#@keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars

[lottiies]

LIKE A LITTLE PIECE OF HEAVEN

→ Sneaking around with your grandparents’ ranch hand during the summer!

CW: x Fem!reader with she/her pronouns, starts with fluff and turns into smut, switch!Leon, dry humping, cowgirl, butterfly (i think that’s the position name?), fingering, short hold the moan snippet, reader wears a sundress at one point, mention of a palm injury via a cut

WC: 1.8k

NOTE: written just for fun to entertain myself during an excruciatingly long car ride, sorry that it’s fast paced </3 title lyric is from ‘tulsa jesus freak’ also i tried my best at a southern accent for him okay

MASTERLINK

You always complained whenever your parents sent you on your annual trip to your grandparents’ place. Mosquitoes ran rampant and a prayer whilst holding hands was mandatory before every meal. Summer was supposed to be a break so you could be lazy in bed all day, but now you had to go help tend to the animals.

Sure, farm animals are cute and all…but gushing over how adorable they are is much different from actually taking care of them. So much for that ‘Charlotte’s Web’ childhood dream of yours, none of the pigs are like Wilbur!

But you had a change of attitude when you went the summer after your freshman year of college. Upon your arrival, your suitcase was hauled by strong skin-kissed hands, like if your packed belongings weighed a mere pound.

Looking up, your eyes met irises that rivaled the beauty of the ocean.

Oh.

You almost had to physically lift your jaw back up to introduce yourself. Then you ran upstairs to bury your face into your pillow.

Leon Kennedy. Would his last name suit your first name? Or vice versa? Jesus.

That first summer was full of fleeting glances and flirtatious conversation. There was something romantic about being in a space far away from civilization. Like you were in your own little universe with him whenever the two of you snuck around. During dinners, you always nudged at his leg with your boot to mess with him, liking the way he cleared his throat to ward off a smile.

And maybe you relied on silly methods to see if your feelings for him were reciprocated.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck.

He likes me.

Pluck.

He likes me not.

Pluck. Last one.

He likes me!!!

Childish excitement coursed through you, an instantaneous smile on your face. You thanked Mother Nature for giving you the answer you wanted.

You also thanked the Sun every day for gifting freckles to Leon. One day, you held onto his face and tried to count them all. Squinting your eyes, you counted aloud, missing the way he looked at you with nothing but sweetness in his gaze.

The world around you was muted, as if the cows standing behind the fence had stopped mooing just for the sake of your concentration.

“Sure this is gonna work? Listen, I’ve always been an optimistic fella but—“

“Shh, you’re distracting me.” After a beat, you groaned. “Fuck I lost count. Okay, hold still for real this time.”

“Sure, doll.” She’s real cute, he thought to himself.

Or that one time when the Sun’s beams were too hot and made Leon take his hat off so he could pour a fresh bucket of water on his head. You felt so betrayed at the sight.

“You’re shitting me!”

“What?”

“Your roots…” Not very polite, but you pointed at his hair. “I thought you were blonde. Like, born blonde.”

“Sorry to disappoint.” He hid his amusement with a shrug, lowering his head to give you a better look. “Haven’t had time to dye it.”

And of course, you owed the Moon some gratitude for being an audience member to a memory you cherished. If said memory could be physically stored, you’d keep it on a frame so you could rewatch the moment your relationship blossomed.

The confession came when two heartbeats aligned, two bodies snuggled against each other on top of the roof. Leon gazed at you as if you hung up the stars and moon that were beautifully assorted in the sky, the same ones he had admired all alone prior to you coming here. He never thought he’d have a pretty woman wanting to get to know him.

“This is crazy…I can actually see the constellations out here.” Your words were a murmur, the glimmering dots above reflecting in your pupils.

“And ya couldn’t back at home?”

“Pfft. With all the pollution in the city? Not a chance.”

“Yeah? Mus’ be a special night for ya, then.”

It was. But not because of the view, rather, because of the handsome guy holding you close like you were his girlfriend.

“Yeah, it is.”

A hat was placed onto your head. His hat.

You broke your admiration of the stars, turning to look at him instead. The tip of his nose brushed against yours, suddenly his hand was cupping the side of your face. His skin was scarred and calloused against yours, a physical manifestation of how different his lifestyle was from yours.

Books always made it seem like butterflies would be swarming in your stomach at moments like these. But you felt calm. This was fate, it was supposed to happen. And who were you to deny the universe’s pull and Cupid’s arrow?

Leon was a gentleman first and foremost. “Can I…?”

“Mhm.”

Your first kiss was witnessed by the moon.

︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶

You kept in touch through letters. Leon was old fashioned, and very rarely did he pick up his cheap flip phone when you tried giving him a call. Something about his phone always being stored away, he hardly used the thing anyway. He already had the task of picking up the mail, so it wasn’t like your grandpa or grandma would get it.

You didn’t mind much. There was something endearing about sending letters, running to the mail like you were a dog fetching the weekly newspaper. It was hard to imagine his voice sometimes when reading his letters because he wrote all properly, it didn’t match his accent.

“I’m sorry it took so long for me to send another letter. I accidentally cut my hand when fixing up a fence and it took a while to heal, it left a scar. I’m okay though, promise. Just don’t want you to think I forgot about you or anything like that. Your grandpa was real nice about it, he gave me some time off, he’s got a kind heart. And your grandma kept cooking up some soup…said it would help me heal quicker. Not sure if it’s true, but it left my stomach happy and that counts for something.

The entire time I was resting, I found myself thinking of you. Would you have patched my hand up if you were here? Kissed my pain away?

Every time I look at the moon, I wonder if you are too.”

You always traced over his handwriting with an unclicked pen before proceeding to leave a kiss mark on the corner of the page and putting it in your stored pile.

Summer became the highlight of your years. You actually packed cute clothes now, flowy sundresses and some matching undergarments you wouldn’t mind Leon seeing. Of course, you also bought some riding gear, wanting to partake in his hobbies too.

The instant you were back at the farm and the two of you were alone, Leon grabbed you by the hips and pressed you up against the outdoor wall of the house, smiling at you all coyly.

“Missed ya. Shoulda jus’ stayed here with me.”

“Thought you liked me for pursuing a higher education?” Your grin matched his. Maybe after you got your degree you’d join him more often.

“Mhm.” God, that intellect of yours was sexy. He could listen to you ramble about your ambitions for ages. “Wish that college of yers was nearby, though.”

“That makes two of us…I missed you too, by the way.” Your lips inched closer to his. “A lot.”

His cheeks turned roseate, his heart thumping as fast as the hooves of a bronco at a rodeo. “…Yeah?”

“Don’t sound so unsure! Need me to show you?”

“I’d appreciate that, y’know how I am.” Leon wasn’t the most self assured, having been worried you’d find some college guy to get with.

All it took was some more sweet talking and daring touches on your end before he hoisted one of your legs up with your permission, the fabric of your dress lifting and bunching around your hips, the plush of your ass pressed against the weathered down paint of the walls.

He let you set the pace, keeping you steady as you bucked your hips against him, your panties soaking from the friction of his rough denim jeans. Your mouths clashed messily out of pent up desperation.

It didn’t go farther than dry humping, though.

Leon made sure your first time with him was more planned out, not wanting it to be in some confined space or rushed. You rode him until dawn, your knees meeting the soft blanket he laid down against the grass with each roll of your hips.

“Ah ah ah. Slow, sweetheart, slow.” He pleaded in a throaty voice, you were killing him, milking him over and over.

“Fuck…okay.” You slowed your pace, your breaths mingling when you rested your forehead against his.

“That’s it. Like that.”

And after that, there were more spontaneous times.

You wanted to get dicked down on your mattress so that’s what Leon gave you, if only your bed wasn’t so fucking squeaky. He had to put pillows behind your headboard.

“Shh…gotta be quiet f’me.” His hand covered your mouth, muting the moans that almost spilled from your mouth.

Leon wouldn’t live to see another day if his boss found his sweet granddaughter’s ankles hugging his neck and her toes all curled.

You ran your nails against his scalp, turning his hair into a mess, taking advantage of the fact he didn’t have a hat indoors. He bit down on his lip harshly to prevent himself from groaning aloud. Yeah, he had to climb out your window after that.

You almost got caught once inside one of the rundown abandoned stalls that was in need of some fixing. You were sitting betweens Leon’s spread legs, his hand down your pants. His palm gently smacked your clit with every push of his fingers inside your cunt. Open-mouthed kisses grazed your neck, making you loll your head to the side.

If only your granddaddy hadn’t interrupted.

“Son, ya in here?” Some incoherent grumbles before he got to the point, thankfully giving you some time to smack Leon’s hand away, snickering at the expression on his face — like he was about to be put six feet under. “Need yer help with the pipe I was tellin’ ya about earlier.”

“‘m on it.” Leon called out after pecking your lips, but there was a crack in his voice that left you silently giggling as he got up and wiped his fingers on his pants. He seemed so embarrassed, sparing you an apologetic glance and then tipping his hat down to hide his flustered expression from his boss.

But who knows, your grandparents adored Leon. One day he’d muster up the courage to tell them he was sweet on you, or maybe they’d catch the two of you holding hands under the dinner table.

Either way, you were no mere summer fling, and he let that be known by adorning your finger with a shiny promise ring.

[heathermason6060]

Daryl Dixon x f!Reader Smut: Stars in the Dark

Warnings/Mentions: Smut, unprotected p in v, emergency contraceptives, slight alcohol consumption, reader is strong (minor description)

Summary: You're a former farm hand at the Greene Farm. You swoon over the new hunter, and he notices.

Notes: This was one of the first requests I got and I'm so sorry it took me this long to put it out! I hope you're still around anon, and you enjoy.

It was an unusually cool day. 

You sat on the front porch of the Greene house, watching as the strangers that were slowly becoming friends did their daily chores. Carol sat in the center of their camp, scrubbing clothes in a bucket next to Lori, who was hanging them up to dry. Andrea sat on the top of the RV, switching between her gun scope and her binoculars to observe the tree line. There was a man beside her, the one that was with Otis when he died, was his name Shawn? Shane?

It was hard to remember their names, there were so many of them.

But you didn't have trouble remembering Daryl’s name. Especially considering how often you would whimper it into your pillow at night. 

You felt your cheeks heat up at the idea of him, your legs switching from being crossed at your ankles to your knees, the rocking chair beneath you swaying slightly. 

Your eyes drifted to the man you'd been thinking of, watching as he walked back to the camp for lunch after spending the morning hunting. You'd been seeing more of him, especially after the whole incident with the walkers in the barn, something not even you had known about. You knew they were there, sure, but you had no idea the little girl they were looking for had been in there the whole time. 

The Greene family had kept it from you for a while. You had gone to school with Maggie, Hershel's daughter, and she was able to get you a spring job working at her farm with the horses and cattle. They were even kind enough to let you have their spare bedroom downstairs near the back door. It was tiny, but it was free lodging, and you loved it. 

That spring job turned into a summer job once the infection started. Hershel had done a pretty good job convincing you of his beliefs. You had little medical experience, mostly just patching up animals at the farm, especially the barn cat PeePoe, but you liked to believe Hershel knew what he was talking about. Even if it seemed a little farfetched. So, you kept their secret and minded your own business. 

You were sort of glad Shane forced the whole thing to happen. The walkers in the barn were starting to really creep you out, especially with how much they began to rot over time. 

The movement of two people sneaking around to the back of the house caught your eye and you saw Maggie and Glenn, something you'd grown accustomed to. She had a big smile, full of excitement and nervousness, and Glenn just looked thrilled to be there. You watched as they disappeared to the back workshop and felt envy bubble in your stomach. 

The sound of that familiar gruff voice that you'd gotten really good at imagining at night startled you. You looked up and away from beside you, your mouth slightly open in surprise, not having heard him walk up on the porch. 

“Hi?” You looked up at him, awkward and embarrassed from your earlier thoughts. You weren't used to seeing him so up close. He smelled like cigarettes and something else, something artificial, and when you saw him chewing something you realized it was the very faint scent of bubblegum. 

“Patricia said you knew the shops in town. Can't find Glenn, and we need supplies for dinner tonight.” His eyes held little emotion, a bit of annoyance maybe. Annoyance at having to ask you, or annoyance at having to go into town instead of Glenn, you weren't sure. 

“Yeah, I do.” You nodded slowly, trying to keep the filthy thoughts from your head as your eyes raked over his face and upper body, catching yourself and quickly looking back up at his face. 

“Good. C'mon.” He didn't ask, he just slung his crossbow over his bloody ripped shirt, which you assumed was from the deer he had bagged that morning. 

Patricia had mentioned to you in passing about wanting to have another group dinner that night, you didn't expect it to actually happen, given how awkward the last one had been at first. With the weather slowly fading into autumn and the crops dying from age, you figured it was necessary to get some supplies from town. 

You didn't leave often. You didn't have a desire, or a need to, but the idea of being alone with Daryl had you almost skipping to his bike. 

As much as you wanted to push Daryl against the wall of the corner store and kiss him till he passed out, you didn't feel like getting humiliated from rejection. You settled for just watching him as he moved, picking up cans and turning them over before stuffing them in his burlap potato sack. 

The sight of his eyes flickering up over the aisle and landing right on yours snapped you out of your dirty daydream. You quickly looked down to your shelf, picking up a can of corn and pretending to be interested in the ingredients in it. Hmm, yes, Corn. 

He eyed you through suspicious slits, having a hard time deciding between being concerned or annoyed.

Daryl didn't know much about you at all. He knew your name, he knew you were younger than Maggie but older than Beth and that you were a newer farmhand. The only people that ever talked about you never really spoke to him.

He did know that you were way too hot to be working on a farm shoveling horse shit. You belonged in a fuckin magazine, one of those that fashion ones Amy used to read back at their first camp in Atlanta. You were fit, you had to be for your job, what you looked like before all the labor-intensive work, he didn't know or care. 

He'd never seen someone as hot as you in person. He couldn't even think of the words to describe you. You looked so out of place at that farm, it was like taking a supermodel and putting her in a gas station. He watched as you put food in your bag, trying not to get hard as his thoughts swiftly changed from admiring your beauty to imagining how you'd look when you came. 

Daryl thought about that way too much already. He thought about it so much that he was confident he was spot on with the image of you he created in his mind. Alone in his far-off tent at night, not having to worry about getting caught, rubbing his dick raw to the thought of you naked, drooling and crying from pleasure under him. 

“Okay, my bag’s full.” Your voice ripped him from his trance and he blinked a few times, realizing he'd been staring at the same can of peas for the past two minutes. 

“Yeah. Alright.” He swept his arm across his shelf, knocking several cans into his bag and two on the floor. You jumped at the sound and he cursed, his brain still not working right with all the blood that went to his dick. 

You peeked over the shelf to see two cans on the floor, one perfectly fine and the other surrounded in a gross pile of butter beans. No loss to you. Daryl snatched the can of diced tomatoes from the floor and put it in his bag, twisting it a few times before slinging it over the shoulder that didn't have the crossbow on it. 

“How the hell are we gonna get these back?” You asked as you walked out the front door, trying not to fall head over heels when he stuck back to hold the door open for you. You thought he was being chivalrous, he just wanted to stare at your ass in those Bobbie Brooks as you walked to his bike. 

“We'll figure it out.” 

And you did, sort of, but it was incredibly awkward with a bag pressed between the two of you on the bike, and the other tied to your torso so it sat behind you. Thankfully, he drove thoughtfully slowly, and you were able to get back to the farm without incident. 

You were happy to let the other women do the cooking, trying to pay attention to the rant Andrea was currently going on about how Lori loved her social norms. 

The wind had grown a bit cooler, sending goosebumps over the back of your neck as the breeze blew through your hair. 

“You ever cook?” Andrea said suddenly, a cautious edge to her voice as if she suddenly realized she had no idea how you felt about gender roles. “Or, like it, I mean?”

“Was more of an outdoor kind of girl.” You chuckled, leaning back in the plastic lawn chair around the fire you sat at. 

Daryl was chopping wood, something you'd never been so interested in before. Andreas' conversation was getting real, real boring. 

“Yeah. I liked fishing myself.” She grew silent after that, and you looked away from Daryl to see she had a far out look in her eyes.

“You okay?” You asked in a gentle voice, only earning a silent nod from her. You took that as your leave and gave her a comforting shoulder squeeze before heading inside. The sun would set in a few hours, and you wanted to change into warmer clothes before dinner. 

You didn't expect to have Daryl sit beside you at dinner. 

You didn't really expect him to come, let alone eat with the group. Last time he’d been stuck in the bed upstairs since he’d been shot by Andrea. You basically froze when you saw the seating arrangements.

 It wasn't really his choice, honestly, everyone sat down so fast, the only two seats that were open were right beside each other. Looked like no one wanted to sit next to Shane. And from the look on his face, you didn't really want to either.

Relief flooded through you when Daryl sat down next to Shane. You took your seat beside Daryl, Andrea on your right. You smiled at Patricia in front of you, only getting a small one in return. 

It wasn't as quiet or awkward as the last dinner. Spirits were a bit higher, although tense with the whole “prisoner in the barn” fiasco. You couldn't recall the name of the man that was currently chained up, but you did know Dale made a scene of fixing him a plate, much to Shane's objection. 

You tried to distract yourself from their bickering by looking at Daryl. A quick bolt of subdued adrenaline coursed through you when you saw he was already looking at you. You looked away almost immediately out of reflex, and deciding against your better judgment, you looked back. He was still looking at you. 

Daryl couldn't figure you out. If he had a bullet for how many times he caught you looking at him, he'd be able to kill every damn walker on earth. 

It never even crossed his mind you were into him before that night. It seemed so farfetched, you were too fuckin pretty to be looking at him like that. Your features were so soft, even after all the work that had toughened your muscles, your face was still so… 

Cute.

 He didn't notice the tugging that had pulled at the corner of his mouth until it was a full-fledged smirk. He was about to look away when he realized how creepy he probably looked, staring down at you smirking without speaking, but the feeling of your knee bumping against his had his eyes locked to yours. 

His smirk slowly faded, being replaced by a more serious expression, until he saw the soft smile on your lips. 

Nah, she's just friendly. He found himself trying to explain away your actions, but a large part of him desperately wanted him to be wrong. Having such a sweet girl look up at him like that was uncharted territory, and his mind slowly drifted away to the idea of your uncharted territory. He would've snorted at the pun if not for the feel of your thigh pressing against his and staying there this time. 

Neither of you had noticed, but the bickering had finally died down, and a different and lighter conversation was taking place. 

Your silent interaction wasn't as private as it felt, the burn of Rick's eyes on his face had Daryl dragging his eyes to the leader of the group, holding so much cold annoyance towards the nosey man that it could've frozen hell. 

Rick just grinned, happy to see at least some people weren't so miserable with how things were going and went back to picking at his plate with his fork, silently chuckling. 

“Do you drink?” Your soft voice broke him from his thoughts, he looked back over to you, his expression softening when he saw you. He couldn't decide if he wanted to take you out back and fuck you in the grass like an animal, or take you to your bed and kiss every inch of your body. 

“Sometimes.” He shrugged, his voice low and quiet amongst the chatter of the table. “Why?”

You shrugged in return, popping an apple slice in your mouth and crunching it before swallowing and speaking. “I found a bottle of wine today at the store. I don't really drink much anymore but wanted to find a reason to.” 

Your open-ended words had him overthinking once again, over analyzing what you meant. Was he the reason to drink? Or did you have one already? Before he could leave you in more silence your thigh moved against his again, bringing his attention back to you. 

“What're you askin’ me?” He needed to hear you clearly state your intentions, not wanting to humiliate himself by accepting a nonexistent request. 

“If you'll join me.” Your voice was quiet, almost too quiet, and it took him a few seconds to process what you'd said. 

He looked you over, his eyes narrowing as he searched your face for any sign of a trick. You smiled nervously, your eyes flickering to and fro, only settling on his eyes for a second a time. Something about you being unable to keep eye contact stirred something in him, something he was painfully unfamiliar with. He wanted to grab your chin and make you look up at him, make you speak up, make you tremble under his touch-

“You can say no.” He snapped out of it to see your smile had faded to fear of rejection. 

“No. I want to.” He answered immediately, nodding and earning another smile from you. 

You met him in the front field, holding your bundled up blanket with the wine bottle inside. You were originally going to bring glasses, but said fuck it, you could drink from the bottle. You did forget to bring a bottle opener, though, something Daryl was happy to help with. 

He took the bottle from you and sat down on the blanket beside you, pulling a switchblade from his back pocket and beginning to work it into the cork.

“Hershel said something about moving you guys inside soon.” You commented as he blew a few chunks of broken cork from his blade. 

“I'll pass.” He grunted, digging the blade back into the cork. 

You looked away, your heart dropping at his words. 

“Can't stop thinking about it.” 

“Huh?” 

“About winter.” You thought you might've just been imagining it, but you swore you saw his face drop in disappointment at your answer. 

Finally, you heard the pop of the cork finally coming out, and he took the first swig, spitting out the few pieces of cork that had fallen in after he demolished the poor thing. 

He handed it back to you and you took a deep swig, trying to get as much courage as possible. You didn't know how to act around Daryl. He was so unpredictable, nothing like the other men you'd crushed on before. They were all easy, quick to accept your subliminal hints. 

But Daryl? You could tell him you wanted to suck his dick till he couldn't breathe, and he'd probably laugh, thinking you were just joking, and go off and hunt or whatever it was he did all day. 

It was easy for your mind to wander in the silence. You handed the bottle back to Daryl as you slowly undressed him in your head, imagining him taking your clothes off, his lips all over your neck, switching between your different fantasies. Rough, violent and painful, sweet, slow and deep, or quick, needy and dirty. You wondered what he would be like, was he experienced? Would he be able to make you cum just with his fingers? Or was he the opposite? Either way you wanted him, so unreasonably bad, you'd never felt this way about a man before. If someone told you a witch put a lust spell on you strictly for him, you'd believe it in a heartbeat. You didn't even know his favorite color. Or what type of music he listened to. 

“Shit, get down.” His hand on your chest pushing you to your back had your heart in your throat. You tilted your head back to see Maggie and Glenn, sneaking away once again. Daryl relaxed at the realization that it was just them and drew his hand away from you. 

“Lucky them.” You grumbled, taking the bottle from him and taking a sip. You were happily buzzed at this point, eager to make conversation but not at the point where you'd make a fool of yourself. 

“Hmm. Yeah.” He agreed, watching as they slipped behind the stables. “Lucky.”

With your newfound courage, you decided to test the waters in a way that you felt seemed completely unsuspecting and not suspicious at all. 

“Must be nice to have someone like that to take your mind off things for a while.” You commented casually, your gaze now back at the stars. 

“Wouldn't know.” His gruff reply gave you motivation to push on. 

“Yeah, me neither.” You couldn't think of the words that wouldn't possibly spook him off. Little did you know, Daryl wasn't some cornered frightful animal, he was thinking of the same things and worse than you. He'd been looking at you, his chest rising and falling in short quick breaths, his eyes all over your body beside him. 

“Those stars look better laying down.” He felt like an obviously desperate teenager after saying that, but when you immediately laid down on the blanket he smirked a bit. Maybe it wasn't such a stupid suggestion. 

He took a deep sip of wine and looked over you, noticing you'd changed back into your jean shorts after dinner. It was odd, he thought, considering the chill in the air, but he wasn't complaining. The way he looked at your bare legs was akin to someone on a diet looking at a plate of fresh, hot salty fries. His mouth watered, not from the idea of fries, but from the idea of sinking his teeth into the soft flesh of your thighs so hard you'd be littered with bruises. 

Daryl wanted to touch you so goddamn bad. But being him, he was too disgusted by the idea of getting the nerve to reach out and touch your thigh and having you pull away, shout at him, storm off and never talk to him again. 

And you being you, you were too terrified at the idea of making the first move and getting a similar reaction. 

So you stared up at the stars, forcing yourself to concentrate, before that last bit of wine spread through your body and gave you enough confidence to look at him. 

A buzzed smile spread on your lips when you saw he was already looking at you. And not your face either, but your thighs, and to gauge his reaction you trailed your hand down your torso to casually rest at the bottom of your shorts. You toyed with it, a bit, pretending you had an itch under the fabric and slipping your fingers under the hem. 

He looked at your face then. 

“You look real good.” He blurted, and froze at his words, ready to get up and bolt if you reacted the wrong way. 

“You look really pretty.” You responded without thinking, earning a look of confusion from him. “I mean, in a good way, like you could model in one of those underground fashion shows-” You cut yourself off before you could humiliate yourself further, but the grin on his face put you at ease. And made you a little tiny bit bolder. 

Neither of you knew what to say. He suddenly grabbed the wine and took an exceptionally impressive sip, leaving the bottle half empty. 

