear into her as she moves down his length, taking him inch by inch. He almost cums from the sight alone.

She gives both of them time to get used to the feeling. Spencer already looked like he was about to burst. She was so tight and wet and warm around him. When she started to move it was almost too much.

The noises Spencer made as she rocked up and down on him were so desperate, almost pained. He wanted to watch but he just had to let his head fall back against the blanket beneath him, squeeing his eyes shut because he could focus on nothing but the feeling of her on top of him.

His hands stayed firmly on her hips, not guiding her or anything, he wouldn’t even trust himself to do that. More just trying to hold on, to ground himself. She’s almost taking more pleasure in the faces he makes and the little wanton moans that escape him than the feeling of him inside of her. If there had been people around they’d have most certainly been caught by now

She takes a little pity on him though and leans down to capture his lips in a soft warm kiss, letting him moan all he likes into her mouth so that if she can’t hear his noises she can at least feel them.

When she pulls back she whispers right into his ear, “You’re doing so good for me baby, you feel perfect” he can only whimper in response and his head falls back down against the blanket.

She takes the opportunity to litter kisses all along the column of his pretty little throat. Sucking especially hard right below his ear, leaving a delicate bruise right where he wouldn’t be able to cover it up tomorrow.

It didn’t take much longer before she could feel him tensing beneath her, his hips squirming just a little, his grip on her hips growing more frantic. He was close and she knew it.

“Cum for me baby, I want it inside me” she gives him permission, and the sound of her voice alone is turning him on at this point. Right on cue he spills inside of her, his hands losing their grip on her hips as she continues to move up and down on top of him only a few times more.

And then she’s finishing too, before she’s collapsing down onto him. Their chests pressed right up against each other as they tried to steady out their breathing.

“What were you saying about Cassiopeia?” she giggles.

-- 

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[paterson-blue]

Summary: Sackler's working on his impulse control. No, really--he is, he swears. It's just a lot harder when it comes to you.

Word Count: 8,432

Warnings: fem!AFAB!reader, angst with a happy ending, fluff, sexual tension, friends to lovers (but moves into established relationship), domestic shit, the regularly scheduled Sackler chaos, Sackler is soft, an anxious boy; a nervous boy, excessive gatorade drinking (it's his brand), classic Sackler banter, hair braiding, teasing, handjobs, fingering (f receiving), oral sex (f receiving), slight nose action, unprotected PIV sex (no chance of pregnancy), cock warming, praise kink, breeding kink (if you squint) — let me know if I need to add anything else!

Prefer AO3? I gotcha!

You’d entered his life slowly, inch by inch, sneaking into his consciousness until suddenly you were all he thought about. When he’d decided to wave at you across the aisle of the bodega all those months ago he’d had no idea of what the future would hold. All he knew was that he’d been seeing you there every day like clockwork; same time, same aisle.

He always grabbed a red Gatorade and you always grabbed some sort of sugary drink of your own. Occasionally the two of you seemed to move in sync, opening the fridge, reaching up, grabbing your item, and slamming the door all in one motion together. Adam thought it was kinda funny, two strangers' lives lining up in such a way, being part of each other’s daily routine. So one day he waves, a goofy grin on his face as he points to his signature bottle of red goodness.

You blink at him in surprise before almost shyly smiling back, your eyes bright, and oh—Adam’s stomach does a dangerous little flip-flop.

He waves at you for two weeks straight until it’s not enough anymore. He comes into the bodega one day determined to talk to you but with no concrete plan of how to do it. He’s a little early in his excitement, and he finds himself having to aimlessly browse the little store like a fuckin’ idiot before the familiar bell dings and he sees you come through the door. He half-trips over to the drink aisle, trying not to come across like he’s following you around, even though he definitely is.

You’re studying the various beverages in the fridge, mouth scrunched up as you consider them. He only allows himself a moment to admire you, not wanting you to catch him staring. He steps closer, boots thudding on the floor, making you look up at him. Now’s your chance, Sackler, a voice echoes in his head.

“What’s today’s flavor?” he hears himself say, and he feels relief wash over him when you give him that pretty smile.

“Oh, I’m not sure.” You sigh, settling your hands on your hips. “Maybe just water.”

“What?! Bullshit! You never get water!” Oh, so he’s just gonna double down on being a creep, huh? Saying he knows exactly what you get every day? Adam wants to smack the palm of his hand against his forehead.

But then you’re letting out a laugh, shaking your head at him. “Well maybe sometimes I like to change things up. We can’t all stick to red gatorade every damn day.”

Your comeback makes Adam feel half-giddy, both from the easy banter and from the acknowledgement that you’ve been paying just as much attention to him as he has to you.

“Well, I’ll have you know that red flavored Gatorade has special health benefits that others just don’t.” He states, leaning against the cool glass of the fridge. You’ve gone back to browsing, but you keep shooting him amused little looks; his ego crows at your attention.

“Is that so?” you ask, humoring him as you indeed select a bottle of water from the bottom shelf.

He’s nodding when you straighten back up, and points accusingly at the bottle of water. “Can’t believe you’re going for the boring shit.”

“Well,” you shrug, holding the bottle to your chest, “I’m feeling pretty boring today. But I dunno, tomorrow might be different. You’ll just have to wait and see.”

She doesn’t mean anything, Adam tries to tell himself. The two of you had been there together every day for the past two months. It’s not abnormal for you to assume he’ll show up again the next day. But still, your words, the between-the-lines invitation for him to see you again, makes his heart leap.

“I guess I will,” he responds firmly before grabbing his regular gatorade from the shelf. This time the two of you walk up to the register together, and before Adam can stop himself he’s digging into his jeans pocket, tugging out a couple crumpled bills. “Hey kid, lemme pay for that.”

You hesitate, but nod, chirping out a “thank you” in that sweet voice of yours. Adam slaps down the money, throwing in a pack of sunflower seeds along with the drinks. If it’s just to make the transaction last two seconds longer—to make him standing there with you two seconds longer—then he’ll keep it to himself. Soon, you’ve got your water and you're waving a goodbye as you step out of the store and onto the busy sidewalk.

Adam follows at a distance; watches you walk away, your purse slung over your shoulder, water already open and pressed to your lips. He watches until you disappear into the crowd, and then he’s sighing, looking down at his feet. It’s not until he’s trudging back home that he realizes he never even got your fuckin’ name.

_______________________________________

It’s another day before he gets your name. A week before the two of you leave together, leaning against the wall outside and sipping your respective drinks; two before he’s asking for your number. For some reason, you actually give it to him.

He’s nervous to text you first, which is unlike him. Sure, in the past he would get a little anxious, not wanting to make a complete fool out of himself, but he still went through with it. But it takes him an entire day to shoot you a message, asking if you wanted to go sit in the nearby park after the bodega stop. Your answer is an immediate yes, and suddenly Adam is eying the hole in the collar of his green t-shirt, wondering if he should change.

It’s not a date. The bodega isn’t a date, the park isn’t a date—the walks and lunches, coffee shops and movie nights in the weeks following aren’t dates either. So what if he cleaned the absolute shit out of his apartment before you came over for dinner? So what if he wore his nice jeans and black dress shirt, sleeves all rolled up to show off his forearms? So fuckin’ what?

It’s not a date.

It’s not a date until, a month into all your not-date’s, you’re standing at the sink with him as the two of you tag-team-clean the dishes. He’s washing, you’re drying, and there’s an easy rhythm flowing until a soapy plate slips from your grasp as he hands it to you. The dish smacks into the water-filled sink, creating a splash that soaks the both of you. You inhale a loud gasp, laughter already in your voice.

He seems to get the brunt of it, the front of his green plaid shirt darkening as warm, sudsy water bathes the fabric. His shoulders hunch up in surprise, and you’re giggling, covering your mouth with your hand. “Shit, I’m so sorry, that was an accident I swear.”

“Oh I call bullshit,” he growls, a grin spreading over his face. He yanks his arms up high, wriggling his fingers over your head so that water and suds drip onto you. “Pay back!” He crows, stalking towards you. You can easily duck under his arm to sideswipe him, to escape his grasp, but you don’t.

Instead, you swat at him with the dish towel in your hands, laughing as you shuffle backwards. “You better fuckin’ not, Sackler! I’ll scream!” You make idle threats at him but he doesn’t listen. He steps forward, forward, forward, hands dripping water all over your hair and shoulders as you shriek.

“I’mmmmm gonna getcha!” he sing-songs, jumping towards you, the wood floor creaking under his big feet. He’s got you cornered now, your back against the wall—ha! His arms swoop down in an attempt to engulf you, aiming to press his wet hands and shirtfront against you, but your hands fly out to grasp his wrists to halt him.

“I just bought this shirt!”

“It’s soapy water, it’s just gonna get more clean!”

“Adam!” You laugh, your voice betraying a tone of fond exasperation. And oh, you’re all smiley and breathless, eyes shining up at him—you’re so fuckin’ pretty. Most gorgeous thing he’s ever seen, lighting up his kitchen and his heart and his whole fuckin’ life with the brightest, warmest sunshine he’s ever felt. He stares at you, admiring you freely, not able to help it. You don’t seem to mind; you’re looking straight back at him, thumbs rubbing little circles on his wrists where water was trickling down to his forearms.

Adam’s never really been one for impulse control. That shit’s just never appealed to him. What was the point? If you’re gonna do something, just fuckin’ do it—get it out there in the open and see what happens. Yeah, sometimes things don’t go well, or—okay, they go really fuckin’ bad—but sometimes things turn out for the better! And the sweet feeling of elation whenever his bet, whenever trusting his gut, pays off? It was worth the risk.

So he lunges down, capturing your face in his wet palms as he presses his lips to yours. And shit, by some strange miraculous twist of fate you’re actually kissing him back. It makes him press forward, shoulders scrunched up and back curved towards you, angling himself for you to take. He thinks he could die happy, finally having your mouth against his, finally holding you the way he’s needed since the first fuckin’ day he saw you.

You sigh into his mouth and he gobbles it up greedily, sucking at your bottom lip, full on moaning when your tongue swipes against his cupid’s bow. When you insist on pulling away to get some air he stays close to share your breath, brushing his nose against yours. You hum out a pleased little noise and he wants to melt into the floor. He thinks about doing it—about sinking to his knees and pressing his face into your stomach, holding you tight, tight, tight.

He thinks he might have, if you hadn’t reached up to card your fingers through his hair, fingertips massaging deliciously at his scalp. He presses a needy little kiss to the corner of your mouth; your lips quirk upwards at his touch. When you break the silence it’s in a hushed tone, your hands sliding over his biceps. “That was nice.”

Adam grins, rubbing the tip of his nose over your cheekbone just because he can. “I can do better,” he promises cheekily, “Just gotta let me show you.”

You laugh, saying oh really? in a way that has him preening.

“Hell yeah. I’m a very well rounded individual.” He finally straightens back up, watching you with hopeful eyes, painfully shoving back the urge to ask you if you wanted to kiss him again.

“… I’ve got work tomorrow,” you finally say, and Adam nods, because he knows you do. You took your shit seriously. But oh, you’re reaching for his hand, and the relief he feels when you touch him is immediate. “But I'm free tomorrow night,” you tell him, your own eyes bright, waiting for him to take your offering—and there’s no way in hell he’s going to pass it up.

“Well good, because we’re having dinner. That back alley Thai place. And then I’ll take you out to that gross ice cream shop down the street you like so fuckin’ much.”

You nod, bouncing on your toes a little, and it’s so goddamn cute that Adam almost dips down to kiss you again. The most he lets himself do is rub the back of your hand with his thumb, watching you intently. “And I’m fuckin’ paying, don’t even think about bringing any money.”

You offer him a grin. “Alright. It’s a date.”

Adam nods, so fast he thinks he probably looks unhinged, but hey—that’s nothing new. “You bet your ass it’s a date, kid.”

An actual date. With you. It only took three months.

_______________________________________

So yeah. Impulse control.

Never been Adam’s thing.

It’s not that he doesn’t think about his actions. Okay, well, sure, sometimes he doesn’t. Sometimes he just goes with his gut and throws caution to the wind, like when he’d kissed you. He’d just known it was what he should do, and so he did it. He likes to think most of his impulsive decisions are perfectly logical and sound, even the ones that don’t work out. It’s not his fault if other people don’t always agree with what he does. This is how he’s lived his life all these years, and it’s worked out more often than not. Why change something that isn’t broken, or whatever the saying is.

Except. He meets you. And fuck, suddenly he’s overthinking every little urge, every little snap judgement—tight-rope walking the thread of fate. He’s on edge for the best of reasons; you’re the most wonderful thing he thinks has ever fuckin’ happened to him and there’s no goddamn way he’s going to jeopardize what the two of you have. He has to do this right, has to do things properly. He’s going to date the absolute shit outta you and there’s nothing you can do about it.

He likes it, really—hopping each little stepping stone that leads to more of you. Taking things slower than he has in ages, maybe ever. He knows, in the back of his mind, that if he flew into you at his usual gale force chaos, you’d accept him all the same. Because you’re good. You’re soft and sweet, and have turned his life into something golden and warm.

But you deserve more than his chaos. You were so gentle and vulnerable with him, and Adam—he wants to be the same way with you. For you. So he grapples with his impulses, shoving them down when they rear their ugly heads. He’s not gonna fuck this up, no matter how much his brain tries. And oh, does it try.

_______________________________________

For example, he almost tells you he loves you not two weeks into the course of dating you.

It’s not his fault, honest—or that’s what he tells himself. His feelings just like to…. overwhelm him. Endlessly.

See, he’d had a show—a play; one he’d been working on since before he’d waved at you in the bodega those months ago. You knew about it, sure. He’d talked about it (ranted about it) plenty of times. You always listened even if you had no clue what he was going on about, always gave him whatever he needed—whether that was being alone, or extra rehearsal time, or allowing him to flop into your couch and scream into the pillows.

Still, he hadn’t invited you to the opening night. Or any nights, actually. He was too nervous, as much as he hated to admit it—mostly about fucking things up if you were there. Honestly, the thought of you sitting, watching him, made his insides all… wriggly. And even if it was the good kind of wriggly, he’d be too hyper-aware of it, too distracted by it.

He feels guilty even if you don’t seem upset. You have brunch with him—yeah, he was doing fuckin’ brunch now. That shit was good—and then give him a goodbye kiss, telling him to “break a leg.” It makes him smile, and he insists on a couple more kisses, just for luck. And then he’s off to the final rehearsal before opening.

It goes off without a hitch, and Adam’s beyond elated—and relieved, and proud. As he scrubs off his sweat and makeup backstage, he can’t help but wish he had someone there to share his pride with. But he doesn’t have time to get into his head; there’s stupid fuckin’ rich people to schmooze outside, and the director had told him under no uncertain terms would he be in attendance.

Adam yanks on his tie as he makes his way through the theater’s halls towards the ballroom, not looking forward to the boring conversation and unnecessarily tiny food he had ahead of him. He tries to sneak his way through the crowded lobby area but it’s kind of difficult to be discreet with his sheer size—something that shouldn’t surprise him by now and yet does every single time. He forces out gentle smiles and humble “thank you’s” at the praise his performance receives, attempting to make his long legs work double time.

But then he spots something in his periphery. He’s not even sure what it is at first, really--just that it means something to him. It’s important. A flash of fabric as someone exits the large revolving doors, and there it is, that nagging in his head, that impulse. He veers off course without even thinking about it; fuck the schmoozing. Following that flutter of fabric, he shoves his way through the door and people, stumbling out onto the sidewalk. His dark eyes scan the busy street before landing on what his subconscious had been so attracted to.

You.

It stuns him at first, shocks him to silence--and not much can do that, if he’s being honest. You were here. Had you been here the whole time? Did you watch the whole thing? Were you just gonna leave? Adam thinks all these things at once, his mind a cacophony of noise, and suddenly he’s bellowing your name over the bustle of the crowd. He watches you jump, acknowledges the head turns he’s getting--he doesn’t give a fuck. You’re turning to look at him and he’s all but bounding over, zeroed in on you. You looked so goddamn gorgeous, the lights of the city casting multicolored glows over your skin.

“You’re here.” He says when he gets close enough, gaze bouncing all over you, not able to keep to one spot.

You give him a sheepish look, extending him just half a smile. “I… Yeah, I’m sorry. I wanted to come. I know you didn’t ask me to, but this show is so important to you and I--” You let out a small laugh, “--I wanted to support you, even if it was a secret?”

