#(i just wanted pizza it was before i remembered it's her birthday)

[rose-bookblood]

I randomly remembered January 28th is Evelyn’s birthday (I'm a terrible parent to my characters), so everyone say happy birthday to this loser:

[sitepathos]

From Gold to Mold

Chapter 1: The Change

“Happy birthday, to you,” your teacher, Mrs. Palmer, and classmates finish singing to you.

“Thank you, everyone,” you giggle, happy that everyone did something special for your birthday in the middle of class.

You’re now six-years-old and your Momma’s promised to take you to Little Luigi’s Pizza Place after school, where you’ll get to open your presents from her, as well as eat all the pizza you want and have a cookie pizza for free! You begged her to let you stay home, but she laughed and said that she had to meet her publisher for her upcoming book, but she promised that after she was done, she’d come check you out and the two of you would go celebrate your birthday.

You look up at the clock (good thing it’s digital, because you haven’t learned to read the old clocks yet!) and see that it’s almost time for lunch.

“Come on, Momma,” you mutter to yourself. “Get here, already.”

Seriously, you didn’t plan to eat lunch, so you didn’t bother packing lunch today!

Just then, the intercom above the door chimes.

“Mrs. Palmer,” the school secretary asks.

“Yes?”

“Can you please send Y/N Gould to the office, please? There’s someone here to see him.”

“Yes,” you cheer, making a few in the class laugh.

“Of course,” she responds before the device clicks off.

You grab your backpack and toss it over your back before rushing towards the door.

“Bye, Y/N,” one classmate says as you pass her.

“Happy birthday,” another says as you near the door.

“Enjoy your birthday, Y/N,” Mrs. Palmer says, her usual bright smile on her face. “We’ll see you tomorrow. Remember to have your worksheet done.”

And with that, you leave the room and skip down the hall to the main office, happy that your school is small so you don’t have to walk far. As you do, all you can think about is all the pizza you’re about to eat! And the chocolate chip cookie pizza that you get after that! And don’t forget about the presents! Maybe you’ll get the new Pokémon Platinum game for your DS, or a new stuffed animal, or maybe a new movie!

The suspense is practically tearing you apart and you enter the office, ready to greet your Momma when you see… Sheriff Foley. And he looks… sad. You look to the secretary, who’s standing behind him, and she has the same sad look.

“Y/N,” he says.

“Sheriff Foley,” you say, looking around to find Momma, but not finding her. “What’s wrong? Where’s Momma?”

“Son,” he says as the secretary begins to cry a bit. “I have some bad news.”

You feel a weird feeling in your stomach, like when you eat a bunch of ice cream and get sick, but this feeling is worse than that.

“What?”

“It’s about your momma. I got a call from the police in Vegas and they said there had been a car accident. Some drunk fool leaving a casino hit your mother’s car.”

You feel your heart stop at the words “hit” and “mother.”

“Is she ok,” you manage to say. “She’s at the hospital, right?”

The secretary’s crying becomes louder.

“I’m sorry, son,” he says, a tear falling from his eye. “He was going too fast when he hit her. She’s gone.”

��Gone? Like missing?” Now, you’re crying. “Why can’t they find her?”

“No, gone as in she’s no longer with us.”

“Like… she’s gone to heaven,” you whisper.

He nods and it’s then you feel your entire world collapse. You remember what Momma said about going to heaven when you saw a squirrel asleep on the side of the road. She’d said that he had gone to heaven after falling asleep and that he wouldn’t be waking up again. That he’d always be there.

“No,” you cry, tears and snot falling from your face. “No, she can’t be in heaven! She said she’d be here!”

Sheriff Foley takes you into his arms as you cry.

The next few days go by in a blur. You stay with Sheriff Foley and his wife until the funeral. Unfortunately, the accident was so bad that the casket had to stay closed, so you weren’t able to see her one last time before she’s put in her grave. The whole town of Goodsprings is there; she was an author writing best-selling romance novels set during the Age of Sail and a pillar of the community, so everyone wanted to be there to say their final goodbyes to her and their condolences to you.

You said nothing during the whole thing. You hadn’t said anything since Sheriff Foley told you that Momma had gone to heaven and that she wouldn’t be back. The only noise to leave you is the sound of crying.

“Y/N,” he says as you watch the grave be filled with dirt. “When we leave, we’ll have to go by your house. You need to pack anything you need.”

“Why,” you ask, your voice sore from crying for days.

“Because a man is waiting there for you and when you have everything you need, he’ll take you to McCarran Airport. From there, you’ll go to Gotham City in New Jersey.”

You couldn’t believe your ears, first you lose Momma and now you’re losing your home?

“Why do I have to leave,” you say, tears streaming down your face.

“Because the county did some checking and found your father through a DNA test.”

You freeze at that. Your Daddy?

“Momma, do I have a Daddy,” you asked her once.

“You do, baby, but he doesn’t know about you,” she answered. “We met years ago, back when Momma was young and dumb. When I found out I was having you, I couldn’t find him. That’s when I realized I had to act right.” She rubbed her hand through your hair. “It’s thanks to you that I’m not like that anymore.”

That conversation goes through your head as you ride back to your house. You’re actually going to meet your Daddy? When you pull up to your house you see a fancy car sitting in the driveway and an elderly man in a suit standing next to it, watching you as you get out.

“I’m sorry, who’re you,” Sheriff Foley asks.

“Alfred Pennyworth,” the man says, bowing a little. “Butler to the Wayne Family. I apologize, Sheriff, but I’m afraid Master Bruce was unable to get away. Urgent business at Wayne Enterprises demanded his attention.”

“More urgent than his son?”

You can see the butler slightly flinch at that, despite how good he tries to hide it.

“I understand your frustration. I expressed the same sentiments, but Master Bruce couldn’t be persuaded to leave the matter to Mr. Fox.” He looks down at you. “I trust this is young Master Y/N?”

You can’t help but duck behind the sheriff’s legs to hide from him.

“Yeah, this is him.”

“I’m glad to meet you, though I wish it was under more joyous circumstances. You have my most sincere condolences for your loss.”

“Thank you,” you say, looking down at the ground.

“Come on, son, let’s get all your stuff packed.”

The three of you spend the next hour packing all your toys and clothes into cardboard boxes. When asked about your bed, dresser, and other larger things, Alfred said a room had already been prepared for you with a king sized bed and a dresser with room for all your clothes and more.

“Should you require anything else, I will ensure Master Bruce provides it.”

“What will happen to the house,” you finally ask Sheriff Foley, afraid for what he would say.

“Your momma already paid off her house and her will said that everything that’s hers goes to you. For now, the county will care for it until you turn eighteen, which is when you can inherit it.”

Hearing that should’ve made you feel better, but it didn’t because you’d have to wait so long to come back and even then, Momma still wouldn’t be here. As the two adults packed up the last of the boxes in the fancy rental car, you slipped away into your Momma’s office at the back of the first story. You slide open the doors, expecting to see her at her desk, working on her latest story like you’d done so many times before, but this time, an empty room and silence greets you.

You enter her office and hop into the big revolving chair, her favorite perfume still lingering from the morning of your birthday. You look at the desk and find something that takes your breath away: her favorite gold ink pen. One day, you’d asked her why your last name was Gould and she’d told you that your family came from a long line of goldsmiths who once made jewelry and other small things for rich people. Momma’s Daddy still worked with metal, even after the family practice was shut down, and when she said she was going to become a writer, he made her a gold ink pen to bring her good luck. You pick it up, looking at the beautiful design, and begin to tear up.

She carried it everywhere she went, so seeing it here cements the fact that she’s not coming back. Maybe if she wasn’t in a big hurry that morning, she would’ve remembered to take it with her and the accident never would’ve happened. And she’d still be here with you.

“Y/N,” the Sheriff says as he enters the office. “We finished packing everything. Are you ready to go?”

You want to say no and refuse to leave, but you know that you can’t stay here. You quietly pocket the pen and follow him to the car, where Alfred waits for you.

“Alright, son, be good for Mr. Pennyworth here. Do what he says and be a good boy like your momma taught you.” He gives you a hug and you wish it would never end, because then you’d never have to leave your home. “You’ll be back before you know it, and your home will be here waiting for you.”

A with that, you get into the car with Mr. Pennyworth and begin the drive to the airport. You use the mirror to see your house one last time, seeing it get smaller and smaller until it’s out of sight.

“I know this is sudden after the loss of your mother, but I promise Master Bruce and I will do everything we can to make Wayne Manor a home for you.”

“What’s it like?”

“The manor? It’s a large estate with a long and storied history that dates back to the early days of Gotham. There’s plenty of rooms for you to explore.”

“And what about my Daddy? What’s he like?”

“Master Bruce is a skilled businessman and one of Gotham’s biggest socialites. He’s also the adoptive father of Masters Dick and Jason.”

“He already has kids? Would they be my brothers?”

You’d heard of several of your classmates having older and younger siblings and had thought about having a brother or a sister. What would it be like to carry around someone younger than you or be care for by someone older than you.

“Master Dick would be your older brother, but he’s now living at the manor right now. He’s off finding himself right now, but I have no doubt that he’ll be back one day.”

“What about Jason?”

Mr. Pennyworth frowns at your words and you feel afraid that you’ve said something wrong.

“Master Jason would be your older brother, as well, but he was taken from us. With any luck, he and your mother have met one another.”

Oh…

“When did he go to heaven?”

“He left us a few months ago, but it feels just like yesterday.”

And with that, the talk is over. You two arrive at the airport and after the butler returns the rental car, he guides you to the gate where a private jet awaits the two of you. You can’t help but be amazed that you’re riding in a private jet that looks so much better than the ones you’ve seen on tv. You sit in one of the seats and it’s way softer than your bed.

“Master Y/N, we’re getting ready for takeoff,” the butler says as he puts his seatbelt on. “Put your seatbelt on.”

You do as you’re told and before you know it, you feel the jet begin to move. You hurry to look out the window to see everything moving past before the jet begins to fly. You stare out the window, watching Nevada, the state you’ve called home, get smaller and smaller until you’re above the clouds, unable to see anything, even the massive buildings of the Strip, which could be seen for miles.

It’s then you realize that this is real, that you’re leaving everything you’ve ever known and won’t be back for years and tears begin to fall from your face. You’ve spent the last few days crying so much that you’d think that you’d think that you would run out of tears, but apparently not. Not wanting to disturb Mr. Pennyworth, you face the window and bite your lower lip to stop making noises.

Somehow the flight seemed to be both long lasting and not long enough, because eventually, you saw a city show up below you. You squint your eyes to get a better look through the smog and see many tall buildings, all of the having those scary stone creatures you saw on a movie once.

“Welcome to Gotham City, Master Y/N.”

A/N: I’m hoping to make this a series that sees somewhat regular updates, but don’t quote me on that. I’ve been getting back into Resident Evil and I look up Yandere Batfamily stuff on this site so much it’s not even funny. Sorry if the first chapter was so long, but I thought if the first chapter was long enough, people would forgive me if future chapters are a bit lacking. Also, this series is heavily influenced by several of my favorite users, like @acid-ixx , @gotham-daydreams , @luludeluluramblings , and @darkstaria . You should totally check them all out.

[tinytennisskirt]

Sweetheart

girl dad!patrick x babysitter!reader

summary: the growth of a mutual ‘crush’ between babysitter!reaser and the father of the little girl she babysits. problem is, he’s about fifteen years older than her and they get along a little too well. he has to remember fucking a twenty-year-old is wrong, no matter how much he might want to. no matter what other feelings might be involved… he just knows what he wants and it’s hard to ignore it when she feels the same way.

warnings: unedited from the notes app and i accidentally switched tenses so ignore that!!! and SMUT. tension. flirting. age gap, obvi! sex. sex. sex. rough.

babysitting for DILF! Patrick, his house is a little cluttered and messy but it’s his. He’s fixing his screen door when you come by, he’s got a nail clenched between his teeth, he’s not worried.

he thought you’d be younger, sixteen, maybe, but you’re twenty and a half, he deducts from asking about your birthday. he still thinks you’re gorgeous before he does the math, he’s a bit of a dirtbag that way…

tells you all about his daughter and what she likes to watch, what she likes to eat, says you can order pizza if you want and as long as she’s asleep by midnight, he’s happy. he’s more carefree than other parents you babysit for. you find your eyes resting on the muscle of his upper arm as he shows you around the house just so you can find your way. part of his introduction is just flirting, his face getting a little close to yours with that smirk of his.

you’re standing your ground and he likes that. he’s only half-aware of his intentions. asks again what your hourly rate is and when you tell him, he tacks four dollars onto it. you’re saying thank you, but he says he’ll be back by 1:30 and he’s out the door.

his daughter, dark curls and freckles is standing on the steps. she’s a happy girl, she’s polite and she’s smart, like- gifted smart. she’s silly and has hobbies of building cubes out of paper. she teaches you how and soon you’re in a pile of paper cubes.

she’s in bed by ten just because you asked her to be and she’s not fussy at all, just silly when she brushes her teeth. she has a good sense of humour and makes good references. as you tuck her into her pretty pink room with lots of books, she tells you she has ice cream in the freezer and that you’re welcome to it because she only pretends to like the flavour her dad buys her- eating it would help her out. she’s only six but her brain is amazing. you hope you see her again.

she goes to sleep and you turn off her lamp and slip out of her room. the hallway is dimly lit and you find yourself looking at the pictures on the wall. patrick was or is a tennis player, there are trophies on top of cabinets and old player photos. old player IDs and he was… hot. not that he wasn’t now, he was, but he was your age in these photos no doubt… came naturally to find him attractive. you continue down the hall and his daughter starts appearing in photos and he looks a little older but you’re noticing that there’s not a single photo of her mother.

it’s just them, you deduct. she’s not in any picture so she must not be in the

picture. you get the small tub of ice cream from the freezer and eat it on the couch, finding a show you’re fond of and watching it, finishing the small bit left, twirling the spoon around in your mouth.

you get up and look around the house a bit more. observing the clutter of books where his daughter sits on the couch, walking to where there’s a bit of sports equipment, tennis rackets, a few looking a bit… broken. smashed. you wondered if he broke them himself. your fingers traced over the pictures on the kitchen wall. he looks good without facial hair, you note, but you prefer him with. he looks like a great dad, the various photos of him and his daughter in various places, the beach, outside of a restaurant, pictures of her holding up his trophy while sitting on his shoulders. a duo for sure.

you wash your dishes in the sink and decide to maybe tidy up a bit, cleaning a few other things. you wipe down the counters and make the clutter into piles. you busy yourself until you hear the key in the lock. you’ve made the living room neat and tidy and you don’t know what to do when he comes in and he looks over everything. you just stand in the centre of the living room.

“she was really good,” you say, hand on your stomach. “she really likes broccoli, which i didn’t expect, but she showed me how to make paper cubes and she was in bed around ten, so i cleaned a little bit.”

he looked a little rustled, his shirt a little more wrinkled and his curls a little more all over. you assumed he’d had a good night out. he looked good, though. lucky woman, you were thinking. “yeah, i see.” he chuckled, setting his jacket down on the back of the couch.

you’re young and you’re shy and he can tell you’re nervous, “it’s okay? you don’t mind, i hope you don’t mind.”

“i don’t mind,” he grinned, pulling out his wallet, “it looks good, i never would have done it.” he steps closer, close to you, just in front of you, looking down at you. you’re under his gaze and he keeps eye contact with you as he pulls out his wallet and you’re a little taken aback by how intense it is. “i owe you how much?”

you state your old rate and he just grins, dimples on his face. the ones you only saw in his photos with his daughter. he smells like cigarettes and cologne. something about the way he looks at you makes you feel a little weak. your eyes fall on his hand as he flicks through bills, handing you about $60 more than you were owed. his bonus and a second bonus for the cleaning. “you don’t have to… i usually tidy up where i babysit.”

“well, i didn’t ask you to, nor did i expect it.” he says, grinning down at you. it’s smug and he smells good and he’s looking at you like you’re a meal and you kind of like it but he’s… an older guy. he has a daughter and she’s asleep and he’s tall and you are staring. he’s hot. he’s really hot and he’s looking back at you, “thank you. i’ll probably need you again in a week, are you free?”

you blink, “i’m free.” you tell him. “thank you… again. i really should be going.”

“do you need a ride home? she’s okay to be alone for a few minutes.” he’s still close, he’s still standing over you.

“thank you, but i’m okay. i just walked over, i listen to music there and back.”

“you’re sure? it’s late.” his grin is all consuming. you’re sure it’s stealing your thoughts as you continue to blank.

“i’m sure. thank you again. for everything.” you step past him and he turns with you as you go and slip on your shoes.

“thank you,” he says, shoving his wallet back into his pocket. “have a good night, alright?”

“i’ll try. goodnight mr. zweig,” you smile as you pull open the front door.

“patrick.”

“hm?”

“call me patrick.” he repeats, nodding.

“goodnight, patrick.” your smile grows into a grin and you slip out the door. he hates how he feels about you. you’re cute, he notes, but you had something about you. something he observed when he was handing you your pay that told you there was something more to you. more than nervousness and doe eyes and mid-length skirts. maybe not. but you’d be back here next week.

he heard how much his daughter liked you the next day. she rambled on and on about how pretty you were and how sweet and nice you were, how good your food was. patrick found it good to hear, the other babysitters often couldn’t handle her, but you seemed to with ease.

the next babysitting gig you were wearing a baby tee. a short sleeved, almost cropped t-shirt and jeans and you greeted him as mr.zweig again and this time he didn’t correct you. he told you to help yourself to anything in the fridge and that he’d be back around 1:00 this time. your bright eyes lingered on his hands, his forearms as he spoke, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. you couldn’t help it, he was gorgeous. and tall. he was very tall and very strong looking and maybe, just maybe it couldn’t hurt to have a small crush on him. only natural right?

he wasn’t oblivious. he saw the way you nodded when he was speaking. the way you fidgeted with the ring around your pinkie finger. you were gorgeous and you were sweet but you were young. too young. and he was going out on a date with a woman who was in fact, age appropriate. he wasn’t opposed to watching the way your hips moved or the way your ass looked when you went upstairs to find his daughter, but he was opposed to doing anything about it. you were a good treat. that was about all he could let himself think.

you had a good time with his daughter and once again put her to bed just a little earlier. 9:30. she didn’t mind, you did so much with her that she was right out. you swept, did some dishes, nothing too noticeable. you’re sprawled out on his couch when he gets back, you don’t even hear him come in. he nods, watching you watch tv for a minute before he makes himself known. he doesn’t want to startle you, so he jiggles the doorknob and pretends to shut the door so you wouldn’t know he’d been watching for a moment. you turn your head and sit up. “no rush,” patrick says with a smile. “how was she?”

“excellent.” you reply, sliding your hands down your thighs and onto your knees. “she’s amazing, i’ve never met any little girl so well-behaved and so smart. she’s very well-rounded. you did a great job.”

you almost made a grown man bashful. he smiled, looked at the wall, “she doesn’t get any of it from me. it’s all her mom.”

“oh… how long has it just been the two of you? i assumed… from the pictures.”

“her mom left a year in,” patrick replied.

“so it is from you.” you answered. “must be, who else?”

“must be.” he said, a bigger smile creeping up his face. “so you come over, watch a kid and flatter the parents, hm?”

“yes but only when i feel like it.”

“does it work?”

“with you, yes.” you were more bold, he noted. last time he’d made you nervous but he was standing just far enough away where you could hold your own. he wondered, stepping closer, if he could change that. he did the same thing as last time and stood over you while he went though his wallet for his money.

he hands the money to you, “that’s enough?”

you look at him with those wide eyes again, “mhm. yes. more than. thank you.” he was right, all it took was the close proximity to make you nervous. “you know i wasn’t trying to flatter you?”

“i’d prefer you pretend you were so i can pretend to hate it.” he chuckled, “thank you.”

“for?”

“she really likes you. you’re good with her. i’ll need you again in two days, are you free?” he smiles down at you. his eyes linger on your lips, slightly open. he found himself thinking impure things as he stared. he wouldn’t stop himself. there was no reason to stop himself. what a treat you were to have around, he reminds himself. such a pretty thing.

you smile at his ask, “i can be. i’ll text?”

“sounds good.” he nods. “need a ride home?”

“i’ll be okay.” you nodback. “thank you though.” you pick up your sweater and get your shoes on. you’re sweet, patrick wonders why you’re so okay with walking. it would cut the time to get home in more than half. aside from time alone with you, he does have a daughter and he would like it if you got home safe. “goodnight, mr. zweig.”

“patrick,” he corrects you again with that gorgeous, sly grin of his “please.”

“patrick.” you say, locking it in. but it feels wrong. too personal. “goodnight.”

“goodnight, Y/N.” he answers. your name on his tongue feels so strange to hear. you’re pressing your back to the door. god, he’s fucking hot. the other parents you’ve babysat for are very much so married and both balding, the boys your age weren’t so charming. this might be a problem, you developing a small crush… earlier it seemed fine, but faced with him. dear god.

you were back there a few days later and was patrick mistaken or was your short a little shorter? a tank top, completely reasonable for the heat, but it hit just above your belly button, just under if you weren’t moving. it’s not like it was inappropriate, if anything what was a babysitter if not hot? patrick remembered his babysitters from back when he was a kid and yeah, they were always hot and older and just out of reach. you fit the genre today expect not the older part. you were younger- much younger. at least your skirt was mid-length.

he looked at you, “you know my rules. that i really don’t have any and i’ll be back at 1:00, 1:30 latest.”

“leaving some room for a kiss goodbye,” you said under your breath. he caught that.

“something like that,” he smiled. if he didn’t know better, it was a pass at him for going out with women. it made him grin, in fact. it had some affect on you and you’d only seen him how many times?

you wouldn’t do anything, you knew that, but he seemed to look better and better every time you saw him. at first it was black polo t-shirts and jeans and he’d moved to long sleeved shirts with the sleeves rolled up and he smelled so fucking good, it was hard to ignore. you looked another way at his response, knowing he’d heard you, but what did it matter. could have meant anything… he could fire you if he thought you were bitter or judgemental.

his daughter was so excited to see you, she practically leapt into your arms. she was a thin girl, short in stature, it was no big deal. the perfect saved by the bell moment. “y/n!” she exlaimed. she was so happy to see you, it made patrick chuckle a little. you held her to your hip and something in him shifted just a little, seeing her resting in the crook of your hip like that. it flashed through him like a blast of heat and then it was gone. “you have to come see what i made today. a big cube!” she was so excited.

patrick shook off whatever the hell he just felt, snapping back to reality. “alright, honey, i’m heading out.” he told his daughter. he advanced a step to ruffle her braided hair. you wondered if he braided it himself… the thought was interrupted by his hand sliding over your waist just for a split second, enough for the leverage to kiss his daughter on the forehead. before you could think, his hand was gone and he stepped toward the door, grin on his face. “have fun. if you end up eating the ice cream, save me the last few bites.”

“okay!” she called to her father as he opened both doors, waving enthusiastically at her as he shut them behind himself. the second he was gone, she turned to you, “you’re eating it, not me.”

“deal,” you nodded at her. and you went upstairs to go see her big paper cube. You had her in bed at 9:30 again. you went to lay on the couch, kicking your feet up, your eyes settling on the picture of patrick on the wall. he was a good looking guy at your age. freshly shaved, not exactly baby-faced but compared to now, entirely baby-faced. you wondered what his type was, his daughter was such a little copy of him. she was a pretty little girl, long eyelashes and pigmented lips. her nose wasn’t exactly a button nose, but it was only a little bigger and it was perfectly proportionate.

you got up, looking at the pictures on the walls again. him, clean shaven, holding his daughter as a baby, big smile on his face. you smiled just a little at it. and the one of him holding her up in the air like she was simba from the lion king. she said her father helped her with the big cube… he was a good father. and she was lucky to have him.

you went and you got the tiny ice cream tub from the kitchen along with a spoon and you followed the pictures down the hall again. the pictures turned more to tennis memorabilia as you got closer to the end of the hall, where his room was. you found it really admirable that he never brought a woman back to the house. you stared at the door, just a little curious, but you weren’t that kind of person, so you continued to eat the ice cream and sat down on the couch again, snooping through his DVDs instead.

you left him about a cup and a half serving in the tub and watched pineapple express and thirty minutes or less and he came home at 1:05am. you turned, eyes meeting his before any words were spoken. he smiled just a little, “how was she?”

“perfect. you’re raising an angel, did you know that?”

“news to me,” he said, dropping his wallet and keys on the table by the door, adjusting his belt just a little. your eyes lingered on his hands. “here i thought i just had a daughter.”

“well, your daughter is an angel. she showed me her big paper cube, she’s very proud but she made sure you got your credit.” you said, moving your feet to the floor.

“i just held it together while she taped, she’s very authoritative when she needs to be.” he headed more into the house and you rose to your feet. “but she’s good with you. she likes you a lot, she doesn’t let me go a day without hearing about something you said or something you like.“

“ooh, and what do i like?” you said, moving around the couch to meet him on the other side. his hand was in his pocket, he grinned a little, that dimple on his face on full display.

“she says iced tea and chinchillas.”

“ooh, i do like those things.” you smiled a little. “she knows me.”

you were so peppy, he wasn’t one to want to get rid of that, but he was looking forward to his favourite part of the nights with you. he stepped forward, the same fashion as always, close to you. grabbed his wallet again, went through his bills. pretended not to notice the way you instinctively pushed your hair behind your ears. you were met with the scent of his cologne again. “she really does like you, you know. do you watch kids during the day? i have something to attend to on wednesday and i need you friday night. you’re free then?”

“i think so.” you nodded. “and i do watch kids during the day, i would love to come by and watch her, how long were you thinking?” your sentences lost their pep and spice at his closeness.

“i’ll let you know,” he nodded, handing you the money and meeting your eyes, sly grin on his face still. you were so pretty, all doe-eyed. “i paid you until 1:30, by the way,” he said, watching you eye the money in your hands. “to spare the thirty minutes kissing goodbye before i came home.”

you pressed your hand to your head, “i am sorry i said that, it’s not my place.” you were more apologetic than you’d been when he was several feet away the first time you thought it him.

he just grinned, knowing he made you feel bad for something he didn’t take to heart. “you were right. no shame in it.” he said. “how are you getting home?”

you uncovered your face, “bus today.”