It was a few moments before either of you spoke again. 

“What did you do before this?” You asked, trying to ease the tension enough to relax the both of you. 

He snorted at that question, shaking his head and looking away from you. “Same as everyone else. Lived. Paid for food.”

You took that as the best answer you'd get from him and decided to use the boldness you'd earned from the alcohol. 

“Did you have a girlfriend?” 

He must've found your question amusing, because he snorted. “Psh. No. You got a boyfriend?” 

You noticed his question was in the present tense, not past like yours. “No.” 

He grunted and shifted in his spot so his forearms rested on his knees. He toyed with the grass for a bit, snapping off blades and picking them apart into little green confetti pieces. 

Daryl gave up on talking. He looked down at you again, seeing you were looking at the stars again, but not really seeing them. With the wine induced confidence he wasn't sure if he was thankful for yet, he reached out for you, his fingertips ghosting your knee. His eyes flickered to your face, and when he saw the expression it held there, he decided he was very grateful for the wine.

You sucked in a sharp breath, your lips parted and your eyebrows a bit furrowed. It was funny, with that look you'd think he had slipped his hands in your shorts. And when his hand fully pressed down on your thigh you closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, your body giving a billion silent ‘finally, finally, yes, yes, yes’. 

“Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while.” His gravelly voice sent chills through your entire body. 

“I can't stop thinking about it.” You admitted. 

“Yeah?” Your confession had him spinning, his hand now in the pocket of your shorts, two of his fingers dipping in to pull the two of you closer together. 

You found it hard to speak, so you settled on a whiny and desperate ‘Uh-huh’. 

He smirked down at you, his fingers back at your inner thigh. His touch was lazy, but deliberate, his rough fingers slipping up your thigh to the top of your shorts again. He ached to tease you, watch you whimper and squirm under you, but it was getting progressively harder. He glanced over his shoulder at the house, seeing all the windows dark besides Beth's bedroom. He then looked over the moonlit field, concerned for a moment about walkers, but when he saw the fence he felt all concern melt away. 

Daryl's hand continued roaming over your body, relishing in each little whimper being pulled from your throat. The thought that he was doing this to you, it was him making you into this needy little mess, it gave him a new sense of pride he hadn't felt in a long time. 

“You look real damn good.” He repeated his earlier compliment. The way you looked laying down beside him, your long sleeve shirt pushed up around your stomach, your chest rising and falling sharply, had his heart racing despite the buzz he had going on. 

“Thank you.” Your voice was barely a whisper, sending a shiver through him at the sound of it. Your body arched into his touch, desperate to have his hand move from your stomach either up or down. 

“You feel real damn good too.” He muttered, loving the way your body was responding to his touch. 

“God. So do you.” You breathed out a long exhale, looking up at him like he was the prettiest thing above you, not the stars. 

“Yeah?” His voice had taken on a higher pitch, a bit teasing, making you involuntarily whimper at the sound of it. He suddenly took it up ten notches, sliding his hand up your shirt to your breast. You had to bite back the moan that you knew would either call walkers or humans if you made it. While he played with your nipple, rougher than you expected, his other hand popped open the button on your shorts. 

You didn't have time to be impressed before his hand shoved its way through your tight shorts to your panties, catching you completely off guard with how suddenly forward it was. A strangled groan and the sight of your eyes squeezing shut had him teasing you again. “S’been a while, huh?” 

You nodded frantically, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Your legs trembled, moving apart so he could move his hand easier. He eagerly took advantage of the new space and moved his fingers through the sides of your panties, beelining for your clit. You weren't sure if it was experience, or if he just wasn't stupid, but the way he rubbed your embarrassingly slick clit had your head reeling. 

“You want me to take care of this little ache you got goin’ on?” The fact his southern drawl had gotten much stronger was almost enough to make you cum. Coupled with the dirty words he was saying, which was something you didn't expect from Daryl at all, your face burned with embarrassment. 

“Please.” You choked out, your hands gripping onto the blanket under you, having no idea what to do with your hands. 

He put more weight on his hands as he shuffled so close that he was basically on top of you. His middle finger slid into you, and the feigned cockiness quickly left his body when he felt you. He didn't know if he'd last more than ten seconds inside you. You were unbearably hot and wet. And just by the way you squeezed his finger, he couldn't imagine how that would feel on something bigger like his dick. 

Your worries were right, your orgasm came so fast you were humiliated. He'd barely curled his fingers inside you a few times, something you had to teach him through your haze, and you groaned, low and guttural.

His eyes widened when he realized what was happening, your orgasm catching him off guard. He took his hand that was busy pinching your incredibly sore nipples and clamped it firmly over your mouth, muffling your cries, even though they were enough to give him enough material to jerk his dick to for months. 

He'd need to find somewhere he could let you scream in peace. But for now, he'd have you right here, keep his hand over your mouth and fuck you into the grass. 

Daryl watched you come undone under his fingers like it would be the last time he'd ever see it. Memorizing the way your hips rolled up into his hand, the way they pulled away when you arched your back. The way your eyebrows pulled tightly together, then the way they relaxed as you rode out your high, your eyes fluttering like they couldn't decide on opening or staying closed. 

“Jesus Christ woman.” He breathed, his eyes dark and wild, like he'd just watched a miracle being performed in front of him. To Daryl it was. He felt an unbridled sense of satisfaction knowing he was the one who did that to you. 

You relaxed fully, your hips pulling away from his rough fingers and thumb, which were still stroking your clit. 

“Ain't done with you yet.” He pulled his hand from your shorts, leaving a trail of shimmering wetness on your stomach. 

“God. You're so pretty.” You said breathlessly, looking up at him again with that damn look on your face as you struggled to sit up to take your clothes off.

“You think I'm pretty? Yeah? C'mon then, show me.” He grabbed your hands, bringing them to his chest, forcing you to touch him. Your mind spun, still recovering from the first orgasm you'd had in god knows how long, trying to take over control as he used your hands to unbutton his plaid button up, not caring if you saw him shirtless because of how dark it was. The red one with the sleeves torn off,  it was your favorite. It was almost a loss to see him remove it, that was until he brought your hands back to touch his chest again. 

You decided you liked his direction, and let him move your hands down his chest to his jeans. Your hands fumbled with his belt buckle, messing up one too many times. He unbuckled it for you, deciding he was too impatient to wait on you, undoing his jeans and tugging them down just enough to get his cock out. 

When he finally tugged it out you tried your best to memorize every single detail about it. The glint of the moon on the bead of precum at the slit, the way the tip was darker than the pale base, the way his unruly pubes looked exactly like you'd imagined. 

Your hands reached out to grab the length of his cock and he sucked in a sharp breath, his head tipping back as he muttered out a string of curses you couldn't understand through his thick accent. 

He was so fucking glad he jerked off in his tent before he came out to meet you. Or else just that touch alone would've had him busting in your hands. 

The sound of him spitting into his hand made your core do that flip and you let out a shaky breath, watching as he rubbed his palm over the tip of his cock. 

He said nothing as he manhandled you, pushing your shorts right down your thighs, ignoring your little sound of surprise. He pulled you into his lap, and the way he took full control of your body like you were a puppet had you growing wetter than you thought possible. He moved you like you weighed nothing, one hand holding your side in a firm grip to keep you hovering over his dick. He was going to spit again, but you sank down against him and he felt how wet you were, he sputtered out a groan and swallowed his spit. 

He reached down between you and grabbed his dick, trying to guide it to the right spot in the confusion of his lust clouded brain and how wet and hot everything felt. You grabbed his hand and aimed it right at your soaking entrance, and sank your hips down. 

His head barely nudged against your entrance before it slid away, up through your lips and bumping your sensitive clit roughly. You hissed at the feeling and he grunted in irritation. 

“Here-” You pulled back from him, which he objected to for a split second, the idea of you separating from him not an option he wanted to consider. But when you started laying down on your back he moved forward on top of you, grabbing your thigh to hike it up over his waist. 

The new angle made things much easier, although your tightness still proved to be a slight inconvenience. You cursed yourself for being so sexually inactive, squeezing your eyes shut as you felt the burn of his tip slowly pushing inside you. 

His mouth found your neck as he lowered his body flat on yours, his weight nearly crushing your chest under his. He kissed your neck as he felt the resistance finally give, his head popping inside you and the rest of his dick pushing forward easier. 

You still saw stars when you closed your eyes, your body freezing from the mind numbing pleasure at the feeling of him filling you in a way you'd either never experienced, or had long forgotten. When the burn of the intrusion finally gave away and melted into complete bliss you relaxed under him, your hips angling up to drive him deeper. 

Daryl groaned in your neck, the sound stuttered as he fought to gain his bearings. His hand tugging his dick to the thought of you was something he never thought he'd top. The feeling of you wrapped around it was something he knew he'd never top. 

The tension between you broke and he finally began moving, dragging his dick out painfully slowly before plunging it back in, fitting like the last piece of a puzzle he'd been working on his whole life. 

He let out a low groan, sinking his teeth into the meat of your neck and bringing a high pitched cry from your mouth. 

“Nuh-uh.” He panted, his hips picking up a faster pace as he pulled away from your neck. “You gotta be quiet, sweetheart.” 

“Mhmm!” You clenched your jaw, your eyes fluttering open to look at him above you. His eyes dark, his mouth open as he breathed heavily, beads of sweat forming at his hairline. The sight had you arching your back, making him groan at the feeling of you squeezing and pulling on his dick. He really did look so fucking pretty. 

Daryl looked down at you, eyes tracing over your face twisted in pleasure, and he felt you grow wetter around him. The way your body responded to him had him trembling. He couldn't get enough of you. He needed more. He grabbed your hips, his grip firm enough to keep you in place as he sped up. 

The quickening of his rough thrusts had your head lolling to the side, each thrust knocking a breathless moan from your lips. They were quiet, to be heard by him alone, which was more than enough for him. The muscles in his jaw flexed as he fought to keep his composure, the last bit of him that he had under control worried about possibly hurting you. 

But that concern quickly went out the window when you started begging. 

“Please.” Your words bubbled from your chest, hot and desperate. “Please!”

“Please what?” He hissed, his brows furrowed in confusion as he fucked deep into you. “Use your words, tell me whatcha want. I'll give it to you.” 

“More, please, I don't know.” You babbled under him, trying your best to stay quiet. “Harder, more, I don't-” 

He moved on you, suddenly putting all the weight of his upper body into his grip on your hips, right before he started fucking you so hard you lost the ability to speak. 

Each thrust sent a bolt of sharp and deep pleasure through your pussy, up your body and ending with a tingle on your scalp. You couldn't moan, even if you wanted to, his movements were so rough it felt like each snap of his hips knocked the air from your lungs. You knew there'd be a deep imprint of your ass in the dirt tomorrow from how much weight he was boring down on you, and the sensation of that alone made your head spin. 

Your sharp gasps that were in sync with his thrusts neared a dangerous volume, and he slowed his hips, using the opportunity to catch his breath. 

“Ya gotta be quiet. M’serious.” He whispered, his thumbs pressing down on the sides of your stomach when your whimpers had yet to cease. “Gonna have to stop.”

You spewed out a soft stream of no’s, your hands wrapping around his wrists as if you had the strength to keep him there. “I will, sorry.”

He nodded in response and carried back on with quicker thrusts, his mouth open as he sucked in shaky breaths. Daryl couldn't take his eyes off you. He wished he had met you a year ago, before all this happened, so he could fuck you without worrying about walkers, getting caught, he wanted desperately to hear every sound he earned from you. He was the reason you were a broken mess; he deserved to hear and have all of you. 

Your right hand let go of his wrist to snake under his stomach, your flat fingers rubbing firm massages on your greedy clit. The sight had a choked moan sounding from his throat and you whined in response, the sound sending long bolts of pleasure through your core. 

“Daryl, so close.” You whispered, your toes curling from their spot at the base of his spine. 

He understood your meaning and set a steadier pace, not too rough or fast, but deep and steady enough to guarantee your final orgasm, since his first with you was approaching. 

Daryl wasn't stupid, he meant to pull out, truly, but when you came and squeezed his cock like a fist, he couldn't help it. His body trembled and he choked, gasping and whimpering as he came with you. 

Your jaw dropped and you saw more than stars, you saw the whole damn galaxy. Daryl quickly pressed his hand over your mouth to muffle your obscene moans, his hips stuttering as he finished the last drop in his orgasm. 

“My God. My God. Oh my God.” You panted after he removed his hand, your eyes bleary and wet, your body vibrating with exhausted shakes as your ecstasy slowly faded away. Your hands and feet felt cold and numb, and when he pulled away it felt like someone had taken something from you. You whimpered in a soft objection as his wrist left your grip. 

“Goddamn.” He sat back to stuff his raw dick back in his jeans, twitching when he felt the uncomfortable friction from his boxers, it was too stimulating. 

It took you some time to put your clothes back on, when you were finally dressed you were too exhausted to do anything but lay there on the blanket and catch your breath. 

Neither of you spoke for a while, sitting in silence to regain your bearings and enjoy the final moments of buzz from sex. As soon as he came down from his high, he grabbed the abandoned bottle of wine and drank nearly the rest of it. 

“I'm gonna go shower.” You breathed, sitting upright to find your shoes and put them back on. 

“G’night.” He muttered between swigs.

“Goodnight Daryl. That was amazing.” You thanked him with a quick kiss that seemed to startle him.

He sucked his teeth in embarrassment, waving you off as if to say, ‘it's nothing'. He watched you walk away, scratching the backs of your arms, itching from the grass. Daryl turned back to the woods and finished the bottle before chucking it into the field, eventually leaving for his tent, bringing your blanket with him. 

You took the best bath you could manage with your supplies; it wasn't as satisfying as a hot shower with your old fancy soaps and shampoos, but you were too exhausted to do more than just clean yourself. You barely even wrapped your hair with a towel before tripping into your room and falling on your bed. 

You yelped when you felt something hard like at your back and you leaned up on your elbow to see a small box with a note. 

From Lori. Use these next time. -Maggie

You sighed in relief when you saw it was emergency contraceptives and a pack of condoms, despite the pit in your stomach from knowing Maggie had seen you. It was something you should have already planned for yourself, the condoms, but it was hard to think straight when you were horny over Daryl Dixon. 

SHANE JUMPSCAPRE

@ophelialaufey @carlgrimesgfofficial @theskinniestjackson-denny @dilfish-daydreams

[nanaslutt]

chosoyuki deniers make yourself scarce (SMUUUT under the cut)

thinking about choso and yuki kissing for the first time and choso is so caught off gaurd just trying to keep up. things start getting a little hot n heavy and yuki pushes choso down against the couch, straddling his hips. choso’s would grip her hips soooo hard with nervousness while he just tries to make it look like he knows what he’s doing

but now that she’s sitting directly on top of his hard on and he can’t think of anything else as his face burns and he prays to every god that exists that yuki doesn’t feel his boner and call him a pervert, he would die if she stopped kissing him right now, he’d never felt anything like this in his life, and it felt so fucking good

but the gods are not on choso’s side because yuki slides her hands over choso’s shoulders, her fingers sliding under the hem of his shirt as she grinds her hips down on his cock, and with just the first roll of her hips, choso was a goner

choso’s grip on her hips turns bruising as he pulls away from the kiss, dropping his head in the crook of yuki’s neck as he ruins the inside of his boxers, choked grunts and moans getting cut off in his throat as his body jerks and tenses under her with his release

the realization of what he just did hits him like a train, feeling like a bucket of ice water just got injected into his veins. but yuki is faster than his negative thoughts as she grabs his face between her hands and presses a soft kiss to his lips, a huuuuge smile on her face as she pulls away

chosos face is flushed and he still wants to crawl into a hole and die, but she’s looking at him like he hung the stars in the sky so maybe he didn’t fuck up. “did that feel good, big guy?” she teases, tipping her head to the side as she caresses his cheek. “I’m… sorry.” choso said under his breath, averting his eyes as his face grew redder

yuki pulled his face back to hers, pressing her forhead to his and trapping his eyes with hers, “i liked it… can you go again?” it takes choso a couple seconds to process her words but when he does it feels like a bomb went off in his entire body

they proceeded to fuck like bunnies until choso had no more nut in his balls and yuki was full and happy, big spooning her boyfriend post fuck like the stallion she is

[nathaslosthershit]

The Café Boy (LN4)

Summary: The move to Monaco for your new job wasn't going to be easy, even if you had your best friend by your side, but maybe the cute boy you met in a café can turn your luck around.

Moving to Monaco was certainly not on your bucket list. But getting hired as a Director of Brand Communications with an impressive salary, called for the move. Luckily, being best friends with an influencer with far too much money than she was able to spend meant that Annie was happy to move to another country to rent together. You were forever grateful for her, even though it wasn’t like you were forcibly dragging her to the tundra, instead you were offering to rent together in one of the most lustrous countries in the world, but you still felt like you had dragged her there. 

The move had been different for both of you. Annie, being the extrovert with a large following, made friends as easy as breathing, while you just focused your energy on your new job. You didn’t really feel the need to branch out when you had Annie. 

“This is ridiculous! You can’t keep spending your days working or moving furniture around for the 1,000th time.” Annie huffs when she enters the apartment and sees you on your computer working, just as you were when she left you 5 hours ago.

“It's hard trying to acclimate into this new job, plus I came at a busy time because they are trying to sponsor another company. I have been emailing back and forth with them to get a good idea if this is the right fit but the CEO has been so flaky that it's been hard to get through. Plus we have rearranged meeting dates like 6 times. It's ridiculous.” You rambled as you rubbed your eyes, realizing in that moment just how tired you are. 

“Nope, we aren’t doing this. I get that this is mostly remote so your hours work differently and you are trying to find your footing but I am not allowing you to work yourself to death. You are coming out with me and we are going to be social.”

“Annie, please-”

“No! I love you so much and think you are the most wonderful person in the world and that anyone would be lucky to be around so I won’t allow you to self sabotage because you don’t think the same about yourself. Come on, pack it up.” Annie commands.

Giving in, she forced you to shower and get dressed, two things you were certainly in need of doing. Not telling you where you two were going, she dragged you out of the house. Not that you would know anyway, in the time you had been here you hadn’t gone out much. 

Turns out, while she was forcing you out of the comfort of your own home, Annie knew and loved you enough to drag you to a sweet little café where the two of you could drink and chat instead of torturing you with activities that were more her speed. Seeing as the café was pretty full, you both had no choice but to snag the four person table that hadn’t even been cleared yet in order to get seating. Having two extra seats you didn’t need made you nervous, knowing that anyone could sit down next to you both at any time, but Annie paid no mind. You both had been there for 45 minutes, giggling and catching up, mostly talking about all the exciting things Annie has been doing while you have been working. But it didn’t make you feel bad to know she was meeting all these new people and going out to have fun because you knew the minute you asked her to hang out with you, or even invite you out, she would be happy to oblige. It wasn’t until you both were interrupted by a man clearing his throat that you stopped talking.

“Mind if we sit down? We won’t be here long, just wanted to grab a cup of coffee.” A man with curly brown hair said, gesturing to him and his friend. 

God, was he attractive, like stupidly attractive.

Which made it all the worse when you just starred, mouthing words but incapable of making sound come out.

Seeing you having a hard time, Annie came to your rescue, but not without shooting you a look that said ‘we are going to talk about this later’. 

“Of course! We are almost done anyway.”

“No need to rush out, we’d be happy to share in the meantime.” he replied to Annie, but he wasn’t looking at her, instead looking you up and down. Was he sizing you up or admiring?

The pair of boys made polite conversation with Annie, who was always happy and more than able to make friends with anyone. The man who sat down next to you tried to start conversations with you, god he really tried, but you were too nervous to say more than a few words, no matter how many times Annie kicked you under the table. 

After they grabbed their to-go cups, Annie, who had noticed the blush that had decorated your face since the moment they came up to you, invited them to sit with you guys for a while.

This time you kicked her under the table.

You loved her, you really did, but she loved to meddle. Even though it was never with malicious intent, she had explained that it just ‘pained her to see someone as wonderful and amazing as you remain a wallflower’. How could you get mad at her for that?

Right now, you were mad at her for that. 

“Well, you know my best friend over here is the whole reason we moved.” Annie said, in the middle of a conversation you hadn’t been listening to. “Got a fancy new job as a brand director or something… I always forget what it's called.” She says as she hits your arm. She knew what your job was, she loved to brag about how amazingly professional you were to her amazingly unprofessional influencer friends. She was trying to get you involved in the conversation. “Uh- director of brand communications.” You quickly said. All three people waited for you to say more, but you didn’t bite. 

“Ah, well maybe you should come work for my team, we could use uh… brand communicating.” The boy next to you said, his friend kicking him under the table. Even you could tell it was a poor excuse for flirting. 

“And what team do you work fo-” Annie began to ask, interrupted by a customer bumping into your table, knocking over the coffee the cute guy next to you had in front of him. 

It spilt all over his lap. 

You felt bad as you quickly moved away with a gasp, but it was really hot. You could tell it was worse than the few droplets you felt when the curly haired brunette let out a pained groan. 

“Fuck, mate. Let's get you to the bathroom,” His friend said as the two quickly excused themselves. 

Even though you hadn’t spoken much, you were bummed they had to leave, even more so when Annie said you two should head out, having stayed there way longer than planned. 

Not knowing what had come over you, you grabbed a pen from your bag and quickly scribbled your name onto the now empty cup. He probably wouldn’t see it before he threw it out, or maybe he would see and not want to call. But hey, you had come there to try new things, so you might as well try those new things.

Annie waited by the entrance with a knowing smile, excitedly babbling how she was so proud of you for doing such a thing. 

You remained pessimistic over your chances, but you wouldn’t dampen your friend’s mood. 

He didn’t call or text. 

Even your pessimism wasn’t enough to save you from embarrassment, or hurt. Maybe he wasn’t flirting? Maybe he was just being nice? Or maybe he was an asshole who got off on playing with girls’ feelings. Maybe he kept the cup as a trophy so he and his friends could laugh at it and talk about how much of an idiot you were-

“Hey, I can practically hear all the negative thoughts running through that mind of yours.” Annie said, poking your forehead. “Come on, this is a fun and exciting day and we aren’t going to let one idiot man ruin it.”

“Annie, this is for work. I am working. You are here as my plus one, so by proxy you are also working.” You said, trying to stop her skipping down the paddock. 

It technically was work but also wasn’t. Your company had been in the talks with Mclaren for a while now and the deal was practically complete. All that was needed today was for you to ‘supervise race day environment’ to make sure it was ‘up to company standards’, which was just a load of shit they used to give themselves more time to look at data. By data, you mean that if Mclaren does well today and looks promising to have a good season thus making your company a ton of money, then the deal is on. If not, it would be a cool experience to see how the teams work behind the scenes. 

Too bad the sting of rejection was ruining it for you. 

Being in the garage though, the excitement as the engineers, strategists, mechanics, all got ready for the main event of the weekend, got your mind off the boy in the café for a while, till he walked right past you.

Not really past you, more like into you. 

Neither of you recognized the other at first, too busy balancing yourselves and apologizing to the other. Once your eyes met the same ones that had you in a bad mood for the past week, you turned around and walked as far from him as possible, ignoring the weird stares as he yelled for you to come back. 

At least Annie was amused by it. She practically doubled over with laughter.

“This is such a rom-com moment! Gosh, I am honestly kind of jealous.”

“I am not! It's motifying, Ann.” You say, hitting her on the arm as she continues to giggle. “Would it be wrong if I told my team that the ‘vibes in the garage were bad and there was no way they were going to have a good season’ regardless of results today?”

“Uh yeah, that's psychotic and way too over the top.”

“...fine, I'll just pray that they have the worst race results possible.” 

They didn’t have the worst race results possible. Not even close.

The Australian driver, Oscar Piastri, had come in third. You thought that had been a good place, but were surprised when the team was slightly disappointed, thinking they'd do better. Maybe they really were in for a good year if they were aiming as high as possible. 

Café asshole, also known as Lando Norris, came in second. 

You were trying to get out as soon as you could, thinking luck would be on your side and he'd be too busy to run into you again, or reject you again.

You were wrong.

The moment Annie saw him, standing by himself as he drank from his water bottle, cleaning the champagne from his face, she grabbed you and marched right up to him. You didn’t speak as she congratulated him, trying to ignore the feeling of his eyes staring into you. 

“Fuck, its my sister. I have to take this, one second!” Annie said as she ran off.

You and Lando stood in silence watching her fake the phone call.

“Her phone didn’t ring,” He said.

“She doesn’t even have a sister,” you answered. This caused the two of you to laugh, luckily helping to ease the tension. 

“I um- I am actually glad you are here. I mean, what are the chances?” Lando said. 