Adam’s chest fills with warmth, and his voice is noticeably quieter when he speaks again. “And you were just gonna leave without saying goodbye? What the fuck, kid?”

You shrug, but in a bashful way, not in a way where you’re blowing off his question. “Well, it wasn’t about me, you know? I wanted to be here for you, but until you were ready for me to be here, be here… I wasn’t wanting to, I don’t know--force your hand, or anything.”

And shit, if that doesn’t give Adam pause. He doesn’t think he’s ever had someone do something like this for him--support him without wanting something in return, without wanting recognition for their ‘good deed.’ You were giving him yourself even when he wasn’t around to acknowledge it or thank you for it. The words almost slip out of his mouth right then and there. I love you. It would be so simple.

They’re on the tip of his tongue, ready to tumble out in the open area between the two of you at a moment’s notice; he does the only thing he can think of to stop it from happening. He lunges forward, half yanking you to him as he slams his mouth down onto yours. It's… not as gentle as he intends, but he’s desperate, because the words are already leaving his lips in a muffled jumble. He’s kissing you on the crowded sidewalk like he’s fuckin’ starving for it, like he can’t breathe without it. Maybe he can’t. He sure isn’t stopping to find out.

“Adam--” you murmur into his mouth, and he grunts at you in response, which earns him a laugh. Your hands slip over his dress shirt, underneath his suit jacket, and he leans into your touch. You pull away from his lips, but press lingering kisses to his jaw, and Adam thinks maybe it’s an okay compromise. He wraps his arms around you, holding you close; says the only (other) thing he can think of--that he knows he has to get off his chest.

“I don’t wanna fuckin’ date anyone else. Don’t wanna kiss anyone else. Just you.” He makes sure to look at you when he says it, not caring how intense he comes across. If he can’t say that he loves you outright, he’ll do it in every other little way he can. “I wanna do boyfriend shit for you. Like—like make you canned soup when you’re sick and—and text you whenever I see a fuckin’ tree that reminds me of you.”

You smile up at him in that way that makes him feel ridiculously small and a million feet tall all at once. “Boyfriend shit, huh? Does that mean I need to start thinking of girlfriend shit to do?”

Adam nods briskly, but then pauses, his hands sliding up and down your back. “Only if you want to.” He tries to school his tone into something soft and neutral, trying to protect himself in case you say no.

But then you’re relaxing into his chest, resting your head over his thrumming heart. “I want to.”

He’s glad you can’t see his grin, and he holds you tighter to him, hoping you wont notice the way he’s literally fuckin’ vibrating with happiness. He wants to shout, wants to yell out at everyone passing by on the street. Hear that, everyone?! She’s my fuckin’ girlfriend now! Mine!! Ha!

“Do you wanna come back inside with me?” He asks instead, trailing his fingertips up and down your arm. “I have to go suck up to a bunch’a idiots so they’ll give the director some money. They might be willing to give more if I bring along some hot eye candy.”

You snort, pulling away from him; his gaze flits over your face, taking in your pleased smile and sparkling eyes. You were happy. He made you happy. It’s all he ever wants, really. You agree to coming with him, and he gives you his arm to hold onto as he escorts you back into the building, head held high with pride.

_______________________________________

Of course, it just makes things harder.

He’s swallowing down “I love you’s” left and fuckin’ right: when you pick him up from an audition and hand him a red gatorade. When you remember his lunch order from the café down the street. When you laugh at something dumb he’s said—a joke he knows isn’t that funny.

When, alternatively, you say Sackler in that exasperated-yet-fond tone whenever he’s said something annoying. When the two of you sit quietly in the living room together, each doing work, comfortable in the silence. When you pass behind him while he’s cooking and brush a gentle hand against his back, casual as can be.

He swallows the words down the first time he stays over at your place. It’d been an accident; he’d fallen asleep on the couch after getting back from an out-of-state visit to see his niece. He’d woken up in the morning to the smell of coffee, finding himself tucked under blankets. You’d come over when you saw that he was awake; brushed his hair out of his bleary eyes, said- “Good morning, sleepy head.”

He starts staying over a lot more after that, in your bed instead of the couch. Each time he wakes up next to you, wrapped around you, one of you half on top of the other—his chest fuckin’ aches. And still, his brain tells him to keep his thoughts to himself, to hold his feelings in his chest until the right moment. What’s the right moment? He asks himself. He never receives an answer.

It’s a torture he’s never experienced before and he doesn’t know what to fuckin’ do with himself. The first time you climb into his lap, tugging his jeans open, wrapping your perfect hands around his cock--all he can do is stare up at you, plush mouth hanging open, barely daring to breathe much less let the usual filth fall from his lips.

Because holy fuck, you’re so fuckin’ gorgeous, so perfect for him, and he’s pretty sure if he tries to say a single thing he’s going to let it slip. So he just yanks you close, biting at your lips, letting you swallow down his grunts and groans. He touches you everywhere--tries to let his hands do the talking for him.

He thinks he should probably tone down just how fervently he’s staring at you as he presses his thick fingers deep inside your pussy, but he has to see, has to know he’s making you feel good. “Tell me.” He manages to say, voice hoarse as he glances down to see your sticky wetness on his fingers before he pushes them back in, thumbing at your clit as he does so. “Tell me how it feels.”

You’re quiet but from your whimpers and whines, and Adam almost adds on a desperate please before you’re suddenly speaking, your words more of a babble as he works you. “F-Feels good, Adam, baby, feels so full. Can--can you--a little faster?”

A little faster? He can do that. He speeds up the motion on your clit, curling his fingers against that special spongy area inside as he pounds them in and out of you, brown eyes nearing black as he stares you down. “Like this?” he growls out, and instead of answering with words you let out a squeal, your hips jerking against him as your eyes roll back in your head.

Adam grins, breathless and feral. “Yeah. Like that, huh? Pretty girl.” The feeling of you cumming on three of his big fingers is enough to drag a long moan out of his chest; you’re so fuckin’ beautiful. “That’s it, doll, ride my fingers—good girl, so fuckin’ needy for me.”

You’re all clingy afterwards, clutching at him; he clutches right back, pressing his face into your shoulder, listening to you breathe. I love you, he thinks. I fuckin’ love you.

When you finally let him press his face between your legs one night, the words echo endlessly in his head. He’s lost in you, in the pressure of your thighs against his ears, your hands clutching at his shaggy hair, the way you clench so sweetly against his tongue. He rubs his face back and forth, smearing your slick all over himself greedily, sliding his nose up and down your clit. You let out an uninhibited, shuddering noise and he smirks, eagerly sucking at your folds.

He lets his eyes flick up to look at you, taking in the softness of your stomach, your heaving tits, the arch of your neck as you toss your head back against the pillows. He can’t see your face like this but he doesn’t fuckin’ care, not when he has the vision of you before him, your soft skin under his palms, the tangy sweetness of you in his mouth.

You cry out his name when you orgasm, your hips bucking against his face and Adam just goes along for the ride, using his hands to ease your frenetic movements. He spells it out with his tongue against your clit as you slowly come back down, blood rushing in his ears.

I - L - O - V - E - Y - O - U.

It’s a warm, early fall night when he fucks you for the first time, slow and deep, the bedroom windows cracked and letting in the nightly noise of the city. He doesn’t hear any of it--hears nothing but you and the sounds your bodies make together. There’s no rushing, no dirty words falling from his lips--there’ll be more than enough time for that later. Right now was about the slick slide of his cock in you, his eyes trained on yours, all wide like he’s surprised by this--shocked that any of its happening. In a way, he is.

Adam reaches out to settle a giant palm on your cheek, holding you, rubbing his nose against yours as he rolls his hips, muscles flexing under his skin as his back arches. He wants closer to you--closer, closer, and closer still--so he shuffles up the bed. It's a little awkward, but he doesn’t care, just as long as he can get deeper. You’ve got your knees hugging his hips, hands grabbing at his shoulder blades, making the prettiest noises in his ear. Adam, you say, and somehow his name has a thousand meanings in this moment. Adam, Adam, Adam.

Hearing it makes his toes curl up, makes him choke out a moan into your neck. “Fuck, I’m--I--” He fumbles for your face, breathing hot and heavy as he mouths over your skin to find your lips, kissing you sloppy to shut himself up. You’re clenching tight around his cock, a hand snuck down to rub quick little circles on your clit as you get close.

He doesn’t watch you as you cum this time, not when you’re pulling his own orgasm out of him, milking him for all he’s worth. He’s drenched in sweat, trembling as he sucks in shaky breaths. No thoughts fill his mind, head completely fuckin’ empty but for the pleasure humming through his veins.

You laugh afterwards, the two of you curled up together, Adam having collapsed to the side in an attempt not to crush you. He gives you a crooked grin of his own, sliding one big palm over your tummy, rubbing it as he slings a massive thigh over your legs. “Good?” He asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively as he starts to finger your belly button. You bat his hands away, calling him a fucking weirdo even as you lean in to capture his lips with yours. He nips at your bottom lip happily, smoothing his hand over your side, grabbing whatever part of you he can.

“Yeah,” he concedes, “-but I’m the fuckin’ weirdo you have custody of.” You smirk, and then you’re tugging on his shoulders, trying to haul him closer to you. You both need to shower--to clean up, probably drink some water, more than likely change the sheets. But maybe, he thinks to himself as he curls up half on top of you, nuzzling into your cheek--maybe it can wait for just a little longer.

____________________________________

“Fuckin’—ow!”

“Adam, stop moving around—“

“Well stop pulling my fuckin’ hair!”

You sigh at him, crossing your arms over your chest and giving him a hard look in the mirror. Adam pouts, slumping on the stool he was sitting on; he knew he was being whiny but his scalp was fuckin’ sensitive!

“You’re the one who asked me to braid your hair, remember?” You point out, grabbing another elastic from the countertop. “You practically begged me.”

“I didn’t beg.” He huffs, making a face at you. You don’t move, and he chances a look at his watch—fuck, he was gonna be late if this took too much longer. “… Fine, I’m sorry, I’ll sit still. Promise.” He chews on his bottom lip, giving you his best puppy dog eyes; he’s heard they were pretty effective. He’s pleased when you finally step forward, reaching up to comb through his hair again, pulling it out of his face and plaiting it across the top of his head.

He’s landed an actual honest-to-fuck movie role. A little indie film, sure, but it was still another stepping stone in his career. He was beyond excited, was putting his all into it—and, apparently, since his character was a boxer, that meant doing early morning training followed by choreography.

It was fine, really. He was enjoying it, and he liked learning a new sport, liked feeling the burn in different muscles of his body. It wasn’t that he was out of shape, it was just fuckin’ intense. Some days absolutely kicked his ass but he was always eager to come back for more. His trainer, Beth, said she liked that about him. It gave Adam a sense of pride about what he was doing.

It’s just that his damn hair kept getting in the way. It would get all sweaty, sticking all over his skin, flying into his eyes at the most inopportune moments. He’d tried to put it up into a ponytail but that hadn’t lasted long at all. Finally last night, after days of his complaining, you’d told him he just needed to braid it. I don’t know how to do that shit, he’d said, and you’d snorted, and here the two of you were.

“M’gonna be late.” He warns, leg bouncing up and down, jittery. He’d been on time—early, even—to every single session so far, and he didn’t want to break that streak.

“You won’t be late,” you murmur, twisting the tiny elastic around the end of the braid, making him wince just a little—he shuts his eyes against the sting. They have to be tight or they won’t hold, you’d said. Your hands sweep his remaining loose hair behind his ears, combing your fingers through it as you give your work a once over.

“I think they’re okay. They shouldn’t fall apart, at least. No more hair getting in your eyes.” You scratch your nails lightly at the back of his neck, a silent apology for the strain on his scalp, before moving to rub the shells of his ears between your thumbs and forefingers. Adam makes a small, pleased noise at the sensations, leaning back into your chest. He wants to stay here like this, with you, but he knows he can’t.

“How do I look?” He questions, eyes still closed. Your hands slide down the sides of his neck to rest on his shoulders, squeezing gently. He feels when you press a soft kiss to the crown of his head.

“Cute.” You tell him, and he can hear the smile in your voice. “Very pretty.”

He opens his eyes to meet your gaze in the mirror, wrinkling up his nose. “Cute?” You nod, and he shakes his head. “I can’t look fuckin’ cute while I’m boxing!” You just shrug, as if to say ‘well, what am I supposed to do about it?’, and then start putting up your supplies. Adam wants to keep on teasing you, but instead he hauls himself to standing, heading into the living room to grab his boots.

You trail in after him as he’s shoving them on his feet and perch on the edge of the couch to watch him. He speaks as he ties the laces, hyper-aware of the time even though the subway was only a couple minute walk from your apartment. “I shouldn’t be home late. Probably be back before you, even.”

Home. It only half registers that he says it, that he refers to your place as his. He doesn’t have time to worry about it now; besides, you only nod at him, like he hadn’t said anything out of the ordinary. He hops up, heavy feet stomping across the floor as goes to grab his trusty backpack. When he passes you on the way to the front door he drops a gentle kiss to your mouth.

“Thanks for my hair.” He says as he slips his arms through the straps of the bag and proceeds to pat his pockets, making sure he had everything he needed.

“Wait!” You’re crying out suddenly, making him freeze in place, looking at you with wide eyes. He watches you rush over to the fridge, digging in it for a moment or two; he gives his watch another nervous glance.

“Kid, what the hell…?” Adam scratches at the back of his neck, bouncing on his toes, ready to get out the door. When you shut the fridge, you’ve got two tupperware containers and a red gatorade in your hands; you hurry over to him, a small smile on your face.

“Here.” You tug him around with surprising strength, maneuvering him until you can unzip his backpack and put the plastic boxes and drink into the large pocket. “I made you lunch and some snacks. Don’t worry, it’s all protein. I know you always pack water but I wanted you to have more than that.”

Adam whips back around the second he’s allowed, his chest feeling warm and fluttery. He steals another kiss, one large hand on your jaw, nudging his nose against your cheek. Knowing he has to keep it short he pulls away, brushing his thumb over your chin as he does so. He opens his mouth to say something, but doesn’t really know how to express what your actions mean to him. When had you even packed that? Last night, while he was asleep?

You give him a gentle smile, nuzzling your face into his palm. “You better get going. You’ll be late.”

Adam exhales. You always gave him an escape route, and he always fuckin’ took it. “Right, yeah. Okay.” He steps back, grabbing his jacket from the coat rack. “Have a good day.” He yanks open the front door; when you speak again, your words are rushed, clearly not wanting to keep him.

“You too! Oh, can you pick up some bread on your way home?

“What? Oh, bread—yeah, sure—“ He’s stepping through the door, mind already focused on the day ahead. His hand finds the doorknob by muscle memory— “Sounds good, I can do that, love you!”—and the door slams shut behind him. He takes the stairs two at a time, his long strides getting him to the subway station sooner than he thought.

It’s not until he’s two stops down, staring blankly out the window as he stands in the crowded subway car, that he realizes what he’s done. Dread settles in his gut, heavy like lead, and his stomach twists. Fuck. Fuck! How could he have done something so stupid?

He wipes his palms on his gym shorts, feeling like they’re all clammy. He’d said ‘I love you’, tossed it to you like it was nothing. It wasn’t nothing! Fuck, what if you didn’t feel the same way? What if he’d ruined everything—pressured you somehow? Jesus Christ, well, guess it was time for him to leave the country. Or at least, move across town. New York was big enough to hide in, right?

He makes his way to the gym in a daze, his chest feeling all tight with anxiety. Getting into his routine is a struggle, and it frustrates him even more. Beth finally tells him to just have at one of the punching bags for a little bit, which does help loosen him up. Adam thinks it’s a tad ironic that imagining punching himself makes him feel better.

It’s not until he’s lumbering to the bodega to grab the bread you asked for, body aching and sticky with sweat, that he remembers you aren’t supposed to be home yet. He could sneak in undetected, plan an escape, or at least formulate some sort of explanation for his morning mistake. Though, he’s pretty sure saying “it was an accident, like when you were a kid and called your teacher ‘mom’” to his girlfriend wouldn’t bode well.

He knows he’s probably overreacting, but he’s never fuckin’ felt like this about someone before! He thought he’d known what love was; he thought he’d been in love in his past relationships. But he’s always said the words too fast, threw himself head first into the deep end. And yeah, he had loved them, in a way—cared about them, wanted them to care for him, too. But this? The all-encompassing affection and support you gave him? Your acceptance of him? He’s never had this before.