“you know who rides the bus at 1 am?”

“me?”

“not tonight.” he said. “i’ll drive you.” he didn’t even ask this time. “c’mon.” he tossed his keys up and snatched them out of the air and it was hot. he was too hot. too hot to be in a car with for the ten minute drive.

you swallowed hard, grabbing your jacket and slipping out the front door, patrick locking it behind him. he had a camera outside his door, she’d only be alone asleep a little while. “you don’t have to drive me home, mr. zweig,” you spoke up once you were more than a few feet away. “i usually make it just fine on my own.”

“i’d feel better seeing you get home safely.” he said, opening the passenger door for you. you hadn’t thought him the type to. “you live with your parents?”

“no,” you said, getting in. his car was a little messy but it was mostly papers and an empty cigarette carton or two. you moved them to the back seat. “i have an apartment off aberdeen street.”

“mmm, yeah i know where that is.” he nodded, starting the car. “just want to see to it you get home alright. i haven’t been the best with it, but you’re the best babysitter we’ve met and i can’t have you going missing or see you in the obits.”

“morbid,” you noted, smiling. “i’m that good? is that your thing, babysitter comes over, watches your kid, and then you flatter the baby sitter?”

patrick grinned wide as he reversed, which was hot, his arm on the back of his seat as he did. “yeah, but only when i feel like it.” he rebutted. you smiled.

“and does it work?”

“you tell me,” he answered, your heart skipped a beat. he was probably the hottest man you’d ever seen in your life and you had to come to terms with that. you swallowed hard. he was good with callbacks.

you couldn’t even answer his question. you had to straighten out, recalibrate. he understood your silence. maybe he’d overstepped with that last one. “does she like tennis?” you asked him.

his smile got humble, “i tried. she’s not a sports girl.”

“that’s fair. neither am i.” you nodded. “tried, couldn’t.”

“also fair.” he chuckled. “so what kind of girl were you?”

“were or am?” you asked. he hated that he wanted to know so badly… he hated wanting to know anything about you, but he wanted everything. the image of his daughter resting on your hip flashed in his mind again. “i think more… writing. reading”

“anything good?”

the conversation continued, going over books and ones he skipped reading in highschool. that and tennis, his career. you were impressed. and he pulled into the lot of your building, putting the car in park.

“thank you for the ride,” you said, just a little desperate to get away from him. all the closeness and the conversation god he was so fucking hot. the car smelled like him and the cigarettes and you were just a little bit dazed.

he chuckled, watching you undo your seatbelt, his eyes on the exposed skin of your waist. “i’ll see you wednesday?”

“i still need a time,” you nodded, “but i’ll stay flexible.” you said, opening the car door. you could smirk when he wasn’t so close to you. he smiled back. “see you then. thank you again for the ride home.”

“you’re welcome, sweetheart,” he grinned. and he was evil. he knew it. he watched your expression struggle to stay the same, those pretty eyes wide. you smiled a little nervously, shutting the door and fully reacting once he couldn’t see you. you tried to compose yourself, but your body felt like it had burst into flames. you waved, going into your building as fast as you could. the entire ride up the elevator, you were thinking about it. replaying it, repeating his sentence in your own voice just completely thrown. it was a lot. sweetheart.

fuck. you took a cold shower but it wasn’t enough to keep your hand from diving between your legs. back arched, sweetheart echoing around your head. imagining those hands of his on your throat, wide, strong. he probably tasted like cigarettes and god, the thought of it was more than enough. it was only the first time of a few that night that you did the same thing.

the next morning you woke up feeling just a little confused, but he was the first thought in your head. and what was two more times before breakfast?

you got up eventually, grabbing your phone off the counter where you’d left in such a haste last night. you looked over the new messages in your phone,

was thinking 3-7, that work for you?

with freshly washed hands, you typed back

sounds good.

so casual. and you got there at 2:55pm on wednesday. patrick was dressed for tennis, leaving with his rackets. “you still play.” you said, looking at his things. “game day?”

he let you in, smiling, “practice. hi.” he noted your skort and tank top. more skin. “have you had lunch?”

“no, actually, i was just going to wait until dinner-“

“there’s hot dogs on the stove,” he said. “help yourself.” he seemed like he was in a rush, grabbing his water bottle. “and iced tea in the fridge. yours.” he said, grabbing his keys. he stopped in front of you, close to you, smile on his face. it clouded your thoughts a moment. “see you at seven.”

“see you,” you replied warily, blinking hard. he looked you up and down before leaving. you slowly made your way up the steps. it was a good thing his daughter was so happy to see you, you would have read into that.

she talked to you all about her drawings, showing you one of yourself. she was so sweet. she talked to you all about her drawing of her dad, her tennis rackets oddly detailed in crayon. you spent the afternoon together, you helped yourself to one of the cans of iced tea in the fridge.

patrick was back by four, just a little sweaty. you hated that. after last night’s sex imagery, seeing him all sweaty was a horny girl’s nightmare.

“dad!” his daughter greeted him by jumping up on him. he dropped his bag to pick her up. “me and y/n made hot dog people. come eat, come eat.” she said. you pressed your lips together to stop from smiling when patrick shot you a semi-confused look. he carried her into the kitchen, you grabbing your purse, getting ready to go. you had just finished making dinner, which you didn’t have to do, turning the hot dogs from lunch into a topping for the macaroni and cheese you’d made. that and broccoli. simple, something little miss picky eater would have.

“wow,” patrick nodded, looking at the hot dogs that had been cut strategically in person. he looked at you, sitting in the chair at the table with her on his knee. “you did all this?”

“all this?” you chuckled, “of course not, i had help.”

“i stirred,” his daughter nodded.

“very good.” patrick nodded. “think you’re going to be a chef?”

“maybe,” she said, a little sing-songy. “i’m

good at stirring.”

“she’s so good at stirring,” you nodded. patrick chuckled, eyes set on you. “i’ll get going.” you said, checking your purse for your phone. “you guys enjoy. i’ll be back tomorrow, so no need to pay me.”

“n- why don’t you stay for dinner? i didn’t hire you to make us food and run.”

“please!” his daughter leapt off his lap and pulled you to the chair. “eat!”

you smiled, “thank you. i really can’t though, i have to run! i’m so sorry, baby.” you crouched down to her height. she pouted. “if i didn’t have to go meet my mom, i’d be here eating our food, i promise.”

“your mom?”

“my mom came to visit me today, she’s at my apartment waiting. i’m so sorry, baby.” you said, wrapping your arms around her. patrick watched the way her arms wrapped around you too. she really, really liked you. “i’ll see you tomorrow night though. i’ll be here early, we can make dinner again and everything. whatever you want.”

“can we make pizza?”

“it’s a friday night, why not?” you smiled. it was cute. “i’ll bring the ingredients tomorrow.”

“yay!”

“yay is right.” you kissed her cheek and cupped her face just a little before standing up again. “you enjoy your hot dog people.” you said. you looked at patrick, who hadn’t seen you in action with his daughter yet. he was a little bit in awe. she loved you. it was more than a like. the other babysitters were tantrum material but you were an angel just the same as his daughter. he hated how he was thinking about you after something so pure, thinking about you. eyes lingering on your thighs, your waist. thinking about you, something so fucking paternal in him wanting you. it was dark. “i’ll see you both tomorrow.” you said, giving him a little look. it was cheeky. like you knew something.

“thank you,” patrick nodded.

you nodded back, waving bye to his daughter before slipping out the door. patrick would be lying if he didn’t give into himself that night. his hand pressed to the shower wall, hand pumping as the water poured over his body. he hated himself for it, but it was your image that pushed him over the edge. his daughter fast asleep, his thoughts were disgusting. he felt disgusting, it’s why he chose the shower. you were too young. and well he was a bit of a dirtbag, the age gap was enough to even throw himself off.

you, your little shirts and little skirts, the way you looked in jeans, the pout to your lips, your eyelashes, your eyes that screamed innocence when he got too close. fuck, it was dirty the way he thought about you. he thought about fucking you on that couch you were always on. the extent to which his mind went was so fucking wrong, so wrong, he reminded himself. he went to bed guilty. a grown man turned guilty.

patrick was glad he had a date the next night. someone to fuck his age to get you out of his head. he was never more glad for a sad date. his eyes fixated on you. “gonna let me in?” you smiled. he realized he was just standing in the doorway after you knocked. a near-bashful grin spread up his face, turning sly. “you know, you’re paying me by the hour and it’s 5 right now. you’re paying me to stand outside your door.”

he smirked, moving out of the way to let you in. he smelled good, date night cologne. you almost rolled your eyes. “i pay you enough for it, don’t i?”

you giggled a little, “true! i’ll go back out there if you want.”

he chuckled, fixing the cuffs of his sleeves. “i wouldn’t hate to see it. if you didn’t make a promise for pizza to little miss upstairs. all she’s talked about.”

“oh i love that, i’m so excited,” you said, putting the bag of ingredients on the table. “i was thinking of making you one too, are you a fan of pepperoni?”

“big fan,” he nodded. “olives too.” he looked into the bag of ingredients, pulling them out.

“you don’t have somewhere to be?” you asked, coming to help pull things out of the bag with him. “hot date?”

“something like that,” he answered a little monotone. “i’ll be back at one.” he nodded, backing away. you nodded back, following him to the door. god, he needed to leave for his date before your eyes got to him. your hand trailed the back of the couch, walking with him. “that’s okay?”

“you’re asking me?”

“you look like you’re about to tell me my curfew,” he replied, grabbing his wallet and keys.

you smirked just a little. your mind wandered down to his hands, the hand that had your waist just days before. your eyes met his, “oh yeah. come home when the streetlights come on?” you joked, that gorgeous smile his main focus.

he grinned, “i’ll try,” you were so cheeky, god he wanted to fuck that grin off your face, he had better be gone before he did. “have fun with the pizza, help yourself to the drinks in the fridge. she’s in the backyard.” he held his keys a little too tight in his hand.

your smirk stayed. he’d never been more glad to be going out as he drove over with your voice in his head. he ordered a drink as soon as he could.

your pizza night went well. it was good, delicious, even. she was a good little helper, obsessed with getting everything perfect on her dad’s pizza. you smiled. she slept early again, tired from all the pizza and karaoke and dancing. you were a little bit tired too. you hopped on that couch and you were out like a light.

you woke to patrick’s hand gently on your shoulder. you blinked a few times, rubbing your eyes. “oh my god, i fell asleep.”

“you’re okay,” he chuckled. “it’s a good couch for it.”

“great for it, apparently.” you nodded, sitting up. “i’m so sorry, that’s so irresponsible of me.”

“it’s late, it’s understandable.” he replied. “i’ll drive you home.”

you tilted your head, with a smile, “kicked out so fast. i’m so sorry for falling asleep on your couch, if i’d known it would ruin the way you see me, i would have never even sat on it.”

he chuckled, “okay, c’mon. i’m not kicking you out, i’m getting you home in one piece.”

“i appreciate it,” you smiled genuinely. “but i’ll be okay.”

“you were asleep about two minutes ago,” he said. “you’re not going home alone.”

you really couldn’t handle another ten minutes alone with him in his car. your hand was still cramping from the other day. he gestured the way of his car. “you had fun?”

“so much,” you told him. “she insisted on making your pizza ‘happy’ which took her about thirty minutes because the smile didn’t look right. your pizza is resting on the stove. she devoured hers and probably half a bag of mozzarella cheese.”

“she loves cheese,” he chuckled. “i’ll need you again tomorrow, is that okay?”

“tomorrow night?” you asked. you stepped closer to him, a twist of fate he didn’t expect as he grabbed his wallet. it was that time of night, but it was you who moved forward on him.

“tomorrow night,” he said. you fought the urge to ask if it was the same woman. it wasn’t your place to ask. he looked at you, the way you were looking up at him, so fucking perfect and so fucking… he felt his pants tighten at his growing erection. fuck. he hated that you had him like this. such a fucking grip on his mind, his emotions. it was so frustrating, beyond frustrating. “that’s okay with you? short notice.”

“i wasn’t busy.”

“you’re never busy.” he smiled a little. “you know most girls your age go to the bar. flirt. drink.”

“i’m not legal drinking age,” you reminded him. fuck, that was too true. couldn’t be more fucking true. you were only twenty. “i’m well aware of what girls my age do. i find the time between, believe me.”

he chuckled, “yeah?”

“yes. i do all of those things you mentioned and more. i’m a riot. a party girl. you know this money pays for my coke addiction.”

he held the door for you, grinning, “glad to be of service. you know how obsessed little miss upstairs is with the snow queen from narnia.”

you laughed, hand on your stomach. he kept his smile smug. “that’s good!” you laughed, leaning against his car. he locked the door and walked down the few steps. he stepped close, your laugh faded away as he reached around you to open the door for you. you were trapped between him and his arm and the car. you blinked a few times and he smirked as he walked to his side of the car and got in.

you got in with him, buckling up. fuck. he was good. you almost recovered from the close contact, he put a cigarette between his teeth as he backed out of the driveway. you thought that was hot. “you smoke?” he asked, pulling onto the road, lighting his cigarette.

“no.”

“mmm, good girl.” he said, blowing smoke out the window. he grinned to himself. if you weren’t wet before, you were now. your breath caught in your throat and you felt your cheeks and ears burn. fuck. fuck. fuck. it was all you could think about. good girl, he knew exactly what you wanted to hear and it was a good thing it was exactly his vocabulary. if he gave in right now he’d pull over and fuck you to pieces and you know what, you’d take it. you almost veered the car off the road yourself.

your throat was dry. your brain was screaming to kiss him at every red light. fuck him here in his car in the middle of the road and get dragged away only by cops with tasers and guns and batons. your whole body was hot, white hot, burning.

he just smiled to himself as he drove. he didn’t mind the silence, it had a good reason. it had flustered you so badly, you couldn’t crack any witty little cheeky jokes. he said goodnight and watched your ass as you walked inside.

the desperate need to get off was so wild you almost called an ex. like you were drunk on some strong alcohol his words reverberated around your brain it called for bad decisions and a need to fuck SOMETHING. like you were a creature, you needed something, someone inside of you now. it couldn’t be him, he was gone.

no, he was too old, it wasn’t because he’d gone home to his perfect, lovely daughter because he was a grown man with a six year old daughter and he was technically your employer and fucking him would be wrong. but it would feel so good. you had to resort to your own hands, sliding down into your underwear on your couch in your apartment. fingers rubbing your clit vigorously. you breathed hard, thinking about him fucking you in his shitty car on top of all the papers and cigarette cartons. fucking you so hard your head hit the car door repeatedly. he could have. if he had done anything to you after saying those two words, you would have let him do anything he fucking wanted to you.

you slept like a baby, knocked out after several rounds, enough to dull the need to be fucked to a low hum. he messaged you. before you went, though.

3-8?

perfect.

you replied short and sweet before passing out.

the next day you were back at his. he was in the driveway, you were just a little late. it wasn’t a big deal. he said goodbye, very friendly, very normal. you went inside and did various crafts and activities with his daughter, letting the good girl thing slip your mind.

he was back by eight. eight on the dot. talking about his mom being in town. you didn’t inquire. you had to meet some friends for ‘drinks’ at her place. you said goodbye to his daughter, smiling and telling her you’d see her soon. patrick thanked you for making chicken, paid you extra plus bonus for the pizza ingredients the other day. he didn’t seem like he really had this kind of money to be giving you, but you took it.

in taking everything else, you said goodnight and headed over to your friends house. had a can or two of a pre-mixed margarita, talked about things with your friends. it wasn’t until the conversation turned to something you needed to show them a picture of when you realized you didn’t have your phone. you looked around everywhere- your phone was expensive, you didn’t have the money for a new one. you got up and looked around and then it hit you. your phone was probably at patrick’s.

you didn’t have his number memorized. “do you need it?” your friend asked. “can you get it tomorrow?”

“i guess i could, but that’s my uber home and all of my cards are in the back, i wouldn’t have bus fare, i wouldn’t have- fuck.”

“just go honey, we’re not going anywhere!” your other friend chimed in. “i literally only have enough for you to get one bus, but get a transfer to come back?” none of them could drive impaired. or would. you shut your eyes. you hated the idea of showing up unannounced. but you took that bus fare. and you got on a bus over to patrick’s. you walked down his street trying to rehearse what stupid thing you’d say about this. forgetting your phone- like an absolute idiot. you had no idea where it even was but you came straight from there to your friends so it could be three places and the bus was not an option you could seek out.

you walked up the front steps and quietly knocked. you tucked your hair behind your ears and folded your arms over your chest. the evening air was chilly for a tank top and a skirt. it was a moment before he answered the door, it was around midnight so you knew he’d be up. or you hoped. it was stupid to even have come, but the margs were hitting just enough to screw up your decision making.

he was surprised to see you at the door. opened the screen door. “hey,” you said. “i’m so sorry about this, i’m so sorry- i know it’s late-“

“yeah- are you okay?” he asked, looking to see how you got there.

“i’m fine, i just… i think i forgot my phone here.” you said. it wasn’t the smoothest delivery. your eyes wandered down his body, eyeing his true build, hidden underneath those other shirts. the one he was currently in was tight, a black t-shirt. and sweatpants. he was muscular but it was all soft, soft features. one of those dad bods that bad definition not to pass as a true dad bod, but one still. holy fuck, this was a terrible idea. he grinned, running a hand through his hair as he leaned against the doorframe. “it’s so stupid, i know.”

“happens,” he chuckled. “you want to come in and look for it?”

“could i? i would be so quick,”

“i’m not in any rush,” he replied. “c’mon.” he stepped out of your way, holding the door as you came into the house. most of the lights were off aside from the adjustable dim ones in the kitchen. he turned on the lamp in the corner. “she’s with her grandma at the hotel tonight.” patrick said, starting to look around. you looked over at him. “is your ringer on?”

“i have it off when i’m with her,” you replied. patrick smiled. it was sweet. “fuck, i really am so sorry about this mr. zweig, i-“

“how many times before you call me patrick?”

“hm?”

“patrick.” he restated. “i’m not calling you ‘miss y/l/n’.”

“very true, i’m sorry sir,” you said, leaning in a little as you passed him, looking up on the mantle of the fireplace.

“that’s worse,” he chuckled.

“i think you like it.”

oh, it kicked into existence. hard. that fire you’d felt before lit up in his body. you were so smug when you thought you could be. it was all witty and teasing and the need to fuck that teasing smile off your face was back. you were too young, he reminded himself, watching you bend to look under the couch cushions. fuck, why did you have to be so…

the margaritas maybe made you a little bold. not too much, you were still you. he checked the table, looking around more for your phone. “what does it look like?”

your laugh from the other room was so pretty. “red!” you called back. red phone… red phone… patrick was so glad to be separated from you by a wall. he was hard just thinking about you. having you here was dangerous, his daughter away, nobody could stop him from doing what he wanted but himself. his morals. you were twenty years old. barely fucking legal. he was almost 20 years older than you. but you followed him into the kitchen, pretty doe eyes and pouty lips and worried eyebrows and he could have fucked you on the table when you looked at him. “nothing? again, i’m so sorry for coming in like this.”

“it’s fine,” his words were a little more forced than natural. “bright red?”

“dark red,” you replied.

“flashy?” he meant if it had anything to make it stand out.

“no sir.” you put your hands on your hips and turned around, looking on top of the microwave, behind the stove. anything. you and that tiny skirt, what the fuck was he supposed to do with himself? twenty, in a little skirt on the tips of your toes looking in high up places. the skin of your waist showing as you stretched, finding nothing. “fuck, it’s really nowhere.” you turned to patrick again, pressing a hand to the side of your face. “tell me you hid it and this is funny and that i didn’t drop my phone with all my cards on the bus on the way to my friend’s. i’m begging you.”

he shook his head, grimacing a little. but you were standing just below him, close to him. you looked up at him, observing his expressions while thinking this all over. you’d been so stressed you forgot patrick was hot as fuck. and it almost took you by surprise to snap back to reality here, where he was looking at you like there was something he wanted from you. it was extremely flustering, you blinked it off and went back to the living room to check again. patrick went down the hall and checked the bathroom.

“found it,” he called from the bathroom. you were glad this was over, you needed to get out of this house before the idea of being home alone with him sunk in. him in his tight black undershirt… him in his sweatpants, you tried and tried to ignore the print. he handed you your phone and you slid it into your purse.

“thank you so much,” you nodded, eyes meeting his. his eyes were dark. “again, i’m so sorry to disturb you this late and without warning.”

“anytime,” he was so excited to have you get the fuck out of his house. he watched your hips move as you walked out of the bathroom and down the hall. “where are you off to now?”

“i’ve got to go meet my friends again. i’m probably going to get the bus back, i have a transfer.” you showed him the little white slip of paper, your back pressed to his wall by the door. you looked him over, trying not to think about his ‘sweetheart’ and the way his ‘good girl’ lingered in your brain. you felt that fire ignite in your lower stomach. you had to say goodbye. and fast.

“let me drive you?” he offered. he didn’t know why. he’d probably crash the car. something about the night, something about the way you looked in this lamp light, the idea of being alone.

“i’ll be okay,” you said, stepping just a little closer and it wasn’t even voluntary. “it’s a short trip. a few stops.”

“remember what i said about the obits?” he tsked. “i’d rather see you here at my house than in that section of the newspaper, thanks.”

“here at your house?” you smiled. “it’s either die or be here at your house, i love that.”

“what can i say? i like you here.” he shrugged. you tilted your head. he cleared his throat, “you’re good with her.”

“so you’ve said.” you nodded. “thank you.”

“no problem, sweetheart. and i’m driving you.”

“you’re not driving me,” you replied.

“but i am. c’mon.” he picked up his keys.

“mr zweig,” you reasoned, pressing your hand to his chest. your heart beat hard in your chest as his choice of words. “i’m fine.”

it was getting harder and harder to remember why fucking a twenty year old felt so wrong. he looked down at you, your hand on his chest. mr. zweig, like it was the worst thing on earth but the hottest fucking thing to come out of anyone’s mouth. he looked at you, his chest rising and falling like his restraint was an exercise, like it was a fight. it might have been the hardest thing he’d ever had to do. your magnetic force was pulling him in and soon he’d have to chain himself to something so he didn’t do anything that’d get him in trouble. you were too fucking young. too young. too young.

you stared back. and the moment felt like forever. you could make it back alone but you weren’t sure if you candle heading back to your friends when you felt like this. that ache was back, the one that felt like drugs, like alcohol, like gambling, like the edge of an addiction, knowing the hook, the high is right there. your restraint was prettier, just a reminder that he wouldn’t. you’d let him, but he wouldn’t. it was more cut and dry to believe it was a crush and as much as you wanted him, he wouldn’t. for his daughter, for the sake of the springs on his bed, you hoped. you let out a breath between perfectly parted lips, shrinking into it.

he couldn’t. he wouldn’t. the problem was that he would. he would. he wanted to. he needed to. the second you were gone he’d go feel disgusting about it as he fucked violently into his hand, crude imagery plastered on the inside of his eyelids and he’d go to bed guilty and vile and disturbed. but you were right here and you weren’t gone yet. it was the same feeling, knowing you’d probably take the bus home just to find peace with a showerhead or even the fucking doorman of your building. you’d take anything at this very moment. what patrick wouldn’t give to have some trashy woman in his bed right now. he could call one of his dates up to fuck- he would have given so much to have been with one of them right now. because looking at you, he couldn’t… you were too pretty to be fucked by him, he’d ruin you. you were too young for him. too young and too pretty and too perfect.

he wouldn’t. you were fantasizing just looking at him. your body in flames, burning in a pit of lava, absolutely rolling in hot coals. you needed to stop. you needed cold water. ice water. liquid nitrogen. cryogenic freezing.

“i think you should go,” patrick managed. his voice was cold but not cold enough to cool you down. but he was right. you should go. the idea you’d leave was the same as believing it was all over and a guard was let down. you had the same feeling, moving just slightly to put your shoes back on, but only getting so far as an inch.

it was spontaneous and it was harsh, but it was insanely mutual, the way you kissed. you’d believed you’d get peace and that you could leave, no, wrong move. very wrong move. he kissed you with a force that pinned you to the wall, lust masking the impact of your head against the wall. hungry, starved, violent, he kissed you, hands on your waist, gripping hard as they moved down to your ass, squeezing, grabbing. fast, messy, sinful, his hands under your ass, he lifted you up against the wall.

it would have taken more than the jaws of life to pull the two of you apart. it was fast paced, like the both of you were in some sort of vicious caged battle, your arms around his neck, fingers curled right into his hair. you’d never been kissed or touched like this before. you were moaning from just the kiss and he swore the god he’d never been harder in his life. neither of you could wait, there was no time to just kiss, you weren’t teenagers, you weren’t patient or naive or curious, you were demanding, grabbing at each other like a lifeline.

he stepped off the wall, carrying you the best he could, too distracted to actually know which way his room was. he could have you on the couch, he was impatient, so were you. he let your feet down, your hands desperately clutching his shirt, pulling him down the hall as you kissed nonstop, breaking only for small breaths and for your shirts being stripped as you walked backward. his big hands cupped your face, pressing you against both sides of the hallway while your hands fumbled with the drawstring of his sweats. there was no time for any of this.

it was animalistic. it was the basic need, it was desperate. you crashed into his closed door and patrick swore to god he’d destroy anything in the way of him fucking you right now. he would have either kicked his door in or fucked you against it, no problem, but you reached behind you and opened his door so he didn’t have to do either of those things. he was blinded by lust, your hand down the front of his boxers within seconds of being in his room. you crashed backward onto his bed, crawling over him in your skirt, your hand stroking him up and down, but he had no need for it.

in seconds you were flipped onto your back and you were working together to kick your skirt and underwear off, gone to the same abyss his pants and boxers went. you were too young, patrick reminded himself as your bra came off. too young for him, too young, to pretty, too perfect to be fucked so hard by him. but he had you and there was no stopping him. it was a mistake, it was wrong, but there was nothing in his way as your hand slid down over his chest, following the trail of hair. he kissed your neck enough to make you cry out as his teeth followed his lips, leaving what would be nasty marks by morning.

your legs open, ready for him, he didn’t waste a single fucking second more, grabbing your hips and fucking into you. you swore to god you felt stars with how hard his first thrust was. he filled you to the brim, you weren’t sure you had any more space of all of him inside of you. you felt him stretch you out from the inside and you had no time to adjust to just how huge he was as he was instantly pounding into you. “good girl, taking all of it so perfectly,” he groaned. your nails were already in his back, desperately grabbing for something. your moans were loud and fucking pornographic. he wouldn’t have thought something like that could come from your pretty mouth. he wasn’t very considerate for your young, tight pussy as he thrusted into it with a violence only seen in the most gruesome of acts. he’d wanted to fuck women before, but he’d never needed to fuck someone so badly in his entire life. and it showed with the sheer force of which he fucked you. “you feel so fucking good.” he assured you with a decency that was not genuine whatsoever. it came from a place that disgusted even himself. you were only twenty…

“oh my god!” you exclaimed. you were sure he was actively bruising your cervix. it hurt so fucking badly but it felt too good for you to care. you saw stars, they spun and danced as your pleasure took over your entire body, legs wrapped around him, shaking already from the impact. skin on skin, loud as you both were, groaning, moaning, dirty little strings of words slipping from his mouth as he fucked you. “fuck me, fuck me- fuck!” you couldn’t help the noises you made, pathetic, reduced to just a moaning mess and a puddle of a girl who had only thought this was a violent crush.