He looked genuinely happy, like he hadn’t just rejected you.

As you remained silent, he began to get more nervous. 

“I just- I was upset to see the two of you gone after Max and I left the bathroom. I had been telling Max how I was going to get your number before the coffee spilt on me, but he said you didn’t seem interested. That became more clear when we saw you had left.”

Confused and a little scared of where he was going with this, you continued your silence. Was this some cruel joke?

“But you are here, and I was thinking that you know, this is my second chance. I know I rejected your best friend, and that is why you didn’t want to talk to me, but I started to really like you that day, and was hoping that I could get your number?” 

“What the fuck?” you said, not the best of responses, and certainly not a response Lando had ever gotten to asking a girl for her number. “What do you- what do you mean you rejected Annie?” 

“She… left her number on my cup. I am flattered, she seems like a great girl, but she isn’t really my type…” Realizing the entire miscommunication here, you shoved him, harder than you had intended. You would have felt bad if the ridiculousness of the situation hadn’t made you downright delirious, laughing hard as Lando stared at you in shock.

You tried to calm down, he must have thought you insane, but he started to laugh too even if he didn’t know what you were laughing at, your smile infectious to the Mclaren driver. 

“Lando, it was my number.” You said.

Now it was his turn to stare in confusion.

“What?” was all he replied.

“It was my number.” How much clearer could you get? 

“But- Max had said that you- but you didn't even- what?” He repeated. Then he rubbed his eyes in frustration, letting out a groan. “Max got in my fucking head about it and convinced me that you had no interest and I believed him against my better judgment. Fuck, I’m sorry. I wish I had just listened to myself instead of that idiot.” Even though he was mad, he too began to laugh at how ridiculous this whole thing was.

“Is it too late to get your number now?” He asked with more confidence than the first time.

“Fine, but you promise not to throw it out this time?” You teased.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, I’m not letting you go this time.” 

And you knew he meant it.  

[wlntrsldler]

poisoned mercury | check yes, juliet

a/n: poisoned mercury is officially over halfway finished! i'll be posting poisoned mercury playlists soon! pls continue to send me songs that remind you of this series. i'm running out of songs to use as titles. thank u for all the love on this fic &lt;3

series masterlist | previous | next

vi. check yes, juliet by we the kings

“where are we going?” 

“are you going to ask that every two seconds?” 

“you kidnapped me, castellan.” 

luke stopped in his tracks, raising an eyebrow at you. you were about a quarter mile away from camp now, and it seemed like every ten steps, you asked him the same question. if he didn’t find you so cute, he would turn around and walk straight back to camp. 

“i will throw you over my shoulder and carry you the rest of the way there, five star,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes teasingly. he wasn’t opposed to the idea, but by the look on your face, you certainly were. “don’t test me.” 

“and i will scream bloody murder if you do,” you narrowed your eyes at him in a challenging manner. 

“here i am, trying to do something nice for you and you accuse me of kidnapping you,” luke continued his steps, slowing down to let you catch up to him. he didn’t realize how much shorter you were than him. the top of your head just went past his shoulders, but your personality made up for the difference. “we’re almost there, keep up.” 

“not everyone has long legs, castellan,” you huffed, increasing your pace. “slow down.” 

“do you want to get there or not?” he asked, throwing you a teasing smile over his shoulder. you guys really needed to get there soon. the sun was beginning to set and he didn’t want you to have to walk in the dark, even if he was with you. your safety came first, above everything, and he wasn’t gonna put you in a potentially dangerous situation. 

you whined, tugging on the side of his t-shirt, “how much longer?” 

“that’s it,” luke declared, squatting down to throw you over his shoulder. you squealed, hitting his back with your balled up fists. he knew you didn’t do it to hurt him. he can feel you pulling your punches. 

you felt the vibrations from his laughter on his back. luke was enjoying this too much. he carried you over his shoulder like it was nothing. perhaps all those morning workouts were paying off. you twisted your neck to scold him, thankful that he couldn’t see the smile on your lips, “put me down, i swear to god.” 

“nope,” he replied, popping the ‘p.’ he tapped your calf with his fingers, “it’s just around the corner.” 

luke put you down in front of a building. there were five store fronts, three of which had faulty neon lights. you could barely make out the store names. the other two stores had signs up declaring vacancy. it was a little sketchy, but luke seemed to love it. he had his hands on his hips, staring up at the sign that seemed to say “achilles arcade.” 

“what is this place?” luke held the door open for you as you wandered inside the store. the place was dimly lit with old-school arcade games lining the walls. an old man was sitting on a stool behind the counter, reading the morning paper. 

“just wait,” luke grinned, pulling on your hand to lead you to get some tokens, “chiron! my man.” 

the man placed the newspaper on the surface, eyes lighting up at the sound of luke’s voice. he beamed, “luke castellan! i was afraid you weren’t gonna come back.” 

“you know i keep my promises,” luke let go of your hand, introducing you to chiron, “chiron, this is yn. she goes to camp with me.” 

“pleasure to meet you,” he tipped his head, reaching under the counter to dig out a bucket full of golden tokens. 

you took out your wallet, “how much do we owe you?” 

“on the house,” he waved off, “he donated a ridiculous sum of money to keep this place up and running. too generous, this one, so it wouldn’t be right for me to charge you when he’s keeping me in business.” 

luke shook his head, sliding a hundred across the counter anyway. he took your wallet and stuffed it in his back pocket, knowing that you’ll probably try to slip him some cash if he didn’t. you grumbled, but decided not to pick a fight. it didn’t seem like one you’d win. 

luke grabbed the bucket by the handle and turned to you, “where do you want to start, five star?” 

“you took me to an arcade?” 

“yeah,” luke said, sheepishly, “whenever i run out of cigs, i always go to an arcade to keep my mind off things. it’s childish, but it works. figured you could try it. plus, there’s a smoke shop across the street so we can go there when we’re done here.” 

“only one thing is better than the feeling of a new cherry ice vape,” you got close to him, nearly toe to toe. luke could smell the perfume on your skin, the scent of your shampoo, and his cologne that lingered on the hoodie of his that you wore. he reminded you that you always got cold and that you should bring a sweater, but you assured him that you wouldn’t. halfway to the arcade, you were shivering and luke knew that he made the right decision bringing his hoodie with him. 

you rolled your eyes, but accepted it. his hoodie stopped mid-thigh and engulfed you, but it looked better on you than it ever did on him. something about you wearing a hoodie that had his band name on it made his heart skip a beat. he had to listen to you make fun of him for tripping over air after he saw you in his clothes, but he didn’t expect anything less from you. 

he licked his lips, eyes darting to your own, “and what is that, five star?”

“beating your ass at galaga.” 

luke’s laughter echoed throughout the empty arcade as you ran from him with the tokens in your hand. you looked back at him with a mischievous smile on your face and he felt his heartstrings tug in his chest. you stuck your tongue out at him, starting the game as he stayed in his spot, admiring you. 

there weren’t many moments where he could be out in public like this, so when his mom reluctantly agreed to stop at this building on the way to camp due to a flat tire, luke and the boys were ecstatic to find that there was an empty arcade hidden in montauk. luke talked to chiron and learned his story while the boys played random games to kill the time. luke found out that the arcade wasn’t doing well financially with the increase in rent prices and that they would have to close down at the end of the summer if things don’t pick up again. chiron mentioned that he and his partner started this business twenty years ago, and he was sad to see it go. 

luke excused himself and snuck back into the tour bus to grab his checkbook. he wrote a check that covered rent and other expenses for the year and gave it to chiron. of course the man refused it, but luke wasn’t taking no for an answer, not after chiron shared that the arcade was the last living piece of his partner. luke castellan was a hopeless romantic, which not many people knew. he knew he was done for the minute he heard their love story. 

he stood there for a few moments, watching as you cheered, dodging the blasts of your enemies. you were so animated while you played, so expressive with your eyes and your voice. he’d only seen you like this a handful of times, talking to clarisse about god knows what, talking to the younger campers and asking them questions about their projects and interests, and when you asked him about his music. all of your monotoned replies and deadpan looks were all he got for the longest time, it seemed like your nonchalance was only for him, so it was nice to see you like this. it felt like you were warming up to him. 

he thought about the talk the two of you had in your room, how different you’d been then. after being iced out for weeks, luke was a little shocked at how soft you were with him earlier, playing with his rings, holding his hand, talking to him. it was a welcomed surprise, of course, but he expected you to kick him to the curb. he still didn’t understand what actually happened after the concert, but he figured you already had a tough day, so that conversation can wait. 

he made his way to you, leaning across the screen to slightly block your view, “you might be better than me at this game, but your ass is mine at guitar hero.” 

“not fair,” you were focused on the game, eyes glued on the screen in front of you. “you’re in a band. of course you’re gonna be better than me at that.” 

“life’s not fair, five star,” luke poked your side, making you squirm. you died in the game because of it. “my turn, yeah?” 

you shoved his chest, reluctantly moving over. “you cheated.” 

he looked over his shoulder, smirking, “how did i cheat?” 

“you distracted me!” 

“i did not!” he argued, chuckles escaping his lips. his tongue darted out the corner of his mouth. his concentration face was annoyingly attractive. 

“did too,” you mumbled, watching over his shoulder to see how he was doing. he was doing really well. damn teenage boys and their affinity for video games. your chin rested comfortably on his shoulder blade as you watched him play. 

luke’s breath hitched in his throat, suddenly too aware that you were so close to him. he could feel your breath against the nape of his neck, your lips dangerously close to where his tattoo was. he snuck a glance at you, noting how you were too focused on his score inching closer to your own. 

“ha!” you yelled, pulling away from him. you bumped his hip with yours, moving him out of the way, “my turn.” 

“okay, you cheated.” 

you hit pause on the game, placing your hands on your waist, “how?” 

“you were distracting me! putting your head on my shoulder and shit.” 

“awww,” you cooed, playfulness in your tone, “do i make you nervous?” 

luke’s face flushed. he shook his head, tilting his head down to hide the color on his face. he rubbed the back of his neck, “play your fucking game.” 

you said something about him being a sore loser and cheered loudly when you beat his score. when you both ran out of lives, luke led you to guitar hero and as expected, kicked your ass at the game. the two of you played in the arcade until there was one golden token left in the bottom of the bucket. as you wandered around the room, your eyes landed on a black and white photobooth tucked away in the corner. 

“let’s take some pictures,” you grabbed his hand, leading him over there before he could say no. you shoved him inside the photobooth, tapping his knee to make him stop manspreading on the small bench. 

it could barely fit two people so it was a tight squeeze. you were sitting so close to luke, thighs pressed together as you tapped on the small screen to begin the process. luke could feel the warmth of your skin against his and he was glad that there was no colored photos option because his cheeks were bright red. maybe he can blame the lights making him feel hot if you brought it up, but he wasn’t sure if his voice even worked enough to utter out his excuse. 

“you better smile, castellan,” you threatened, turning to look at him before you inserted the token in the slot. “not that little side smirk shit that you do in all your pictures.” 

“what side smirk?” 

“that thing you do in your pictures!” you shouted, “in every single instagram post, you always do it.” 

luke raised an eyebrow, a cocky smile appearing on his lips, “you’ve stalked my instagram?” 

“not the point,” you ducked, pretending to mess with the settings of the photobooth. luke can see your shy smile on the screen in front of him. “i’m just saying, smile normally.” 

“that’s how i smile, five star! what do you want me to do?” 

“that is not how you smile!” you argued. you took a deep breath, steadying yourself as you faced him. he was already looking at you, soft eyes and a hint of a smile on his features. a stray curl was out of place on his head and you couldn’t stop yourself from reaching over to put it back in place. luke held his breath as your fingers grazed the side of his face, taking much longer than you needed to fix his hair. your thumb subconsciously rubbed against the scar on his cheek. luke let his eyes close at the feeling. 

“there,” you whispered, pulling your hand back to your side. “that’s how you smile.” 

he tried his best to keep that same expression on his face to see what you were talking about. he glanced at the screen and found himself stunned at what he found. you were right. this is not how he looked in his instagram pictures. he almost didn’t recognize himself as he stared. he looked different like this. 

there were no creases between his eyebrows or on his forehead, like there was no stress on his shoulders. his eyes looked brighter somehow as if he was at peace, exactly where he needed to be at that moment. his lips were quirked up in a tender smile, parts of his teeth showing between the gap of his top lip and bottom lip. did he always look like this when he was with you? awe-struck and enraptured by your presence? 

he should feel pathetic, but he couldn’t bring himself to, not when you were looking at him like you enjoyed this clandestine look on his face, a look that he reserved only for you. he couldn’t feel pathetic when you were looking at him in the same way. a secret language between the two of you, that nobody else in the world could even begin to understand.

the countdown on the screen started and luke was pulled from his thoughts quickly when you pressed your cheek against his, grinning as the timer flashed across the screen. he let himself smile, teeth on full display before the flash went off. the second countdown began and luke watched you fumble around to pick the next pose. you settled on a silly pose, sticking your tongue out as you held up the ‘rock and roll’ sign with your hand. he followed your lead, letting a snicker leave his lips at how fitting the pose was. 

the final photo was uncoordinated. luke wasn’t ready for the flash to go off. you placed your hand on his shoulder, craning your neck to look up at him. if he leaned down an inch or two, his lips would touch yours. the realization had the wires in his brain crossed. when the machine took the picture, luke was staring lovingly into your eyes, a look of indecision on his face. his lips were curled into a bashful smile, the tip of his nose touching yours. 

“five star,” luke breathed out, his arm snaking around your waist. your leg was now placed on top of his own. 

you gulped, nudging his nose with yours, “luke…” 

he’d never heard his name leave your lips before other than when you were mocking the gossips you heard about him. he’d never heard your real voice call him by his name. now that he has, he was addicted to the sound of it. he never liked his name that much, but somehow, when you said it, it sounded like poetry. he never thought a single syllable could sound so beautiful, have his knees buckling at the utterance of it. but with you, he supposed there was always a first for everything. 

when the bright red words stating “your photos are ready!” illuminated the inside of the photobooth, the two of you jumped apart from each other, blushing wildly. luke took a moment for himself inside the photobooth, rubbing his face with his palms, as you walked out to retrieve the pictures. luke followed you after taking a few deep breaths. 

he saw you leaning against the wall, the two strips of pictures in your hand. you had a goofy grin on your face, admiring them. luke sauntered next to you, taking a look at the photos. 

he accepted the strip of photos you handed him, “we probably should’ve discussed our poses beforehand.” 

“i dunno,” you were still staring at the pictures, biting your bottom lip. “i like ‘em.”

luke hummed, taking out his wallet. he folded the strip in threes, slotting the last photo in the clear compartment of his wallet. it looked perfect against the black leather, like it was the last thing needed to make his wallet look complete. he slipped it back in his back pocket, taking yours out to return to you. 

“smoke shop?” he asked. 

“please,” you nodded, beginning to walk out of the arcade. you waved goodbye to chiron who moved onto doing the daily crossword. “bye chiron! great to meet you!” 

he bid the two of you goodbye, a knowing gaze on his face. you were already out the door when he sent luke a wink that had him shaking his head, face turning red at the man’s antics. luke shut the door behind him, ushering you over to the sidewalk towards the smoke shop, “i’m out of cigs too, so this is actually perfect timing.” 

you waited outside the smoke shop, sitting on the curb. luke had a fake id (for research purposes, of course. he was just curious to see what the kentucky ids looked like.) so he bought your vape and his cigarettes. when he emerged, he joined you on the curb, pulling out his phone to call an uber back to camp. 

the sun was long gone and he could hear the owls hooting in the distance. it was not a good idea to walk back to camp, even if it wasn’t even a mile away. he watched you unwrap your vape, taking a small hit from it. he lit his cigarette with the lighter he carried with him and smoked with you in silence. 

“uber is gonna take twenty minutes,” he said, placing his phone between the two of you, face up. “i’m guessing there’s not many people around here.” 

you glanced at his phone, giggling at his lockscreen. it was a picture of the entire band, wearing matching novelty sunglasses taken at a .5 angle. they looked ridiculously like the guys you’ve grown to adore. “i like your lockscreen.” 

luke tapped his phone to wake it up. he let out a laugh, “mom took it when we played vegas for the first time. we were too young to go out and we were too afraid to use our fakes so we went to m&m world and got wired on sugar.” 

“you guys are really close, huh?” 

“got to be,” luke shrugged, “we’re together 24/7, but even before that… these guys are my brothers. love ‘em, even when they’re a pain in my ass. what’s your lockscreen?” 

you pulled out your phone, showing him the picture of you, clarisse, and silena flipping off the camera. it was taken during one of your (failed) attempts at studying at the library. you were all in sweatpants and large hoodies with the stress of midterms evident on your faces. “that’s silena, my other best friend from unc. her boyfriend, charlie, took this picture because he said we looked absolutely miserable. and we do, but it makes me happy looking back at it. we were struggling together and we somehow made it out together.” 

“i do not miss school at all,” luke blew out the smoke in his mouth, “i was a shit student.” 

“but now look at you,” you teased, “mr. rockstar.” 

“yeah, yeah,” luke copied your voice, “can’t complain.” 

you hummed, tucking your vape in the pocket of luke’s hoodie, “you can, especially with me. i’m the number one hater, so i enjoy complaining quite a bit.” 

“oh, i know.” 

you smacked his arm, rolling your eyes as he stumbled in his seat, laughing. you cleared your throat, voice turning serious, “seriously. i owe you for today, so complain to me all you want.” 

“you don’t owe me shit, five star,” luke put out his cigarette, standing up as his phone alerted him that the uber was coming soon. he held out his hand to help you up. “but i will take you up on that offer. of course, i can only do that if you don’t ignore me for weeks again.” 

you slapped his hand away, shaking your head, smiling, “shut the fuck up.” 

luke flagged down the uber, placing a hand on your lower back to lead you into the backseat. you entered, making polite conversations with the lady in the driver’s seat. 

“for chase?” 

luke nodded, “yup, thanks so much.” 

as the car drove off in the direction of camp, you turned to luke, mouthing, “chase?” 

he took out his wallet and handed you his fake id: chase reed, brown eyes, brown hair, 5’11. 

luke safely tucked the id back in its slot when you tossed it back at him, giggling at his alter-ego. he didn’t say anything when you moved closer to him, sitting in the middle seat, and held his hand the rest of the way back to camp.

[velvet-paradox]

Rewarded

Fandom: Call of Duty/ Fantasy AU Pairing: Knight!König x Princess!Female reader Summary: You've been living a double life to get close to the kingdom's blood Knight. Length: Long Warnings: NSFW 18+ ONLY, L-bomb, friends to lovers, pining, magic, p in v, creampie, smut.

"Squire! Where the devils are you?"

You came running through the stables, your cloak, cardinal red flowed and swirled around your form. You nearly tripped over a bucket, dust and manure kicking up behind you. Maybe you would have reached your destination more swiftly had you not been carrying that book about.

"I say, squire!"

You stopped just short of your Knight, only bumping just slightly into his polished armor. You had done quite the job this morn! You could make out your own reflection in the metal breast plate or rather the reflection you had created.

"I am here sire. I made great haste through the halls but to no avail I am proven to be late once more." Your knight, the one you bet on every joust, a victor, a champion merely looked down at your presence. What König saw was a scrawny squire boy, moppy hair, holes along the thighs of your leggings, boots a size too big and shrouded by a far too portly cloak. The complete opposite of your true identify.

"You need to put that brain rot away, where it belongs. In the catacombs, in the libraries, down in the archives and not in the stables, boy!" König tsked you through his helmet, only enough room to see his gorgeous blue eyes sparkle behind them. One this occasion he had smeared some coal along his face, making the two orbs stand out like stars in the night sky.

You had often wondered what that would be like, oh how you enjoyed his company! To lay beneath the stars out in the mossy valley, just you and your knight, enjoying the silence. Counting stars, making out constellations. Sharing knowledge. Passing the time. He might even one day choose to hold your hand in the misty dark.

"But it not just some tome, sire! Theses are ancient texts, a forgotten language that I refuse to let drift along like wood in the river. Someone took the time to write all of this down, is it not in favor of knowledge to not let that die on deaf ears?"

"You think too much for such a squire. Come now, put that down and help me."

"But sire--"

"Oh no, boy! Not that 'knowledge before the blade' stuff again. Just do as you are told."

You did not wish to set the book down on some filthy hay, König's pride and joy of a black and grey speckled horse, Sapphire, had recently relieved herself on, you kicked over a half full buck and set it down.

"Aye 'ave you been in here long?" The captain, John Price announced with his booming voice into the stables. It never failed to make you jump, stepping on the armored foot of the Knight. He toked on a cigar from some other realm, it smelled sickly sweet it made your nose twitch.

"Yes sir, all evening, why?"

"The princess… she is feared missing. Again. The king of course has asked me to keep it quiet but I thought maybe she were out here with you." John gave you a sneering look as you kicked around some dirt.

"Nay. And why should the princess be out here with the likes of me, then?" König retorted.

He gave you a bump when he heard you curse in the presence of the captain.

You knew why he'd asked, König did as well. It is simply because--

"You two are well aquatinted. Everyone in the kingdom knows that! If she were not lusted after by suitors here or in the next realm, courted by Sebastian Kruger himself but you did not hear such from me, I would say she would on your arm, no?" Price chuckled out plumes of smoke.

"Hardly. We are merely friends. And no, I have not seen her grace."

"Very well. The scouts will be looking over the grounds, if you see her, let her know she is requested to the box."

While they chatted about the celebratory joust, being small and hidden, were able to slink away. An empty stable, no prying eyes, you revealed yourself in the corner. You whisked off the glamour magic that had made you König's squire boy. Rounding your bare shoulders, holes were daintily carved out in a wave like design that carried across your chest. Embroidery details of flowers and leaves sewn delicately through the sheer puffy sleeves.

With your head held high, you hurried out of said stable, outside of them truly, and feigned your innocence. You even hummed a little tune as you passed by, loud enough for if not one but both were to hear, to keep your secret hidden.

"Aye! My lady Y/N, where have you been?" Price barked and proceeded to bow as you made your way back to these men as if you were not just there moments ago.

"My dear captain, is it illegal for me to strut about my own kingdom? Since when?"

"That is not what I meant, I-I merely was concerned for your well being. Foreigners have been known to steal royalty at such large events. Held ransom or far worse, my dear."

"And you think the great König would have allowed that?" You scoffed, leaning an arm onto König's shoulder like a foothold. The gentle rattle of his armor was cool against your sheer sleeves. "I think not sir. I was just strolling about, enjoying the days warmth and as you can see, no harm fell on me."

"Very well," Price announced, hiding his cigar from your dress. "When you are finished here, Sebastian will be waiting for you in the box. Good luck König."

"Yes, König," you taunt, playfully of course. This double life thing was getting quite tiresome but this was the bed you made and you must lay in it. "Very good luck."

"Have you already placed your bets, my lady?" König asked, banter in his voice as well as he stroked Sapphire's tidy mane.

"First thing I did this morning!" actually the first thing you did this morning was use a bit of magic, not too much to be suspicious but enough to polish the armor the big man before donned. "You know I always bet on you."

"Ah! My biggest supporter, really."

"Ha! All of the kingdom adore you König, and you know it." You clasped your hands in front of you, testing him to see if he'd cave and look down at your cleavage. "Where is your squire? he has left his book."

"That old thing, I should just let Sapphire piss all over it. More harm than good that thing. He most likely tore out of here in a frenzy, terrified of Price."

"König! You take that back at once, if the boy has a hobby, let him have it. Lord know he needs something to deal with the likes of you all damn day!"

"I mean this in the nicest of ways dear princess, but kindly, piss off." You snorted when he tripped against the stool, bending over and righting it for him so he could properly mount Sapphire. This time you did in fact catch him peeking. Blue eyes on yours quickly thereafter.

"As you wish sir," you curtsied and just before you swayed away from the stables, you grabbed up the book. "For safe keeping of course."

"Of course, princess."

….

"Whose he up against again?" Sebastian asked next to you, over the roar of the crowd. His breath already reeking of wine.

"Keegan. USMC's finest knight. Did you not see the bulletin when you arrived two days prior?"

"Guess I was too concerned about getting between my princesses legs." You whacked him arm, your father was nearby and heaven forbid he find out you are sleeping with the potential enemy, or that you were no longer pure. Might send him into an early grave.

The truth was you hadn't slept with the man beside you, flirted with the idea, but then he would say something most fowl and you couldn't help but pray your father might put you out of your misery and have the man exiled from the kingdom.

"Watch your tongue, Sebastian. You do know I can order it cut from your face, correct?"

"Would you continue to use it?"

"You are a sick man, Kruger. Ugh."