He’s never had someone want him fully as he is. And he wanted you the same way, loved every fuckin’ inch of you. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get enough of you; wants you by his side, forever. He feels so much that it scares him. And the thought of you not feeling the same, of you not wanting what he did—of his confession of love being something one-sided.

Adam was fucking terrified.

But he can’t run away. He knows he can’t. He always did, and always came back when it was far too late—when people were done with him. He won’t do that with you.

So he takes the steps up to your apartment one by one, trudging slowly, the loaf of bread held to his chest as if it would protect him somehow. He fumbles with the key in the lock, finally pushing through the door and kicking it closed behind him. Looking up, he freezes, heart leaping into his throat. There you were, sat on the couch.

“… I thought you’d be at work,” he says after a moment, swallowing down the lump in his throat. He forces his body into movement, numbly going to put the bread on the countertop before setting down his backpack and removing the empty containers from his lunch. He can feel your eyes on him even if he isn’t looking at you; it makes him hunch his shoulders up to his ears.

“I had a meeting get canceled,” you inform him, voice holding on to a certain edge even while your tone is light. There’s silence, Adam trying to pretend like he’s busy in the kitchen even though it’s pretty obvious he isn’t. “Sackler.” There’s that stern-yet-fond tone he loves hearing so much, and it’s impossible for him to ignore you. He chances turning around, giving you what he hopes is a blank look.

“Will you please come here?” You’re practically batting your eyelashes at him at this point, and his brain is telling him that you’re definitely up to something. But then, you’re standing up, and he registers you’re wearing his favorite tiny tank top—and nothing else—and he finds his feet tripping over to you before he can help it.

“Fuck, kid, look at you.” He breathes, hands reaching out greedily to grab at your tits, the softness of your hips, your bare ass. You laugh, pushing him down onto the couch, pressing your hand between his legs as you lean in to kiss him. He groans, bucking his hips up, already impatient. Shit, it would be so easy to just slip down the waistband of his shorts, yank you down onto his cock—

“Thank you for getting the bread,” you murmur against his lips, leaning over him, one knee on the couch. Adam lets out a strangled sort of laugh.

“This is because I got bread?” he asks, incredulous. You nod, and he still doesn’t believe you, but fuck, fuck, fuck, you’re pulling his hand between your thighs and his fingers are delving on instinct. You’re wet. Wetter than you normally are starting out like this. He swallows hard as he finds your entrance, as three of his thick fingers slip in easily.

“Fuuuuuhhck,” he groans, dark eyes flicking up to meet your gaze, “-you dirty fuckin’ girl. Did you get yourself all ready for me? Too eager for my big cock to wait?” He can’t help the grin that spreads across his face as you whine, your hands tugging insistently at his shorts. He’s quick to help you pull them down along with his briefs, the both of you scrambling to be connected.

The second you slide down onto his cock he’s throwing his head back, thighs straining as he tries not to thrust into you with abandon. “Always so fuckin’ good,” he bites out, jaw clenched and voice all gravelly. His hands find your hips, fingers digging into your skin as he prepares to guide you at a punishing pace.

But then one of your hands is finding his face, angling him to look at you while your other hand balls itself in his shirt—and fuck, he hadn’t even had time to get his shirt off yet.

“Adam,” you say, all breathless, clenching around his cock in a way that has him grunting in response, almost fuckin’ shaking with need. You say his name again as you tug on his shirt, pulling the fabric up his chest. He reluctantly lets go of your hips in order to help get the offending garment off his torso, but then he’s right back to you, hands squeezing your ass.

“C’mon, baby, need you to move. Need to feel this tight fuckin’ pussy riding me.” His voice is little more than a growl, and he pulls you in to crash his lips to yours before you can respond. He’s overwhelmed, needy, previous anxiety forgotten—he forgot most things when you were so tight and warm and wet around him.

He plants his boot covered feet on the ground and thrusts upwards, a broken moan leaving his chest as you gasp into his mouth. You plant your hands on his shoulders and he thinks finally, you’re going to give him what he so badly needs. But then you’re pulling away from him, settling into his lap like you had all the time in the world, a little smirk on your face.

“We need to talk, Adam.”

He stares at you, gobsmacked; his cock does a little twitch inside of you, like it’s as confused as he is. “Talk? Now?” You nod, resolute, and Adam let’s out a long, hot breath through his nose. “What,” he bites out, palms kneading your ass; he thinks maybe his eye twitches, “—do we need to talk about?”

“Did you mean it this morning?” Your voice is all quiet as you run your fingertips over his french braids, then down to curl his loose hair behind his ears. “When you said you loved me?”

Adam’s mind—so singularly focused on fucking you—grinds to a complete halt. He gapes at you, unable to come up with any sort of excuse, any sort of witty counter to your question. It’s then that he realizes what you’ve done, you little fuckin’ minx—you’ve weaponized sex against him!

You fuckin’ knew he wouldn’t be able to think like this. Maybe he should be mad, but he knows--he knows this is exactly what he needs. So he closes his mouth, swallowing hard and sliding his hands from your ass to the small of your back, holding you close.

“Yes.” It’s shaky, falling from his lips. He tries to make his voice more firm. “I love you.” And then, just to double down on it: “I’m so in love with you it scares the shit outta me. I love fuckin’—everything about you. I never wanna love anyone else ever again, not if it's not you.”

His heart is beating wild in his chest, and the pervy little part of his brain wonders if you can feel it through his dick. You lean in and kiss him all slow, squeezing your perfect fuckin’ pussy around him, and his hands move further up your back to pull you into him. He feels unsteady, like he’s jumped off a precipice into the unknown. He’s dizzy with the relief of his confession, with the worry of your reaction even as you kiss him, with the feeling of such a tight, slick, heat around his cock.

“I love you, too.”

He almost misses it with the way you murmur it into the corner of his mouth and with his head spinning from overstimulation. He blinks at you, giving you those big brown eyes and his jaw works as his mind catches up to speed. You smile, dropping more kisses over his strong features, then laugh when he finally yanks his head back to stare at you, his breath catching in his chest.

“You love me.” It’s not a question, but more of a confirmation; him reassuring himself that what he’d heard was real. You nod, hands smoothing over his broad shoulders, down his biceps. His eyes search yours as his hips shift underneath you, making you sigh happily. Something in him snaps.

He re-positions his feet on the floor, one of his hands gripping your hip and the other wrapped around the back of your neck. Your eyes widen, and you have a split second to balance yourself against his chest before he’s snapping his hips up, fucking into you at a frantic pace. The gasp you make is music to his fuckin’ ears.

“Say it again.” He growls at you, gaze drifting over your body, watching the way your tits bounce with his thrusts. “Say it.”

“I love you.”

Your words make him moan, and he doesn’t care how ridiculous he sounds. “Again,” he demands, voice ragged, and you obey—you say it over and over again until his mind is filled with it, the words a soothing balm for all his insecurities. You cry out, trembling in his lap, his cock deep inside you, and Adam is overcome.

He holds you there, the hand on your neck moving between your legs to rub quick circles on your clit. “I fuckin’ love you too, goddamn, this tight little pussy. You gonna cum for me? Cum all over my big fuckin’ cock?” He’s panting, staring you down, not letting you look away. “Fuckin’—say it when you cum. Please—please.”

You nod quickly, mouth hanging open, squirming so deliciously on his cock as your cunt gets tighter and tighter around him. He isn’t sure he’s even breathing, fingers moving desperately as you sob out his name, hips jerking in his lap. Your hands clutch at him, fingers raking at his chest as you chant I love you, I love you, the words all broken by your cries and whines. It’s fuckin’ beautiful.

“Fuuuuhhhhck.” Adam groans between gritted teeth, eyes rolling back in his head as your pussy squeezes his cock like it’s trying to milk him, like it’s begging for all his fuckin’ cum. He lets out loud, feral, shuddering breaths, trying to hold back—he isn’t done with you yet. “Oh, you feel so fuckin’ good, jeeeezus.” His words sound all strangled, and he has just the smallest bit of sense to wrap his arms around you when you slump into his chest.

Your breaths are short little pants against his neck, and he closes his eyes, savoring the feeling of them—of you in general, the weight of you on top of him, your sticky skin against his, your body heat. “I love you.” He croaks out, saying it again just because he can. You hum in response, nuzzling your face closer; it makes him smile.

He trails the pads of his fingers down your spine and then back up, feeling the texture of your skin. You were his. His to touch, to kiss, to hold, to love.

He was yours.

It’s a heady, hopeful thought that tastes like the future.

______________________________________________________________

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[telfordelle]

Naughty

Characters: Filip "Chibs" Telford x Y/N

A/N: I just had to get this out of my system, I guess. Also, here's a recipe for the Purple Nurple

Words: ~ 2.2k

Warning: Smut

You were in the Clubhouse, sitting in front of the bar. Nobody in the club knew that you two had something going on. You weren't sure why Chibs hadn't introduced you yet, but you were fed up with hearing his excuses over and over again. Therefore, you figured that it was time to provoke your man a little bit. You knew that the club was having a party this evening, so you decided to dress up and surprise your favourite Scot. Your black lacy lingerie was brand new, and he hadn't seen it yet. He was in for a surprise when he'd undress you this evening.

"Another beer, honey?" Gemma asked you. You nodded and thanked her after she had slid the beer over the counter to you. Gemma came around the bar and sat on the stool beside you.

"Is everything okay?" she wanted to know. You chuckled - Gemma had always been good at sensing your mood.

You had known Gemma since you were young. Her son Thomas had been your best friend in kindergarten and first grade. It had broken your heart when your best friend's health was getting worse and worse, and after his death, you had been devastated. From that time on, Gemma had taken you under her wing.

"Nah, it's nothing. Work's just a bit stressful at the moment," you lied, hoping that she wouldn't notice it. But of course, she would. After all, it was Gemma you were talking to.

"Honey, I know that this is not your 'my work sucks' face but your 'men problems' face."

You sighed. Why was she so good at reading you?

"You're right," you admitted.

"So, what kind of man is troubling you?" she asked.

"The kind who doesn't seem to be sure if he wants a serious relationship or not."

"What makes you think so?" she asked, "Did he say that directly?"

"We've been together for a while now, and I know that he’s the type to be in a serious relationship, but he doesn’t want to make it official and introduce me to his friends,“ you complained.

"Well, did you introduce him to yours?" She raised an eyebrow as if to prove her point.

"Gemma, that's not the point. I mean, he made it pretty clear that he isn't interested in that. So he probably also isn't that interested in me," you replied sulkily.

"Honey, maybe he just needs some time. Also, men can be pretty dense sometimes. You two should probably just talk it out, trust me. I've been with the most stubborn and dense men you can find in Charming," she said, laughing heartily. Hearing her laugh, you couldn’t help it and joined in.

"Well, I hope everything will work out in your favour. I'll see you later!"

You nodded and smiled at her. Talking to Gemma always lifted your mood.

You grabbed your beer, took a big sip, and looked around the Clubhouse. You were familiar with most of the club members, but as always, there were also some people you didn't recognize - especially the Crow Eaters. Sometimes you wondered if Chibs still hung around with some of them. Whenever you tried talking to him about making it official, he was blocking you. He said that he had his reasons, and at first, you believed him, but as the situation didn't improve, you got increasingly frustrated. And speaking of the devil, or rather, thinking of the devil, there he was.

You gulped, why was he so sexy? You took another sip of your beer, debating whether you should just go to him or leave the decision up to him. Mentally, you slapped yourself to stop staring at the Scot. To your displeasure, you found that others were also interested in your man. Fucking Crow Eaters. One of those bitches was clinging to the Scot, ogling him. You clenched your fists as soon as she started to caress his shoulder in a flirty way. Forcing yourself to look away, you exed your beer, giving the guy at the bar a sign that you wanted another one. Or even better, something stronger. You ordered a Purple Nurple, hoping that this one would numb your thoughts - and feelings.

Still, you couldn't help it and had to sneak a peek. And what you saw made you hold your breath. That bitch from before had her hand in your man's back pocket, and it seemed as if she was biting his earlobe. Instead of pushing her away, he was - grinning?

You saw red. Alright, two could play this game. It was time to take some action. You knew that Tig was always up for some fun, no feelings attached, so you made your way over to him.

"Hey, Tigger," you greeted him. You used the nickname because you knew that it would make Chibs furious - albeit knowing that he couldn't even hear you at this moment.

"Y/N, what's up?" he said, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

"Wanna dance?" you asked.

"Sure, babe," Tig replied, smirking. He took your hand and led you to the centre of the room.

You circled each other, gazes remaining locked. You knew that the other Sons were watching you, so you were fairly certain that Chibs' eyes would also be on you. Tig wiggled his eyebrows as you danced towards him, lewdly swaying your hips. You gently rested your hands on his chest. Slowly, your hands slid down his body as... you could hear someone clear their throat.

"Am I interruptin' somethin'?" that someone asked with a thick Scottish accent. You turned around and were greeted by an angry-looking face. Chibs nodded at Tig, who got the hint and excused himself.

"What's your problem?" you asked, knowing that the question would get him even more agitated. His eyes turned dark.

"You're mine," he growled.

"Well, last time I checked, you weren't willing to tell anyone about us," you snapped.

"Then it's time to change that," he replied, scowling.

"Oh, all of a sudden?" you retorted. You knew that you got what you wanted, but it still made you angry that you had to play the jealousy card.

"Lass, ye'r comin' wi' me," he said huskily. Chibs grabbed you by your wrist and pulled you with him towards the door. While being dragged away, you caught a glimpse of Gemma, who was smirking. Of course, she would connect the dots immediately.

Instead of going to his bike, he went for one of the trucks.

"Get in," he growled, holding one of the doors open.

"Why should I?" you replied, arms crossed in front of your chest.

"I'm not discussin' this wi' ye," he answered. You knew that both of you had done their wrongs, so you got in without another word.

The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife. You just hoped that you would get to your flat soon. Your eyes kept wandering to him. Did you finally fuck up? Was this the point of no return? All you wanted was for him to finally acknowledge you in front of the others. You sighed. You sighed. Finally, you arrived at your flat. He went straight for the door. Reluctantly, you got out of the truck. Had you pissed him off so much that he would end your relationship? Hands trembling, you opened the main entrance and went up the stairs. You could hear him follow you. Luckily, your apartment was on the second floor.

"I'm so angry wi' ye right now, I cannae put it into words," he snapped.
 "Tch, what are you angry for?" you huffed. 
He growled. "Ye'r MINE, lass." His eyes had a dangerous glint to them. If you hadn't been so angry, maybe you would have been turned on by now. Scratch that, you definitely were turned on. But you still had to stand your ground.
 "Yours, huh? Certainly didn't seem like it when that fucking Crow Eater was feeling you up. You don't even have the balls to tell the others about me! Maybe I'm just tired of waiting, Tig didn't seem to have a problem being seen with me in public." You looked at him challengingly.

And Chibs snapped. He saw red, thinking back about you dancing with Tig, touching him. He pinned you against the door and kissed you hard, wandering from your mouth to your neck. You moaned into his ear, which only turned him on even more. You could feel how hard he was, and you began stroking him through his pants.

"Bed," he growled while picking you up. But instead of just throwing you onto the bed, he sat on its edge and bent you over his knees.

"You've been bad, lassie," he murmured while grabbing your ass.

"Guess I have to punish ye," he drawled, accent getting thicker the more turned on he got.

"Lift yer ass," he said, tone demanding. You did what he said, and he immediately pulled down your shorts, taking in a sharp breath as he saw your new lingerie. It seemed as if your surprise was working. Frantically, he also took off your shirt.

"Ye look good. But don't think you'll get off your punishment just because of that," he hummed, rubbing you through your pants. You hissed - you were already wet. He began rummaging through the bedside cabinet where you stored your toys. He chuckled, which probably meant that he had found what he had been looking for. He blindfolded you and you could hear him opening a bottle. You shivered in anticipation. He pushed your panties aside and let two fingers glide between your buttcheeks, making them slick with lube. You gasped as he entered your hole.

"Relax," he murmured into your ear. You concentrated on his voice.

"Maybe this will help you," he said. Before you could ask him what he meant, he shoved something into your mouth. "Suck on it," he commanded. You recognized the shape as one of your buttplugs. You squirmed under his touch, excited for what was about to happen. Maybe you should be naughty more often if that meant that he would punish you this way.