“so wet for me, you wanted this so fucking bad, hm?” he taunted, evil grin on his face.

“uh-huh,” you sighed, hardly able to say the words. “s-so-“ you knew you had something to say but it was gone, erased repeatedly with every thrust into you. you’d have a witty response if it wasn’t for how good and all-consuming this was. “god-“

he fucked you with all of his pent up frustration, his hand sliding up the soft skin of your neck, pressing just gently, but enough. you were moaning loudly, the headboard hit the wall hard, and that hand on your neck moved to shove his fingers in your mouth. it was enough to make you into something even less, taking them in your mouth like you should. “so good for me, so pretty- fuck-“ he groaned, strong thrusts not faltering for a second. “this what you wanted?”

“m-mhm,” you said, pretty lips closed around his fingers, struggling to feel so much at once.

“so fucking perfect, guys your age fuck you this good?”

“god- fuck- no,” you moaned. he took his fingers away. he lifted your leg up, fucking into you with a new angle that spread goosebumps all down your skin. you were being fucked dumb- you were sure that you were forgetting your own name actively. losing yourself in this. patrick had never fucked anyone so hard in his life, feeling himself reach the furthest point inside of you over and over and over. “patrick-“

his name moaned from you gave him new momentum and you couldn’t help the constant warm rushes that ran over your body like pulses, like waves on a shore. your body was a solar system of exploding stars. the hands that travelled your body were sure to leave bruises on you by later… harsh and strong and not letting go, fingers in your flesh. it was only fair, your nails dug into his back, he was probably bleeding. “gonna come for me, sweetheart?” he said, grinning over his own groans. if he’d been anyone else the question would have been stupid, sex is never that good, but this was. no clitoral stimulation needed he was hitting every right spot in the right way. you felt it like a knot coming undone, like all the stars that were exploding were both imploding and exploding rapidly, like a blinking threat for the collapse of a universe. dramatic, an imperfect display and an unfair comparison but so fucking needed. you nodded hard, mouth open, breathing hard, kissing him when you could. it was messy, uncalculated, but so fucking perfect.

out of desperation, you lifted your hips the best you could to meet his harsh thrusts. needing to finish, needing this more than you’ve ever needed anything. you couldn’t help the grin that spread up your face, even in the heat of things. you won. he caved, you won. and he couldn’t fuck this smile off your face. you only held it as long as you cut put off finishing, the friction, the feeling building up to crash around you. it was full-body, felt entirely. your nails dug into him harder and he waited just another moment to spill into you. you felt it hot between your legs as he continued to pump in and out of you, so much cum that it seeped out before he could pull out. he didn’t think about anything but you, how wrapped up he was in this, how fucked he was. he’d lost to a pretty twenty year old. as if this was some sick game. you’d both gotten what you wanted, but the cost was greater.

it was the hardest orgasm you both had ever felt, both of your ears ringing, breathing heavily, feeling all of it. to the greatest extent possible. he pulled out and collapsed beside you, his back stinging as it hit the bed. your smile returned as you tried to catch your breath, the stars dancing out of sight slowly. “oh, i’m fucked,” patrick breathed, hand falling onto his chest.

you laughed breathily, “other way around.”

he chuckled over his harsh breathing, chest rising and falling deeply. he rubbed his face, but it couldn’t erase the fact he had sex with a controversially young woman. what was worse? the fact he had needed to fuck her so badly or the fact he didn’t feel any better about it afterward? or the surprise third thing that was the urge to keep you close?

“okay, listen-“ he said, propping himself up on his elbow turning your way, but you grabbed him by the jaw and pulled him into another kiss. a second kiss, with a different meaning than the first one. it was still hard to breathe but he didn’t mind, grin spreading up his face, a little sly, dimple showing. he felt a little less ashamed with this kiss in the way. it was different. oh he was soooo much more than fucked now.

taglist: @kaaaiiaaa @swetearss @xoxog0ssipg1rl @lalalandofive

[nickssidewitch]

Chris’s Dilemma

Chris Sturniolo has a little crush on one of his YouTube peers Layla, whom he’d only met once before. But what will happen when they finally meet once again to film an episode of the Cut The Cameras podcast?

Warning: SMUT, Sneaky sex, Dom!Chris x Sub!OC (named Layla), p in v, Oral (Male-Receiving), Dry-Humping/Grinding, Doggystyle, Missionary

(if you read this part already, please read Part 2 here)

***

“Get your hand off the fucking napkin holder, Chris,” Nick demanded as he grabbed the object out of his brother’s hands. He placed it onto the table next to him, now further from Chris’s reach. “What are we, kindergarteners?”

Chris stretched his body over his other brother Matt in some way to pick up the napkin holder again, but Matt shoved him from his body, causing Chris to sit back into his seat and cross his arms. He pouted comically, but neither Matt nor Nick were amused.

“Stop being annoying,” Nick said as he glared at Chris. They were all at a pizza shop which was pretty packed, and he didn’t want his pizza experience to be ruined by his pestering brother.

“He’s gonna make us get kicked out or something,” Matt added nonchalantly, taking a sip of his own Pepsi afterwards. “I don’t know why you can’t just sit down and relax for two minutes.”

“I can relax for two minutes,” he shifted his body to Matt and fixed his posture, “Three even.”

“Okay, well why don’t you?” Before Chris could protest, Matt continued, “Starting now.”

Nick smirked. “As if Chris could stay still for 30 seconds. Remember how he acted at Larri’s birthday party?”

Matt nodded and said, “Mind you, we were sober, but you acted like you were wasted off of six shots of tequila.”

“Okay, is it ‘Bash Chris Day’ or something? I can’t have a little fun?” Chris responded, rolling his eyes and still feigning a pout onto his lips childishly.

But Matt simply sighed. “Not at our expense, no.”

Nick scrolled through his phone for a bit before he exclaimed, “Ugh, she’s so pretty. I love her fit here,” he said as he pointed at his screen to the picture of one of her outfits.

Chris wiped his mouth and took a glimpse at Nick’s phone, but he was unable to see who Nick was referring to. “Who?”

Nick turned his phone to show his brothers the Instagram picture.

Matt’s eyes focused on the picture for a second before recognizing the familiar face. “Oh, Layla? Yeah. Aw, is that her kitty?”

“Layla?” Chris' eyes widened a bit before he sipped his drink. “We met her at Larri’s party, right?”

Matt nodded. “She’s so cool. And guess what?”

There was a pause that silenced the space before Chris furrowed his eyebrows. “I don’t like when you do that shit.”

Matt looked around confused. “What?”

Chris rolled his eyes. “Fucking say ‘guess what?’ and pause for an answer like we’re in a fucking episode of Dora The Explorer. Just say what you wanna say.” He took a bite of his pizza as he finished his statement, and Nick could be heard chuckling from across the table.

Matt rolled his own eyes before biting his slice. “Anyways” he moved swiftly on, “Layla DMed me the day after the party and said she plays Pokemon Go!, so she added me as a friend. She sent me a Gift and-”

“I deadass do not give a fuck about your game, bro.” He paused to take a sip of his drink. “But it’s cool that you guys hung out a little.”

Nick’s eyes looked over at Chris, and he noticed the hint of scarlet painted on his cheeks. He never said a word though, as not to make Chris feel pressured to say how he felt in front of the two of them. He knew how Chris was when it came to girls that he liked. He didn’t want Chris to run away from someone again. So, he pocketed any questions he had about the way Chris felt about Layla to bring up for another time privately.

Instead, Nick started a new conversation. “Guys, you know how we haven’t had a guest on the podcast in a while?” The other boys nodded. “Well, I have a few options of who we could ask. I mean, I hate asking people, but at least these people are our friends. So, if they say no, we don’t have to feel awkward about it.”

Chris nodded his head. “True.”

Nick looked down at his phone and started to swipe, searching through his Notes app to bring up his list of potential guests. “Okay, so we have Vinnie Hacker first. We met him earlier this year and he seemed pretty cool.”

Matt chuckled under his breath. “The internet would fucking freak if he did a video with us.”

Chris sipped his Pepsi and smirked. “Just imagine the 4 Italian Stallions of the internet collabing. Wild.” His smirk began to shift to a big smile, but he noticed the two pairs of judging eyes coming from his brothers.

“Please don’t call us ‘Italian Stallions’ ever again in your life,” Nick said as he sighed. He began to go through his options again, listing a couple more influencers and a few singers and rappers that they had known until Nick finally landed onto Layla’s name. “Aaand since we brought her up before, maybe Layla. She DMed me saying that if we ever wanted to collaborate, she would be up for it. And she seems like such a sweet girl. Very opinionated, which is a plus.”

“Of course that’s a plus for you,” Matt interrupted Nick.

Nick sucked his teeth. “Okay, whatever that means. Should I text her back and ask if she’s willing to join us for this week’s pod?”

The other brothers gave each other a look before nodding in agreement. She was a Youtuber just like them. Her content was relatively similar in terms of doing random vlogs and videos with her family and friends, with the addition of makeup tutorials, fashion hauls, and other things. She would be a perfect fit.

Nick smiled. “Okay! I’ll text her right now!”, he stated and got straight to texting Layla.

“I hope she says yes,” Matt said. “Who knows? Maybe we can become friends.”

“Yeah,” Chris replied a bit dully. “Maybe.”

He hoped.

***

The boys got home later that evening and went into their respective rooms. Matt played Fortnite, Nick decided to do some editing for their next Youtube video and some computer storage cleaning, and Chris… Well, he was pacing back and forth in his room. Why was he doing this? He was thinking about Layla.

As said before, he and his brothers met Layla at Larri’s party a few weeks ago. Larri was the one who pulled her over to them, giving them her introduction in her place. She looked over at Chris, giving him the prettiest, yet shyest smile. She hugged each of his brothers, and for some reason, the hug between the two of them seemed longer than theirs. He wondered if she had done that on purpose.

Their conversation was a pretty decent one. Very normal. Flowed smoothly. Something that Chris didn’t really expect from influencers in LA. Usually, everyone in LA is trying to outdo everyone else around them, asking them things about their lives that they could probably use as ammunition later on if their “friendships” were in peril. He hated that shit so much.

But with Layla, she just felt genuine. She seemed like she wasn’t the type of person to put herself on a pedestal. She just seemed normal. That night at the party, she talked to them about normal things like what she liked to do in her spare time and that she wasn’t necessarily a party person anyway. Chris learned she was a few years older than him, was from North Carolina (thank God, another East-Coaster, he thought to himself, relieved), had some siblings, and had a black and white cat named Knight. He remembers her pretty-sounding, delicate voice telling her, “I would let you meet him one day,” ending her statement with the cutest, shyest chuckle.

And Layla was fucking gorgeous, too. Her deep brown eyes were warm and inviting. He couldn’t stop looking into them the night they met. She had the cutest little button nose, pretty lips, and a great sense of style that he honestly envied.

She was just so perfect. He didn’t know much about her personally yet, but he was absolutely ready to learn more.

Actually, was he ready? If he was actually ready, he wouldn’t be pacing back and forth in his room the way he was now. His heart wouldn’t be pounding the way it was now. He wouldn’t be trying to script what to say to her in his head right now. Fuck…

***

There was a knock on Nick’s bedroom door.

Nick took his headphones off and rested them around his neck. “Yes?”

“Hey,” Chris said to Nick as he slowly creaked the door open. “I just,” he sighed and shook his head to ease himself a bit, “I can’t sleep.”

Nick’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t question Chris any further. “You can come sleep with me,” he suggested, noticing the anxiety in his brother’s face as Chris opened his bedroom door. They had slept in the same room before, so this wasn’t any weird to him. He shuffled to one side of his bed to make room for Chris, clearing off anything on that side and placing it on his nightstand. “What’s wrong?”

Chris sighed. “I don’t know. I know I’m a bit anxious, I just don’t know what’s making me feel that way.” He couldn’t look up at Nick; something made him feel too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

Nick looked over at Chris with a concerned expression. “Did something happen? Did someone say something to you?”

Chris shook his head and sighed.

“Good, because I would’ve kicked their ass.” He thought for a moment before continuing. “Is there something coming up that you’re nervous about?”

His brother seemed to jump at the last question, as if he was caught red-handed. “Well, kinda-sorta.” Chris brought his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, a sort of self-soothing gesture.

“Kinda-sorta?” Nick chuckled. “What is it? The meeting with Laura tomorrow morning?”

“No…” Chris’s face hid in his knees. “The other thing tomorrow…”

Nick sat for a moment to think before suddenly remembering recording a podcast episode with Layla on that day. “The podcast episode with Layla?”

Chris nodded, still hiding his face. “Mhm.”

“What? Why?” Before Chris even responded, Nick’s memories suddenly flashed back to the time at the pizza shop. Chris seemed so smitten by her being brought up. The way his face reddened, the way he tried to seem not as interested as he actually was- it all made sense. And now was the time he could ask him about it.

��Chris…” He threw one of his arms around Chris’s upper back and placed the hand onto his shoulder, “I feel like I know why you’re so nervous about that.”

Chris’s head jolted from between his knees, and he brought his eyes to look into Nick’s, his eyebrows furrowed in a mixture of embarrassment and frustration. “Yeah, I like her. A lot. Which is weird because I’ve only met her once. But, I don’t even know how to express that. Do I even like her?”

Nick rubbed Chris’s shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. You’re good. I understand what you’re saying.”

“You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” Chris said, sighing as he leaned into Nick’s body.

“No, I’m not.” Nick paused. “Well, kinda? But, that doesn’t mean what you’re feeling is invalid.”

Chris didn’t respond.

Nick continued, “Listen, you liking her after meeting her in-person once isn’t a bad or weird thing. It’s just the way you feel, which is valid and genuine. I personally wouldn’t say you’re ‘in love’ with her yet. It’s a crush. But, you just need to talk to her to get to know her more. Maybe that will help you assess your feelings better.”

“But, how?” Chris silently yelled, throwing his arms down onto the mattress in frustration. “I can’t just walk up to her tomorrow and be like, ‘Hey, I think I like you, but I don’t really know yet. Can I please get to know you so that I can get back to you with updates later?’”

An imaginary lightbulb went off in Nick’s head. “I have an idea.”

Chris sighed. “Like what?”

Nick became giddy over the plan he had and immediately went into details. “Okay, so she’s coming over tomorrow. How about I find some way to make you guys spend time together? Alone. Without me and Matt.”

Chris looked at Nick puzzled. “How would that happen? Wouldn’t that be awkward?”

“Not if the excuse is reasonable!” Nick grinned.

Chris chuckled. “And what’s the excuse you have in mind?”

Nick scratched the back of his head, chuckling nervously as he processed Chris’s question. “I… uh… haven’t come up with one yet. But, when it does come up, trust me, it will be great!”

“Y’know what, Nick?” Chris smirked. That’s not that dumb of an idea.”

Nick smiled back. “I would prefer a ‘Nick, you’re such a mastermind’, but I guess this suffices.”

“Suffices?”

Nick’s smile immediately dropped and he rolled his eyes. “Ugh, just go to bed.”

“You’re not gonna cuddle with me?” Chris asked, pouting and making grabby-hands like a child that needed physical affection from their parents.

“What is up with you and pouting lately? And no, I’m doing something on my computer. You’ll be okay.”

Chris sighed and turned to face the other side of the room. He curled himself into a comfortable position, and managed to fall asleep soundly. That talk with Nick definitely calmed him down a bit.

Nick looked over to his brother and smiled, rubbing Chris’s back as he felt him sleep soundly. Fuck, I gotta think of the plan…, he thought.

***

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

The sound of Layla’s alarm went off, and Layla awakened from her deep sleep, her hand reaching out to turn it off. Today was the day of her collaboration with the triplets, and she was not wasting any time to put herself together.

She quickly did her morning routine, using the best-looking products she had and wore her best makeup. She went to her closet and pulled out her best outfit. Her cat Knight walked over to his bag of food, as he usually did in the morning, which Layla knew was his signal to feed him. As soon as she walked over, he meowed and stared at her as she poured his food into his bowl. She looked down at him and the smile on her face went away as she realized she would have to be away from him for the day.

Layla lived alone after moving from South Carolina to LA, and usually she would have one of her LA friends watch him. Unfortunately, they were all pretty busy, so she didn’t have anyone. So, she thought of an idea. “Hey, Knighty. You wanna come with mommy to work?”

Knight looked up at her and meowed.

Layla pulled out her phone and facetimed Nick. After a few rings, he picked up the phone with a smile on his face. She could hear rustling and the clanging of metal in the background from Nick’s side.

“Oh, sorry about the noise. The washing machine is broken so we’re trying to fix it- Chris, no, don’t hammer the fucking outlet, are you dumb?!”

“It’s coming out of the wall!” Chris could be heard responding in the background.

“No, put the fucking hammer down!!” Nick could be seen leaving the frame of his camera, followed by a small slapping sound, which Layla could assume that he slapped Chris. “We don’t even need a hammer!”

Layla chuckled before Nick came back on frame. “Sorry about that, Layla. Chris was being a complete idiot,” he visibly rolled his eyes, “So what’s up?”

“Okay, so I have a bit of a problem…”

Nick’s eyes widened a bit. “Uh-oh, what’s wrong?”

“So I don’t have anyone to watch my cat, and I don’t wanna leave him alone. So…”

“OH MY GOD!” Matt’s face popped up on screen over Nick’s shoulder. “Please bring him over! I wanna meet him so bad… Please?”

His slightly whiny tone of voice amused Layla. “Only if all of you are fine with it. I don’t just wanna bring some random animal at your ho-”

“Please… I swear Chris is fine with it, right Chris?” He paused to look away from the camera, presumably to look at Chris for a response, then turned back to face the screen, “Yep, he’s okay with it! And I know Nick is, too.” Matt looked down at Nick, rubbing his shoulder slightly forcefully in a way to persuade him.

Nick swatted Matt’s hand from his shoulder. “Yes, you can bring him over. You didn’t have to ask, but thanks for doing it anyway. Some people would have a pet snake and just bring it over without asking like a weirdo.” He smiled at the screen.

Layla smiled back, “Thank you, guys. I'll be seeing you later!”

Then there was a loud thud. “Matt…” Nick’s eyes glared off-camera. “Anyways, see ya later, Layla!” He smiled and waved until the call ended.

Layla went on the rest of the morning thinking about what would happen later. She was so excited to see the boys again and get to know them. Especially Chris.

She first watched the brothers last year when she came across a compilation of their funny moments on Tiktok. They were so funny, and she could relate to them with so many opinions and ideas.

When she met the brothers for the first time at Larri’s party, they were so nice to her and had such a great vibe. But Chris was unique. He immediately stood out to her. His energy, his charisma, his pretty face, his smile, his style- they all made her melt. He even smelled so fucking good, despite the “stinky” jokes that his brothers teased him about all the time. She couldn’t wait to smell him again.

***

Layla finally made it to the boys’ house, and she texted them of her arrival. She stepped out of the Uber with Knight’s crate in her hand, and walked down their yard, where she finally saw Nick standing outside waiting for her. He smiled so brightly and immediately extended his arms for a hug.

“Oh my god, hey!!” He said as he hugged her. “How are you? You look great, by the way!”

Layla smiled. “Thank you so much! You look good too!” She replied. “I’ve been alright, work’s just been taking up some of my free time. But otherwise, things have been fine.”

He smiled. “Yeah, I know you edit all your videos, and I definitely know how exhausting that is. Unfortunately, those two don’t know how to fuckin’ edit”, he rolled his eyes playfully at the mention of his brothers before continuing, “And you’ve been traveling a lot too, so that’s double exhausting.” He chuckled, making her let out a small giggle in tandem. “Well, I won’t keep you standing outside in this heat for any longer.”

Standing like a proud magician introducing his opening act as he opened the house’s door, Nick exclaimed with the widest grin on his face, “And welcome to our humble abode!”

Layla put Knight’s cage down and looked up at the sight. It had a modern look to it, a monochrome color scheme, and little things of the boys’ that scattered in the living room and on the kitchen island. Their home was sweet and simple, but the real charm was the fact that she instantly felt safe there. Something about it, whether it was the smell of clean linen with a hint of cologne, or the little items that you could figure out which belonged to which sibling, or if it was the simple fact that it was owned by these three well-mannered men, Layla just instantly felt safe. And she could tell that her cat felt this same security as well, as he had made a straight B-line to their couch as soon as she opened his cage, laying on one of the throw pillows and getting himself comfortable as if he were at his own home.

It was something about Layla’s presence that made Chris feel safe as well. He didn’t know her for a long time, of course. It was weird, but it just felt normal. She felt normal. She wasn’t some crazy obsessed fan who knew his every move, how many pairs of shoes he owned, or what his favorite Lil Skies song was. She was just a normal girl who happened to do a similar job to him. A normal girl with the most beautiful face that he wished he could stare at for a very long time. Was he the weirdo? Maybe.

“Hey Layla!” Matt said as he walked down the stairs, Chris following right behind him.

Chris smiled slightly, nervousness creeping up his spine as he inched closer to Layla and Nick.

“Hey, guys!” Layla walked up to Matt as he walked into the living room and they shared a quick hug. “How’ve you been, Matt?”

Matt smiled. “Everything’s fine with me…” He started to look around as if he were looking for something.

“Knight’s over there, Matt,” Nick said with a deadpan tone, pointing towards the couch. It was quite comedic for Layla to see Matt be interested in the cat more than anything else in that moment.

Matt’s eyes widened as well as his smile as he walked straight towards the couch and sat down beside the cat. He put his hand in front of Knight’s nose to allow him to get used to his scent. After a couple of sniffs, Knight nuzzled Matt’s hand and climbed onto his lap, getting right back to sleep as Matt stroked his fur.

Layla smiled at the sight. “Aw, that’s too cute! I’ll have to take a photo!”

Nick replied, “I’ll take one and send it to you.”

“Thank you!” Layla responded before turning to face Chris, who stood awkwardly as if he were caught doing something naughty.

And to some extent, he was doing something naughty. He stared at her the entire time through Matt and Knight’s wholesome interaction. He loved seeing how heartfelt she was at the sight. Her eyes smiled alongside her beautiful lips. When she turned back around to face him, he shot his face down towards the ground feeling guilty, hence the awkward pose.

Layla walked up to Chris with extended arms and hugged him tightly, their embrace lasting longer than the ones she shared with Nick and Matt, and quite similar to the hugs they shared at Larri’s party.

Nick watched Chris and Layla’s hug, a smile hidden between his lips. He didn’t want to make it obvious how much he knew of Chris’s feelings for her. It would ruin his whole plan of getting them together in the first place.

“How’ve you been, Layla?” Chris asked, his voice having a bit of a flirty tone that he hoped she didn’t pick up on.

Layla did pick up on it. She thought it was sexy since the first time she watched him in videos, and thought it was even sexier in person. She replied to his question the same way she replied to Nick’s earlier, but reciprocated a tinge of the same flirtatiousness underneath. “I’ve been good. Kinda tired because of work, but overall I’m okay.”

Chris smirked warmly. “That’s good. Glad to see you again.”

Layla nodded and gulped at the sight of his smirk- it was hot. “Y-you, too.”

After this, Nick and Layla walked around the living room and kitchen area, having a mini chat and a tiny tour of the areas, while Matt and Chris walked upstairs to the podcast room. They made sure the room was spick-and-span for their guest beforehand, but they just wanted to do a little check-up of their set-up before the podcast session officially started.

“She seems so sweet. I’m glad she said yes to this.” Matt wiped down the table with a disinfecting towel, smiling to himself as he thought of how well the day would go.

Chris distractedly responded. “Yeah…”

Matt picked up on Chris’s distracted tone and looked over at him. He noticed the concerning nervous look on his face. “You alright, Chris?”

“Yeah,” he answered a bit irritated, “I’m good, Matt.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I was just askin’. Get the stick outta your ass.”

Chris sighed. “Sorry, I’m just focusing right now.”

“Focusing on… dusting?”

Chris looked down at the duster in his hand and rolled his eyes as he put it down. “No,” he paused for a moment to think of a better excuse than admitting his crush on Layla, “I’m focusing on the podcast questions we’re gonna ask Layla.” Perfect.

Matt chuckled, “Well that’s a first. You never think of the questions.”

“Well, maybe I’m growing,” Chris said with a smile at the end. He felt bad to lie to Matt, but with Nick knowing of his secret, telling Matt would feel like too much.

“Ooookay?” Matt reacted confused, but went along with it as they continued to prepare the room.

