#with him *insert lenny face*

[ctl-yuejie]

                        when the show decides that it is very natural to look like you are about to spiderman kiss after a poisoning by your ex

a league of nobleman ep. 22

[theycallme-thejackal]

Vigilante Shit

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

Lenny wakes to the sound of the doorbell ringing, and when he looks at the clock, it’s a little after two in the morning.

Midge is curled against his side, and he considers not answering the door because he knows who it is. But because of who it is, he has to answer the door. He huffs in annoyance before kissing his wife’s hair and then slipping out of bed.

“Where’re you going?” Midge grumbles.

“I’ll be right back,” he promises.

The doorbell rings several times in rapid succession, and Lenny rolls his eyes. Midge sighs, “That’s Joel.”

“Odds are good,” he agrees as he slips into his robe.

She groans, her head plopping back onto her pillow. “I’ll deal with him,” she says before moving to get up.

“Nope,” Lenny answers, going back to the bed. “I will deal with him.”

She looks at him for a moment. “Honey, you know I’m not going to - ”

“I know,” he promises. Despite Joel’s obvious belief that his ex would drop her whole life if he asked, Lenny hasn’t once felt threatened by his wife’s ex-husband. “But you’ve had a rough night. Let me take care of this, and you can deal with it once you’ve gotten some rest.”

She opens her mouth to protest but then closes it and nods. He gives her a quick kiss and then heads downstairs as the doorbell continues to ring.

Joel Maisel looks at him in shock when the door opens. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Uh...I live here?” Lenny answers.

“You’re supposed to be in Boston.”

“And you’re supposed to not cheat on the daughter of one of the most powerful mobs in the city, and yet here we are.”

Joel’s face blanches at that. “How did you - ”

“Mei stopped by to talk to Midge. Midge called me. So here I am,” Lenny explains.

“I need to talk to Midge,” Joel says, pushing past the taller man into the house.

“You can talk to her in the morning, Joel.”

“No, I need to talk to her now.”

“No.”

“What do you mean, no?” Joel seethes as Lenny closes the door.

“I mean no, like what you should’ve said when your dick wanted to go wandering into one of your employees. Midge is asleep, and I’m not waking her up for this. You can talk to her in the morning.”

“She’s going to want to talk to me,” the younger man insists.

Lenny pinches the bridge of his nose. “Joel, it’s two AM. I had to take a four hour train ride because you decided - once again - to nuke your marriage. I really don’t have the patience to listen to you pretend you know my wife better than I do.”

Joel glowers at him. “I’m going to talk to Midge,” he says.

“No, actually, you’re not,” Lenny counters, quickly inserting himself between Joel and the stairs to the second floor.

“Get out of my way!” Joel shouts.

“Jesus, Joel, I told you, you can talk to her in the morning! She’s exhausted. Leave her alone.”

For a split second, he’s is pretty sure Joel’s about to finally throw a punch at him, but then his gaze moves upward, and he looks so fucking pleased it makes Lenny feel sick. 

He sighs and turns, looking up at his wife, wrapped up in her blue dressing gown and the comfortable slippers he got her last Hanukkah. “I thought you were going to stay in bed,” he says, swiping a hand over his mouth.

“I heard shouting. Thought I should come down here and make sure I don’t have to clean blood off my wallpaper tomorrow,” she explains as she descends the stairs.

He scoffs a little laugh. She reaches the bottom of the stairs and kisses his cheek, and he can feel anger radiating off of Joel behind him. “Want me to stay?” He asks quietly.

“Always,” she whispers, “but I should probably talk to him alone. It won’t take long, I promise.”

Lenny turns his head slightly to eye Joel, who looks very pleased with this turn of events. He turns back to his wife. “Okay,” he sighs as he squeezes her hand. “I’ll go make some coffee.”

“Decaf,” she replies. “We’re going back to bed shortly.”

He grins softly and dips to kiss her before going to the kitchen.

The conversation isn’t as short as Lenny had hoped, and when Midge finally joins him in the kitchen, she looks even more exhausted than she had when he first arrived home.

She climbs into his lap at the kitchen table and wraps her arms tightly around him, burying her face in his neck. He slips his own arms around her waist and rubs her back as soothingly as he can manage. “Regretting decaf?” He asks.

She chokes out a laugh, and he feels her tears on his neck as he lifts a hand to stroke her hair. “He wanted me to run away with him,” she whispers.

Lenny wishes he could say he’s surprised, but this is exactly the kind of stunt he expects from Joel. He sighs. “What did you tell him?”

“I said no,” she answers.

“And?”

“And nothing,” she answers, sniffing as she pulls away so she can look at him. “He wanted me to pack bags for Ethan and Esther, drive out to Queens with him to pick them up, and get the hell out of town,” she explains quietly.

She reaches for the coffee cup on the table, and he untangles a little from her to give her the space. She, however, makes no move to get out of his lap. As she sips, he waits patiently for her to continue. “No thought of how leaving would affect Sarah or Charlotte or our parents or you..."

“You’re also one of the most famous comics in the country at this point; I don’t think you can just disappear without getting recognized,” he points out.

“I don’t know what to do, Lenny,” she whispers, quickly adding, “I’m not leaving you. I just...I don’t know what I’m going to tell the kids.”

Lenny offers her a soft smile. “We should get some sleep,” he answers. “You’re not going to figure this out right now. Especially since we don’t know what’s actually going to happen.”

“You don’t know me at all, do you?” She drawls.

He chuckles. “I do. And I know that you can’t help but worry, but for all we know, this could blow over. Joel and Mei could divorce without it getting messy, meaning there will be no explaining on your end.”

“But - ”

“Midge,” he sighs. “I know you can fix anything, but this is not yours to fix. We’re just going to have to deal with things as they happen.”

Her head thuds gently against his shoulder. “I hate this.”

“I do, too,” he murmurs against her hair, placing a soft kiss there. “But for now, let’s hit the sack.”

“Can’t move,” she mutters.

He laughs quietly again. “Well, you’ve had a hell of a night,” he concedes, gently taking the cup from her grasp and setting it on the table. He scoops her up, groaning a little from the effort. It’s not that she’s heavy - he’s just getting older.

By the time he gets them to the bedroom, she’s snoozing on his shoulder, and he tucks her into their bed before sliding in behind her and holding her close.

[nifaswriting]

hello! how would ace, zoro and kidd react to their s/o asking for a cuddling session because they've been feeling down lately. i love ur blog! :D

Hello dearest! Thank you for your request, it was so cute to write! Enjoy ❤️

Kid, Zoro and Ace reacting to their s/o asking for cuddles :

He's all smirk at first, seemingly joking about it

He thought they were down because he hasn't been around much and they wanted his attention

"Didn't know ya missed me THAT much, babe."

Immediately frowns the moment he understands his lover is upset for real and actually asking for reassurance, no shit Eustass

He likes teasing them, sure, but the last thing he wants is making their mood worse than it already is

He's a good man with a good heart for them, but boy is awkward

Kid is silent for long agonizing minutes and suddenly his s/o almost wants to go back on their words because they think he's annoyed

He finally sighs loudly

"You're such a pain in the ass." He has no filter. "I'm sor -"

However, they don't have time to finish their sentence because Kid is already swinging them over his shoulder, carrying them around the ship like a bag of potatoes

Taking the direction of their shared bedroom for a long private cuddle sessions

Of course, he's not going to leave them alone with whatever upsetting thoughts they are having, not without doing anything

What kind of captain and boyfriend would he be ?

"Let's ease your mood, 'aight ?"

In the end, he decided that cuddling wasn't enough to help them and they did something else instead *insert lenny's face*

My most beloved *loving sigh* *ahem*

This man never hesitates when it's about having any kind of physical contact with his lover

Hugs, cuddles, kisses, he'll give them anything they want, they just have to ask and he's ready

Though, hearing that something might have been upsetting them without him noticing makes his heart aches slightly

In times like this, he kinda doubts himself and the fact he's a good boyfriend, he has great self-esteem poor baby

However, he knows that it's not about him right now and prefers focusing on his s/o than on his personal feelings

More than ever, Ace is ready to hold them as tight as he can and never letting them go again

Not until they feel better, at least

"Tell me about it."

It's impossible not to feel comfortable in this man's arms, so his lover would probably tell him why they are feeling down

If it's something specific, Ace is going to listen quietly but carefully, humming to let them know he's paying attention

If it's nothing in particular, it doesn't matter, he'll still cuddle them tightly and close to him

One way or the other, there is no way they won't feel immediately better once his arms are wrapped around them

And if they don't, then he won't ever let them go

Zoro is pretty observant, so there is no way he hasn't already noticed that his lover has been feeling down for a few days

If anything, he might actually be the one coming to them to ask what is wrong and if they want to talk about it

"Oi, you're acting weird lately. What about it ?"

Whatever it is, Zoro will listen until they're done, nodding and keeping eye contact so they understand he actually cares a lot

This man's not big on comforting words because he's awkward, but I know damn well his arms are the most pleasant place to be when the world seems to be crumbling down

So, of course, it's obvious his s/o is going to ask for cuddles after explaining everything to him and who is he to deny them ?

He'll probably suggest they both lie down in one of his favorite napping spots (in case he falls asleep mid-cuddling)

I already said it before but Zoro's arms feel so safe, and if his s/o doesn't immediately feel better the instant he holds them, what can I say ?

If they fall asleep in his arms, Zoro will kiss the top of their head while never letting them go

100% falls asleep no matter what because he's comfortable and holding his favorite person, he can't ask for anything better

Maybe a bit of booze to finish the painting, but you know what, he'll go with just that, it's already more than enough ❤️

[inn-oceanid]

Some Venti headcanons : him having a huge crush on you but can’t communicate well.