Everyone was finally settling down for the joust, your countrymen across from you shouting jeers and the dislike for your Knight, vice versa. It was all fun and games until someone had a little too much, lost in their cups, sheets to the wind and made the wrong choice. They'd end up sleeping it off that next day in the stocks if not worse depending.

All that mattered was the book safely hidden under your seat and that König would turn to be the victor, to receive a kiss upon his helm.

Sapphire soon set the scene, prancing out on the left side of the course, shaking her mane, swishing her tail, stomping her hooves into the sand. König held up his arm, his decorated lance, to the cheering crowd. As he did his first lap around, he had Sapphire stop in front of your box and curtsey, König even tipped an imaginary hat to you.

Keegan did the same, one lap and a show of grace and gratitude.

"Who do you suppose--"

"König never fails me."

It was true. Almost as if by some divine luck did König always win once you began betting on the man. You'd watch from your fathers' box until you were old enough to get your own, years now, close in proximity of course, had to remind you not to shout too loudly, that it wasn't very ladylike. You spat at that remark. A lady can choose whatever she does. The tantrums you would throw about hearing conversations of betrothment, sent off or given to some ugly prince or old king. Blegh. The thought of being touched made your blood boil, it was bad enough Sebastian thought you might lay with.

Bundling or bare. Yuck.

One might think, by your words, that you had used your magic to keep the score, keep him on the winning list of things but this was all König. You were told he was special. The faeries told you so one evening in the veranda, making their little mushroom circle so they could live lavishly, dancing about like fire flies.

"You know of König? the blood Knight, yes?"

"Of course."

"He is very special, not only to you but to all the realm, all who look upon him. See that he is looked after. Cared for, loved and he shall return it ten fold!"

"I am not going to use a spell or curse him."

"No no, princess. Not like that. How would you nurse a kitten back to health? with time and care, patience. Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

Their high pitch whispers in your ear tingled the hairs on your arms and neck. The little fae never left your garden, had been there before you were even thought of all those years ago, let alone how would they know about König?

And he did not fail yet again this night. The clashing of lance to chest plate, the crowd, the roar and grunts of pounding steeds and hooves in sand. The excitement, the adrenaline of watching two brutes joust and beat each other back and forth for all its' worth. All the praise, to be champion. All the spoils to the victor. Keegan was a dear friend and ally, all was not lost after the battle. Armor a bit dented, but nothing too serious. No wooden pieces had been lodged anywhere tender.

König trotted Sapphire towards your box and you made your way down the little steps, leaning over the balcony and looked straight into his eyes. They were on fire. He radiated heat and exhaustion.

You put your hands on his pauldrons and leaned in close.

"You fought valiantly, you are rewarded kindly." You kissed both sides of his helmet, lingering a bit on the second one as you could smell his aroma, distinctly König with added sweat of course. Bergamot, red currants, burning wood, hay; divine. "My blood Knight."

Sapphire even allowed a little snout pat before trotting off.

….

"Should I be worrisome, child?" Your father asks of you, as you lay in bed lipping through the pages of the book. He does not care much for your reading habits, most unbecoming of a young lady even though you are closer an age to König than most of the gentry women you surround yourself with. They are of the season, supple and willing to marry old wealth, put up with splotched hands on smooth skin, made some slave woman of her own name in a locked away tower somewhere. You've heard the horrors, seen the terrors. It is not pretty.

"Of what now, father?" You ask without even looking up.

"Of your friendship with the blood Knight," your father paced the length of you room, settling himself out on to the balcony, hands drawn and clasped behind his back. With a sigh you will your legs to move, to bookmark the page and get up. "Are you two… meaning to be more than friends?"

"Father please. König and I are truthfully platonic," you pat his shoulder with a genuine smile, even though behind your eyes and heart you wished nothing more than to be his beloved. "He cares for winning jousts as much as I. A true KorTac champion, yes? A real Knight."

"I suppose your are quite right, I just… I get the feeling there is something there and I do not know if I wish it to be true, someone to look after you once I am gone, well taken care of, loved. I do know you spend some time with Sabastian, supervised of course, to each their own child, I just do not care for his arrogance and stature."

"His stature?"

"He boasts himself too much, puts on airs. Is most embarrassing I must say."

"Agreed! Truth is father, if I were to be presented to someone for marriage I would gladly take König's hand any day."

"As friends?"

"As friends."

….

That was a lie but you did not wish to rush your father off to an early grave, if he knew your true intentions with your Knight. You would spend hours, disguised as his squire boy, listening to him rant and retell you stories of his valor, fighting off ogres at the outer wall of your kingdom. How he'd gained the trust of the elves, the way they taught him a few choice words over roast fowl and freshly caught fish. How the fire breathers danced in the moonlight, when he saved the life of several children from a dragon. He had the scales of the fallen beast sewn into his chainmail for added protection.

Not only did you want to watch the stars with König, some nights you would cast out magical hearts along your ceiling as you wished he would make you see them. Oh to be underneath him, you thought with a sigh, to see his face for the first time, to touch him, to kiss him. Maybe a true loves kiss if the faeries were correct.

"Preside over him as much as you can and you will be grateful and rewarded."

The ballroom is filled with jovial voices, sober until the actual dance begins. Sheathed swords line the walls, of all sizes, your kingdoms banners flow and move against the high ceilings. Other knights stop by your throne and bow their heads before moving on to get a drink, or something to nibble on. Which is what you are doing, quietly of course, cant be seen as royalty with spinach in your teeth now can you?

"Your grace, will you be joining me along the dance floor this evening?" Kruger suddenly popped up, he always does that, he' so slinky. Quiet as the field mice you used to catch when you were small.

"Must I?"

"I would appreciate one dance before I go to the wall, pray tell who knows how long I shall be without your beauty this time."

Forever, you grumbled to yourself and covered your mouth with a fake smile. "One dance."

"One time is all I need, princess."

Gowns of gold and greens, blue patterns woven into the busts, everyone was buzzing about, König's repeat victory, who was going to be wed at the beginning of the season, bets on who would be in the stocks come next morning.

A round of applause erupted and you need not guess who its' praise was for. He towered over everyone here he might as well be an elf. He waved and bowed to everyone, Keegan following suit, getting his own set of admirers. Some flouncy women would be joining him this evening no doubt to soothe his loss.

"Do you think you could handle that much attention, my dear? All eyes would be on you as well if you were to wed the blood knight."

Your father said next to you, a goblet in hand as he watched you watch König do his tour about the ballroom.

"I don't mind. I am not jealous, father. He can do as he pleases, go where he is needed most, helpful as long as he comes home to me in one piece."

"Well… Kruger will be displeased to hear it."

"Pfft, I do not care what the likes of Sebastian Kruger have to say. He is most, annoying is to put it lightly."

"Agreed."

The music is as light as the conversations as you dance a round with Sebastian, he's easy to move with. You've danced with him before, when you caught his eye apparently. He'd been trying to get your attention, bringing you blood stained trinkets in exchange for your affections. You weren't buying it and when he wasn't looking you'd toss them into some bushes with a roll of your eyes.

He suggested another dance when the orchestra faded out into a newer song and thankfully you didn't have to turn him down as you two bumped into König.

"Afraid not friend, this one is for me."

Kruger slunk away, giving you a bow as it would be highly inappropriate to argue with the winner of the nights' champion. It didn't help how König had said for me. You would ride that high for weeks, surely.

"You did save a dance for me didn't you, princess?"

He'd cleaned up, lighter gear of course, different helmet too. He'd even scrubbed off the coal, though his eyes were still just as bright and clear. He bowed.

"Several in fact, my knight." You also bowed and got into position, holding onto his armored body, you began to move about the room. "Have you already danced with some fellow maidens? Am I slim pickings?"

"Ha! I did not know you were suddenly a jester, my lady!" König chuckled behind his helmet, fingers intertwined with your own as he turned to spin you out only to bring you back in with your back to his chest. "Maybe you should start wearing one of those hats as well."

"Oh please, König. I know you are what the youths call a lady killer."

"I shall have you know, your grace, I have never killed a woman in my life!"

"Not seriously, you oaf."

He shook his head at you as you continued to dance, another song melted into the next and you thought he would bid you good night but instead insisted, begged for another dance. Who were you to object to his request? Plus he was warm and playful and you didn't have to pretend, using magic to be this close to him.

"You did not answer my query?" You pulled your body closer, leaning up against his armor, a blur of your reflection caught in the chest plate.

"Nein my lady, I do believe I only have enough energy to keep up with thee."

"You mean your name will not be attached to any maiden but myself?"

"That is correct. Should I use force and bring out my dagger, make it a point to the kingdom that I dare court the princess after a joust? Say the words and I shall." He joked and spun you, making you dip your head back.

"Oh König, you know I am a firm believer of knowledge before the blade."

He stilled for a moment, looking at you with earnest blue eyes. You were about to inquire what was suddenly the matter when it dawned on you what you had just exclaimed.

"I beg your pardon…. I did in fact not know that about you."

You flustered and shrugged as the other dancers proceeded to swell and dance around your still forms. "I uh, it is a common phrasing, is it not? One should be skilled in both, I am sure your squire would not mind giving you a tour in the archives. Should you pull out your blade you may as well bring out your quill as well." You tried to cover your tracks, it seemed to work as he was swaying a bit, getting into the groove of the dance once more.

"I suppose so. I have only heard my squire say such is all. And what shall I learn down there, hmm?"

"Perhaps the art of properly courting."

"Ouch! Oh how you wound me, a dagger to my side. That means I shall have to try harder to impress you then, princess. And I will."

….

You had been down in the libraries all evening, getting permission from König to do some light reading which of course meant you were pouring over that big book. The choice words, the incantations and spells were incredible. Written in a form you had you use your own magic to decipher, it took a few tries to figure out the meanings. Why were they written in the first place? If you know the casts, why keep them locked and in this two clasp book? If you are born of magic, like yourself, you would already have the knowledge, already gifted just needed to harness and control it.

You bit into your thumb while you deciphered the words in the air above you, kicked back, rocking dangerously on the back two legs of your chair.

Just then the doors burst open loudly, others studying shooshed the intruder and you could hear the clank of armored boots. Hurriedly you put the words back into the book just in case.

"Squire! There you are."

"Well yes sire, you told me I could study today."

"I think I have made a grave mistake."

"What have you done?" You asked and brought the chair back to its' original position.

He clanked and pulled out another chair, seating himself next to you, his helmet is in hands. "How old are you lad? Maybe fifteen?"

"I am all of sixteen, sire." Which is a complete farce as you are about double that, give or take a few months. "Why?"

"I figured. You have not yet begun courting young maidens. Do not follow my example as I made an absolute baffoon of myself last night at the ball. I did not mean to admit hidden feelings but I did so freely! How can I court her? What if she thinks I jest too much, I know how much she humors me with her wit but for the sake of my name and title, what shall I do?"

You looked confused. "Who did you make a mockery in front of? I did not see any such act. Was this behind closed doors?" Saliva had pooled in your mouth, had he admitted his admiration to some other beauty after your dances last night? Had you been actual slim pickings? Was he trying his best not to crush your feelings?

"You were there last night? Well my eyes were elsewhere I suppose. The princess, what must she think of me now? I dare not show my face to her. Well, you know what I mean, boy. I was in such a jovial mood I let my feelings out of their cage and for what? She is probably laughing about it with her friends. If word gets out--"

"What did you say to her, sire that would leave you in such a state?"

"I told her in not so many words that I plan on courting her! Impressing her! Showing off as if I have not been in love with her for years, how foolish of me, squire. What was I thinking? Jousting I can do with my eyes closed, protect the kingdom, no problem. Man the wall with the other Knights, tell me when and where. Battle, I have been to plenty and fought valiantly to see another day, clearly. But love, squire? I am but a pest." He clunked his helmet down on the long table.

You winced as you bit your tongue, watching your blood Knight pound his fist as if he were just a boy the age you were glamourized as. Not the recognized Knight all of Kortac and the surrounding realms and kingdoms knew of. He was in love with you? How dreadful it must've been to watch Kruger try to impress you, expressing himself with gestures.

"Sire, maybe this is not the best place to have this conversation," you shakily say, looking about the other knowledge seekers who were giving you two a dirty look. "Maybe your chambers?"

With a huff he lifted his heavy head and looked at you. "I suppose you are right, boy."

You felt incredibly small here, alone, with your Knight. His room was massive, tools of the trade, several sets of armor on display. Swords, some chipped from battle hung up above his bed in display, he did have a book or two set aside but their slipcovers looked a tad dusty. His bed was large and draped with several blankets, fluffed pillows too.

He sat at his desk, taking off his gloves and tapped where his mouth would be. "What should I do squire? What young man knowledge can you share with me if any?"

"I'm afraid I am not the right one to ask, um would you mind closing your eyes for a moment?" You held your hands behind your back, rocking on the balls of your feet.

"No funny business, or I'll take off your nose."

"Wouldn't dream of it. Just humor me a moment."

"Fine fine."

König sighed and shut his visor, you rubbed your hands together as you normal did to conjure up some magic. You took your time to reveal yourself, from the prickling, silly feeling at the crown of your skull to the ends of your feet, shimmering and fading away like balls of sand. Long gone was the boyish façade of leggings and a tattered cloak, replaced by your clean skin and dress.

"They don't have knowledge to share, but I do." Your voice came through and instantly König snapped his visor open and stood. "What are you doing here, my lady? Where is my squire? He was just here… are you in league with him?" König looked around his room, moving about, looking behind curtains, opening cupboards and closets, even the trunk at the end of his bed. Beneath it. Looking for a ghost with no name.

"I've been lying to you, König. It was the only way."

"The only way for what?" He said peeling back the curtains from his window again just to be certain.

Words bloomed and died on your tongue several times over before you finally came up with, "It was the only way I could get close to you unsupervised. No lady in waiting, no escort."

"What sort of trickery is this? Where is my squire, princess? He's here somewhere."

"I am your squire!"

"Prove yourself." He said and paused, waiting, standing still.

With a wave of your hand you transformed into his young apprentice, shock in his eyes. "See. I have been using glamour magic to conceal the truth, the faeries told me you are special and that I should look over you. I would be rewarded if I did and all that was was just an excuse to further our relationship."

"Why? Why go through the trouble?" He asked after being very visibly shocked that you were two in the same, one person, same thoughts, same actions. He came around the bed and looked down at you fumbling with your jewelry, twisting your rings, messing with your necklace. "I am just a Knight."

"Nein. You are not just some Knight König, you are my Knight and I am over the moon in love with you." You answered with a shrug when you changed back. "There was nothing to stop me."

"You love me?" König's voice wavered, on the very knifes edge of sounding accusatory. "Truly?"

"Incredibly so."

He inhaled deeply and walked past you, leaving you to look out one of his windows, you padded your way over to the high glass pane. KorTac was bustling, moving like ants in their hills and nests. Tears welled in your eyes when you did not hear him any further, left to sulk in your own dismay.

You had lied to him, pretended to be someone else entirely. Tempted to use magic, to quell your sorrow, maybe conjure up a storm so everyone know how pained you were in this moment. You may have lost him for good. You knew how filthy he thought liars were. Even if you did care for the Knight, your actions spoke volumes. Tomes the size of that book you so cleaved.

The door to his chamber creaked open, you couldn't hear his armor but instead came heavy footfalls followed by the locking of the door. "Do you mean it? The care you have for me? It is true?" His voice sounded different.

"Of course I mean it." You wiped at your eyes, tears had clumped your lashes together as you watch two little girls skip through the market below.

His footsteps pounded the floor, his hands rested on your shoulders and for the briefest of seconds, you caught his face in the glass of the window. You gasped.

"What are you doing?"

"If what you say is honest and true, turn around and face me."

You did, turning around you rocked on your feet seeing his bare face. The shape of his jaw, the curve of his lips and the bridge of his nose. All is revealed. He even smiled a little.

"You are handsome, no wonder you cover your face. Everyone would either wish to be you or to have sex with you!"

König snorted into a laugh. "Well thank you my lady, I have been called many things but handsome is not one of them." He smiled again, wider this time. "I can't believe I didn't realize it was you all this time, you kept your eyes and nose the same."

"I'm glad you didn't, I would be in quite some trouble."

"Certainly," König hummed and touched your face with the back of his hand, he'd never touched you like this before. He thumbs over your bottom lip and chin, tilting up your grinning face. "You are a very naughty girl. You have witnessed me shirtless on quite a few occasions over these last several months. Unchaperoned. How scandalous! And to think every time you went missing you were really with me."

"I was not complaining."

"Nein nein, my squire would do no such thing."

….

The first round of kisses were light and sweet, a hint of some sort of berry slipped into your mouth when he licked inside. His hands in your hair, cupping your face, holding your neck, ghosting over your collar as he wrapped you up in his arms.

It didn't feel strange or out of place when you pulled at the strings of your gown, letting it loosen around your shoulders before letting the garment pool around your feet. You stepped out of your flats, climbing on to his lap. The way his shift moved against your bare skin sent shivers up your back.

His large hands, used to battle and action, calloused and laced with past encounters felt warm against your back as he rocked you, laying back when you pushed at his chest.

"Are you in control, princess? Shall I give up all resolve?"

You only smirked and laid across him, brushing some stray strands of his hair behind his ear. "If you love me you will you let me."

"I would let you do unholy things to me." König admitted, tucking his hands behind his head as you moved down his form, lifting his shirt and mouthing over the skin you found in your wake. A large bruised on his ribs were nursed by your lips, kissing over the tapestry of scars that made him. He took it off soon after, helping you take off his trousers as well.

You stilled your hand above his groin, feeling the heat radiate off his conditioned body.

"Do I have your allowance?"

"You have every permission, princess."

You were overly full when you rose to fit him inside your cunt, already as mess of arousal. The noise he made when you sat, taking all of his length at your speed was incredible. You desperately needed to hear it, more of it. Apparently for König as well as he let out more sighs and moans of pleasure, grabbing your rocking hips and rolled you over with a hrmph.

He hissed through his teeth, "I can't take much more of that pace I'm afraid, my lady."

"Eager to fill me are you Knight?" You giggled, feeling him twitch inside you, he bent down and framed your head with his hands, pining your wrists to the bed.

"All night if you let me."

"Like you said," you leaned up and kisses him hard, flexing your hands. "I would let you do unholy acts to me."

That motivation is what got you pinned and fucked more than once that night. His thick cock slipping through your folds as if you were made for each other, he fit so snuggly. Your pussy trapped him, the praises he sang in your honor. How you sobbed his name when he thrusted into you, moving his hips as if he were riding Sapphire. The reverb of the meat of your ass when he finally rolled you over for a second round, bouncing and reveling in the way König's voice sounded almost watery against your ear.

I love you's in between sloppy kisses, the sharp pinch of teeth on flesh. You couldn't get enough. Yes your Knight was inside you, both of you moving as one, connected. Attached. The look in his eyes when he'd pull his cock out slowly only to push it back into your spongy, wet walls. You moved up the bed, the wood of the headboard bouncing gently with his thrusts.

"You are a naughty princess, haven't even properly courted you yet and here you are, balls fucking deep."

"Keep it up my love, you will cum for me once more."

"Can't believe you feel this fucking good. All our b-banter, our back and forth for this to turn into true love. I love you princess."

König held your throat while you rode him, moaning his name, scratching your nails down his arms. You leaned down, burrowing your face into this side of his sweaty neck, on instinct you licked some of it, delighted by König's groan and grab to your hip, you bit down, sucking on him.

You came again, holding on to him tight, the feeling of him bucking up into you, matching push and pull with a chase to climax together once more. You were already sticky, already filled up three times, as round after round had you two on the edge.

"One more princess, one more time for your Knight." König purred after digging his free hand into your hair, keeping you at his neck.

"I don't think I can! I am empty." You whined but kept fucking him.

"Nonsense princess, you are simply filled with me. Load after load you have taken. I am addicted to this pleasure you have wrought out of me."

It was then that you straightened up, leaning back enough to rub at your bundle of nerves, swollen still, dripping wet with hidden activities. König enjoyed the look of what you were doing to yourself, holding onto one of your breasts as you rubbed yourself faster, König could not take his eyes away.

"König please…. bitte I can't… I can't last… I'm--"

"I know it I know it, my love. I can feel you shaking, let it out for me bitte. Then we rest."

You felt it building up, your heart pounding in your chest, exhausted and incredibly satisfied. You could even hear how wet you were, how messy your pussy could sound. Messy with his cum and your arousal, thinking of yourself roaming your kingdom with his seed dripping down your unseen legs got you there. You toppled over, a fresh release of wetness and you were done for.

"One. Last. Time."

Slain by your own hand.

"Bless you princess, I knew you could do it." König groaned, finishing inside you for the fourth time, you were sure he was the empty one now. The morning light shone through his windows as you both laid there, holding hands and catching your breaths.

You laughed into his shoulder, sore but in the best and earned way possible. He kissed your forehead and tucked into your side. You were glad that you had listened to the fae, because you were clearly grateful and rewarded.

Tagging: @powerfultenderness @nepomami

[nova-is-a-writer-now]

Highway Heat

Summary: Your car breaks down in the middle of nowhere and the trucker you flag down offers more than just roadside assistance.

A/N: Lord oh lord… I tried to be good i swear, i really tried to behave. The thing is my sweet beta reader @hautecouture02 requested a little roadside encounter one shot with Joel, specifically asking for FLUFF, and i swear on everything holy I tried my best to keep it PG… but sometimes things don’t go as I planned. So here, take this absolute filth of a one shot that’s little more than PWOP. ENJOY!!!!

Warnings: As previously stated, this is pretty much PWOP, Trucker!Joel i know nothing about trucks lol, maybe some dub!con at first but the internal dialogue shows hella consent, groping, fingering, a bit of praise and a bit of degradation, pet names like so many of them im not gonna list them all almost too many pet names if you believe in such a thing, grinding, oral male receiving, deep throating

Masterlist

You’re a good person—hell, a great person even. You give your spare change to homeless people, you donate to the puppy shelter every once in a while, you hold your friend’s hair back when they’re throwing up in the back of the club. You’re definitely not the type of person who deserves to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, sweating buckets despite wearing nothing but a spaghetti strap tank and the tiniest pair of shorts you own. This feels like some kind of cosmic punishment.

It is, undoubtedly, the worst possible time for your car to stop working. You’d been putting off the usual checkups on your car for months, knowing full well it was overdue for an oil change, a tire rotation—or whatever men who know their way around a toolbox always say. Your ex used to handle all of that for you, always acting like it was his job to make sure your car ran smoothly. He was that kind of guy who would go out of his way to make your life easier—didn’t mean he was above cheating though.

So now, you’re stuck in your geriatric Honda Civic, the AC busted and the engine refusing to start.

After a few minutes of trying to will it back to life, it’s clear you’re stranded.

You step out of the car, and the heat hits you like a goddamn slap to the face. The road’s deserted, no signs of life for miles, and of course, your phone has no signal. Perfect. Just fucking perfect. You glance down the road, hoping for a miracle, when you spot the rough outline of a truck—a big one, maybe a sixteen-wheeler—coming up in the distance.

Relief washes over you for about two seconds before your brain kicks in, running through every horror movie scenario. But it’s not like you’ve got a buffet of options, so you throw up your hand, waving the truck down as it rolls closer.

It’s a beat-up old thing, paint chipped and covered in dust, but it comes to a slow stop right behind your car. The door creaks open, and out steps a man.

He’s tall, broad, with a face lined with age and tan from long days under the sun. The net cap he wears lets a few of his longer dark curls peek out, the front pieces overpowered by graying hair. He sports a faded plaid shirt and jeans, a pair of well-worn boots kicking up dust as he steps toward you. His dark, intense eyes size you up like you’re part of the landscape he’s used to navigating.

“You alright there, sweetheart?” His voice is deep and gravelly, but the drawl is the star of the show, thick and sweet like honey.

You clear your throat, trying to keep your frustration in check. “Car broke down. Won’t start. No service either.”

He nods slowly, like this is exactly the kind of situation he expects to find out here. “Well, good thing I’m passin’ through.”

You can’t help but roll your eyes a little at that, but desperation makes you bite your tongue. “Think you could take a look?”

He stares at you for a moment, long enough that you wonder if he’s going to offer any help at all. But then he lets out a low sigh, scratches the back of his neck, and walks over to your car, popping the hood like it’s second nature.

For a while, there’s nothing but the sound of him tinkering under the hood, the occasional grunt or muttered curse as he checks things out. You stand there awkwardly, feeling the heat bearing down on you, watching as beads of sweat gather at the back of his neck.

Finally, he steps back, wiping his hands on his jeans. “Shit’s runnin’ on fumes. When’s the last time you had it serviced?””

You shift, feeling stupid. “A while. My ex used to handle it, and, uh… I’ve been busy.”