He removed his fingers, only to replace them with the buttplug shortly after. You drew in a sharp breath.
"Ye like that, dinnae ye?" His thick voice made you even wetter, which he immediately noticed.

Still bent over his knees, he spanked you a couple of times. Each time his hand connected with your ass, a wave of pleasure surged through you. Blindfolded, every sensation felt more intense. You bit back a moan.

Sternly, Chibs told you to get on all fours and lift your arse. You could hear from the sound of his voice that he was annoyed with you. He was displeased with your behavior at the clubhouse. Now he had to make you behave again.

You heard him opening his jeans and sliding them down his hips. They fell to the floor with a thud. You were so wet, he would be able to slide into you at once. You bit your lip, and your hips rolled involuntarily at the thought of this. You needed some friction, right now. You needed HIM. You gasped as he opened your lips with the head of his hard cock, teasing you because he didn't immediately put it inside you. It felt like an eternity. Chibs ran the tip of his cock up and down your folds, making you long for more.

"Filip," you whimpered, begging him to finally fuck you.

"Don't come. I'm going tae fuck ye just a little 'n' slowly. Don't ye dare come before ah say so."

He thrust into you, at last giving you what you so desperately needed. Spreading your buttcheeks, he stroke over the buttplug with his thumb, making you moan out loud. Chibs leaned over you, bringing his hot mouth toward your ear.
 "Who's the only one allowed to touch ye?"


"Y-you," you barely managed to get out.

"What was that? Say it louder," he demanded. Why was his voice so sexy?

"You!" you cried out with pleasure.

"Good girl," he murmured into your ear before grabbing your hips and beginning to fuck you harder and faster. You were almost there, but he hasn't allowed you to come. You spread your legs wider, rotating your hips and meeting his movements. Your breath became short.

"Do ye want to come?" Not being able to form any coherent sentence, you just nodded.

Instead of answering, he took off the blindfold, flipped you over, and kissed you hard. His thrusts became more erratic. He brushed your hair out of your face and leaned his forehead against yours.

Your orgasm hit you like an earthquake, bucking your hips you enclosed Chibs with your legs, wanting to feel him even deeper inside you, be even more connected with him. He groaned and you could feel his cock twitching as he came, shuddering. He kissed you deeply, almost tenderly, conveying all his feelings for you.

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

Both of you were still shaking, as you snuggled up to him.

"When are we going to tell the others?" you wanted to know.

"Lass, I don't think there's a need to do that anymore - they already know now," he laughed.

You punched his shoulder, glaring at him.

"Alright, alright, I got the message. Tomorrow, okay?"

Well, you could live with that. Smiling, you cuddled up against him, never wanting to let go again, ever.

[jjungkookislife]

Secret ||PJM || Pt. 5: I’ll Be Good (M)

pairing: sugar daddy!jimin x sugar baby!reader

genre: smut, angst, some fluff

wc: 5.1k

warnings: [not in order] cursing, mentions about mental health (depression and anxiety), loneliness, daddy!kink, pet names (baby, baby girl, babe, good girl, doll, love), alcohol use/mentions, spit kink, choking, nudes, oral sex, nipple play, marking (hickeys, bruising, biting), hair pulling, thigh riding mentions, unprotected sex, mention of birth control, jealousy, possessiveness, creampie

date: March 31, 2021

The last thing Jimin wanted to be was stuck in a meeting with men who still didn’t trust him with the company, despite his great efforts. He made sure to keep his demeanor hard— frigid— refusing to allow them to see him as weak. It took a toll on him, a large heavy weight on his mental health, but he wasn’t going to dwell on that now because he had you to help him carry the burden.

You.

You were wonderful in his eyes. Smart, beautiful, funny, but that mouth of yours often got you in trouble. You liked to push his buttons, liked to rile him up to see how far he’d go. You were a brat at heart, but a princess at any other time when it suited you. He lov—he liked that about you.

Ever since he had first met you, he’d been drawn to you. He wasn’t sure if it was your smile, your laugh, or the way your eyes caught his at the bar of some party he couldn’t even remember the occasion of. You smiled at him, excusing yourself from the man that had been chatting you up. Jimin paid him no mind as you strutted toward him, head held high and your drink clasped in your perfectly manicured hand.

You were stunning. A true vision in your red dress that hugged your body just right. Your makeup was spectacular and as he eyed you shamelessly, you giggled. He knew he was gone then, more so when you smiled brightly at him, hand held out for him to bring to his lips to kiss as you told him your name.

Jimin repeated it, as sweet as a lullaby. Your hand remained in his after introducing himself, not wanting to let you fall through his fingers. He was the envy of every man in attendance that night, but a quick romp in the sheets wasn’t what he was looking for, and frankly, neither were you.

After the night of the party, Jimin contacted you. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking of you, fantasizing about all the naughty things he’d like to do to you... if you’d let him. You were eager, a pawn in his hand, ready to bend at his whim… for compensation.

You were a sugar baby. And definitely not a new one. You knew your way around, knew your worth, and knew when someone just wasn’t going to pay up. But Jimin would. Of course he would. Companionship, sex, and a pretty face with a personality that drew him in, keeping him on his toes… what else could he want? 

Now, although Jimin didn’t date or had the time to, honestly. He got laid pretty often, if he so desired. He’d had his share of flings, some lasting longer than others, but they all took off when he wouldn’t commit. He had no desire to, not when he had first taken over the company and not in the present either.

Jimin liked his life easy. Liked to spend time with his friends, do his hobbies (tennis, skydiving, swimming, and fucking) whenever he damned well pleased. 

Loneliness did creep in. Lonely nights of tossing and turning in an empty penthouse with nobody to share it with. Those dark thoughts consuming him, calling him back to bed when there was work to be done.

He was tired of it. Tired of feeling lost and alone, carving a hole in him that his friends just couldn’t fill, despite their best efforts.

Easily, Jimin agreed to your terms. He’d spoil you rotten, absolutely rotten in exchange for your companionship and sex. He didn’t need a girlfriend, just someone who could act the part without the commitment; the jealousy. Someone to fill the hole in his chest.

Your affection and friendship came with a price tag and some other suitors, suitors Jimin paid you to disperse off. You had put a fight to keep them, but money talked and those other daddies walked.

Jimin had smirked, sitting beside you as you cut off all your other sugar daddies. Some confused, some enraged, and some asking if you were okay. 

When he was your only daddy left, you’d smiled smugly. You’d crossed one leg over the other, ignoring the way your dress rode up your thighs, a peek of your panties drawing Jimin’s eyes as you said, “I expect the same from you. No other babies, no other women, just me.”

“You can’t be serious?” Jimin had gasped, his pouty lips in a frown.

“How bad do you want me?” You’d asked, crossing your arms under your chest to draw his attention to your breasts. Jimin had gulped, eyes wide as he licked his lips. You were a temptress, a seductress who knew how to play the game, and Jimin was at your mercy. He was your pawn and with your hand reaching for his belt, he knew he was doomed.

And doomed he was from the very start. He fell into the role very easily, thrived in it and still did. You were wonderful. A ray of sunshine in his otherwise gloomy days. He wasn’t sure how he lived before you; he was sure he didn’t. You were everything he could have ever wanted in a person and so much more, and when his friends loved you as well, he was set.

His baby. 

You were his baby and he would take care of you in any way possible, not just financially. He had bought you cars, diamonds, vacations, clothes, iPads, cell phones. You named it; he bought it. All you had to do was send a link, a screenshot, or simply point to it before it was in your hands. The more he got to know you, the more he found caring about you, wanting nothing but your happiness. He didn’t understand what he was feeling, and he didn’t think he was ready to understand it, if he was honest. So, he suppressed his feelings and did what he did best; spoil you with materialistic items. If only he knew you wanted him, and not his gifts.

Jimin looked down at his shoes, concealing the smile that tugged on his lips at the thought of you. He carded a hand through his hair, forcing himself to pay attention as the dull voices wore on and on. Time couldn’t go fast enough as he daydreamed about you waiting in his bed when he eventually got home tonight. 

It was the weekend. Maybe he could have you stay the night without you rushing out the door tomorrow morning. He liked when you stayed over, liked having you in his arms all night and being buried between your thighs in the morning.

Why were you consuming his thoughts like this? What kind of spell did you have him under? Recently he’d begun feeling… different around you. 

Jimin hadn’t been jealous since you cut off your other sugar daddies. He wanted you for himself and only himself. Mostly because it would be safer (no condoms and you were on the pill), but also, he didn’t want to share you with anyone else. You felt the same way, although you’d never admit it to his face. You’d rather choke.

Lately, these feelings—whatever they were—had made his head spin. He didn’t want to feel more. The thought alone sent him into a panic. But… he also didn’t want to end things. Could he be lying to himself? Sure. Most definitely, as his friends constantly reminded him. 

Feelings were dangerous. Feelings—especially one-sided—could cause the beautiful relationship you both had to crumble into smithereens. And then what would he have? Nothing. Not a damn thing if you weren’t in his life. He’d be lonely again. Miserable. A shell of a man like he was before he met you. 

Jimin would not go back to that. Not ever. He refused! And so with that, he buried his feelings deep in his chest, under lock and key. And nobody, not even you, was going to let them out.

“Mr. Park? Are there any issues you’d like to address or perhaps some questions?” One of the board members asked. Jimin looked at his assistant, “did you get all that?”

At the nod of her head, Jimin responded, “No, we’re all done here. I’ll see you next week. Dismissed.”

Jimin rose from his seat at the head of the table, passing by everyone to go out the door before they even had a chance to blink. His assistant was hot on his heels, with barely an inch of distance between them.

“Marissa?” Jimin stopped, his assistant halting in her tracks just before an impact could occur.

“Yes, Mr. Park?”

“Is anything on my agenda time sensitive? I’m suddenly feeling ill and would like to go home.”

Marissa looks at her tablet, scrolling through the rest of the afternoon. The sun would set within the hour, and Jimin’s most pressing meetings and appointments had been conducted earlier in the day.

“You have a call scheduled with your father. He says it concerns your brother.” Marissa informs him. Jimin rolls his eyes.  He knew that phone call could drag on, and frankly, he didn’t care to know what his younger brother was up to.

“Reschedule for next week. I’m sure he can wait,” Jimin waves his hand, popping into his office to grab his belongings before announcing his departure. Marissa calls the driver, alerting him of Mr. Park’s departure, and Jimin smirks as the doors of his private elevator shut.

It felt good to be the boss.

Jimin sat back in his limo, growing more inpatient as the minutes ticked by. You’d already sent him some racy photos, each growing more and more risqué until you were down to just your panties, back arched and fingers dangerously close to slipping into your panties.

‘I’m waiting, daddy.’

Jimin cursed, biting his lip as his building finally came into view. He wanted to devour you in kisses, consume every bit of you until you were writhing beneath him, hands pinned above your head as your pretty eyes locked with his.

“We’ve arrived, sir.” The driver stares down at his boss, who is just staring down at his phone, finally noticing his door has been opened and his driver is waiting for him to get out. Jimin immediately locks his phone, stuffing it into the pocket of his jacket before getting out.

“Thank you,” he says as he walks past him and into his building, greeting the doorman as he gets into the elevator. He swears it’s dragging today, but it could be his eagerness to get to you, knowing you’re waiting for him in his bed in nothing but a pair of flimsy panties is torturous.

Jimin rushes inside his penthouse, “Baby, I’m home.”

“I’m in here,” you call back as Jimin heads down the hallway, a smirk on his lips as he opens his bedroom door.  

He bites his lip. You’re a vision. A true vision as you lie on his bed, a teasing smile on your lips.

“I missed you,” you say softly as Jimin walks further into his bedroom. His hand begins to loosen his tie as he kicks his shoes off, ignoring how they clatter on his bedroom floor.

“I’m sorry I kept you waiting, princess,” he apologizes as he climbs onto the bed and you get on your knees, crawling over to him.

“Really? Are you going to show me how sorry you are? I’ve been waiting such a long time, daddy. I almost had to take care of myself,” you pout, your hand tightening his tie, eyes hard. Jimin licks his lips, his hand wrapping around yours before he’s caressing your face.

“Is that so?” he asks, moving his hand to undo his tie. He holds the black silk in his hands, twining it as he looks at you, his eyes drawn to your bare breasts.

“Very. It’s not nice to keep me waiting,” you whisper as you inch closer, lips pressing a featherlight kiss to his neck. Jimin swallows thickly. You quickly work your way through the buttons of his shirt, untucking it from his black slacks. You push his jacket off his shoulders, letting it crumple on the floor.

Jimin raises a brow. You ignore it. Your lips are planting kisses on every inch of his neck, pushing his shirt down his arms. You feel his bicep, looking up at him with a grin before he’s pulling you to him. You gasp, your chest pressed against his as he threads his fingers in your hair to pull you into a deep passionate kiss that has you moaning into his lips.

“Jimin,” a sigh of his name has him grunting, eyes wild as he kisses you once again, pushing you onto your back. You giggle, loving how he sloppily kisses your face and neck.

“Jimin! Jimin!” you exclaim, giggles filling his bedroom as you look up at him. Jimin feels his heart skip a beat, cheeks tinted pink as he grins widely at you, “am I forgiven, princess?”

“If I say yes, will you stop slobbering on my face?” Jimin smirks, his hand wrapping around your throat, squeezing the sides. You gasp, moaning and melting under him. 

“Open,” you do as instructed, sticking your tongue out for him. So obedient. Such a good girl for him.

Jimin releases your throat, a mischievous gleam in his dark eyes as he squeezes your cheeks. He spits on your tongue, releasing you, “swallow.”

You do.

“Fuck,” Jimin curses, carding a hand through his hair. You stick your tongue out again for him, watching as he undoes his belt, tossing it to the floor carelessly. He straddles your hips, leaning in to kiss you, his tongue twining with yours. He grinds down on you, swallowing the dulcet moans that escape you as your hands weave in his hair, tugging at the locks. Your hips meet his, feeling his erection with every roll of your hips. Your panties are soaked, utterly ruined as you beg him to touch you… to fuck you.

Jimin smirks, pressing a kiss to your kiss-swollen lips to silence you. His lips trail downward to your jaw, down to your neck where he nips and suckles at the sensitive skin as his hands cup your breast, thumbs circling your pert nipples before it’s his tongue swirling around them. Teeth gently nipping your nipple, your back arched into him as he palms himself over his slacks.

“Tell me,” Jimin starts as he rises, one hand palming his dick, the other kneading your breast. “What did you do while I was gone, doll?”

“N-nothing,” you answer honestly. Your body is heated, sweat beading at your hairline, thighs pressed together as your panties stick to you obscenely.

Jimin looks into your eyes, his hand moving over your chest. He can tell when you’re lying, having figured it out right from the start. Simple little tells: lack of eye contact, biting your lip and a racing heart.

Grinning, Jimin brushes his lips against yours, “good baby.” You preen at the praise, smiling bashfully before his hand is unbuttoning his pants, tugging the zipper down as he climbs off of you to pull his pants down the rest of the way. He takes a second to remove his socks, knowing you don’t like them on during sex.

Jimin shoots you a knowing smile as you sit up on your elbow, hungrily admiring his body. He was sin incarnate. Perfectly sculpted from his strong shoulders and neck down to his thighs that you just loved to ride until you were nothing but a creamy mess. The thought makes you clench, licking your lips as you crawl toward him, getting off the bed. Jimin eyes you curiously, slightly amused when you drop to your knees in front of him.

You look up at him, resting your weight on your heels as you lean back. Jimin can’t resist you, running his thumb over your lips.

“So pretty,” he whispers, hand cupping your cheek. You lean into his touch, feeling soft and secure. Warmth overwhelms you as you maintain eye contact, swallowing thickly. “So, so pretty.”

“Jimin,” you whine, your hand resting on his. You look at his cock, licking your lips. It’s straining against his boxers, pre-cum staining the material; it makes your mouth water. “Please?”

Jimin knows he’s putty in your hands, that look alone is enough for him to buy you the world, hell maybe the universe. How can he ever say no to you, his princess?

“Sure, baby.” That’s all you need to hear as your tongue laps at his boxers. Jimin is surprised but his fingers thread in your hair regardless, tugging gently as a warning not to tease. He’s been hard since this afternoon and the last thing he wants to be is teased. He aches to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around him, your nose pressed to his pelvis. 