High school AU.

Venti who fell for you when he saw how athletic you were during PE. They way you moved so cool got him feeling crazy.

Venti who would always stare at you during classes where it leads him to the point where he can’t hear the teacher calling his name.

Venti who would always admire you for everything you do, even the smallest things, even mistakes.

Venti who squeals mentally when your eyes meet.

Venti who blushes furiously when you smile at him and covers his mouth when he looks away.

Venti who curses mentally, dang why are you so pretty?

Venti who’d get sad when you don’t attend classes, and is very happy to see you in class even if you don’t talk to him.

Venti who would secretly cheer for you when you’re playing sports.

Venti who would also secretly cheer for you when your teacher asks you a question about the subject.

Venti who literally celebrates quietly when you heard him whisper the answer which made the teacher allow you to sit down.

Venti who would always watch you walk from behind and admire you from there. You never fail to make his heart flutter by just looking at you.

Venti who can’t communicate well without stuttering when you talk to him, and will slap his forehead and sulk about it after.

But what if you became close? (Insert lenny face)

Venti who would always be happy to lend you his pens, even if you lose it.

Venti who would always stare at you while you’re doing things, like writing.

Venti who likes it very much when your hair falls from your ear and tuck it again.

Venti who likes it when you laugh at his dumb jokes.

Venti who wants to be with you 24/7

Venti who walks you home and wishes you a goodnight.

Venti who likes holding your hands when you walk with him.

Venti who’s like a cute puppy that follows you around.

Venti who would go like, “I’m so.. hooked.” And mess his hair in frustration when he tells his friends about you.

Venti who would blush furiously when he remembers something about you, which makes him slam his head on the table.

Aether who finds this amusing:

Venti who likes so much about you, like literally everything that when his friends ask him about what he likes about you, he can’t answer and give a proper example.

Venti who’s smitten, just head over heals for you so please like him back.

Oh to have someone like this dude seriously.

[bluiex]

*kicks door off of a bat shaped coffin* I LIVVVVEEE!!!!

Frick, has it been to dang long! Sorry about that, I really wanted my return to be providing you all with the next part of this 'Hunter Grian gets hurt and Vamp Scar takes care of them' story I have, but I have rewritten the beginning part of that google doc about 5 times now so...Allow me to give you all some background-ish lore!