He gives you a look, something between amusement and pity, before shaking his head. He leans against the car, arms crossed. “I can tow you to a shop in the next town, but it gon’ be a ride.”

You blink up at him, surprised at his offer. “You don’t mind?”

“Nah,” he says, with a shrug, “I’m headin’ that way anyway.”

He moves back to his truck, grabbing a few chains and a tow hitch from the back. Within minutes, he’s hooking up your beat-up Honda Civic to the rear of his truck, working with the ease of someone who’s done this a hundred times before.

“You sure this is safe?” you ask, watching him as he tightens the last chain.

“As safe as it’s gonna get,” he replies with a shrug, brushing the dust from his hands. “Ain’t no mechanic shop out here, so this’ll do ‘til we get to the next town.”

You hesitate, then eye him. “You’re not gonna, like, chop me up and throw me in a ditch, are you?”

He chuckles at that, a nice gravely sound. “If I was, don’t think I’d tell ya, sugar. But no, I ain’t in the business of chopping people up.”

You look at him for a bit longer before sighing. “Fuck it, let’s go.”

He turns, heading back to his truck, his broad back facing you and making it a hell of a lot harder to concentrate

“Name’s Joel, by the way,” he says, glancing back over his shoulder as he opens the passenger door for you.

“Thanks, Joel,” you say, stepping up into the truck’s cab, the cool air from his AC hitting you like a blessing. Maybe your luck hasn’t run out just yet.

You sink back into the seat as he climbs up on his side of the cab, letting the icy air wash over you. There’s something else prickling at your senses though—something that has nothing to do with the temperature. It’s him.

Joel’s glances are obvious, a little too long, lingering like he’s sizing you up. Normally, it’d make you roll your eyes, maybe even tell him off. Old guy like him eyeing you up is nothing you’re unfamiliar with. But today? With the way your body feels sticky and tired, and the way the breakup has left you all out of sorts… you’re almost enjoying it.

You’ve been craving attention and the shitty one night stands with guys from dating apps have done nothing to satiate that need. It’s been months since anyone has touched you and that rational part of your brain that would be yelling at you to be aware of the sleazy old trucker who just picked you off of the side of the road is sounding real quiet right now.

“So…” His voice pulls you from your thoughts as he shifts in his seat, resting one hand lazily on the wheel. “Where you headed?”

You hesitate, eyes on the road ahead. “Just… trying to get home.”

He hums, slow and deliberate. “Home, huh? Got anyone waitin’ on you there? Boyfriend?”

The word slices through you, sharper than you expected. You tighten your jaw, glancing out the window. “No. Not anymore.”

Joel makes a sound, somewhere between a laugh and a grunt. “Well, ain’t that a shame. Pretty thing like you, all alone.”

You should hate the way he says it, the way his eyes flicker toward you like he’s just waiting for an opening. But instead, there’s a strange warmth pooling in your stomach, your pulse picking up in a way you’re not proud of. You shift in your seat, crossing your legs like it’ll somehow tamp down the growing tension in your body. He doesn’t miss it, his smirk growing a little wider.

“That line work on most girls?” you quip, trying to keep things light.

Joel chuckles, the sound low and dangerous. “Depends on the girl. But you look a little… flustered.”

Your cheeks heat up, and it’s not just the sun this time. “I’m not flustered.”

“Sure about that, darlin’?”

You glare at the open road, biting your lip as you try to ignore the way his words are messing with your head—and your body. It’s been way too long since anyone’s looked at you like this. Really looked at you.

The silence stretches out as the truck rumbles along the deserted road. You try to focus on anything but the tension in the air and find it’s impossible. His presence feels inescapable, it fills the cab wrapping around you, pressing down on every nerve.

“You never told me,” Joel says after a while, breaking the quiet. “Where’s home?”

“Texas,” you say quietly, your voice a little steadier now. “But I’m not in any rush to get back.”

“Family trouble?” he asks, his eyes flicking toward you again.

“Something like that,” you mutter. “It’s complicated.”

He hums in response. “Don’t I know it.”

You shift in your seat, crossing your legs, catching Joel watching you out of the corner of his eye. His gaze lingers a little too long on your bare thighs, and there’s a flicker of something dark passing over his face, but he says nothing.

You want to ignore it—God, you should ignore it—especially since you’re stuck with him for a while longer. But the rising heat in your body and the quickening pulse beneath your skin make it hard to think straight, harder still to make good decisions.

So you bite.

“You gonna keep staring, or is this part of your charm routine?” You cock a brow, trying to ignore the way warmth crawls up your neck.

A slow smirk curls at his lips, but he doesn’t look away. If anything, he leans in closer, his hand resting just near your leg, making the air between you buzz. “You think I’m layin’ it on too thick?”

“Little bit,” you quip back, though your voice betrays you with how soft it comes out. You bite your lip, trying to stay sharp, but his eyes flick down to the movement, and the pulsing need low in your stomach tightens. “It’s not working, though.”

His smirk widens, like he’s enjoying this far too much. “Funny. Seems to me it’s workin’ just fine.”

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the way your heart races when he shifts closer, his fingers brushing against your leg. The touch is light, almost casual, but it’s enough to send a shiver racing up your spine, your breath catching in your throat.

“You can roll your eyes all you want, doll. It don’t change the fact I can see what you need, clear as day,” he purrs, his voice dropping lower.

“Oh yeah? And what’s that?” you snap back, though your words lack the heat you want them to have.

“Little bit of attention.”

He reads you too well. It drives you insane. “I don’t need anything from you. Just get me where I need to go.”

A quiet chuckle rumbles from his chest. “That so? ’Cause the way you’ve been shiftin’ in that seat says otherwise.”

You bristle at his words, but the truth sticks like a thorn. There’s a reason you haven’t told him to stop, a reason you haven’t shut this down. You’re tired, frustrated, and the way his eyes keep grazing over you… you can’t stop wondering how easy it’d be to let him pull you under, to let him take all your worries away.

“You’re losing it, old man,” you shoot back, even though you know it’s a losing game. He sees right through you, but that doesn’t mean you’re gonna make it easy.

“Am I?” he purrs, his hand sliding up to rest fully on your thigh. “So, you don’t want me touching you like this, darlin’?”

The way he says it—slow, deliberate, laced with that sweet, thick accent—it’s all innocence, even though everything about it screams otherwise. You know you’ll be hearing that “darlin’” in your head later, when you’re playing with yourself.

You smirk, giving him a little more rope. “I didn’t say that.”

He hums, eyes flicking between the road and your legs. “And I’m guessin’ you wouldn’t say a word if I moved my hand higher, would you?”

Your legs part just slightly, almost like an instinct. Barely noticeable to anyone else. But not to Joel.

“Look at you,” he drawls, a shit-eating smirk spreading across his lips. “Already makin’ it easier for me.”

You’re about to fire back, ready to keep this banter rolling, when his fingers slide higher. A soft sigh escapes your lips before you can stop it.

“You ready to stop actin’ up, or we still playin’ cat and mouse, pretty girl?” His eyes lock on yours, dark and unwavering.

Your pulse quickens at the challenge in his voice, your breath catching in your throat. His fingers are still on your thigh, warm and rough, and it’s messing with your head. You know you should stop this now, make him pull his hand back, but you’re not sure if that’s what you want.

“I’m not acting up,” you murmur, trying to hold on to some sense of control, even though his touch is making that damn near impossible.

His grin widens, like he’s got you exactly where he wants you. “Mhm, sure you ain’t.”

You glare at him, but it’s weak. Pathetic, really, and the worst part is he knows it. He knows how to get under your skin even though he has known you for half an hour, knows exactly what buttons to push to unravel you just enough to keep you hanging on.

“I mean it,” you snap, though your voice wavers. His hand shifts slightly on your thigh, fingers curling just enough to make your stomach twist into knots.

“I wanna believe you,” His voice is low, a quiet rumble that vibrates through you, all the way down to where you’re aching for him to touch you. He leans in a little more, so close now that you can feel the heat radiating off him, smell that familiar scent of worn leather and something dark and intoxicating. “But you keep lettin’ me touch you. Kinda sends a different message, don’t you think?”

Your heart’s pounding in your chest, the steady rhythm of it loud in your ears. You don’t know how to answer, don’t know if you want to answer. Every rational thought in your head is telling you to stop, but your body isn’t listening.

Instead, you shift slightly, your leg pressing into his hand, just enough to encourage him to keep going. His eyes darken, and a slow, dangerous smile tugs at his lips.

“Thought so,” he mutters, and then his fingers start to move again, sliding higher, testing the boundaries you haven’t set.

You bite your lip, trying to hold back the sigh that’s clawing its way up your throat, but it slips through anyway. He hears it, of course he does, and the satisfied gleam in his eyes makes your face flush with heat.

“You wanna tell me to stop, now’s your chance,” he murmurs, his voice soft but carrying an edge of challenge, like he knows damn well you’re not going to.

His gaze shifts between the road and you and it almost seems like every time those eyes are back on you they become darker.

You glance at him, your heart in your throat, and there’s that flicker of hesitation—you should say something, should stop this before it goes any further—but the way his fingers are brushing higher, dangerously close to the ache between your legs, makes it impossible to think straight.

So you just meet his gaze, and you don’t say a word.

His smirk grows, and his hand drifts even higher. “Good girl.” This time he fully gropes your thigh, groaning like he’s been waiting to unleash this. “You wanna take these off for me, sweetheart? Let me give you as much attention as you want.”

He must have some psychic hold on you because you follow his instructions with no hesitation this time. Your fingers eagerly unbotton your shorts and pull the zipper down, lifting your hips to shimmy them down.

He looks at you for a lot longe than he should taking into account he’s currently driving a beast of a vehicle. “Lord above… you’re a sight and a half, darlin’”

He goes back to massaging your thigh, making circles with his thick fingers, going each time higher. Once he reaches your panties he stops and just rests his hand there, right at the edge of where you want him most. His fingers teasingly brush the fabric, enough to make you gasp, but he doesn’t go any further.

“You’re gonna have to ask for it,” he rasps, his voice thick with something darker now. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”

His words are like a key turning in a lock, and your resistance crumbles. You can’t deny it anymore, not when his hand is right there, so close to what you need, your entire body burning up under his touch.

“Joel…” you whisper, your voice almost pleading now, barely more than a breath.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand pressing a little more firmly, his fingers tracing along the outline of your heat through the fabric. “That’s what I wanna hear.”

Your breath stutters, and your hips shift on their own, pressing into his hand. You’re barely hanging on, the tension between you two crackling like a live wire, but he’s still holding back, waiting for you to give in completely.

“Please…” you finally manage, the word spilling out before you can stop it. It’s humiliating and liberating all at once.

“Please what?”

You let out the shadow of a moan. “Please touch me.”

Joel’s hand slips under the fabric, his fingers finally finding your core, and the groan that escapes him sends a shockwave of heat straight to your core. “Good girl,” he breathes, his voice like gravel as his fingers start to move in slow, torturous circles.

Your head falls back against the seat, a whimper escaping your lips as he finally gives you what you’ve been craving. “Jesus, Joel…”

“Feels good, huh?” he rasps, his eyes flicking from the road to you, watching the way your body reacts to every touch, every motion of his hand. “Told you I know exactly what you need, baby.”

You’re melting under his touch, your body humming with the pressure of his fingers moving against you, his voice guiding you deeper into the haze of pleasure. You’re not even sure what’s more intoxicating—the way he’s touching you or the way he’s talking to you, that low, commanding tone unraveling you completely.

“That’s it, sweetness, grind on my fingers, make that little pussy feel good” Joel growls, having a harder time keeping his eyes on the road now.

“Fuck… that feels you good da-“ you stop yourself before you’re able to finish the word. Your ex didn’t like you calling him that, so you usually kept that particular kink under wraps, but something about Joel is making it surface back up.

He looks up at you, pupils blown out. “Say it… say wha you wanna say baby.”

You lose all restraint and moan loudly. “It feels so good, daddy.”

“That’s right, babygirl.” He moans “Daddy’s fingers make your pretty cunt fucking drip don’t they?”

His words send a wave of pleasure through your body, a mixture of shame and intense arousal surging in your chest. You’re too far gone to stop now, letting the haze of lust pull you under completely.

“Yes,” you whisper, the word slipping out like a confession. “So fucking wet.”

Joel’s fingers move faster, rough and skilled, coaxing you into a rhythm that has you arching your back against the seat. His other hand grips the wheel tight, knuckles white, and you can tell he’s barely hanging onto his self-control, but that only makes it hotter.

“Jesus, you’re a fuckin’ dream,” he growls, voice thick with desire. “Been wantin’ to ruin you since the minute you sat your pretty ass in this truck.”

The vulgarity, the way he talks to you—it should feel wrong, but instead, it’s like gasoline thrown on the fire already burning inside you. You grind down harder on his fingers, chasing the high he’s offering, the tension building fast in your core.

You glance over at him, his jaw tight, eyes darting between the road and you, and there’s something so filthy about the way he’s trying to keep it together while driving, the way his control is slipping. You want to push him, make him lose it completely.

“You’re losing it too,” you pant, breathless, pushing your hips into his hand. “Can’t even keep your eyes on the road, can you?”

His gaze snaps to yours, dark and predatory. “Careful. Keep talkin’ like that, and I’ll pull this truck over.”

The threat in his voice makes you shiver, heat pooling low in your belly. You’re right on the edge, your body strung tight as a bow, every nerve lit up under his touch.

“Do it,” you challenge, voice breathless and wrecked.

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his hand gripping your thigh so hard it almost hurts. Without another word, he swerves the truck off the road, gravel crunching under the tires as he pulls into a secluded spot off the highway.

Your heart is pounding, adrenaline mixing with the arousal as he throws the truck into park and turns to face you fully. The look in his eyes is feral, like he’s done holding back, and you brace yourself for what’s coming next.

“Such a little attention whore, baby,” he growls, unbuckling his seatbelt with one hand, the other still teasing you between your legs. “I’m all yours now.”

In one swift motion, he pulls you onto his lap, your thighs straddling his hips, the weight of his hard length pressing against you through his jeans. He is big, a lot bigger than you expected and it makes your mouth water,almost like your body is showing you how badly you need him in a million and one ways.

His hands grip your hips possessively, eyes locking with yours as if daring you to make the next move.

You don’t hesitate. You grind down on him, both of you letting out low moans at the contact. The friction sends sparks flying up your spine, and you can already tell this is about to be the kind of reckless, dirty, no-going-back encounter you’ve both been craving.

Joel’s hands slide up your back, fisting in your hair as he pulls you down to feast on your neck. His lips trail down, biting at the sensitive skin there, and it’s too much, too intense. You feel like you’re going to combust right here in his arms.

“You taste so fuckin’ good,” he mutters against your skin, one hand slipping between you to push your panties aside, his fingers slipping through your slick heat again. “Filthy little slut, letting a stranger put his fingers inside you. Gonna make you come so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl.”

Your hips buck against him, the promise of release so close you can taste it. “Fuck, Joel, please…”

“Try again. You know better.” his tone is firm and commanding, all the previous playfulness gone.

“Please daddy, let me come”

“That’s it,” he groans, his thumb circling your clit with just the right amount of pressure, pushing you right to the edge. “Come for me, darlin’. Let me feel this tight little whole clench on my fingers.”

The way he says it with such authority, has you unraveling in his lap, your entire body trembling as you come hard against his hand. Your vision goes white, pleasure crashing over you in waves as you grip his shoulders, nails digging into his skin.

Joel watches you, his eyes hooded and hungry, soaking in every second of your release. He doesn’t stop moving his fingers until you’re shaking from the aftershocks, your body limp and boneless against him.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, his voice low and satisfied as he finally pulls his hand away, bringing his fingers to his lips to taste you. “Tastes even better than I imagined.”

You’re still catching your breath, head buzzing from the intensity, but the way his hardness presses against you makes it clear you’re far from done. It’s not like those other times when finishing a guy felt like an obligation, when the effort barely felt worth it because they didn’t take the time to get you there first. But Joel? Joel made you come so hard you can’t help but want to return the favor. It’s not a chore—it’s something you crave.

“My turn,” you murmur, fingers already working at the button of his jeans.

His grip tightens on your hips, eyes darkening as he watches your hands move, but there’s a flicker of restraint. “Don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart. Can’t have this beast of a truck just parked in the middle of the road.”

You shift back onto your own seat, lifting your leg off his lap to give yourself the space you need. The desire to make him feel just as wrecked as you burns in your chest, so you lean down, your gaze steady on his as your fingers trail lower.

“You can drive,” you say, voice low, teasing. “I’m not stopping you.”

Joel’s eyes flash with something dangerous, his jaw ticking like he’s fighting with himself. For a second, you think he’s going to tell you to stop, but then he huffs out a breath, shaking his head with a low chuckle. “You’re trouble.”

You smile up at him as you feel him start the engine again, your hand slipping lower, teasing him through his jeans.

Joel’s breath hitches as your fingers brush against him, a low growl vibrating in his chest. His hand tightens on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white as he tries to focus on the road, but you can tell he’s losing the battle.

His jaw clenches, a muscle ticking in his cheek as he tries to keep his cool, but you can see right through it. The way his body is responding to your touch, the way he’s barely holding it together, it only spurs you on.

You undo his jeans and pull the zipper down, feeling the heat radiating off him. His breath stutters, and his hand slips to grip the side of the seat, trying to ground himself as you free him from the confines of his jeans.

You wrap your hand around him, feeling how hard he is, how thick, and the groan that escapes his lips sends a thrill through you. “Fuck,” he breathes, eyes flicking between the road and you, his control slipping more by the second.

You lower your head, your lips grazing his tip, and Joel’s entire body tenses. His hips buck up, instinctively searching for more, and you can’t help but smirk as you take him deeper into your mouth.

“Holy shit,” he groans, his voice rough and ragged, his hand instinctively flying to the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. “You’re gonna get us both killed.”

But even as he says it, there’s no hint of him wanting you to stop. He keeps urging you on in slow, measured strokes. The tension in him is palpable, and you can feel the way his control is fraying with every flick of your tongue, every inch you take him deeper.

His breathing grows ragged, and he glances down at you, eyes dark with heat and disbelief. “You’re so pretty with a fat cock stuffed in your mouth baby, look at you ”

You hum around him, the vibration making his hips jerk again, and the low groan that rips from his throat sends a fresh wave of adrenaline coursing through you. He’s unraveling, right in front of you, and you’re loving every second of it.

You pick up the pace, your hand working him in tandem with your mouth, and Joel’s growl turns guttural, his grip on the wheel tightening. “Right there, darlin’ girl, don’t stop…” he hisses, head tipping back slightly as his hips move in time with your rhythm, chasing the release that’s so damn close.

His eyes flick between the road and you, pupils blown, struggling to stay on course even as his focus is being torn apart by you.

“Fuck, baby… I’m not gonna last if you keep—” He cuts himself off with a harsh groan, his hips bucking again, muscles taut and trembling as he loses the last shred of his composure. He’s completely at your mercy now, and it’s making him wild, his control slipping fast.

You don’t let up, your hand dropping lower to play with his balls, and he’s right on the edge, teetering dangerously close. His breath comes in ragged bursts, and his body tightens under you, his hips jerking harder, more desperate now.

“Where do you want it, baby?”

Instead of answering you take him deeper down your throat, your nose burrowing in the dark curls at the base of his cock, his smell so musky and intoxicating it makes you dizzy.

“Shit, shit—” Joel’s voice is a strangled growl, and then you feel him pulse in your mouth, a low, guttural moan tearing from his throat as he finally comes undone. He’s barely holding onto the wheel, the truck swerving just enough to make your heart race, but it’s clear he’s past caring. He spills hot and hard into your mouth, the sound of his release drowned out by the pounding of your own pulse in your ears.

You keep going, milking him for every last bit, until he’s trembling beneath you, his breathing ragged and uneven. When you finally pull away, he’s still gripping the steering wheel like it’s the only thing anchoring him to reality.

“Holy fuck,” he mutters, his voice rough and wrecked. His eyes flick down to you, wild and wide, before darting back to the road. He lets out a breathless, incredulous laugh, shaking his head. “Best hitchhiker I’ve ever picked up, that’s for damn sure.”

As if on cue, the truck finally pulls into the shop, the hum of the engine fading, the weight of what just happened still hung thick between you two. Joel cuts the ignition, his hand lingering on the key for a beat too long, like he wasn’t quite ready to step back into reality. He realizes his now soft cock is still out and starts to zip himself back up.

You try to gather yourself, smoothing your clothes and brushing a hand through your hair as if it’d erase everything that had gone down on that highway. You can tell it’s gonna stick with you for a good while longer though.

Joel clears his throat, glancing over at you with a look that was somehow both satisfied and conflicted. "Well, we’re here," he mutters, but his hand was already fishing in his back pocket for something. "Here." He hands you a crumpled business card, his name scrawled across it with a number underneath. "In case you run into any more car trouble or, y'know... anything else."

The corner of his mouth twitches, like he knows damn well this had nothing to do with the rugged old thing and everything to do with the heat still simmering between you. You take the card, trying to hide the smirk tugging at your lips.

"Thanks," you reply, pocketing it casually, though the way your heart raced gave you away. "For… you know, all of it."

He just gives you that signature look of his—half-smirk, half-smolder—and with that, you slide out of the truck, legs still feeling like jelly as you walked away. You didn't even need to turn around to know his eyes were glued to your retreating figure.

[uwurakax]

˖ ˳·˖ 𝓫𝓪𝓫𝔂, 𝓲'𝓶 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓽𝓸 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓽 ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪

♡ 𝓼𝔂𝓷𝓸𝓹𝓼𝓲𝓼 a surprise pregnancy throws you in for a loop when your rising star boyfriend starts to kick off his career. not wanting to hold him back, you leave without saying a word. six years later, fate brings you back together again, but with still sour feelings, how will you navigate keeping things civil all while all eyes are on him?

+ 𝓸𝓷𝓮 𝓈𝑜 𝓌𝒽𝑒𝓃 𝒾

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You stared at the two pink lines on the white plastic pregnancy test settled in your hands. A cheap thing for half price at the pharmacy on the corner a few train stations away from your local one. A detour from your regular commute home, you didn't want anyone who knew you to see your teenage contraband. Seventeen year olds shouldn't be buying things like this, the cultural and societal expectations looked down on these kinds of instances. A taboo subject, you didn't miss the way the cashier looked at you. The judgemental stare within their eyes said everything, and the large hoodie you wore, curtesy of your boyfriend leaving a few in your room after one of your nightly escapades, couldn't completely hide your school uniform skirt.

You're sure the way you snatched the paper bag and gave a dirty look didn't help with their impression of you, but honestly who the fuck cared at that point. This stranger didn't know you and they had the gall to look at you like that.

Well, fuck them too.

You scrunched up the bag, stuffing the item in your pocket. You were entirely grateful the hoodies front pocket was large, the box obscured from any passersby. Hidden in plain sight.

You made your way home quickly, knowing your mum would be home soon, and your impromptu trip to a store out of the way ate into the small window of time you had left. Luckily the train back didn't take long, and on autopilot you sped walked home, not caring for rushing nor pushing past any commuters that straggled. You were on a time crunch already, and the anxiety building within you was about to explode.

All week you had been feeling sick, a bucket nearby just in case you couldn't make it to the bathroom in time. It wasn't normal, why you were feeling the way you did, and you all but begged your parents not to take you to the doctors, convincing them that you just caught a bug and it would go away on its own. The more days you were sick, the more reluctant they became.

You were praying you ate something bad, or managed to get some flu from somewhere. Anything but this. You had an inkling though, even though you were just over half a week late. Something nagging in the back of your head to take the test.

You and Atsumu had been together for two years, and even if you were young in the eyes of the world, you did what teenage couples do and, well, explored things. It was only natural. First date, first kiss, first boyfriend. In a world of firsts with him, it only made sense, and so you did.

You had been dating for just over a year when it first happened. The night of your sixteenth birthday, your parents let you have a small gathering of your friends at home, trusting you to not let the house be a wreck as they visited your aunt 10 minutes away. They gave your space while still being a phone call away and could get home if you needed.

You remember having a lot of fun that night, watching movies, telling stories and hanging out in your lounge-room, stuffing your face full of the junk food your parents parted you with. Fast forward to 1am, and the last of your friends had gone home. All except Atsumu.

You weren't sure what it was, but something felt like it had shifted that night. Whether it was the way he looked around you, the way he held you, or kissed you, you didn't know, but one thing led to another and waking up next to him felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Now over a year and a half later you're here, sat on your tiled floor bathroom as the positive pregnancy test almost mocks you with the bright lines staring back at you. You tried to think about how this could happen, but it wasn't like this was a brain teaser. You weren't having the second coming of Christ himself, and of course things could happen. Even contraceptives weren't 100% effective against things like this but...