***

Throughout the filming of the episode, Layla could feel Chris’s gaze on her, like the heat of a fire warming against her skin. Everytime she looked over at him, his blue eyes, piercing yet soft, would be directed towards her. All of her answers to his questions as well as his brothers’ weren’t left unanswered. She could feel that he was actually interested in whatever she had to say.

And he was truly intrigued by the conversations they were having, never missing a beat to interject on a topic that he felt passionate about. That’s what Layla loved about him: his passion. She loved how hype he would get whenever they spoke on things he enjoyed like music, food, and their childhoods. His body would shift and jolt in a way that really portrayed how excited he was about those topics, and Layla was elated to see it.

However, Chris did notice that whenever he was the one to speak to Layla, whether it was asking her questions or interjecting his own opinions that he had hoped she picked up on, Layla would stumble on her words. He didn’t think it was any sort of nervousness, and definitely did not suspect the stuttering to be caused by her being frustrated with some sort of crush on him that he didn’t know about (although that absolutely was the reason why she stuttered). But he thought her stammering, especially in their interactions, was adorable regardless and didn’t mind it.

The four of them went on to discuss their favorite places and pastimes in their hometowns, how it compared to LA life, and interjecting some funny (more so embarrassing) moments from their lives in the conversations. The boys asked questions about Layla’s influencer career and how her life’s journey had been to this point as well as her plans for the future. It wasn’t a bad video at all.

***

The podcast finally ended. Nick rose from his seat, taking a couple of stretches before finally standing to put his sneakers back on. Matt followed in suit, holding his cup in his hand, making sure not to spill the contents of it as he picked up his sweater from beside him. Chris noticed his brothers gathering their contents and his eyebrow rose. “Where are you two going?”

Matt zipped his hoodie up and dug his empty in his pocket searching for his keys. “Nick texted me during the pod and said that he wanted to go to Chick-Fil-A for some food.”

“I got the munchies,” Nick inserted.

Layla stood up from her seat and grabbed her purse. “Oh, okay, I’ll follow you guys, if that’s okay. I’m kind of hungry-”

Nick quickly looked over at Layla and suggested, “No, no, no! You can stay here!” He noticed the anxiousness of his voice and quickly cleared his throat before continuing, “Me and Matt will get the food. You’re our guest, right?”

Layla nodded, albeit a bit confused by the suggestion.

Nick smiled. “Yeah, soooo,” elongating the “so” for emphasis, “you can stay here! Chris will take care of you. Right, Chris?”

Chris’s cheeks became a sharp shade of red after processing what his brother had said. Take care of her? What the fuck was Nick saying? Noticing everyone’s eyes on him as he was stunned by Nick’s words, Chris cleared his throat and replied, “Yeah, Layla. I’ll stay here with you.”

Layla was just as stunned by what was happening- moreso, what was about to happen. She was going to be left alone. With Chris. The guy she’d been thinking about since she first met him. No, she was thinking about him since she first came across his content. And now they’re alone. Together. In his house. And he looks good. And smells good. And-

The sound of the door squeaking open interrupted her thoughts. “‘Kay, guys, see ya later! Don’t freak Layla out too much, Chris,” Nick said.

“Shut up!” Chris snapped back at his brother jokingly, watching him and Matt leave before hearing the door shut.

It was just the two of them now. Chris and Layla.Together. Alone.

And yet, silence.

Until Chris said, “Hey.”

Layla smiled. “Hey.”

They were still sitting across from each other still in the podcast room, so there was no way for them not to notice each other’s presence.

Chris didn’t want to ignore her anyway. It would be rude of him to go on his phone and distract himself. She was a guest- he had to be a good enough host for her. Also, how could he ignore such a beautiful lady in front of him? He had to say something. “So, what do you wanna do?”

Layla shifted in her seat, making herself comfortable- or at least trying to. “I don’t know.” She chuckled to herself. “What do you wanna do?”

Ugh, why would she phrase the question back to me??, He thought. “Um… Well, I don’t know. Maybe we can just talk?”

“About what?” Layla lifted an eyebrow curiously.

Chris’s cheeks started to tint with red. “Maybe…” he raised a finger as he came up with an idea, “20 Questions?”

Layla laughed, and the reaction caused Chris’s cheeks to redden even more with embarrassment. He tried to cover it up with an explanation. “I know, it’s a stupid idea but maybe it can help us get to know each other personally? Unless you don’t want to-”

“Okay, go for it.” Layla smiled as she leaned back in her chair, now sitting as if she was ready for any questions he would hit her with.

Chris was shocked at her readiness. “Oh, wow, okay!” He bit his lip as the gears started to turn in his head, and the screwing of his face made Layla blush. “I gotta think of a question…” He took - couple of seconds and then-

“Alright,” the boy started. “What was your first impression of me?” Chris asked, leaning back into his chair similarly to her, and smirked. A ballsy question, yes, but one he was genuinely curious about.

Layla turned her head away from him slightly to avoid the sight of his smirk. Every fucking face he makes is so sexy, she thought to herself. “First impression? Like in person or in videos?”

Chris tried to keep eye contact with her, tilting his head a bit forward to get back in her field of view. “Either.” He shrugged, not out of disinterest, but rather the opposite, absolutely wanting to hear both perspectives of her thoughts.

She smiled as she thought about him. “I thought you were a good guy. At least when I started watching the videos.”

He raised one of his eyebrows, but the smirk remained as he let out a small scoff. “Just a ‘good guy’?”

Layla shifted her legs in her seat, the scoff and smirk combo making her a bit… aroused. “Okay, a great guy. Is that better?”

Chris laughed. “I’ll take it.” He paused before continuing, “And in person?” Here’s where it gets juicy.

Layla chuckled involuntarily out of nervousness before she answered. “You were bigger than I expected.”

Chris looked at her curiously. “Bigger?” He thought for a moment and then chuckled. He had the urge to make a joke, a rather inappropriate one along the lines of ‘you know what else is big?’, but the urge quickly subsided and led to a teasing question. “What- did you think I was that short?”

Layla immediately defended herself. “No, no! You just seem so… ‘skinny white boy from the Northeast’-esque. If that makes sense. Like Timothee Chalamet, y’know?”

“Hm. Okay,” he replied, but kept up the teasing aura. “ So you mean bigger as in more muscular? Or bigger as in thicker… like I got a fat ass?”

Layla rolled her eyes. “Let’s go with the first one ‘cause that second one is a reach.”

Chris fake-frowned. “You don’t think I got cake?”

Layla scoffed. “Shut up! Just take the compliment!”

Chris laughed as he felt Layla kick him playfully under the table. “I’ll tell you what I first thought about you.”

Layla placed her elbows on the table and put her face in her hands as she looked at Chris intriguingly. “Ooh, I’m excited.”

Chris’s teasing smirk softened into a warm smile as he began to think of the times he first came across her and her content. “Well, I knew of you before Larri’s party through little clips of you on TikTok. You just had this inviting smile and warm energy that automatically drew me in. I would see you in little funny compilations from your vlogs and GRWM videos, and your humor was kinda similar to mine. I was intrigued by you. And that’s when I started watching your videos.”

As he spoke, Layla thought about how she came across him- literally almost the same way. It was interesting. A coincidence? Maybe. A lot of people around their age come across people like that. But it was cute regardless.

Chris went on. “I don’t really know what you’re talking about when I watch your makeup tutorials or fashion try-on hauls or whatever…” he let out a small laugh then continued, “But I don’t mind it. Just your energy, your laughter, your beauty- both inside and out- were enough to get me hooked on you.”

It seemed as if Chris was genuinely pouring his heart out. “And in person, whoaaaa,” he leaned back in his chair in a way that emphasized his whoa, “The first time I met you in person, your beauty was just 10 times more intense. Like, you were pretty on my phone screen, but in person? Right up close? Wow. Amazing.” His cheeks tinted red again. “And you’re a great hugger. Your perfume just stayed in my nose for days after that.”

Chris was so caught up in his proclamation that when he finally noticed the girl’s beautiful cheeks becoming tinted with blush, he stopped himself from getting deeper and called her out jokingly to cut the tension. “You’re blushing!”

Layla lowered her head when she saw his finger point at her. “Blushing? I’m brown-skinned, how could you tell?”

“Your cheeks are a bit of a…” he leaned in closer to her, and she could definitely feel the heat now; it was obvious to the both of them, “They’re a chestnut color. Mahogany, if you will.”

“‘Mahogany if you will’”, Layla couldn’t help but mock the words from his lips. “You’re stupid, you know that?”

“Yeah?” He leaned back against his chair. “Is that another trait about me that you forgot to mention?”

She nodded and a teasing grin popped up on her face. Yes, she was teasing him now, but the grin was a bit more of a facade as to how she truly felt in that moment: aroused.

It was almost as if Chris knew of her growing desire as he continued to press her. “And what else?”

Layla noticed the same stupid, smug smirk on his face as he egged her on. “You’re stupid, and sloppy, and weird.”

“Uh-huh…” His irises seemed to grow darker as the tension between them became more palpable. “What else? Any positives?”

Silence.

“I’m waiting.” He sang in a teasing tone.

“Well, you’re…” One of Chris’s eyebrows rose in intrigue as she continued, “… creative.”

“Thank you! Well, I was waiting for ‘handsome’, but ‘creative’ is good enough.” He suddenly realized his flirtatious nature and questioned himself, What the fuck am I saying?

“‘Good enough?’” Layla scoffed playfully. “Well I’ll give you something even better than handsome then, since you’re so desperate.” She stood up suddenly and walked towards him, bending herself down to face him up close. She leaned into his ear, her breath brushing by the skin of its helix. “You’re sexy.”

What the fuck. What the fuck what the fuck what the fuck- was all that repeated in Chris’s mind. What. The. Fuck. Sexy? Me??

As if reading his mind, Layla added, “Yeah. You’re sexy. Your eyes, your lips- even your nose is sexy,” Layla’s tone sounded like she was admitting this nonchalantly, but as she realized the impact of her statements, her eyes began to widen and her heartbeat gradually sped up.

“Damn.” That’s all Chris could say at that moment. One explicative that was enough to express his shock. Damn. His eyes widened and if he didn’t have some sort of control of his reaction, his jaw would’ve fallen to the floor.

He fully faced her as he turned his body around, his nose now nearly touching hers. Their faces were nearly centimeters apart. If a kiss didn’t happen now, there wouldn’t be another chance.

So Chris kissed her. His lips pressed against her abruptly, yet with a hint of tenderness that allowed Layla to feel comfortable and not pressured to reciprocate it. Layla leaned into the kiss, her eyes closed and lips enveloped into the passion of the moment. Although the kiss lasted at most 10 seconds before Chris pulled away, there was an undeniable spark between them and a force that almost pulled them back into each other again. Almost.

Chris moved his head backward to look at Layla and her reaction to his sudden action. She looked pleased, but he wanted to really make sure. Really, really make sure. His hand caressed her face with a gentle touch, his thumb rubbing her cheek.

“Just fucking kiss me again”, Layla said in response, rolling her eyes at the boy before she could feel his hand grip onto her jaw and pull her into his lips. They were soft and tasted like cherry lip balm, the flavor shocking Layla, but she didn’t mind as she melted into his grasp and allowed him to take a hold of her face and mind. She then climbed on top of him, her legs now wrapped around his waist as she sat on his lap.

Chris’s hands felt an urge to roam her body like they were already on her face, but he controlled himself, not wanting to cross any boundaries without her permission. Feeling heated, he began to remove his sweater and Layla helped him with this as she saw him struggle with his movements as he focused on the passion of the kiss.

Chris sighed as they pulled away from their kiss for a second to process what was happening. “Fuck, I haven’t kissed anyone like that in a while. I feel so…”

“So what?”

“So… good. Layla, I need you. Fuck, I don’t know what I’m saying.”

“Chris,” Layla placed her hand on his chin, rubbing it in soft movements in a subtle way to soothe him. She could tell he was getting a bit anxious. But she could also feel how much he wanted to move the moment even further. “Chris, you’re okay. You’re with me, alright? Do you need me?”

Chris nodded, not being able to say much other than a “mm-hm”.

“Tell me what exactly you need me to do. I’ll take care of you,” Layla pressed her forehead against his and stared into his eyes, making sure that any changes in his face weren’t due to any discomfort or unease. “I promise, I will take care of you. Just tell me what you need.”

Chris’s breath hitched in his throat. He never thought he would get this nervous about a girl. Like ever. At least not in a long time. But, Layla? Fuck, she was something else. He watched her chest rise and fall as she breathed at a slow pace, which he took as a signal in his own consciousness to control his own breathing and relax. He would need to if he really wanted this moment to progress. “I need you to make me feel good. I need you to feel good, too.”

Layla began to move her hips back and forth against Chris’s lap, small breaths of pleasure escaping her lips as the ache between her legs was now being soothed by his touch. He watched her for a minute, taking the time to really process what was happening. His hands slowly started to grasp her hips, not yet applying pressure, but just holding onto her to get used to the way she felt in his hands. The girl bit her lip and started to whimper as she grinded down with more desperation, which Chris took as a sign to kiss her forehead and her cheek to soothe her a bit. He looked into her eyes and bit his own lip, nodding as he watched her pleasure herself with his body. “There you go… you look so pretty like that.”

Layla moaned in response at his praise, and Chris smiled as he began to help her grind on his lap, his hands gripping onto her hips and moving them back and forth. Their breathing escalated, sending them both in a spiral as they started to both find an orgasm subconsciously.

But Chris stepped out of the moment as soon as he felt himself nearing the precipice. He didn’t want to end this moment prematurely. “Get on your knees,” was all he instructed her as his eyebrows furrowed in sexual frustration. He wanted to make this beautiful girl in front of him unravel herself before he would with the limited amount of time they had alone together.

His sudden request caught Layla off guard, causing her eyes to widen and her actions to freeze. She looked at him in a way that she could recalibrate herself to actually take his commands, and finally did, getting off of him and settling onto her knees. Her widened eyes looked into his again, awaiting for another command. Something about the man in front of her and the situation they were in made her desire to be submissive in this moment.

Layla began to pull his pants down to his ankles but left his boxers by his thighs for precaution if someone happened to walk in. She wouldn’t wanna traumatize his brothers with the sight of her gagging on his dick.

“Yeah, pull my dick out, fuck…” He threw his head back as he felt the air of the room hit his bare cock. “Fuckkk…” He needed to feel her lips around him- or anything for that matter- right now.

Layla immediately started to rub his shaft, both of her hands around it as she began to move them up and down. She gathered some of the precum leaking from his tip to lubricate him somehow, but it wasn’t enough for Chris.

“Spit on my dick, please,” he requested with pouty lips, his head still thrown back, but his fingers found their way in Layla’s hair for some sort of comfort. “Just spit on it-” her saliva landed on his dick and she began to rub it in- “Good girl…” He ran his fingers through her hair in appraisal.

“Look at that pretty fuckin’ face…” Chris purred as he brought the same hand down in her hair down to caress her jaw, his thumb rubbing soothingly against her cheek. He noticed her looking back at the door repeatedly when she first kneeled down, and wanted to reassure her. “I see you wanting to look at the door, but don’t worry about anyone barging in here. We’ll hear the front door from up here when they get back,” he explained to further comfort her before getting her to do anything further.

Layla smiled and nodded at Chris as she continued to massage his shaft, causing him to bring his hand back to her hair and tug on it a bit. “O-okay,” he stammered, “I want you to suck me off, okay? Use those cute fuckin’ lips of yours on my dick.”

He watched as the woman kneeling before him wrapped her plump, glossed lips around the head of his dick, the contact making him unconsciously buck into her mouth a bit deeper than they both expected. He quickly stabilized himself onto the chair and anchored his feet on the ground, hoping to control his body from making that mistake again.

Layla began to bob her head up and down his shaft, each and every repetitive motion causing him to wince and groan in pleasure. It was a pleasure he hadn’t felt from another person in a while; a pleasure he had to mimic with his own right hand, the same right hand he was using to grip onto Layla’s hair. He was in bliss, but he knew he couldn’t be there for a long time.

In realization of their limited time, Chris started to apply force with the hand gripping her hair, helping her to bob on his dick with more vigor. He bit his lip and curled his toes in his shoes as he could feel her tongue dance around the skin of his shaft, exciting every nerve that existed there. When the tip of her tongue would find its way back to the tip of his dick, licking around the hole, now that was heaven. And her lips? Fuck. Plump, cushiony, comfortable, kissable. He didn’t know what she was wearing that made them feel so warm, almost spicy, whenever she kissed his dick. Maybe it was that lip plumper she said she liked to wear in one of those old videos she did? Regardless, it was working its magic.

Layla felt equally as pleased, the feeling of his dick in her mouth making her moan and salivate around him. She knew she couldn’t get too sloppy since at any moment, anyone could walk through the doors and ruin her moment. But the feeling of his warm and slightly salty length and the outline of the veins that adorned it were enough to keep her going.

“Oh, you’re too good at this, baby,” he complimented her with a moan as she continued her movements. “Wish I got to feel you do this sooner. Feels like this is what I’ve been missing out on my whole life- Ah!” He let out a small yelp as Layla took it upon herself to bring his tip to the back of her throat.

Layla held him in the back of her throat, thrusting her head up and down to let him hit the opening of her esophagus. She let out little coughs as she did this, and her legs opened wider underneath her, allowing her to play with herself as she grew more hungry to feel him inside of her pussy.

Chris brought his head up from its laid back position and noticed her hand repeating circular motions between her sprawled out legs. He snickered, clearly entertained by her desperate attempts to please herself. “‘You having fun down there, princess?”

Layla only moaned in response as she continued to deepthroat him and grind against her fingers at once. The sound of her moan was heaven, and he wanted to open the gates in her pussy to hear even more.

“Okay, princess, this feels good and all but,” he used his hand to guide her off of his dick, her lips making a pop as they let him go, “I wanna fuck you so badly. And I know you want me too, right Layla?”

Layla moaned, “Uh-huh, please?” She couldn’t get many words out in her current state, but the blissed-out look on her face and the lust in her eyes spoke for her. She pouted at him as she watched him stand up from his chair, studying his body and face to figure out what they would do next.

Chris grasped both of her hands with his, helping her up from her knees. He quickly grabbed her face and kissed her, his lips missing the feeling of hers on them. Before she could even get comfortable in the kiss, he shifted her body so that she was now bent over the podcast table. Her pretty back and ass were the only thing in his view, and it was delectable.

Chris held onto his cock as he positioned it in front of her pussy’s entrance. He rubbed it between the lips, teasing her hole with his cockhead. Layla backed herself up against him and whined, wanting to feel him inside of her as the ache between her legs couldn’t handle the teasing any longer. But Chris shushed her and slapped his dick against her clit a couple of times, almost in some way to punish her, causing her body to jolt and her mouth to let out a little cry. “Shh, it’s okay. You’ll get it; just relax, mama.”

Layla bit her lip as she felt him tease her a bit more, constantly pushing only the tip in and then pulling it out just before her pussy could even grasp him. She whined and moaned and whimpered some more until finally, he pushed himself inside.

The girl let out a long, drawled moan, probably one of the loudest she’d ever made, and Chris groaned at the sensations happening around him. From the sound of the moan, to the feeling of her pussy wrapping around him and coating his dick, to the sight of this girl’s beautiful body, he didn’t know if he would last long.

Chris began his thrusts in her, staccato with a slightly fast tempo, which filled the room with noises of bodies interlocking with each other in a hungry dance of desire. Her ass made little ripples that made contact with his pelvis, and that was a delicious sight to see. Chris groaned and cursed underneath his breath as he felt her pussy tighten around him more with every second that passed. The feeling of her walls gliding against him caused a friction that heated up his entire body.

Layla was in a trance. She moaned with every thrust and leaned her face and upper body against the table as she felt her body not have control anymore. Chris’s thrusts were what she had hoped from him: exuberant and needy, but with a subtle praising hit against her G-spot that made her feel like the luckiest woman on Earth. In the chase of her nearing orgasm, Layla started to thrust back into him, matching her movements with his own.

The man noticed this and slapped one of her buttocks, making Layla yelp underneath him. He repeated this a couple more times, wanting to hear her beautiful cries like he was hitting the replay button of his favorite song. “Fuck, Layla, throw that fucking ass back on me, yes,” he moaned, bringing another slap to the already sore skin of the right side of her ass. “You’re just too fuckin’ pretty, you know that?” Chris asked rhetorically, and he leaned his body over Layla’s, his chest now to her back. One of his hands gripped her jaw, which was wet with some drool that ran from her o-shaped lips, and the other on her shoulder as he continued to make sharp thrusts against her G-spot. She tightened around him at his praise almost instantly, causing Chris to wince and tighten his clasp against her face. “Prettier when I’m balls deep inside of you, too.”

Layla moaned, doing her ever-best to throw herself back onto him. The contact of their skin became louder as the impact grew harder. She was close to her first orgasm.

And Chris knew this, as he felt her clench around him even tighter and saw her body thrust into him more impatiently. Chris couldn’t handle it. He couldn’t handle her. The way she felt against him, the way she moaned, the way her head would tilt backwards and he could see her eyes roll back in pleasure and a little drool run down from her mouth and onto the hand grasping her jaw- it was all too much. He did his best to hold back his orgasm, though. He wanted to make his pretty girl feel good. She deserved it. He bit his lip and then encouraged her, “Let it out for me, Layla… Let yourself go for me, okay?” He brought his hand, once gripped to her jaw, down underneath her stomach and its fingers found themselves between her legs, rubbing her clit to aid in her search for her orgasm.

Then, finally, she threw her head back and moaned loudly as she came around him. Chris noticed the cream that slid down his shaft as he began to pull out of her slowly, and if didn’t have control of himself, he would have cum from that sight alone.

But, Chris turned Layla’s body around and lifted her on top of the table, making her lay down and spread out for him as he got her ready for their next position. He checked the clock in the corner of the room for a second, seeing the time read 5:36. It’s been 20 minutes, which was longer than his brother’s usually took for a run to Chick-Fil-A, but he couldn’t help but to think that his and Layla’s extended period of alone time was all due to Nick’s impeccable plan. He owed Nick one for real.

Chris’s attention went back onto Layla as he gazed into her lustful eyes. She was still having her orgasm the way she was biting her lip and holding back a moan, and this made him chuckle to himself. He didn’t know he could make a pretty girl cum like that.

He leaned down and kissed Layla again, feigning thrusts between the lips of her pussy with his dick as he sucked her tongue. Layla moaned into the kiss, and Chris almost seemed to inhale her sounds of pleasure as he kissed her.

He removed his lips from her mouth and looked down, puckering them to spit onto her pussy. He tapped his dick against her pussy as he had done minutes before to tease her again, but he didn’t want to take long as it backfired and caused him to tease himself. So, he finally placed himself back inside of her cavern and moaned at the feeling of her wrapping herself around him again.

Layla cried out a moan and threw her head back as he started his thrusts again. She grasped her tits which were still covered by her shirt, and let out a “fuck” as she began to play with then.

Chris noticed her actions and helped her, pulling her shirt down and making her tits pop out from above it, and guided her hand back onto her tits with his own hands grasping onto hers. They both played with breasts in tandem, bringing a new-founded level of intimacy to their heated fuck session.

Suddenly, Layla’s fingers removed themselves from gripping her breasts to fully interlock with Chris’s hands. Chris’s heart jumped as he looked down and saw her do this. He didn’t expect it. He didn’t expect her to be so romantic in the midst of their sex. But, he loved it. Did this mean that she wanted to be romantic with him? Was she hinting at this being more than just about the sex? Or did she do this for her own comfort and self-soothing?

He felt his heart beat even faster from all of this thinking, so he distracted himself by increasing the pace of his thrusts and delving himself deeper in her warmth, feeling her tighten around him again. He then noticed her eyes open and looked into his, almost like she wanted something from him. “What else do you want me to do, mama?” He could hear Layla let out something that could have been words, but unfortunately came out as little sporadic whimpers. He watched as she ran her hand down her body and tenderly grazed against her clit, making a lightbulb go off in his head. “Rub your clit?” She moaned in response and threw her head back as Chris allowed his thumb to apply pressure and rub at her flesh. “It’s okay, I got you, baby,” he cooed.

Chris smirked as he saw her face scrunch up in pleasure as his thumb moved circles on her clit. She looked so adorable and sexy like this. “There you go! Oh, beautiful girl, look at your face! You like feeling me rub your pretty little clitty?” He heard her let out a cute whine in reply. He chuckled. “Good girl…”

Creeeaak! The entrance door of the house creaked open, and the two of them could hear the rustling of Nick and Matt walking into the house.

Chris’s face paled. “We don’t have much time, fuck.” He used the opportunity to increase his thrusts, but angled himself in a way where his skin wouldn’t slap against hers with force that could cause any loud noises.

He began to praise her more, knowing that she was a mess whenever he complimented her, and also knowing that it would make her near her orgasm faster. “You’re a pretty girl?”

Layla nodded and brought her thumb in between her teeth, biting down on it as she felt him go faster against her G-spot. “Mhm.”

Chris leaned down to her face, his nose tip-to-tip with her own, his eyes looking like they were staring directly into her soul, and the timbre of his voice verberating against her eardrums. “No, I wanna hear you fucking say it to me. Tell me you’re a pretty girl.”

“I- I-” Layla moaned quietly before she noticed Chris’s eyes becoming more frustrated as he came close to his own orgasm. She continued, “I’m a pretty girl.”

“Mm-hm, yes, you are..,” Chris agreed with a nod and a kiss, his lips missing hers due to his dazed state of nearing his climax. “Fuck, I gotta hear you cum, baby. You have such pretty moans- c’mon,” he grunted as he slapped her pussy with his fingers and then spread her pussy’s labia with his fingers.

Everything happening caused Layla’s back to arch and body to shake as she orgasmed. Chris felt her clench around him and looked down to watch the cream escape from her hole. “There you go… Good girl. Let it all out for me.”

Layla groaned as she moved her body to ride out her orgasm on Chris’s dick, causing Chris’s own body to shake. His balls clenched as he began to have his orgasm, but he made sure to pull out before making any of his cum slip inside of her. His white liquid shot out onto the outside of her pussy and a bit on her stomach, the feeling of it landing on her causing Layla to look down at the sight. Chris laughed quietly as he watched her. “Yeah, that feels good?” Layla nodded and he smiled proudly.