(Dancing bat anon, back to dancing again)

~~~Lore bits beyond this point~~~

Lore bit 1- Nearly all the hunters that attacked Grian are on their way to the afterlife but one, who is being kept in a dark basement somewhere. Spooky!

Lore bit 2- Grian's attack was an thing that was confined to discussions within the group that attacked him. None of the Hunter branch Grian and his attacker are/were a part of have any idea of what happened.

Lore bit 3- The missing presence of 7 hunter is being felt by the branch, but the majority think they're all dead. Some of the hunters that are Grian's friends have been trying to call him but to no avail. Such an unfortunate thing for Grian to have his phone stolen...

Lore bit 4- Grian has no idea of what Scar is doing, and Scar would like it to be kept that way.

Lore bit 5- The blood moon is considered a very special lunar event by Vampire-kind, both for their courting (insert lenny face lol) and in general. Hunters considered it the worst night one could possibly experience however, as it is thought that vampires are at their strongest during the event.

Lore bit 6- It's actually quite common (in the vampire social circle) for humans and vampires to be together. It's put down as 'Claiming' the human in the vampire's history book, and there is a list of what one must do for their 'claim' to be recognized by other vampires.

Lore bit 7- Pearl's not dead, if any of you thought that. There is something preventing her from sending a message back to Grian though.

Lore bit 8- Scar knows how to cook and still does from time to time. He cooks a lot more now that Grian is currently living with him.

And that's about it (for now lol), hope you all enjoyed that and it's got your brain thinking about what could be coming up!

YES kill all those hunters Scar, and torture that one mf in the basement >:3c

Ough I love all the lore SO much. The fact Grian doesn't know about what Scar is doing... Hnn cuz whatll his reaction be if/when he finds out??

YES I knew Pearl wouldn't be dead- I'm so ready to know why she can't send a message whenever you get around to telling it

[thereaderinsertlady]

Since no one's a sucker for Wart/Mamu from Smb2 then fine I'll do it. Lmaoooo XD. Can I have a Wart/Mamu from Smb2 X Reader fluff and smut (insert lenny face) headcanons plssss? (灬º‿º灬)♡

Of course! :D Also decided to go through the headcanon asks in my inbox since I haven’t touched it in a while. I hope you enjoy!

‎

Wart x Reader - Headcanons

Fluff Headcanons:

Wart wasn’t the best at romantical interactions... at first. His kisses were sloppy and his hugs were brief and had little warmth... but now? Best hugger and kisser out there... in your personal opinion, of course.

Due to his large size and overall body shape, it's a little difficult to cuddle with him... but you two certainly make it work. It wasn't anything a few pillows and varying sleeping angles couldn’t fix.

Before you two could figure out the cuddling situation, you actually sat halfway on his lap... a lot. It was comfortable and warm, and made you want to sit completely still all day. He only minded when he had to do something, but otherwise, he seemed to like it with you so close to him.

You sometimes like to steal one of his purple robes that he keeps in his wardrobe. It gets cold in the castle at times, and the robe certainly helps due to how big it is on you.

‎

NSFW Headcanons:

Wart's cock was pocketed away in a sheath below his stomach, and it took some work to get it to come out. Because of that, foreplay played a large role in sex, usually taking up ten to twenty minutes.

He also took his time with sex in general, going slow for the most part. The only time he went fast was when he had to go do something, and you were left hurting for at least a day or so.

While Wart isn't a female any way shape or form, he does lay eggs inside of you, which is the main reason he makes sure to go slow. A singular egg is around the size of a pea, so he ends up placing a few hundred inside of you each time. The eggs aren't really fertile unless you sit in a bathtub for a few months or if they're soaked in freshwater some other way, so they either dissolve or come out after a while.

...Though, there was one incident when an egg was somehow fertilized, and thus was how you got a son. He was more human than anything, but does have a handful of frog-like characteristics. Wart was definitely not expecting for something like that to happen, but he seemed mildly joyful that you two were able to procreate.

[n-14-o-15-i-9-r-18]

Mönkhbat Family: Married Life

AUG 27 - SEP 9, 2022 / NEWLYWED SHENANIGANS  

After Noelle and Aurelio got married, he took on her last name and they became the Simmons family. It wasn’t too eventful but I remember taking that time to really upgrade their wardrobe and figuring out how they look as a unit. Besides that, I could laugh at the times the game glitched and they were either partially or fully naked. For example: 

(Exhibit A, Aug 27:  Noelle)

(Exhibit B, Sept. 9: Aurelio) 

AUG 29, 2022 / NOELLE GAINS AN ENEMY!

At this point in their lives, the young couple survived by taking jobs, with Aurelio working as a chef and Noelle working as a barista. Since the player is a college student, she couldn’t always focus on her game so Noelle stayed a little longer at the coffee shop. 

While she was serving her customers as usual, a black guy by the name Micah, despised his coffee so much that he decided to splash the scalding drink directly at Noelle’s face! That was the start of a terrible animosity.

AUG 30, 2022 / A HOBBY FOR HUBBY 

Aurelio would solely play the guitar to serenade his goth wife even though he is terrible at it. His wife cheered for him every time but he grew embarrassed so he took it upon himself to get some lessons. Now he is somewhat decent! 

AUG 30, 2022 / COMPILATION OF MARITAL AFFECTION 

The staggering contrast between their courtship days to their marital life is like the night and day. Unlike the cold, awkward “eh”’s of their past, their love suddenly became a passionate, burning sensation as the only thing they think of is each other. Like for real, I didn’t screenshot this but the only emojis that come out of their head is marriage, hearts, lenny face, children, and anything related to that. Here’s the rather sickening evidence: 

(insert random party Noelle went to with fellow goths) 

(also insert Noelle trying to joke around the Archaeology Quest)

Even though they were obsessed and were down bad for each other, I didn’t give them children for the longest time because they were broke at the time due to fashion expenses, school assignments, and personal reluctance. 

While I was busy with the Simmons, my twin sister was working with her own Sims at the same time. And eventually, I would come to meet them at their party. To be continued...

[almightyhamslice]

@evajellion has been playing SMRPG and posting pics on my server lately, and she introduced me to this guy, Yaridovich! I’m kind of obsessed ngl. I really like his design. So I decided to draw him! Honestly it was pretty smooth except getting his face right, that was tough. Kinda hard to see with how little ref material of him there is out there. 

Though actually, if I ever draw him again I might experiment with giving him differently shaped hands. The gloves are cute, but his in-game sprite has 4 fingers that look like claws. That could be cool.

[chemistryread]

disclaimers/tags: female oc. written as a reader insert but reader has a lot of backstory. slowburn. angst. cheating. implied domestic violence. minors dni.

a/n: idk i’m just kinda writing this story as i feel like lol have fun

right cowboy, wrong time

rhett abbott

part 1

summary: you’re not home and your boyfriend’s a dick. thankfully, not all cowboys are bad.

part 3

Danielle tells you Rhett came by the diner multiple times, only stopping once she finally felt sorry for him and told him you two traded shifts permanently.

Workings nights is shit. People are in worse moods, tired from a long day. There are more drunk teenagers and wandering creeps.

It was calculated.

He called Lenny and asked for the change. By the end of your work hours you were tired and unsettled, with your guard up. All you wanted was to go home, shower and read a book.

Whoever tried to butter you up would back off the second they saw your busted lip and sunken eyes.

Not only that, but the Abbott family were early risers. They woulnd't stop by the diner after 7 p.m., most importantly Rhett, who was already drinking by then.

Sure, he would have to be up late to pick you up, but it was worth the abundant feeling of power.

There wasn't much you could do. He made your life a little worse, so you had to sweeten him to 'gain his trust' back.

Sometimes he'll let you go to the rodeo. You'll snuggle up to him. Smile in between your kisses. Let him pick you up after he wins a bet and keep his hand in the back pocket of your jeans. You have new, appropriate boots. Pancakes are not your favorite breakfast anymore, keeping the blueberrys only.

You always leave before Rhett's turn.

Usually, you'll ask to go to the bathroom, claiming to have a full bladder despite not drinking at all. Call it whatever it is, but you like to go in the last stall that doesn't work, close your eyes and ask for the universe to protect him. And if he wins something by the end of the night, that would be nice too.

You were planning on hearing the gossip from the patrons who came in for late night coffee with rum as soon as the winner was announced.

You were planning on hearing the gossip from the patrons who came in for late night coffee with rum as soon as the winner was announced.

You were planning on hearing the gossip from the patrons who came in for late night coffee with rum as soon as the winner was announced.

Instead, you get to see the check in person.

Rhett walks in a sweaty mess, muddy boots painting the floor. For a moment, you truly consider hiding under the counter, in between the bags of flour and sugar.

Thankfully, Danielle was in need of extra cash and was covering some nights with you. She tells you to take a break and escape to the back.

Some other time you have to ask her when exactly she picked up that you and him meant trouble.

Sitting on the steps, elbows on your knees and hands over your eyes, you laugh when his voice cuts through the peaceful sound of crickets.

"I'm not here for a milkshake, you know."

The delicious twang of his accent makes you want to scratch at your own skin, then you'll have a perfect excuse for its redden tinge.

"Congratulations."

The metal in his boots clinks with every slow step forward, blue eyes defiantly stuck on you.

"How d'you know I won?"

He stops right in front of you, hands behind his back, toothpick in between sharp white teeth. Who knew you could ever like being leered at by a man nearly shoving his crotch in your face.

"You're enunciating your words."

Rhett cackles, throwing his head back, greasy strands of blonde hair sticking to his neck where a stubble grows. Fuck.

"You mean I'm finally oozing with confidence?"

Tongue playing with the toothpick.

"Or cockiness. Same thing." Shutting his eyes, he nods before taking a seat next to you, forcing you to scoot on the step, not bothering to contain the natural spread of his legs. "I knew you had it in you."

"The cockiness or the ability to win?"

You want to say both. You want to say you care more for the attitude, the talking back, the flirting. But your noses are so close, and his eyes are pretty…

So you simply shrug and smile, turning your head 180 degrees.

Deep breath in.

"I missed you."

Mumbling again.

"You know where to find me."

"You changed shifts."

"Collaborative decision."

Please understand. We can't.

"Leave him." Now, you throw your head back to laugh. "What? Why not? I'm not saying run away with me, I'm just saying you should do better."

"Oh, thank you for enlightening me." Frustration grows inside of your chest. You shouldn't even be talking to him. If any nosy patrons put together him walking in and your absence, it wouldn't be too hard for your boyfriend to hear about it and blow things out of proportion. "Do you honestly think it's that simple? Answer me."

He chokes under your fiery look.

"No, no, of course not." He squeezes the pair of gloves on his hands, before angrily slapping them against his thighs. Your thoughts shouldn't be going to where they are right now. "I just mean- It can't be worse than this? Away from home, your dream, your friends. Letting him dictate when you work, where you go and who you talk to. I don't know much, but I know you can't be happy like this."