Why the fuck did this have to happen to you?!

Although you willed them not to, tears began to form in your eyes, stinging slightly. What were you going to do? How would you finish school? Your peers, your friends... Atsumu... They would blame you and it was your fault. How would you ever finish high school? Atsumu would surely break up with you. And, oh God, your parents. You didn't even know where to untangle that web. How disappointed they'd be in you, what they'd say and do. Your life was practically over before it even began. You started sobbing uncontrollably, clutching the test as if it was a saving grace, pleading to the universe that this wasn't real. That this was a bad dream.

Please...

Your thoughts were broken by the faint jingle and click of house keys. Your mum was home. You stood up, quickly glancing at the bathroom mirror. You looked like shit. Fuck.

You stuffed the test back in the hoodie as you heard your mum enter. Thinking quickly, you locked the bathroom door and turned the knob of the shower. You could hear her calling out to you as the rattle of her keys echoed. Her footsteps made their way towards the bathroom before stopping outside the door. Her gentle knocking contrasting against the harsh stream of water from the shower head, the steam fogging up the small space.

"Y-yeah mum, I'm in here just taking a shower." You prayed that the sound of the running water would disguise your wavering tone. She seemed to buy it, saying that she was going to make your favourite soup and to put your dirty clothes in the hamper.

After a moment of thought, you decided an actual shower wouldn't be the worst idea, and could hopefully clear your head from the nuclear bomb that had just exploded. You fiddled with the temperature, adjusting it until it was a tad hotter than what you would call comfortable and stood under the flow of the water.

You didn't know what you were going to do, but one thing for certain was that you at least had to tell Atsumu.

♡ masterlist || next

♡ 𝓽𝓪𝓰𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽 ( link here if you want to be added )

@snail-squasher @Maria_elizabeth21 @nocturne-cloud @bub-ss @bandolls @taeluvbott @zukki33 @nicerthanu @Tired_Entity @moonlightlexie @ushygushybaby @haikyuusunsalad @yyxy27 @jaynawayna @omb-lnn @angee444 @mrs-kodzuken @madi-8097 @mysteriousballer1na @from-mae @lilsebnem @itsdragonius @cosmicbreathe

[frownyalfred]

TRINITY STRIP CLUB?

I had some bits and pieces written for an outsider!POV fic of the Trinity going undercover of a strip club, but I think I scrapped it since I ended up going with a similar storyline for dead man's party.

(snippets below, unedited)

---

“Oh fuck. VIP in the big suite.” 

Amy set down her gatorade, swallowing quickly. “This late?”

Matt tilted the POS screen her way, showing her the time block. “They just grabbed the last two blocks for the night.” 

“Shit,” Amy said, biting her lip, “That’s pricey.” 

“Ask if they want any bottles,” Matt said, immediately switching to business mode, “Actually, don’t ask. Just bring in the champagne.” 

Amy made grabby hands until he stepped out of her way, letting her look at the screen. She thumbed through the schedule, frowning at the room reservation -- John Smith -- and the underlined note: Do not disturb. 

“Taking first dibs?” she asked, glancing at his sweat-soaked shorts critically. Matt stuck his tongue out at her. 

“They don’t care this late,” he said, “It’s all coming off, anyway.” 

Amy scanned the screen one last time -- three guests -- and snagged her serving tray off the counter, going off in search of champagne glasses. 

Matt, wisely, split off for the dressing rooms, likely to freshen up. He was wiping down with baby wipes in full view of the door when Amy passed by a few minutes later, a chilled bottle of Dom Pérignon carefully perched in an ice bucket on her tray. 

“Give ‘em hell,” he said, grinning lewdly. 

Amy made an unimpressed noise, heading for the stairs. 

(line break)

“Hello, welcome to Club Charlie. My name is Amy, I’m going to be your--”

Three heads shot up, staring at her in surprise. Years of training prevented Amy from immediately stopping in her tracks. She balanced the bucket off of her tray and onto the table, focusing on keeping her heels under her. 

“We didn’t order champagne.”

Amy looked up from the bucket, already reaching for the glasses. 

“Compliments of the…” she faltered, “...house, sir.” 

The man in the middle of the couch -- sunglasses, dress shirt open to the third button, broad shoulders -- didn’t seem amused. Delicate lips pressed together, highlighting their curve. 

“We also asked not to be disturbed,” he said. Not upset -- not really, the truly wealthy ones never did -- but on the road to it. “Miss…?”

“Bruce,” the man to his left said, interrupting before Amy could respond, “let her be.” 

He was just as broad-shouldered, wide blue eyes keeping just above her collarbone. On the table in front of him was an iPad and several notepads, half filled in with penciled diagrams. 

“We can drink champagne,” the third person -- a woman, in a deep red, one-shoulder dress -- said, leaning forward, “I will do the honors.” 

Amy handed off the champagne bottle to the woman, mouth slightly open. 

There had to be a convention in town. A convention for highly attractive, black-haired, blue eyed models. It was like staring at a movie star in real life. 

The woman smiled at Amy in thanky, digging a perfectly manicured finger through the foil of the bottle. Before she could offer the bottle opener, the 

“Holy fuck,” she said, stumbling back into the dressing room, “you need to get in there now.” 

“Are they rich?” Matt asked, looking up from where he was tweezing a hair from his upper thigh, “Please tell me they’re good tippers. I got absolutely fucked by that last DJ set.” 

“They’re models,” Amy said, breathless, “literal, actual, fucking works of art. I’ve never seen three more attractive people in my life.” 

“Bullshit,” Matt said, returning to his hair. 

“Seriously. Grab Leslie. There’s three of them.” 

---

“Two birds, one stone,” Sunglasses said under his breath, “I need to be here.” 

“You said you were available,” the younger man protested, “I didn’t think that meant you were at the strip club.” 

“You said it was urgent,” Sunglasses said, raising an eyebrow at his companion, “and I am available.” 

The woman gave Matt and Leslie an encouraging smile as they mounted the stage. 

“I don’t…” next to Sunglasses, the younger man wiped a hand across his face, “Lois is going to kill me.” 

“Lois would already have her wallet out,” Sunglasses muttered, “and you know it.” 

“Gah.” 

“See something you like, gorgeous?” Matt called to the woman, slinging a hand around the center pole. 

The woman’s sculpted eyebrows lifted, lips forming a perfect, cherry-red pout over her champagne flute. “Will you show me something I’ll like, μωρό?”

“Oh God,” the younger man said, glancing back and forth between the two of them, “This was a mistake.” 

Sunglasses glanced up at the stage, looking marginally more pleased than his companion, “Might as well enjoy it, boy scout.” 

“Enjoy it?” 

“More champagne, sir?” Amy asked, darting in with the fresh bottle. The younger man stared up at her in shock. God, his eyes were really fucking blue. She could get lost in those eyes. 

“I--um,” the man shoved it out at her, “Sure. Please. I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have --”

His reply was drowned out by the sound of Kim Petras blaring through the VIP suite speakers, marking the beginning of the set. 

[giddyfatherchris]

I'm in love with you!!

pairing. felix x gn!reader

type. best friends to lovers

warnings. none except pure undiluted fluff

a/n. fricking loved writing this, it made me miss summer so muuuch, but i had the greatest time while listening to these songs on replay😋 highly suggest to have them playing in the background while reading! or just give them a listen cuz they’re amazing hehe hope you enjoy!! xx

song recommendations. calm - cody simpson, im in love with you - the 1975, island in the sun - weezer, heavenly state of mind - lewis capaldi, the view - skz

"I like the view right now!" you chanted as the salty wind ruffled your hair and caressed your skin.

Your eight friends started hooting in agreement, all understanding the reference to one of your favorite songs of theirs.

As a celebration of their highly successful last tour, you had all decided to book a trip to a private island off the coast of Australia. It took a boat ride to reach the secluded piece of land filled with villas and populated with a few staff members. It was a paradisiac hideaway for you all, so accustomed to being surrounded all the time.

You turned back with a gigantic smile. Felix, who was standing behind you, mirrored the expression on your face, a certain twinkle illuminating his gaze.

You jumped in his arms, startling him as he caught you rapidly. "And I love going to the beach!"

He spun you around, feet digging in the sand while you both screamed. The rest of the group looked at you with amused expressions. By now, they had become quite accustomed to your antics. You ended your frivolous spinning by plopping down on the sand, slightly out of breath. You stretched your arms as far as you could, relishing in the stunning warmth of the Australian sun, and turned to cuddle against Felix, his nose already nuzzling in your hair. "I'm so happy to be back home, Lix." "So am I," he answered with a soft smile, his eyes half-closed.

After a day well spent outside, swimming and exploring, you had collectively decided to set up a cozy little camp on the beach to enjoy the warm night under a sky full of stars.

"Are you done, you two? We need help setting up!" shouted Changbin.

"I'm coming, you whiny child!"

You faked irritation with rolled eyes, but ever since you walked off the plane, you couldn't stop your lips from tilting upwards. Your soul seemed to be shouting and dancing to the rhythm of your home. Nothing could you get you down from your little cloud of happiness, even a whiny Changbin. You got up to lend him a hand before he started throwing a tantrum, not noticing Felix's hand still subtly reaching for you.

The young Australian looked at the stunning view. You were right. Being home felt amazing. It was wonderful to have some vacations after being on tour, especially here with you.

You had been friends for as long as he could remember.

From meeting in kindergarten to facing high school's adventures to growing into two young adults. You never had any big fights, your friendship having prevailed over any argument and hardship. Even the distance hadn't been enough to pull you apart.

Felix remembers too well the fear he felt before telling you he wanted to become an idol all those years ago. He was so scared you would disapprove and hate him for wanting to go so far away. But your anger only came from the fact that he had never said a thing about it. He remembers fondly how you jumped on him, hugging him tight with tears lining your eyes. From that moment on, you had been his fiercest supporter. You cried buckets when he left for Korea but made him promise to keep in touch every day. So you video chatted whenever he could. You stayed up with him for entire nights, braving the time difference to give him pointers on choreo stuff or to cheer him up when he had a rough day.

Until you no longer had to do any of that.

Looking at you now, getting along so well with his brothers, made his heart tighten with emotion. At 23 years old, he had everything he ever wanted. Well, almost everything

Felix knew since he was 14 years old that he loved you. Part of him had hoped that once he was in Korea, his heart would finally stop beating only for you, but it never happened. He had dated a little, but no one had compared to you. With time, he became accustomed to the idea of never falling in love with anyone else.

It was a thought he accepted without so much difficulty. He couldn't help how his heart started speeding up whenever you were close to him. The reassuring feeling of having you by his side. The way your smile made him see stars. The way you cuddled into his side or held his hand, how your gaze lit up whenever you saw the sea, and how he was the one you reached for when you were sad, angry, or just disgustingly happy. He wanted to experience everything with you, every high and every low. He couldn't and didn't want to imagine himself doing life with anyone else. It would be this or nothing else, and he was comfortable with that.

After all these years, he had never found the courage to tell you. The fear of losing you paralyzed him. But as he looked at the joyful sea, breathed the fresh Australian air, and looked at you laughing and fighting fiercely against an uncooperative beach chair, he thought maybe this vacation was the time. The time to face his fears, as he did almost seven years ago to chase his dream, and see where it would lead him.

"Felix!" called Changbin, interrupting his train of thought. "Come and walk with us! We want to see how far the beach goes in that direction."

He lifted his head with a smile, looking at his friends waiting for him, bare feet in the sand.

"Hurry!" you waved. "We don't want to miss the sunset!"

It had been months since he had seen you so excited, so eager. He knew you loved coming with them on tour. But he also knew Australia would always own your heart.

"Alright, alright. I'm coming!"

He swatted the sand away from his shorts before walking to your little group.

You started walking on the beach, Felix close to you. Seungmin, I.N, Hyunjin, and Changbin ahead, busy taking pictures in front of the rose-colored sunset. Bang Chan and Lee Know were trying to start your little fire while Han prepared the perfect playlist. Suddenly, you recognized the familiar air of their song, 'The View'. You looked back to Han with a huge smile. He simply winked and gave you a thumbs-up before focusing on his phone once more.

The notes of the music danced around you, making the ambiance even more special. There was something in the air, a prickling, exciting feeling.

You swayed gently to the music as Felix snapped a few pictures. The two oldest near the fire, Han next to the speaker, the boys walking ahead, the sunset. He seemed to be on a mission to commit everything to memory.

You felt his focus shift and noticed he subtly tried taking pictures of you. You walked up to him with a soft smile.

"Are you taking pictures of me, sir?" "I might be," he smiled back, his dimples on display. "Well, I'm afraid you need permission for that…" you continued, taking a step closer.

Without giving him a second to interpret your movement, you stole his phone with a squeal of victory.

"Come back here!" He protested, but you ran as fast as you could to Changbin, giving him the phone. As you expected, he sprinted in the opposite direction while laughing like a dolphin.

"You think you're funny or something?" asked a slightly out of breath Felix as he reached you.

"In fact, I do."

You splashed him and ran off while giggling like a maniac. As hoped, your antics started a generalized water war. Felix kept running after you, deciding he needed to get vengeance while the other boys splashed each other. You laughed wildly and ran in the shallow waters, not daring to look back and give him a chance to reach you.

You had water up to your knees by the time you heard him whine, "Wait! Y/n! You're gonna get all wet."

You turned around with a taunting look in your eyes. "Felix Lee, has the idol lifestyle gotten to you?" You gave him a pitying look. "Have you forgotten all about your Australian roots? Are you scared of a little water?"

A little taunting was usually all it took for you to rile up your best friend, and tonight would be no different. His eyes scrunched with determination, "Oh, you just wait till I get my hands on you." He tried threatening you, but you didn't give him a chance as you dove into the clear water.

Without a second thought, he jumped in after you, fully clothed. He barely broke the surface when you jumped on him from behind and tried to push him back underwater. He managed to take ahold of your wrists, careful not to clamp too hard. You took a deep breath, ready to be ducked under, but he softly made you twirl in the water. You gave him a surprised look as he winked and let you go benevolently.

Complete elation seized you as the beautiful young man looked at you with that smile of his, hair slicked back from the water, a light illuminating his soft eyes.

"I love Australia! I love the beach! I love being in the water! I love this night!!!" you screamed as you threw your arms in the air.

The other boys looked in your direction with giant smiles, drenched in water. The ever-present professional idol aura in their demeanor was nowhere in sight. They shone with pure happiness. For once, they could be only themselves, away from cameras and personas. Your heart sang with happiness for them.

"I love being home!" screamed Chan. "I love Australian BBQ!" added Changbin. "I love vacations!" said I.N "I love to splash Grandpa Chan!" joked Seungmin. "I love sunsets!" screamed Hyunjin. "I love water wars!" laughed Han. "I love cats!" finished Lee Know.

All eyes turned to Felix, the only one who hadn't said anything yet. His soft gaze set on you, the intensity taking the breath away from your lungs. He rallied his breath and screamed. "I LOVE YOU!"

The boys all went silent. You stared at him in disbelief.

"I love you. I love you so much. I always have, and I always will. Since we were kids, no one has ever meant the same to me. I love being here with you. I love being anywhere around the world with you. I love seeing you smile. I love the way you're so passionate. I- I don't want anyone else." It occurred to Felix that this was maybe not the right way to do this, as he noticed the silence surrounding him, but he kept going. "I know this is probably so out of pocket for you. You probably don't believe this is real, but I assure you it is. Since I was 14, I've been thinking of the right way to say this to you. I never thought it would happen like this but it feels right. So right, to finally tell you while you're at the place you love most and where I can see you shine brighter than ever."

You stared at him before a smile tugged at your lips, and you suddenly screamed. "I LOVE YOU!" He stood there with his arms limp at his side. Your words shocked him, and his mouth opened before he asked, "You love me?"

The light of disbelief shining in his eyes made your heart tighten. "Of course, I love you Lix. Honestly, I'm not sure how you didn't notice it," you added with a sheepish smile.

He took a step towards you, "You love me?" "Yes." Another. "You're sure?" you nodded with a bright smile. He was right in front of you, his arms a millimeter from wrapping around your body. "You love, love me?"

"OF COURSE I LOVE LOVE YOU. ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL." You leaped in his arms, water splashing around.

"SHE LOVES HIM!" Screamed the seven other boys in unison.

You smiled as you put your lips on his, barely registering the ruckus of your friends running for the two of you, throwing water around to celebrate the long-awaited moment you two idiots would realize you had been pinning for each other for years.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel’s Halloween Costumes

So, it’s almost October, which also means Halloween is coming up. Who or what do you think Billy would go as? I personally think he would go as Starlight, from The Boys. I think he would pull up in full cosplay, skirt and everything. Let’s say something wacky happens in Fawcett during Halloween too and the Ghost of Halloween pops out of nowhere and stars wreaking havoc and all of a sudden a superhero dressed as a fictional superhero raises their hands and electrocutes the ghost. I can also see Billy either knowing nothing about the show or actually having watched the show. Because if he hasn’t watched it would be funny, but if he has it would be hilarious, because I think Billy would fully go along with the ‘pretending to be in The Boys universe’ thing. (if you don’t know what I’m talking about, go to YouTube and go to the Vought International channel, click any of the vids, then go to the comments and you’ll see what I mean)

Like honestly, I can see an interview like this happening after he defeated the Ghost of Halloween:

Reporter: “Hello, fellow citizens of Fawcett, after our hero’s battle with the Ghost of Halloween, I’ve managed to snag an interview with him! So, Captain Marvel, it appears you’re dressed up for the holiday. Who are you?”

Marvel: “Oh, I’m Starlight, from The Boys.” *Gives a little smile and wave.*

Reporter: “May I ask why you picked her?” *Holds up microphone for Marvel.*

Marvel: “I picked her cause she’s my favorite character from the show, and she has lightning powers like me.” *holds a hand up and let a couple sparks dance around his fingers before putting his hand down* “i actually almost went as Stormfront, not show Stormfront though, comic Stormfront. And if you’ve read the comics or at least seen what he looks like, you’d notice that me and him look pretty alike.” (I’ll show a pic of him at the end) “He actually has a lot a my powers, of course on a smaller scale. But you see, sure, he has most of my powers, his suit also looks a lot like mine but of course, he’s a nazi. He’s literally weaker me if I wore more purple and had Captain Nazi’s personality. So… it was obviously an automatic no.”

(Bro doesn’t know this could get him canceled maybe)

And so yeah. I could see this happening. Also, he found out that he and Stargirl were twinning when he went up to the Watchtower to steal an entire box of Halloween themed cupcakes brought in by Canary. (he’s broke and doesn’t want to get an actual Halloween bucket because he knows the rats in his little hideaway will eat it all. The box holding the cupcakes might slow them down enough so that he can wake up before the rodents get to them)(Starlight is a parody of Stargirl apparently too)

Also, also, I think Freddy would dress up as Brightburn, and I think that every time someone would ask about it, Billy would say something along the lines of, “kids will be kids,” or “he’s being edgy,” or “he’s going through that phase.” As for Mary, I actually have no idea who’d she dress up as but for some reason my mind keeps going to Glitter Lucky or Glitter Peace from Glitter Force so let’s go with one of those. (I think it’d be more likely Glitter Peace cause she has lightning powers)

Also the photo:

[spenceragnewfics]

Could you do a sick fic? Where either spencerbor yn gets sick and the other takes care of them?

Sorry this is so short but I hope you enjoy!

SICK DAY | Spencer Agnew X F!Reader

TW: None I can think of 

Word Count: 663 

Description: Spencer hates being sick, but thankfully, he has Y/N to help him get better

Spencer HATES being sick. There was nothing more inconvenient than being sick, especially when you have his job. He has no idea how he got sick, everyone he’s been around has been healthy as far as he knew. It doesn’t change the fact that he is laid in bed, tissues all around, different cold medicines on his nightstand, and very congested Spencer.

Luckily, he has Y/N. The woman has been taking care of him all day. Making sure he had plenty of tissues, medication, and was comfortable. Also, she’s made sure he’s had no Kickstart.

“Y/N! I’m sick! I should be able to,” He’s cut off mid sentence as he coughs, “be able to drink whatever I want.” He whines, looking at his girlfriend with sad eyes. She doesn’t budge, “You need electrolytes and plenty of water. Not caffeine and buckets of sugar.”

Spencer rolls his eyes before coughing more. Y/N kisses his forehead then looks at him, “You’re not too hot. Do you feel cold?” He shakes his head, pulling the covers off of him.

Crawling into the bed, she leans against the headboard as she pulls him against her chest. He wraps his arms around her as she starts to play with his hair. “Wanna watch Star Wars? It always helps to watch your favorite movie while sick.” She says, looking at him. “Yeah, start from the first one?” He asks as she laughs. “Anything you want, Spence.” She says as she pulls up the first Star Wars movie.

About half-way through the third movie, Spencer is cuddled against her side in a deep sleep. Moving slowly, she moves him to lay down on his side as she gets off the bed.

Kissing the top of his head, she starts to clean up around the area. Picking up empty water bottles, making sure all the tissues are in the trash can, and checking the medicine to make sure he’s taking it like he needs to.

Once the area is clean, she goes to the kitchen to grab some Gatorade then heats up some chicken noodle she made earlier in the day. Walking back to their bedroom, she sets the food down on a table before walking over to him.

“Baby, I need you to wake up. It’s time to eat and take your meds.” She says gently as she shakes him. Spencer groans, not wanting to wake up as he cuddles Y/N’s pillow. The action makes her smile as she plays with his hair, “Please, it’ll make you feel better.” Leaning down, she kisses his cheek then eyes which wakes him up a little.

“Hey, sunshine.” She teases as his blue eyes open. “Hey, sunshine.” He says, voice full of sleep. “You need to eat and take your meds.” He groans before sitting up. She brings over the food, setting it in front of him.

Spencer eats then takes his medicine. Y/N sits there with him, making sure he’s doing what he needs before taking the stuff and walking back to the kitchen. When she gets back, Spencer is laying back down continuing where he fell asleep with the movie.

When he sees her, he opens his arms, wanting her to cuddle and who is she to deny a sick man’s request. She climbs back into bed and pulls him to her chest, getting in the potion they were before.

“Thank you for being my nurse.” He says against her chest, slowly starting to fall asleep again.

“It’s not a problem, especially when I’ve been able to keep you away from your phone all day so you can’t see any chaos.” She teases as his eyes widen. “Oh shit, I need to-”

“Nope, you are going to sleep. You can deal with any hypothetical chaos later.” She says, securing her arms around him. He doesn’t protest as the room goes quiet except for the sound of the movie. The couple falling asleep in each other’s arms.

[maginxlia]

Starring Tokyo Revengers Men In ✰ Drunk

Cast Line Up Bonten! Ran, Rindou, Haruchiyo, Mikey, Kakucho, Hajime and Current Shuji

Rated TV-MA

Minors This Isn’t For You

Summary ✰ Your Favorite Man Getting Drunk Off Your Kitty! Kitty making strong Men Weak!

No pronouns up in here but the Reader has a Kitty

Ran Haitani

✰ Your pussy has done something to the man, from the moment his tip push past your folds he feels his mind getting Hazy

✰ Your Pussy just made for him and he will never deny it

✰ His body shivering while you grip his dick so good his eyes roll in the back of his head

✰ He stays pussy drunk for days after fucking you

✰ His Mind stays filled with thoughts of getting drunk off your pussy, He can't even concentrate during Bonten Meetings

✰ “What did Kokonoi say again?” Ran asked Rindou while he stared into space,” What was your mind on that you couldn't pay attention to an entire fucking meeting? Rindou asked his brother face full of annoyance. “I was thinking of the way Y/N Pussy pulls me in deep when I'm fuc-” Ran says before getting cut off by Rindou, “ENOUGH! Stop running your damn mouth. Dammit.” Rindou says as he got up from his chair in a huff

✰ Ran doesn't care what others think he would scream from the rooftops about how good you make him feel and how hard you make him cum

Ran Laid on you as he fucked you. his thrusts were sloppy as he fucked into you with reckless abandon, “So tight” Ran slurred while his fingers messily toyed with your clit

“Pussy got me all messed up!” Ran groaned before kissing your shoulder to block his whimpers as you messed up his hair, “Pussy got Ran Haitani Weak” You teased as he pinched your nipples

Ran Main Concern was cumming as he fucked deep into you while groaning your name, your pussy was holding his dick tight with each stroke he gave making his body tremble against you. “I need to fuck you deeper, I need to cum deep in you” Ran grunted before sucking your neck

His dick dug deeper into you with every thrust as he fucked you with all the energy he had left “Fuck. Taking me so well” He whimpered as your pussy gripped him harder, “Gonna make me cum in that pretty pussy” he mumbled into your hair as he felt himself losing control

His fingers and dick pushed you over the edge as you came on his dick, “So fucking good” repeatedly fell from Ran's lips as came right after you. His Dick cumming into your velvety walls while his hips rolled trying to push himself even deeper

“Fuck. Baby, Got me all Delirious” Ran Groaned as he gave you a few more shaky thrusts before pulling out, “ So fucking good to me” Ran mumbled before wrapping his arms around you.