You tease the head of his cock through his boxers, earning a tug of your hair before you’re pulled back. Jimin’s heated gaze sends a tingle down your spine, “baby.”

A simple warning, one that has you pulsating as you lick your lips, hand reaching for the waistband of his boxers, tugging them down his muscular thighs before they pool at his feet and he kicks them away. 

A curse escapes him when your lips wrap around him, your tongue swirling around the head as your hand strokes him. Jimin groans at the feeling. He could never grow tired of you. 

Jimin caresses your face when you pause to look up at him, “so pretty.” You grow flustered, ignoring the way your cheek heat as you begin bobbing up and down instead, making him moan and groan instead of complimenting you. Your plan works, Jimin overcome by the pleasure your sweet lips provide as you suck harder, sloppier, gagging on his big thick cock, hoping your throat won’t get bruised once again. You didn’t want to go through that embarrassment at the dentist again.

“That’s it, baby. Fuck,” Jimin grunts, your name spilling from his lips as he tugs on your hair, guiding you and setting the pace. “You’re so pretty when you’re choking on my dick. So good for me.”

You deep throat him, loving the sinful sounds that tumble from his pretty lips. His head lolls back, eyes fluttering shut as utter bliss crosses his ethereal features. Moans of your name, curses, grunts, and praises escape his lips as he praises you to the high heavens as his cock sits heavy on your cock, lips sucking the soul out of him.

A whine falls from your lips when you’re tugged off his cock by your hair, your adorable confused gaze meeting his cocky one. 

“Up,” he commands as you rise to your feet. He kisses you, his tongue meeting yours as you grip his biceps to hold your balance as he kisses you passionately. Arousal pools deep in your abdomen, body fueled with lust.

“Daddy, please.” Jimin chuckles, kissing his way to the column of your throat, nipping at the skin. A moan of his name rolls off your tongue as he wraps your legs around his waist to take you to his bed. 

Jimin sets you down with care, having you lie back as he climbs over you. His lips brush against yours, a featherlight kiss that has butterflies fluttering in your tummy. His hand cups your face, saying nothing as he admires your body. You were aroused, panting and aching for him. Nobody else. Just Jimin. 

The soft look you give him is what sends him over the edge, kissing you roughly as he holds you tight. Maybe… just maybe, you could love him. Love him the way he’d deny loving you. You were everything for him, but was he to you? He didn’t want to think about it right now, not when you were wet, ready, and his cock was throbbing, leaking pre-cum.

“Jimin…” your hand cups his cheek, his dark eyes flitting to yours. 

God, he loved you.

“Please,” you whisper as your hand moves down to his neck and then his chest. Jimin swallows thickly, nodding as he takes your hand in his, fingers laced together as he pins it by your head, earning a gasp from your pretty lips.

With one last squeeze of your hand and fleeting kiss to your lips, he moves down your body. He wants to mark you as his, leave love-bites on your skin for the world to see but he resists if he wants to keep his plans for tomorrow.

Jimin’s fingers toy with the waistband of your panties, tugging them down to suck a tiny mark on your hip. You roll your eyes, but you love the slight possessiveness.

“I’m yours,” you assure him regardless. It works. Jimin presses a kiss on the mark, gently tugging your panties down your thighs, you lift your hips to aid him. He tosses them over his shoulder to be forgotten.

His hands immediately grab your thighs, spreading them.

“Fuck, so wet for me. All for me,” Jimin licks his lips, looking up at you. You resist the urge to cover your face as he kisses his way up your thigh until he’s pressing a gentle kiss to your clit. A sigh escapes you, making him smirk before he’s diving right in. Your hands seek purchase in his sheets, fisting them as he works wonders on your cunt.

“J-Jimin,” you stutter, hand embedded in his thick locks, hips rising from the bed to chase after his tongue. His hand pushes you back onto the mattress while he continues to feast on you, one leg thrown over his shoulder as his fingers slip right in, curling and scissoring inside you. His tongue flicks your clit, swirling in circles before his lips are suckling it. 

You arch, crying out for him over and over again. Sweat beads between your brows, a sheen of sweat appearing on your body as you writhe beneath Jimin, wanting to crush his head between your thighs. 

Jimin looks up at you, watching as pleasure overwhelms you, his fiery tongue the source of all your curses and pleas. Your hands cup your breasts, rolling your hard nipples between your fingertips as you cry out, “Jimin… Daddy… I can’t!”

Your body is overwhelmed with pleasure. Your skin is hot, flushed as you feel the knot in your stomach tighten before you cry out, “I’m coming! Fuck!”

Jimin doesn’t stop his ministrations, continuing as you fall over the edge. His name rolls off your tongue in a mantra, eyes squeezed shut and the sheets fisted in your hand once again as you arch your back. Jimin waits until you’ve fallen slack before he slips his fingers out of you, placing them in his mouth, tongue swirling around them as he sucks them clean.

“Feel good, princess?” Jimin asks, a smirk on his lips.

“Mmm,” you murmur, your eyes still closed as you try to regulate your breathing.

Jimin chuckles, “you good, love?”

“More than okay,” you answer, sitting up to crawl over to him until you’re straddling his lap. Jimin’s hands immediately grip your hips, your lips pressing against his. Your arms wrap around his neck, keeping him from going anywhere. 

Jimin buries his face into your neck, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin as you line him up at your entrance, sinking on to him when he least expects it.

“Baby, fuck,” he grunts, his forehead falling onto your shoulder as you hold him close while he finally bottoms out. You bite your lip, groaning at the stretch that has your eyes fluttering shut, nails digging into his perfect muscular back.

Hesitantly, Jimin looks at you. Three words sit heavy on his tongue as you stroke his face, biting your lip as you roll your hips. Your eyes flutter shut, your hand falling to his shoulder, moans of his name filling the space between your bodies. 

“Y/n,” your name is a delicate whisper, his hold on you tightening, swallowing the heavy words instead. He kisses you, losing himself in you instead. Lust is easy, lust he can deal with. That’s all this is, he lies to himself once again as you ride him. 

You hold Jimin close, fingers threaded in his hair, tugging it to make him meet your gaze, “you always fuck me so good, baby. So, so good.”

“This tight cunt is all I can think about at work. You’re such a fucking distraction but coming home to you waiting on my bed wet and horny is so worth it,” Jimin kisses you, tongue pushing past your lips before he’s rolling you over so he’s on top.

“Jimin,” you moan, his thrusts hitting all the right spots. 

“On your knees, baby.” You do as you’re told, getting on your knees and arching perfectly for him. Jimin smacks your ass, mesmerized by the way it jiggles. He smacks it harder, your cry of his name making his cock throb in his hand as he strokes it before lining himself up at your entrance, grunting when the thick head of his cock is welcomed into your cunt.

“Fuck,” you curse, face in the pillow, turning your head to the side. Jimin grabs your arms, putting them behind your back, wrists crossed together as he holds them with one hand while he fucks into you. His head is thrown back, saccharine moans escaping him as you fuck back into him, moaning when his fingers rub at your clit.

“That’s it, baby girl. Fuck, you feel so good..” Jimin bites his bottom lip, a poor effort to try to muffle the moan that threatens to escape his pretty lips. His eyes roll back, overwhelmed by the warmth and wetness of your cunt. Your sweet moans fuel him, consume him as he pistons in and out of you to coax more of those dulcet moans from your lips. His hand moves to raise you, wrapping around your throat. Your eyes flutter shut, melting into his touch as he squeezes. 

“Jimin,” you rasp, overcome with pleasure as he continues to rub at your clit. You shutter, your hand wrapping around his wrist, nails digging into his skin. Jimin grunts, kissing your cheek as he grinds his hips into you, slamming them when you cry out that you’re close.

“Come for me, princess. Please,” his angelic voice has you pulsating, doing as he’s asked as you grip his wrist and come. Jimin moans, lips planting kisses on your shoulder before he’s biting down and coming with you.

“Jimin… Jimin!”

“Oh, fuck. That’s it, love. Come for daddy,” Jimin moans, eyes shut and lips parted as he moans your name repeatedly, filling you with cum until you’re unable to hold yourself up. Jimin chuckles, lying you on your back on his bed before he lies beside you.

“Fuck,” you giggle, pushing your hair out of your eyes as Jimin takes the chance to kiss your sweat beaded forehead. You grimace, “gross, I’m sweaty.”

“I don’t care, princess.” Jimin covers your face in kisses, making you laugh until you’re pressing your palms on his chest to push him away. 

“Jimin!” You squeal, kissing his cheek before cuddling up to his side. He kisses your temple, holding you for a few minutes before he’s pulling away from you to get you some water and lead you to the bathroom to help you get cleaned up.

You end up taking a quick shower, exchanging kisses and lingering touches before you’re wrapped up in a towel in his bedroom. You’ve brought your own clothes to sleep in, but you take one of Jimin’s baggy shirts instead, climbing into his bed while he puts on a pair of boxers.

“Go to sleep, baby. We’ve got plans tomorrow,” he tells you as you snuggle into your side of the bed, pulling the comforter up to your chest.

“Goodnight, Jimin.”

“Goodnight, princess.” Jimin whispers, caressing your cheek before you close your eyes. He watches you until he’s sure you’re asleep, hoping you can’t hear how loud his heart beats.

The morning sunlight streams in through the cracks between the curtains, the light stirring Jimin awake. He sits up, rubbing at his eyes with his hands until all he can see is black dots before his eyesight settles once again. 

Beside him, you’re still sleeping, clutching the pillow to your chest. He sits up, admiring the serene look on your face as you snooze away beside him, so comfortable, stress free. 

Jimin’s heart thunders in his chest when you stir, rolling over and seeking out his hand with yours. He easily gives it to you, squeezing softly when you settle soundly. 

As the world outside begins to wake, he can’t help but want to stay in this bubble the two of you have created in his home. Nobody to bother you, nobody hounding you to do this or that. Nobody to disturb your utopia. 

Jimin caresses your face, his delicate touch makes you moan softly as his fingers push your hair out of your eyes. He stares at you freely, admiring your features. You were beautiful. The most beautiful woman he’d ever seen, and it still baffled him how you’d agreed to this arrangement. He knew he couldn’t give you more, and on days like today, he desperately wished he could. But what would that get him? Get you? A broken heart and the loss of his best friend? He couldn’t risk it. Wouldn’t risk it. Money was easy. Money came and went, but you stayed regardless if money appeared in your account at the end of the day. That scared him.  Why would you stay?

“If we’re having a staring contest, you gotta wake me up first, Minie.” Your voice startles him, his hand hastily pulling away from your face as you sit up. He hopes you can’t see the pinkness in his cheeks or the embarrassed smile on his lips. 

“Way to ruin the moment,” he laughs, shaking his head, and your heart skips a beat when he gives you his radiant smile. 

“I didn’t know there was a moment to ruin, baby. I’ll close my eyes and you can keep staring at me,” you giggle, rolling over and shutting your eyes. Jimin settles behind you, draping his arm over your waist before you wiggle into him. 

“I hate you,” he jokes, kissing your temple. 

“Mhm, your cock is way too hard for you to lie about that,” you smirk, wiggling further into him. 

“Shh,” he chuckles deeply, kissing your cheek, moving your hair out of the way to kiss your neck. 

“Show me how much you hate me, Min,” you goad him, turning to face him. Your eyes lock on his and Jimin can’t help but fall for you even more. He wonders if it’s obvious to you like everyone else? He wouldn’t dare admit it out loud, not to himself and certainly not to you. You were destined to fail, and who was he to stand in the way of destiny?

“Lie back, princess. Let me get a taste of you.”

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[headcanonstation]

Phantom Thieves S/O has palace

Ren Amamiya

Breaks his heart to find you have a Palace

Ren figures it out because of how you may have been acting. That or curiously getting to him to put your name in the nav

Apologies in advance, he isn’t gonna be reaching out too often as he’ll be putting way too much focus into preparing to infiltrate 

During this time there will be no Mementos trips 

If he can help it, there won’t be a day they aren’t going in until your Palace is taken down

Though for him personally, he doesn’t care how tired he may be. He is gonna go in

Odds are its getting dealt with in about a day or really close to that

It does kind of scare him on the why you have a Palace

What gets to him is he feels like he should have seen the signs. Feels like that maybe he could have prevented it or at least curb the development of it

Exploring the place is the actual worst to him he isn’t having a very good time

Ren will be kind of more quiet while in the Palace. Looking more focused

But he may be a little more “impatient” as it were

Ren really, really does not like running into your shadow

Has fingers crossed they don’t have to fight your shadow, but if they do he is gonna hate it

Gonna act as more of a support unit if they do have to fight said shadow

Regardless if you know he is a phantom thief or not, he is gonna write the calling card. And he is gonna drop it off to you. {In your mailbox, locker, under your door. Etc. He isn't going to directly hand it to you, again regardless if you know of him being a phantom thief}

Ryuji Sakamoto

The thought never occurs to him, almost believing it be absolutely impossible for you to have one

He is not gonna be the one to put your name in, regardless if he notices you being off your A-game. Someone else is gonna be doing it

Ryuji can’t help but wonder why you have one. Again, he found it be impossible for you to ever have one. So he is pretty curious as to why it happened

Whatever the reason is for the development of the Palace, he swears he is gonna knock it out of the park

He definitely gets impatient during infiltrations and downtimes

Kind of becomes pretty prone to getting into trouble and pushing forward which results in his friends going “oi slow down”

Also becomes a little more impatient 

Unlike Ren, Ryuji becomes more talkative during the exploration. Asking things like if they are closer, if Mona can sense the treasure, where exactly they are, what is the next course of action- you get me

He seems to have an “easier” time powering through any exhaustion he is having and practically demands to be on the frontlines at all times

Makes sure all his hits, hits harder

He has a huge need to know what your treasure is, further adding to his impatience

Will write the calling card, with help from Makoto

If you know he is a phantom thief {yeah,,,,,,"if"}, he hand delivers the card to you

If they have to fight your shadow, Ryuji does okay. He doesn't do the absolute best and his attacks may actually miss a lot

Ann Takamaki

She immediately has a need to know if anyone is connected to you having a Palace

She just wants to talk

Ann is a lot like Ryuji where she did not enter your name in the Nav, not wanting to see an answer at all pop up. The only difference is she knew it could be a possibility. It was not impossible to her if you had one- just unlikely 

Ann can’t help but think about the what if of the thieves finding you in Mementos. Able to stop you there and prevent a Palace from developing further

She just finds herself thinking how she could have helped prevent this, if at all. Playing scenarios in her head of helping you before it got this bad

But this is no time to wonder, this is the time to help you

Inside the Palace, she doesn’t act far too differently. Outside of it though, she becomes kind of pushy to go into the Palace

When it comes to you, she finds herself trying to spend time with you- more than usual

She doesn't like the Mementos trips during the time where you still have a Palace. While it's nice to help other people- you need her help right now

No matter what your Shadow is like, she swears she is gonna take them down

She promises to herself that no matter how much it hurts her, she isn't going to hold back on your shadow. After all, it's not exactly easy to attack something that resembles/represents you

Really would rather not see the calling card at all

Yusuke Kitagawa

His first thoughts are the fears that its alike to Madarame’s

He isn’t sure he can handle that

As such, he is pretty nervous about the whole thing

Upon finding out though its nothing like that, if anything more like Futaba’s, brings him a wave of relief

If he were to be honest, being in your Palace frustrates him

Not only does it frustrate him, but it hurts him. Especially as they go further and further into their exploration

You don’t deserve to have to be dealing with this and the burden this thing probably brings to you

Kind of like Ryuji, he just thought nothing like this would come to pass for you. At least, so as long as he was there with you

During the Palace, he is more reserved

A lot like Ann, he is kind of pushy with going into the Palace. Not nearly as much as Ann, but it’d be a lie to say he doesn’t at all try to push Ren into going in sooner

Seeing your Shadow actually angers him, more than anything. Because this isn’t you, but a distorted version of the person he cares about

But Yusuke remains relatively calm

During downtimes while they aren’t in the Palace, he will be trying to seek you out and keep you company- regardless if you know what is going on

Insists to be the one to write the calling card, there are no exceptions 

I would argue he is one of the more aggressive thieves when it comes to fighting your shadow. He holds absolutely nothing back and is ready to fight

This isn’t you and he wants to get rid of your shadow as fast as possible

Makoto Niijima

She audibly gasps

However, she can’t bring herself to bring it up for a short bit. Its not that she doesn’t want to, but it becomes more real whenever it is she mentions it

She ends up bringing it up after seeing you again and again. Knowing the toll a Palace can take on a person, she knows she can’t just ignore it

Part of her wonders if she is any part of the cause. She hopes not, but it worries her that what if she plays a part in your Palace

She tries to remain composed both in and out of the Palace, trying not to show any signs of struggling with the idea of it

When around you, she gets kind of awkward 

She’ll promise to you that she will be there for you, through thick and thin. Which to you may come out of nowhere, but Makoto feels a need to say it

Its when Makoto sees your shadow that it really, really hits her about the situation

Still, she tries to remain composed but internally she is just having a marathon if emotions

Makoto helps in creating the calling card and will hand it off to you should you know of her being a phantom thief

If not she will put it in a normal envelope and give it to you, saying simply it was addressed to you and not much else

Maybe even sneak it into a book your reading or in your locker

Fighting your shadow at first will have her be a deer in the headlights, but her friends will snap her out of it

Which will help her find new strength when it comes to taking down your shadow

Futaba Sakura

Curiosity kills the cat, and it killed Futaba upon entering your name in the nav

She figured if anything popped up, it would be just be a Mementos trip. Not something as extreme as a Palace

Her first thought was how long have you had this?