A wrinkle forms between his brows and you desperately want to smooth it out.

He's had a couple of beers, that much is obvious, and you hope it's the right amount for him to absorb what you're going to tell him but also slightly forget tomorrow.

"I don't have anyone, okay? No one to support me. His dad helped me get into my dream school, pay for a comfortable life until I could hold my own. Eventually, I landed a scholarship for the final year. He didn't like the thought that I wouldn't depend on his family anymore, so he made me take a very long break, saying I need to focus on 'us' again. Consequently, I lost the scholarship. I still have a year left."

He's thinking, and you shiver with the night breeze. Terrified of what his mind is brewing, you clarify.

"It wasn't always this bad. Or at least I never saw it that way. We were high school sweethearts, for fuck's sake. We met when he moved to Boston on his senior year, his dad obviously holding high expectations for his college education. He was polite, and promising. And he liked me for who I was, not what I looked like. Little did I know he was grooming me into a fucking perfect housewife. Forget I said that- What I mean is that I didn't intend on leeching off of his dad or his money. I thought he loved me. And for someone who's never been loved before, that's a big reason to do things. Anything."

"What are you gonna do?"

He sounds so sober, and he looked so happy before you started talking. You keep nailing it, idiot.

"I was gonna though it out. Be here, on this break, for as long as he wanted me and hope he doesn't decide to break it off." You shrug and he winces, waiting for you to say the plans have changed. "But…I just can't. I'm tired. Luckily, a nice man helped me find a decent job and, along with some other money I have saved, I'm inching closer to what I need to finish school and pay for myself."

You're graced with a genuine, albeit shy, smile after your last sentence.

This time you don't hesitate before lifting a finger and pushing the stray slick hair behind his ear. His breath hitches, loud enough for you to hear and your heart to annoyingly skip a beat.

Reaching into his pockets, thin lips turn into a frown as he pulls out the winner's prize. A check.

"It's not much, but if it helps you get away from that fucking prick's grip it counts for something."

You jump up at the absurdity of his suggestion.

"Rhett, no!"

"I don't mind."

"Well I do! You earned that, you won it, it's yours. If anybody deserves it, it's you-"

"You didn't even see me ride, maybe my competition was shit-"

"I can't, Rhett, no. I'm doing just fine working here, I've got this. Don't."

"If you don't take it, I'll just show up here and leave it as a tip, maybe ten bucks a day. But I think there's a blonde nut who's not gonna appreciate that."

He's looking up, devilish smirk and devious eyes mocking your distressed state.

Standing, he puts the piece of paper back inside his pocket, and you sigh in relief. But soon he breaks into a squeaky laugh, and you're squinting at him. What is up with him tonight?

"What are you laughing at?"

Your arms unfold and your jaw slacks a bit when he tells you.

"You've never said my name before. I like it. Especially when you're mad."

He leaves, and you refuse to watch, still dumbfounded at everything that happened in the span of twenty five minutes. Which is a lot longer than you should’ve left Dani alone, so you force your brain to get back to life and run up the steps, back inside to help her with the drunker than usual crowd.

When your boyfriend picks you up, you pretend to nap all the way home, eyes shut so you can relive every electric instance between you and Rhett that night.

You blame exhaustion when asked why you took so long in the shower, turning off the lights so your boyfriend doesn't see your blushing cheeks when you remember the feeling of your fingers arching inside of you. It's a great night of sleep.

On Monday, an envelope full of cash waits for you at Lenny's office. His face says 'I don't even want to know'.

There's a note inside.

'Forgot your tip'.

—————————

Two weeks later, it's the 4th of July and the entire community is buzzing with small America glee.

Belonging wasn't a hugely familiar feeling for you, so you enjoyed watching everyone get excited to celebrate the holiday together. You considered calling your friends from school to check in on them, but figured they'd be too busy in their expensive vacation homes.

Lenny was not immune to the cosmic energy surrounding the town, giving you guys the weekend off. There would be a bunch of vendors all over, hardly anyone would seek out the diner for once, so he wasn't even bothering opening up.

You volunteered to take both shifts, but he called you silly and 'ordered' you to have some fun.

Wasting time around the mansion with the distant family of your boyfriend was awkward. His dad was the sweetest one to you, but from afar. His mom ignored anyone who wasn't her sons, and the boys were insufferable so you stayed clear of their way.

You were currently hanging by the pool, glad the boys were busy with work on the field and your mother-in-law dozed off after her third Long Island.

The sun is not too bright, there's a breeze and the calming sound of the pool cleaner going off. A book is open on your lap.

Rhett Abbott is the only thing your brain seems to want to focus on. For every paragraph you read, a slightly varied speck of blue from his eyes flashes through your mind.

You're scared of it, truthfully.

Of developing deeper feelings for another family boy, bull rider, youngest brother. They tend to not be good with…emotions. You're bad enough on your own.

It's worse, too, because you actually simpathyze with his family. Thinking about the uninhibited Amelia immediately comforts you. This is not good at all.

It wasn't the point. The future is not here, but in Boston, where you'll finish school and hopefully stay away from men completely.

Your phone buzzes on your stomach. You pick it up to texts from Danielle. She wants to know if you'll be at the fair this afternoon. Her kid wants to go on all of the inflatables with her school mates and she might need assistance.

Of course, you tell her.

The boys are more excited for the rodeo. There are no prizes or score keeping this time, just a celebratory show.

It's an excuse to get away from them, who told you they are not kids anymore and prefer to say home drinking until it's time for the real event.

Sure, it crosses your mind. He's an Abbott. He'll be there, undoubtedly.

All day, you run up and down with your coworker and friend, letting the other moms follow the kids on the Carroussel and the Ferris Wheel while you two quickly sneak away to drink sangrias.

You haven't laughed this hard in a long time. It's completely different from what you do with your friends from home, and part of you is endeared by it. A part you didn't know existed.

Shiree, Dani's kid, is one of the funniest little kids you've ever had the pleasure of helping babysit. Her mom says it's not from her (absent) father, so she's a natural, which makes you love her even more.

Later, the three of you are sitting at a picnic table, taking a break to eat terribly greasy and tasty food - your boyfriend would be repulsed by you right now and you consider eating more - when someone calls out your name.

It's Amelia. Her blue eyes are the size of golf balls, on the verge of tears, and her voice is so shaky it tears your heart in half.

Instinctively, your arms spread open and she walks right into them, small hands closing around the back of your neck. You smooth her blonde hair comfortingly, asking what's the matter.

"I can't find my dad."

Danielle sighs across the table, gathering your things quickly and lifting Shiree - who shyly waves to Amy - on her arms.

"We'll help you look, alright?"

You stick together, Amelia's painted nails digging into the palm of your hand, peeking over the crowd as you walk through the large field.

After a few minutes, you spot Cecilia, the matriarch, standing up next to a picnic table, talking animatedly to another family.

On your tip-toes, you point her out to the little girl chewing the inside of her cheek, relief obvious in your voice.

Dani and Shiree follow behind as you take Amy in the direction of her grandmother. On the way, you notice the rest of the Abbotts sitting on the table.

Amelia has to tug you forward to unstuck your feet from the ground.

Rhett's eyes are already drinking you in.

Approaching the table, you have an uncomfortable smile on your face, nodding at the men and choosing to explain yourself to the older woman.

"What is this? We sent you to get corn ten minutes ago and you come back with a group and no food?"

"Oh." She's not mad, clearly joking, but you're still confused. "She said she was lost."

The corn stand was right next to your table. Shiree was eating some. There was no way Amelia could have missed it. Why didn't she tell you to help her find it, instead of her father?

You're looking down at the child, who quickly recovers from her panicked state and shrugs before letting go of your hand. Danielle is holding her laughter next to you.

An older man, who you assume to be Royal, the boys' father, speaks up in a resounding voice. "Why didn't you call us? I gave you my phone for this sort of thing."

The blonde girl shrugs again, standing on her knees on the bench. "Forgot I had it."

Perry exchanges a look with his daughter, shaking his head, and you ignore Dani elbowing you in the ribs.

"Dad, can Shiree stay?"

"You mean, can uncle Rhett's friend stay, don't you?"

"Well, we can't tell her to go away, they came together."

Cecilia chuckles and pushes you towards the table. "You're clearly welcome, dear."

You're not so sure. Rhett's arms are crossed and he's not looking at you.

Conveniently, your phone rings.

"Hey." You're not sure you want your boyfriend to save you out of this one. It's been a good day. Immediately, he asks who's around and why you're not addressing him properly. "Sorry, baby, the signal is kinda bad."

Shiree has already jumped out of her mother's arms and found her place next to Amelia, both discussing which game to play on her grandfather's phone. Dani's making small talk with Perry, pulling two chairs to the table. You meet Rhett's eyes and he smiles softly.

"You know what? Really bad reception here. We're eating, Shiree found a friend…Just text me when you're ready to go. Bye."

You'll answer to your rudeness later. For now, you take the plastic chair next to Dani with a barely contained grin.

The next few hours fly by swiftly, it's almost sad. You have a great time breaking down Royal's strong man front alongside Amelia and Shiree, stomach hurting with how much you laugh at their antics. Cecilia tells you she hasn't seem him this open in a while, and you feel a weird sense of pride.

Dani, Perry and Rhett are on their own separate world. The latter doesn't exchange a word with you, despite a number of stolen glances throughout the afternoon.

At one point, Amelia jokes his favorite attraction is not the mechanical bull, but the tunnel of love (which they don't even have) and you can only imagine you're matching his pink cheeks. He blames his brother for the way his daughter freely mocks him.

All good things come to an end, and your phone pings three times in a row in your back pocket, and you know it's over. Taking it out, it's dark enough that the screen highlights your disappointed expression.

You get up, stretching your arms out, not missing the way Rhett's eyes follow the movement.

"My ride's here." You hug Amelia goodbye very tightly, before turning back to Dani. "Are you sure you don't want to come?"

"Sorry angel, she's tired, which means I'm destroyed."

Kissing her head and Shiree's cheek, you gather yourself to leave.

"I'll see the rest of you at the rodeo, I'm assuming?" The family nods, all a little tipsy. Stifling a laugh, you quietly but boldly turn to Rhett before leaving. "Good luck tonight."

He acknowledges you, a little surprised. But not more than you when he briefly takes your hand, fingers grazing in an awkward move. No one notices, and he turns back to the table immediately. You walk away with a smile and weak legs.

There's not much to do when you arrive at the arena.