Rindou Haitani

✰ Rindou can't keep himself from becoming an incoherent mess when your pussy holds him so well and you moan his Name like a song

✰ Nothing Makes him drunker than when you keep riding him after he cums

✰ His eyes blown in lust as he watches his dick thrust in and out of you

✰ Your pussy making the younger Haitani lose his head and keep him in a daze for days

✰ His Body going through withdrawals when he's not able to fuck you

✰ Is addicted to you and he won't deny it, Got Him fucking you in his car to Hold him over until he's able to stretch that pussy properly

✰ Will finger and lick you until his hand cramp up & his tongue is numb

✰ You Got Sanzu eyeing him like who’s the addict now? But He doesn't care as long as he can keep his dick buried between those slick folds and Hear those pretty moans, He's in Heaven

Rindou's eyes studied the way your pussy creamed around his dick as you rode him silly, His Mind was long gone while a string of “Fucks” fell from his lips. He already came buckets in you twice tonight he was positive you were trying to milk him dry

“Pussy Got Rinnie Drunk I see” You teased as your hips rolled on him making him moan, “Fuck, can't even pull my thoughts together” Rindou whimpered as you bounced on him harder

You laid your hand on his chest while chasing your high, your head was thrown back as you rode his dick so good that Rindou had to grip the sheets with white knuckles. Your titties bouncing while your moans filled the room making Rindou's Thoughts all Jumbled

“Fucking This Dick so good” Rindou Groaned while thrusting up into you before holding your hips still,” Feel How deep I am In you right now? Grind on it” He commanded as he licked your right nipple

You Obeyed his orders as you rolled your hips in circles, his dick pressed against your G-spot making your eyes roll as you held his head to your chest. Ever so often Rindou would push his dick a little deeper in you while he kept his eyes close

It wasn't long before your pussy was clenching on him as your orgasm Graced you, Rindou could barely force a fuck past his lips while your pussy made him cum ropes deep inside you. “Fuck. Rinnie I can Feel every drop” You Tease making his face red while you continue to ride him

“Gonna Ride This Dick Until I feel like stopping” You moaned as Rindou whimpered incoherently under you

Haruchiyo Sanzu

✰ Deep in your pussy is where Haruchiyo wants to be for the rest of his days

✰ Your pussy just milks his dick so good, Making him tremble against your body as you take every drop he gives you

✰ His mind swimming for days after he gets done fucking you it doesn't help he fucks you whenever he can so he stuck in a loop of intoxicatedness

✰ “Fuck. Pretty pussy keeps my head swimming and my thoughts hazy” Haruchiyo groans as he pulls out of you

✰ Got him feeling your pussy on him when he's at work just driving him mad

✰ “The Fuck Wrong with Him?” Ran asked his brother while Haruchiyo daydream about fucking you, “Who The fuck knows! Just mind your business for once” Rindou says while rubbing his temples

✰ Haruchiyo is pleasantly drunk off you and he never wants to sober Again

Haruchiyo Fucked you deep into the soft Mattress of you two shared bed, “Fuck. Cum for me Again Baby. I know you want my cum deep in you” Haruchiyo said while his fingers pinched your clit making you squeeze down on him

“Yes. Drain me dry” He groaned while his pretty eyes looked down at you with his eyes blown from pleasure , “So fucking Gone. All I can think about is fucking this pussy till I can't anymore” Haruchiyo moaned into your ear as he raised your leg up to fuck you deeper

His Hips moved hard against your body as he fucked you rough and Needy, His fingers rubbing on your clit as his dick pounded your G-Spot Making you scream his name as his eyes rolled back “Fuck. Driving me insane” Haruchiyo grunted out as he chased his pleasure greedily

Your pussy held him tight as you came around on his dick making Haruchiyo collapse on top of you as his hips moved on their own trying to push his dick deeper into your soft walls, “ Feel That Babe?? That's me coming deep in that pussy of yours” Haruchiyo Groaned into your ear while he came deep into you

Haruchiyo didn't even Have the mind to free himself from you before rolling over so your head can lay on his chest, “ Just Gonna Let You Warm me tonight. Don't wanna waste a drop” He said while rubbing your back

Manjiro ‘Mikey’ Sano

✰ Manjiro would be lying if he said your pussy doesn't make him weak

✰ From the First thrust to the way you grip him when he's cumming deep in you got his body shivering

✰ His Mind is broken by you and he doesn't want it to be fixed

✰ You got him so drunk that he lose control while he in you trying to see how intoxicated he can get off of you

✰ Got Him fiending for you. Anytime or Anyplace he wants his dick buried deep in you so he can get his fix of you

✰“Gripping This Dick like it's your Job, Pussy got me delirious” Manjiro moans while he strokes you deep

✰ He needs you to Keep Him Pussy Drunk and Stupid

With Shaky Hands Manjiro Held your hips to pull you closer to him “Deeper. Need to feel every inch of you” Manjiro Whimpered in your ear as he fucked into you.

Your Pussy sucking in him deeper but it still wasn't enough for the male as he raised your hips off the mattress “ More. Need more” he whined while his body shivered against your own, Manjiro was quick to put his body weight on his left knee while his dick drove into you

Your moans and his incoherent whimpers filled the room as Manjiro got lost in the sensation of your pussy holding him tightly, Manjiro was so pussy drunk that he couldn't hold back tears from falling from his eyes “Taking This Dick so fucking Good with that tight pussy” Manjiro moaned into your ear before spanking your ass

He was Greedy as he pounded into you trying to get drunker than ever before, his hands holding your breasts to make you arch better for him as your pussy squeezed him so hard he thought he was going to forget his name

“Keep Squeezing me like that and I'm going to fill you with my cum” He growled as his hips drilled his dick deeper into you hitting that spot in you that make you say his name like you're singing

Manjiro Kept fucking you deep even while you were cumming on his dick, His thrusts became rougher as he chased his high as he painted your soft walls with his cum “ So fucking Beautiful filled with me” Manjiro moaned as he laid against your back while thrusting into you

“Let's stay like this for a moment hmmm?” Manjiro whisper in your ear as he tried to collect his thoughts

Kakucho

✰ Kakucho is Already Drunk In love with you but your pussy amplifies everything for him

✰ Will spend hours between your legs lapping at your pussy like you're his last meal

your Moans and Pussy Keep him Intoxicated more than any Liquor ever will

✰ Propping himself on his arms because your pussy got him so weak he can barely hold himself up

✰ You got his mind and Body weak but baby his spirit is more than willing to please you

✰ Rushing Home from work to fuck you, so he can overwhelm his senses with you

✰ Pussy Got Kakucho Roaming this streets with his thoughts on you and his mind numb

✰ He Rather Live His Life Drunk and Dumb than Go one day without Pleasuring you

Kakucho Studied your face as he fucked you towards your fourth orgasm of the night, his beautiful eyes filled with love as his dick found your G-spot with every stroke

“So Gorgeous under me making me weak” Kakucho Groaned as you bought your hands up to cup his face, “Kaku so Beautiful making me moan for him” You moaned as you raised your hips up to meet his thrusts

Kakucho wasted no time sucking on your left nipple while rubbing your clit so good your body shook, Your body rolling as your pussy pulsed around making Kakucho Groan around your nipple

He fucked into your pussy so well, blessing your pussy with each push of his hips. You both getting lost together in each other pleasure, You can tell by His Breathy moans that Kakucho was already intoxicated by you

His Lips founds yours as his thrusts became messier, Your pussy pulsating hard as your orgasm blessed you making Kakucho cum with you. “ So Beautiful” You moaned as you pushed his hair back while Kakucho Looked at you with hazy lust filled eyes

“Make me Feel so Good” Kakucho said before kissing your face and pulling you into a embrace

Hajime Kokonoi

✰ Poor Hajime Knows he will be dumb and drunk after his dick slides between your sweet folds

✰ “So Wet, So Soft, So Tight” Hajime Mumbles in your ear as he lay on top of you

✰ Clench On his dick while clawing his back up and will be putty in your hands

✰ Your pussy got Him whimpering as He fucks into you

✰ Got Him the Happiest Man around, you are the best kind of high and only he's able to experience it

✰ He gets so drunk off your pussy that he mutters what he will buy you while he fucks you deep

✰ If he said you're getting it he meant it! “What I said while I was in that delicious pussy I Meant. Now let's go shopping for that house I promised you” Hajime says while helping you put on your coat

Hajime's eyes were crazed as he fucked into you deep, each stroke making your toes curl and his body shiver

“Pussy so perfect, sweet and warm” He groaned as your pussy swallowed his dick so good he could cry, He couldn't help but press his body on yours while he fucked himself stupid with your pussy

He was so deep in your pussy that every single movement from you made him belligerent, “ Ahh Creaming so good on my dick” Hajime groaned. “ can't get deep enough inside you” He muttered while trying to push his dick deeper in you

Hajime rolled his hips as he relished the feeling of your pussy holding him in while he palmed your clit making your pussy throb around him “Baby. Feels so good around me” He moaned as he gave you those slow strokes that make you cum around him

“Gonna make me drop Millions on you,” Hajime said as your pussy worked his dick as you began cumming, your pussy gripping his orgasm from him. “ Milking dick so fuck well” Hajime moaned as his body jolted

He gave you a few shallow thrusts before holding you tight against him, “I N-Need to F-Find My mind baby, Just L-Let me hold you” he whimpered while rubbing circles into your skin

Shuji Hanma (Bonus)

✰ The quickest way to shut Shuji's Mouth is to lay that pussy on his face or on his dick and make him drunk

✰ Brain Goes dumb the moment he tastes you on his tongue

✰ Your Pussy alone is enough to make the Reaper stop his teasing and Beg for you to put that pussy on him

✰ “Let me slide it in.. Please. Promise I won't hurt ya, just let me fuck that pussy real good and slow” Shuji says while playing with your shirt

✰ He gasps Hard when he first enters you, pussy got him ready to bust on contact

✰ “Damn.” Shuji groans as your pussy embrace his inches effortlessly making his toes curl,” Gonna make me cum before I get the chance to properly fuck you. Let me catch my breath for a sec” Shuji Groans while he stays still in you

✰ Gets the worst “Hangover” when he's not fucking you and Getting drunk off your pussy, “I need to fuck you again Babe. Head not feeling right. Need to fuck you deep and dirty” Shuji whispers in your ear while grinding against you

“This Pussy All Mine” Shuji Groaned as fucked you on the floor of his studio, “No one can fuck you like I can A-And N-Nothing can make M-Me feel like you do” He grunted while gripping your thighs hard

“Pussy Got Hanma Stuttering? Wow.” You Giggled as your fingers tugged on his long hair while he fucked into you harder for your teasing remark, “Yeah Yeah. Pussy is Intoxicating But only I can get Drunk off you” Shuji groaned while pussy gripped him harder

Your pussy was so tight and wet it was driving him mad As he fucked you deeper with long strokes making you moan in his ear as his eyes rolled “Just like That Shu” You moaned while you toyed with your clit

The way your pussy was pulling him in was making him stupid As his words came out broken in your ear, his hips roughly snapped into yours while he fucked you down as both of you moaned together

Your pussy pulsing as you came hard on his dick making Shuji shake, “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” Shuji groaned as he filled your pussy with his cum. “Got my mind numb” Shuji grunted before pulling out of you

“ You Can't even drive us home, Brain just lost” You teased as Shuji Draped his Jacket over you two, “ Have to sleep it off here I guess” He said before pulling you onto his chest

Hotties on the Taglist ❤️‍🔥 @obitohno @earlmeow @lovelygeniegirl1012 @whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon @ransluvrboy @bakarilennox

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Please Don’t Steal My Shit

[drewsbuzzcut]

Deeper Than Oceans You Run, Watch As Our World Has Begun

Nick Moldenhauer x Dallas Blankenburg Moldenhauer

A so it goes blurb

Warnings: some insecurities and slight angst

Takes places during their honeymoon this summer

The full moon reflects on the darkened waves that lap at the couple. Nick and Dallas cling to each other, limbs tangled up in a perfect mess as they float.

Today marks one week into their blissful honeymoon. They’ve been having boozy, blistering fun on the white sand beaches in Tulum. They love being in love and being happy. There have been many endless kisses and bone chilling touches. Albeit the overwhelming rapture, Dallas can tell something’s wrong with Nick. Her husband has a faint furrow between his eyebrows and the corners of his lips don’t fully rise with his smile. Any other person wouldn’t even notice, but Nick is Dallas’ favorite worn in book. She can notice the slightest difference in anything he does.

“What’s wrong? You seemed down all day,” the girl pulls herself tighter into his chest and slides a hand into his curls.

“Just thinking a little too much,” Nick whispers, not able to meet her eyes.

“About what?” She asks, tilting his head up so he can look at her.

“Um… just about my future. In the nhl. I just- I don't know,” he mumbles and turns away despite his wife trying to keep his eyes on hers.

“Nicky, it’s all going to be okay,” she tries to reassure him.

“What if it’s not? What if I fail miserably, or what if I can’t be the player that I want to be?” Nick exasperates, eyes wide and his unshed tears glimmering in the moonlight. His voice is shaky and his chest is starting to heave.

“It’s going to be okay, baby. You’re a good hockey player and you never give up. You’re so committed to bettering yourself and that’s all that matters. Even if you do fail, I will be by your side, so unbelievably proud of you. I know you’re not going to fail, though. You’re Nick Moldenhauer, someone who has gone through a lot so early in their hockey career. You’ve had a lot of odds against you, but you’re here playing hockey for umich. You’re drafted and you’re going to be amazing,” she hums and wipes away the tear on his cheek.

“I just want to be able to take care of you, us, and our future family,” Nick admits, letting out a sigh when she nuzzles her nose into his cheek. Dallas softly traced over the scar on his jaw before pressing a soft kiss onto the raised skin. The girl feels a fluttery feeling grow in her heart at the thought of their future family.

“And you will be able to. If not, then I have no problem being your sugar mommy,” the girl jokes, trying to get a smile out of her husband.

“You’re my everything and the last person I want to let down,” he chokes out with a quivering lip. His words are pained, easily making her heart crack.

“You could never. I love you so much, Nicky,” she reassures him once again.

Dallas loops her arms around his shoulders and squeezes him tightly to her body. Heat builds where their soft skin touches, consoling Nick.

“I love you, June bug. I’m happy you’re my wife. It’s you and it’ll always be you,” he affirms and leans down to capture her lips in a kiss.

Dallas cups his cheeks, her legs wrapping around his waist as she gets lost in his lips. His tongue gently prods her lips open and explores her mouth as if it’s his first time. She loves that every time they kiss, it feels like the very first time. She gets filled with excitement, and she can feel it blossom in Nick with the way his fingers press into her skin.

“Want to help me tick something off of my bucket list?” Dallas asks, lips moving over his.

Her husband pulls away, watching her facial features and seeing the smirk that she can’t bother hiding.

“What is that?”

“Sex on the beach,” she rasps in his ear.

Nick doesn’t respond, he just pulls Dallas over his shoulder and carries her to shore. He can’t wait to see her fall apart under the stars and moon.

[bluntblade]

Realised that this never posted, but I stand by it:

It's really weird that Rogue One's aesthetic, which was specifically developed for a Star Wars film which had minimal space wizards and was instead about much more subdued characters and murkier moral themes, has now become the aesthetic which gets slathered over all new live-action Star Wars whether it fits or not.

If you step back, Rogue One isn't just very different to the Saga movies either side of it, it's pretty damn different to what came back, what with the modern war movie influences. It's working to portray how the Galaxy often feels outside the saga, and the visuals are part of that.

Mando mostly works with the same look because while there are some big personalities, they're almost all side characters, while the mains are stoic and reserved except for Grogu (who's the only wizard regular). Andor looks downright great, not least as much of it is shot on actual locations and on full sets.

But apply this to Ahsoka and Kenobi, and it rather cuts against the vibe they're going for. Space wizards, with their operatic cosmic conflicts and connection to a mystic energy, tend to want something a bit more heightened (which I think is an under-discussed problem in the PT which is very muted much of the time, and a major strength in the more stylised Empire and TLJ). The colours are muted, the angles mostly flat, and it ends up being at odds with the story being told.

To extend Kenobi some goodwill, lots of the latter seems to have come from the Volume. You keep seeing where the cinematographer wanted to crank a shot of Vader to be sharper and more impactful, but couldn't because the Volume doesn't permit that. Although I do think there are some baffling bits of blocking like in the chase and the first duel, the floaty shaky-cam is a generally poor look and really, Lucasfilm shouldn't lean so hard on the Volume (I mean, seriously guys, look at Monarch. That looks miles better than anything you've done on TV except for Andor.) But point is, they tried and ran into constraints.

Meanwhile Ahsoka seems exceedingly comfortable with both feet in Gordon Willis' metaphorical bucket of cement. The characters' energy levels are tamped way down from Rebels to match the muted presentation, and things often feel low-energy even just within the context of these shows. Even when the show steps into the World Between Worlds, an explicitly supernatural plane (or goes into Ahsoka's coma dream) there's no real change in look. Contrast the way that Empire employs that low shutter speed in the dark cave, while TLJ steps into something surreal complete with voiceover and an impossible CG camera move. In Ahsoka, though, there's little attempt to make the place feel otherworldly beyond how the scenery looks.

And these are largely missing a vital part of Rogue One's look, which is scale. Both Gareth Edwards and cinematographer Greig Fraser are great at portraying large-scale things in interesting ways, and that's something which will tend to get lost with a move to the small screen and the massive use of the Volume, without shots from locations or physical sets to balance it out and make spaces feel more real. Without that, the Mandoverse keeps feeling... rather pokey.

[coopigeoncoo]

The Space Between Stars

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin x Gender Neutral Reader

Rating: General Audiences

Tags: Smoking, Burglary, Home Invasion, First Meetings, Meet Ugly, Domestic Fluff

Written as part of @shibaraki's KOMOREBI Milestone Collab!

---

You thought your terrible day couldn't get any worse, but then you come home and accidentally interrupt a burglary in progress.

What follows is a series of questionable decisions you probably should have thought Twice about.

---

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

---

Continue reading below or follow the link to Ao3!

Today has been an awful day.

Not because any single, overwhelmingly bad thing had happened; you had just been worn down by a never ending gauntlet of unfortunate events.

Sometime during the night your phone cord had come unplugged and fully drained your phone battery, which meant that you woke up long after you had set your original and backup alarms to sound.  As a result, you didn't have time for breakfast and ended up just using mouthwash instead of stopping to fully brush your teeth, but even that time save wasn't enough to keep you from missing your usual train.  

You'd tripped on an uneven patch of sidewalk heading out to lunch and irreparably scuffed up the toes of your favorite dress shoes, and the presentation you had been working for the past two weeks to put together was somehow missing the last; and most integral, set of slides.  

The subsequent verbal lashing that your boss and, more embarrassingly, your boss's boss, had given you lasted so long you'd ended up missing the train.

Again.

And as you sought to pass the time waiting for the next train to arrive by messing around on your phone, you discovered that the person you'd been seriously flirting with on the online dating site had suddenly blocked you without notice.  

So when the skies opened up on your walk home, pouring down buckets of rain with such force that your skin stung from the impact, you comforted yourself with the knowledge that you could spend the rest of the day holed up in your apartment.  You'd slip into some pajamas, snuggle up on the couch with your favorite blanket, and veg out in front of the TV you had scrimped and saved to buy; doing your best to forget that today even happened while you yelled at quiz show contestants for chiming in with incorrect answers.  Perhaps you'd even go a step further and spend the commercial breaks on your phone, making wish lists full of products you'd never actually buy- letting yourself indulge in the fantasy of filling your overpriced and miniscule apartment with whatever gadgets and bits of decor that caught your interest.  

It wouldn't completely erase your misery, but it was the best you could do on a limited budget and exactly enough energy to shuffle from your bedroom to the living room after you peeled off your drenched work clothes.  

But your plans of relaxation were immediately foiled when you opened the door of your first floor apartment and were greeted by the sight of a man in a skintight black and white body suit trying to shove your brand new TV through your living room window; the bottom pane filled with with a spider web of cracks that spread even further with every heaving attempt to shove the flat-screen through the too small opening.  He froze when he noticed you, a cigarette dangling from his bottom lip as his scruffy jaw dropped open in surprise from your sudden appearance.  

"Uh- hello!" The man greeted with a nervous laugh, tugging the mask that was scrunched up on the top half of his face a little further down his nose, fumbling the corner of the TV slightly as he did so. "Don't freak out.  I can explain."

"Yeah?" You murmured distantly, thoughts frantically racing as you tried to process the entire scene playing out before you. 

Something in the man seemed to suddenly shift; his jaw clenching tightly and his shoulders pulling taut in a way that made your focus instantly sharpen- the same way all the animals in nature documentaries did when they finally realized a predator was in their midst.

"I'm stealing your TV."

And with that proclamation, your last frayed thread of patience snapped.

"Of course you are!" You laugh, frustrated tears welling up quickly and blurring your vision. "Why wouldn't you be?  It's not like my day could get any worse !"

"Hey, now- don't cry!" The man pleaded, thoughtlessly reaching out towards you with shaking hands, the TV nearly crashing to the floor as he released his hold on it; barely managing to catch the corner with a sharp curse and lower it gently to the floor.  "I'm not gonna hurt you or nothing- I'm just going to rob you a little !"

"A little? A little?" You shriek, wiping at your wet cheeks in frustration. "You're taking the most expensive thing I own!  That feels like an awful lot of robbing to me!"

"That's- that's a fair point," the man conceded, scratching at his exposed chin nervously as he looked around your bare bones apartment with a critical eye; taking note of your collection of second hand furniture and threadbare curtains your old roommate's cat had delighted in shredding.  

"I'm too tired to deal with this right now," you whimper as you take a step backwards into the breezeway, exhaustion winning out over more situationally appropriate emotions like absolute panic.  "Take whatever you want, but I would really appreciate it if you could leave the urn on the bookcase alone.  My Grandma is in there."

"I'd never-!" The man gasped, affronted by the implication he'd be despicable enough to make off with a jar full of Grandma dust.

"You're literally in the process of robbing me!" You laugh wetly, wiping your running nose onto your soaking wet sleeve.  "I don't think you're allowed to be offended by my assumptions about the quality of your character right now."

"I'm sorry. This isn't- this isn't the kind of person I want to be," the man whispered, his nervously wringing hands tightening into shaking fists. "This is who I have to be."

"Whatever," you huff dismissively.  "It doesn't really matter.  Close the window on your way out so the rain doesn't soak down to the floorboards."

"You gonna call the cops on me?" The man asked, nervously puffing on the cigarette in his mouth, the pungent clove smoke pulled towards you by the cross breeze; drifting straight into your face and making you recoil.  

"I don't live on the right side of the city for the police to care about a stolen TV," you inform him, grimacing at the tinkling sound of the buffeting rain upgrading into hailstones.  "I'm just going to duck into a store or something.  I'll be back in like, an hour, so it would be great if you could wrap up taking my stuff and be gone by then.  It's getting late and I still need to cook dinner."

And with those parting words you gently pulled the door closed behind you and, recognizing the futility of locking a door during an active home invasion; stepped back out into the freezing rain without looking back.

The only store on your block that had bothered to stay open in such terrible weather was a tiny holistic store crammed in between a pawn shop and a seafood market.  The shop owner, a serious faced woman with her hair slicked back into a painfully tight looking bun, did her best to cover up the pervasive fish odor that seeped in from the neighboring business by having three oil diffusers running all at once; but the only thing it really accomplished was adding nauseating strong floral notes to the briny air.  

You felt bad lingering in her store for so long without buying anything, so after a drawn out production of pretending to consider buying crystals in a variety of cuts and sizes while internally balking at the price tags, you settled on purchasing a mood ring from one of the clearance displays.  It had a large band size, too large for your fingers for sure, but it was the only thing that you could afford to purchase now that you'd have to start saving for a replacement TV. 

The woman behind the counter was obviously disappointed with your thriftiness, but you pretended to ignore her sourly pursed lips as she thanked you for your business and recommended you return at a later date to have your aura cleansed.

"It's all muddy, you know," she informed you with a disapproving huff, tugging firmly on the stiff collar of her dress shirt to shift it back into place.  "An aura that messy will only invite trouble and stress."