Futaba first brings it up to Ren before anyone else

She knows this is more of a personal Palace to take care of, but they have to help you

She had one of these things and she’ll be damned if she lets this go ignored

Futaba admittedly would rather it just be her and Ren, again seeing as this is more personal. However, this is a little more extreme than a simple field trip to Mementos, so that isn’t a viable option

Her nature ends up very serious, focused and a little hurt. She won't have snarky comments to hand out. She won’t really have any upbeat cheer in her voice either

Futaba is going to be going overdrive to help the thieves get rid of the Palace faster

Will be more subtle in pushing the idea of going into the Palace during downtimes. She isn’t going to be aggressive in it, more so just making it clear she would really like to get back in asap

She wishes she could do more while they are exploring the place

During time outside the Palace she will be in constant contact with you. Asking if your okay, if anything happened, if you need to talk, etc

Seeing your shadow will kind of have her wince, but outside of that it only fuels her further to steal your treasure

She doesn’t do anything when it comes to the calling card. She just demands to see it before it sent to you

Haru Okumura

She’s ready to go guns blazing just say the word

Haru would probably be the most worried when it came to the whole Palace infiltration

After all, last time they did this with someone she cared about they kinda died

So yeah she is a little on edge on the that “what if” even though she knows it wasn’t their fault

Regardless of her unease though, she’ll put her best face forward and try to remain optimistic 

There may be times during the Palace where she lets her emotions get to her

At first she was worried of what your Palace was and why it even existed. You weren’t a bad person,  so why in the world do you have one of these?

Honestly, overall you could be forgiven thinking she wasn’t too anxious about the whole thing. Because on the outside she doesn’t seem too bothered, but trust me she is having a time internally

She vows to herself they are going to take care of this for you and she is not going to let anything bad happen to you from this infiltration. She swears it

Seeing your shadow doesn’t seem to do anything to her, if anything it prompts her to try and further figure out the why question

Haru requests if she can give you the card, especially if you know she is a thief. Regardless, she promises things will work out

She is merciless when it comes to fighting your shadow? Way more than what anyone was expecting from her?

[snifflesthemouse]

A Letter To Harry

Dear Harry,

My name is Nunya Business. I just want to take the time out of my life to clue you in on something I had to learn the hardest of ways. If my life lessons can save you the pain and suffering I went through, while indirectly saving the rest of us the pain and suffering from hearing about your pain and suffering, so be it. Let me begin.

You see, Harry, my mom died when I was 25. She was 47. She was bedridden the last ten years of her life. So that means she was permanently confined to a hospital bed for ten solid years, beginning when I was 15. That also means I watched her die slowly for ten years. By the time I was 16, I was trained in wound care management. I was also working 40+ hours a week at a fast-food place and attending school whenever I could. Even though I missed a lot of school, I still carried straight As. I always had great grades in school; I was getting scholarship recruitment letters by the time I was 15. I was brilliant. Still yet, I dropped out of high school by the second day of twelfth grade.

Unlike the traumatic lifestyle of servants and wealth, I was brought up extremely poor. The state paid for our school clothes through clothing vouchers. My dad worked a full-time job from the time he was sixteen until he retired AFTER my mom died. But my mom never held a job, drove a car, got a GED or photo ID, and missed out on a lot of living. So, he was the only source of income until I was old enough to help with the medical bills. He was 18 years older than she was. He only kept working after he reached retirement age because she needed insurance, but I digress. Back to the poor me part of my letter.

Here I was. Sixteen, early into my budding painkiller addiction, working full time, essentially homeschooling myself, taking care of my mother, AND still hoping I could make it out of there. SPOILERS: I DIDN’T MAKE IT OUT OF THERE. You know why? I played the same hand you play now. The poor me, poor me, pour me cards. I started taking my mom’s pain pills for my migraines. One didn’t really go full blown migraine on me one day, and I got high. By the middle of my tenth-grade year, I was having four Percocet tens and a chocolate milk for breakfast. For lunch I had a nap after fighting in and out of nodding off high for the first four periods. Eventually, that drug addiction got insane out of hand. I went from prescription pain killers to shooting heroin within 5 years. I went from never having a detention to having a felony credit card fraud charge and ten years over my head. I didn’t have old money to buy my excuses. I went to prison.

Unlike you, Harry, I wasn’t able to go to immaculate rehabs or have my family bail me out of trouble. I wasn’t able to do hard drugs and become a binger alcoholic behind the scenes, then just “quit” without issue. Something tells me neither were you. I’ve met a ton of addicts and alcoholics. Both say the same. After a month of the same nonsense, the addiction was rooted. So please explain to me how you managed to escape the severities associated with heavy drug use and drinking without withdrawing or getting hooked. Seriously, because you’d be the first person impervious to addiction. Most all of us have to fight the fight of our lives to get and stay clean. I know, I’ve managed almost 6 years now. What about you?

No, like us regular folk, I had to go about sobriety the long, hard route. But of course, it cost waaayy more than you’d ever understand.

Your partying days in Nazi uniforms didn’t cost a thing compared to how much they can cost regular people. By 17, I was already shacked up with a psychopath ten years my senior who literally ended up killing my childhood best friend’s fiancé. Not even exaggerating. My ex killed my ex-best friend’s fiancé in the living room of the house I grew up in, in front of my mom and dad. A month before my mom died, actually. My ex-boyfriend did some major fuck shit to me, and I have a history of dating abusers, but I won’t get into that. Just know 50 Shades isn’t sexy to me and hearing old country music instantly makes my face hurt from getting full beer cans chucked at me… Oh and ya know what, Harry? Turns out if I kept dating psychopaths who hit me… the real problem wasn’t who I was dating. It was ME. But again I digress. Sorry Harry.

I lost my friend who was murdered by my ex at my parents’ home a month before my mother died and two months before I was sent to prison. I struggled with addiction from the time I was 16 until my last relapse 3 July 2015. I dropped out of high school because of my drug addiction, then dropped out of college after getting my GED and a scholarship. 

My mother first introduced me to pain pills. She didn’t realize what she was doing and all, but she just thought she was helping her daughter get through a migraine. I got hooked. I robbed everyone I ever loved and didn’t give two shits about the people I hurt. To this day, I still struggle with caring about people. But again, I digress.

My point is this, Harry. I’ve personally been through fifty times more shit than you have. I watched my mother die slowly over ten years. I watched her gasp for air and cry in the night for God to just take her out of this world so she’d not be in pain anymore. I have lost most everyone I hold near and dear to me simply because I failed to show any self respect, accountability, or acceptance. I didn’t have parents cleaning up my messes with money. I didn’t have castles and privileges to boot when the newspapers ran the stories where I was sentenced to prison. No. I had to face the music and learn the world could fucking care less about how I feel.

Now is time you learn this lesson, too. The world is not fair. What you feel is not important. All that matters is what you do with how you feel. Nobody, and I mean absofuckinglutely NOBODY gives two shits about how you feel; the only reason people watch is because they are nosey. The only reason Oprah makes shows with you is to exploit your story for financial gain, like some type of trauma porn. Your wife isn’t looking out for you if she’s letting you incriminate yourself like that on TV and all, either. I know what you are going through, as I have dated one of those. It didn’t end well for me, and it will not end well for you.

Final note, Harry. Your family in the UK have loved and protected you for your entire life. Everyone accommodated you in your naked billiards in Los Angeles and Calgary. They did more than you could understand. Before it’s too late, and they finally get tired of your repeated bullshit, and trust me Harry, they will… make up with them. If that means ditching the wife, ditch her. Because she’s going to ditch you soon enough.

Trauma isn’t a renewable resource, my love. People are tired of your greatest hits on repeat. Better start the plans to turn that wife into the second act soon or the checks will start bouncing faster than those moon bumps. Oh and another thing, man the fuck up! Everyone has problems. You are not special. You’re not even a spare anymore. You’ve been replaced on all that. So why the hell do you still hold onto your childhood the way you do? Or those titles like you do? Oh you must be a masochist. You must like it.

Sincerely,

Nunya Business

[from-a-reckless-writer]

They were fighting.

In the DEO.

Again.

“Moms fighting again?” Nia casually leans on the desk next to Brainy, who is currently hunched over some screen. 

“It appears so,” He answers, not really paying attention. In the distance you can hear yelling and the tell-tale woosh of a cape. 

Nia had removed her comms the moment Supergirl spotted Lena Luthor on the field. She’s pretty sure half of the agents did the same. They all knew what was coming. 

And well, if the approaching bickering were any indication... 

“I had it covered!”

“Yes, because an on-coming missile with your name on it was you having it covered, clearly.”

“I saved ten lives today, Supergirl. Jealous you only saved three?”

“It isn’t about that and you know it.”

Nia sees Alex stride in, obviously going in for an attempt to pacify Supergirl. 

And also because it was partly Alex’s idea to send Lena with the Alpha team, in her defense Lena was the only person she could trust enough not to tamper with the device.

“Come on, Supergirl, Lena is more than capable in the field and she volunteered. She saved the day, you kno—”

“Butt out of this, Alex.” Supergirl grits out, too busy staring Lena down to even spare her sister a glance. 

“Sorry?” Alex scoffs, shocked at how easy she was brushed aside. She was tempted to pull rank and use the ‘I’m the Director, here.’ card, if she was being honest.

“No, Alex is right,” Lena points out, “I did save the day. Time for you to acknowledge that the both of us are just as capable as the other. And if saving the day means getting in the line of fire, then so be it.”

“This isn’t about you being incapable-”

“Then tell me what exactly is it about?”

Supergirl licks her lips, swallows and Lena braces herself for another retort but instead she fixes her with a stare that only Supergirl reserves for the bad guys and coolly states, “You are not to go out in the field and that’s final.”

She turns to walk out but Lena’s temper just skyrocketed tenfold. 

“Wow. You did not just say that to my face.” There was something in the way that Lena Luthor’s voice dropped that made Supergirl turn around. DEO agents are openly watching on now, not even bothering at subtlety anymore. The two women fighting in front of the whole agency certainly haven’t tried subtle at all. 

“Let’s make something clear here, Supergirl,” Lena fumed,  “This is my life and I get to call the shots. You don’t get a say in what I decide to do or not to do. Who the hell do you think you are?”

“I don’t have a say? Rao, sorry my mistake! Forgive me for thinking that my sharing a last name with you means a cent to you as much as it does to me. You’re right, who the hell am I anyway? Sorry for wanting to keep you alive.”

Supergirl is breathing heavily two inches away from Lena’s face. Heat and anger rolling off the both of them in waves. They’re in a world of their own now. A world in which Lena is having trouble deciding on whether she should scream some more or pull Supergirl’s lips into her own. 

“Im sorry- Last name?” 

The voice wakes them to reality. A reality that makes both of them sober up and realize they’re in the middle of a very exposed DEO headquarters; makes them aware of the collective gasp that has just happened. 

Supergirl backs away. 

“Please, fucking tell me that I heard you wrong. Or I swear to God-”

Alex heads straight for Supergirl and Lena quickly realizes the implications of what Supergirl had just said. She essentially confirmed to the entire place that they’re— 

“Alex, I can—”

“Yes or no, are you or are you not married?”

So, this is how Alex Danvers makes criminals confess. Lena had never seen Supergirl cower before, but by the looks of it, if Lena had been the one in the hero’s boots she’d also be shaking. 

“Yes.”

Oh, no. 

“Alex, listen,” Lena starts and Supergirl looks at her—no, not Supergirl, Kara—Kara looks at her and Lena sends her a reassuring gaze that screams, ‘I’m with you.’

In that instant it must’ve looked like a switch had been flipped. From Lena attacking Kara to Lena defending Kara in a split second. 

“Listen, we were going to tell you. It isn’t like what you think—“

“Oh, no no,” Alex quickly dismisses Lena, “I’m not going to listen to you. This is between me and you,” Alex hissed not even looking at her, directly glaring at Supergirl instead. 

“Alex, just—” Lena tries but she does the mistake of moving her shoulder in an attempt to put an arm on Alex and she cuts off with a, “Fuck.”

The Danvers sisters look up at her yelp of pain, concern flickering through their faces. Supergirl swiftly speeding to her side, and the shoulder wound she was so trying so hard to keep Kara from seeing, is now out in the open, bleeding profusely. 

“You’re hurt.”

“Fuck,” Lena says again as she tries to take in a breath, pain shooting down her entire right side. 

“Take her to the Med Bay,” Alex orders, eyes briefly tracing Lena’s shoulder before turning to Supergirl again, “If you think this discussion is over, you’re sorely mistaken. You and I have a lot to talk about. And I fucking mean it.”

Lena watches as Supergirl swallows in fear at the sight of the DEO director walking out. 

“Everybody, back to work! Show’s over, morons!”

As if somebody had hit the play button, a buzz resumes almost exaggeratedly; DEO agents immediately flailing to get back to work, embarrassed at being called out so blatantly. 

Lena tunes back in to Kara, “C’mon, hold on to me,” she mumbles, quickly bending down to put an arm around Lena’s knees and pulls her to a bridal carry. 

She doesn’t point out that it’s her shoulder that was injured, not her legs; doesn’t point out that she can walk absolutely fine. Lena can clearly see how Supergirl needs to be as close to her as possible right now. 

So, she clings tightly and presses harder back against her chest.

*** 

Lena’s mind is running a mile a minute right now, she needs to know what’s going in her wife’s mind and she needs a plan on how the both of them are going to do damage control. 

Kara lays her down softly on a Med bed and without a word Lena strips herself off. 

Both of them silent as Kara gets supplies on a nearby table. She sits behind Lena and cleans the wound wordlessly. She’s patched Nia up in secret, way too many times, to know how many stitches Lena needs.

“I’m still mad at you.”

Are the first words that Kara utters.

“Good. I’m still mad at you too.”

She hears Kara sigh and she doesn’t need to turn around to know that Kara’s face is scrunched up in a pout and a crinkle. 

“But...that doesn’t mean I won’t protect you against Alex.”

“I don’t need protection from Alex.”

“Really?”

“Okay, fine she scared me a bit.”

Before Lena can reply she hisses in pain and Kara brings her lips near the wound and “Sorry,” she whispers. 

“We have to talk about this don’t we?” Kara sighs out, finally addressing the elephant in the room.

“Yes, darling, we do.”

“We also have to reach a compromise about this, don’t we?”

“Yeah, Kara, yeah we do.”

Lena hears another sigh and she can guess what Kara would say next.

“Just so you know, I hate this. I hate this very much. If I could have my way, we’re not having this discussion and you’re staying put and staying safe and not running off to danger. Hell if I can have it my way you won’t even be stepping inside the DEO. But...I can’t have my way can’t I?”

“No, darling, I’m sorry.”

Kara sounds so helpless and Lena just wants to make all the complications in their relationship go away. But that’s not how real life relationships work. Relationships are hard and messy and work. God, they are so much work, but being with Kara is worth all the work in the world. They’ve come a long, long way for this. 

If this had happened two years ago, the both of them would not even think about compromise. Kara would just push through with what she believes is the best way to keep Lena safe and would have insisted on keeping Lena locked in a safe house somewhere. And she guesses past Lena wouldn’t even consider the merits of communication with Kara, either.