Just a few hours after you left, the Abbots made their way to the stands, waiting to watch their son. Royal has a questionable look on his face when he notices who you're sitting next to and that pride you felt earlier goes down the drain.

You and him got pretty tipsy throughout the day, he at home with his brothers and you at the fair with Danielle, and neither of you are stopping anytime soon.

Being a city girl, you can hold your liquor. Your boyfriend, however, finally breaks into his clingy self. His hands are all over your body. You keep trying to push him off subtly under the excuse of talking to the group of girls with you but he's very persistent.

The boys sent the girls to get the next round and you're walking with them, excitedly nodding to one of them when rapid summer rain surprises all of you. Laughing at their groans and yelps, you lend the blonde complaining about her hair your coat and tell them to just go back to the stands, you'll get the drinks, it's fine.

While waiting, someone playfully kicks the soles of your crossed shoes. Heat spreads through you despite your soaked clothes.

"Got my tip?"

He's so close to you, speaking so low into your ear, breathing down your neck.

You throw a quick glance behind your back, tip of your nose an inch away from his, and you notice his half-lidded eyes. A smile threatens to appear so you interrupt it with a huff.

"You know I did. Dick."

He slides aside, leaning his forearm on the counter where you wait for the nice lady to bring your beers, playfully bumping you in the shoulder and looking up at you from under his hat. It's insufferably effective when he does that.

"Think you mean 'thank you'. Dontcha?"

You hate the way these types of western men garble their words. You hate even more that you want Rhett to get behind you again and tell you all the things he could do to warm your drenched body.

The two of you have been staring at each other for a minute, so you recollect yourself, meaning it when you thank him.

"Thank you." In your drunken state, you stretch the sentiment. "It's an insane person thing to do and I don't deserve how good you are, and it's secretly eating me alive…but thank you."

Blue eyes shine in what you hope is adoration, as he smiles at your excessive sharing.

The nice lady comes back with five plastic cups, and Rhett asks for one for himself. He calls her honey and you audibly scoff, another drunken confession of how he makes you feel.

Rhett moves his mouth to comment on it, but you cut him off, embarrassed about your momentary lack of restraint.

"Should you be drinking before your little show?"

His brows furrow at the dismissive tone, seemingly offended at how you referred to what he does for a living.

"Why?" You get hit by his smell - sweat, leather and fresh grass - when he squares up and steps so close his boots bump into your sneakers. "Worried 'bout me?"

"Fuck off, hotshot." He blinks at your crudeness. You are mad. Mad that he's openly pushing your buttons, and that it's working, and you're allowing it to. "Just don't fall off and break your neck. It would suck for Amelia to lose the best material she has for her future stand up comedy."

Rhett laughs, and the sound is incredibly gratifying. You're so drunk it nearly makes you moan in public.

You have no reason to still be here, talking to him. One of the boys will come looking for their beers anytime now. It would be best for you to leave and end this conversation before you dig a deeper grave. But it's so nice, to capture him. It's becoming addictive.

"As long as you stick around she'll have a great mentor for that mean sense of humour you two share."

"Are you admitting I'm funny?"

"I'm admitting you're mean!"

"Abbott, you're a baby."

"I'm sensitive."

He puts his hand over his heart, and your heads lean in, making direct eye contact. You're laughing, voices high-pitched, ignoring the lady bringing Rhett's beer completely.

When she coughs, you turn your head away flustered, and what you see makes your easy expression falter immediately.

It's your boyfriend, and Maria. Together, probably coming to check on the group's drinks. He's too gone to recognize Rhett from a distance, but Maria's eyebrows are furrowed and her step is uncertain, taken aback.

Seeing your boyfriend reminded you that you have one. And an image to maintain, for your own safety. You shouldn't risk Rhett, or anyone else, thinking that you're going to leave your boyfriend for him. That's not what's happening, despite what your silly heart desires.

Taking your cue to leave, you take self preservation too far.

"We've been caught by two confused people. One of which is very cute and seems unhappy she's not the one getting your attention, currently." Slurred words, moreso because you're trying to make them sound honest. Rhett furrows his brows and you have to hold back against smoothing them again. Unfair. "I mean bye."

You're picking up the five cups, uncomfortable with your own words, and start walking away before turning back, almost spilling the yellow liquid on the confused looking boy.

"Oh, and please don't get hurt. I'll hate seeing it. Make my life easier. You seem to like doing that anyway."

Before you can see his reaction, you're smiling big at your boyfriend and kissing him back, accepting his help with the cups. Maria walks right past you, nervous hands in her jeans' pockets. Even in your tipsy moment, your heart annoyingly insists on breaking a little.

Rhett has a bad night riding, while the family you came with has a successful one. And that means your boyfriend is being louder and warmer than ever, overcompensating for the many weeks prior where his insecurities were in charge.

He entertains people congratulating him for a few minutes, you under his arms, before whispering in your ear that he needs to go home to fuck you.

It's not exciting or promising, but he is still your boyfriend, you are still his girlfriend. This is an important reminder.

Later, you're trying your best on top but losing to boredom anyways when he comes down the side of your leg.

He's in the shower while you finally work on yourself, the scent of bodywash over your clean and still wet skin facilitating things for you. It's not your bed you imagine laying on, or your hand pulling your hair, or that it's yourself fucking your slick folds.

It's so wrong for you to think of the young Abbott boy when you just shoved him into the hands of another, beautiful, single woman. But it's the only face - and most importaly, voice - that gets your spread legs shaking and the knot in your stomach to release.

A name starts to slip away from your tongue before you catch yourself, covering your mouth with your hands and snapping your head towards the bathroom door. He's still in there and you pant back into bliss.

The bell ring pulls you away from your thoughts. Did they forget their keys?

Dressing up quickly, you walk into the bathroom and tell your boyfriend someone's at the door. He tells you to get it but that he will be right there, since it'll hardly be for you.

Your knees almost buckle when you open the door to find Rhett, holding the coat you had lended to the blonde girl when it started raining in the arena.

"Rhett, are you serious?"

You're curt, and it seems to upset him, genuinely. But what was he thinking, coming here? With your coat?

"I was just-" A hiccup. He's wasted. "On my way home, and one of the girls with Maria mentioned giving this back to ya."

He shrugs and your eyes widen in disbelief.

"And you volunteered?"

"Thought-" Hiccup. "'D be nice."

Rhett leans against the doorway, looking inside, and you have the forethought to push him back before he invites himself in. He grabs your wrist whilst you steady him on top of the entrance's mat.

Curious, you glance past him, checking for a figure on his passenger seat.

"Looking for someone?"

"No!" You reprimand him for his flirty tone. "No. You need to leave."

In that moment, Rhett notices the blonde man coming down the stairs.

Jesus. Your boyfriend's still dripping, in nothing but sweatpants and a towel thrown over his shoulder.

He strides slowly, pulling you into him with his arm around your torso. It's more than obvious what just happened.

It's no scandal. You're a couple. But to have Rhett see into your life together…You can't look at the stumbling - rather melancholic - mess under the driveway light.

"What's going on?"

"Coat. Brought her-"

"I gave it to one of the girls earlier, and she sent Abbott to give it back."

No way in hell you're letting him speak under these circumstances.

Your boyfriend agressively takes the coat from his hands, looking it over.

"It's ruined, I'll buy you another one."

A kiss to the crown of your head.

Rhett looks intensely at the blonde, eyes sharp and jaw set. He's shorter, slimmer, and drunk. For fuck's sake.

"Anything else?"

God, please don't say anything. Just leave.

Thankfully, all that unfolds is a headshake, his chin down. Before your boyfriend can rudely shut the door on Rhett's face, concern rules over caution.

"Drive safe."

You plea with your eyes, but he barely takes it in before turning around and stomping to his struck.

The door is pushed and you don't see him drive off, running up the stairs to lock yourself in the bathroom and continue your tradition of begging the universe to protect him.

—————————

Games were not something you ever understood. Your priority lies in being straightforward and honest, as much as possible.

Hence why you're wrecking your brain over what his objective is.

You're still on the night shift.

Lenny said you have been granted permission to change back, but Dani could spend more time with her daughter this way, so you denied. He would not complain, obviously, feeling like he had a tighter rope around your neck when you worked nights and spent mornings writing inside your room, within his eyesight.

What none of you could have predicted was Rhett Abbott coming in every night. For half an hour, ordering one cup of coffee and leaving.

The other girls rushed to serve him. He made them laugh and scribble their numbers (the ones he didn't already have) on a stained napkin. Old school, with proof of purchase.

He doesn't make an effort to draw your attention (he doesn't need to, turns out) and you leave him be. Neither of you owes each other a single thing.

One night, he comes in with Amelia and his mother while you're on your break.

Your wishes to go by unseen are ignored when the little girl waves, forcing you to wave back with a smile that does not please your boyfriend. He's sitting across from you at one of the booths, having popped by at your request since you needed a small favor.

Rhett, ever the quiet instigator, leads the girls to the booth after yours. If you look up, you'll meet his and Cecilia's eyes.

As naturally as possible, you cough and go back to your conversation.

"Ok. Like you said, it's short, but I don't feel confident dragging it on for a few more chapters. I haven't done this in a while and it'll probably just confuse me and it'll end up shit."

Amongst other things, your boyfriend was a critic. Showing him the story you've been working on is sure to provide insight, good and bad.

"I see that." He pushes your laptop back on the table. It sits between you, lighting up your features. He has something to say. "I just don't get it."

"The metaphor? It's a little wonky and shoved in at the end, I know, but-"

"No, not the story. I mean the point of all this. Why are you writing something no one's ever gonna read?"

Oh.

Stupidly, you had thought he would feel good about your decision to share this with him. Like you used to do before you got accepted into university. Fix what you broke this morning.

"Practice. Not letting inspiration, albeit short, go to waste? I don't know."

You're picking at the skin around your nails and he grabs your hands to stop the agitation. He notices you flinch, and sighs.

"Is this what's best for us? Writing…I understand it as a hobby, but you're not gonna have a career out of it so why bother?"

You blink.

"Can you just tell me what you thought about the story?"

Another disinterested sigh.

"Not your best, not your worst. Who cares?" His phone rings and he stands up, gathering his things. "Maybe you could help with the family business. In a position where you don't need to understand much about farming and whatnot. Think about it."

With a kiss to your cheek, he leaves you there, unmovable. Empty. He managed to not do the simple thing you asked of him and disencourage you of any future in doing what you love. You should ask Lenny about picking up extra shifts.