The two suddenly heard footsteps growing louder as Nick and Matt walked up the stairs. “Shit, shit, shit,” Chris grabbed a baby wipe and began to wipe her up, using a paper towel from the center of the table to dry her off. They helped each other to fix their clothes and look at least somewhat presentable.

“Hey, we’re baaack!” Nick sang as he swung the door open and walked into the room. He and Matt stood by the door, but Nick surveyed the area suspiciously, noticing the disarray of Chris’s hair and the way the table. “What are you two still doing here? Chris, I told you to make her comfortable.” He glared over at Chris, not because of Chris and Layla still in the room, but because of what he suspected happened in that room while he and Matt were away. It could take an idiot to know what happened, and unfortunately, he was Boo-Boo the Fool.

But Chris shrugged and responded to Nick’s question with zero hesitation. “Layla and I just got caught up in conversation.” He stood up and stretched, looking at Nick and Matt with a normal, unfazed face. He made sure he did his best not to look like he just had the best orgasm of his life.

And it worked, moreso when it came to Matthew. He didn’t suspect a thing, not even a hint of a crush between Chris and Layla in the first place. When he looked around the room, he noticed everybody giving each other looks and practically speaking with their eyes, but he didn’t fully understand why. So, he brushed off his confusion and spoke. “Okay, so we bought food for everybody. We can eat downstairs or in here; whatever works for you.*

“We can eat here,” Layla suggested. She looked over at Chris and noticed his entire body stiffen for a couple of seconds before he sat back down in his seat and nodded in agreement.

Nick smiled at Layla before looking at Chris, his eyebrows furrowing only a small bit at him as a hidden signal to his brother that he knew something was up. “Okay, let’s set everything up.”

Chris walked over to Nick and helped him get all of the food and drinks from the bag, before Nick gave him a small pinch on his arm. “We need to talk after this,” he whispered to him at a low pitch, so low to the point Chris could hear him growl. Chris chuckled and winked before walking off to set the table, taunting Nick in a way to tell him that he already knew what Nick wanted to talk to him about later.

All of them began to eat and shared casual conversations amongst each other, the energy of the room being calm and casual; quite the juxtaposition to how heated and desperate it felt a few minutes before Nick and Matt came back.

And Chris and Layla were very aware of this. The two shared a look that only they could understand- a certain smirk with a glint of satisfaction and requited feelings for each other in their eyes- and continued eating their food.

[caplanbuckybarnes]

Surprise! (bucky barnes)

Summary: you thought everyone forgot your birthday.

Warnings: none, fluff at the end.

WC: 600ish

A/N: my birthday was October 8. i was feeling super sad and miserable that day and I didn't want to keep posting sad things on here on that day. So viola. have a sad reader on her birthday. lol

Read on Ao3!

-

The sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the bustling streets of New York. The city was alive with chatter and laughter, but in your small apartment, you felt an unsettling quiet. It was your birthday, but no one seemed to remember.

You had casually dropped hints to your friends in the days leading up to today—talking about your favorite cake, reminiscing about past celebrations—but as the hours slipped away, your excitement faded into disappointment. Messages were scarce, and the few you received were vague: “Happy Wednesday!” or “Can’t wait to catch up soon!”

With a heavy heart, you settled onto the couch, scrolling through social media. Everyone seemed to be having fun, but you felt like a ghost, floating through a world that had forgotten you.

Just as you were about to turn off your phone and give in to the sadness, a knock echoed through your apartment. You sighed, hoping it was a friend stopping by with a slice of cake or, at the very least, a friendly face.

When you opened the door, there stood Bucky Barnes, his signature smile brightening the dim hallway. “Hey, you! Ready for some fun?”

“Fun? What do you mean?” You forced a smile, trying to hide the heaviness in your chest.

“Oh, you know, just thought we could hang out. Got some stuff planned,” he said, stepping inside. His easy demeanor made you feel a little lighter, and you nodded, grateful for the distraction.

As the evening wore on, Bucky introduced you to a series of games and movies, keeping the atmosphere light. You laughed at his antics, but deep down, you felt the ache of disappointment. You wanted to celebrate, to feel special, but it seemed like this was just another ordinary night.

“Okay, I’ll be right back,” Bucky said, heading toward the kitchen. You watched him go, feeling a mix of appreciation and sadness. Just as you settled back into your thoughts, the doorbell rang again.

Bucky returned with an armful of snacks. “I hope you like pizza rolls,” he said, grinning. You couldn’t help but smile at his enthusiasm. “But we’re not done yet!”

Before you could ask what he meant, he grabbed your hand and led you back to the door. He opened it wide, revealing a group of your closest friends, all smiling and holding balloons, streamers, and a giant cake that read “Happy Birthday!”

Your heart leapt, and your eyes widened in disbelief. “You…you all remembered?”

Bucky stepped forward, pulling you into a warm embrace. “Of course we did! We just wanted to make it special. You mean a lot to us, and we couldn’t let your birthday go by without a proper celebration.”

Tears brimmed in your eyes as you turned to face your friends. They all chimed in, “Surprise!” and wrapped you in hugs. The warmth of their love washed over you, banishing the loneliness that had settled in your heart.

“Thank you, Bucky,” you whispered, feeling overwhelmed with joy. “I can’t believe you did all this for me.”

Bucky chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well, it was a team effort, but I wanted you to know how much you’re loved.”

As the night unfolded, laughter and music filled your apartment, and the worries of the day faded away. You danced, played games, and shared stories, surrounded by friends who cherished you.

In that moment, you realized that even on days you felt forgotten, there was always love waiting to surprise you. And with Bucky by your side, you knew you would never be alone.

[mixsethaddams]

Eddie and Steve were sitting on the back porch of the little two bedroom house that Owens and his merry band of government lackies gave to the Munsons in exchange for signed NDAs.

It was getting late and Steve knows he should go home, but Eddie keeps finding new conversations to strike up and it just feels too natural to keep responding. Getting up and announcing he was going home would be downright rude. The deckchair he was lounging in was confortable too, so it just made more sense to stay.

Eddie passed Steve the joint they had been nursing between them. Steve had lost track of what they were talking about a long time ago. He was too caught up in the low rumble of Eddie’s voice, quiet enough to make it feel like they were sharing secrets even if they were all alone with nothing scandalous to say. It didn’t matter what Eddie was saying. Steve was happy to just listen. The subtle fizz of the weed spread across his skin as he leaned his head back and enjoyed the light breeze that cut through the warm night.

Today was the same as every other day.

Steve woke up, showered, picked Robin up for work, and then spent eight hours rewinding tapes. He listened to her go on and on about her latest discovery of why Vickie was the perfect person, adding commentary where needed. Steve was happy for her, he was. He just wished she wasn’t so distracted. Not today.

And then he ferried Mike to Dustin’s, Will to the hospital to visit Max, brought Lucas home from the hospital so he could shower and then right back over again. He was barely through the door when Eddie called and asked how his day was, insisting Steve come over to hang out when he heard it was just ‘fine, average, nothing special’.

Steve had wanted nothing more than to fall asleep on the couch with a terrible tv movie in the background. There was something about Eddie, though. Something in the way he moved, the way he said Steve’s name and dragged his teeth along his bottom lip over the V sound. The thoughts of staring at the stars with Eddie might just be the one thing that could redeem today. Even if no one else would understand.

Steve arrived thirty seconds before two large pizzas, courtesy of one of Argyle’s buddies in the business. They each had all Steve’s favourite toppings. Which was weird because Eddie definitely didn’t like olives or pineapple. Steve had a cold beer in one hand and hot slice in the other before he even said ‘hello’.

If there was any way Steve wanted to spend the final hours of today, it was with Eddie. He knew why, of course. He bit his tongue every time he got close to saying it out loud, but he knew exactly what that something was.

“And I figured hey, if it means I don’t have to sell weed to highschoolers anymore, then why not, you know?”

Steve’s brain took a second to catch up to Eddie’s train of thought about his new job. He was going to be working in a garage with Reefer Rick’s nephew.

“Totally,” said Steve, sipping the mostly empty bottle in his hand, the liquid warmed by being held so long. “I bet you’ll be great at it too,”

“Yeah well,” said Eddie, quirking his eyebrows. “I hope so,”

They fell into silence again and Steve started to think it might not be rude to leave any more. The joint was down to the nub, the beer was gone, and Eddie’s eyelids were looking heavy.

“I should, uh…” said Steve, shifting his weight on the chair to stand up.

“Why didn’t you tell them?” asked Eddie, looking up at the moon. Steve could see its reflection in his eyes.

Steve stopped.

“Tell who?” he asked. “Tell them what?”

Eddie sighed.

“It’s your birthday, man…” breathed Eddie. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Oh…” said Steve. He could feel his face heat up. “I don’t… I guess its not a big deal for me… Not for years…”

Eddie nodded solemnly.

“You’re too good for us, Harrington,” said Eddie, shaking his head. “I saw what you did for Robin’s birthday. Did she remember, at least?”

Steve didn’t say anything. He knew he’d probably get a frantic apology and a card tomorrow. It wasn’t like he was going to hold it against her.

“Pizza and beer isn’t exactly the five star treatment you deserve,” said Eddie. “Hope it’s enough to, you know, make today not suck entirely,”

Eddie waved his hand around in a circle, as if gesturing to the very day itself.

“This actually might be the best end to a birthday I’ve ever had,” admitted Steve. “So, you know, thanks. For doing this for me, I mean,”

“Thanks for eating all the olives,” joked Eddie, draining his beer bottle. “Besides, any excuse to hang out with you, I’ll take it,”

“Yeah?” asked Steve, his voice smaller than he expected.

“Yeah,” answered Eddie gently. “I like being with you,”

Steve’s stomach lurched. He followed Eddie’s gaze to the moon. She was beautiful tonight and Steve felt safe the cool glow she cast over them.

“How did you know?” asked Steve, playing with the hem of his sweater. “Or like, care?”

“Saw it on your license a whole back,” Eddie answered, lighting two cigarettes at once and handing one to Steve. “And I cared because… Because I care. I didn’t want you to be sad on your birthday,”

“Oh,” said Steve meekly. “I’m not sad. Not now. I’m happy now, so it worked,”

Steve took the offering of the cigarette and sat back in his chair, looking at his hand and the subtle hint of ‘don’t go’.

“Did you have a birthday wish?” asked Eddie, holding up the still-lit match. It was burning quickly down towards his fingertips.

“Just one…” said Steve slowly, looking through the flame at Eddie.

“A person?” asked Eddie.

Steve gulped, and nodded.

“So make it,” Eddie said. “Don’t tell me, or it won’t come true,”

Steve blew out the flame, still gazing into brown eyes, watching them turn black when the light was gone.

Eddie’s watch beeped. It was midnight.

“Didn’t come true,” said Steve sadly, his eyes still fixed on the point where Eddie had been holding the match between them.

“Give it time…” said Eddie softly.

Steve took a long drag of his cigarette and wondered if this is what every night would be like. If his wish came true and he got exactly what he wanted, would he sit out here and smoke and stare at the stars and listen to Eddie talk every night? Was he allowed to have that?

“I wished for the person that makes me happy,” said Steve, not looking over at Eddie but feeling bolstered by weed and boldened by beer.

“It won’t come true now,” teased Eddie, his voice low.

“Even if I tell them?” asked Steve, turning to look at Eddie. He looked into Eddie’s eyes again and thought of all the things he wanted to say. He felt something shift between them when Eddie didn’t look away.

“I made a wish on my birthday too,” said Eddie. “That didn’t come true either,”

“What did you wish for?” asked Steve.

Eddie’s arm flopped between their chairs, his cigarette burning steadily between his fingers.

“To make someone happy,” he said.

“Like…” whispered Steve.

Steve slowly moved his hand so it brushed against Eddie’s, the backs of their fingers rubbing together. Steve hooked Eddie’s pinkie with his own. Eddie looked at their hands and smiled gently.

“Yeah,” said Eddie quietly.

Steve hummed.

“Guess I just needed to wish for it too,” said Steve.

[echobx]

Birthday Schenanigans - JJ Maybank × fem!reader

summary: it's y/n's birthday and she gets distracted while playing a game with her friends, just for JJ to take care of her soon after

word count: 969

warnings: smut, edging, thigh riding, fingering

author's note: I wrote this around this time last year, and decided to give it a new home outside my wip folder. It's a little bumpy bc it's one of the first things I ever wrote, but I think it's still okay.

kinktober masterlist

Without thinking about what you are actually doing, you roll your hips back to lean forward and hand Kie the pen. JJ's leg presses against you, the friction of the jeans against your panties and the light pressure feels incredible. Your mind is clouded by the weed and the warm feeling that started building in your core. You crave a release. Any release. And this is just too perfect to not try it out. Over the next half hour or so, basically the whole duration of the stupid game, you grind on his leg. Very slowly and carefully so that no one but the two of you notices. Small motions that bring you just enough pleasure to keep going, but not enough to actually make you finish. Every once in a while, he tips his leg for a few seconds and stops again. You gasp the first time he does it, and your friends all look at you for a moment before continuing with the game. Keeping a straight face and not making the slightest sound is incredibly difficult, but you manage it anyway. 

If you weren't focusing so hard on not showing your lewd actions, you might have heard the knock on the door when your friends do. JJ’s hand moves from your back to your stomach, and he pulls you back to sit fully in his lap. You can feel his warm breath on your neck and his left hand intertwined with your own. Leaning his head against yours is making a shiver run down your spine. "You can stop fucking my leg now. Someone is here for you," he whispers into your ear, and you bite your lip, before recalling the last words he said. "Who?" you turn to look at him. There is a spark in his eyes that you haven't seen in him all night. A lustful glimmer, as if your little game messed him up more than yourself, if that is even possible. You feel the need to kiss him; his soft and demanding lips. To feel him inside you in the only socially acceptable way for the situation you are in. Anything would suffice. Even just a gentle brush of his hand against your cheek or the small circles he likes to draw on your skin. Just him for you, nothing else. You don't bother for who is at the door. It could be Santa Claus and you wouldn't give a fuck. All you can think of are the very dirty things you want to do to your boyfriend. 

"Get up, or I'm not going to let you do whatever you are thinking about," he whispers against your lips and gently pushes you off him. The sudden loss of his presence makes you more dizzy than the thoughts that still haunt your mind. You shake your head, trying to sort your thoughts before opening the door. "Pizza and beer is all the gift I can offer," John B says from behind a huge mountain of boxes. You have to laugh while guiding him inside, your mind suddenly freed from the lust that captivated it just moments prior. He puts the boxes down on the kitchen counter and hugs you, "happy birthday." "Thanks bro," you wink at him, taking a slice of pizza and going into your room to change, not wanting to sit in wet underwear all night. 

The door behind you closes, and you are pushed against the closet, hands above your head and JJ’s hips pressed against yours. He kisses you with so much passion and tenacity that you forget why you even went into your room. You know it wasn't to do this, but you can't for the life of you remember what.  "Don't ever do that again unless we're alone. I don't want anyone seeing you like that, not even them," he breathes against you, and you nod, biting your puffy lips. "Keep your arms up." A silent order that you are more than willing to follow. Not sure what exactly is to happen now, but with the impression that it will be worthwhile. He opens your jeans and pulls your panties down with them, letting you step out of both. "Fuck," his fingers grace over your swollen cunt. "You are way too wet for how little movement you got. What did you think of while doing it?" You gasp as he pushes his long fingers into you. "Tell me what you thought of," he demands again. "You. How you would punish me. How you punished me before," you have to bite your lip so you don't moan, not wanting your friends to hear what you are doing. "I could do it now. Not make you come, let you sit in anticipation for another hour before I let you wreck me," he whispers and kisses you again, not just to kiss you, but also to muffle the lustful moan that you can't hold back at that moment. "Promise to show me how that new toy works, and I'll let you finish." His quiet whispers are followed by another kiss and even more choked moans while he keeps fingering you. His thumb is playing with your clit while you try to stay contained. "Promise me,” JJ rasps in your ear. "I do. I promise. Please," you beg for your release, and he kisses you again while finally allowing you to let go of the tension that had nested in your stomach for the last few hours. JJ pulls away as soon as your legs are done shaking and picks up your slip, using it to wipe off most of what spilled out of you. "You need clean underwear," JJ smiles, proud of his work, and then he leaves you standing in your room, panting and flushed and completely exhilarated. 

please don't copy and/or post my work onto other platforms! ~e©ho

taglist: @redhead1180 @spideysimpossiblegirl @drwstarkeyy @princessmaybank @ijustwantttoread @kys4-20 @immyowndefender @julczimozart @m2m2m2 @mochimms @dorkyfangirl24 @itsme-again @maybankslover @th3eternalersi @jjmaybankssurfergf

[reidsdimples]

Confetti 🎉

Spencer Reid x bau!Reader

Just cute 💝

“It’s not too much! How could it be too much?!” Penelope exclaims as she tosses confetti onto and around Spence’s desk.

You frown, especially because she picked the tiny confetti that finds its way into everything. Spencer will hate it.

“You just wanna torture him,” you shake your head and grin.

“You remember that time he filled my office drawer with those spring loaded snakes? Nearly gave me a heart attack! He gets what he deserves in the form of too much confetti love,” she quips as she dumps the smaller confetti into his drawer.

“Baby girl, you have your own office. We’ll never hear the end of what you’re doing to the kid,” Derek cuts in and drapes an arm over her shoulder.

“Shh! He’ll be here any minute!” Penelope says.

“Lights out, he’s in the elevator,” Hotch says more stoically.

The surprise party probably could have happened anywhere. But he would be least expecting it in the bullpen and as a result of a late night text from Hotch.

You crouch down and fiver nervously with the horn noise maker thing. Emily drags JJ behind a desk as the elevator dings open.

Spence pauses before opening the glass door, suspicion painted over his soft features. He glances through the glass briefly, furrows his eyebrows like he does when he’s thinking, and sighs.

“He’s suspicious,” you whisper to Penelope who swats your arm.

Just then Rossi exits the elevator. Your saving grace and plan B in case he decided to back out.

“I wonder what Hotch has for us,” he smiles knowingly at Spence before ushering him through the glass door. You can tell he so wanted to back out.

“SURPRISE!” The team jumps out with a roar of noise makers and clapping.

“Happy birthday Spence!”

“Happy birthday kid!”

An onslaught of attention is turned towards him and he sweetly smiles and takes it all in.

“Wow I didn’t expect this,” he lies. “Thanks everyone!”

“Happy birthday, you,” you nudge him sweetly. His face lights up when you talk to him, causing your heart to flutter.

You’re starting to think this crush isn’t just one sided. You hope, anyway.

Spencer kind of took you under his wing when you arrived at the BAU six months ago.

“It’s everywhere!” Spencer exclaimes upon inspecting his desk and drawers.

The team collectively points at Penelope who smiles wide with pride.

“That’ll teach you to put spring loaded critters in my desk!” She teases.

Spencer bites his lip and nods in a touchè manner and you find yourself smiling almost too hard. His cheeks are reddened and it always so cute.

Pizza is delivered and cake is cut while everyone socializes. You see that Spence occasionally turns his attention to picking confetti off of his desk, it seems to really bother him.

While he and JJ converse with Rossi, you decide to start emptying his drawers so you can dump the confetti out. It doesn’t take very long, mostly folders and a few fidget toys are scattered within them.

You’re dumping out the second drawer when he appears.

“What are you doing?” He asks and sits on the edge of the desk.

“It seemed to really bother you,” you answer as you tried the contents of his drawer.

“I’m pushing the meeting to ten am tomorrow, go home and get some sleep!” Hotch instructs the team abruptly. It was one am so there was a collective sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Spence smiles. “I can do the rest tomorrow.”

“No it’s okay, I don’t mind,” you insist. “Go home and get some sleep. It won’t take long.”

“See you tomorrow, Y/N,” Emily hugs you and then JJ.

“See you guys!” You wave them off.

Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Penelope leave in tandem. Penelope offered to help you clean the confetti but you told her to go home, she had already decorated the entire office. You could clean it up.

“Shouldn’t you be going,” you point to the elevator closing on the rest of the team.

“No I’m going to help. You can’t get rid of me so don’t even try,” Spence teases you playfully.

You huff a small laugh, smiling to yourself as you shake your head. He’s so cute.

“Huh?” Spence says suddenly. Wait, did I murmur something?

“What?” You turn to him, flustered.

“I swear you said ‘so cute,’” he tilts his head as he pops a balloon in his hand. You jump at the sound.

“I- uh- no,” you stammer. Your cheeks heat which is a dead give away.

“You’re stuttering, your breathing increased, your face is red… you’re lying,” he seems amused.

“I didn’t mean to say that!” You slap his arm with an embarrassed smile. You rush past him back to his desk to keep cleaning.

The next few minutes drag on awkwardly, neither of you knowing what to say next. Spence seemingly having little experience in the flirting department.

“Okay fine, I thought it was cute that you insisted on staying and helping despite the mess driving you crazy,” you cross your arms and lean against the wall.

You watch him closely as he turns his head toward you from where he’s leaning over his desk. His long hair and sharp jaw line causes your heart to skip a beat. His brown eyes meet yours as he articulates what exactly he’s going to say.

“You think I’m cute?” He asks, standing to his full height with all of his attention on you. No I think you’re fucking drop dead sexy but sure cute works. A small grin plays in his lips as he awaits your response.

“It’s a crush, really a small crush. And I’m sorry. It’s so inappropriate. I shouldn’t have said anything,” you ramble off and turn away from him.

Something about admitting this makes him intimidating. Especially because he’s walking towards you, fixated and silent. The gears turning in his big giant brain and you have no idea what he’s thinking.

“I like you too,” his voice comes out hoarse, a near whisper and he’s right behind you.

You turn back towards him as he pushes his hair back, he swallows hard, his face and neck now colored pink.

He’s nervous, disheveled, adorable.

You push yourself up on your tiptoes and kiss him quickly, just a small kiss. It shocks him, his eyes widening. His tongue runs across his bottom lip and then he’s grabbing your face in his hands.

He kisses you softly, sweetly. Your hands run down his arms and tangle into his shirt. You’re against the wall and his kissing you slowly, as though to take in and taste you completely. His soft lips taste better than you could have imagined as you push your tongue out to find his.

Shit.

The moment goes on in perfect passionate kissing and touching. His hands find your waist, your hips, your lower back, and your body comes alive for him. Small breathy sounds escape as you both fight for air and dominance in the kiss.

Finally you break it, pulling back and looking up at him. His lips are slightly swollen now, his pupils blown wide, and his hair messy from your hands.

“Happy Birthday, Dr. Reid,” you whisper against his lips before kissing him again.

[sugdenlovesdingle]

Prompt if you like?

Bobby and Athena spot Buck & Tommy on a date, and notice how happy and smiley they are with each other.

Oh thanks for this - i am a sucker for outsider POV's! I hope you like it!

---

"Now why have you brought me here?" Athena asked, linking her arm through Bobby's. "It's not my birthday or our anniversary."

"Can't I just take my beautiful wife out for a nice dinner? Somewhere we haven't been before?" Bobby replied. "This place got good reviews. Apparently the pizza is really good."

"And since when are you such a big pizza fan that you'll drive all the way over here?"

Bobby smiled.

"I'm just happy we're both alive and well and get to enjoy our time together. After the cruise and the fire I'm not taking any of that for granted anymore"

Athena gave his arm a squeeze. The past few months had been a lot.

"And that includes dinner at Hollywood's oldest Italian restaurant?" she asked, reading the awning on the front of the building.

"Yeah why not. Everything is more or less back to normal now, I think we deserve a night out on the town. They have live music too. Maybe I'll even get a beautiful lady to dance with me." Bobby said and twirled her around under his arm before walking into the restaurant.

The place wasn't too busy and a waitress showed them to their table and handed them their menus.

They ordered and sat back to people watch for a while as they waited for their food to arrive.

The atmosphere was nice, the house band was playing something jazzy, and they were enjoying themselves just catching up and talking about their days.

Bobby was in the middle of telling a story about one of the 118's recent calls when he noticed Athena's attention was no longer on him.

"Am I boring you? Has Hen told you this story already?"

"Hmm? Oh no, no... just... how did you say you found this place again?"

"Trusty google. And I think either Chim or Eddie mentioned it once."

"Or Buck?"

"Possibly." Bobby shrugged. "Why?"

"Because..." Athena trailed off and Bobby followed her line of sight.

He didn't see anything in particular that could remind her of Buck, and he was just about to ask her what she meant, when he saw the man in question sitting at a table, smiling brightly at someone who had their back turned towards them.

He was pretty sure he knew who that person was.

"Is that Tommy with Buck?" Athena asked.

"I think so. I think they're getting pretty serious."

"Tommy used to be at the 118 wasn't he? I remember Hen mentioning him from time to time. What's he like?"

"He's good people, Athena. Don't worry. He's good for Buck. They're good for each other." Bobby reached across the table and squeezed her hand. "I haven't seen Buck this happy in... well... ever I think."

Athena didn't really reply, just kept watching Buck and Tommy.

They had apparently been there longer than her and Bobby because they were sharing a dessert.

She watched Buck blush as Tommy fed him a bite and get up slightly to lean across the table to kiss him.

He looked happy. Content. Comfortable. In love.

"Do you want to go over and say hi?" Bobby asked her.

On the other side of the restaurant a waitress handed Buck and Tommy their bill and Athena smiled to herself watching them play-fight over who would get to pay.

"And crash their date?" she shook her head. "Let them enjoy their night."

Apparently Buck had won the battle and he triumphantly handed the waitress his card.

As they got up and headed towards the door a few minutes later, she noticed Tommy putting a hand on the small of Buck's back and gently steering him past the other customers and tables.

unfortunately or fortunately, she wasn't sure, Buck spotted them and dragged Tommy over to their table.

"Cap! Athena! What are you guys doing here?"

"Same thing as us I think, babe." Tommy teased and Athena mouthed "babe" at Bobby while the two of them were distracted.