“I just want you safe.”

“I know.”

“Never want to see you hurt.”

“I know, baby. But Kara you can’t always keep me safe, do you understand that?” Lena says carefully, she wishes she could turn around right now and cup Kara’s face.

“I know it’s hard for you, but this is what the both of us signed up for. Do you think I’m happy whenever you fly off to God knows where, when I see getting shot at in the news, when you leave in the middle of the night? I’m just as scared as you are, Kara.”

But that’s the price the both of them have to pay for falling in love when one is a super hero and the other is a world saving genius.

Kara bandages her neatly and Lena turns around to face her, moving a bit up in the bed and pulls gently at Kara’s wrist to join her.

“I know,” Kara breathes into Lena’s hair as she positions herself,  “I’m sorry. For fighting, for yelling, for...accidentally telling everyone that we’re married.”

Lena tries not to laugh at how Kara pouts at the last one. 

“Forgiven already. I’m sorry too.”

“I love you, you know that?”

She feels more that hears as she fits herself underneath Kara’s chin, tucked tight beside her. 

“I love you too, so, so much. So much that I agreed to a secret wedding,” Lena tells her, “And as much as I would love to continue our little heart to heart, I really think you should go to your sister now.”

“Nooo, Lena noo,” Kara groans out, “Come on, we can just stay here and cuddle and I can kiss your shoulder better and maybe you can give me a kiss too and I don’t have to talk to Alex.”

“Oh, but you do.”

“Have I mentioned I also hate when you’re right?”

“Once or twice.”

“Mmph. Fine. But half an hour of cuddles first and then I go talk to Alex, deal?” 

“Deal.” 

Lena agrees, greedy for Kara’s warmth and also thinking that Alex certainly needs more than half an hour to cool off. Kara certainly needs more than that to think about the words she’s going to tell her sister. She’ll probably die by the end of their conversation but at least she died knowing that the whole world knows Lena Luthor is her wife, right?

***

“Alex, I know you’re mad-”

“Oh, I’m not mad, I’m livid, Kara. Livid.”

Maybe it was a bad idea to talk to Alex in an empty DEO training room where her sister could easily turn on red sunlamps and deck her for keeping things secret.

“What, did it not occur to that, oh I don’t know? ‘Oh I’m having a wedding maybe I should text my sister an update? Leave her a note maybe? Dear Alex I’m getting married today!’” Alex roars and Kara flinches. Rao how could she be this stupid?

“Anything would have been fucking nice, than to hear about it in the middle of a heated fight. Tell me, if you didn’t slip up just now were you even going to tell me?” Alex tries to coat the words in anger but she doesn’t miss the way it wavers on fear and insecurity.

“Rao, yes of course I was going to Alex! I- we-” Kara tries.

“Save it.”

“Alex please,” She begs her to listen as she steps in front of her and reaches to hold Alex’s hands.

“When?” Alex snarls and Kara gulps because her sister definitely would not like the answer.

“Remember that time that Lena and I broke up? Then we ran to each other in the rain, made up? And then two weeks later she got assassinated by those CADMUS wanna-be’s and we had to use the Fortress’s tech to track her down?”

Alex remembers that one so clearly. It was funny at the time, how Jess had caught them making out in the middle of an ‘interview’. How Kara was so happy that she won Lena back.

“Yes and?” Alex quips, eager to know the answer.

“And well, remember how I asked to have some time alone with Lena once we rescued her? And made all of you guys leave?” Kara croaks out, fear apparent and Alex just stares at her clearly impatient at how Kara rambles.

“Well, I uh-kinda suggested we get married on the spot because I didn’t want to spend another day not being married to her when people want to kill both of us, every day.”

Alex lets out a heavy, shakes her head and pinches the bridge of her nose. 

“You know this is the part where I say, ‘Not even surprised.’” She states dryly, “Of fucking course you’re the kind of people who would pull this kind of shit.”

 Kara tries to get a word in but, “You fucking owe me a wedding and Mom and J’onn and Alura-”

“Oh my god! Kara! Your Mom deserves to see the daughter she whisked off to another planet, get married! You fucking owe Clark a wedding-”

“Actually…” Kara starts off sheepishly, knowing full well Alex will explode from what she’s about to say.

“Oh for fuck’s sake! Clark knows doesn’t he?!”

Kara flinches again. Good thing her superhearing is dampened here. 

“Well, uh,” Kara wrings her fingers when she realizes there are no glasses to fiddle with.

“Lena said she wanted a Kryptonian wedding so we had Kelex call Kal and uhm he officiated…”

Alex doesn’t say anything to that, just clenches and unclenches fists at her side. 

“I’m sorry!! Okay! I was going to tell you immediately but we kinda got carried away sneaking around and then it just completely slipped my mind because you guys keep pointing out how we’re an old married couple anyway! And and and—“ Kara is grasping for words, anything just to make this all better. 

“Damn it, I messed up haven’t I?” She whispers, realizing  now that the only thing to make this better would be them admitting their mistake and going for amends. 

“Yeah, you did, Kara.”

Kara feels shame course through her.

“I am so mad at you right now for denying me the privilege of seeing you walk down the aisle.  You know I don’t even want that, I just wanted to see you have your dreams come true and see you have what I have with Kelly, god damn it Kara, I love you and I wanted to be there.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I hate your pout. I hate your stupid pouty face. Your billionaire wife better pay for a grand wedding for all of us.”

“Does that mean I’m forgiven?”

“Mom’s not going to let you down easy though.”

Her sister doesn’t really need to point out the obvious.

“I know. Could you maybe be the-”

“Nuh-uh. No. You tell her yourself or have Lena tell her. I’m not doing that shit for you.”

“Fine.”

Kara will take what she can get. 

“I love you, Alex.” She breathes in relief when she sees Alex affectionately roll her eyes at her.

“I love you too, you stupid alien.”

***

“It’s official then? We guys get to call you Moms now?”

Lena never really expected that to be the first words Nia says to her when she enters the Med Bay.

“Yes, Nia. And also, yes, you’re a bridesmaid,” She answers immediately knowing that Nia was going to ask.

Nia lights up and Lena shakes her head at how similar she and Kara beams. 

Yeah, ‘Moms’ really is a fitting term.

“Alex making you do another wedding huh?”

“Yes, she is.”

Nia snorts, “You say that as if you don’t want the world to know Kara Danvers is wholly and solely yours.”

Well, she isn’t wrong, not that Lena is ever going to admit that though.

“Can I please plan your wedding? I have prophetic dreams. I can totally tell you what would look perfect on that day oh, oh, oh! I can even tell you if it’s going to rain, if you want an outdoor wedding that is. Oooh, maybe I could even see who’d catch your bouquet— “

“Nia, slow down,” Lena mutters before Nia plans out the whole wedding then and there.

“Kara and I will talk about it, but I think she’ll agree, you don’t really need to convince us.”

“Yes-yeah uh right sorry, you should definitely do that. Sorry it’s just I’ve been shipping you and oh my this is so exciting!” 

Trust Nia to say ship is now endgame in regards to their marriage.

Nia jabbers on as Kara walks in and gives the both of them a big grin, Alex trailing behind her. 

“I guess, congratulations are in order, Danvers.” Alex rolls her eyes and it takes Lena a moment to realize that she was referring to her.

She tries to calm down the happy flutter in her heart and the emotions bubbling out of her as she utters a weak, “Th-thank you, Alex.”

“Actually, Luthor-Danvers, we hyphenated,” Kara clarifies, which really doesn’t help the happy flutter at all, just adds to it. 

Alex just sighs and mumbles an ‘Of course you did.’

Before walking towards the bed and surprising Lena with a tight embrace.

“You do know, now you have two Danvers worrying for you every time you walk out in the field now, right?”

 And Lena just laughs. Because for the first time in forever she’s got people genuinely wanting her to exist. To the point that they’d do anything to keep her safe. 

She’s got family now and if it means overprotective Kryptonians and fierce blaster wielding older sisters, she really wouldn’t have it any other way. 

***

They’re fighting. 

In the DEO.

Again. 

“Moms fighting again?” Nia doesn’t really know why she keeps asking, this is like a daily occurrence now. Agents don’t even bat an eye when bickering echoes off the halls, nowadays. Apparently, this is what happens in the CatCo bullpen and L-Corp offices too. 

Alex appears next to her. 

“You know you really should stop calling them that, especially since—“

“WE ARE NOT NAMING OUR KID, POTSTICKERS!”

[duskholland]

since everybody loves tommy’s arms & all...how about during the middle of sex mob!tom finds our reader has a choking kink, & then maybe teases her about it afterwards (playfully, of course)...honestly anything where mob!tom chokes me & then cuddles me because THATS THE FUCKING DREAM OOF ok byeeeee

hnnnng. nsfw 18+ extended warnings beneath cut.

— it’s mob monday !! —

extended warnings: choking, MxF unprotected sex. pls have a discussion and establish safe words with your partner if you’re going to engage in kink!!!

————

Tom knows you like his arms.

It’s no secret. You love feeling his strong arms wrap around your waist from behind, love watching him when he’s in the gym letting his fists rain down over the tough material of the punching bag. There’s just something about the way his muscles clench and flex whenever he extends his arms, biceps pronounced and bulging, that turns you on beyond reproach. You always make a point of kissing them - taking each and every opportunity to drag your lips over the curves of his arms, trailing down, down, down, until your mouth settles on his fingers and you feel the weight of his digits on your tongue.

The way he touches you with his hands never fails to spike your pulse, and as he lays you down in bed one night and slots himself between your thighs, you find yourself whimpering to feel one of his palms stroking over your neck. Tom’s gentle, the lightness of his fingers contrasting the way he’s fucking you, slotting his hips against yours as he thrusts into you with deep, pleasurable movements. His lips are on yours, mouth swallowing your moans, but he notices the particularly loud groan you release when his fingers rest over the column of your throat.

With a smirk on his face, Tom pulls away from your mouth, his pupils blown with lust.

“What’s that?” He asks cockily. He stills his movements, resting with his cock lodged deep inside you. You whimper as you clench around him, and the noise doubles in volume as Tom runs his fingers over the base of your neck. Tom’s eyebrows shoot up his forehead, and he looks at you curiously. “Do you like it when I touch your neck, angel?”

It wasn’t like it was supposed to be a secret, yet you’ve found yourself keeping this card close to your chest. You know Tom would never judge you for anything - let alone a kink - but it’d never come up, and if you’re honest, you didn’t think he’d be into it. Yet now, he’s looking between his hand resting on your neck and the way you’re biting your lip, and you think you can see something like curiosity fluttering over his face.

“Yeah,” you admit. You strain against his hand, trying to feel a little more pressure. When you receive it and feel the hard of his palm pressing up against your neck, your eyes roll back and you whimper. “Want you to choke me, Tom.”

“Choke you, eh?” Tom brings his hand away from your neck, bringing it nearer him and staring at his palm. His Rolex glints as he flexes his fingers, a deep frown line between his eyebrows. You bite at your lip as he ponders your request, his eyes shifting a shade darker when he looks back at you. With a nod, he shifts his hand back into place, applying the most minimal of pressures. “If you want me to stop, tap out,” he murmurs, “And I’m not going to do it too hard. Not until we’ve done it a few times, alright?”

You nod immediately, but he continues to look at you, eyebrow raised, until you say, “Yeah. I understand.”

Tom hums. He burrows his face in the crook of your neck for a moment, leaving a scattering of wet kisses over your skin, and then he pulls back to press his lips to yours. He starts to move again, the brief interlude to his actions over, and you throw your head back as you feel his cock, ridged and thick, filling you up deliciously.

It’s only made better when his hand shifts back to your neck, and Tom’s thumb and index finger stretch to wrap around the front of your throat. He’s experimental with it for a while, alternating between light touches and deeper, more focused presses of his fingers, but eventually, he seems to grasp that you like it hard. You like the feeling of his hand pushing you down, love the constriction to your airway and the way your breaths come out raspy and tighter when he pushes down against you. It gives you an edge, makes your harsh moans come out louder, has you clenching around his cock. And he seems to love it, too.

“Such a pretty little thing,” Tom murmurs. His brown curls cling to his forehead as he watches you, suspended above you as he continues to fuck you. His movements are slick and easy - Tom had already brought you to two orgasms before finally slipping into you, and he’s found an easy home buried between your thighs. “Look so innocent, with my hand around your neck.” He smirks, teeth glinting. “Never would’ve known you’re so fucking dirty.”

You lick your lips as you whimper, the pressure of Tom’s hips coming down against your clit each time he thrusts into you bringing you near the edge. When his hand loosens as he repositions ever so slightly, you’re quick to push up against his palm, craving the heat of his strength coming down over you, loving the ache that’s forming in your throat.

“Desperate for it, aren’t you?” Tom’s voice is deep and husky, stacked full of arousal. “You want to feel this tomorrow, have the marks of my fingers wrapped around your throat.” He breaks off to chuckle, brown eyes almost black. “You want everyone to know that you like to get choked by your boyfriend.”

It’s so much to focus on - the snapping of his pelvis against yours, the feeling of his cock filling you up so completely, the sensations spreading out from your neck. You’re sinking into the mattress, clinging to Tom’s shoulders, your eyelids fluttering shut as you feel your orgasm near.

“Looks so fucking pretty like this-” He’s muttering, close himself. His fingers on your neck are hot and slippery with sweat, but he’s still in control. Tom darts down, dropping his head until he’s able to kiss along your jaw, rasping into your ear a low, “G’nna cum for me, angel? With my hand around your throat?” When you whimper, the sound pitched high, he chuckles. “Do it, lovie. Let me feel how much you love me being in control.”

Your eyes roll back as you follow his request a few moments later, spasming over the sheets. His touch keeps you in place, and you’re moaning loudly as Tom fucks you harder, chasing his own release and spilling into you with a loud grunt of your name. His hand loosens on your neck, leaving completely to fist the sheets beside your head as he slows down, his face the picture of blissed exhaustion as both of you recover. You gasp for breath, your lungs flooding with deep inhalations of oxygen, and there’s a lightness in your chest that makes you smile lazily.

“Y/N?”

You open your eyes, realising you’ve spaced out a little. Tom’s now beside you on the mattress, looking at you with concern in his gaze.

“Mm?”

“C’mere.” Tom reaches out for you, and you roll onto your side as he pulls you in closer. Your head goes to rest in the crook of his arm, and one of his hands rolls over your cheek. You sigh softly as the scent of his cologne drifts up your nose, and sink further into him as he leaves a series of gentle kisses to your temple. “Are you okay?”

You hum, reaching out to rest a hand on Tom’s stomach. He immediately links your fingers together, and you smile against him as he rolls his thumb over the back of your hand.

“Yeah.” Your voice comes out slightly strained, and your throat aches, causing you to giggle. “I can definitely feel it.”

Tom chuckles, moving his other hand over your waist. With each repetition of the movement, you feel more relaxed, basking in his body heat.

“I didn’t ever think you’d be into that,” he admits, “Didn’t think you had it in you.”

You feel the warm rush of shy embarrassment fill you, and burrow your head further into his side. “Shut up,” you whine.

“It’s cute.”

You peer up at him, narrowing your eyes. “Cute?”

Tom hums. He dives down to kiss you, lips warm against yours as he spends a few moments caressing your mouth with his. “Yes,” he whispers. “Means you trust me to do it to you.” His mouth leaves yours when he smirks. “And also means you’re kinky, which is cute.”

You scrunch your nose up. “Don’t act like I’m the only one that enjoyed it,” you respond. You arch an eyebrow. “I know it got you off, too.”

Tom’s cheeks fill with a darker hue, and he hums. He kisses you again, before wrapping you up in his arms and holding you tighter.

“Yeah,” he admits, mumbling against your hairline. “It was bloody hot.”

[donutloverxo]

Want you back

Note - this is for @holylulusworlds 10k follower challenge! My trope was hurt/comfort Congrats I hope you like it😘

Beautiful mood board by my girl @ballyhoobarnes

Summary - You want Steve to be more than just your sugar daddy. He breaks your heart. Will he be able to make it upto?

Themes - CEO au, sugar daddy/baby relationship, implied age gap, smut, unprotect sex, loss of virginity, daddy kink

Pairing - Steve Rogers x reader

Word count - almost 4k

Masterlist is linked in the bio!