Amy's head pops up, hopeful eyes demanding you to collect yourself and answer her request. She wants to read your story.

If she heard, so did the other two.

Tears threaten to stream down your cheeks when you glance at them, anticipating their pitying looks. The nausea grows at the sight.

Closing the laptop's lid with automatic movements, you politely smile at the child before apologizing. "Maybe some other time. Okay?"

The remaining of your break is spent in the bathroom, looking at the words you had typed and debating if it's worth your energy to rewrite them into a better story. Maybe if it was good enough, one person could tell you to not give up, anyone.

When you return, the Abbotts are gone and you pass by the seventh crumpled napkin with prettily scribbled digits in the bin.

Just a few more hours before you can go home to a good book.

You're waiting for a fresh pot to finish brewing when he texts you. 'Find your own ride home tonight'.

It’s past closing time and you're still waiting for him to show up.

Lenny offers to drive you but you ensure him you'll be fine. He always picks you up.

Twenty minutes later, bright headlights shine through the windows. You can finally stop typing.

You're locking the front door, struggling with the lights off, when you hear the truck's door slam. You swallow.

"I don't need a hug hello or an apology kiss."

"Are you sure? I think it would help."

A shiver runs down your bare legs, voice making you shoot up and smooth down the dress, wondering if he saw anything when you bent over to try and find the lock.

"Seriously?"

Rhett smiles.

"How many times are you gon' ask me that?"

You don't concede yet. Crossing your arms and hugging yourself tighter.

"Why are you here?"

Dark boots prop him up to sit on top of the hood, popping gum into his mouth and leaning on his elbows. "He's been at the bar since I got there, right after I dropped mom and Amy back home. He's not coming."

The straps of your purse burn your palm as you grip them tighter, holding back the tears. Fuck how you hate crying.

It's hardly ever over heartbreak or pain, but frustration and anger. That suffocating feeling that you have no power. That things could be better, they just won't be.

Rhett has seen you break too many times now. It almost pisses you off, how often he has invaded your bad moments. You two are not intimate enough to peer into each other's vulnerabilities.

Wetness pools at your waterline again, mad that you can't even control his impression of you due to your overflowing emotions.

Your teeth hurt as you grit them together, snifling, fighting to keep your composure.

"He was pissed. No way he saw me." Need dominates his tone. Followed by bitterness. "A pretty redhead kept his attention elsewhere."

You can't stop the loud exhale that almost takes you down to your knees. Almost.

Again, it's embarrassing that Rhett knows all of this. Knows you let your boyfriend cheat, because you two haven't enjoyed each other in over a year. You don't love him, you don't want to keep him. Let him have his indulgences while you plan your leave.

He jumps back to the ground, raising dust when he walks to the passenger side and opens the door, circling back and taking his seat behind the wheel.

Asshole. Why does he make you feel like this? Like running to his car and driving away with no destination. Stopping at dingy motels. Making good use of the backseats.

You tell yourself it's just the fantasy of being with someone who isn't your boyfriend.

His car smells like sex and spilled bourbon, for fuck's sake.

In a beautiful instance of contradiction, he sternly orders you to put your seatbelt on.

A good bad boy. It's stronger than you, and you break into a fit of laughter.

Poor guy, he is utterly confused.

Pulling out of the diner's parking lot, he's fed up with your crisis.

"Jesus." His head is shaking, but amusument colors his cheeks.

As if instinctively protective, he leans over and pulls the belt across your body. He fits the smell in his truck perfectly, and his tanned skin is warm when it makes contact with your uncovered arms.

"That's better. Brat."

You don't have it in you to laugh anymore.

When asked if you're hungry, your stomach answers for you and he chuckles, making a turn.

(Don't think about the way the lights shine over his sharp features or how he sits lazily, comfortably directing the steering wheel with loose hands, fingers tapping the leather. Look away.)

You do. But then his head turns. His gaze is excruciating, and your thighs are sweating on the seat. For the first time today, you're glad to have picked out a sundress.

Rhett makes smarter choices and takes you to a drive-through.

You convince him to park somewhere and eat out of the car. You're a terrible messy eater and you'd feel bad about getting his car dirty. Sure, we wouldn't want that, he said. Fine, dirtier.

He lets you steal his fries even after you said you didn't want any. You hand him the ketchup packets. Your drinks sit between you on the hood, your ankles crossed, kicking your feet mindlessly.

"Feeling good?"

He licks grease from his fingers.

You hum, stupid smile stuck on your lips.

"It's ok to break the rules sometimes."

"Oh my God." You groan, throwing your head back and crunching the wrapping paper in your hand. "You think I'm a fucking prude."

He points to your drinks. His beer and your water. You roll your eyes almost cartoonishly.

"Beer makes me burp too much. We're not there yet."

His eyebrows raise at your possible implications. That you're becoming acquainted, warming up to each other. It denotes effort and will. Your brain wants to take it back, but your heart beats you to the punch and you shut yourself up with a sip.

"I'm more than my relationship, Abbott." His eyes say he wants to believe you. "I used to want to be a street car racer."

He almost chokes on his burger.

"Yeah, yeah, I know. But it's true. My friends and I used to skip class and fuck around at the autorepair shop down the street. Then the mechanics would take us to actually watch races. It was a lot of fun, I made some great friends, a couple of them taught me everything they could. You'd be impressed at my drifting skills."

"Wow." He laughs with his whole body. It's painfully cute. "What happened?"

You blink, taking another sip, pushing out the cruel reality. A name. "Everything changed after him. We spent long nights talking about academia, and the future, and education. I was good at school, but suddenly I had a real opportunity - hope- to go to a proper school. Develop my writing. I always liked it but it was pretty obvious to me that you either use your established wealth to build your career, or you probably die poor. He made it seem like I had support, at last."

Rhett repeats his question.

"I guess he never meant it, had his own disappointments. Life is never how you expect it to be. Happens."

"You never talk about your parents. What do they think of all this?"

You shrug. "Grew up in foster care."

Realization crosses his face. It does put everything into perspective.

"'M learning a lot about you tonight."

"Regret it already?"

His hand brings the bottle up to his lips, stopping just before as he pretends to consider it. With a generous grin, he shakes his head.

Silence fills the night as you let him finish his beer.

The breeze plays with your hair, dress trapped between your thighs to avoid an accident, spinning the rings on your fingers.

Breaking out of his laid back position, Rhett grabs your hand and turns it in his own, inspecting it. His thumb massages the center of your palm while he pretends to investigate every one of your rings. Then he stops, feels one of your tense nerves and opens his palm, it glued to the back of your hand.

We're alike.

Blue eyes seek yours, and you roll them again. His bruises are from riding undomesticated animals.

"Writing is an arduous job." To be fair, you can't always pull your phone or laptop at work to take note of an idea. The old pen and paper still play their role. He has one more endearing smile for you. Huffing, and pulling your hand away, you ask for the time. "We should go."

He simply nods, adjusting the hat on his head and jumping off the hood. He almost brings the trash with him to the car, before you cut in front of him and rip it from his hands, walking the very short distance to a dumpster. Honestly.

"Did you just separate our garbage?"

"That's what the signs on the dumpsters are for, princess." You tease him. He started it. 'Our' garbage. "Such a pretty head with nothing but air in it."

You climb onto the passenger seat and he chuckles, turning on the truck. If you don't look for a tinge of pink in his cheeks, maybe he will grant you the same kindness.

He's running through every yellow light and it makes you a little sick, the taste of fast food unforgivable. You remember something.

"Still have some of that gum?"

"Uh, yeah. Jacket pocket."

He points to the back seat. Unfortunately, it isn't dark enough in this town that you don't see defined muscles when his arms raise.

You reach for the plastic packet, popping a piece into your mouth, but something catches your eye. Plucked begonias. It's not a full bouquet, looks more like he grabbed them from someone's yard in a rush.

"What are these doing here?"

You're enamored with the delicate shade of pink. Until who they might be for crosses your mind. Honestly, you would get her flowers too. Half the town would.

"Oh, yeah. They're for you." You have never looked up so fast, glad the car has finally been stopped by a red light. Rhett scratches the back of his neck. "Uhm, Amy wanted to gift you something from our land. She thought about a million things before landing on flowers though. She hopes you like pink."

C'mon, not tears again. You're not even angry. The total opposite, actually.

"I do."

The light has turned green again, but Rhett is reluctant to drive. "You okay?"

You only nod, blinking the tears away and indicating for him to go.

He does, but he continues to glance your way every few seconds, pushing his hair back. You're messing with the hat he abandoned on the console.

"Look, I'm sorry. I have to ask. How's your plan going? How close are you to what you need?"

Jesus, did you give something away?

"Shit, maybe you can read my mind. Or you're psychic."

"What does- what does that mean?"

Dejectedly hitting the headrest, you don't even think twice before sharing. It's unlike you but you don't deny yourself the relief.

"Don't be…judgemental. But. He needed help and I helped him."

He's confused. "You helped him…?"

"He needed some money and I gave it to him."

"What?"

He runs past a stop sign and you scold him, slapping his midsection with his own hat.

"Not all of it. A part."

"He's rich!"

If it weren't so ironic, it would be funny. It's the same exasperated reaction you had when your boyfriend begged you this morning. It was the reason you two fought, and why you were trying to make amends with the draft of your story. Clearly, it wasn't enough.

"He's in a lot of debt with his business ventures, alright? And, it's for his dad! You know medication is criminally expensive in this country."

The older man was very sick. Everyone budged in as much as they could to help. They might be weird fucking people, but they are a family.

"So you paid for his share. Do they even know? Or did he use you to keep his good son image too?"

You don't say anything. Of course he doesn't deserve it. You should've said no and dumped him right there. But you do owe his father a lot.

"I didn't use the money you gave me. I took it out of the extra shifts money. And I'll pay you back for the food tonight."

He stutters, looking at you with an undescribable expression. "I'm not mad about that! And don't you dare 'pay me back'. I took you out to eat, I'm not buying you out. Did he fuck you up this bad?"

Your mouth opens to answer but it's not worth it.

Rhett bites his own hand, letting a beat of silence befall you before improvising a U-turn in the middle of the street and speeding.

"Hey, what the fuck?"

Your voice is soft, confused but not entirely put off by the speed. Your boyfriend drives fast all the time, but he gloats too much, it takes away the fun for you. Rhett is also better at riding. The two things are probably not as correlated as you want them to be, but it does imply better control.

You trust him more, is the point.

(The thought terrifies you as much as it is exciting. Kind of like his driving right now.)

Another red light. Awareness dawns on him. He turns to you, quiet and a little unlike himself, but determined.