"Yeah, it's date night." Bobby told them. "We're treating ourselves to a nice dinner instead of take out and reality TV."

"Wait, is your kitchen not finished yet? I can cook for you. I'll make a few dishes and drop them off and you can freeze them and.."

"Buck, it's fine. Our kitchen is fine. We're just enjoying living our lives."

"Which might not have happened if it wasn't for you." Athena told Tommy, noticing how the hand from his back, now had found its way to Buck's hip.

"It was a team effort." He deflected. "One I'm glad had a happy ending."

"I'll drink to that." Bobby raised his glass at the two men.

Tommy smiled and turned to Buck.

"We should get going or we'll miss the movie."

"The only thing we'd miss is the first fifteen minutes of commercials." Buck replied with a grin, clearly a common argument between the two.

"And the trailers." Tommy argued. "I don't want to miss those."

Buck playfully rolled his eyes.

"We gotta go cap or my date will complain about missing the trailers the whole time."

Bobby laughed.

"You two enjoy the rest of your night." he told them and the two of them said their goodbyes and left.

Athena watched Buck grab Tommy's hand as they walked toward the exit and smiled.

She might not know Tommy that well yet, but she could tell the two of them were absolutely smitten with each other.

"So does he pass the test?" Bobby teased but Athena decided not to take the bait.

"Yeah." she nodded. "You're right. He's good people."

[sincerelyneo]

birthday | h.rj

“so cover your eyes, i have a surprise”

💿now playing: birthday by katy perry

❯ summary: It’s your boyfriend’s first birthday with you. Too bad he’s too stubborn to tell you what he wants, leaving you to take matters into your own hands. Still, you’re certain the little blue set you have at the back of your closet will be just the perfect present for him.

❯ pairings: renjun x fem!reader

❯ genre: established relationship, smut, tooth rotting fluff.

❯ words: 5.9k

❯ tags: 18+ minors dni!, smut, lingerie, birthday sex, unprotected sex (wrap it up), slight begging, praising, heavy petting, reader uses she/her pronouns, renjun calls reader his girl, renjun is very smitten, reader dresses up for renjun’s birthday.

a/n: i’m in the process of going through my old google docs to find my old fics and repost them.

“Could you please stop being so stubborn?!”

It’s the twelfth time this week you’ve asked Renjun what he wanted for his birthday. You’ve asked the boy so much you swear you’ve had this argument in every part of your house: the living room, the bedroom, the dining room, and even the bathroom. But today, your boyfriend is adamant he doesn’t want anything in the kitchen. 

“I don’t understand you sometimes,” you huff, folding your arms across your chest and pressing your weight against the island. “You had no problem telling Chenle and Mark what you wanted, why are you giving me a hard time?” 

Renjun chuckles to himself as he starts placing last night’s leftover pizza in the microwave. 

You’re right — he knows you’re right — and he thinks about how willing he was to tell Mark about the new expensive shoes he had seen and needed to have. 

“This isn’t funny!” You groan. 

“Baby, I’ve told you a thousand times, you don’t need to get me anything,” he finishes twiddling the dial before turning around and pressing his arms against the counter behind him. 

You notice the way the arm muscles, that his short-sleeved t-shirt was exposing, tense and the way his veins become more prominent. He always looks so hot in the morning, hair dishevelled and eyes droopy from staying up all night just to fuck you. And you swear, if you weren’t so goddamn mad at him right now you’d fall to your knees instantly and fumble with his pyjama bottoms. 

“But I just want to treat you, Jun,” you whine, bouncing a little in distress. Renjun sucks a breath between his teeth as his eyes flick to your boobs.

He pushes himself off the counter and pulls you into a big bear hug, he was good at giving those, and the two of you always knew the minute he engulfs you in them you become putty in his hands. 

“You spoil me enough already by being my girl,” he presses a soft kiss to your hair and you almost melt — but then you remember, this is the twelfth time he’s played this tactic to avoid this conversation —  and you were sure as hell not letting him whither out of it once again. 

You untangle his arms from your sides and watch him smirk as they fall. This is usually the part where you kiss his nose and tell him to stop being so cute, but not today — you’re pissed. 

“I’m not falling for it this time, Huang,” you shove your hands on your hips, “so quit playing around and just tell me what you want.”

He huffs, “Baby, do we have to do this now, it’s early.”

“Yes, we’re doing this now! You’re not getting any younger!”

He rolls his eyes. He just doesn’t get it. Why can’t you understand that he doesn’t want you to spend your money on him? He didn’t need you to pamper him with expensive gifts just to know that you love him. He already knows that — you make it very clear to him when you're screaming his name. He finds it ironic actually, that you’re the one calling him stubborn yet you won’t give up on this. And that’s when he gets his idea. 

“I know what I want-”. Your eyes light up with joy the minute he says it. “-I want you to stop asking me what I want. Now that would be the best present to date,” and now they’re dimming. 

“You’re impossible, you know that?!”

“It’s all a part of my charm,” he winks. 

The microwave beeps and Renjun lets out a sigh of relief as he pulls out the hot plate. He takes a bite, mouth full and says, 

“I know you’re not gonna drop this, so we’ll finish this after my pizza.” 

Then he saunters past you and into the living room.   

You in fact did not finish that conversation after Renjun’s pizza. You did try, but your boyfriend was great at nuzzling into your neck and gripping your thighs tight enough to distract you. 

So now, you’re standing here, in your kitchen, on his birthday, trying to make him breakfast as a last minute surprise. It was a small but possible gesture considering he had not given you anything to work with. 

Renjun stumbles out of the kitchen half asleep, hair all over the place with his sweatpants hanging off his hips. He rubs his eyes, wincing at the shriek of the smoke alarm that had woken him up. 

The sight he found in front of him was you, standing on top of the kitchen counter, frantically waving a dish towel at the smoke alarm to get it to stop. You’re covered in flour from trying to make pancakes from scratch, smoke steaming from the frying pan.

When the screeching does stop, you blow out a heavy frustrated sigh dropping your hands to your side noticing Renjun. He’s standing there, leaning against the door frame with a wide grin plastered on his face; looking from you to the kitchen that looks like a bomb exploded in it. 

"What's all this?" he asks, eyes lit up to match the amused look on his face.

You give him a sheepish smile. Gesturing to the plate of black pancakes on the bench across from him.

"Uhm... Happy Birthday?"

“Ah, so you finally decided on a birthday present.” 

“Yeah, but I think I’ve ruined whatever it was supposed to be.” 

The two of you look down at the ruined breakfast. You’re embarrassed but he’s so sweet about it, and still offers to eat the pancakes. You tell him not to, unless he wanted this birthday to be his last.

He comes to stand behind you, wrapping his arms around and pressing into you so you have to land your hands on the island counter in front. He nestles in against your ear. 

“Thanks for trying though.” 

You look up at him over your shoulder, “Don’t underestimate me, Huang. There’s more.” 

“More?” His eyebrow quirks.

You nod and grab his hand to lead him into the living room. He follows suit, eventually flopping down on the leather sofa. 

“You didn’t have to do all this, Y/N.” 

“Shhh,” you dismiss him, "just no peeking, okay?” 

"I would never.” 

Renjun can't see, he's sitting there with his hands pressed against his face. 

You’re honestly starting to regret this whole thing. This wasn’t even your idea but it was Haechan’s suggestion to surprise your boyfriend with lingerie. Well, not exactly lingerie, he just told you to do ‘something sexy for him,’ and this was what you landed on.

Calling Haechan was a last resort, you were in a moment of crisis and panic about only having a week left to whip up your boyfriend a present. You were hoping your boyfriend may have mentioned something to his friends — but he hadn’t — so alas here you are. 

You’re saving this for last though. For now, you have his actual wrapped present for him to open, and you’re just praying he likes it. It’s hard to buy presents for a man who has almost everything. 

You set the wrapped present on the coffee table in front of him, and move to sit next to him, adjusting the black silk robe you put on this morning to hide his real surprise underneath. 

"Okay, you can look,” you finally tell him, watching his hands drop faster than you can blink but his eyes immediately get caught by the black smooth material riding up your skin. He starts raking his gaze over your thighs before bringing it to your face.

The black pupils in his eyes expand inside the brown, a slow pleased form of excitement tugging his mouth up at the corner to flash his teeth.

You’re anxious to see what he thinks of his gift, you just want him to unwrap it already so you can see his reaction. 

"Open your present," you whine at him taking too long. 

But Renjun’s more impatient than you. His fingers starting to toy with the drawstring of the robe around your waist, trying to tug at the knot there with a pout.

"But I want this one.” 

You push his eager hands away and he huffs, shoulders slumping as his gaze goes to the table with his bottom lip pushed out. 

"I’m sure you do," you tease, reaching over to pick up his present wrapped in patterned blue paper. 

"It’s sort of a silly present, but I thought you might like it,”  you explain, watching him trace his fingers over the wrapping paper with an amused smile. 

"I kinda don't wanna open it... it's wrapped so pretty.” 

"Please open it — the suspense is killing me.” 

His frantic skilled fingers discard the paper next to him as he tore it away. He then picks up the small leather book in his lap that's now exposed.  A bright, albeit kind of confused laugh bursts from him as he looks. 

“Flick through it,” you instruct, and he does. 

You bite your lip, watching him inspect it. It’s a scrapbook you managed to put together last minute. “Some of the pages are blank, figured we could fill it out together as we do more things.” 

"I love it" he butts in, looking at you with a grin as he keeps flicking through it.

He leans over to kiss you, but you press your finger against his lips to halt him, watching his brows twitch together as his lips pucker against your finger, "We went over this at Christmas, open your presents first or we'll be here all night — you can have a kiss once you're done."

In response to your rules, he slams the scrapbook closed, dropping it on the table. Then you’re being grabbed and yanked towards him so fast that you fumble into his lap. His hand grabs your thigh to hoist it up over him, so your knees sit on either side of his hips.

Everything is so fast; you barely have time to register it. His large hands are grasping at your jaw, while his fingers splay against your cheek until he's pushing his mouth against yours with a force that knocks oxygen clean out of you.

He's sucking in quick broken breaths through his nose, putting everything into the kiss that's harsh and tender all at once. His hands slip from your jaw into your hair, pulling you closer to him so your hands rest against his chest and you fist at the fabric. 

He tears his mouth away for the briefest moment. You’re staring at each other with eyes red and glossy. 

“So I take it you liked it?” you ask with a bite of your lip. 

He shakes his head while smiling before tugging you forward again. His tongue delving back past your lips, “Of course I fucking like it.” 

His hands drop from your hair to grope over your waist and hips to hold you against him. You haven’t even gotten to your last present for him yet and he’s already crippling with desire. 

Renjun keeps his mouth hovering close to yours,

"Like? No like isn’t the right word — it's not good enough," he manages between kisses, "I love it, I love you.”

"It’s not that amazing," you hush him as he paws at your back and tries to connect your mouths again. 

“Yes, it is, because you made it."

You hate (love) the way he’s always so sweet and reassuring. You know he does it for your reaction, to tease you and make your cheeks turn red. So, you try to escape him before he gets the chance to make a snarky remark about the blush on your cheeks. 

But attempting to lift yourself off of him causes him to immediately protest, digging his fingers into your skin through the silk as he tries to move his face to your neck to attack there instead.

You push at his chest, and he whines a pathetic sound that has your skin tingling, "Don't tease me baby please, don't be mean. It’s my birthday.”

"I'm not trying to tease you,” you shake your head, pulling back and shuffling off of him, but he won’t let you.

After a long battle, you mange to unclamp his stubborn hands while he stares at you with desperate puzzled eyes.

"Then stop moving and come here,” he tries to reach for you to pull you back down but you step away, moving further from the couch. 

His gaze darts from your feet to your face, wetting his lips while watching you intensely. You see him take his bottom lip between his teeth when you move your hands to the knot at the front of your robe and slowly start to slip it undone. 

His eyes flash wider and his fingers grip tighter around his knees where he's sat with his legs spread wide. You can feel nerves buzzing in your body, taking a coaxing breath as you lock your eyes with his.

"You ready to open your last present?"

The anticipation in the air is palpable, it's enough to have your fingers trembling with the way Renjun’s suspenseful gaze keeps locking on you. But the thing that’s making your heart surge the most is the emotion behind his eyes. 

You never do things like this. At least, you haven’t with Renjun. And even though he tells you every day that you’re so beautiful and so perfect, you can’t help but feel your nerves tighten. 

"You gonna show me what's under there?” Renjun encourages in a slow voice, full of rasp. You watch his chest jump with a breath when you grip the edges of the robe to pull it open.

He notices you hesitate, and his brows twitch together as he leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees, "Don't be nervous, ever. Not with me."

You compose yourself with his encouragement. But you still hold your breath as you let the robe start to slip from your shoulders, the silky fabric inching down as you open it until it hits the floor. Your heart hammers with every bit of skin being revealed as you stand there in a set of blue lingerie. 

It's like time stops. Renjun hasn't so much as taken a breath, eyes frozen on you, darting everywhere at once.

You start to tense up, but then he lets out a breath. He clears his throat a few times and opens his mouth to speak but nothing comes out; he just sits there with his mouth ajar. You glance up at him, feeling your heart accelerate and blood rush to your cheeks. On the other hand, it looks like Renjun’s brain has completely short-circuited.

Harnessing a surge of confidence from his reaction, you take a few steps to close the gap between the two of you. His eyes stay transfixed as they trace over every inch of blue decorating your body. You’re standing between his spread legs, and he falls back against the backrest of the couch with a slight thud.

"Do you like it?" You ask, keeping your voice quiet. 

"I - I, uh..." He swallows, then blinks once, twice, and then closes his eyes shaking his head like he can't concentrate, "Uh - fuck, I..."

"Everything okay, Jun?" You suppress a smile and watch as he takes a deep breath when his eyes drift open, and he smooths his hair away from his forehead.

"No, I'm not - what the fuck are you trying to do to me...baby," he stumbles over his words, taking you in with another once over like he can't believe it. Then he brings his hands up to hover near your hips. "So, this is what you finally came up with?"

You chew on your lip, face feeling hot from how flattered you feel over his reaction. You’re not sure what you expected, but you didn't expect him to be this well... stunned.

"I wanted to give you the best birthday,” you murmur, “so yeah, I bought it for you."

He breathes like the oxygen was kicked out of him, reaching for your hands and pulling you towards him until you’re perching a knee on either side of his hips and resting your limbs on his shoulders.

His hands hover near your hips again and trace down over your thighs, but he doesn't touch them — not yet anyway. 

"I don't even think I deserve to touch you in this."

"Don’t say that. Haechan thought this would be a good idea," you tell him, feeling his hands finally settle on your thighs and watching his eyes flash wider as his jaw clenches.

Yep. That was the total wrong thing to say to him right now.

You wait for Renjun to blow a blood vessel in his forehead, but instead, his eyes go down to your cleavage under the blue mesh of your bra and he takes in a slow breath.

"This is what she talks to my friends about?" he mutters to himself, and you try so hard not to crack a smile.

His gaze drifts up to yours again, and he swallows; moving his hands up your thighs to feel his palms over the straps and garters enriching your skin before his jaw softens. 

"Well... look at it this way" you coax him, keeping your tone gentle whilst you smooth your hands over his shoulders to rest against his neck, "You're the only one that gets to take this off of me.” 

Your words have your boyfriend lifting his brows, and sucking his lower lip under his teeth and that old bothered look melts away to a much more pleased one, "Just me?"

"Only you," you nod, feeling his fingers press harder into the skin of your hips when he rests his hands there.

"Forever?"

“Always.”

He wets his lips, leaning in more so your noses nearly touch and his rough voice whispers into the air between you, "Can I tell you a secret?"

You can only manage a nod, chest tight from how the atmosphere feels like it's strangling you. There is such an intense feeling, because he's looking at you with hungry eyes that also look flooded with heart crippling love.

His hands move from your hips to trace his fingertips up your back, “You’re the first girl who’s ever done something like this for me.” 

He trails off to brush his nose against yours, before nudging it against your cheek and keeping his lips just out of reach. You feel your eyes start to burn, that lump lodging in your throat as you exhale a shaky breath. 

"I’m so fucking obsessed with you, Y/N. You just wouldn’t believe it," his fingers ghost back down your back, and he keeps his stare on yours.

"Please shut up and kiss me," you burst your words out in a single breath, gripping the sides of his neck to tug him towards you and connect with his lips. 

It's like a rupture of pressure as soon as your mouths touch, and Renjun sucks in a sharp gasp through his nose; attacking your lips with his in a kiss that's desperate and frantic.

His hands go straight to your now bare ass, that's only covered by two measly straps of the lingerie, and grips it. He starts hoisting you up, your arms clinging around his shoulders as tight as your thighs wrap around his hips. He blindly makes his way towards your bedroom, trying his hardest not to trip over his own feet or walk into something with you around him. 

Both of your lungs are trying to suck in the air but become nothing but a ball of gasps and pants mixed with shaky breaths and trembling limbs. 

He manages to make it into your dim bedroom when he urges your thighs down until your feet hit the ground and he's the one that drops down to sit on the edge of the bed. You stand in front of him, weak at the knees and cloudy in the brain with blood rushing through your body like fire.

Renjun stares up at you, his cheeks tinted with the flush that's crept down his neck to match the cherry colour of his raw lips. You move towards him. It’s like you have a magnet in your chest tugging at you with all its force to get you closer to him.

"Turn for me. I wanna get a proper look at you — see how lucky I am,” he rasps out of breath, and the deep gravelly sound leaving him makes your spine shiver.

His hands on your hips urge you to spin around. You’re not sure how your legs are able to withstand it considering how jelly-like they feel. 

"I’m the luckiest man alive...God fuckin help me,” he whispers to himself and you can’t help but allow your whole body to erupt in goosebumps when his eyes burn into every part of your skin. 

He’s lust drunk on you. 

Renjun’s hands come up, going to the blue material hiding your chest from him. He begins letting his fingers follow the edges of it, teasing his digits over your perked nipples. He continues going down and repeating his brushing over the garter belt and panties, taking in each detail like he never wants to forget it. 

"I kinda don't wanna open it... you're wrapped so pretty," he murmurs, looking up to catch your eyes and mimicking his earlier words.

Your hands are shaking from the tension in the air. His knuckles graze against the front of your underwear, making your breath hitch in your throat. He drags his tongue across his lower lip, sliding his palms down the front of your thighs. 

“I don’t think I have enough words to thank you for today. But I think I can show you.” 

You can't take this anymore, and before you can think twice you rush forward, leaning down to grasp his face and clamber on top of him. You kiss him as hard as you can, the force making him fall backwards as his shoulders hit the mattress with a bounce. 

He only gives you a few seconds before he's flipping you. Climbing over you and ushering you further up the bed. When his lips detach from yours, Renjun pushes himself up onto his knees to look down at you perched between his legs.

His chest is heaving, hair all over the place with random strands dangling in front of his forehead. He moves his hands to throw off his t-shirt. You get drunk off the sight of him when he focuses on getting his pyjama bottoms off. 

He drops forward as soon as his legs are free, his large hands dipping into the bed next to your waist with your legs bent on either side of his shoulders. He turns his head to leave a trail of heated wet open kisses up your skin that makes your centre throb.

Every action feels heightened, so intense but gentle. His movements are heated but careful like he's trying to fuck your heart but love your body at the same time.

Your hands move to his hair, stroking through it as he moves his mouth to your other thigh, paying it the same attention. You gasp when he takes the strap from your garter between his teeth to let it snap back against your skin.

"Jun please..." you sigh in a wavering breath. 

"Okay baby" he hushes against your skin, moving his hands to grip the hem of your underwear sitting over the top of the garter, "Gonna be so good to you. Make you feel how I do."

You hold your breath when you feel him gently start to tug it down your hips. His eyes focus on his hands dragging the material down your thighs like he's savouring the moment. Then he’s sitting up on his knees again to lift your legs and remove your underwear completely.

He dangles the blue fabric on his fingertip, raising a cheeky brow at you, "Think I might keep these."

"Don't you dare,” you burst out laughing, swatting at his hand as he giggles to himself.

He drops the underwear next to you on the bed, moving his hands to slip under your back. You arch to help him while he feels around and uses his fingers to unclasp your bra. His gaze is admiring, watching it slip off your arms.

"Definitely keeping this too.” 

You roll your eyes, grinning to yourself. But that smile is quickly wiped away when his eyes lock on your face and one hand takes your thigh to push it against the bed and spread your legs further apart. He drags his fingers up your slit; tracing through the warmth and arousal that had already soaked into the fabric he'd since removed.

Your mouth falls open at the same time his brows pinch hard together, his jaw clenched as he lets his gaze momentarily flick down to his fingers exploring your cunt.

Your hips buck up when he focuses his fingertips against the sensitive nerves, making you feel like your clit has its own heartbeat as jolts of pleasure shoot through you. Renjun leans forward to rest his hand next to your head, dipping his mouth down to latch it around your nipple, nipping and sucking against it.

"Oh-, fuck,” you hiss curving your chest up as your hips start to squirm. He traces slow lazy patterns against your clit, "Renjun - please, don't tease me - just, fuck I need—"

Your words are cut short when he applies more pressure to your nerves, massaging leg-numbing patterns against you while his teeth give your nipple a gentle tug before he moves to the other one to pay it the same attention. You gasp at the cold air that hits the bud.

"Tell me how it feels," he mumbles against your flesh when he moves his mouth to drag his lips between your cleavage, "I wanna know how you feel right now, tell me."

Like your vagina is about to scream in agony if he doesn’t hurry up and fuck you.

"S-So good," you manage to pant out, squeezing your eyes closed as your hips rut against his fingers when he dips them down to slip through your dripping centre to tease at your hole. "It’s amazing b-but I'm going to explode if you keep teas-"

Renjun shakes his head, flicking his eyes up to stare at you under his lashes when he licks a wet stripe up between your breasts. 

“No, I wanna know how you feel-" his lips press against the skin over your heart, "-tell me how you feel about me."

You choke on a moan when he dips his fingers down inside your pussy at your silence, sinking his middle and ring finger deep as his hot forehead drops against your chest. 

"Tell me,” He groans, voice low dropping deeper as he relishes your gripping around his fingers, "please."

"I feel- it feels like - uh, god I feel —" you whimper when he curls his fingers, massaging inside of you at that pressure point that makes your stomach quiver. "I l-love y-you."

It comes out as rambling. You’re stuttering like a mindless lunatic — but the one thing you're sure of is that it’s the truth. 

Your barely coherent words make Renjun still his fingers, sucking in a heavy broken breath when he lifts his face to seal his mouth against yours. His hand grabs hold of your thigh to hook it around his hip as he shifts closer until you feel the weight of his warm length heavy against your pubic bone. 

"I fucking love you too," he pants out against your lips, his voice thick and strained, "So fucking much I don’t think I’ll ever be able to stop."

You roll your hips up against him, threading your fingers into his hair, "I don’t want you to ever stop — I want you to fuck me, please fuck me."

The tight knot in your lower half feels like torture at this point as his fingers are still working slow. He hushes you when he sees the distraught look on your face and hears the muffled whines from you as his motions become very still.

"Shhhh," his hips lift back as his hand wraps around the base of his length. He teases it up and down your drenched folds, "I'm not gonna stop - I just - I don't wanna fuck you... it's not the right word. It's more than that. Need you to feel that it’s more than that.” 

He applies pressure with his tip against your pussy, holding his weight up on his elbow next to you so he can tilt his head up and watch your face. His heavy glazed eyes locked on yours with his brows hooded over them. 

"Please keep looking at me."

You fight to stop your eyes from fluttering shut, staying captivated by the way his pink lips part and the way they twitch to verbalise a silent moan when he inches forward a fraction to feel his tip slip past the threshold and into you.

Your brows are scrunched together in pleasure, fighting to keep your hips still as the moment feels paralysing. 

He pushes forward in a slow savouring motion. When he finally sinks into you completely, you stretch around him. His teeth suck in his lower lip between them, while a low skin-tingling moan echoes from deep in his chest as he stays still.

"Wrap your legs around me - I wanna be closer."

You do as he asks, tightening your thighs around his hips and resting the heels of your feet against his own thighs. You feel him sink even deeper and you watch the veins in his neck strain at the feeling.

"Please move" you beg, barely able to get the whisper out. 

Renjun struggles to keep his breathing even as he watches your face, slowly drawing his hips back, wrecking you as he rolls his hips forward in a motion to fill you again.

Your fingers tighten in his hair when your hips come up to meet his. He starts in a slow drawn-out rhythm, panting out a soft groan.

Your eyes threaten to drift closed again, the blissful feeling enveloping all of your limbs too much to stay conscious. Renjun ducks his face down, attaching his mouth to yours and you moan into the kiss which elicits a stomach-knotting whine from him.

Before you know what's going on, Renjun is rolling you, turning on his side with you facing him and taking hold of your leg to hook it over his hips. His other arm wraps under your waist and around your back. His hand reaches between you, grasping his length and placing it at your opening before he thrusts into you again making you cry out at the feeling from this angle.

He keeps you hugged close to him, connecting you with him in long deep strokes while his hand comes up to tangle in your hair and he presses his forehead against yours. 

"Stay with me" he pleads, "Keep looking at me. Look at how you make me feel."

You can only respond with a gasp that hitches in your throat when he buries himself into you as deep as he can, rolling himself against you as your nails dig into the skin of his back. 

His hand slips from your hair for a brief moment, to reach and grab for your hand which he guides down to the spot between your legs. You take the hint; letting your fingers find your throbbing clit and work towards unravelling the tightness in your abdomen.

"Oh- god, shit,” you whimper, shocked by the combination of all the sensations consuming your body. Your hips start to writhe at the feeling.

"That's it baby - you make me feel so fuckin good, I want you to feel it too," he pants, forehead slick with sweat while both your bodies feel like they're burning and his thrusts start to build with more purpose. He’s fucking into you at an erotic speed as if he's trying to spill out every feeling he has with his body.