In your experience, trouble and stress never needed an invitation, but instead of voicing your thoughts you held your tongue, jammed the mood ring onto your thumb, and thanked her for the concern; snagging a business card in a show of false interest before bracing yourself for yet another slog through the rain.  

It wasn't coming down quite so hard anymore, but you were already so thoroughly drenched that the waning storm felt like a meaningless show of mercy from the universe at large; a waste of whatever finite karma you'd accrued during your life thus far.  

You'd boldly assumed that coming home to some guy stealing your TV would be the most surprising thing you'd walk in on today, but nothing could match the absolute astonishment you felt when you entered back into your apartment for the second time that evening.   

It had been easy to imagine that your place would be a ransacked disaster at this point, electronics long gone and your personal effects scattered around haphazardly as the intruder fruitlessly searched for valuables.  Instead, everything was in the same, or better, condition than you'd left it in.  

The TV had been returned to its proper place on your third-hand entertainment stand, a large scratch on the side of the frame but seemingly no worse for the wear as the weatherman on screen droned on about the unprecedentedly large storm rolling through the city.  The cracked window had been covered In layers of carefully placed packing tape to keep it from shattering completely; a towel spread out on the carpet beneath it to soak up the rainwater that had collected inside during the thief's botched getaway.

All the shoes in your entryway, the ones you normally kicked off and left where they landed, had been lined up in neat pairs next to the coat closet.  The blanket you'd left crumpled on your lumpy couch after a quick nap yesterday had been neatly draped over the back of the sofa.

And the thief, who you thought would be long gone by now, had made himself at home in your kitchenette.  With a set of mismatched hot pads on his hands he pulled a half sheet pan out of the countertop oven, the telltale aroma of baking bread filling every corner of your small apartment and driving out the lingering stench of cigarette smoke.  Desperately, you wondered if he'd noticed your arrival; cautiously rocking back onto your rear foot in preparation for making a quick escape when he called out to you from across the apartment.  

"Don't just stand in the doorway," the man chastised as he slid the hot tray down onto the stovetop, a small saucepan set to simmer on the next burner over.  "You'll let all the warm air out."

"Uh- yeah.  Of course.  Sorry," you apologized reflexively, wildly unsure about what to do but deciding that the best course of action is to likely play along and keep the burglar-turned-baker calm.  Pushing the door closed with a shaking hand, you did your best to keep your breathing calm and level despite the dread violently roiling in your belly; your sense of self preservation blaring in the back of your mind like a siren.  

"Welcome home.  Again," the thief greeted pleasantly, the toothpick in his mouth straining under the force of his clenched teeth. "You said you'd be gone for an hour."

"I- I ran out of stuff to do and figured you'd be gone by now.  And not, you know- staying to clean up my apartment."

"Yeah," the man laughed, rubbing at the back of his half-masked head nervously; hand still shoved into one of your plaid oven mitts.  "This isn't how these sorts of things usually go down."

"Then why did you do it?" You ask with a nervous swallow, the domestic setting making you bolder than the situation would typically dictate. "Stay, I mean?"

"It just- it seemed like you were having a really bad day," the man murmured sheepishly, pulling off the oven mitts one at a time and tossing them down onto a clear swath of counter next to the stove. "And I didn't want to make it any worse."

"Oh."

"This is- so awkward.  I'm sorry," he muttered, scrubbing a hand across the stubble on his chin in frustration.  "I wanted to be gone by the time you got back to avoid all of this."

"It's okay," you say, unsure as to how sincere you actually were.

"It's not okay," the man laughed dryly.  "I was going to rob you- picking up your living room doesn't make it okay!  It doesn't make me okay!"

"You could have done worse."

"I could have," the man nodded solemnly, the action switching to a frantic shaking a moment later. "I wouldn't have."

A realization struck you abruptly.  "Tell me a lie," you demanded.

"What?"

You wrench open the coat closet door and reach inside, pulling out a chunky blue scarf; a gift from a close friend during their brief but prolific crocheting phase. 

"Say this is red," you said, holding the scarf aloft for him to see.  He froze, every one of his muscles set on edge as he stared at the length of knotted yarn in your grasp. 

"I don't know what you're trying to prove here.  You already know that I can't."

"I just- I want to make sure," you insisted, holding the scarf up a fraction higher. "Please."

"Okay," the man said, deflating as he exhaled in defeat.  "The scarf is red.  It's obviously blue."

Emboldened by the first successful test of your hypothesis, you stepped further into the apartment, snagging a purple tissue box off of the coffee table with your free hand and holding it up for the man to see.

"And this?"

"Green.  It's purple."

Gliding further into your apartment, you deposited the scarf and the tissue box onto the card table you ate your meals at, and grabbed an overripe banana from the bowl of half-rotten fruit you kept replenishing each week; ever hopeful that you'd wake up one day with the self restraint necessary to reach for an apple instead of a bag of chips when you felt snacky. 

"This banana?"

"Teal.  Black- that's one nasty looking banana!"

"It is, isn't it?  I should probably just throw it out," you say with a grimace as your finger hits a soft spot on the peel and sinks down into the goey inner banana flesh. 

"Here, catch!" the man called out, tossing a slightly damp dish rag towards you, which you miraculously managed to snatch out of the air.

"Thank you."

"No problem."

It was quiet for a moment while you wiped the mealy banana goo from your finger, digging under your nail with the stiff corner of the towel.  "So you can't lie," you mused. "Is that a Quirk thing?"

"May as well be, I guess," the man sighed, turning to examine the squat loaf of bread cooling on your stove top.  "I want to go ahead and slice this.  You won't freak out if I grab a knife, will you?"

"Depends," you reply evasively with narrowed eyes as he pulled a knife half way out of the knife block, examining the edge with a frown before sliding it back into place.  "Do you plan on slicing me up, too?"

"These knives are so dull I don't think I could even if I wanted to," he groused, pulling another knife out for inspection with a dissatisfied frown. "And I don't want to."

Eyes locked on the intruder's back; you lowered yourself down carefully into the closest dining chair; knees weak and mind reeling from the surreal turn your evening had taken.  "So you don't want my stuff, and you don't want to hurt me- what exactly do you want?"

"What I want-," the man paused, a triumphant fist pump accompanying his discovery of a serrated blade.  "Is for you to try this bread that I made."

"And then you'll leave?"

"I'll leave right now if that's what you want," the man offered, running the scalloped edge across the craggy top crust of the bread and laughing delightedly at the scraping sound it made.  "Do you hear that?  That's one crispy crust!  This loaf is gonna be goooood."

"How did you even make bread, anyway?  I know for a fact that I don't have any yeast."

"You don't really have much of anything.  Believe me, I checked," the man grinned cheekily over his shoulder at you, as though he thought his confession about rifling through your apartment was  charming and not a blatant invasion of privacy.  "But lucky for you, I'm well versed in poverty meals.  Mix up a basic bread dough, add in a beer where the yeast should be, shove that baby into the oven and you're ready to go!  There's a bit more to it than that."

"Well, it smells wonderful.  This is probably the best this apartment has ever smelled."

"No kidding!  You get a discount for having the unit right above the dumpster?"

"I wish," You sighed forlornly, taking a moment to imagine how much easier your life would be with even a slightly lower cost of living.  "But taking out the trash is pretty convenient, I can just drop it in from the fire escape."

"Bowls?" He inquired as he shut the heat off under the saucepan, giving it one final stir.  

"Oh- I only have a couple.  They're probably on the drying rack."

He salutes you sharply before shuffling off to follow your instructions, carefully selecting and stacking the dishes into his arms like they were valuable pieces of china and not the very worst a home store clearance rack had to offer.  You twisted your too-big mood ring anxiously around your thumb, reminding yourself with every turn that the man in front of you, despite his seemingly affable nature, wasn't a guest.  He was an intruder in your home, no better than the mice that darted behind your fridge when you turned the kitchen light on in the middle of the night.

Although the mice had never cooked you dinner before, so you suppose that was a point in his favor.  

"Careful- careful," the man whispered quietly to himself, inching across the floor towards you with two bowls of soup balanced on his forearm; bracing the overhanging rims with a plate stacked lopsidedly with still steaming bread slices.  He gingerly deposited the bowls onto the table, sliding yours to a stop directly in front of you without any of the broth sloshing over the edge; an impressive feat considering that he'd filled it up to the brim. 

"Nailed it!" He crowed in pride, tossing the plate full of bread down onto the table unceremoniously, the thick slices nearly bouncing off the plate from his rough handling.  Collapsing into the folding chair opposite if you in what could only be described as a sprawl, you watch with thinly veiled interest as he pushes his mask up over the bridge of his nose.  Nostrils fully uncovered, he hunches over the bowl of soup and inhales deeply, flapping his hands to fan the aromatic vapors directly towards his face.

"Not too shabby for a can of soup and leftover veggies!"

"Is that what this is?" You ask curiously, giving the soup a small stir, trudging up a floret of seared broccoli that definitely came from takeout earlier in the week.  

"Don't be shy now.  Dig in!" The man encouraged, placing a large chunk of soup-drenched bread into his mouth with a happy sigh.  The soup was perfectly edible, nothing to write home about but still a notable effort considering the meager ingredients your kitchen had to offer.  But the bread was a different story entirely.

"This crust is incredible!" You gasp, the dry crumbs sticking to your lips.  

"A good dinner for a rainy night," the man stated, holding his half devoted bread slice out towards yours.  "Cheers?"

"Cheers!" You laugh, pushing your slice of bread against his; the crusts impacting and sending a dusting of flaky bread crumbs tumbling onto the surface of the table.

"Whoopsy-daisy!  I'll get that, don't worry," the man reassured you, licking his finger and tapping it across the table, picking up crumbs as he went.  

"'Whoopsy-daisy', huh?" You muse, sipping at a spoonful of soup thoughtfully. "How many kids do you have?"

"Kids? Oh, no- I don't- I don't have any of those," he stammered, shoving his crumb covered finger into his mouth and removing it with a comical pop.  "Her name's Himiko."

"That's…quite the discrepancy between those two answers."

"Himiko isn't- she's not mine, mine.   But she's mine, you know?  In all the ways that should matter."

"So you love her then?"

"Of course I do.  She's a great kid."

"That's all that matters then, isn't it?" You smiled sincerely, the first grin of the evening not strained through a filter of worry.  The man seemed to notice the subtle shift in your demeanor, the tension in his posture softening ever so slightly as he somehow managed to slouch even farther down in his seat.

It had been a long time since you'd eaten alone with someone.  You went out after work with colleagues sometimes, but the places that you always ended up were crowded and noisy; tables and booths crammed to near bursting to accommodate the ravenous waves of dinner rush patrons.  The last meal you'd eaten at home with someone was likely before you moved into this apartment, when you still lived off-campus with a couple of roommates you liked progressively less with each passing week.  

You'd been beyond thrilled to land a job that paid enough to allow you to live alone, even though affording to do so meant relocating across town to a less desirable zip code.  But a slight downgrade in living conditions was well worth the benefit of knowing you'd never again have to live through the experience of walking in on your roommate and their booty call having sex on your bed because it was 'more comfortable' than theirs. 

While you would never miss the stacks of unwashed dishes left to putrefy in the sink or having to wipe urine splatters off of the toilet seat before you could relieve yourself, it was hard to deal with the constant quiet sometimes.  The drone of the TV couldn't replace someone asking about your day or replicate the joy of shared laughter.  

And you couldn't help but wonder if it was a similar situation for the man across from you.  

"Is it okay for me to ask your name?" You murmur quietly, eyes locked on your own hands as you push a tomato chunk around your bowl with the back of your spoon.  "I understand if you don't want me to know.  The less I probably know about you the better, huh?  I'm sorry, that was stupid of me.  Forget I said anything-"

"Twice.  You should call me Twice," the man interrupted; letting out an irritated grunt before opening his mouth once more.  "I want you to call me Jin."

Thrown off balance once again by his contradictory requests, your brain races frantically to find some sort of middle ground between the two.

"Do you want me to call you Jin…twice?  Like, JinJin?"

"That's a little ah- intimate , dontcha' think?" Jin said, a nervous cough punctuating his sentence sharply.  He pulled the bottom edge of his mask down further, trying to cover up the tell-tale embarrassed burn of his cheeks without compromising his ability to eat.  "Just Jin is fine."

"Alright.  Thank you for the meal, Jin.  This is a much nicer dinner than I would have put together for myself, even if I hadn't been delayed by some guy breaking into my apartment," you joked, sending a pointed look Jin's way; politely averting your eyes and pretending not to notice his splotchy blush creeping even further down his cheeks.

"A burglar, huh?  Sounds like a real heel."

"Maybe," you murmured thoughtfully as you watched Jin try and cram an entire slice of bread into his mouth at once.  "But I don't think he's all that bad."

Jin, having gone back for a second serving of soup, was the last to finish eating.  You swooped in and grabbed his bowl before he could object, placing it on the counter as you waited for the sink to finish filling so you could begin washing the dishes. 

"You don't have to do that," Jin grumbled from his position behind you, standing close enough for you to feel him nervously shuffling from foot to foot.  "I can clean up after myself. "

"Nope, sorry.  It's the house rules," you sighed forlornly, acting as though you weren't the sole person responsible for making those rules.  "If you cook, you don't clean up."

"Is there anything else I could do?  Help you out a little more?"

"I guess you could help me dry?" You offer, scooting over slightly to make room for him in your tiny kitchen area. 

"Aye-aye, Captain!" Jin saluted as he slotted into place next to you, grabbing the dripping wet cup you offered out to him with one hand and picking up a dry dishrag with the other.  

The sounds of clinking cutlery and the slow but steady dripping of your faucet worked together with the rumbling storm outside to craft a peaceful atmosphere; one that helped soften the sharp edges of reality and allowed you to gloss over the fact that you were having a very pleasant time with the man who had started out the evening with the intention of robbing you blind.  

It was reckless and stupid, but you couldn't help but worry a little about what would happen to Jin once he left your apartment.  If he was desperate enough to resort to theft for some quick cash, you couldn't help but wonder and worry about what sort of life awaited him outside of the cramped comfort of your home.  

"Are you going to be okay?  Once you leave?" You ask, prying up a stubborn piece of dried food from the tines of a fork with your fingernail.  

"That's one heck of a loaded question!" Jin laughed sharply.  "The world is an absolute mess right now, society is on the brink of collapsing in on itself- I don't think anyone is going to be okay for a long, long time."

"Yeah, but- there's nothing I can do about any of that stuff," you sigh quietly, watching the small bubbles on the surface of the water swirl around your wrists.  "But I can help you, if you need it.  I probably have enough money to put you up at a hotel for the night.  Keep you out of the storm."

"You're too kind," Jin murmured quietly, his voice heavy with appreciation.  "But I don't want you to worry about me, okay?  Things are…difficult right now.  But it won't last forever."

"I wish I had your optimism."

"It's not optimism," Jin said, placing the last plate into the drying rack next to the sink and passing you the dish towel to wipe your hands on. 

"What is it then?" You asked, unable to fully dry your hands on the wet cloth, so you settled for simply wiping off the lingering film of bubbles from the back of your hands.  

"Experience,” he said, scratching thoughtlessly at the scruff growing unevenly across his exposed jaw.  “My life has always been- well, bad.  Mostly.  I used to really hate that.  Thought it wasn't fair.  But now I don't mind so much."

"Why not?"

"Well, eventually I realized that the bad times I went through made all the good things in my life seem even better," he said, turning his head to gaze out of your taped up window, as though he would be able to see the sky and not the moldering plaster exterior of the apartment complex next to yours. "Stars wouldn't be anything special if it wasn't for all that dark space between em', you know?"

You thought back on your day, on the series of disastrous events that had weighed you down soured your disposition, and how now; with the passage of time and the balm of Jin's companionship, the day didn't feel quite so dreadful in retrospect.

"I hope you saved room for dessert," you smiled, turning to riffle through a cabinet for the small package of cookies you kept tucked away for emergencies.

"Thanks, but I'm still full from dinner.  There's always room for a treat or two!"

The bag of cookies, already half empty from propping you up emotionally during the dramatic season finale of the show you'd binged last weekend, didn't last long.  But you and Jin did your best to stretch out the warm comfort of the evening as long as you could; chatting over the commercials as the emergency weather broadcast came to a conclusion.  

"Welcome back, viewers!" A man with slicked back hair and an unfortunate mustard colored blazer greeted as the title card for the incoming show disappeared from the screen.  "You're tuned in to 'Top 10 at 10', the show where we look back at the week's top moments from the Top Ranked Heroes!  Next up is the Winged Hero: Hawks, swooping in for a rescue-!"

"Ugh," you groan, patting the couch cushions around you in search of the remote.  "Is the controller over by you?  I want to change the channel."

"Nope, no controller," Jin said, his focus solely on the TV as the Number Two Hero crashed through a window on the top most floor of a burning apartment building. "So, you're not a Hawks fan I take it?"

"Hawks gives me weird vibes," you admit, lifting up a throw pillow to peer down into the space next to the arm of the sofa as Hawks waved casually on the screen, a shaking Pomeranian tucked securely under his arm as he floated to the ground.  "I don't trust people who always smile.  It feels like they're trying to hide something."

"You're a good judge of character, aren't you?" Had you been less focused on your frantic search for the remote you would have noticed Jin's uncomfortable fidgeting and repeatedly clenching fists, but you'd missed those telltale signs that preceded a shift in his personality.  So the sudden appearance of that voice, the brash one you'd grown accustomed to hear chiding and correcting Jin's half-truths, was unnerving.  You wondered how loud his unspoken thoughts must be for that second voice to feel the need to comment on Jin's internal dialogue.  

"I used to think so," you laugh dryly, the hand you'd been using to fish around in the couch coming up with a fistful of crumbs and an old tin of forgotten breath mints.  "But recent events definitely have me reevaluating that assumption about myself."

"You shouldn't-," Jin swallowed thickly, carefully considering his words; weighting them for sincerity lest he stray too far off the line of authenticity and unwittingly reveal too much.  "Don't make me be the reason you doubt yourself.  I'll take the blame for all sorts of stuff, but I don't want that to be on me, okay?"

"Okay," you whispered, once again fumbling to regain your emotional footing.  Talking with Jin was like walking across a messy room with your eyes closed, constantly tripping up and unsure of what caused you to even stumble in the first place. 

"I mean, if you can't trust yourself, then who can you trust?" Jin asked, his voice only just beneath a bellow and pulled thin at the edges; a manic sort of cry that poorly covered his underlying distress.  "I can't trust myself anymore!"

"You can’t?"

"No.  I- I broke that trust.  I broke myself."

Carefully, you lower yourself down on the cushion next to him; a vulnerable place for an unguarded moment.  "I know that it probably doesn't mean much of anything coming from me- we're pretty much strangers," you admit with a helpless sort of shrug, extending a hand out towards him like you would a cowering animal; slowly, carefully, like you half expected to be bitten for your trouble.  "But I trust you."

"You don't know me.  I don't even know if I'm me," he admits with a watery sniff, accepting your outstretched hand with his shaking fingers.

"This Jin, this you- ," you emphasize with a tight squeeze of your hand. "-is the only one I know.  And I happen to think he's pretty alright."

"Even for a bad guy?"

"You're the best bad guy I know," you assure him readily, the words somehow playful despite their sincerity.  But it seems like Jin was looking for a way out of the mire of introspection he'd waded into and quickly took the metaphorical hand you'd extended; lifting himself out of his head with a breathy chuckle.  

"I am pretty great, aren't I?"

"A terrible thief, but an excellent chef."

"Guess I missed my calling in life!" He grinned brightly, sucking up the bead of snot dripping from his nose.  

"It's never too late to change."

"It is for me."

You waited anxiously, almost desperately for that second voice to cry out in objection, but the room remained silent except for the canned laughter piping in through the TV speakers.  Whatever path Jin was on offered him no alternative, no deviation from the bumpy road beneath his feet.  

"Earlier, you told me that this isn't who you want to be.  That this is who you have to be."

"Who I need to be.  Who they need me to be."

"Will you do something for me?" You asked, easily sliding the mood ring off of your thumb and spinning it between the fingers of your free hand.  "One last favor and we'll call it even?"

"Of course," Jin nodded solemnly as his chest puffed up; proud to be entrusted with carrying out a task for you.

"When you have the chance, I want you to make the choice you want.  Be the Jin you want to be," you pleaded, sliding the mood ring easily onto his much larger pointer finger.  

"This like a promise ring or something?"

"I suppose," you hum thoughtfully. "But only if you promise."

He held the ring up in front of his face, watching the colors swirl and shift rapidly across the gleaming black stone; far more active than it had been on your own hand.  Jin clenched his fist, locking the ring onto his finger like he was scared it might tumble from his grasp and disappear into the unknown abyss alongside your remote, never to be seen again.  You couldn't see his eyes, only the expressive patterning on his mask that managed to contort with his fluctuating disposition, but there was a sudden weight upon your shoulders that let you know that you were the sole object of his intense focus.  

Jin lifted his ringed hand into the air between you, splaying his fingers wide in front of your face.  The dark, swirling gem of his ring glimmering merrily from the vicinity of your forehead, a third eye for Jin to take with him; an eye that would see him in the way he craved- as the Jin that existed solely in your gaze.  

"I promise."

The night, as all things, could not last forever.  But you were unprepared for the abrupt way that Jin threw himself up from the couch when the late night News broadcast cut to live coverage of a crime in progress; a patch-skinned man cackling in delight as he threw bright blue flames from the back of a speeding van at pursuing police vehicles.  

"That idiot, " he hissed, patting his sides and butt like he was checking for keys or a phone that were very obviously not tucked into his spandex suit.  "I have to go."

"Oh ,"  you manage to say through the clenching knot of dismay that had tied itself up in your chest.  “Will you come back?"

"I- I shouldn't," he whispered, regret palpable in every syllable.  "I want to."

Hastily, you stumbled to your feet and strode across the living room, grabbing the ceramic urn you had on prominent display before circling back and stopping directly in front of Jin. 

"Here,” you said, pushing the vase firmly into Jin's arms.  “Take this.”  

"For the last time, I'm not going to take your Grandma!" Jin cried in exasperation, pushing the floral patterned urn back into your arms. 

"Please," you snorted, lifting off the lid and pulling out a small plastic bag of gray ashes, shaking it back and forth in the air. "This isn't actual people powder.  It's a bunch of charcoal ash I grabbed from my neighbor's grill."

"Then why do you-?"

"I'm not totally naive," you said, hooking your hand on the rim of the urn and gently jostling it, the tell tale clinking of coins echoing from inside.  "Every burglar grabs a piggy bank, but very few think to check a jar of apparent human remains."

"I can't take your savings," Jin protested weakly, staring down longingly at the handfuls of bills scattered amongst the change.  "I'm not gonna steal from you."

"Of course you're not.  First of all, this is a gift ," you emphasize, pushing the urn more firmly against his chest.  "And second, this isn't for you."

"It's not?" Jin asked bewilderedly, twisting his head around to check if a second criminal had snuck into the apartment while he was distracted.

"Nope.  This is for Himiko," you explained, letting go of the vase and stepping back so Jin had no choice but to tighten his grip on the money jar or let it crash to the ground.  "Buy her something nice, okay?  And treat yourself while you’re at it."

"I- I will," he promised, unable to refuse your gesture if it meant securing some measure of comfort for Himiko.  Tucking the urn safely into the crook of his arm, Jin tugged his mask down; obscuring his face fully for the first time.  It was impressive how much that narrow swath of exposed skin had been carved into your memory in such a short span of time.  Even now, through the cover of a mask, you could still make out the small hints of Jin that lay beneath; the jut of his chin, the set of his jaw, the jittery way he clicked his teeth together.  

With a grace you wouldn't expect of a man his size, he slipped towards the patched up window, prying up the frame and squeezing an entire leg out onto your fire escape before he noticed your bewildered expression.

"What is it?  What's wrong?"

"You- you don't have to sneak out the window," you explained, pivoting your body to point towards the entryway.  "You can just use the door."

"Right!  The door!  Of course!" Jin laughed, smacking himself in the forehead as he pulled his leg back into your apartment, hopping clumsily on one foot until his appendage was fully free.  "Forgot that you had one of those."

"Well, I hope you don't forget again," you chastise playfully, guiding him out of your front door and into your apartment breezeway.  "Because I sure would appreciate it if you'd knock next time."

"Next time?" Jin asked, voice hitching hopefully at the invitation.

"Bye, Jin," you smiled, giving him a small wave as you slowly closed the door.  "See you later!"

"Right," he murmured, staring down at his fluctuating mood ring, a smile creeping along his face as white specks scattered across the dark blue stone; like stars glimmering brilliantly in the dark night sky. "Later."