"You don't have to go home tonight. Fuck him. Do you want to go home?"

You don't need time to consider. "No."

"Okay."

Bright green reflects off his face and he's speeding again, taking you somewhere you hope is not his home.

He finally pulls up to a small neighboorhood. A blue little house, innocently sitting amongst brighter and bigger properties.

The ignition is switched off.

"It's a friend's, he's out of town."

Before you can acknowledge it, he's grabbing the hat from your hands and stepping out of the car and opening your door. He looks up and down the empty, quiet street. Anywhere but you.

You forget the begonias.

Rhett picks a key from the flower pot, poorly hidden in the decorative rocks.

It smells good inside, like fresh laundry. It hasn't been left uninhabited for long.

"I'm surprised to hear you have friends."

He frees the space in front of the sink for you to wash your hands as well, but throws the paper towel roll at you before you can. You catch it, defying his poor throw with a look.

"Don't push it."

"I mean it. I never see you with anyone outside of your family. Except for-"

Why? Why did you start that sentence?

For a moment, all you hear is the water running.

"For?"

Ah, shit. You close the tap, cringing and breathing in deeply before turning around and looking for the paper towel you could've sworn you just put down.

"Maria."

You drag the name out. It comes off more suggestive, and less teasing. You're blowing this, trying to sound like a friend picking on him but reaching more into a creepy side. At least your avoidant eyes find the towels.

"What do you know about that?"

Ice cold. You shiver.

"I have eyes."

Neither of you show signs of kidding. You overstepped.

"Sorry, I shouldn't-"

"Is that why you act weird when you see her? Why you left, that day at the rodeo?"

You cringe again, hearing your nervous laugh.

"What?"

"Don't play dumb, kitten. We both know that you're not."

"What did you just call me?"

Bite the bait.

"Answer me."

Fuck. His posture is too intimidating for you to fight against.

"I mean, sort of. Yes. I'm giving you two privacy." He scoffs, shaking his head. "Are you mad? Jesus, Rhett. I'm not making fun of you. It's a crush. It's sweet."

Dirty boots ruin a pristine floor, Rhett stopping inches away. A hand runs down his face.

"Did Perry say something?"

"Amy. Who was told by Perry."

He huffs humorless.

"Who needs enemies…"

You snicker at his childishness.

"Relax, hotshot. Damn, I see what he means now, you are scared of her! I get it, she's hot."

"Scared?" He squints at you, but his voice cracks. He steps closer and you push back against the sink, your dress rises an inch. "Do I look scared now?"

You remember him calling you a goody two-shoes earlier. Out of (stupid) pride, you won't give him the reaction he's expecting, fuck that. So you push back.

"Of course not. It's different." His arms are now trapping you, asking for elaboration. You look him up and down, raising your eyebrows before scoffing and rolling your eyes, challenging. You look away, then slow blink back to him. "Maria is a beautiful, single woman who has known you forever. There are stakes. It's real."

"And you?"

The tip of his nose is brushing yours, but you refuse to be the submissive one (for now) and angle your head up, lifting his along. It's like a dance, enticing and reckless.

Whispering is more appropriate.

"You and I are friends." Your lips are parted, tongue hitting your teeth provocatively, leaning your head back and he follows in a daze. You have to hold back laughter. "I have a boyfriend. You can't have me. It's playing with food you're never gonna taste. Meaningless."

At the last word, it's as if you were a robot being reset. You straighten up, pat his chest and push him off, walking towards the door. You can't possibly hang around him after all that. And did you actually think you could spend the night somewhere that isn't your boyfriend's house without consequences? You're in enough trouble as it is.

From the same spot in the kitchen you two were completely sharing seconds ago, he calls your name. It's breathless.

"Stay."

"Am I your dog?" You laugh, but he doesn't. His hand is closed in a fist.

"I can't offer many of the things he provid- Actually, fuck that. What does he provide? His daddy's money? I know you don't actually care about that. So, what? Fear, dependence, pain? I could go on."

"Please don't."

You get it. He's right. Most men can do better than that, and the money was only another factor that allowed him to control you, you've abdicated from it as soon as you got the waitressing job.

"I'm not saying you should be with me-"

"I know, you mentioned."

He winces at your sudden change in demeanor, less apologetic. It agitates him, and he powers forward. This time, you don't step back.

"But I can make you feel good. Don't you think you deserve that?" No. You don't. This is wrong. It doesn't mean you don't want it. "And before you can say it, no, it's not a favor. I want it as much as you."

You almost drop to the floor with the shock of his sentence.

"Who says I want it?"

You're stalling, flight or fight instinct taking time to boot up.

He laughs. At you. God, do you look cock deprived or something?

"Are you gonna say he satisfies you?"

"Are you gonna say you can?" Before he can answer, you cut him off, serious again. "Look, I'm not going to do what he does. It's not me."

Rhett looks, somehow, more baffled.

"You're not…like him. This is not the same thing. Tell me you understand that."

"Cheating-"

"On the guy who abuses you."

He's holding your arm, caressing old bruises that haven't healed yet, but he's looking at you. Deep into your soul.

Terrible time for your eyes to tear up again. You're overwhelmed with desire and conflict, afraid of how you might feel after but desperate to let go.

Calloused thumbs dry your face. He's so close…

"Abbott, turning into one of your girls is the last thing I wanted, for the record."

A cheater and a liar, all in one night.

"You're the one in a relationship. If anything, I'm one of your boys."

You gasp, pushing back on his hand around your neck and furrowing your brows at him. "You're fucking revolting."

"We'll see about that. Shut up, would you? Damn."

The latter is basically said into your lips.

His other hand has risen fron your shoulder, to your neck, and finally your jaw. More eager than you were ready to admit, you don't waste time and open your mouth for his tongue to slip in. It hasn't been ten seconds and you're both breathing heavily.

You bite his lip and he sucks on your tongue, a surprising minty taste. That's when you feel Rhett practically pick the gum you forgot you were chewing from the back of your mouth and turn away to spit it out.

He catches the roll of your eyes.

"Does everything prick your sensitive fucking fingers, princess? I'll show you how to be less pent-up."

The tip of his hat bumps your forehead when he picks you up, setting you down on the little table by the entrance hall after knocking everything to the ground.

His lips barely leave yours, which is a shame, you wish you could see if his eyes were blown out.

The table rocks against the wall and you notice him buckle when it grazes his crotch. Bless those thight fucking jeans.

"Rhett. Underwear."

Your hips lift so he can pull them down your legs, easily pushing the fabric of your sundress until you're exposed. He doesn't hesitate to run two fingers along already slick folds.

You fist the thin material of his shirt, head dropping to hide in his neck when he pushes them inside. "Fuck. It's better than mine."

He growls, and it's so important to you, to hear this low speaking, timid, ungiving cowboy lose himself under you.

"Tell me." You already know what he's going to ask. With your forehead still stuck to his collarbone, your hands fly to his belt, pulling him forward before you can start unbuckling him. "You've thought about this, haven't you?"

You stop just before pulling him free, fingers crooking inside his boxers. Your head rises enough that you can whisper in his ear.

"Well, someone's gotta help me finish."

Like that, his free hand that was pressing your breasts moves to your throat, bringing you back to where he can push his tongue down it.

He pulls his own underwear off, slowly removing his fingers, swiping them up and circling your clit. You hiss into him and he chuckles. You finally open your eyes. Yeah, the blue outline of his pupils is very thin.

Your smile props him to bunch up your dress and pull you forward.

Before he can fuck you, you're asking that he fullfils one (please, just that one) of your wishes. And like magic, he reads your mind once more.

The hand that was lightly placed around your throat slides to your neck, grabbing a fistful of your hair and pulling on it. You could fucking cry.

He probably notices, you're not hiding anything from him, and when he thrusts into you, it's unforgiving.

The sounds that come out blend perfectly in the air. Maybe he wasn't lying, and he did want this as much as you. It's not too unbelievable that he was letting all of this want build up, not used to meeting a girl and not fucking her the same night.

He slaps your clit twice and you cuss him out. "Still with me? Good. Thought I lost ya."

"Suddenly, so many words to say. Fucking move, Rhett."

A tug to your scalp. It's delirious.

"My name…when you're mad…I'm gonna fucking jerk off to that. Again."

Your eyes widen at the last minute revelation, with little time to properly tease him because he's finally moving. And, fuck, it's heaven.

You're so tired of being embarrassed in front of him but this is truly the last thing you can control. Your walls are tightening faster with each thrust. It's not gonna take too long.

"Rhett, I'm s-sorry. I'm close."

His left hand keeps switching from your hips to your ass, squeezing as much skin as he can grab.

"Good. That's the point." He stops moving to look at you. His eyes are once again taking your breath away, even when they are this dark. "Don't apologize. Tell me what to do."

It might have been too intimate, but you take his lips in a quiet, soft kiss. "Just keep moving. Faster."

He takes a second to follow your instructions, but when he does, it is so obedient your arm pushes the hat off his head so you can embrace him and grab more of his hair, bringing him closer.

His forehead is drenching your neck in sweat, your fingers gripping the thick blonde strands, his a little more lazily tugging on yours. He uses his hold on your hair to angle your bodies better, forcing you to sink down on his cock as he shoots up.

Your hips loudly knock against each other, the table still battering the wall.

It's coming, your legs and abdomen straining, cooing in his ear. His arms are probably burning.

Two seconds later and you hit your climax together. It's the loudest you have ever heard him be.

You're hugging him tight, face hiding in his neck again, body spasming. It shouldn't be such a surprise when tears slip out of your eyes.

He's still panting, soothingly running one hand up and down your back, the other scratching your scalp after brutally pulling on it.

You pull back, and his eyes widen a little at your wet face. "Did I hurt you?"

"Get over yourself."

He laughs while drying your face for the upteenth time.

"I don't know, I never made a girl cry during sex before."

"Now that, I highly doubt."

You finally say something that gets him to roll his eyes, and he clearly doesn't do it often. His hand squeezes your hip as he pulls out, and warm fluid spills down your legs.

"Shit."

He realizes at the same time as you.

"Oh, uhm, the bathroom. Last door down the hallway."

"Shit!"

You don't mean to make him feel bad or guilty. Both of you forgot. You push him aside and jump off the table, awkwardly strutting to the toilet.

You pee and dry yourself the best you can, but there's no way you're fucking sleeping tonight.

The water out of the sink is thankfully ice cold as it drips down your face, neck and chest.

When you return to the living room, Rhett is chewing on his lip, staring at your underwear he must have picked up and put on top of the cushions on the couch.

You pick it up.

"Can you…?"

He turns around. It's silly, of course, but even with his back turned, your skin is burning.

The walk to the car is short and everlasting at the same time.