Your stomach starts to tremble as warmth floods your lower half, and your muscles start to contract and flutter around him. It only encourages him to slow down the rhythm to drag out the feeling to a point you don't know how to handle.

You can feel him being swallowed inside of you with each thrust as your fingers slip down to where you’re joined. You toy with your clit helping your body reach a point where it’s trembling over the edge. 

Renjun finally caves, moving his face to bury against your neck, when your walls contract around him and your hips roll with his. 

"Fuck, Y/N".

His breathing gets even more ragged as every muscle in his body becomes tense with his movements. He begs muffled words against your skin; tightening his arm around you like he somehow needs you closer.

"Tell me you love me again.” 

You manage to stutter out a breathless "I love you,” heaving out the air in your lungs as you work your fingers faster and Renjun fucks you further in love with him — if that’s possible. 

"No, say you love me. Say my name, Y/N," he groans, pulling his hips back only to thrust them forward so deep you cry out. 

You rack your nails down his skin while your leg tightens around his hip to pull him closer. 

“I love you, Renjun. So fucking much.” 

His thrusts become more abrupt at your words. "That's my girl" he rasps. 

When he feels you tipping over the edge his thrusts quicken at animalistic speed. "Go on baby - cum - let me feel it."

You couldn't stop it even if you tried — you wouldn’t. 

You let out a scream from the back of your throat at the force of him and chant out a string of mumbles of his name. Your body convulses and shakes whilst you clamp around his length to which Renjun grunts at the feeling, whispering praises to coax you through it.

"Always so good for me — fuck!" His sentence gets cut short with a loud growl that sounds like it was punched out of him. His rhythm falters as he clings to you and sobs out moans against your neck.

He snaps his hips forward and sinks into you to grind his hips against you to linger in the feeling. His muscles shuddering and jolting as he gasps for air and his own orgasm punches into him. 

Hearing and feeling him in so much bliss is only dragging out the aftershocks of your own orgasm. You’re both a mess of limbs and shameless noises before you feel him still completely. His release erupts into you in warm spurts, his body twitching with each one.

You’re like a limp puddle, but Renjun stays clung to you, sucking in harsh breaths not daring to move and keeping your sweaty bodies tangled.

"Fuck, if not knowing what I want for my birthday means I get to have you like this, I never want anything ever again," he rasps, laughing under his breath and sounding delirious.

You can only hum in response, your mind too fucked out to even respond. 

You lay wrapped up in each other, and you know you need to get cleaned up, but you honestly can't be bothered. Enjoying the post-orgasmic pleasure too much. 

"Happy fucking birthday to me!”  he drawls, finally letting his face fall flush against the pillow.

[batfamtv]

“i’m a man now”

ethan landry x fem!reader (reader in her 20s)

warnings: age gap (ethan is 18, reader is in her 20s), power dynamics, mommy kink, no sex

a/n: based on this tiktok that awakened something in me

—

ethan usually hangs out at your place now, ever since you moved out he would just invite himself over. he even has some clothes there, and his parents trust you so much that they would even let you know that he’s coming over. so when you get home to find quinn, tara, chad, and mindy there on ethan’s birthday, along boxes of pizza and several cans of beer, you’re not too surprised. of course he was gonna celebrate it here, and you have to apologize to him too because the game console you ordered for him isn’t arriving today.

sam is hurriedly pulling them out now, turning to you with an exasperated smile. “hey y/n,” she greets, “just taking these kids home.”

“drive safe!” you wave at them as you lock the door behind you, now thinking about how you’re sure you’re gonna take care of your own drunk little ethan. you find him seated on the couch, his temple resting on his fist as he leans on the side of it, watching you.

“had a fun party?” you ask, plopping down next to him.

he doesn’t say anything, just smiles at you. he leans closer, and you know that he’ll start to get all cuddly, like he always is whenever he’s drunk.

but before you can process it, you feel his lips on yours. they’re soft and inexperienced, but when you don’t move, ethan moves closer and kisses you more, now getting your lips to open against him. you hear him groan, feeling your lips wet from his saliva.

“ethan,” you pull away from him, still in shock. this boy just…kissed you. the same one you babysat all those years ago. if you remember even further back, you also remember playing with him before you hit your teenage years.

he smiles at you dreamily, licking his lips, “i’ve wanted to do that since i was 13.” he gaze moves to your lips, and before he can dive back in, you stand up.

“no,” you tell him, “you’re drunk. get some rest and we’ll talk about this in the morning.”

strong hands grab your waist, making you stand between his thighs. the look ethan gives you is almost sinful…lustful. he’s so tall and even in this position, with you standing in front of him, he only needs to tilt his head back a little. “i didn’t drink anything,” he whispers. hot, heavy breaths making your nipples pebbles underneath your shirt. his hands now fly to your tits, groping them.

“fuck,” you close your eyes, trying not to moan as his thumbs graze your nipples.

“fuck,” ethan inhales, pupils dilated that his eyes almost look completely black, before he stands up and grabs you into a kiss.

your surprised gasp gives him the opportunity to slide his tongue inside.

ethan moans when his tongue touches yours, flicking around your mouth desperately. he ruts his hardened cock against your stomach, and you moan at the feel of his jeans and his bulge against you. knowing that he’s so tall his cock is grinding against your tummy.

he slips his hands under your shirt, moaning into your mouth when he feels your tits. he breaks away from you.

“i wanna suck on your tits, momma,” ethan whispers, “will you let me suck on your titties?”

your hand cups his bulge, and he whimpers into your mouth.

“let’s go to the bedroom,” you tell him, “and you can suck on my tits all your like.”

his cock twitches against your hand and he pulls you towards the bedroom.

—

ik im gonna get flamed for this hence why i used this account i havent opened in forever lol

[greg-montgomery]

any other world - part 2

Aaron Hotchner x Fem!Reader - soulmate au

series masterlist

A/N: there’s no cheating in this story i promise

this chapter is nsfw! minors pls dni

(21)

The sound of another thunder startled you and almost caused you to spill red wine all over the place as you emptied the bottle inside your glass.

Aaron had big plans for that night, fancy restaurant and everything, but the heavy thunderstorm left you no choice but to stay in. You genuinely didn’t mind. You loved nights in with him, feeling like he was only for you.

Full from the pizza you had made earlier, he was laying on the floor with his head on your lap, staring up at you with a drunken smile. You took a big sip from your glass and ran your finger across his face, starting from his forehead, going down his nose and reaching his lips.

He grabbed your hand and brought your wrist to his lips, and as if he was some kind of vampire he bit your wrist. “I wish I could just chew these two letters up and spit them out,” he said, referring to the initials of your own soulmate.

“Can you chew up yours too while you’re at it?”

Aaron reached his hand up to your face and rubbed his thumb on your cheek. “Do you ever get jealous of her?”

“All the time.”

“I’m jealous of the bastard you haven’t even met yet too.”

You grinned at his words, and the gentle stroke on the side of your face turned into a grab of your chin. “You enjoy that, don’t you?” he asked.

“Mhm…” you said, nodding.

He sat up and brought his face close to yours, staring at your lips. “Torturing me…ever since I can remember us.”

“Aw, my poor boy…” you cooed, and gave him a sweet kiss. Already dizzy - a little from the wine and a little from Aaron’s mouth on you - you accidentally spilled what was left in your glass on his shirt.

“Shit, sorry!”

“The lengths you go to just to see me shirtless...” he said, shaking his head in disapproval before taking his shirt off.

You giggled and threw yourself into his arms, quietly begging for another kiss. He was more than happy to give it to you.

“Can I take you here, on the floor?” he whispered.

“Please.”

He gently laid you down and you observed him, letting him undress you and himself.

Growing a bit possessive of him after the events of that year wasn’t something you could really blame yourself for. Staring at him and seeing that deep desire in his eyes made you feel good about yourself. You were the one he wanted so desperately to see naked, you were the one making him hard, you were the one that would make him feel good.

But you weren’t the only one growing possessive. Ever since your own mark had appeared, Aaron was leaving marks all over your body as if it was a competition. Yes you had another man’s initials on your wrist, but it was Aaron’s mouth that had touched every part of your body, and those marks were the evidence.

You wrapped your legs around him and let him fuck you slowly, welcoming every word of praise he would give you.

“You take me so well.”

“Fuck you feel good.”

“Made for me, weren’t you?”

You could swear that sometimes his voice felt as good as his cock.

--

(22)

“Aaron!”

A familiar voice stopped him from walking into the bookshop he had his eye on. The girl had raised her hand to catch his attention, in case her calling out his name wasn’t enough. Her excited smile made him almost sad, so he put on a happy smile to match her energy.

“Haley…I haven’t seen you in a while. How you’ve been?”

“I’m good! Just got a new job, so I’m spending my first paycheck as a reward,” she laughed, and showed him the bags she was holding.

Aaron couldn’t help but laugh with her. “Well, no better feeling, is there?”

“Nope.” Her smile met her eyes. “How are you?” she asked.

“Good. Shopping as well,” he answered, hesitating to get into more details. Maybe it would be hurtful to tell her he was shopping for his girlfriend’s birthday.

Haley had been really understanding and respectful of his feelings, and he didn’t want to hurt hers any further than he already had.

“Books?” she asked, pointing at the bookshop they were standing outside of.

“Yeah.”

“Mind if I join you?”

--

[11.59 pm]

Your phone was in your hand, waiting for your boyfriend to call. He’d call you and sing happy birthday in a very dramatic and very off key tone exactly at midnight, and right after he’d show up with an equally dramatic bouquet of flowers.

It had been a tradition for eight years now and even though you teased him for being too much, you loved that kind of attention on your special day. He never failed to make you feel like a princess.

But then midnight hit, and your phone didn’t ring. Not five minutes later, not ten, not even fifteen.

At exactly 12.30 am, your doorbell rang instead.

Aaron was hiding behind a huge bouquet of roses.

It was just thirty minutes. It was just the half of an hour. It isn’t important. It doesn’t mean anything.

You kept repeating that to yourself when he apologized for being late, for breaking the tradition, for getting you worried. You repeated it when he gave you a first edition of your favorite book. You repeated it when he hugged you, and the scent of another woman’s perfume on his coat made your stomach drop.

--

(45)

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Aaron hadn’t heard your voice in such a long time, that you talking to him would have melted him entirely if it wasn’t for the context of your words. Were you in danger?

He opened his mouth but his voice wouldn’t come out.

“Can we come in?” you asked, your own voice trembling.

We?

His eyes travelled down your body and they caught something moving under your long coat. A tiny arm was wrapped around your leg and a pair of beautiful eyes that looked just like yours looked up at him.

“Of course,” he finally answered.

He stepped aside and made room so you could walk inside his house. You took the hand of the little girl that was attached to your body and entered his home.

A burning feeling of protectiveness took over his chest. If someone had hurt the two of you, he would make sure they’d never see the light of the day again.

He checked the hallway for any suspicious movement and after making sure it was safe, he followed you into the house and locked his door.

“Y/N,” he said, but you raised your hand to cut him off.

“I’ll explain everything. We’re fine. I just…I needed a safe place…and some legal advice.”

“Who are you hiding from?”

“My husband. Ex-husband.”

His blood boiled. If that man had laid a hand on you or your daughter he would burn him alive.

“Are you alone?” you asked.

“Yeah. It’s just me and my son. He’s sleeping.”

A sweet expression appeared on your face at the mention of his son. He could relate to the feeling of seeing the person you grew up with being a parent.

You were kids just yesterday. And now you had your own.

Your little girl was looking up at him, with an intimidated expression. He was aware that his large frame and angry eyebrows could maybe scare a kid. So he walked closer, squatted down and smiled at her.

“Hello, little one.”

She waved instead of replying, but that was enough for him. She seemed more shy that scared.

“I’m Hotch. What’s your name?” he asked, gently.

“Leila.”

Aaron looked up at you, and found you already staring at him. He knew that the same memory of the two of you planning your future had flashed in front of your eyes.

“Nice to meet you Leila. You’re safe here with me, okay?”

She nodded her head a few times. “Okay. Mommy said you are best friends.”

“We are,” he answered, without a second thought.

tag list: @magical-spit @lilsunshine1092 @hiraethrhapsody @cult-of-enji-todoroki @emo-markie @jxvipike @ttokkisbee @geminitapestry @rae-pottah @the-night-viewer @i-am-funsize @louderfortheback @hasu-ko @rousethemouse @hotchs-bitch

[muschiettistrashmouth]

Heat Wave | Piotr Rasputin (X-MEN)

Note: Hello There! It's almost my birthday so, yay, happy birthday to me! This is the part one of the smut I'm trying to write, but I have a damn writers block right now, so... Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Some swear words and smut. 18+, if you´re a minor please don't interact.

Words: 1245

A heat wave started to take over the city just as Storm was on mission and couldn’t be there to help cool down the x mansion with her powers. The classes were suspended because no one could concentrate and the fans weren’t handling the job very well.

Bobby created an ice rink for the young kids to play and managed to cool the pool water so other kids could play there, but the sun was too warm to be outside for too long.

The teachers were giving juices and popsicles to everyone that wanted, and the older kids, such as you, Piotr, Rogue and Kitty, were helping entertain the kids that weren’t in the pool or the ice rink.

You got the garden hose and started to wet everyone with it, to see if it helped a little bit. 

There were kids laughing hard when you managed to hit them with the water, you were following them with the hose until one kid hid behind Piotr and you managed to hit him with the cold water, making him yelp.

“Oh gods, I’m so sorry, Pi!” You laughed seeing the other mutant drenched.

He turned to you, a mischievous look in his face.

“You’ll pay for that, дорогой (dear).” He stated, smiling.

You liked him more than a friend, but never had the courage to tell him this, so hearing him talk like this, wow. You had to hold not to bite your damn lips.

“Only if you catch me.” You gave him the tongue and started running away as he ran after you, both laughing as if you had five years.

Professor X was looking out for the kids, even he had light clothes on, as you and Piotr ran past him. As you still held the hose, you ended up getting the Professor all drenched too.

He spat the water that entered his mouth when you drenched him, a little confused at what had happened.

“Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry, Professor!” You stopped running but Piotr didn’t have the same luck as he saw you stopped too late, the russian boy ended up knocking you down with his massive body. Thank the mutant gods he was in his human form at the moment.

“It’s okay, my dear.” The professor grinned at the scene before him. “Careful not to hurt yourselves.”

 The hose fell with its tip up, making it “rain” on top of you two as you looked at Piotr’s face. He was looking back at you, his face so close you could almost feel his breath.

“...Hi” He smirked.

“Hi.” You mirrored his expression.

He got closer, his nose touching yours. You closed your eyes as he finally closed the distance between your lips and kissed you sweetly. It was almost a dream coming true that he was finally kissing you for real.

Jean, who was watching the scene behind Charles, smiled at that, she remembered her first kiss with Scott. She was a teacher, but she was the cool kind of teacher, the one that was a friend. She knew how much you daydreamed about that kiss. 

Bobby threw a snowball on Piotr’s head, making you laugh when he got away from your lips.

“Just a second.” He said, his russian accent thicker as he got up and ran after Bobby to throw a snowball at him too.

You sat on the ground as they ran, laughing at how childish that was. Once Piotr finally managed to hit Bobby with a snowball he ran towards you again and held his hand out to help you up.

—

As the night came by, the heat was still present, but the kids were all sleepy from the amount of activities they had that afternoon. Everyone had pizza for dinner and ice cream for dessert. 

As soon as everyone went to bed, you heard a knock on your door.

You got up to see who it was, smiling as you saw Piotr there with a yellow flower in hand. You knew it was a flower from Professor’s garden, making you smile widely at that and letting him come into the room.

He was wearing only shorts in that heat, as you were wearing your shortest pajamas. He bit his lip as he saw you in it.

“To what do I owe the honor of your visit?”

“I couldn’t stop thinking about you…” He admitted, holding the flower out to you.

You took the flower with a smile on your lips and put it on your nightstand.

Piotr hugged you lightly, lowering his face to kiss your lips again. That wasn’t the best position since he was so much taller than you, so he held your hips and pulled you up, making your legs close around his waist.

You were hungrily kissing each other as he walked to your bed backwards, falling butt first in it and not stopping the kiss. Now you were sitting on his lap. You couldn’t deny how wet you were getting from just a kiss, but you could feel him under your lap and he was definitely hard. 

You couldn’t help how you were squirming in his lap, he was getting impossibly hard beneath you and it was making you so needy. 

“Careful, darling, you don’t want to start something you won’t be able to finish…” 

“I need it, please.” You pouted at him.

He laughed quietly and gave you a quick kiss on your lips again before you got out of his lap to kneel in front of him.

Your hands went to his shorts, pulling them down with his underwear, his dick popped up from the clothes and your eyes widened. He was huge. 

“Fuck-” You licked your lips looking at him.

He smiled at that, his eyes were almost closed with lust.

You licked the underside of his dick, making him moan lightly at that, and you put the tip of his dick inside your mouth. His dick was so big it was stretching your lips so good. 

Looking up at his face through your lashes, you started to suck his length, your eyes were sparkling with lust. 

Piotr grabbed her hair with his right hand, pulling it slightly with each movement of her mouth. The older mutant was moaning softly so as not to wake anyone, biting his lips, staring at her.

 "Fuck..." Piotr cursed.

 The girl relaxed her throat, enveloping him until he touched the back of her throat, but it was not even close to the full length of his cock. With what was outside of her mouth, she masturbated him with her hand.

 "Y/N..." Piotr called her with some urgency. “I’m almost-”

She smiled around him, sucking him even harder so he could cum in her mouth.

It didn’t take long for him to moan loudly and his back to hit the mattress, cumming deep down her throat.

She smiled, her chin was dirty with his cum that she hadn’t been able to swallow.

“Fuck.” Colossus ran his hands over his face before sitting back on the bed, looking at her with desire. “Come here.”

When she got up to sit on his lap, a loud noise was heard. It was one of the children screaming.

They both stared at each other, Piotr put his shorts back on and she wiped her face with her shirt, running out of the room, he was just behind her. The house was being invaded by Stryker’s henchmen.

[silantryoo]

BONUS [ LIKEALOOK ] — it all falls down

jang wonyoung and kim jiwon's dorm. 3:47 pm.

WARNINGS; blood, graphic depictions of physical violence, slut shaming, threats, trust issues, implied mental breakdown, effects of gaslighting, victim blaming (towards self) (4.8k)

from an early age, naoi rei knew that love wasn't for her.

she saw the decorative hearts scattered all over her elementary school as her peers fawned over their crushes. the chocolates that hid behind heart-shaped boxes taunted the young naoi as she listened to her friends' relationship woes.

everywhere she turned, love seemed to consume all those who stood in its vicinity. her parents would mindlessly hum their wedding song under their breath. her music teacher's desk littered with all her students' drawings, except for a portrait of her husband.

love consumed everyone's time. everyone's effort.

it didn't consume rei, not directly.

rei knew her parents loved her. they would go out of their way to go to her recitals and take her shopping when she needed new clothes. they even funded all of rei's (very expensive) expenses when it came to art.

they were perfect on paper, and if rei was any other person, it would've been enough.

on her fifth birthday, they had spent one out of the twenty-four hours of the day with her. the one hour consisted of eating together, and a small, thirty-minute gift session where rei had opened about ten gifts or so.

later, they would leave to stay at a hotel on their one day off. they would drop the five-year-old at her grandma's flower shop, named after rei's mother.

on christmas when she was seven years old, rei woke up in a quiet house. the silence was deafening, and all the young naoi could remember that day was the pile of presents she opened by herself.

the seven-year-old would find out later that her parents had left her home to grab a christmas breakfast.

the day she had left to go to korea, rei had been asked one question during the entire car ride before her parents had rushed off. she then boarded the plane, first class, watching as her two check-in luggages were being brought onto the airplane.

she'd never tell them, but she wanted them to miss their reservation, just this once. just so they could hug her goodbye.

somehow, rei had become a side character in her own life, watching as everyone paid no attention to her. she knew that if she were to get erased from her own family, they wouldn't even notice. it hurt her that they wouldn't have cared.

(rei's family hadn't checked up on her since she landed.)

rei was bitter when it came to love.

she hated how she couldn't appreciate her parents' efforts because of it, and how she always questioned if she was alive out of coincidence and not want.

still, rei couldn't help but become fascinated with it.

she wondered why so many people would throw logic aside for someone who had the power to break them. she couldn't comprehend how love was able to blindside so many people.

love was an emotion. one that made her fade away.

her mind was made as soon as she stepped onto korean soil. she wouldn't bother with anything that came with the emotion, not even if her neighbor was clearly in love with one of her friends.

they weren't her friends anyway. why should she care?

"you're the girl my mom was talking about. the one that lives in the apartment across from us." rei could remember seeing the tall girl glare from behind her neighbor, almost trying to shoo her away. "i'm not sure if you saw me around before. i just staying here for the summer."

her hair was so long back then.

"my name's kim gaeul."

"i'm naoi rei."

rei had friends before.

they were all boy-crazy, hiding makeup in their drawers instead of pencils to impress their crush of the month. like her parents, they had never asked about her interests or hobbies, but rei knew almost everything about them. she could read them like the back of her hand.

she knew it was gonna be the same.

(it wasn't.)

"you like hawaiian pizza, right?" jang wonyoung, whom gaeul had introduced a month ago (alongside ahn yujin), scrolled through her phone as the other two were off somewhere in the kim residence. "i ordered some, but just so you know, yujin-unnie's gonna make fun of you."

rei had mentioned it once, offhandedly a week or two ago. she didn't know how wonyoung cared enough to remember. yujin, on the other hand, would've been too busy with gaeul to care. sometimes, rei wondered if yujin even noticed her presence.

it wouldn't have been the first time someone had forgotten about her.

"what the hell?" yujin said as she dug through the boxes. the aroma of freshly baked pizza wafted the entire house. "rei ordered these, didn't she?"

"leave her alone, yujin."

yujin laughed at the younger girl with an arm wrapped around gaeul. her cheeks were bright red, teasing the japanese for liking something so obscure (in her mind, at least). rei watched the three koreans closely, wonyoung and gaeul trying to defend her from the onslaught of yujin's comments.

each comment was directed at her. each smug grin, each teasing look. yujin had remembered, and so had gaeul, and so had wonyoung.

they could see her. they wanted to see her, despite the love that they held for someone else.

love was an emotion, not a blindfold.

for once, naoi rei didn't mind being the side character, and she would do everything in her power to make them happy, to make her family happy. she knew that one day, when the time came, they wouldn't forget her.

rei hated it, being forgotten (yet somehow, she hated the thought of ripping two people apart).

rei didn't understand love, but she knew that she wished her friends would find it.

(but somehow, it also found her.)

"who's trying to break down the door?"

wonyoung looked at the shaking door, partially terrified that whoever (read: rei) would somehow knock it wide open with just her fist.

as much as she loved rei, wonyoung refused to let the japanese girl anywhere near or inside her dorm when jiwon was around. rei had yet to give the true happenings of what went down that night with jiwon, but she could tell it was bad.

finding the young kim crying in her bed was a weird role reverse at first, but wonyoung knew how it felt like. she knew how painful it was to love someone but not have them.

"it's no one."

the banging continued, somehow getting harsher and louder with every passing second.

if there was one thing that naoi rei was good at, it was persistence.

"maybe it's yuri-unnie." jiwon muttered, rubbing her now scabbed knuckles. "she did text me this morning asking if i was okay... i think she wanted me to help her jump minjeong-unnie."

jiwon had gotten a phone call earlier that morning. from what she could tell, the sun was just starting to rise, and from the way yuri's voice had sounded, the older girl had stayed up all night.

("we don't have to tell minju. i'm sure she wouldn't mind anyways.")

jiwon could only hope that yuri hadn't gone through with her ten-step plan.

"why would yuri-unnie want to jump minjeong-sunbaenim?"

the two stared at each other, blank faces as gears turned in their heads.

"i'm gonna open the door now." jiwon stated, moving towards the entrance. she needed any way out of the conversation, even if she ended up trying to talk someone out of a potential assault charge.

the door continued to rattle under rei's fist, and she prayed that whatever happened to jiwon was minor. she hoped that the girl she hurt wasn't in pain.

the door swung open, a sense of relief washing over the japanese girl as the kim stood in front of her.

love wasn't for rei.

she was the side character, the girl who set up her friends with their exes, the mastermind behind everything. she was the girl everyone ran to, and everyone forgot when the time came. she was a plot device.

"rei?"

naoi rei didn't want to be a plot device anymore. she wanted love to want her, just like she wanted her parents to love her.

the japanese girl looked at jiwon in front of her, the latter cradling her hand. her knuckles were a blush red, forming uneven marks around the peaks. rei could see the small scabs starting to form at the tips of her first two knuckles, and the swollen bump on the back of jiwon's hand.

it looked like it hurt, and somehow, in some way, it upset rei.

rei ushered the taller girl onto her bed, ignoring the questioning stares that came from the others. she'd deal with them later. jiwon was hurt, and that was rei's priority.

wonyoung stood at the doorway, eyeing the two.

"you'd think she's the one with the wrist brace and first aid kit," yujin snickered.

she wondered if rei knew what she was doing, what she was feeling. she should've by now. the glint in her eye was enough for anyone to know.

gaeul rolled her eyes at her girlfriend. "i think it's nice that she's worried."

she just hoped rei could deal with the heartbreak that came with it.

sighing, wonyoung gestured for the two older girls to come inside. she pushed aside a foreboding feeling in her chest, disregarding all the signs that something was wrong. it was just the thermostat, anyway. jiwon always liked to turn it up when she felt overwhelmed.

as the volleyball player began to shut the door, her eyes focused on the sliver of light that peaked into the hallway.

a gray sweater. y/n's gray sweater.

wonyoung swung the door open almost immediately.

"y/n."

with a small nod, y/n smiled.

something was wrong.

y/n's eyes were bloodshot red, the thin red veins popping against the whites of her eyes. her cheeks were red from crying, wonyoung deducted. if she looked any harder, wonyoung was sure to see the dried streaks of tears on the older girl's cheeks. it was a normal site of a sad y/n, at least from what wonyoung could remember.

but there was something in her eyes. something that unsettled wonyoung.

why did it seem so familiar?