You squealed as you grabbed the deep red box from Steve’s hand, the words ‘cartier' written on it in golden cursive. You could see Steve watching in amazement from the corner of your eye. You gasped as you opened it, the prettiest and shiniest diamonds you had ever seen. “For me?” You looked at him with hopeful eyes. If he said no it would break your heart.

“Who else would it be for?” He chuckled and you gave him a smile embarrassed at your own silly thoughts. “Let me” He said pulling you by your hips to place you on his lap, taking the necklace out of the box and clasping it around your neck.

Such an act shouldn’t feel so intimate, but it really did. Steve was the most generous man you had ever met. He met you in a very difficult time in your life. Paying off your student loans, buying you a new very comfortable apartment, and so many gifts all the while never expecting anything in return.

All he wanted was quality time with you and complete honestly. He reserved a lot of disdain for dishonest people. Which is why maybe he liked having you around. You were the most honest person you knew, always wearing your heart on your sleeve, never having a filter. You understood now what Steve meant when he said ‘you're a breathe of fresh air' having met his friends. You didn’t know who to trust, all those parties seemed so glitzy on the surface but you did feel a certain darkness lingering underneath on some level.

You looked down at your new diamond necklace. Since your little arrangement with Steve started, over six months ago now, this would be the tenth diamond necklace he gave you, among a few diamond pendants and bracelets. “It’s so pretty” you said in awe of it to which he replied “It looks pretty because it’s on you doll”

“You didn’t have to daddy” You shifted on his lap to get comfortable putting your arms around his neck to look into his cerulean blue eyes, the prettiest eyes in the whole wide world.

“I just felt like spoiling my princess. It’s been a while since I got you anything. Jarvis told me you haven’t used the platinum card in weeks” He quirked a brow at you.

Well you hadn’t. You weren’t surprised Steve’s secretary Jarvis noticed. He always delivered messages, gifts to you whenever Steve wasn’t available. You started a part time job at a library just so you wouldn’t have to use it. “I’ve been thinking a lot” You murmur looking down at your lap to avoid his intense gaze. If you did look at his face you wouldn’t be able to articulate your thoughts “and I don’t want your money daddy. I just want you. I don’t want you to feel like that’s all I’m looking for”

“Hey look at me” He said propping your chin up to make you look at his face. He looked so worried you wanted to kiss away his frown. “I have a lot of money. What I do with it is up to me. And I want to take care of my princess. I don’t feel like you take advantage of me. In fact you do a lot more for me than I for you” He placed a couple of soft kisses on your knuckles while maintaining eye contact with you.

You scoffed at that. You didn’t really do anything for Steve. Not in the way women did for men. When Steve asked to be your sugar daddy, you were more than nervous. How would someone as inexperienced as you please a man like him? But until now you had only had few heavy make out sessions. Steve would feel your breasts through your shirt, and you were sure you felt his hard on that one time, but other than that you hadn’t really done anything together. “I want – “ you trailed off. What if you did tell him how you felt, that you loved him more than the word love can say it, and he rejects you, breaks your heart. You could probably take rejection from anyone else, but if it came from Steve you’d never recover.

“What is it?” He probed.

“I want you. All of you. Why can’t – I don’t know how to say this” You shook your head trying think of the best words. “Why can’t we be boyfriend and girlfriend like most people are? I –“ you paused as he stared at you intently “I love you. I know I’m not the best girl out there but I try my best” You inwardly cringed at your pathetic-ness. Not really the best way to ask to be someone’s girlfriend.

He took a deep breathe “I was afraid of this. I don’t do that doll. If I wanted a girlfriend I would have one. I don’t have space for that.”

You felt as if he stabbed you in your heart. You quickly got up, abandoning the comfort of his lap. You took the necklace off putting it on the abandoned open box. “I want more. I can’t ignore my feelings. I can live without diamonds or bags but I can’t live without –“ you choked a sob. “I think I’ll go home now”

You collected your chanel bag, which he gave you, you grimaced as you looked at it, when he got it for you were over the moon but now it just gives you pain, just like every gift he got for you would. You put on your shoes somewhat leisurely expecting him to get up try to talk you out of leaving, compromise, something! But he just sat there staring at the necklace you rejected. “Goodbye” you said and left.

You had never been to a ball. Any party you ever attended were frat parties that were well trashy for the lack of a better word. You were so amazed at the tall champagne flutes passing through, the exotic hors doers, people dressed in the most lavish gowns and suits. Everything was so pretty you knew you didn’t fit in here.

But Steve was so considerate with you. His hand never left your side the whole night. He kept you close to him, including you in any conversation he had with others. It was that kindness that you fell in love with.

But then she approached you both. She looked really talk in her sleek stilletos, her sharp cheek bones were complimented by her short brown curls. You felt a tinge of jealousy when she hugged Steve kissing his cheek as if she had known him forever. “This is Margaret” He introduced her.

You were later told that she was Steve’s ex girlfriend.

She had a posh British accent. With her classic black dress, she looked like she belonged here. You hurt yourself by thinking about how Steve and her looked so good together. They looked like they were meant to be standing next to one another. You had to try really hard to hold back tears when she touched Steve’s bicep, laughing at something he said.

You had been ‘together' for over two months at that point. You knew Steve was gorgeous. You didn’t however realise how much other women noticed his that. That night you felt as if everyone had their eyes on him. If you left for even a second to use the ladies room, Steve would be surrounded by women, all so gorgeous they looked other worldly.

You asked to spend the night at his home. He had turned his queen suite into a room for you. Complete with baby pink walls, silk sheets and the softest of stuffies. He told you he would be happy to have you. After kissing you goodbye Steve went back to his room.

You had other plans. You knocked on his door, entering without his permission. You almost considered leaving when you looked at the sight in front of you. He was only sporting his grey sweats. The dim yellow light from the lamp made his skin and hair look golden as if he was a god. He certainly looked like he was carved out by gods. His muscles so taut and his shoulders so broad. He looked like he was photo shopped.

You whimpered when you got a good look at his abs as he sat up straight. You were wearing your satin pale blue nightie, adorned with white lace on the edges. Something you bought when you were out shopping with him. You knew you didn’t look nearly as good as the women at the party.

“You can’t sleep princess?” He asked sitting back against the headboard.

“Hm” You hummed remembering your diabolical plan “I just felt so alone. Can I sleep with you?” You fluttered your lashes at him.

“Of course” He gave you a small smile shifting to his side to make room for you. You quickly skipped over to him and got under the covers with him. Nestling against his chest you nuzzled his neck. “Is everything alright with you?” He asked propping your chin up to look at him.

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” You draped a leg over his hip and started grinding against his thigh. You didn’t know much about seducing but you could only hope you were doing it right.

“Well you were quiet the whole ride home.” He pressed his palm against your hip, firmly but also gently at the same time, to stop your grinding. “What’s going on?”

“I just really really want to make you feel good.” You tried your best to sound classy and sultry at the same time, just like Peggy did.

You didn’t want him to find out just how amazing he was, and how he could do better than you. He was nice to her. Was he too nice? Did he still have feelings for her? Why did you find out from someone else that they were together. You needed to give him everything.

He didn’t try to stop when you rubbed him through his sweats. Gulping down your anxiety you looked up to see him staring at you curiously. He quickly sat back up and leaned against his pillows as you took his cock out of his briefs and sweats. He looked big. Much bigger than normal men probably. How were you supposed to take him?

You tried to recall whatever you had seen in porn or had heard from friends and stroked his length. He seemed to like it since he moaned grabbing a handful of your breast and squeezing it. You stared in awe as the creamy gooey liquid seeped out of his tip. You leaned down taking him in your mouth and going as far as you could until he hit the back of your throat. You moaned around him and swallowed your spit so you wouldn’t make too much of a mess. You were about to bob your up and down as one is supposed to do when giving a blow job but he abruptly pulled you off of him by grabbing the back of your head.

He brought you close to him and crashed his lips onto yours in a kiss which was all teeth and carnal need.

He flipped you over so you were under him and worked on taking off your panties. “I think I should tell you...” You trailed off not being able to concentrate with his lips on your neck. “I’ve never.. done this before.” You whimpered as he sucked a bruise into the crook of your neck.

He immediately stopped looking down at you. “What?” He asked and you felt ashamed and guilty that you ruined the moment. “What did you say?”

“I’ve never-” You curled in on yourself so you were as small as your voice was “I’ve never done this before you know.” You sniffles tears trailing down your cheeks.

“Hey” He shushed you. Collecting you in his arms and rocking you back and forth. You cried into him for a while. His steady heartbeat lulled you and calmed you. “We don’t have to do that any time soon. Your first time should be special. With someone you love.”

Maybe he said those words to comfort you. But he had no idea just how they broke your heart. He never saw you as anyone he could have a serious future with. You weren’t a serious put together girl. Sure he may say he prefers your innocence over the cunning and self absorbed people in his world. But he was one of them.

“Is it because I’m not her.” You spat but you weren’t brave enough to look at him.

“Who are you talking about?” He spoke into your hair.

“Margaret or Peggy. Whatever you call her.” You mumbled afraid that you had let your true feelings be known.

“Is that what this is about?” He shook his head and when you didn’t look at him he sternly called out your name which made you whip your head up. “There’s nothing between me and Peggy. We had our time but it’s over now.” He tried reassuring you.

Even if your arrangement was supposed to be purely financial you were more or less unofficially exclusive. “Then why did I have to find out from Natasha that you were both engaged?” You pouted wiping your nose with the back with the back of your finger.

“I only asked her to marry me because I thought that was how it was supposed to be. That’s what everyone had told us since we were kids. That we were to grow up and get married. But then I realized that I didn’t love her like that. Neither did she. We’re just friends now. I promise.” He kissed your forehead.

You were hurt from being rejected by the only man you ever tried to seduce. He cuddled you and coddled you. Reassuring you again and again that you’re perfect. There’s nothing wrong with you.

Just not perfect enough to actually be his apparently.

Days turned into weeks. You were just drifting through the motions. Steve insisted that you keep your apartment.

‘I gave it to you. It’s yours.’ He said.

And really beggars can’t be choosers. Before being his sugar baby, you cringed at that label now, you were just an intern in his company. But you didn’t last in that harsh environment for even a month. After that you didn’t really need to get another job since he promised to take care of you in exchange for your company.

You had no idea your company was worth that much.

You always had a crush on him. He was this stylish, smart, kind yet distant older man who was your dream guy of sorts. As in you could dream about him, but you can’t actually have him.

Of course you said yes to his proposal. And were more than happy to accompany him to exotic places in first class and private jets for over six months. To wear breath taking dresses which cost more than your tuition. To cuddle with him and make out with him. It didn’t really go far than that.

Yet it wasn’t hard to trick yourself into thinking that it was more. That you could convince him to want more with you. What a dumbass you were.

You applied to at least ten jobs, although you didn’t hear back from a single one. You were determined to get back on your feet and get yourself a new apartment. You’ll have to move back to queens or even New Jersey. There was no way you could afford a home in Manhattan. But you didn’t want Steve to get the idea that he’s any less cruel to you just because he let’s you stay in the condo he brought you.

For now you were happy wallowing in your sadness. Eating tubs of Ben and Jerry’s and watching the notebook. Thinking about how love is a lie fed to people since childhood so they don’t realise just how meaningless life is.

You were half sleep when you jerked awake to your intercom harshly buzzing. Grumbling you walked over to your door and pressed the button “Who is it?” You asked your irritation evident in your tone.

“It’s me.” Said the voice that was all too familiar to you. “Let me in please?” He requested desperately.

You let out a sigh pressing the little buzzer to let him in. As much as you loathed you, you loved him even more. It had been over a month, you were longing to see his voice, to talk to him, to smell him, to even just be around him.

You opened the door and let him into your, or his, home. You tried your best to not let him see just how happy you were that he’s in front of you. Instead you filled your eyes and drawled your voice feigning annoyance. “What do you want?”

“I want you back” He stated stalking towards you. “Please. I made a mistake” You had never seen him beg. This was so uncharacteristic of him. And you were going to thoroughly revel in it. You held his gaze, done being a coward.

“No” You simply said. “It’s too little too late”

“Don’t say that” He bent down invading your personal space. “It’s never too late. I – I love you” your jaw dropped as he stammered over the words leaving you shocked. “I’ve loved you for so long. I thought that I could pretend that I didn’t”

“Why?” You wanted to know.

“Because I’ve lost everyone I ever loved. I can’t lose you.” He kissed your knuckles.

“You already have.” But your body betrayed you as you leaned into his touch. You could already feel your resolve crumbling. “I don’t believe you.” You snatched your hands out of his hold. “You’ll change your mind tomorrow.”

“No no I won’t. I swear.” He scrambled to hold your hands again but you moved them out of his reach. It was almost satisfying to have the upper hand. To have him be the vulnerable one. “I’ll show you how serious I am.” He said removing a little red box from his pocket.

“Is that...”

“Yeah” He gave you a small smile. “This isn’t a spur of the moment thing. I’ve thought about this.” He said kneeling in front of you. He opened the box to reveal a solitaire diamond ring adorned by little diamonds on the band. It was simple enough to be classy but flashy enough to be special. “I fell in love with you the moment I saw you. You’ve always held my heart y/n. Will you marry me?” He asked. His voice slightly shaky.

You didn’t need to think about it. You forgave him as soon as you heard his voice. “Yes” You whimpered. You didn’t even know that you had started crying. He stood up on his feet and slid the ring on your ring finger.

You smiled as he kissed you. After so long. It was just a month but it felt like a thousand years. It was as if he was parched and so needy for you. His hands wandering all over your body. He swooped you up in his arms and carried you over to your bedroom. He made quick work of taking off his sweater his jeans and his underwear.

He pulled your long sleep shirt over your head. You tried to hide your breasts from him. Having never been naked in front of anyone you were shy and felt so exposed. “You’re going to be my wife now.” He purred removing your hands and taking you in. He was awestruck. “You’re so beautiful.” He stated mater of factly.

He trailed kisses down your body. Settling between your legs he stared at your heat. You couldn’t tell if he was unsatisfied or not. You gasped as you felt his hot tongue against your warm folds. You squirmed and thrashed. It was so different from when you played with yourself. So much more intense. You whimpered punching the mattress when he pulled away, you instantly missed his mouth. You gasped as you felt his fingers invade your warmth.

He moved up looming over you pushing his fingers in and out of you. “I want to watch you fall apart” He said. His voice laced with lust.

You came all over them screaming as he captured your lips into a bruising kiss. Swallowing your moans and cries.

You were still coming down from your high when he pushed his tip inside you. You gasped. “Shh it’s okay” He cooed kissing your hair “It’ll be okay. Daddy always care of you. You know that right.” He whispered kissing your tears away “I’ll never hurt you again.” He let out a muffled grunt as he completely sheathed himself into you.

He let you get accustomed to his length for a minute before moving. Thrusting leisurely into you. You closed your eyes, holding onto your shoulders. Giving out little hums and mewls, only focusing on the weight of his cock in you, his tip hitting your cervix, and how he brushed against your pussy every time he slid out halfway, only to slid back in again.

“You’re so tight shit.” He cursed against your lips. “I can’t believe. I. Get. to. have. you. forever.” He grunted each word punctuated with a snap of his hips.

He snaked a hand between your bodies and stroked your clit before ruthlessly rolling it in his fingers. It was already so overworked and sensitive. You came clenching around his cock in no time.

Your orgasm set him off. He quickly pulled out, jerking himself off over your stomach you watched through hooded eyes as spurts of his cum painted your stomach. He slumped next to you. His face and neck flushed. “Have to be careful. I’ll use a rubber next time. I’m not ready to share you with anyone just yet” he muttered wiping his shiny forehead with the back of his hand.

He draped his arm across your stomach nuzzling your neck as you stared at your new rock. “You like it?” He asked kissing your throat.

“I love it. I can’t wait to tell my mom” You replied pecking his forehead. “We have to set a date. When do you want it to be? The theme? So many things.”

He hushed you “You don’t have to worry about that. I’ll just hire a wedding planner.”

“What about your father? What if he doesn’t approve of me?” You worried.

“I don’t give two shits about his opinion.” He grumbled.

And you couldn’t help but giggle at that. It was rare to hear him curse. You couldn’t wait to plan your wedding and your life together.

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me thinks there must be a part two. what do you say?

cute pink dividers by @whimsicalrogers

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