Thinking that you truly just used his friend's place in the middle of a nice residential street to secretly fuck and leave is insane. He didn't even consent to it being used for that. He didn't even know you. Did this happen before, with other girls?

You don't look up when he opens the passenger door, lost in your thoughts. As soon as it slams shut, you put your head in your hands and groan, fixing yourself before Rhett climbs inside too.

It's after four in the morning when he slows to a stop outside of your so called home.

The words come out too fast.

"We use protection. Him and I."

"Okay."

"Just- Because obviously he fucks other people on the side, and I don't want you to worry about getting any- uhm, anything."

He rolls his eyes and this time it doesn't seem lighthearted.

"That's great."

Another beat, and you can't shut up. "Do you? I know it's not my business but you did just- inside me…and you, allegedly, sleep around so I think-"

"You have nothing to worry about. I promise."

He doesn't take your word-vomit too well. Fist covering his lips, side-eyeing as you gather your purse from the backseat. You make sure to grab the begonias before unlocking the door and hopping out.

Your three second long debate about whether or not you should thank him becomes irrelevant the second you turn to shut the door and he's not looking at you.

So you let him go, shaky legs carrying you inside the silent mansion.

[phaltu]

How about Doctor/hospital/vet AU? Whether you do this prompt or not - you are amazing and talented and beautiful and none of us deserve you! Thank you for doing this prompt-a-thon!

prompt-a-thon, day 1 out of 7

Ahhh thank you so much sweetheart!! I’ve never had as much fun in a fandom as I have in this one ;_; I’d like to thank everyone for sending such lovely prompts AND so many kind words in as well! I really do appreciate it and appreciate every single one of you so much, this fandom has been a bottomless well of support and love!! My apologies if I couldn’t get to your request but know that if I could, I’d do each and every one of them!!

without further ado here’s a Doctor AU!!! ….kinda…

900 words, rated T or S for stupid, read the rest of the prompts here

Keith doesn’t believe in divine intervention, not to the degree that others do. Not normally anyways. Divine intervention might have prevented him from ending up at Denny’s at 3 A.M with Lance as they try to stuff hashbrowns into their face. They’ve sobered up from a shitty house party, and Keith’s never been this hungry in his life.

He chugs down some of his orange juice while Lance says something about having forgotten his mickey of Cuervo at the house party, and the door rings as two new patrons step in. One of them flies right over Keith’s head; he’s lanky and tall with sandy hair and what looks like an ever-present smirk. The other one is proof that maybe divine intervention is what brought Keith to this diner to begin with.

He’s tall and big. The first two are generally all that one needs to get onto Keith’s radar, but his face looks like God spent a little extra time on him. Keith’s never seen kinder eyes nor a sturdier jaw, and he doesn’t know what to do with either piece of information. The tequila might still be in his system but Keith knows that even sober, he’d be going googly-eyed over this white-haired man that’s asking for a table for two in a low, luxurious voice.

“Keith?” Lance waves a hand in front of his face. “Hello?”

Keith nods and Lance narrows his eyes, looking over his shoulders.

“Oh, for Christ’s sake,” he says, turning back to Keith and looking pointedly unimpressed. “Are you still drunk?”

“What?” Keith says absent-mindedly, watching the man. He’s wearing dark grey scrubs, matching the shorter man, and has a small logo on his side that matches the local university hospital. He watches as the two take a seat three tables down from Keith. The waitress takes their order, and Keith ignores Lance’s indignation in favour of hearing the man’s low rich voice ask her for a Santa Fe skillet.

“What about your diet, Dr.Shirogane?” The other man says, and Keith thinks he’s ready to ascend. He’s hot and a doctor. Dr.Shirogane chuckles, and Keith goes a little cross-eyed.

“Hey ugly,” Lance snaps his fingers in front of Keith’s face. “I’m talking to you.”

“Don’t care,” Keith deigns to give Lance one flat look, sticking his tongue out at him. Lance gives him the middle finger, and Keith ignores him, looking back to the current object of his still-slightly-tipsy desire.

And the man looks up while Keith sticks another hash brown into his mouth, and catches him staring. Keith’s eyes widen, and he sees the corner of the man’s mouth tick upwards.  Two things happen.

First, the man winks. Keith’s never had a man this hot wink at him before which leads to the second thing. The hashbrown Keith swallowed has decided to go down the wrong way, probably too overwhelmed by the wink.

Keith starts making a choking sound, and gestures wildly towards Lance. Lance looks unaffected.

“If you’re making noise then you’re fine,” He says, and for a good measure, adds a “Bitchass.”

Keith gives him the middle finger, but the act of it makes the hashbrown lodge itself even weirder down his throat. Keith goes silent and he grasps his throat, and Lance finally realizes that something is in fact going wrong.

“Fuck,” Lance says, eyes widening. “Fuck oh fuck oh fuck dude, what the fuck?”

Keith flails, and out of the corner of his eye he sees a large figure darting towards their table. He thinks it’s perhaps the grim reaper, eager to pull Keith into an early end, but said large figure yanks Keith up and thwacks his back five times, hard. Keith would be into it, if he wasn’t dying. Well-muscled arms wrap around him and clasp into a fist over his abdominals, and Keith feels the hands pound into his gut.

He chokes again, and on the third thrust, the hash brown spills out of his mouth, tumbling onto the ground like the pathetic piece of shit potato it is. He coughs, and it takes him a second to register that he’s on his tip toes before the large figure lets him down and turns him around. Keith finds himself getting pushed back until he’s sitting on the counter top of their table and is face-to-face with the unreasonably hot doctor from before.

“Holy shit,” Keith breathes, and he feels a large hand placed on top of his shoulder. He looks up, and notes that Hot Doctor’s face up close is significantly hotter than it was from a distance. “I almost died.”

“Not quite,” the man smiles kindly, and Keith can see his dinner companion try to get a glimpse of Keith over the man’s shoulders.  The man elbow him out of the way, and his friend makes a noise of protest.

“He choked because you’re hot,” Lance supplies helpfully from where he’s still seated and munching on his peameal bacon. “Just to let you know.”

“Maybe it’s better if I did die,” Keith grimaces, and the man goes a little pink around his ears. “Give me another one, let it finish the job.”

“Hey now,” the man’s hand is still on his shoulder, Keith realises. “Maybe you should try eating something that goes down a little better.”

“Yeah?” Keith asks, crossing his arms over his chest in a defensive manner. He’s going to kill Lance barehanded when they get back to their dorm. “Like what?”

“Why don’t I take you out to dinner and show you?” the man asks, his friend snorts, Lance makes an ooooh noise,  and Keith decides that just this once, revenge can wait another day.

[miyacreampie]

Lenny sensei's class has begun!~♡

“Naughty boy~♡”

synopsis 💭;; Ushijima being horny and desperate enough to touch himself while talking to us on the phone.

note 🖋️;; This is my first time writing something like this. It was something random that popped into my head lmao- sorry if it's shitty or doesn't make sense- I started writing it at 3am-

Male pronouns used.

Not enough.

Ushijima felt as if he needed something specific to help him get off. He had asked Tendou for help with his dilemma, and the redhead did so, albeit being surprised. Now, Tendou knew he shouldn't have been surprised, but Ushijima usually never showed any interest towards these kinds of things. But Ushijima was a man after all- it was bound to happen eventually.

The olive-haired man went through the sites Tendou had sent him, although it did make him cum, he still didn't feel satisfied. He texted his friend that it didn't work, but thanked him for his help. (Although that did take a while because his hand was shaking.)

‘Maybe if I try touching somewhere else it'll calm down..’ He spread his legs, reaching down to touch his hole. ‘I'll try this since that woman in the video seemed to enjoy it.’ Wakatoshi flinched and let out a shaky breath as he inserted one finger.

Just as he was about to insert a second finger, his phone rang. Ushijima didn't want to answer, but after he read the contact name, he answered it because he didn't feel like dealing with being attacked with questions. Especially during his current situation.

“Hey, ‘Shijima-kun!” (Y/n)'s tone of voice was as playful as Tendou's, but with a more adult charm to it. Ushiwaka's cock twitched upon hearing it. “I was wondering if you wanted to come over to my place for the weekend– it's cool if you can't. Heh.”

Another finger entered Wakatoshi's now clenching hole. He let out a soft moan, not loud enough to be heard over the phone, but it still had him fearing his friend may have heard him. “Uhm- s..sure…” Ushiwaka didn't know how or why, but (Y/n)'s voice made him feel hot. Maybe he'd finally be able to get his dick to go down after all! He'd do anything at this point- desperate wouldn't even be the right word for him. He was beyond desperate.

“Oh cool. Anytime is fine. Well, I guess I'll–”

“How've you been lately, (L/n)-san..?” Ushijima asked, trying to drag the conversation on.

(Y/n) was taken aback by the other man wanting to talk more. Usually they would end the call there. “I've been good I guess- can't say the same for the weather though, am I right?” The (h/c) man let out a quiet laugh. “What about you?”

Ushi answered, despite his voice not agreeing with him. “I..I've been w-well..hng~..” Unlike the first time he let out a lewd sound, (Y/n) heard it loud and clear this time.

A smirk slowly crept it's way across (Y/n)'s face. He had never heard Ushiwaka sound so..whiny. It made him kinda happy. “Are you sure? You sound a bit unwell to me.” (Y/n) feigned a concerned tone, and listened for his friend's voice.

“Hah~..mm~..”

“‘Shijima-kun?”

Upon hearing (Y/n) call his name from the other end, he snapped back into reality (from wherever the hell his mind was). “Y-yes!” That came out a little louder than he would have liked it to. He cleared his throat. “I'm perfectly fine..(L/n)-san.”

“Wakatoshi–” There was a brief silence (other than Ushijima's quiet whimpers and moans) before (Y/n) continued. “–please don't push yourself. Get some rest.”

At that moment, Ushijima felt as if he were about to cum. Was it because (Y/n) said his name? “..again...hah~..”

“What?”

Ushiwaka rolled over on his stomach, still playing with his hole as he rubbed his cock against the fabric of the bedsheets underneath him. “My name– say it again.. please~”

‘Is he being serious right now?’ (Y/n) unconsciously raised an eyebrow. “Wakatoshi..?” His voice came out a little deeper, but a bit quieter than he thought it would, but maybe that wasn't such a bad thing?

Hearing his name in a soft-spoken voice; he lost it. Ushijima let out a loud whine as he shot thick ropes of cum onto the sheets as well as his stomach and chest. It was so much more intense than the other times– his vision was hazy, and his body shook from the intensity of the orgasm. Then, it finally happened. His cock spewed a bit more cum before finally going limp.

Wakatoshi had never felt so relieved. He didn't even care about the mess he made. He was just glad he finally got rid of his (kinda) painful hard-on. Though that didn't last long as he was scared half to death by (Y/n)'s laughter. Did the orgasm fry his brain? How the hell did he forget that he was on the phone with (Y/n) that fast?

“‘Shijima-kun, you naughty, naughty boy..~♡”

“W...what?”

“Tori-kun told me about your little problem, so I decided to check on you. I didn't think you'd get off to my voice..you dirty boy~♡”

‘Shit. I got carried away. But it felt so–’ His thoughts were interrupted when he felt the growing pressure in his lower abdomen. He was getting hard again.

“Fuck.”

I hope I made the homies horny 😩 thanks for reading, darling. ♡

The class session is now over!~♡

[australet789]

Marichat May Day 19: Identity Reveal

Sometimes is not only the cat who is curious