"is jiwon okay?" y/n's voice cracked out, clearing her throat in embarrassment.

wonyoung nodded lightly, stepping aside for the actress to enter. with light, but sluggish steps, the taller girl watched y/n walk passed her. it was heavy with the burden of something.

wonyoung closed the door behind her. she watched the love of her life almost morph into someone that wasn't there before, a soft smile appearing on her face as she stared at jiwon.

it was her y/n (but who was the y/n before?).

"gaeul-sunbae," y/n spoke, her voice shaking slightly. she could feel jiwon's worried gaze. "can you check her hand?"

gaeul nodded, sitting beside jiwon.

y/n could feel the guilt wracking inside her body as she stared at jiwon's injured hand. every wince that the younger girl made seemed to cut her deeply, and all y/n could do was blame herself.

it was her fault for not seeing the signs, and her fault for not wanting to. all she wanted was a friend, but never at the cost of another.

"do you want to sit down?" wonyoung's voice sounded like a melody, pulling her out of her trance.

y/n stared at the taller girl. she couldn't help but wonder if the volleyball player had ever held some type of grudge against her, a vendetta to ruin her life. maybe it was something more simple, like a hatred fueled from putting her through everything that was yoo jimin.

y/n took a breath. her wonyoung wouldn't do that.

but then again, her minjeong did.

"it's okay."

y/n didn't know what was what anymore. for all she knew, she could've been letters on a screen, strung together from the most painful parts of human life.

all y/n knew was that jiwon, minju, yuri (and yena), and her parents were real. they had to be. they needed to be.

if they were, then she'd be okay. she knew she'd be okay.

wonyoung grabbed her hand gently, the pad of her thumb tugging her back to reality. back to wonyoung.

y/n was back to wonyoung, her wonyoung. the one with big, doe eyes that cried at the movie 'UP' and hid a box of random pieces of lego in her closet back when they were dating. her wonyoung who was hyunseo's older sister, who carried the jang name with a burden that only showed in the darkest of nights.

she wanted to be wonyoung's y/n again. not minjeong's, not jimin's. wonyoung's.

"please?"

y/n hoped that wonyoung was real. she hoped that this was all real.

quietly, y/n sat down, interlacing her hand with the taller girl's. she watched as wonyoung followed, a small blush on her face as she stared at her with love.

love was consuming y/n.

"what happened anyway?" yujin hummed, not noticing the tension forming in the air.

gaeul could only sigh. her girlfriend was as dense as she was pretty, and at times like these, it was unfortunate that yujin was insanely beautiful.

"did jiwon go ballistic?" yujin's eyes sparkled at the thought of wonyoung's roommate beating someone up. "minju-sunbaenim always gave me crazy vibes, especially when you and wonyoung broke up. i guess the apple doesn't fall far from the - ow!"

gaeul smiled at wonyoung, sitting innocently as if she didn't kick yujin at full force. if rei hadn't been so worried, a snicker would've slipped passed her lips.

right now was jiwon. she'd deal with idiots later.

"don't listen to her." wonyoung smiled, and y/n could feel herself floating. "unnie's just like that sometimes."

unnie.

wonyoung had never called y/n that. not before them, not during them, not after. she called gaeul unnie. same with yujin. she even called jimin unnie at one point.

y/n swallowed.

maybe she did something wrong. maybe wonyoung saw her as lesser than them. maybe this was a sign that her wonyoung had been someone else this entire time.

y/n looked at the taller girl, grinning at her with shiny eyes.

no. wonyoung wasn't jimin or minjeong.

(but what if she was?)

"jiwon-ssi..." gaeul looked at the extent of the bruises. "how hard did you punch them?"

y/n and jiwon looked at each other, both thinking of the deep cut that the younger kim had somehow administered to minjeong.

"not that hard..."

gaeul sighed. her wrist brace wasn't going to be much use against a boxer's fracture. "you need to go to the doctor for this. i'm ninety percent sure you broke it."

rei could feel her stomach drop. she had never felt more anxious in her life, and it wasn't even about her. at times like these, she wished she had her license, just to be there with the kim at the hospital. rei knew that minju wasn't gonna let her near her sister.

rei wished she was invisible, just this once.

jiwon nodded, looking at y/n who seemed deep in her thoughts once more. something was going on inside her head, jiwon just couldn't place it. all she knew was that minjeong was the cause.

a loud banging erupted throughout the room, y/n jumping back slightly. it was harder than last time, the knocking. it sounded as if someone was ramming the door open and if any of the girls listened closer, they would hear the doorknob shaking against the frame.

y/n wondered what would've happened if she didn't see minjeong last night. she understood why, but all at the cost of her friends well being. it might've not been her decision, but she had a say.

she always had a say.

y/n felt stupid.

wonyoung gave y/n's hand a light squeeze before letting go. she headed towards the door, the pounding never stopping. if she didn't open it soon, her ra would definitely get her in trouble, especially the one on duty.

as the volleyball player began to open the door, her eyes focused on the sliver of light that peaked into the hallway.

black. specifically jimin's black jacket.

wonyoung found herself stumbling backwards as the door rammed open. she closed her eyes, waiting for the fall but all she felt was the tightening of her collar, and the graze of someone's kuckles against her collarbone.

her eyes opened, and all she saw were jimin's dark irises.

"you."

jimin was angry. she was livid. everything she did ended up back to wonyoung. if it was volleyball, wonyoung was there. if it was school, wonyoung's 'fans' were in the vicinity. even when she ate, wonyoung's face would be plastered on her water bottle.

there were some upsides though.

"where's aeri?"

yujin tensed, nearly pouncing on jimin if not for gaeul's disapproving look. she wouldn't hold back, not with her friends.

gaeul knew that, and she prayed that somehow, the situation would get diffused before it escalated.

"what the-" wonyoung tried to pry jimin's grip off of her, only for it to tighten even more. "sunbaenim, are you insane?"

y/n had never felt rage consume her. she didn't know how it felt like, in all honesty. she was used to the sadness that jimin had provided her, but somehow, it tripled. it overwhelmed her, like the love that minjeong had confessed to her the day prior, or the pressure that weighed wonyoung down.

she was free from jimin, but not her effect.

"jimin." y/n stood up, her voice hoarse. "stop it."

it felt familiar to wonyoung, in a painful way.

"you're protecting her?" the veins on jimin's head popped, her face an angry red as she stared at y/n. "you're fucking kidding me. yizhuo was right?"

y/n sighed. she was getting tired of this. of everything.

"what are you talking about?"

"you're fucking wonyoung again." jimin would always be second to wonyoung, to everyone. it didn't matter how hard she loved or how much she tried. she was her father's daughter, and she was getting his punishment. "god, you just open your legs up for anyone."

y/n wanted to scream. she wanted to yell at jimin, at minjeong to leave her alone. she wanted them to get out of her mind, and to move some place else where she would never have to think about them ever again.

all y/n could feel was red.

"i could say the same for you, jimin."

wonyoung frowned. her y/n was never angry, at least not outwardly. even if she was, y/n never stooped as low as jimin.

something was wrong. something was broken.

(wonyoung hoped she was okay, whatever it was.)

jimin tightened her grip, her eyebrows furrowing. "what's that supposed to mean?"

"it means what you think it means." it was like lava, pooling out of her mouth like an unstoppable wave. "let. wonyoung. go."

the room fell silent, and wonyoung was sure that jimin loosened her grip for a split second. the ace scanned y/n's eyes, dark and angry before jimin balled up more of wonyoung's shirt.

she could feel jimin's knuckles pressing against her neck, and wonyoung fought back an urge to cough.

"is this about minjeong?" jimin rolled her eyes. she didn't understand why it was such a big deal, especially since she loved y/n, not minjeong. "is that why you're acting all bitchy all of a sudden?"

y/n flinched back, the overwhelming sadness suddenly rendering her speechless. anger helped her forget it, and although it seemed like a plus side, it felt gross.

y/n looked at wonyoung, and guilt love began to consume her once more.

"minjeong came onto me." y/n fought back tears. she was tired of trying to figure out who's side was real, and who was there for her and not her body. "everyone comes to me eventually."

yujin tensed once more. she was sick of jimin. her hot-headedness made the team walk eggshells around her, blaming everyone but herself for all her failures.

for once, she wanted to put jimin in her place.

"now..." jimin glared at wonyoung. "where's aeri, jang?"

wonyoung didn't know. she didn't even know about the whole minjeong-jimin thing until jimin had pounced on her, but if jimin didn't know where aeri was, that meant that she was safe.

wonyoung kept her mouth sealed shut, returning an angry glare.

"where the fuck is she?" wonyoung could feel jimin tightening her grip once more, her balled up fists pressing against her trachea. she had never wanted to punch someone in her life, but jimin was making it difficult.

"answer my question!" jimin's voice boomed, and wonyoung was sure everyone could hear it.

gaeul bit her tongue. she forgot how annoying yeji's jimin was.

quietly, gaeul spoke, not wanting to anger the ace any further. "she doesn't know."

"i wasn't talking to you, you slut." jimin snapped at gaeul. y/n could feel yujin tense from beside her, wonyoung shaking her head at her captain. jimin gripped wonyoung tighter, her knuckles turning white. "where is she, wonyoung? where's aeri?"

"i don't know."

"don't bullshit me." jimin grumbled, her voice low and her eyes angry. "i know you're useless, but you aren't this useless."

jimin was like wonyoung's mother in every sense. not only was she conventionally pretty, she was demanding and negligent to those around her. she used her words as a weapon, and her authority as leverage.

but wonyoung was a jang, and she knew how to get a rise out of someone.

"i said i don't know, jimin."

jimin didn't call her father dad anymore. not only had he failed as a husband, he had failed as a person. jimin didn't need to call someone that an honorific when they didn't deserve it.

but jimin wasn't her dad. she couldn't be.

"i'm your sunbae."

she was, in everyone's eyes but her own.

"then act like it."

jimin liked the pain of punching someone.

she liked the way her hand stung, akin to a spike. she liked her knuckles bright red, a physical sight that she was doing something right. jimin didn't like to think about the pain it inflicted on others, unless they deserved it.

jang wonyoung did, however. she deserved all the pain.

jimin winded her hand back, and wonyoung was ready to take the punch head on. she needed proof that jimin had hurt someone once more, a teammate. if getting rid of jimin for the rest of her school year meant a bruised cheek, then wonyoung would absolutely tank it.

wonyoung closed her eyes and a thud could be heard reverberating throughout the room.

she felt nothing.

the volleyball player opened her eyes, only to feel herself getting pulled back as she watched gaeul and rei scramble to stop yujin. she shook them off, ignoring jimin trying to push her head away.

ahn yujin, in all her glory, landed punch after punch on the ace. she was tired of all the pent up anger that she felt towards yeji jimin. she was tired of the older girl in every sense.

yujin wasn't gonna let another version of yeji hurt her friends.

the stinging of her hands got worse and worse as her anger rose. puffs of air released out of her mouth as each strike seemed stronger than the last. eventually, jimin was gonna let her guard down, and then yujin could strike the way she wanted to.

wonyoung needed to stop this, but she couldn't get physical. her father would kill her, and her mother would send her off to america if she got suspended.

she rushed back in, her eyes wide as she tried to pull yujin off. yujin was gonna get suspended, she knew it. the amount of damage she already left was enough to down a grown man.

anger was terrifying.

she saw specks of blood fly everywhere, the captain muttering curses under her breath before getting flipped over.

jimin's blooded face glistened against the light of wonyoung's room, swelling and full of cuts. her covered arms were filled with bruises, but she didn't care. right now, she wanted yujin to pay.

wrapping one hand around yujin's neck to steady her, jimin raised her fist, slamming it down onto the younger girl's face. she could feel something splatter against her skin, and it only fueled the ace further.

despite gaeul and rei's best efforts, jimin was stronger than yujin, and there was no way they could get her off, especially without wonyoung's help.

it didn't matter anymore. if wonyoung didn't do something, yujin might die.

frantically, wonyoung wrapped her arm around jimin's neck, choking her out as she pulled the older girl off yujin. she could feel jimin clawing against her arm, and wonyoung gritted her teeth, feeling blood seep out.

yujin sat up, the left side of her face tattered into shreds. gaeul rushed to her side, the captain watching as jimin struggled to get wonyoung off.

"bitch."

wonyoung looked at y/n, her eyes wide as the older girl kept jiwon behind her. she shook her head, signaling wonyoung to let go. the taller girl nodded, her arm dropping to her side as jimin fell forward, eyes red as she coughed.

she was definitely gonna get sent to america.

as the room fell quiet, jimin's coughing and yujin's heaving seemed to get louder. wonyoung could see the specks of blood littering the floor, and could feel the stinging of her arm.

a cough took their attention away from the bloodied volleyball players.

shit. the ra woke up.

"yuqi-sunbaenim."

"the cops are on their way." she shut her eyes tightly, looking at jimin. at least the girl got a good beating. too bad the others had to face a similar punishment. "don't try to talk your way out of this."

wonyoung nodded, her head hanging low.

"can we go...?" y/n asked, jiwon wincing behind her as her hand became more painful by the minute. "her hand-"

"if you two didn't get involved, then you can go."

y/n nodded, bowing slightly as jimin finally stopped coughing, a bruise on her neck.

"wonyoung?"

y/n looked at the girl in front of her, red running down her arm.

worry encapsulated her entire being, eyebrows furrowing at the sight. wonyoung was hurt, just like jiwon. yujin was hurt, just like jiwon. somehow, y/n hurt two people in one sitting, two people who didn't deserve it.

she could've done something. she should've done something.

"we're okay."

wonyoung could always see right through her.

it terrified her.

carefully, y/n lifted the volleyball player's arm. she could see the marks deep, and an angry red.

she just wanted the pain to go away, hers and wonyoung.

"i'm okay." wonyoung whispered. y/n always got worried about things she didn't need to worry about. "i'll live."

"okay." her wonyoung was real. she was sincere, and familiar. her wonyoung wouldn't hurt her.

y/n loved jang wonyoung, bleeding or not.

"text me how it goes, okay?"

wonyoung's eyes hid the stinging with a smile, quietly admiring the girl in front of her as y/n took jiwon's hand. "i will."

y/n nodded. she trusted wonyoung, just like she trusted jimin and minjeong. it couldn't backfire, not again. not with her wonyoung.

wonyoung moved aside, ignoring jimin glaring at her (she wanted to mock the other girl, powerless against the ra of the building, but that would just cause more problems).

y/n came to a halt, turning to face wonyoung.

"oh, and," a kiss on the cheek. "for... for your arm."

wonyoung didn't care. it was worth it.

"oh!" she bit her tongue, yujin cackling in the corner as gaeul scolded her not to move too much. rei gave her a thumbs up, before giving jiwon a worried gaze. "yeah, of course."

y/n nodded awkwardly, tugging jiwon's free hand.

"jiwon," y/n ignored her stare. "let's go."

the two exited the room, jiwon wincing with every swing of her arm. y/n would have to call minju once they got to the hospital.

god, minju was gonna kill everyone in that room and then her.

"did you just kiss her?"

y/n blushed as the elevator opened.

"on her cheek, ji." y/n shook her head. "you need to stop hanging out with yuri-unnie."

as jiwon entered the elevator, y/n followed her inside. the younger girl faced away from her, cradling her hand and trying to stabilize it.

for a moment, y/n relaxed. no one was looking at her. no one had to see the turmoil she had gone through. she sighed quietly, her face dropping, eyes a void of anger and frustration, of pain and hurt.

everything was consuming her.

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[damiansgoodgirll]

can you please do an story about Damian and Reader where her "friends" forgot her BDay and Damian is the only one who recognize something was wrong and she's telling him that's her BDay and he makes it an unforgettable weekend and later confess to her?!

damian priest x reader

bday party

realising that it was your birthday and none of your friends wished you an happy birthday or asked you if you were doing something for that day actually hurt you.

you’ve been there for every one of your friends, for their birthdays, their weddings, whatever party they wanted to do. you’ve always been there but no one was there for you on your own special day.

being in an other city, away from your family, hurt you more. they were the only one to remember your birthday but the fact that they weren’t with you left you with a sense of sadness washing over you.

you hoped that maybe your gym friends remembered since you talked about it for the past week but once you hit the gym everyone greeted you normally, like nothing changed.

the only person to notice your humor was damian, you’ve met him when you started going at the same gym but everytime you talked it was mostly small talks. some about your personal lives and some about your jobs, a part of that, you weren’t that much friends. you were texting over instagram sometimes but not about anything in particular.

you’ve always found him attractive and truth be told you loved watching him in the gym but you knew you weren’t his type. you weren’t the type of girl a gym person like him would date.

but you couldn’t be more wrong.

damian had a crush on you. he developed feelings since the moment he saw you. he couldn’t get enough and his stalking abilities made it easier for him to find your instagram. he wanted to ask you out so bad but he didn’t know what kind of life he could give you. he was away from home all the time and he knew he couldn’t bring you with him.

he thought about those things all the time but that never stopped his feeling for you.

he wasn’t sure what was going on but there was something in your looks that was telling him that something was off.

“hey y/n! you okay?” he asked softly approaching you.

“hi damian” you greeted him with your soft voice “yes everything okay” you smiled.

“you sure? you know you can tell me if there’s something bothering you…” he smiled at you. a genuine smile you haven’t seen in months.

“it’s just…it doesn’t matter…”

“it does matter if it’s the reason i haven’t seen you smiling or laughing all morning” he teased.

“well, it’s my birthday and…well, none of my friends remembered it but it doesn’t really matter…” you awkwardly said, trying to not sound childish because in your mind it sounded stupid being mad for something like that.

“happy birthday hermosa” he said hugging you.

you never felt that hot in your life.

“t-thank you…i really appreciate it” you smiled.

“do you have any plans or things you wanna do today?”

“i actually have to finish some work but i was thinking of maybe watching a movie and ordering some pizza tonight since i’ll be alone anyway…” you whispered the last part and damian caught that too.

“text me your address after lunch, i’ll pick you up and take you somewhere nice” he said leaving before you could actually reply.

and so you did.

you had no idea where he was taking you so you tried to be elegant but not too extra at the same time.

he took you to a cinema and you both comfortably watched the new hunger games movie and ended up eating some pizza at the cute place near your home.

“you really shouldn’t have done it…maybe you had other plans today” you felt a little apologetic.

“no other plans, trust me…”

he loved spending the day with you. he got to know you better. definitely better than the usual ten minutes talk at the gym. he got to know what you liked, how you loved your pizza, what drinks you drink, what music you like to listen, what movies and shows you like to watch and more. he was comfortable with you and he wished every day was like this.

“still…you didn’t have to do it for me…” you smiled.

“i loved doing it for you” he said seriously, his eyes never leaving yours and you felt butterflies all over your body.

“then…thank you so much for the night” you whispered.

“you’re very welcome…even if you haven’t eaten the cake yet…” he said before taking a candle from his jacket and lighting it up for you “make a wish hermosa” he said with his deep voice.

“i think it already came true…” you teased back. before you could eat your piece of cake, he gently grabbed your hand and kissed the palm of it.

“it could be like this every night if you want to, you know…” he whispered, keeping your hand close to his lips “i really like you y/n and if you give one chance i could show you how i feel about you…”

“okay…” you whispered.

“okay” he smiled and kissed your hand again, making you forget about the cake.

honestly? fuck the cake if he could give you dessert every night.

[jerzwriter]

Kaycee's birthday is July 26th, and I didn't want it to pass by without showing her some love! Of course, she doesn't need me for that! 😉

A Simple Wish

Book: Open Heart (Post Series) Pairing: Ethan x Kaycee (F!MC) Rating: Teen Words: 1,180 Summary: Ethan has the perfect evening planned for Kaycee's birthday; but when everything seems to go wrong, she shows him how everything is just right. (This is all the mushy feels. lol)

A/N: Happy Birthday Kaycee! 🥳🎂🥳 @julychallenge Pink: Love Black: Protection

The sun was already setting, casting a pink glow over the beach house as Ethan fumbled with matches, attempting to light the candles on the patio table. He had meticulously planned this evening for weeks—wanting Kaycee’s birthday to be absolutely perfect. But today, it seemed nothing was going as planned.

He heard the sliding door open, and Kaycee emerged from inside. She was by his side in a second, lovingly wrapping her arms around his waist.  

“Need some help?” she asked, her voice full of life.

“No, I’ve got it,” he grumbled, sighing with relief when the stubborn wick finally caught a flame.

Despite Kaycee’s reminders to keep things simple, Ethan had spent all day agonizing over the details for tonight’s dinner, and it had left him quite flustered. He wasn’t sure how he was going to shake it to give her the birthday she deserved, but as happened so often, Kaycee provided a solution to a problem she hadn’t even known existed. It only took one look at her, her smile more brilliant than the setting sun, and Ethan felt his tension begin to melt away.

She turned on the radio – a little surprised when he didn’t gripe about the music she selected– but he wasn’t about to argue with her today. Not only because it was her birthday but because she left him mesmerized; his breath was all but taken away

The way she spun around the wooden deck, singing the lyrics to her favorite songs like a child without a care in the world. Her pretty summer dress fluttered in the breeze as the cascading waves of sunkissed hair swirled all around her. Ethan could hardly remember his name as he watched her—she was everything beautiful and right in his world.

Kaycee blushed when she turned and caught him staring like a lovesick schoolboy. Biting her lip, she tried to think of something to say. “Dinner smells amazing,” was all she could come up with.

“Yes,” Ethan stammered. “I called your mom for the recipe for her...Oh! Shit!” he hollered as he ran inside without another word.

Kaycee followed him into the kitchen – a room she normally did her best to avoid.

"What is it?” she asked. Then looked on as she watched his shoulders slouch, a frown on his handsome face as he pulled the lasagna from the smoky oven just before the alarms began to blare. Kaycee opened the windows without being asked. She may not know how to cook, but she sure knew how to prevent the fire department from showing up.

“Damn it,” Ethan cursed as he tossed the dish he had toiled over all afternoon into the trash.

“It’s OK, baby,” Kaycee reassured, placing her hand protectively on his arm. “Honestly, it looked better than anything I’ve ever made for you.”

Ethan took a deep breath. He wasn’t going to allow this to ruin her day. “Well, we’ll have to make other dinner plans,” he frowned.

“That’s easy!” She beamed, opening the refrigerator door and pulling out a box of leftover pizza.

“Leftover pizza?” He groaned. “Really?”

“Leftover pizza from Palio’s!” She corrected. “You know how much I love it, and it always tastes better the next day.”

“You’re right about that,” he grinned. “And it will go well with the Pinot Noir I have chilling.”

Kaycee gulped as her eyes landed on the bottle of wine, still sitting on the kitchen counter in the direct path of the sun. Ethan followed her line of sight and grimaced. “Damn it!”

“No worries... I like White Zinfindel better, anyway,” she chirped.

“Kaycee,” Ethan sighed, disappointment etched on his face. “I really wanted to make tonight special....”

“Shhh!” she said, placing a finger over his lips, then further silencing him with a kiss. “It will be. Why don’t you set up a blanket on the beach? I’ll heat the pizza, and we can have a picnic?”  

“Fine,” he surrendered. She was right; after all, the important part of the day was the time they’d spend together, and he wasn’t going to mess that up. He laid a fluffy blanket out over the sand, and, fortunately, the bouquet of pink roses he bought hadn’t suffered the fate of everything else he touched today.

When Kaycee returned outside, she plopped down beside him, placing her head on his lap. "See," she beamed. "This is beautiful!"

“But how are you going to eat in that position?” He teased.

“Oh, that's easy! You’re going to feed me.”

Ethan chuckled as he folded a slice of pizza and fed it to his love.

“If I would have known you wanted to do this, I would have bought some grapes,” he grinned.

“Mmmm. Now you know what you’ll be doing tomorrow,” she winked.

They talked and took turns feeding each other, and after polishing off the bottle of wine, they snuggled together until the sun had set on the horizon. Ethan was quiet, listening to the sound of waves gently crashing on the shore. But as the silence lingered, his mind was racing with thoughts of all he'd gotten wrong today. Kaycee sensed a change in his mood and quickly sat up to face him.

“Ethan, can I tell you something?” she asked, her eyes searching his.

“Of course,” he replied, hoping she wasn’t too disappointed.

She took his hand and squeed it gently. “This has been the best birthday of my life.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “This birthday’s been your best ever? How shitty have your birthday’s been?”

She shook her head with a laugh. “My birthdays have been pretty amazing, actually. I have many wonderful memories. But this one tops them all because it's just you and me in our favorite place. Don't you know, silly man? That's all I'll ever want."

A slow smile spread across Ethan’s face, as he wondered what he had done to deserve her. “You’re sure about that?” he asked.

“One hundred percent!”

“Then you don’t mind if I eat all of the tiramisu cake I brought from Rosella’s by myself?”

Kaycee sat back, her eyes narrowed. “Listen, don’t get ahead of yourself,” she smiled. “That’s my birthday cake.”

“Yeah,” he smirked, jumping to his feet. “Not if I get to it first.”

Ethan bolted to the door like an impish child as Kaycee stumbled in the sand, laughing hysterically; she managed to be right behind him as he opened the screen door.

“Don’t you dare!” She hollered as he scooped her up in his arms. “Now you’re lucky if I even share it with you at all.”

Without a word, Ethan placed her down gently on their soft, chenille couch, kissing her forehead lovingly before leaving the room, returning moments later with the tiramisu cake in hand, alight with bright sparklers.

“For me?” She teased.

“Only you,” he smiled. “You have to make a wish.”

But as she watched the sparklers slowly fade away, she was at a loss. What could she wish for when she already had so much more than she had ever hoped for?

“Did you make a wish?” Ethan asked, and Kaycee gently smiled.

“Mmm-hmm,” she nodded. “But I can’t tell you what it is; I won't risk it not coming true.”

“That’s understandable,” he grinned, handing her a knife to cut the first slice of cake.

It was a simple wish: for them to spend countless more days together, just like today. And while she never told Ethan what it was, he already knew and he was determined to make her wish come true.

@choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Tagging others separately.